CHAPTER ONE
Promotion

It was a sunny and pleasant day in downtown Chicago; the sun, high in the sky, was warming the busy streets of the city as Summer was just getting underway. Julia sat outside at a busy corner bistro, alone at a table, just off Michigan Avenue, across the street from the Art Institute. Lost in her own thoughts, she idly strummed her long red nails, as the multitude, people and vehicles swirled around her. She took a quick sip of ice tea and was pleased to see her new lipstick was staying in place instead of passing to the straw. It was a small thing, but it was nice that something was working as promised, especially when other, important, things in her life weren't.

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to relax. Waiting for a friend to show up for lunch always unnerved her. She imagined what it might be like to be considered important enough to never have to wait for people. Would she ever be important like that? While waiting, she did get to play, "who's the boss". It was her friend Samantha's people watching game. The key was to watch groups of people walking together to determine who had more formal power in the group. It was almost always the people in front who had the power. Samantha always tallied male versus female lead groups. According to her, women were slowly pulling forward and she predicted that women would eventually outnumber men as "the boss", in her little game. Julia had to admit, it was satisfying to see one or more women walking along with some hapless looking guy humbly shuffling behind them, anxiously hanging on every word.

As she continued scanning for "who's the boss" groups, Julia spotted Samantha getting out of a taxi, across the street, in front of the Art Institute. She was finally here, almost twenty minutes after the last text she'd sent saying she'd be late for lunch.

Julia stood up, smoothed down her skirt and gave a couple of quick tugs on her blouse to make sure it was nice and straight before waving excitedly to her friend. Samantha quickly spotted her and returned a tiny, cute, little wave. She paid the cab driver, and started to walk towards the bistro, plucking her corporate ID badge off her blouse and tossing it in her cute little clutch without missing a step.

Samantha worked in human resources and had been tied up in meetings all morning. Julia was anxious to hear whatever inside news she had on the rumored reorganization from Corporate. Everybody was nervous. Samantha had told her not to worry last time they talked and hinted at something good coming her way. It was all so unnerving.

Both women were in their late twenties, pretty, and dressed in chic, somewhat suggestive, clearly feminine attire. Julia's husband, Eric, called the look "business-professional-sexy" and occasionally quipped that Julia's business attire was "erection-enabling" when he thought one of her outfits was a little over the top.

Samantha wore a short sleeved pink blouse, and an A-line black skirt cut a few inches above the knees with black heels. Her skirt swished appreciably as she moved in three-inch stilettos while making her way to the crosswalk. As she crossed Michigan Avenue, a couple of men locked their eyes on the jiggling under Samantha's blouse. She had ample boobs which always seemed to be in motion, especially as she swayed in heels. Samantha seemed to enjoy flirting with men but it was a pure power trip for her, another game, since, ironically, Samantha hated men.

Samantha was smiling as she entered the bistro, quickly picking her way past the tables to where Julia was. She was beaming with excitement and even stamped her heels and let loose a tiny squeak before sitting down at the table with a wide grin.

"Good news then?," Julia asked nervously as they sat down, trying to stay calm despite her friend's obvious exuberance.

Samantha nodded barely able to contain herself. "You got the promotion," she finally said. "Regional sales manager. Even better, you beat out three men for the job," she added. "This is a real shake up, a lot of restructuring. They're letting go of some of the older men that have been there forever, realigning the teams, and putting in younger talent. And the best thing is, most of the senior promotions, like yours, are going to womyn!" Julia wasn't sure if Samantha was more excited about her promotion or that women had taken so many of the positions. "They're going to make you the offer before the end of the day it looks like. Oh, and you're going to be getting your own office! And..." Samantha stopped and looked at Julia who was sitting there blank faced, as if she was in the third hour of a meeting discussing corporate financials, supply chains, and lost revenues. "Well, aren't you excited?"

"Yes?" Julia said hesitantly.

"What's wrong honey?" Samantha's tone had switched from excitement to concern. She'd thought her friend would be thrilled at the news but instead she seemed distant and preoccupied.

Julia toyed with the bracelet on her left wrist, a thin gold chain, remembering better times. It wasn't especially expensive but Eric had given it to her a couple of years ago when he was still working. Under her shoulder length auburn hair both ears were decorated with earrings he'd bought her too, delicate three inch gold hoops with two small gold balls behind each of them. He'd even pierced her ears for her, adding the two extra holes to each ear so she could wear more earrings. It had been a better time. Eric had money and enjoyed spending it on her, spoiling her, having fun with her. But all of that was before he lost his job to what he called "gender politics".

"It's Eric is all," Julia said.

Samantha frowned.

"He's still out of work," Julia said, pursing her lips in frustration. "It's been over a year and a half now. He's having a really hard time getting a job," she added.

"What's that got to do with you?" Samantha asked peering at Julia intently. "If anything, he should be thrilled that more money will be coming in, excited that you're career is taking off," Samantha said with a sour tone. "He should be happy for you and happy that you're supporting the family. And, if you think about it, I'm sure he wouldn't have any problem at all if you were the one out of work and he was getting a promotion."

"Probably not," Julia admitted reluctantly, conflicted by the whole situation. Even though her argument was sound, Julia knew that Samantha was also a very vocal feminist that had a lot of contempt for men in general and had never had anything good to say about Eric.

"Honey, if he can't embrace his partner's success then he's just stuck in the past, the ancient past. We've talked about some of this before. Most men would be thrilled to bring back the days of male privilege, the glory days of the patriarchy where womyn were expected to be little more then their chattel. If he's struggling with those archaic notions you really need to lay down the law. After all, you're the one supporting the family, not him. You're the one with the power now." Then she added, with a smile, "as it should be."

Julia's eye began to moisten as she fought back tears. "It's just so complicated Sam." She looked away from Samantha to all the people on the sidewalks outside the bistro moving past. The traffic light changed on Michigan Avenue and a flood of traffic sped by in a blur. Life seemed to be moving so fast around her and Julia felt somehow disconnected from all of it, nothing seemed to be going according to plan.

Samantha reached out and gently took Julia's hand in hers. They intertwined fingers. Samantha's nails were short and colored a deep burgundy but they contrasted beautifully next to Julia's brighter, longer nails - a simple expression of feminine beauty performed through a caring touch.

"We were talking about maybe having a baby," Julia spat out, her eyes moistening as she fought back tears. "But we put those plans on hold ever since Eric lost his job. It's been really hard."

Samantha listened on sympathetically, nodding her head, encouraging Julia to go on.

"We wanted both of us working so I could have options, maybe stay at home with the baby for awhile," she said. "Maybe start my own business from home," she added with a shrug. "The important thing was to make sure I could stay at home with the baby early on, as much as I felt I needed. They say the early years are so critical. But I don't know how that's going to happen right now," Julia said as she dabbed her finger tips to the corner of her eyes, keeping tears at bay. "My career keeps moving forward but he's totally stuck and every time I move ahead he just gets more resentful."

Samantha squeezed Julia's hand slightly, trying to be reassuring, not certain what to say to her beautiful friend, a moment of quiet stillness in the bustle of the city. "He can still find a job. Eventually, he will."

"I just don't know anymore. It doesn't feel like that at all," Julia said, sounding defeated. "The way things are going, I'm going to end up being the primary breadwinner forever. He's going to resent it and maybe he'll never get back to work. Or, maybe he'll just take some low paying job and tell me how much he loves it so he never has to compete with me again. Force me to keep working and totally break the agreement we had about me staying home with our baby. My promotion would be like golden-handcuffs if that happened."

"Well, maybe you can still make it work. In fact, it might even be better with him unemployed" Samantha suggested. "You'd have your baby, then, after maternity leave, he'd have to do the care taking while you were at the office. There's nothing wrong with that. More men are doing it all the time. Why should the womon have to give up her career anyway? In fact, since he's already out of work it seems the obvious choice if you ask me. Let him stay at home with the baby."

"Maybe, but I'm not so sure he'd be happy playing Mr. Mom all day long either," Julia said wryly. "Besides, I want to breastfeed my baby as much as I can and for as long as I can. There's just so many benefits to breastfeeding over a bottle, it really is important."

"Okay, maybe he wouldn't like playing Mr. Mom but he could. And as far as the breastmilk goes, he could care for that too. You can pump your own milk and store it in a bottle for Eric to use when you're at work. Womyn do that all the time."

"They do," Julia said drawing the words out slowly. "I never wanted to do that though. It cheats the baby" Julia frowned for a moment. Her face softened next and she looked into the distance, like she was trying to recall something cherished. "My mom told me something once, a long time ago. It was so touching I never forgot. It's really beautiful. She told me there were times, when she was breastfeeding me, that she couldn't tell where she ended and where I began." Julia smiled, lingering on the memory. "That image is so powerful. Mother and daughter together as one. That's how powerful that bond can be for the mother while she's breastfeeding. The baby has to feel that bond too," Julia said, dabbing at the tears in her eyes. "You can't get love like that through a plastic bottle, even if it does have mother's milk inside."

Samantha dabbed at her own tears. "That really is a beautiful image." She slapped Julia's hand playfully. "Look at you, having me crying over a baby that hasn't even been conceived yet." Both women laughed.

The waitress came over to the table and took their lunch order, the same salads they normally had when they lunched there. As their waitress walked away, Julia noticed the hostess sit a couple, a young man and woman, a few tables away. They looked to be so happy, talking, smiling, staring into each other's eyes. They looked like they were in love. She couldn't remember the last time Eric and her had been so happy together. He hadn't even smiled, as far as she knew, since he'd lost his job. It all seemed so sad. He needed a new focus, a new purpose.

"You okay?" Samantha asked.

"Yeah, sorry. Just thinking about how unhappy Eric has been lately," Julia said ruefully. "Anyway, I hope you can see my dilemma. If I take the promotion, Eric could get totally discouraged. Depressed. Maybe hopeless. You have to remember, from his point of view, he lost his job to a woman when his company restructured. The same thing is basically happening with my promotion, except I'm the one getting the job. But, he's still unemployed. He's going to feel terrible. He might even see me as the enemy since I'm a woman."

"Sounds like a typical man to me," Samantha said. "Make womyn the enemy. Try their best to keep us from succeeding. Sabotage our careers," Samantha added with disdain.

Julia rolled her eyes at Samantha. "I think it's a little more complicated then that Sam. I mean, you do have a point but, look at it from his point of view, he's having a really hard time getting a foot in the door while women are succeeding all around him."

Samantha shrugged her shoulders and smiled, clearly not unhappy that womyn were succeeding while men were struggling.

"I'm not unhappy that women are doing well," Julia said. "It's just that some men are having a hard time adapting. Eric is one of them. If I take the promotion, I think there's a good chance he'll just give up looking for work. It's going to make having a baby with him almost impossible unless I give up on the idea of breastfeeding my baby like I wanted to." Julia brought her hands to the side of her head and began rubbing her temples with her fingers trying to ward off an approaching headache. "I'm not sure I should even take the promotion."

Samantha scowled at the suggestion, knitting her eyebrows together. "Julia, don't even say that. You earned that promotion. You deserve it. You outsold most the department, men and womyn. Like I said earlier, Eric should be embracing your success not holding you back. And, I really think he could take care of most of your baby's needs. He may not like it, you might not even think its the best solution, but with him out of work he can care for the baby. All you need is a little role reversal away from the traditional patriarchal family model and to a more modern flexible one," Samantha said confidently and then oddly her mouth dropped open and stayed open, seemingly astonished at her own words.

"Samantha?" Julia asked, bewildered at her friend's expression.

"Role reversal," Samantha said, more to herself than to Julia, the words having some deeper meaning as her expression shifted to satisfaction, almost excitement. "I really think you need to take the promotion Julia. I'm not positive yet, but I think I have a solution that'll fix everything, and I mean everything."

<<<<>>>>

CHAPTER TWO
Doldrums

It had happened much as Samantha had suggested it would. Shortly after lunch, Julia had been called into a meeting with the vice president of Human Resources. The woman had flown in from New York to meet with people in the Chicago office as part of the reorganization effort. Julia had been escorted into the executive conference room by the woman's administrative assistant, a tall, handsome, well groomed, young man with a nice smile, who'd brought her a coffee just before the meeting started. At the top of the hour, three women strolled in, the vice president with two women from the Chicago Human Resources department, one of them was Samantha. After introductions and initial pleasantries, the woman made Julia the job offer -- regional sales manager of the Northwest Chicago market.

It was a big promotion but Julia's sales figures and the relationships she'd built with clients had spoken for themselves. The company wanted her to be part of the new organizational structure they were building, a bridge to the future they called it. They wanted a progressive, energetic team and they saw her as a part of that vision. One woman to another, she'd also shared with Julia how pleased she was to be offering the position to a woman and that the restructuring had provided a fundamental shift in leadership with women now holding a majority of management positions in the company for the first time. Woman held the majority of executive leadership positions as well which had started when the board had appointed the first female CEO in company history. It was an exciting time.

For Julia, a promotion, a nice salary increase, and an office were all hers for the asking. They were even trying to get company cars for all the regional sales managers.

Julia had smiled throughout the meeting and made sure she presented an enthusiastic, positive, and warm image while the pitch for the promotion was being made to her. It was all part of the corporate game to put up a facade, to let people see and hear what they wanted to see and hear, regardless the truth. Sales had taught her that. The women saw a very happy, grateful and eager Julia, a woman looking forward to her promotion; but, the entire time, she was worrying about how Eric was going to take the news of her increasing success while he was at home unemployed and struggling. A promotion now might affect their entire future together. She left the meeting grinning ear-to-ear asking when she needed to make her decision. She was told to take the rest of the day off to consider the offer and virtually guaranteed a company car to sweeten the deal. Everything seemed to be falling in Julia's lap. A fantastic promotion was just waiting for her to say 'yes'.

If only it was that easy.

On the drive home, Julia pondered over the entire situation with Eric and tried to figure out some angle to make it all work without having to make some serious compromise. The only thing that seemed to make sense was to put off having the baby, maybe for years, while Eric rebuilt his career so Julia would be able to stay home for awhile, taking that extended leave of absence, once their baby came. That seemed to be the only way her baby could get all the love and nurturing she wanted for her child. It wasn't a great solution. Also, if Eric got further depressed over her promotion, it could really mess things up for them. She might never be able to take that extra time off for their baby.

Of course, if she gave up on the idea of breastfeeding things got much easier. She could take the promotion right away and forget about an extended leave of absence for nursing. She could get pregnant soon and Eric could take care of the baby while she was at work. He might not like the role of Mr. Mom but he could learn to change diapers and care for their baby like anybody else could. But Julia just couldn't tolerate the notion of having her baby bottle-fed.

Samantha, on the other hand, had insisted that there was an answer to the whole dilemma. She'd refused to give Julia any more details at lunch, just kept smiling with the most gleeful expression, saying she needed to confirm something first, before she could fill in Julia. It didn't make any sense, nothing seemed to be adding up.

By the time Julia got home she wasn't any closer to an answer and didn't think Samantha could possibly have one either despite her claims. Julia pulled into the parking strip behind their building almost dreading giving the news to Eric and still wasn't sure if she should take the promotion or not.

Their apartment complex ran from street to alley, two buildings facing inward with a grass filled courtyard running between them. A sidewalk ran between the buildings to a large, square, stone planter, in the middle of the courtyard, filled with colorful annuals, and then to each of the buildings.

The walk from the parking strip to their building wasn't a long one but Julia dragged it out, walking slowly, almost idly forward getting up her nerve to give the news to Eric that he was falling ever further behind her, assuming she took the promotion. She wanted to tell him at home, hopefully while he was examining some good job prospect online, and reassure him that, any day now, he'd be at a great job again. She could only hope that was true.

As she was reaching the planter, still lazily moving forward, she suddenly stopped when she spotted a man who looked to be unconscious on a first floor patio at the building on the other side of the courtyard. The man was sprawled out akimbo on a cheap outdoor recliner with faded green straps attached to a bent aluminum frame. The recliner was sagging under the man's weight, tilting outwards. His head lolled out to the side, pressing into the iron wrought bars of the railing which appeared to be the only thing keeping him from rolling off the recliner entirely and into a dozen or more beer bottles sitting at the edge of the patio.

Julia took several tentative steps closer to confirm the man was still breathing. The smell of alcohol and vomit stained the air. Drool was running down one of the bars of the railing from his mouth. The man groaned, still very much alive. He was clearly in some drunken stupor. The sight and smell caused Julia to wriggle her nose as a grimace gripped her face in disgust. What made it worst was she was fairly certain she knew the man and his wife, only casually, but she knew them. Sometimes, she ran across the wife, mostly in the mornings as they both left for work, and Julia recalled the woman had said her husband, John was his name, was 'hitting the pavement' looking for a job. Julia just shook her head and walked away, wanting to be rid of the unemployed drunk who was hitting the booze far more than he was hitting the pavement from the looks of things.

The nagging thought she couldn't walk away from was the feeling that Eric could be slowly moving in the same direction, looking to drown his own sorrows. He'd never drunk alcohol when they were dating, not at all, and very rarely through most of their marriage. After an embarrassing number of overly-macho, half-drunk, losers that she'd dated, it was one of Eric's more endearing traits. But over the last few months, beer had started to make a regular appearance on the weekends and it was slowly creeping into the evenings too. It just served to underscore where Eric was and how vulnerable he might be without a job to take pride in, without something to give him focus and purpose everyday. It made telling him about her success all the harder. She didn't want to hurt him but he had to be told. It was something they needed to discuss as a couple.

Julia climbed the stairs to their third floor apartment with a mixture of pride, regret, and uncertainty. She took a deep breath for courage and keyed open the door, putting a smile on as she marched in, the spikes of her heels clacking loudly on the tile in the entryway as she entered. She wanted to be positive for him, encouraging. Maybe today was the day he'd be on his computer with a job offer.

"Eric?" she called out.

No answer. The apartment was quiet.

Julia quickly peeked through the rooms looking for her husband but he wasn't home. A quizzical look twitched crossed her face. A check of her phone confirmed no recent texts or calls either. She hadn't thought to look for his car when she'd arrived. She just expected him to be there, doing whatever he did all day, job hunting.

Alone, she kicked off her heels and absently traipsed to the middle of the apartment as she tried to let the relative calm of the vacant rooms embrace and relax her.

Their apartment was modest, a couple of bedrooms, and an open space shared by the kitchen to one side with their living room and a makeshift dinning room on the other side. The furnishings were sparse and modern in design; they coordinated well with the artwork decorating the walls, lithographs of bold, soaring cityscapes. The one sculpture they owned resembled three grey metal towers, with rough, stucco like, textured exteriors, which rose vertically over a circular, metallic pedestal. The walls were painted an off-white and the carpet was a dusty-grey. The overall impression of the space conveyed frugal efficiency and seemed to celebrate the modern world.

Julia let out a heavy sigh as a slight throb began pulsing in her temples signaling the possible start of a headache. She hadn't realized how much stress she'd actually been carrying, worrying about telling Eric about her promotion, worrying what it might do to him and their marriage. It was too much. Maybe Samantha was right. Maybe Eric was stuck in the past. Her promotion should be nothing but good news to both of them but instead it filled her with conflict and dread. Of course, right or wrong, Samantha would blame Julia's worry on Eric's male ego and the patriarchy she so often railed against. Maybe she had a point, maybe.

With her headache growing, Julia grabbed a couple aspirins out of her purse and went to the kitchen for a glass of water to swig them down with. It was then she realized the sink was still filled with dirty dishes. She groaned at the sight of them. Eric, given that he was home all day, had agreed to do the dishes months ago. He was spotty, at best, caring for them. Julia often had to follow-up after him to make sure they were done. She'd reminded him that very morning, at breakfast, to wash them and he'd promised to have them in the dishwasher before she got home. Yet, they were still here, still piled up, still stinking up the sink and practically blocking access to the faucet. He seemed oblivious to dirt and seemed content to leave dirty dishes in the sink until they piled so high Julia couldn't stand it any longer and would do them herself. It was galling, they were still here and he was clearly off someplace.

Julia knocked some plates out of the way to use the faucet, filled a glass, tossed back the aspirins, and chased them down with an angry gulp of water. What the heck was he up to that he couldn't care for the dishes?

She fetched her phone, the candy-red case matching nicely with her long nails, and launched a friends finding app. They had each other setup so they could find the other with their smartphones -- GPS was a wonderful thing. Normally, the friends finding app brought her reassurance that Eric was okay. It felt a little more clandestine now. It wasn't like checking up on your mate when they're late getting home, just wanting to make sure they're okay. No, this felt more like spying, more like trying to catch Eric doing something wrong. She waited while the phones and computers and satellites did whatever they did and in a few moments she had a little dot on a map representing Eric. Julia studied the phone for a bit then glowered at it, her lips tightening like her face was seized by a spasm. It looked like Eric was at a liquor store. A liquor store! It was so damn frustrating.

Instead of looking for work he was out buying liquor? He wouldn't normally have expected her home for, at least, a few hours yet. Was this how he spent his day all the time? Maybe Eric wasn't the husband she thought he was. Maybe he was up to no good while she was out supporting him. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt but began to wonder if she was just being a fool. Had Samantha been right about Eric all along?

Julia began looking around the apartment more earnestly, looking for evidence of what Eric was doing during the day. It didn't take long to find a few beer bottles on their balcony that, she was fairly certain, weren't there that morning. They sat there, against the wall of the patio, half hidden behind their deck chair. She stood still as she stared at them, not wanting to approach them, as if they were a silent enemy waiting to pounce on her if she moved. Looking across the courtyard to the building opposite theirs, she could see John below. He was still laying there, marinating in his drunken stupor, waiting for his wife to come home from work. How far away was Eric from being just like John? Somebody that had lost all self-respect and didn't give a damn about his wife or family anymore?

She moved away from the patio and went into Eric's computer room to see if he had any more beer laying about. She didn't see any bottles, which made her feel a little better, but then Eric's computer caught her eye.

The computer's monitor sat on a wooden desk that ran along the far wall, opposite the door as one entered the room, with the machine itself, a big square box, resting on the floor next to the desk. He had a fancy keyboard and mouse on the desk, fancier to help with computer games if she remembered correctly. Also, a modest office chair sat in front of the desk to complete his 'computer-station', as he sometimes called it.

Eric's computer wasn't sitting there idle with him gone though. Instead, it was running some photo screen saver that was fading images in and out, one after another. She hadn't paid any attention to it when she was first looking to see if Eric was home, but now, the images seemed more interesting, maybe more meaningful than she'd considered. Image after image seemed to be from the online fantasy roleplaying game he played. His avatar was in most of the images, she recognized it. He'd shown the avatar to her before. It was supposed to represent him in the game. He'd been boasting about something he'd accomplished, in the game, with a zeal she'd not seen in him since he'd lost his job. The game was important to him as was his avatar, that seemed clear. The avatar was iconically heroic, a huge masculine figure, heavily muscled, almost brutish looking, and wielding an impossibly large sword and shield. She felt like she was getting a glimpse at her husband's psyche. The avatar was an idealized image of himself, a conquering hero, a victorious warrior, something he longed to be but wasn't.

The images just kept coming and coming, there had to be hundreds of them, maybe thousands. How many hours did he spend playing the game?

Julia looked around Eric's computer room, or his office as he liked to call it. He didn't have much in the room outside of his computer-station, a small bookshelf filled with nothing but game manuals, a couple of crates sitting out filled with comic books, and a small side table next to his desk he used mostly for soft drinks. On the side table, there was empty soft drink bottles and two books. One of the books was a job hunting guide. It looked almost new, like it just came off the printing press. Thumbing through it, the book looked pristine. Other than that one book, there was little evidence he was actually looking for work. More importantly, it sat on top of another book which was in total contrast to it.

The other book, a large softcover tome, bore the marks of heavy use, the cover was curled and torn in places, the binding well cracked with creases and furrows. It was the first time Julia had seen the book which suggested he normally kept it out of view as if he was hiding it or was maybe ashamed of it. She picked up the book and thumbed through it quickly. It had dozens of dog-eared pages, another half dozen bookmarks made from ripped pieces of paper, and countless sections marked by a yellow highlighter. It was a game guide, for his computer game, the same game the screen saver was presenting with a seemingly countless number of image captures showing Eric's bold exploits and accomplishments in a fantasy world.

The longer she sat there, the more images rolled by on the screen. Julia couldn't help but wonder if Eric was really looking for work to the extent he always suggested he did, or if he'd become obsessed with, maybe even addicted to, online gaming. After watching hundreds of images roll by, she was sick of looking at his avatar and her headache had gotten worst. It was like he was living a whole other life without her, like she was living in the middle of a lie with somebody she didn't even know. Julia slammed Eric's keyboard to stop the slide show. But it only made things worst. Her mouth gapped open and her eyes went wide as she looked at the screen.

It was the game. The logon screen for the game had been hidden behind the screen saver the entire time. Julia didn't want to believe it. Her eyes went into a wide, unblinking stare. If the logon screen was there, he must have been playing it earlier in the day, while she was away at work. She clenched her hands until her nails started digging into her palms. They'd talked about it before, more than once. It was very clear. Eric was not to play games during the day while Julia was at work. And right now, he thought she was at work. It was contemptuous and utterly disrespectful for him to play computer games while Julia was earning all their money. It was just wrong. He'd promised. He was supposed to be looking for a new job or preparing himself for whatever opportunities might come his way. For that matter, he was also supposed to be helping keep the apartment clean, do some dusting occasionally or vacuuming, something, anything to help with their home. And he was most certainly supposed to do the dishes.

Julia fought back tears as she grabbed the mouse of Eric's computer and started clicking, searching. How far had he taken this? How bad was it? Determination and scorn gripped her as she searched his computer. It didn't take long to find all the images he'd taken in the game. There were thousands of them on his computer and there was no denying it, most of them were taken during the day, the timestamps on the images stood out like thousands of tiny signed confessions. Eric had been playing while she was at work, frequently.

A quiet indignation began growing in Julia. She wanted to lash out and hit something, or someone. Instead, she fanned her fingers out on the desk and just stared at the computer screen, letting the reality of what he'd been doing seep into her as her fingers began to nervously press then scratch at the wood of the desk. It became a comforting rhythm, both hands flexing in unison, scratching, her long nails looking like the claws of a cat considering its prey. Then, the screen saver started up again and an image of Eric, or rather the impossible muscle-bound brutish version of him, filled the screen. Another followed, and another...

"Good!" she exclaimed. "I'll watch you from the start," she said, addressing the screen saver with a crisp, mocking tone. "I wouldn't want to miss any of the fun you were having while I was working."

<<<<>>>>

CHAPTER THREE
Consequences

Eric was still feeling upset as he turned onto the street for their apartment, coming home from his shopping run. He'd stopped at the liquor store first, for something to relax him later that afternoon, and then the gaming store, where he normally went to blow off some time, poking around at different game manuals, magazines, and comics. Normally, he enjoyed strolling around the store, losing himself there, forgetting about the harsher realities of life; but today, it had been different. The visit to the gaming store had been agitating, even embarrassing. The ironic thing, to Eric, was that he'd spent a lot of money there in the past, back when he was working. He had crates filled with comics and magazines in his closet from that very store. Why should it matter if he was being a little more frugal these days? The comment the manager had hurled at him was humiliating. "This isn't a library," he'd said to him, trying to shame him into buying the magazine he'd been reading. Granted, he'd been there for a few minutes flipping through the pages and maybe a few more reading the one good article he saw, but he hadn't wanted to buy the magazine for a single article. He'd placed it back in the rack after his rebuke, flashed a faux smile at the man, and walked out. He needed to be a little more careful with money was all. Their joint account had much less in it since he'd lost his job and he didn't want Julia getting upset over questionable charges on their credit card bill. It was so damn frustrating. He gritted his teeth as he thought about it. Could he even go back to that store now?

He parked his car on the street, a bit away from their building. It meant walking a little further to the entrance, but Eric felt it was better than parking in the lot, off the ally, in the back of their building. It felt less conspicuous somehow since most of the cars in the back disappeared each morning as people went off to work, including Julia's. Having his car sitting out back, after everybody had gone to work, sitting out there alone, like a sore thumb, virtually proclaiming he was still unemployed, felt awkward at best. Maybe it was a small thing, but it helped him feel better about his situation.

Eric retrieved the paper sack from the back seat of his car as he exited and wrapped his arm around it, concealing it as best he could. Guilt gnawed at his conscience as he began walking to the entrance of the building. Guilt over wasting money on beer, guilt over wasting most of his time everyday in utterly empty pursuits, guilt over being humiliated at the store, guilt over not being a better man overall, it all gnawed at him as he walked on. Looking at the first floor patio across the court, Eric wondered if John, the drunk in the next building over, had started like this, remorseful and guilty, drowning his sorrows with booze, until, one day, the alcohol just took over and he didn't care anymore. Oblivion. It was depressing to even think about it.

Just as Eric's sense of self-pity was starting to peak he spotted Julia's car in the back and stopped dead in his tracks. He just stared at the car for a few moments, his mind perplexed, trying to catch up with the fact that she must of come home early from work. He took a few tiny steps backward as trepidation and worry began displacing his growing sense of self-loathing. She wasn't going to approve of the beer at all if she saw it, Eric reasoned. Hide it back in the car? The idea made him wince. He took a deep breath and tried to think it through, what was happening to him, the drinking, all the gaming. Then he froze.

"Shit."

Eric ran to the building, threw the outer door open, fumbling with his keys as he nervously keyed open the inner security door, and bolted up the stairs in a panic.

The game. He left the damn game running. If Julia saw it...

He keyed their apartment door, panting, fingers trembling, trying to regain some composure. Eric numbly dropped the paper sack as he entered. He took a deep breath, easing it out, then walked slowly, gingerly through the apartment scanning for Julia. Her purse was on the dinning room table with her cellphone resting next to it. She wasn't on the patio but the drapes were wide open. Had she seen his empty beer bottles? Would she care if she had? He slowed his pace as he approached the bedrooms in the back of the apartment. Maybe she wasn't feeling well and had come home to rest. Maybe she was taking a nap in their bed. But she wasn't. Eric's heart sank.

He found Julia sitting in his office, in front of his computer, just staring at the screen, watching the screen saver presenting one image of the game after another to her. It was like she'd found a private, photo album and was flipping through all the pages, with little, hidden secrets leaking out as the computer changed from one image to the next. Julia just sat there, looking at the screen, motionless, except for her red nails which were scratching slowly at the top of the desk like she was in a type of trance. She kept her back to Eric the entire time. The longer he watched her the more unnerving it became.

"You know, I came home early today to share some news with you," Julia said with a slight quaver in her voice, still facing the computer with her back to him. "The key word there... share," she said. "So, can you imagine how I felt finding out today that you've been hiding things from me? Lying to me?" she said, her tone and manner getting louder, more angry as she spoke.

"Juls--"

"Stop!" Julia spat, as she turned around suddenly to face Eric. "You told me you wouldn't game anymore while I was at work earning our money. You have no business playing while I work! You told me you understood that it was disrespectful to me and wrong and you agreed you'd never do it again. So were you just lying to me or you don't care about my feelings or what?! Which is it Eric?"

"Juls... I haven't really--"

"Oh no, do not lie to my face! I've seen your screen saver and I looked at your computer. I know when you took those pictures. I'm not an idiot! You've been playing during the day! While I was working!" she said. "Don't insult my intelligence on top of everything else by denying it."

An awkward silence filled the room. Eric didn't know what to say to her. He wasn't even sure what to say to himself. He looked into Julia's beautiful eyes, remembering when they'd been so full of hope for their future together, so full of love and excitement, but now he saw nothing but anger and hurt and betrayal in them.

Julia reached around behind her to the well worn game guide she'd found earlier and hurled it at Eric, tearing off the cover with a wrenching throw. Eric flinched reflexively as the book hit him in the chest and fell to the floor. It lay there sprawled open at his feet, it's ripped cover landing a couple of feet to the side. "Explain that too while you're at it," she said gesturing to the book. "It looks like you live in that game," she said.

Eric looked at Julia sitting there, in his office, in his chair, filled with bitter rage. He was utterly unprepared to deal with her. He'd seen her angry before but this was something different, a type of fury he'd never seen in her. A part of him wanted to fight back, but he felt responsible. He was the one that had hurt her, he knew the rules, he could have prevented this. "I'm sorry," Eric said, almost in a whisper as a deep sadness embraced him.

Julia stared incredulously at Eric. "That's it? You're sorry?"

"I was wrong. I'm sorry," he said contritely. "I'm not sure what else to say Juls. I just... it's been really hard being out of work so long. My job used to be really important to me and it just... went away." Eric leaned against the wall and looked away, not wanting to lock eyes with Julia as feelings of shame mingled with sadness in him. "It's been a long time Juls, being out of work." He picked up the sprawled book at his feet, held it in both hands, and stared at it. "I guess, playing the game, accomplishing goals in the game... It's been giving me a sense of doing something, achieving something," Eric said as he struggled to keep his composure. "I'm not sure what else to say. Its like I matter there, Juls."

Julia looked at her husband and saw a different side of the man that she'd never seen before. He looked insecure, a bit frail, lost. Where was the confident, considerate man she'd fallen in love with? She didn't much like this side of him. Should she feel compassion for him? Contempt? Weren't men supposed to be the strong ones or was that just another myth spread by the patriarchy?

"Eric," she said with as much calm as she could muster, "what you're supposed to be accomplishing and achieving is getting another job. Maybe it means training or going back to school so you can do something else. You can be doing research or reading or taking a class or working on networking with people. There's lots of things you can do, lots of ways to move forward, contribute." Julia stood up and crossed the room until she was inches away from Eric's face. Her anger spiked again as she stood next to him. "What you absolutely do NOT do is play games all day, drink beer, and let the dirt and dishes pile up all around you!"

Eric stood there mortified. Everything she was saying was true and they both knew it. Arguing with her seemed pointless. If there was supposed to be a winner and loser of this fight, Eric knew he'd just lost.

"Juls, I really am sorry. I... lost myself someplace over the months," Eric's face turned to a pained expression as months of regret and disillusionment registered. "I didn't do anything wrong Juls. They just took my job and gave it away," he said, his eyes looking almost glassy and far away. "It wasn't my fault. Really it wasn't. They just decided to advance some women at the company. And..." he stopped for a moment, trying to find a way to make sense of it all, trying to find a way to express his grief and loss. "Call it equality or reverse discrimination. Call it whatever you want, gender politics or anything else. Truth is, I lost my job because I didn't have the right genitals to keep it, Juls," he said, sounding defeated.

Julia looked at him with suspicion. "So, maybe that wasn't fair. But maybe they were making up for years of discrimination against women and trying to balance things out. So, you got caught in the middle. Whatever, fair or not, you have an obligation to me, to your wife, to do your part for our family. You get that right?"

"Juls, it's not like I haven't tried," he said with a pleading tone. "Remember, a few months ago, I thought I had that job at that financial firm? I got the referral from my friend there, Tom Hastings. He helped line it all up. I got a personal recommendation letter from him. The second interview went great and I really thought they were going to make me an offer. Then, like a week later Tom told me they gave the job to a woman. Tom said I had the better qualifications. She still got the job. Remember all that? More gender politics, Juls. Men are losing opportunities all over and I don't see any class-action lawsuits defending us out there. So long as women are getting opportunities and promotions nothing else seems to matter."

Julia looked at Eric sternly, ready to defend her gender. "You can't dump all your problems at the feet of women, Eric. Women didn't force you to play the game and disrespect me. Women didn't force beer down your throat. And women surely didn't force you to pile up the dishes in the sink and let them sit there so I can do them after working all day!"

Eric remained silent. She didn't seem to care that men were having a harder time now or that the world had seemed to flip upside-down.

"I hope you're not planning on ending up like that John across from us -- unemployed, do nothing, drunk. He's an embarrassment," Julia stated emphatically. "I don't plan on living like that! We were talking about having a baby that I could maybe stay at home with. I don't see how that's even possible today!"

"I'm really sorry Julia, I really am," Eric said.

"Okay, if you really are sorry, if you really are, then you need to fix it," she said.

"I'm out there looking everyday, Juls. Okay, I can try harder, but I have myself out there on all kinds of job sites and networking sites."

"That's fine," she said. "But I'm talking about more than that. You need to promise to stay off the game while I'm sweating my ass off trying to earn money so we can eat and have a roof over our heads." She looked at him squarely until he locked eyes with her. "Stay off the game during the day!" she exclaimed, pointing her index finger at his face to underscore the point. "You can't disrespect me like that again."

Eric nodded. "Okay, I won't play during the day anymore."

"No more beer during the day either. I don't want you ending up like John."

"Okay, I can do that," Eric said.

Julia studied Eric for a few moments, looking at him like he was an errant, disobedient child, hands on her hips, fuming. "And do the damn dishes!"

Eric gave her a reassuring nod.

"Now!" she yelled.

"Okay, you're right Julia," Eric said as he walked to the kitchen.

Julia followed and watched him as he began loading the dishwasher. He should be washing the dishes, he'd agreed to it a long time ago, she reasoned. Being home all the time it made sense. But as Julia stood there watching him, hands on her hips, she realized there was something different going on. She wasn't so much watching him as she was supervising him. He wasn't just doing the dishes like he'd agreed to, he was doing them because she'd just ordered him to.

It was a moment of realization, a moment that underscored a change between them -- she'd ordered him. Maybe it was wrong, she admitted to herself, but there was something deliciously naughty in bossing him around. Maybe with his confidence eroded, as it was, he was easier to manipulate, more like a little boy than a man. Then Julia remembered something Samantha had said earlier: 'You're the one supporting the family... You're the one with the power now". Was she right? The old, confident Eric, back in the days when his career was good and he was earning a good salary, would have never allowed her to simply boss him around like this new, insecure, and lost Eric had just done. Julia felt conflicted. She shouldn't like how satisfying it felt to watch Eric jump to her commands like he'd just done, should she? It was an interesting question. Maybe men were weaker than she thought. Maybe Samantha had been right about that all along.

"Another thing," Julia shouted to Eric while he was scrubbing some hard gunk out of the bottom of a glass baking pan. He looked over his shoulder at her as he kept scrubbing. At that moment, hunched over the sink, looking back at her, waiting for her next words, he looked more like a servant to her than her husband, he'd fallen so far since their early days together. She almost wanted to know how much further she could push him before he fought back. "I've been thinking," she started, "since you violated our agreement about playing games while I was working, which really is a very serious thing, like a slap in the face to me...," she let her words trail off as anticipation built in her for what she was planning on saying next. "I've been thinking, you need a... punishment," a pang of excitement shooting thorough her as the last word fell from her lips.

Eric stopped scrubbing and turned around at the sink, his face contorted between puzzlement and concern as he struggled to understand the dynamic playing out between them. He paused for a moment, looking directly at her, then seemingly found some resolve as he folded his arms across his chest and stood straight, a resurgence of male pride beginning to etch itself across his features. "Julia, I don't--"

"You don't think you deserve a punishment?" she interrupted. "I disagree. You said you were sorry. You admitted you were wrong. But I'm not sure you understand how deeply wrong it was. Playing games and drinking while I'm supporting you just isn't something I'm willing to let you do," she said, letting the implied threat linger and burn for a few moments. "You need a punishment."

Eric looked at his beautiful wife standing there, arms crossed, asserting herself with authority she'd never wielded before. His mouth hung open while his mind looked for the words to object. The very idea that Julia could impose a punishment stuck in his heart like a spike. He wanted to yell at her, tell her to hang her punishment, that it was absurd. But she was earning all their money. Every dime he spent was coming from her. What would she do? Did he even want to challenge her and find out? How could he have let himself come to this place?

"You have every right to be upset," Eric said, galled at having to mollify her but it had to be better than fighting with her. "There's days when it's harder than other days for me, when I'm really upset with where I'm at." Eric flashed her an enigmatic smile twisted by painful memories. "Some of those days I wanted to escape I guess. The game helped me do that." Eric looked at her sincerely, hoping she'd understand. "I wasn't trying to be disrespectful to you, Juls. But, you're right. We had an agreement and I broke it. I really am sorry," he said with a heartfelt voice, appealing to her, hoping to satisfy her.

"Sorry?" Julia looked at him suspiciously, pursing her lips. "I don't know Eric," Julia said, shaking her head. "You have responsibilities and I'm not seeing anything getting better here. It looks like it's getting worst in fact. You're a grown man. I can't ground you. What am I supposed to do? Take the power cord from your computer with me to work everyday? Stuff it in my purse in the morning?" she asked with a questioning shrug.

"But, I use the computer for work. I mean, I visit job sites. I'm trying to get some interviews," he said dolefully. "I'm doing other stuff too, trying to keep current. Trying to stay plugged in."

"Well, I'm not sure what to do here Eric. I don't think a simple, 'I'm sorry' is good enough. You need to be punished." Julia stared at Eric with a stern but questioning gaze, waiting for him to accept the idea and acquiesce.

It was an odd moment. As Eric looked at Julia something palpable stirred between them, something primal, something that defined who they were to each other. He'd taken too much from her already today. He needed to walk away from her and put them back on some type of equal footing even if it did risk her anger. "Julia, I just can't accept that," he said matter-of-factly.

Julia looked at him sternly, her eyes unwavering on his, unblinking, staring him down. "Honestly, I don't care if you want to accept it or not Eric," she said acidly. "So, from now on, I'm just going to have to make sure you get back on track by myself," she said. "I'll be taking the power cord from your computer to work with me every morning from now on," she announced. "You won't be able to play any longer, so you won't be able to disrespect me any longer. You can have the cord when I get home at night, assuming you did the dishes of course." Eric looked at her with a dead-pan glare.

"You can't... do that Julia," Eric said.

"No? I'm the only one paying bills around here Eric so I really can do that," she said. "It's my electricity you're using, in the apartment I'm paying for. So, if I say you can't use the computer, then you can't." Julia stood in front of him, resolute, her boldness growing by the minute.

Eric couldn't believe she was going this far. He barely recognized her. Trying to mollify her hadn't worked. Trying to appeal to her hadn't worked. Maybe simple defiance would work. "Fine Julia, go ahead, take the power cord," he said dismissively. "I'll just go pickup a new one."

She arched her eyebrows at him, surprised that he wanted to raise the stakes, but pleased at the same time that he still had fight left in him. Regardless, she was determined to win and she knew she held all the cards, literally. "You know, that's a really good point Eric. I'll be needing your credit cards, and your ATM card, and whatever cash you have in your wallet," she said, holding her palm out. "If you want to play games with me I'll simply cut you off and leave you penniless. You can give me everything -- right now," she said, a firm determination in her voice.

Eric had a sudden sense that his world was crumbling around him, that months of gaming, inaction and regret had finally caught up with him to tear his world asunder. "You can't be serious Juls, please" Eric whined.

"I'm totally serious, all your cards and cash. Now!"

Eric looked frozen, shock carved into his face, the fight draining out of him completely as reality began to sink in. He couldn't win this fight with her. He didn't honestly have anything to fight with.

"If I have to I'll call-in and report them all stolen, have them cancelled. They'll be useless and you won't get replacements. They'll confiscate them if you try to use them, maybe call the police. Your choice," she said with a grin.

Eric slackened, his shoulders sank, his gaze dropped to the floor, preferring to stare at her feet rather than look her in the eyes. The facade, in his mind, that he was somehow her equal crumbled. "Please Juls, don't do this," he pleaded, with as calm a voice as he could muster.

She regarded her defeated husband with a smirk. "If you agree right now that you deserve to be punished then I'll reconsider cutting you off financially," a thrill ran through Julia as she said it. This was what power felt like.

"Okay... I... I agree," he said softly, keeping his eyes fixed on her feet.

She looked at Eric with a sense of triumph, scorn and pity. She'd won. He'd surrendered. It was that simple. Part of her wanted to grant him some sympathy at that point but as she looked at her vulnerable, defeated spouse she wanted to penalize him for being as weak as he was too. "That's not enough now. I want to hear the words. Tell me that you deserve to be punished," she said.

Eric recoiled inside. He knew he should walk away. What self-respecting man would say such words? But he wasn't willing to risk losing everything with Julia. Nothing else he'd tried had worked.

"Okay, yes, you're right Julia. I deserve to be punished for disrespecting you by playing computer games while you were working and for drinking during the day and for not finding a job after all this time! I deserve to be punished!" Eric spat out, wrenching it from deep frustrations he felt within, his face burning at the shame of it, of being forced to speak the words by his wife.

Julia smiled with satisfaction. She almost felt guilty at making Eric grovel but a stronger person, a better husband, wouldn't be in his situation, she reasoned. Maybe it would teach him something. Besides, there was something thrilling about it all. Samantha had been right, Julia had the power in their marriage. She'd had it for a long time. She'd just needed to learn how to use it. Walking up to Eric, she gave him a patronizing kiss on the cheek, rewarding him for finally giving in to her. "I'm glad you finally accepted the truth," Julia said matter-of-factly. "Now, I'd be interested in what you consider a fair punishment."

Eric stood there further humiliated by his wife's brash demand. What would Julia consider reasonable punishment? His mind reeled as he tried to piece it together. "Okay, I'm thinking that maybe I should try to balance things out. Playing while you're working? Maybe I can reverse that? Let you play while I work? Or maybe take some of your work off your plate? Do stuff you normally do and give you free time back?" Eric looked at Julia who still seemed to be listening and waiting. "I can take on some additional work around the apartment, do all the dusting and vacuuming on the weekends for awhile. Maybe all the housework for awhile. That would give you more free time on the weekend, give you some time back."

Julia looked at him questioningly. "For how long?"

"I don't know. Whatever you think is fair. Maybe, a month. How's that?" he asked.

Julia nodded subtly, seeming to approve, rolling something over in her head. "Make it three months. All the housework. And you can do my laundry too."

Eric took a deep breath and opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, then, just a suddenly, replaced it with a curious, puzzled look as he searched Julia's face, as if he hoped she'd reconsider.

"I'm serious," Julia said. "Don't worry, I'll show you what needs to be washed in the delicate cycle and what needs to be hand-washed, all those little details. You'll be fine. You might even find you like washing some of my more delicate things." Julia smiled at him, then suddenly smacked him on the ass once, hard, making him flinch. "Now finish the dishes," she commanded.

"Okay Juls," he said with a weak smile as he turned back to the sink.

"Ya know what? All this arguing is exhausting. I think I need some time to clear my head. I'm going to go out for a little shopping therapy," she announced as she put her heels back on. "I really need a new outfit," she said with a smile. Julia walked over to Eric, standing just slightly taller than him in her pumps, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek while he rinsed a plate in the sink. "Don't bother waiting on me for dinner tonight. I'm going to see if Samantha is free, maybe meet her someplace for a nibble. I think we still have leftovers you can eat from last night."

She walked off to leave and stopped at the entryway. Eric heard the paper sack he'd left at the door earlier rustling. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as he heard Julia walking back towards the kitchen. Then the paper sack was dropped onto their small kitchen table. He kept his face in the sink, pretending she wasn't there, hoping she'd just leave.

"Don't you dare ignore me!" Julia shouted.

Eric turned around quickly to face her, the plate still in his hands. "I'm sorry Juls," he said.

"From now on, you don't buy beer without asking me first!" she said. "You got it?!"

Eric nodded in agrement.

"And no more than a couple of these tonight," she added. "I don't want to come home and find you drunk."

Eric nodded. "I really am sorry you came home to all these problems, Juls," he said, hoping to gain a little sympathy from her before she went out.

"Coming home early to all of this..." she just shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, didn't you say you came home early to share something with me?" Eric asked.

Julia considered Eric's situation and how much she'd exercised power over him that afternoon. His life had taken a dramatic, and sudden, turn. She even planned to have him start hand washing her panties soon. He'd fallen so far in such a short time. He seemed fragile. If she pushed him too hard, or too fast he might break somehow. Telling him that she was getting a promotion and a raise while he was still out of work might totally crush his ego, reduce him to ash.

"The company had a good quarter so they decided to give everybody in sales a small bonus, enough for a nice meal somewhere," she lied. "If you play your cards right, maybe I'll wear that little black dress you like so much on me and we'll go to a fancy restaurant downtown."

"I'd like that," he said.

"Good," she said simply, then turned on her heels and walked away, preparing to leave again. Eric took several quick steps forward to get out of the kitchen to watch her go. She walked with a stimulating boldness, her skirt swaying around her thighs as she moved, her heels clicking on the tiles as she walked out the door. Julia was so damn hot in her short skirts and heels, almost hypnotically so. He didn't want to lose her he reminded himself. A girl as exciting as Julia didn't come along every day, and much less often if you were more on the nerdy side like Eric was.

He sighed heavily, savoring the image of Julia in his mind, and walked back to the sink to continue working on the dishes. If he wasn't done with them before Julia got home he was sure he'd be in trouble. It was better to keep her happy.

<<<<>>>>

CHAPTER FOUR
AGen

Julia took another sip of wine and gently rested the long-stemmed glass back to the table as Samantha smiled at her affectionately. The burgundy liquid looked regal in the soft lighting of the restaurant, sitting upon the pearl-white tablecloth adorning their table. Adding to the ambiance, a single rose rested in a slender, glass vase, infusing the air with a delicate floral bouquet. The tables and chairs were simple wood furnishings made from rich, dark-oak which added to a sense of old world European charm. It was a quaint, modest, little restaurant but what it might have lacked in decor it made up for in the quality of it's food. It was one of Julia's special places to dine out.

After the argument with Eric, Julia had sent a text to Samantha to see if she was free for dinner. Samantha had cheerily replied that she was. So, after picking up a couple of new outfits, and a new pair of the most adorable, stiletto ankle-boots Julia had seen in some time, she joined Samantha at the restaurant.

Julia was still riding on something of a high after putting Eric in his place that afternoon. All during her small shopping spree, the image of Eric at the sink scrubbing dishes, after she'd ordered him to, kept replaying itself in her mind. Despite the misgivings she felt over the whole situation, that image, of a beaten and compliant Eric, had kept a pride filled smile on her face the entire afternoon.

"This really is a charming little place," Samantha said.

"We used to come here all the time, right after Eric and I got married," Julia said. "Haven't been here for awhile, not since he lost his job, but I felt like celebrating a little tonight."

"Does that mean you're accepting the promotion?" Samantha looked excited, ready to celebrate.

Julia returned a pained grin. "I wish it was that easy." She looked away, like she was looking for answers in some distant place. "Honestly, I'm really torn Sam," she said. "As nice as it would be, Eric and I are already having problems. We're going through a really rough patch right now. I don't even want to tell you how bad," she said. "I don't think his male ego can deal with me being so far ahead of him professionally on top of everything else right now." Her expression grew more grim as she considered the full scope of her situation. "I'm also fairly certain it means no baby for me. Not anytime soon anyway."

Samantha nodded, sympathizing with her friend. They both sat there for a few moments, still, quiet, a pall seeming to settle around them over Julia's situation. Breaking the tension of the moment, Samantha started to say something but then stopped just as suddenly as she had started, like she was struggling with what she wanted to say.

"What is it Sam?" Julia asked with a concerned look.

Samantha leaned forward slightly over the table and lowered her voice. "You remember what I said at lunch about there being a solution that would fix everything?"

"It's okay Sam. You don't need to apologize or anything," Julia said dismissively, shaking her head. "I ran through it a thousand times in my own head. I know there's no--"

"No, there is," Samantha interrupted. "There is a way. It's just... very unconventional," Samantha said soberly, looking intensely serious suddenly.

"What... what do you mean?" Julia asked.

Samantha shrugged her shoulders and took a deep breath. "I was thinking of waiting until I had more of the details," Samantha said flatly, "but... I'm afraid there's a good chance you're going to lose your promotion if I do that. Corporate is going to expect an answer soon, Julia. Very soon."

"I understand," Julia said. "So what's this unconventional solution?"

"Okay, let's talk about what I do know," Samantha started. "I called some contacts after lunch wanting to know if the things I'd heard about were true." Samantha's eyes narrowed into a pensive glare. "I want you to know, I talked to two womyn I respect a great deal, womyn that are in a position to know about this. Both of them confirmed the stories I'd heard were true. One of them even sent me a document from the medical group involved in the research."

"Medical group?!" Julia sat back in her chair feeling a little flush. "You're scaring me, Sam. What stories? What are you talking about?"

"Okay, I think this might be difficult for you to get your head around," Samantha said. "Even so, this isn't only about your situation but about the advancement of womynkind overall. It's important. You should know all your options, not just the limited options men want to put on you."

Julia looked a bit wide-eyed. "Sure. I guess it doesn't hurt to listen," she said with a quick shrug. She flashed a tense smile and leaned in towards Samantha and added, "I trust you Sam. After all, you did help me get Eric to start helping with the housework at home. You opened my eyes up to new possibilities, helped me understand I didn't have to live life exactly like my mom did."

Samantha smiled, her eyes brightened. "Exactly. And, that only made sense right? He was home all day after losing his job. He really didn't have that much to do. Yet, he still expected you to do all the housework - a typical man with expectations of male privilege. He wasn't thinking about his family so much as he was lost in the fantasy of gender based roles where he was supposed to be the primary breadwinner and the womon did everything else, including holding down a job, of her own, outside the home."

"It was so frustrating coming home from work and then having to cook and clean too. It was like I had two jobs and all the while he sat there watching TV or played games on his computer," Julia said with a scowl. She wrapped her arms around herself defensively, the memories of those times, the frustrations, the resentments, the arguments, still fresh in her mind.

"You need to remember the struggle you had with him over something as simple as contributing to his home and helping his wife," Samantha said, pleased to see Julia struggling to keep her anger at Eric under control. "The situation your in now isn't much different than the one from before. He's still practicing out of an archaic belief system where you're expected to give up everything for the children while he sits back and watches. In his mind, caring for an infant is 'womyn's work'. But, that's simply not true. There's nothing wrong, at all, with Eric taking on the nurturing role for his child. If your family needs one of you to become the full-time caretaker for your baby it only makes sense that Eric would fill that role because he's home all the time. He's not working, you are."

Samantha was convinced Julia had the makings of a strong willed feminist. She just needed to be pushed a little more to move her from the sense of security she derived from compliance with the traditional, patriarchal, values of her upbringing. If Samantha could get Julia to take the next step she had in mind, Julia would evolve. Eric would be forced to evolve too or leave Julia, if he could. Either was fine with Samantha.

"Except, like I said, I want to breastfeed my baby," Julia said matter-of-factly.

Samantha took a sip of wine then gracefully placed the glass back on the table as she smiled at her beautiful friend.

"What if I told you he could do that too," Samantha said solemnly.

Julia wrinkled her face with a confused look. "I... don't understand. Breastfeed. I said breastfeed."

"Exactly," Samantha replied with a nod.

Julia looked even more confused. "Am I missing something here? It's Eric, not Erica. He doesn't even have man-boobs. He's always been thin as a rail." She leaned over the table towards Samantha and lowered her voice. "There's nothing there to breastfeed with. Even if they could give a man something to make him lactate there's just nothing there to lactate with."

"And what if he did have something to lactate with?" Samantha asked with a serene smile.

Julia glowered at Samantha, clearly confused by the theme of the conversation. 

"Okay, let's back up for a bit," Samantha began. "Let's say we had a perfect world where there were no men," she grinned at her private joke. "And in such a world, two womyn could get together when they wanted a child and they could decide who would carry the child and who would breastfeed and nurture the child as independent decisions. In other words, regardless of who got pregnant with the child, either partner or both could breastfeed their child. Now, in such a perfect world, if one womon was working, supporting them both, and the other womon not working, wouldn't it make sense, wouldn't it be the logical thing to do, the fair thing to do, to have the womon already home provide the breastfeeding and care for their child?"

"Well, sure, I guess that makes sense," admitted Julia. "I guess that would be a reasonable and fair thing to do. But like I said, Eric obviously isn't a woman."

"True, Eric isn't a womon, but he could be... upgraded," Samantha said.

"Upgraded?" Julia echoed in dismay.

"It's the only logical solution to your dilemma. You need to put breasts on Eric and have him breastfeed your baby."

Julia's jaw dropped open, aghast at the suggestion. "You're not serious, are you?"

Samantha nodded slowly and smiled.

"Sam? Really?! That's what that medical group does?!"

"It's one of the things they can do," Samantha said. "I know this sounds a little 'out there' but it really isn't. It's not something totally new. Eric wouldn't be the first man that breastfed a child. And when you think about it, having men develop breasts is progress for both womyn and men where their's more true equality for both. Womyn don't have to feel trapped between their children and their careers and men can explore their feminine side in a way never before possible. Men can now have that intense bond with their children that can only be had through breastfeeding. Eric can have that bond. Heck, men might even evolve into more caring persons. This really is the future," she said.

Julia sat there dumbfounded. But, it was obvious just from looking at her, that Samantha was serious.

"Well? What do you think?" Samantha asked

"I think I need a minute to digest this," Julia said. Samantha looked so relaxed now, even satisfied by their conversation. It seemed so strange, two women sitting at dinner, calmly discussing what amounted to the feminizing of men and the benefits it provided to humankind. Even stranger, discussing with another woman, the idea of putting breasts on her own husband! In essence, feminizing her own husband!

As Julia sat there trying to make sense of it all, the waiter finally arrived with the pasta salads they'd ordered earlier. Julia caught him leering at her cleavage as he placed her plate down. She couldn't help but wonder if that bit of rudeness would cease if men had boobs of their own. Samantha actually rolled her arms forward a bit, pressing her breasts slightly together and out, as he lowered her plate, intentionally drawing his attention to her. The plate hit the table a bit harder than it should have and Samantha giggled at the control her body could exert so easily over men. He walked away with an awkward nod, embarrassed.

"They're so easy to manipulate. I can't help myself sometimes," Samantha whispered.

Julia rolled her eyes at her.

Samantha was a beautiful woman. Teasing men for sport didn't seem entirely fair but it wasn't like she forced them to look or anything. There was a vibrancy about her too, a passion, and a commitment to women or, as she would say it -- womyn. Julia had never really thought much about feminism prior to meeting Samantha. Naturally, Julia believed in equal pay for equal work, and more opportunities for women overall, that was just common sense. Samantha's brand of feminism went much further though. Over the months, she had emailed Julia article after article, all of them very pro-female and most of them stridently anti-male. Feminism wasn't something casual to Samantha, it seemed to be a crusade to her. She'd been trying to shift Julia's world view since they first met. Most of it had seemed so 'over the top' at first, but oddly, over time, some of it anyway, seemed to make more and more sense. But this? Put breasts on her husband? It seemed crazy. Wasn't it? But Samantha was right about one thing, it would solve Julia's dilemma with taking the promotion and having a baby with Eric.

"Okay, I'm not saying I'm interested," Julia said slowly. "Just call me curious. I really am. How is this supposed to work exactly?"

Samantha smiled and looked at Julia with satisfaction. "That was one of the main things I wanted to confirm before I talked to you about it." Samantha reached down to her purse on the floor and plucked out her phone. "I think I mentioned one of womyn I talked to sent me a document," she said as she worked with her phone to pull it up. "I made some notes. I think you need a background in biotech or genetics to really understand the thing, it's really complex stuff," she said as she tapped away.

Julia felt an odd mixture of anxiety and excitement growing in her. She couldn't be really considering doing this to Eric, could she? He'd refuse to do it, he'd have to. She couldn't force him to do it, could she?

Samantha began reading her notes, lowering her voice a bit to avoid being overheard, "They call it, Andromammary Genesis or AGen."

Julia mouthed the term to herself, familiarizing herself with it, "AGen".

"I'm paraphrasing now," Samantha said. "A human enhancement technology combining gene splicing, nanotechnology, molecular hormonal transmitters and supporting apparatus to provision, rapidly develop, and maintain mammary glands in the human male." She stopped reading and looked up at Julia. "We're talking about some really high-tech, cutting edge stuff. This is way beyond using female hormones and waiting months or years for breast development. From everything I read in the document, it's designed to put breasts on men so they can lactate, I think they said 'fully nourish an infant', in twelve weeks."

Julia's mouth dropped open again. "If that's true... I'd have months to convince him to do it so he could breastfeed our baby."

"There is one thing that might make it difficult for you though," Samantha said.

"Just one?" Julia asked with a soft chuckle. "I'm thinking it's impossibly expensive just for starters and that assumes Eric would even qualify for it."

"Actually, the way I hear it, they're looking for volunteers. I don't think there's even a cost," Samantha said.

"Wow," Julia said pleasantly surprised.

"Anyway, I don't think there's an issue with having them do the procedure. Not from what I was told. More than anything, the issue is getting Eric to agree to it," Samantha said.

Julia nodded. "Yeah, of course, I can't imagine any guy agreeing to something like that. Heck, I'm not even sure I'd want him to do it. I mean, it is appealing on one level, it really is. It would solve my problem. But the thought of Eric having boobs... forever?" Julia shook her head. "I just don't know what to think about that."

"Just remember, we're not talking large here. A small breasted womon can still breastfeed. Maybe they'd give him A-cups," Samantha said.

"That might not be too bad," Julia mused. "I bet he'd never want to go around topless again but I don't really have a problem with that. I can't run around topless whenever I want. Why should he be able to?"

"Exactly, think of it in terms of fairness and equality. Then it makes perfect sense," Samantha urged. "In fact, maybe that's a way to help convince him to agree to it, a basic fairness and equality argument. It is true. With you working and him home all the time, why wouldn't he want to breastfeed your baby?"

Julia nodded.

Samantha stared at Julia for a few moments, taking her in. She really was breathtaking. Curvaceous, sensual, poised. If only Eric was out of the way she reasoned, maybe, just maybe--

"Maybe I could force him to do it," Julia said abruptly.

"What?! Where's that coming from?" Samantha asked astonished.

Julia took a sip of wine and smiled coyly at Samantha. She knew her firebrand feminist friend would be thrilled to hear what had happened with Eric that afternoon. It was too delicious a turn of events not to share.

"Come on, give! I can see it in your face. What happened?" Samantha grabbed her wine glass too and began sipping. She looked giddy, excited, her smile infectious.

"Well, remember I went home early today?" Julia began.

Samantha nodded.

"I found out that Eric, instead of getting a job, has secretly been playing computer games during the day while I've been working my butt off to support us!" Julia said. "Honestly, I'm not sure if he's even making an effort to get a new job. I think maybe he likes the idea of sponging off me."

"Oh, Julia. I'm so sorry," Samantha said with genuine concern and pity in her voice.

"It gets worse," Julia said with disgust. "He wasn't even home when I got there today. He was out at a liquor store buying beer. He's taken up drinking. During the day." Julia had a look of revulsion on her face. "I guess his ambition is to become a drunk. On my money, no less!"

"Men. That's terrible!," Samantha spat.

"It really is. And the drinking seems to be getting worse despite the fact that we have a loser-drunk living in the building next to us that he can see everyday. He has to see where he's heading, right?," Julia said. "I feel so, so sorry for the wife too. That man is pathetic."

"Sounds like Eric is maybe walking in his footsteps," Samantha suggested.

"It's beginning to look that way," Julia admitted. "He's playing games all day, drinking all day, and barely lifting a finger around the apartment to keep it clean despite the promises he made to help out." Julia shook her head in frustration. "It's like he lost his job and he's regressed back to childhood and wants me to be his mommy now. What happened to the man I married?"

Samantha's face was twisted into a pouty scowl as she listened. "I've heard that complaint more than once. It's like men wrap their whole identity in their jobs and when they don't have one they just fall apart, crumble into little pieces and start behaving like children," Samantha said.

"Well, I refuse to let that happen to Eric and me. He's not going to play games during the day. He's not going to drink during the day. And he is going to be doing housework whether he likes it or not!" Julia said emphatically.

"You go, girl!" Samantha lifted her wine glass and they clinked them together celebrating Julia's resolve.

"So here's the sweet part..." Julia sat up a little straighter in her chair, the sense of pride she'd felt earlier swelling in her again. "I threatened to totally cut him off financially and leave him penniless."

Samantha smiled broadly, her face filled with excitement as she clapped her hands together politely. "Good for you Julia," she said sincerely. "I hope this doesn't come out wrong but I'm actually... proud of you."

Julia shrugged and smiled, basking in the praise.

The waiter came over to check on them, making sure to keep his eyes glued to his order pad, this time, as they ordered more wine. He returned quickly and refilled their glasses, making sure to keep his eyes on the table. It was obvious he was avoiding looking at either of the women for fear of being caught ogling again. After filling the glasses, he walked quickly away, like a peasant fearing the possible wrath of royalty.

"I knew you were the one with all the real power in that marriage," Samantha said.

"You were right," Julia admitted with a grin. "And, thank you for helping me see the truth," she added.

"You're totally welcome," Samantha said elegantly as she tipped her head down slightly in acknowledgment.

Julia's smile began to fade and she took on a more thoughtful looking repose. "I ordered Eric to do the dishes before I left to go shopping," she started. "I'm going to make him do all the housework for the next three months, maybe longer if he can't find a job." Julia toyed with her drink, pulling it slowly closer to her using just the the long nail of her index finger. "I think he's terrified that I'll take all his spending money away. Maybe afraid I'll kick him to the curb." She took a tiny sip of wine, savoring it briefly. "I think, he'll clean the apartment so long as I force him to, maybe for as long as I demand," she continued. "But honestly, making him grow boobs, if I decided I actually wanted that... I think he'd defy me. I just can't see him agreeing to that."

"I'm sure you're right. Controlling all the money probably isn't enough. But..." Samantha's mouth suddenly curled into a devious looking crook, a smile that looked more sinister than pleasant, "...as womyn, there's a lot more we can do to convince Eric to obey you."

Julia arched her eyebrow suspiciously. "I'm listening."

"Have you ever heard of a FLM?" Samantha asked.

Julia wrinkled her brow and shook her head.

Samantha locked eyes with her. "It stands for 'Female Lead Marriage'".

Julia's shock registered on her face.

"Actually, I think you started one this very afternoon with Eric," Samantha said.

"What? Really?"

"Well, it sure sounds like it to me. Think about it. You took control today and left him at home to do the dishes while you went out shopping and to have dinner, without him, at one of your favorite restaurants," Samantha said.

Julia smiled broadly and took a sip of wine, entirely pleased with herself for putting Eric in his place that afternoon.

"Let's talk about the type of FLM I think you want, the type you need to move Eric forward, where you need him to be to realize all your goals," Samantha said.

"Okay," Julia said, nodding.

"Alight then," Samantha said crisply. "See, a FLM can take a lot of different forms. The female leads in all of them, of course, properly so I might add, but you can have where she leads just a little to where she takes control of virtually everything."

"Everything?"

"You can do whatever you want with Eric and your FLM Julia. Only, the more control you take over Eric, the more... options you'll have," Samantha said.

"But what did you mean by 'everything'," Julia asked. "I want to know what other women are doing to their husbands."

"In some of the more dramatic FLMs there can be a strong dominant and submissive relationship being acted out, BDSM, humiliation, feminization, all kinds of things," Samantha said.

Julia looked astonished. "Really?!"

"I've even heard stories where the man voluntarily agrees to become his wife's slave. He serves her on his knees, catering to her every whim, her every fantasy," Samantha whispered.

Julia had a sudden image of Eric on his knees, bending down to kiss her feet as she stood over him. A self-satisfying smirk spread across her face as a pleasing ache began growing between her thighs.

"Of course, where you decide to take it is your choice," Samantha said. "If you do a little research you'll find the five food groups talked about, don't let it confuse you, think of them as areas you can control. By the way, they call them FLRs too, 'Female Lead Relationships', same thing really. Anyway, the more you control, the more likely you'll be able to get Eric to do whatever it is you want. If you control everything, he won't have much choice, other than leaving you, and that's often the last thing the male in a FLM wants to do."

Julia sat there transfixed. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Female Lead Marriage. It sounded so potent and empowering, even thrilling. It opened up so many possibilities, even fantasies. Her mind was reeling with questions. Could she really do this? Take control of Eric's life? Had she already started a FLM, without even realizing it? Had it been all those conversations with Samantha over all those months that had brought her here? Was she changing? Did she really want this? The power was so intoxicating. Eric, on his knees, naked--

"You okay, Julia?" Samantha asked.

"What? Oh... I'm sorry," Julia said. "It's a lot to think about. I have so many questions. I'm not sure what to do next," Julia said.

"Well, you already have complete control over the finances. That's an important one," Samantha said. "If I might offer a suggestion, the next item in the five food groups you might consider taking over is one that should be easy for you." A mischievous grin took over Samantha's face. "Sex. You take complete control of Eric's sex life."

Julia smiled broadly, placed both elbows on the table, and cradled her chin in her palms. Long shiny hair flowed around her long red nails, framing her soft face and running down her arms as the swell of her breasts rose high on her chest. She leaned towards Samantha over the table, a vision of feminine beauty. "I think I can manage the bedroom for an evening of love making easily enough but taking complete control of his sex life? Any suggestions on what to do there exactly?"

Samantha made a tiny shrug. "I don't pretend to be an expert in the male libido," she whispered with a smirk. "But, it's about control. You might try wearing your sexist lingerie. Tease him. Make him desperate to have you. Make him beg you for attention. Then deny him the pleasure he wants. Tease and denial. Be a flirt. If he has any kinks, use them against him. Get him addicted to your body. Then cut off the sex unless he does what you want." Samantha's face had hardened to an almost sadistic glee. "He's only a man. You're a beautiful, attractive womon. If you want Eric on his knees, put him there, make it the only way he's allowed to touch you. He doesn't stand a chance if you turn your mind to it, Julia."

Julia imagined Eric on his knees in front of her, his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, while servicing her sex with his lips and tongue. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The pleasing ache between her legs had intensified. She pressed her thighs tightly together under her skirt, shifting around uncomfortably in her chair as the tension built and her panties dampened.

Samantha was staring at her sipping her wine, her eyes filled with mirth.

Julia tried calming herself, bitting her lip just enough to be uncomfortable. She smoothed her hair down with both hands, slowly, making sure to keep her nails from getting tangled. "You're a naughty girl, Samantha," she said.

"I can be," she said with a lilt in her voice, fluttering her eyes over her wine glass. Samantha giggled.

Julia chuckled in reply, uncertain if Samantha was flirting with her or not. She didn't want to know. She decided to change the topic instead. Julia took a deep breath and released it, like she was letting the air out of the conversation.

"How about we come full circle and talk about my promotion again, this bridge to the future they're talking about," Julia said with a beaming smile.

"Sure, we can do that. I really do think you should take the offer," Samantha said.

Samantha then proceeded to give Julia more details about the new organizational structure and where she'd fit in. Julia listened as best she could but the entire time she kept thinking about Eric and what it might be like to have a true FLM with her in control of everything in their marriage.

As Samantha regaled her with details about the new, mostly female, management team, Julia kept envisioning Eric at her feet, placing soft kisses on them or between her legs pleasuring her to new heights of passion.

As Samantha expounded on the compensation package, the benefits, the perks, Julia began wondering what Eric might look like with small breasts, cradling a baby girl to his naked chest, suckling her with large, womanly teats. There was something perversely fascinating about the idea and deeply disturbing at the same time.

By the time dinner was over, Julia had a much better understanding of the reorganization and where she'd fit in if she took the promotion. She wanted to grab the opportunity and run with it. But to have everything she wanted meant bending Eric totally to her will. If she could do it, it would change both their lives forever but as much as she wanted to embrace it doubts still lingered in her.

Julia gave Samantha a hug as they parted ways and thanked her for the enlightening dinner. Walking back to her car, her stilettos echoing on the pavement, still unsure of which path to follow, she decided she owed it to herself to at least explore alternatives. Samantha would call it, 'breaking the patriarchal chains and embracing the inner womyn' or some such. Julia shrugged her shoulders. Maybe she was right.

CHAPTER FIVE
Reward for Eric

Eric sat at their small kitchen table unfocused and bleary eyed, lost in his own meandering thoughts and the predicament Julia had put him in, still struggling with the fact that she could cut him off financially, that he was completely dependent on her for money and everything that came with it.

He stared at the empty sink with a sense of shame and humiliation. It had never occurred to him, in all the months that he'd been unemployed, that she'd be capable of using finances like a weapon, that she'd be capable of blackmailing him into doing things she wanted like forcing him to do the dishes. It made him feel like he was some type of indentured servant. It gave new form to the expression 'the power of the purse'. It was a a woman's purse, Julia's purse. What type of man was he to become dependent on the purse his wife carried around in her pretty little hands and brightly polished nails?

Eric cradled his chin in his palms, elbows on the small dinette, hunching over the table like some morose, lost soul. It was all very sobering, even frightening. With her newly discovered power over him, what might she do next? How vulnerable was he? What were her limits? Where would she take this?

He berated himself for being so stupid to have let it happen, to have put himself in the position he was in. Maybe he had spent too much time gaming, letting the world pass him by while he spent all his time in electronic illusions and fantasies. The gaming had consumed too much of his time, had become another form of drug that competed with too many things in real life. He should have been aggressively looking for another job, looking for anything to provide an income into their home.

Eric's expression changed to a weary scowl as self-contempt began to sink in ever deeper. Maybe that was it. Maybe he was being punished for not being a good provider. Maybe this was deeper than Julia being unkind and demanding. Maybe the dynamic was more visceral, something at the core of being a human animal, a part of the natural order of things that transcended culture and society. Maybe a strong female simply resented being attached to a weak male that wasn't providing for her. Maybe her animosity was a natural, even appropriate response to a male that was failing her. Was that it?! If that was true, maybe, in a small way, he deserved what was happening to him.

Eric sat up and rubbed his face with his hands, trying to relieve some of the weariness and tension. He had to find a job, it was that simple, or at the very least, find something worthwhile to do that Julia could accept as valuable. Even if the economy was difficult, even if women did seem to be getting preferential treatment these days, regardless the obstacles, he had to find accomplishments outside of playing games on his computer. He cradled his chin again, hoping inspiration would find him, hoping a solution would readily present itself. It didn't.

In the short term, maybe it made sense not to fight her so much. Swallow his pride. Help by keeping the apartment clean like she wanted. It was something she was asking for, demanding really he reminded himself, and it was, at least, something useful. Besides, he had agreed to three months of doing all the household cleaning, a punishment for playing games during the day.

"Punishment." Eric spat the word out with distaste. His cheeks inflamed with embarrassment recalling the forceful and commanding way Julia had forced him to accept it. Worse, adding considerably to his confusion and frustration, a part of him was actually excited at how she had behaved! It made his stomach churn at the thought of it but there was something exciting about a strong, demanding, beautiful woman that he couldn't quite shake. He felt a brief twitch in his pants as he recalled his hot, sexy wife yelling at him and smiling as he knuckled under to her threats. It was mortifying. He shook his head trying to forget it and gave a hard, angry press to his penis with a clenched fist trying to subdue it.

Eric pushed away from the table hoping to escape his thoughts. He took a few steps across the kitchen and retrieved a dust cloth from a cabinet. He then walked into the living room, and began dusting, trying to set his mind to the task. He wanted to finish before Julia got home. The idea of her standing over his shoulder as he cleaned the apartment was unsettling. It was better to do it while she was out. He kept himself moving, trying his best to do a good job. He didn't want to give Julia an opportunity to complain about the quality of his work.

It took some time to properly dust the living room and dinning room. He'd left their sculpture for last since it seemed to be a magnet for dust. By the time he was almost finished with it he heard a chirp from his phone. It was another text message, like others that hour, begging him to get on the game and play. They'd all been from people in his guild, in the game. He'd been ignoring them. This last one was from his friend Lucas.

"Eric we really need you in-game... raid night tonight... where ya been all day?" Lucas had sent.

Eric stared at his phone and his heart dropped. What was he going to tell Lucas? They'd made a pact a long time ago to not ignore each other's text messages. It was a respect thing. He couldn't just ignore Lucas. But how could he tell his best friend, the guy he had been playing computer games with since college, the guy that had been his best man, that he was suddenly afraid of his wife and what she might do to him if she found him playing the game when she got home?

A second message from Lucas quickly followed, "What do you want me to tell the guild buddy?"

Eric thought for a bit, his phone in one hand, a dust cloth in the other. The last thing he wanted was for Lucas to know the truth about what Julia was doing to him. He didn't want to lie to his best friend either.

"Tell them I'm having problems with my computer," Eric finally messaged back, then he added an emoji of a crying face and sent that too.

It was a half-truth at best but not entirely a lie. He was having more of a possible, future, problem with his computer. It was twisted logic but if Julia did resort to taking the power cord, as threatened, the machine would be unusable until she decided to give it back. Even though the machine was fine at the moment, it felt risky to play since she hadn't told him it was okay to play that night. After the big fight, it was better to be safe than sorry. So, he reasoned, it was fair to claim he was having 'problems' with his computer.

Lucas replied, "Sorry to hear... hope you get it fixed soon... the guild will be disappointed."

Eric put down his phone and stared at the text. He felt suddenly... lost. Uneasy. Lucas and the guild were just on the other side of his computer screen. It was like a magic window to a better place. He was someone important there, a 'big man'. The guild needed him for raiding, questing, adventuring. He wanted the action of the game, needed the action of the game. Maybe he could just...

No. There was just no telling what Julia might do. Take the power cord? Cancel his subscription to the game altogether? Explaining something like that to Lucas would be humiliating beyond belief, "sorry, my wife has me by the financial balls and decided to cut them off."

No. That would be unbearable. Lucas would never understand something like that, he was a fairly traditional guy.

Eric returned to his cleaning, the yearning to jump into the game growing while the disorienting feelings of being lost and alone continued to tug on his mind like a heavy weight threatening to drown him. In real life, he didn't feel important at all. He wasn't a 'big man'. He didn't feel like he was much of anything really. Dust cloth in hand, he began to wonder if he was experiencing some of the same emotions a housewife from the 1950s or 1960s had struggled with.

After he finished all the dusting, he sat down in front of his computer and simply regarded it, almost with a sense of reverence. He ran his fingers lightly across the top of the keyboard. What incredible machines computers were. He wanted so badly to turn it on and jump into the game. Instead, he sat there struggling with feelings of abandonment and sadness, lost in an ocean of self-pity, as the game called to him like a drug called to its user, beckoning his indulgence. Fear over what Julia might do was the only thing keeping him from playing.

Eric grabbed his battered game guide and leafed through it, taking care to not further damage the cover that Julia and torn off earlier. A faint smile crossed his lips recalling all the hours he spent combing through it's secrets and the fun that had come from it.

He was still paging through the guide when he heard the front door open and the distinct sound of Julia's stilettos tapping on the tiles of the entryway. He quickly put the book down. He could feel his heart beating harder, faster. Pushing away from his computer, he walked out to greet her. He only hoped she was in a good mood as he spotted her at the door.

Walking into the apartment, Julia only glanced at Eric, barely acknowledging his presence. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, frozen at the doors to the bedrooms in the back of the apartment, trepidation clearly etched into his face. She walked slowly towards the kitchen, looking around, appraising the apartment as she moved. A subtle grin formed and she nodded with approval as she noted that Eric had been cleaning.

He moved slowly towards her as she made her way across the kitchen to inspect the sink. She peered in and looked to Eric with a satisfied smirk, pleased that the sink was empty, that he had done as he was told. It was such a thrill to give him orders and to later inspect his work to make certain it was done to her satisfaction. If she pushed him fully into a female lead marriage, maybe these feelings could be hers forever.

Eric stood before her looking timid, almost afraid of her, clearly hoping for approval. It made sense, Julia reasoned, maybe he was already starting to accept that she he begun to lead their marriage. Maybe he was a natural submissive at heart who'd been waiting for a dominant woman all along. Julia rolled the words over in her mind,'female lead marriage'. It excited her, made her feel powerful and as she looked upon her nervous, apprehensive husband it seemed perfectly proper and appropriate. Eric certainly wasn't fit to lead but she was, at home and at the office.

So why not explore a FLM? Why not push him towards it? She could change her mind later, if she didn't like it, right? But before she formally pressured him into accepting a FLM, she wanted more power over him, more authority over him. Just like Samantha had suggested, she was going to take over Eric's sex life, totally, then she'd spring her trap.

Most men lusted for her. If she was honest with herself, she'd been using sex to get what she wanted ever since high school. She used it to manipulate men in the business world all the time. Eric was no different. Sex had always been her domain in their marriage. She'd given him most of what he'd wanted in the past, openly shared her sexuality with him. That would change now. She was going to take it to the next level, using her sexuality as a weapon against him. Sharing was done. She was going to take over. He'd have a hard time adjusting. At the very least, it promised to be naughty fun for her.

Julia smiled. "Thanks for doing the dishes, love," Julia said.

Eric nodded his head and sighed in relief that she wasn't angry anymore. "Of course, you... were right about that," he said with a slight quaver in his voice. "I straightened up and did the dusting too."

Julia took a couple of slow steps closer to him. "I noticed," she said pleasantly.

Eric grinned uneasily as Julia reached out and put her hand on his shoulder, tracing one of her long red talons against the side of his neck suggestively while continuing to smile. He was distraught by the events of the day and further unbalanced by her apparent shift in demeanor. He couldn't help but like this kinder, gentler, sexier version of Julia though.

She took another step closer to him, her face mere inches away, her smoky eyes looking directly into his, her red lips beckoning to him. "Good job, on the apartment," she said softly. He could feel the heat of her breath. The floral fragrance of her perfume filled the air.

Eric faintly nodded, acknowledging the compliment, as he took in the image of his beautiful wife. Her long lovely hair flowed over her soft shoulders. He could feel the nearness of her, the warmth of her body. The neckline of her blouse revealed the swell of her lovely breasts, the cleavage deepening and receding, over and over, as she moved her arm on his shoulder, teasing his neck with her nails. Julia's curvaceous, soft, feminine body virtually demanded attention. It forced his body to respond, his need for her deepening by the moment.

"I hope you understand why I was so upset earlier," Julia said with a soft, sultry tone.

Eric opened his mouth but was lost for words, his eyes fixed on his wife's breasts instead as they moved under her silk blouse.

Julia had a lithe, curvy, fit body, her breasts large for her lovely frame. Eric wanted desperately to hold them in his hands to feel their contours, their softness, the weight of them. She moved even closer and lightly pressed her breasts into him, moving them against him ever so slightly, teasing him with them as she continued to rub the side of his neck, occasionally tickling his earlobe or playfully tugging at his hair.

She leaned close to his ear to whisper. "There are certain things I'm going to have to do to make sure our family gets back on track. If that means punishing you at times... then I will. I hope you can understand that."

Eric's brow wrinkled. As much as he hated her taking control like she was, as he'd reasoned earlier, maybe he partially deserved what she was doing, on some level at least. Still, she could be a little more reasonable, a little kinder. He resolved to ask for better treatment, to demand it.

"Maybe I--"

"Shh," Julia said as she poked her pretty finger against his mouth silencing him. "Let's not talk about it right now," She whispered. "Besides, there's better things you can be doing with your mouth than talk."

Julia took a step back as her right hand gently cupped under her left breast. Her nipples had swollen, pushing forward, clearly visible under her blouse. Her hand reached up slowly and she began to massage her breast, tugging, pinching at her nipple through her blouse and bra. She let out a soft gasp of pleasure as she pressed her thighs tightly together and squeezed them, swaying her curvaceous hips and ass at the same time in one ravishing expression.

Eric reached out towards her, mesmerized with her. His erection straining for release in his pants.

Julia smacked his hand back with a wicked grin, well aware of what her body was doing to him, reveling in her power over him. "Not yet naughty boy," she said confidently, her hands shifting to her hips. "I plan on rewarding you for... Let's say for cleaning the apartment," she suggested. "But you don't get to touch me unless I tell you to. You got that?"

Eric nodded his agreement, spellbound by Julia's body, willing to agree to almost anything at that moment. He was utterly amazed by her raw beauty and sexuality. It was one thing to be attractive and alluring. It was another to use it as boldly, audaciously and brazenly as Julia did. She had no reservations about her sexuality, she gloried in it.

Julia assumed a relaxed, suggestive pose, kinking out her right hip as her hand dropped to it, her other hand naturally falling to her left thigh, her long nails wrapping around her skirt as her hands rested on her body. It looked like a modeling pose, it probably was. "So, you think you deserve a reward?" Julia asked.

"Please, Juls. Yes," Eric said nodding his head. "I'd like a reward."

Julia bit her lower lip seductively then tugged at her breast again as she dropped her head back. Her long hair danced across the small of her back as she sighed. Slowly, she brought her head back up, then leaned toward Eric. She leveled her gaze at him, peering directly into Eric's eyes with a piercing, smoldering gaze.

"You want me, Eric?" she asked softly.

"Yes," he whispered.

"Beg me then, Eric," she demanded.

"What?"

"Beg me, Eric!" she demanded more forcefully as her hands and nails played over her chest.

Eric was rock hard. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew she was manipulating him, taking even more control. He knew he should be walking away from her, but at that moment, his mind was clouded by raw sexual need. He just didn't care.

"Please, Juls?"

"Beg me, Eric!" she demanded again, her voice more shrill.

"I beg you, Juls. Please, I want you. Please let me touch you."

Julia smiled with satisfaction. It was another victory, making him beg to touch her. "Say it again!"

"I beg you, please let me touch you, Julia," he said as he tried to bury his shame for letting her control him so easily.

Julia reached under her skirt, her hands running up her thighs, and she tugged at her panties. Her body wriggled a bit as she pulled them down, below her skirt. She dropped them and they landed around her feet, between her high heels. Stepping out of them, she picked them up and held them directly in front of Eric's face.

Eric looked at her panties, inches from his nose, black-lace, bikini panties. There was a tiny red bow on the front. They were soaked in the crotch from Julia's wet pussy.

"Open your mouth Eric," Julia said with a firm voice.

Eric moved his head, to look around her sodden panties. Her eyes were fixed, determined. He couldn't believe what she was asking him to do.

"I said, open your mouth, Eric!" Julia demanded.

Eric did as he was told, slowly, hoping for a reprieve.

Then, with a jabbing motion, Julia thrust her panties into his mouth, poking the crotch filled with her juices as deep as she could with her nails until Eric began to gag.

"Close your mouth now, Eric," she commanded. "And don't you dare let go," she added.

He closed his lips around her panties leaving half of the delicate garment dangling from his mouth. A bitter taste from her secretions began mixing with his saliva, some of it passing down his throat. He struggled to keep from gagging.

"Don't you let go until I tell you to. I want you to SUCK on them, Eric" she said. Julia stepped next to him, looking directly into his eyes again with her smoky caldrons, a cruel expression formed on her lips as she leaned her breasts into him. "If you ever want to touch me again you keep sucking my lady juice out of those panties, Eric," she said. "There's a lot more where that came from too."

Eric felt mortified, being forced to suck on his wife's pussy soaked panties, the taste getting worse by the moment. Did he really deserve this for failing to provide? What would she do if he refused? Cut off sex all-together? Cut him off financially? He fought back tears that started to well up in his eyes from the shame of it. But despite the pain from what she was doing to him, some part of him must still be excited by the game she was playing -- his cock was rock hard. That made it all so much worse. What was happening to him?

Julia grabbed the part of her panties dangling from Eric's lips with her thumb and index finger. Her tongue swept across her teeth, lightly licking the inside of her lips. "I hope you're enjoying the taste of my panties, Eric," she sneered. "Don't let go now or you'll be in big trouble." She pulled on the lace garment and began leading him to their bedroom, like it was a short leash attached to his mouth. Eric followed behind awkwardly, stumbling to keep pace, as her skirt and ass swayed under her stilettos on the way to their bed.

Reaching the foot of the bed, Julia turned Eric around, and put his back to it. She stood there enjoying his predicament, considering what to do to him next, curling a strand of her hair around a finger and teasing it with her nails as she smiled.

"Take off your cloths, Eric. Every stitch," Julia said.

Eric looked confused and flustered, hoping for something more normal with his beautiful wife.

"Now, Eric. Strip!" She demanded. "And keep the panties in your mouth for now. They're doing a nice job keeping you from talking back to me."

Eric slowly, nervously removed his clothing. Watching his every move, Julia stood there fully dressed, still playing with her hair, as he removed one item after another and dropped them at his feet. Finally, he stood there naked in front of her with a larger erection than Julia ever remembered, his face red from embarrassment.

Without warning, Julia shoved him. Eric toppled back, with a grunt, onto the edge of the bed. He raised up on his elbows, her panties still in his mouth.

Julia held out her hand. "Panties," she said.
Eric took them from his mouth and placed them in her open hand, relieved to finally be rid of them, the stale aftertaste making him grimace. She tossed the panties over her shoulder without a glance as she stood over her naked husband.

Julia looked down at Eric with a sense of pity and contempt, her feelings conflicted by how cruel she could be, but at the same time, she was reveling in her new station over him, in the clear and utter contrast that was forming between them. She stood there, hands on hips, legs slightly spread, her skirt taught over her thighs, in a dominant posture over a man that had striped himself naked on her command. The sense of power over him was so exhilarating, like a drug, she wanted more.

"Undo the zips on my shoes, Eric."

Eric looked up to his fully clothed wife and the sneer on her pretty face feeling diminished and vulnerable, the enjoyment in her expression, at his predicament, was confusing and deeply unsettling. It was probably easier not to fight her right now, easier to go along, and hope she didn't take things too far. After-all, wasn't this supposed to be a reward? He got off the bed and knelt down in front of her. Julia put her right foot forward and in the small movement he was certain he could smell her arousal, stirred from under her skirt.

"Now, Eric! And stop being so slow when I tell you to do things."

His fingers were trembling slightly as he reached down to the black dress sandal adorning Julia's lovely foot. The shoe looked new, sexy, a dozen thin straps wrapping around her foot with a four inch tall stiletto under her heel and a golden zipper in the back. Her pretty toes poked out of the front, the pedicure as flawless as the rest of her, each nail trimmed to perfection and polished the same bright red as the tips of her fingers. Carefully, he reached to the back of the heel, admiring the smooth slope of her ankle and the high feminine arch of her foot as he did so, and pulled the zipper down, freeing her from the shoe.

Julia shifted her weight and presented her other shoe to him wordlessly. The smell of her arousal wafted to him again, from under her skirt, causing his nostrils to flare and his own arousal to spike even higher. He lapsed into a daze. In the deep recesses of his mind, the part that was more animal than man, he wanted to throw her down and plunge into every crevice of her. But, she was in command here, she had the power, not him. She tapped him in the knee, demanding attention. He shook his head to clear it. Focusing back to his task, he reached forward with both hands, sliding his fingers over the soft leather of her shoe with one hand, as he reached for the zipper, and caressing her slender stiletto with the other. He pulled down the zipper with a deliberate slowness, as he admired her from the floor.

"Stand up, Eric."

He did as he was told, standing up in front of her. Still wearing her heels, she was taller than he was in his bare feet. She closed the inches between them and walked him back until his legs rested against the foot of the bed. Julia smiled and shoved him backwards again, giggling as he fell, his cock rocking back-and-forth as he bounced on the bed.

Julia took off her heels and tossed them to the side. She kept her eyes focused on Eric, a mischievous grin twisting across her face as she studied him on the bed. It made Eric uneasy. It was like she was planning to do something wicked while she focused on her prey, hunger building in her as she anticipated the meal.

"Where do you keep those handcuffs you bought?" Julia asked.

"You... hate those," Eric said.

"No. I hated that you wanted to put them on me," Julia said. "Where are they?"

Eric motioned to his nightstand next to the bed. "Bottom drawer," he said faintly.

Julia walked over and fumbled around in Eric's nightstand until she found the handcuffs and the key that went with them. She opened both cuffs and tossed them to Eric, while holding onto the key. The handcuffs landed next to him on the bed.

"Cuff yourself."

"You can't be serious, Juls," Eric said with a touch of paranoia beginning to set in.

"Do I need to put my panties back in your mouth to keep you quiet?" she asked. "If you want to have sex with me, I expect you to do as your told. Now put the cuffs on or get out of the bedroom, Eric."

Eric looked at his determined wife, her arms crossed under her breasts, waiting for him to comply. He knew he had to. He grabbed the handcuffs off the bed, stared at his wrists for a few moments, then snapped the first cuff closed on his right wrist. His heart started racing as he approached his left wrist with the second cuff, readying himself to slam it shut--

"Stop!" Julia shouted. She kneeled on the bed next to him, pulled his arms behind his back, and closed the second cuff on his other wrist before Eric even realized what she was doing. She jumped off the bed and positioned herself in front of her now cuffed husband. Smiling, she held the key to the cuffs in front of his face and tossed it behind her. "Now, we're going to have some fun, Eric," she said, biting her lower lip seductively.

"Work your way up the bed now. Get your head up by the pillows."

Eric, unceremoniously, dropped back and squirmed his way up the bed with his cuffed arms underneath him. Julia giggled as his cock flopped around from his efforts. When he finally got his head to the pillows, Julia jumped onto the bed. She carefully balanced herself, one foot just below his chest, the other on the bed, as she looked down on him with a twisted smile. It was too late for him to run away now. Julia dropped down, on top of Eric, straddling his hips, pulling her skirt up to her waist in the process. He struggled underneath her. She smiled. He was her's to do with as she pleased, to arouse, to tease, to have her way with.

Julia stared at his flat, male chest. It was only a vestige of what it might be. She imagined, in detail, small breasts on him with large womanly nipples. She reached out tentatively towards his chest and stopped. Was she really ready to shape his body to her will? Literally feminize him?! It was a giddy thought. Everything she'd ever been taught, until only recently, said 'no'. But, was it really that radical of an idea to put breasts on him? Fully functional, nurturing, lactating, female breasts? What was gender in the twenty-first century anymore anyway? Wasn't masculinity more of an outdated construct? Something ready for the ash-heap of history? What about equality? Wasn't that the higher ideal? She took her hands, fanned out her fingers, and reached out again towards his chest. This time, Julia began rubbing her palms over his nipples, giving his chest a massage as she imagined them growing under her fingers. He would look so different with boobs, even small ones.

She had a sudden urge to take him, to use him, to be the aggressor like so many men had done to her in the past. She wet her lips in anticipation. Pulling herself forward, sliding over his belly, she slowly lowered her face to his, her hair falling around his head as she got closer. Eric saw her looming over him, her face and hair obscuring the rest of the room, her breath moist and hot. Then it happened, she kissed him, deeply, wantonly, her tongue plunging ardently as she crushed her lips into his, over and over again, pushing, scrapping, mashing. Eric struggled under her, his passion building with the ferocity of the kiss and her wriggling body as she bleed ever closer into something more violent than sexual. Finally, she stopped, bitting at his lower lip as she pulled away, claiming him, leaving Eric stunned at the fury of the attack. He licked at his bruised lip, at the tiny drop of blood she had left there, suddenly lost in a swirl of passion and ambivalence.

Still sitting astride him, Julia unbuttoned her blouse and let it fall open, revealing the black-lace bra cupping her breasts. She smiled at Eric as her hand reached inside her blouse and began stroking the underside of the cups, her fingers depressing her breasts enough to lift them with each pass. She closed her eyes and moaned softly as she continued her erotic massage, stroking and clutching at her breasts through black-lace, lost in her own world, luxuriating in her femininity. As she came out of her sweet reverie, still clutching one of her breasts, a smile gracing her face, she slowly slid her free hand to Eric's chest. She sat there like that for a short time, lost in a trance, wishing it were already done, wishing he already had breasts and that he loved them as much as she loved her own at that very moment. Maybe he could see the wisdom of it, maybe it would be easier than she'd thought, maybe she could convince him to want his own breasts.

Julia tossed her hair over her back and smiled at Eric as she thrust her boobs out from behind her blouse and shook them at him, teased him with them. "You want to see them?" she asked rhetorically.

Eric only nodded, still reeling from everything that had happened.

"Wanna see a little trick?" she asked smiling.

He nodded again.

Julia slid her left bra strap over her shoulder where it disappeared under the short sleeve of her blouse. She playfully pouted at Eric like she'd lost something as she reached into the sleeve with her fingers and fished it out, pulling it past her elbow, then pulling her elbow back while pulling the strap forward past her hand, freeing her arm from the strap completely. She did the same with the other strap, on the other arm. Eric was still trying to puzzle out what she had done, and why, when she suddenly pulled the bra forward and her ample breasts spilled free of the cups. In another few moments she had rotated the bra around and had undone the hooks binding it to her, her breasts bouncing free as she tossed the bra behind her. She jiggled them at Eric with a beaming smile. He'd never seen her do that before, had never seen any woman do that before, removing a bra while still wearing her blouse. He didn't realize such a thing was even possible. It was like she had shared some secret female knowledge with him that men normally weren't privy to for some reason.

Her breasts now poking out from her blouse, she lowered them slowly to Eric's chest, aligning her nipples to his nipples, until they touched. She pressed her breasts just slightly into him. The soft, warm touch of her breasts caused Eric's cock to twitch in response. She dangled them like that, little more than nipples to nipples, giggling.

Eric looked down, between their bodies, and saw lovely, deep, soft, feminine cleavage. From the way she held herself above him, it almost looked like they were joined by her boobs, almost like they shared them. She giggled again as she looked at her boobs between them. Then she suddenly dropped back and started licking his tiny nipples. First one, then the other. It felt strange to Eric, not erotic really, just strange. She'd never shown an interest in his chest before, not at all, never.

"You're so totally flat, Eric," she said she said quietly, almost to herself. "There's just nothing here at all."

Eric nodded subtly, confused by her observation of the obvious. Of course, he was flat, he was a man.

"I can hardly even find a nipple," she quipped, smirking at him. She then proceeded to try to pinch one of his tiny buds between the tips of the nails on her thumb and forefinger. She bit her lower lip as she brought the tips together causing Eric to suddenly jerk back as she pinched his vestigial nub. She giggled softly at his discomfort.

Eric wrinkled his forehead, pulling at the handcuffs that kept him from grabbing at her.

"It's too bad men don't have nipples more like women," Julia said. "You'd love the delicious feeling of having your nipples sucked and played with."

"I envy you," he said sarcastically.

"Really!?" she said excitedly, suddenly grinning.

"No. Of course, not," he replied, feeling oddly humiliated. It just wasn't something a man thought about, didn't she get that? He found her breasts deeply erotic and was wholly gratified that she had them and enjoyed them but it wasn't something a man actually envied or wanted for himself.

"You mean you never wondered what it might be like to have boobs?" she asked sweetly. "Not even once?"

"No!" he exclaimed and shook his head. "Normal men don't think about that," he added.

Julia pursed her lips as she looked at him, a bit disappointed. Of course, she hadn't expected him to say 'yes' but she had hoped that maybe he'd harbored some secret fetish or had, at least, wondered about it. She sighed. It would have made things so much easier if he'd been a secret transvestite with a boob fetish or something.

Of course, she might still force him to do it, even if he didn't want to. Julia's eyes narrowed, the playfulness leaving, they changed to something harder. She was done toying with him for now. Julia rolled the words over in her mind again,'female lead marriage'. She needed more power over him. Eventually, in time, she planned on taking complete control of his sex life. He'd be completely dependent on her if he ever wanted to cum again. If he didn't like where she'd lead them he could leave. It was that simple.

Julia stood up carefully on the bed, rocking a bit as she straightened out her legs, both breasts swinging wildly as she gained her balance. She towered over Eric then, breasts jutting out of her blouse, her legs looking like pillars under her skirt which had dropped back into position around her thighs. She took short little steps, positioning herself directly over Eric's head.

From Eric's position on the bed, she looked almost like a giantess standing over him. He was staring straight up her skirt to her naked womanhood. The view was magnificent. Julia's legs were enchanting, perfectly smooth with slim ankles and well defined calves leading to perfectly tapered thighs. At the apex, Julia's sweet pussy beckoned, the smooth hairless lips of her womanhood, the naked cleft of her sex, calling out to him demanding his attention and adulation. Eric was desperate to touch her, desperate to join with her, his cock ached with need for her, every beat of his heart making him throb with increasing desire for her.

"Poor baby, you're going to need to earn the privilege to fuck me tonight," she said.

"W... What?!" Eric said confused. She'd never played a game like this before in the bedroom.

Julia slowly nodded and smiled. "You need to EARN the privilege, Eric." She said it more slowly the second time, as if she were speaking to a child.

Eric appeared stupefied at first, as if his mind didn't want to grasp what she was telling him. Julia stood there, looking down at him, hands on her hips, waiting for him to catch up with her. "What do you want me to do?" Eric finally asked.

Julia smiled, this really was easier than she thought it might be, every concession bringing him closer to being fully under her control. Chances were, if he were a stronger man, none of this would be happening to him, Julia reminded herself.

"Well, I was thinking about our sex life the other day, Eric." Julia inched her skirt up her legs as she spoke. "And I realized, in all the years we've been together, you've never brought me off orally even once," she said as she spread her thighs slightly apart to give him a better view of her. "I think that needs to change, Eric."

Eric's expression changed to revulsion, "But... I-"

"I know," Julia started, "you don't like... oral. You don't like the smell. You don't like the taste. But I don't care about your excuses anymore. You're long overdue in learning how to satisfy a woman with your tongue. So, you're going to take some lessons tonight on how to focus on the woman's needs, on my needs."

As Eric considered how to respond to Julia's proclamation she unexpectedly sat down on his face and shoved the lips of her pussy at his mouth, demanding service, clasping his cheeks between her thighs, ending any objections from him. He struggled under her, pinned down and handcuffed, at the mercy of his wife.

She held him there directing him, teaching him, berating him for his lack of skill, as he desperately tongued her crevice. Her pussy creamed on his face, soaking him in a heady womanly reek. Julia didn't spare him in the least as she gyrated on his face, forcing him to submit to her, relishing in the power her pussy had over him. After a long number of minutes of effort and struggle Julia finally came, rocking herself violently on his face as the waves of pleasure hit her. Sweating, exhausted, she finally released her grip on Eric's head and laid back on him to rest.

Eric's tongue and mouth ached terribly. His entire face smelled like Julia, he could smell nothing else. He both loved and hated what she'd just done to him. She'd used him, debased him, he wanted to run but also wanted more, was desperate for more of her sweet pussy. Maybe it was a stupid and obvious thing to consider but she was just so utterly and completely female. It was a thought, a feeling, that resonated deep in his being. Her mere presence was invigorating. And at that moment, he wanted her touch more than anything else in the world, his cock was aching for her, desperate for release. He needed to fuck her so bad nothing else mattered.

"Juls?" He tugged futilely again at the handcuffs restraining his arms under him.

She ignored him.

"Juls? Please?"

Julia reached behind her and grabbed his turgid member. It quivered at her touch. She squeezed him hard and giggled. It was obvious how needful he was for her. Releasing him, she jumped off the bed and walked back, into the room, where she bent down to retrieve something off the floor.

"Julia?! Please! I did what you wanted. My dick needs you babe. Please?"

Julia didn't respond.

"I'm so hard it hurts."

Julia returned to the side of the bed smiling, holding the panties she'd put in his mouth earlier in one hand and the key to the handcuffs in the other.

"Unfortunately, your technique is terrible, Eric. You barely got me off, it took like forever, and I think I did most the work at that. So... I'm sorry, but you didn't earn the privilege to cum tonight." Julia put on an insincere pout then flicked his penis to underscore the point.

"What?! Julia?! You can't be serious!" Eric was aghast. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, what his, once sweet, wife was saying to him.

Julia shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe next time you'll do better," she said.

"Julia, please!" Eric pleaded. "Do something for me. Please?"

She shook her head. "I can't. You didn't earn it. Maybe next time this will encourage you to try harder to please your wife first. You really need to learn to lick pussy better or your little dick won't ever get fucked again," she said.

Eric threw his head back and groaned in utter frustration, yanking at the cuffs restraining him. "Let me out then," he demanded. "I'll do it myself! Let me out!"

Julia's face turned deadly serious. "Don't you dare tell me what to do, Eric," she hissed. "You will never bark an order at me ever again. Not you, not any man. Never again!" Her tone and demeanor was so serious it actually frightened Eric. "As far as the cuffs go, if you don't like my little bedroom games then you can forget about ever touching me again! I'm the woman, it's my way or not at all! You got that?"

Eric lay there stunned into silence.

"You got that?!" she repeated.

Eric nodded. "I'm sorry, Juls. I didn't mean to upset you." He looked at his angry wife and felt like he barely knew her anymore. She had changed so much. He wasn't sure what she was capable of.

"Well, you did and I'm afraid you've earned another little punishment, Eric." As she said it, the same thrill she had the first time she used the word pulsed through her. "Nothing to harsh. You can just lay in here until until your little penis wilts," she said, then added, "Still handcuffed so you can't play with yourself. I don't want you touching that thing tonight."

She walked closer to him and lowered her voice. "I want to give you these as a memento of tonight," she said, holding out the panties she'd shoved in his mouth earlier. "I want you to keep them to remind yourself of this night. You might want to wash them first though," she wriggled her nose. "I'd hand them to you but..." Her playful smile returned, then she pulled her panties over his head and rotated them around until the crotch sat over his nose and his eyes were peeping through the leg holes. Julia giggled. He looked absolutely ridiculous and absurd. "Now, if you don't make a fuss, I'll release you after 'Mr. Happy' goes back to sleep."

Eric said nothing.

Julia smiled, spun around, and walked out of the bedroom. She paused to look back at him. He just laid there, on his back, staring at the ceiling, his cock still standing straight up. He looked so beaten already. She'd taken him down so far already. He looked so weak and pathetic all of a sudden. Did a man like that even deserve to fuck her? Ever? She shook her head. Maybe she could just have his cock caged or maybe they could make him impotent when they put boobs on him. Either way, handcuffed, with a pair of panties over his head, he looked like a man that deserved to be dominated by a woman. Julia shrugged and walked away.

She stopped in the dinning room, suddenly unsure of why she was on the verge of losing a promotion because of Eric. Samantha was right, she'd been right all along, about everything. After tonight, Julia was more convinced than ever that she wanted a FLM and Eric would just have to deal with whatever she decided.

Before she lost her nerve, Julia fetched her laptop from work. She set it up in the dinning room, connected it to the office, and quickly wrote an email to human resources.

Samantha,

I want to thank you personally for all the information and assistance you've recently provided. You've been very helpful.

After due consideration I've decided to accept the promotion. I'm excited by my new leadership position and all it entails. I'm really looking forward to crossing the 'bridge to the future'.

Sincerely,
Julia Grant

She paused to look it over, staring intently at the words on the screen. She'd signed it with her maiden name, not the hyphenated 'Grant-Cook' just 'Grant'. She'd just done it, didn't even think about it. It just seemed natural and right.

It was funny how life could change so dramatically at times, watershed events that could have life-altering consequences. She pushed away from the table, without sending the email, and walked to the doorway of their bedroom. She looked at Eric laying there, waiting for her to decide to return, his penis at half-staff now.

She stood there for a full minute looking at him, considering her options. If she did send the email accepting the promotion it probably would crush his fragile male ego eventually. Of course, that might make him even more dependent on her, give her even more power over him, make it easier to push him into a FLM. But did she really want to be that unkind to him? If he'd only found another job then none of this would be happening to him. He was as much to blame for his current situation as she was, maybe more she told herself. She had tried to be a good wife to him.

Julia returned to her computer and reread the email. It had the potential to alter both their lives forever, maybe dramatically. She hit the send button. It was done.

She walked back to the doorway of their bedroom and regarded him again. She wondered if it was too soon to buy Eric a training bra.

CHAPTER SIX
A New Day

Eric woke to the pleasing scent of bacon teasing at his nose, beckoning him to wake. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils, flaring them, drawing in the rich smell on the air as the bacon crackled in a skillet nearby.

Eric sat up on the couch with some difficulty, easing himself up, rolling his shoulders to and fro trying to work the stiffness out. He hadn't sleep well on the couch with only a small throw pillow and throw blanket for comfort; but after last night with Julia, after what she'd done to him, he just couldn't bring himself to sleep next to her in the bedroom. Spending the night alone had been the only option. He wasn't alone any longer, though.

Julia was in the kitchen cooking breakfast wearing a black, sweetheart apron with white polka dots that looked like a short, sexy dress from the front with the back open revealing her black, chiffon nightgown underneath. She was minding a skillet on the stove with a spatula while her curvaceous ass swayed almost hypnotically about. Given the large open floor-plan of the apartment, she was less than a dozen feet away, with little more than the back of the couch between them. She was humming some nondescript tune as she cooked, seemingly happy and content. It was a harsh contrast to how Eric felt.

After yesterday and last night, with everything Julia had done to him, his whole world was upside-down. He had no idea where he stood with her. She had manipulated, threatened, and dominated him, practically forcing him to do her bidding, making him feel more like a servant than her spouse. Then, later, she handcuffed him and used him for her sexual pleasure, abandoning his needs entirely, humiliating him so deeply it had carved a mark in his psyche.

When she finally released him from the cuffs, he felt so debased, he slinked out of the bedroom, retreating with her panties still covering his face. He just wanted out of the bedroom. He wasn't even able to look at her when he fled. She said nothing to him as he left the room. Nothing. Like everything that she had done that day was fine, normal, maybe even proper, and his feelings just didn't matter. After throwing himself to the couch, he finally mustered the courage to pull her wretched panties off his face and hurled them back towards the bedroom. She'd left him there, all night, never bothering to check on him or say a word to him. It had taken hours to fall asleep. That she was actually cooking breakfast now seemed more than odd.

He watched her bouncing about in the kitchen, in her cute apron dress and nightgown, humming pleasantly to herself. She appeared genuinely happy as she bounced around the kitchen. He didn't know what to think. That she seemed to be making enough breakfast for both of them reminded him of the old Julia.

He shook his head trying to make sense of the last twenty-four hours. It was impossible to reconcile the loving and nurturing Julia that he had always known from the one he met yesterday. Which one was she today? Was she trying to apologize for the horrors of yesterday? Was this a peace offering?

Watching her work away in the kitchen, swaying around in the short skirt of her nightgown, she looked tantalizing and delicious. In the past, it was an invitation to closing in behind her for a sweet hug and maybe more. But now, he was actually a bit afraid to let her know he was even awake. It was easier to watch her and remember how things used to be, like being in a pleasant dream, just enjoying the moment and not wanting it to end. Still, all dreams, regardless of how pleasant they are or how much we wish the moment could last forever, eventually end.

Julia finished making breakfast, bringing a big bowl of scrambled eggs and a plate heaped with scrumptious breakfast meats to their small dinette table. She then turned her attention to Eric, looking straight at him. His heart almost skipped a beat when she locked eyes on him. Then for some reason, without even thinking about it, he bolted up from the couch and stood straight up to face her, his face flush like a child who got caught doing something naughty. It was a reflex to stand and that bothered him. Quickly, as an after thought, he grabbed the light throw blanket from the couch and pulled it around his waist.

"Good morning, Eric," Julia said cheerily. Her eyes were bright and welcoming. The greeting seemed so genuinely warm and inviting it made him wonder if the previous day had been some terrible nightmare or something. It was only a moment of wishful thinking though. Yesterday had been all too real. His tongue still ached from Julia's demands of service last night and, despite the heavenly scent of breakfast permeating the room, he was fairly certain he could still detect the stale odors of her womanhood on his face.

"Good morning, Eric," she said again, a little louder, wresting him away from the painful memories of the night before.

"Morning," Eric replied hesitantly, quietly.

"See, that wasn't so hard was it?" she asked rhetorically. "Come on. I want to talk. Like we used to," she said encouragingly. "Come on. I've made breakfast for us," she said. "No punishments or anything like that this morning," she added.

Eric swallowed hard at the mention of punishments, the memories from yesterday still far to painful and recent to forget. "Okay," was all he could manage. Eric tucked the blanket, he'd hastily grabbed, around his waist as he moved towards the kitchen. Naked underneath, he felt a bit vulnerable, but at least he was covered.

Julia smiled as she discarded the apron and sat down at one of the two chairs of the dinette while Eric crossed over from the living room and into their kitchen.

"I made your favorites," she said. "Scrambled eggs with cheese, sausages and bacon, and some toast with jelly".

Reaching the table, Eric stood there for a moment, struggling with uncertainty. Julia sat there, looking up at him from the other side of the table, smiling warmly at him. She looked delightful in her little black nightgown. From his angle, he could see deeply into her cleavage, it looked so warm and inviting in there. He wanted nothing more than to bury his head between her breasts, to discover that it had all been some horrible mistake and that his old Julia was back.

"Don't just stand there. Sit," she encouraged, gesturing to the chair in front of him.

Eric knitted his eyebrows briefly with trepidation. Pulling the chair out, he carefully sat down, adjusting the blanket as he lowered himself into the chair. After yesterday, things felt so different between them.

"That's better," she said approvingly. "Eggs? Some bacon?" she asked.

Eric nodded.

Julia smiled and heaped a few scoopfuls of scrambled eggs onto the plate in front of him. She added a small heap of crisp bacon, serving breakfast like she had done countless times before. When she made breakfast for them, she would often prepare a plate for him. It had always made Eric feel special and cared for.

"Thank you," he said.

Julia sat there, still, gathering her thoughts, staring at him with a plastic smile fixed on her face.

Eric began to pick at his food as an awkward silence filled the room. He finished a couple strips of bacon and a few forkfuls of egg while Julia just sat and watched him.

"I wanted to talk this morning," she finally started. "We need to have a very open and honest discussion."

Eric nodded, his hopes rising for an apology for yesterday.

"I want you to feel totally free to say whatever is on your mind. Honestly, no punishments or reprisals or anything like that," Julia said with sincerity. "For now, I want you to forget that yesterday happened. I want you to think of me as the Julia you've always known. Before yesterday. Alright?"

"Okay, Juls," Eric said with optimism.

"See, before we got married, I made a promise to you. I told you I'd be a good wife to you," she said with sincerity, "so today, I'm going to fulfill that promise". Then looking at his plate she asked, "Do you want any more bacon, Honey?"

"Not yet, thanks Juls," Eric said with a smile, hopefulness growing in his heart as he listened to her.

"Okay, then let's get to it." Julia said sitting confidently in her chair. "Simply put, we need to talk about what happened yesterday and what it means for us as a couple going forward."

Eric's face tightened. "Going forward?" he asked skeptically.

"Of course," Julia replied.

"I... I don't want to go anywhere, unless it's back to where we've always been, Juls," he said.

Julia frowned and looked at him skeptically.

"I thought maybe you were going to apologize for yesterday," Eric said quietly.

Julia jerked back slightly, her eyes widened at the suggestion. She looked ready to spit back a retort but waited, pressing a pensive glare at Eric instead. The atmosphere in the room shifted.

"Apologize? What ever gave you that idea?" she asked, a current of tension riding in her voice.

Her sudden change in mood sent a shiver down his spine. Julia's lovely face was infused with a quiet anger, her bright, beautiful eyes had become hard and uncompromising. He wanted to scream at her for everything she had done to him yesterday but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he shook his head nervously, a few small little jerks of denial, and looked down to the table to avert her harsh gaze.

The thrill of power coursed through Julia again. She settled back into her seat, the corners of her mouth curling into a subtle sneer, as she looked at him. The idea that she would apologize to him seemed absurd. It was his disgraceful behavior that had lead to what was happening to him. Had he been a better man, a better husband, they wouldn't be where they were now. He was simply to irresponsible. She was taking over. She decided to let his ridiculous notion of an apology drop, she had invited an open dialog after all. She could be magnanimous.

"Here's the thing," Julia said slowly, "sometimes life can just change. Something big happens and life is just different after that." She paused to see if Eric was taking in her meaning, if he understood that their life together was about to change irrevocably.

He was nervously picking at his food, glancing towards her fleetingly, avoiding direct eye contact.

"Eric! Look at me!" Julia said firmly.

He set his fork down and focused on her. He looked odd sitting there, naked from the waist up, wearing a blanket almost like a skirt. Julia couldn't help but wonder what that flat chest might look like with little boobies large enough, functional enough to suckle an infant.

"Do you understand what I'm getting at?" she asked. "Yesterday was one of those times Eric. Everything is different now between us. I don't think it can ever go back to how it was. You need to give up on that notion entirely."

Eric looked distressed. His lower lip trembled and he quickly looked away from her, then back to her like he wanted to confront her but just couldn't summon the words or the courage. Julia waited, she wanted to know what he was thinking. Finally, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes to calm himself. "I don't understand what you want," he said softly. "What can I do to fix this? Fix us?" He looked back to Julia and shrugged, palms up, looking lost and vulnerable.

Julia stood up and grinned. Eric seemed vulnerable, ripe for picking. Maybe she could accelerate her plans for him. She started walking out of the kitchen. "Follow," she commanded with her back already to him, crooking her finger to encourage him to fall in behind her.

He got up from the dinette, careful to keep the blanket wrapped around his waist, and followed her. She plopped down on the couch, sitting at the far end, then slid her legs up and stretched out over the length of the couch. In her short little nightgown she looked delicious.

She pointed to the far cushion, near her feet. "Sit down," she told him.

Eric hesitated a moment then sat and turned to face her. She was so sexy looking, reclining there. The briefness of the skirt on her nightgown put nearly all of her lovely legs on display. Smooth, trim and fit, her legs were a delight, enough for any man to love, even crave. Her feet were even more a delight to Eric though since years of wearing high heels had graced them with high feminine arches, elongating them to better match her daily footwear. From delicate ankle to her pretty polished toes, her feet were a testament to all the time she spent in power pumps.

Julia was well aware of the admiration he felt for her legs and feet. It was something else that could be used against him, to manipulate him. She scooched down the couch and playfully poked him in the ribs with her foot, trying to engage him and lighten the mood. He needed to see the pleasant side of her too, the playful side. She controlled sex between them. His brain was wired to want her and she intended to grow the want to need, to nurture it, make him more desperate for her, and to grow her power over him for all the things to come. Eric would slowly be molded to his new role in their marriage. Of course, if he knew the full extent of her plans he might run off. Maybe he should. She had no intention of making it easy for him though. It was another skirmish in the war of the sexes and Julia expected to win.

"So, how did you feel about our little bedroom scene last night," she asked, giving him another playful poke in the ribs with her foot.

Eric couldn't believe what he was hearing, the cavalier attitude was shocking. He opened his mouth wanting to yell at her for the indignities she had put him through, wanted to tell her that she had taken it too far. He needed to summon the courage to confront her as she sat there looking so sexy and innocent. She looked utterly unburdened by what she had put him though. Gracefully, she folded her arms under her breasts as she grew impatient, waiting on an answer. The simple movement pressed her breasts together, forming sweet, lovely cleavage that swelled above the cups of her nightgown. She looked so damn enticing. Even when she was upset or angry with him, Eric found it nearly impossible to ignore how deeply sensual Julia was. How did he feel? What could he possibly say to her that wouldn't upset her?

"Do you feel like I defiled you Eric?" she asked with a husky, sassy voice, making what happened sound like nothing more than a sexy game, trivializing it.

Eric struggled with the reality of it all, hating what she had done but still finding her irresistibly compelling and sexy at the same time. It was mortifying at how turned-on his demanding, beautiful wife made him. Maybe if he had been a stronger man, a better man, he could find the courage to confront her easier. As it was, he found it difficult to even look her in the eyes, preferring to idly stare at her pretty red toes and lovely feet. It was simply easier to get lost in her beauty than challenge her authority.

"I expect an answer, Eric. Did you like last night or not?" she demanded.

He was determined to tell her the truth. He needed to, at least, do that. She had handcuffed him, trapped him between her thighs, used him for her pleasure, and abandoned him afterwards. It had been deeply wrong. He was tormented though. As much as he didn't want to admit it, as shameful as he felt over the truth, much of it had also been deeply erotic at the time, almost painfully so. Satiating her lust on him as she had, making him a toy to her sexual needs, soaking him in her feminine nectar, reveling herself over him, all of it made him feel like a pawn to some superior, very feminine, queen. He had loved and loathed it at the same time. But, it had been wrong of her to simply use him like that, even if part of him had wanted it. She had to be told it was wrong. The tension in him was becoming nearly unbearable, his heart began pounding in his ears. Finally, his answer came, the conflict in him making it sound almost panicked. "No! I didn't. How could I?" Eric stood up, preparing to confront Julia, to tell her she had gone too far, that he had been used, demeaned, to demand some control back, some respect as a man.

"Sit down!" Julia commanded, each word spat out with firm resolve. She pointed to the end of the couch with a rigid finger, her long red nail looking almost sinister but sexy at the same time.

Eric's determination crumbled, his indignation faded. Slowly, one hand holding the blanket around his waist, he sat.

Julia looked at her hapless husband, pleased and repulsed at the same time at how easy he was to control. If only he had been more of a man none of this would have been necessary, she reminded herself. Samantha was right, taking complete control of his sex life was the next step. He needed to hear it, to know it, so there was no doubt about it between them. Her eyes hardened. She flexed the pretty toes he had locked his eyes onto again.

"I told you yesterday that there were things I was going to do to make sure our family gets back on track, Eric," her voice was calm but firm. She let her words sink in before delivering the harsh news to him, "Honestly, thinking about it, I don't care if you liked our little scene or not. Last night was just the beginning. What happens in our bedroom is for me to decide from now on. You better learn to get used to it because, from this point forward, if we have sex, when we have sex, and how we have sex is for me to decide." She let the words hang in the air for a bit to see if he would dare to raise an objection. He didn't. "If you ever want to touch me again, it's on my terms, totally and completely. You understand?"

Eric swallowed what little manly pride he had left, feeling utterly subdued, and nodded in agreement. He didn't know what else to do.

"I'll tell you something else too, you're going to learn to satisfy me orally. You're going to get over whatever silly hangups you have and learn to love having your face between my legs. And, until you learn to properly satisfy me with your mouth, don't you dare expect me to satisfy you."
Eric sat there for a few moments trying to take it all in. He thought back to the opportunities he had yesterday to stand-up to Julia, regretting that he hadn't somehow stopped her then. He needed to take some control back. Things were getting worse. She was so damn firm in her resolve, so unlike the Julia he had always known.

"Any questions?" she asked.

Eric nodded jerkily. "Yes, I have a question," he said as he summoned the courage to look away from her pretty feet. It was a big question. He was almost afraid to hear her answer. "Why?" he asked, looking her in the eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

Julia sighed. "I thought I'd been very clear about that, Eric," she said, glaring at him in frustration. "You need to listen, okay? I know these are big changes for you, for both of us; but, I don't want to have to go over this again with you," she said with irritation.

Eric nodded grimly, his face betraying how deeply troubled he felt.

Julia waited until he looked like she had his attention. He needed to hear the harsh, naked truth of it. "The old version of us is broken," she began. "You've been out of work for months and you haven't been looking very hard for a new job. That's become obvious." She waited to see if he would offer up some meager excuse, he didn't. "You're addicted to computer games and you've disrespected me tremendously, and really yourself too, by playing them while I've been working to support us. The very idea that you're playing some stupid game while I'm struggling to pay all the bills is galling! But it doesn't end there. You sat around and let our apartment go to hell even though you were home all the time and you're apparently working on becoming a drunk too!" Julia was making herself angry as she read off the charges against him. A small part of her still wanted to have compassion for him but the more she thought about it the less she believed it anymore. Maybe Samantha had always seen him more clearly than she had. He needed to accept what was coming for him, or else. "I have to tell you, honestly, and I'm sorry to say this, but I've lost all respect for you as a man and a provider." Julia's eyes bore into him like daggers. "I hope that's enough of an answer for you. It should be obvious, even to you. Somebody, needs to take charge in our marriage and you're clearly in no position to do it. So, I'm going to," she said firmly. "You can either accept it, accept the fact that I'm totally in charge now or you do have one other option - you can get out."

Eric swallowed hard. He shrunk under her withering words. The harsh appraisal was devastating. The really difficult part, despite how painful the litany had been to hear from Julia's sweet lips, was that he couldn't really refute any of it. Everything that came to his mind just sounded like lame excuses or even lies. He needed to accept the uncomplicated truth - he had failed her as a husband. His heart filled with self-contempt as he dwelt on it.

Maybe he should have seen all of this coming. Being an average-built, average-looking, nerdy guy he had always worried that Julia was out of his league. She was a strong, intelligent, well-educated, successful, beautiful woman. An alpha female. If there ever was such a thing, she was it. When he had been successful at work that was one thing, but now that he was faltering, his weakness was clear, his position was obvious. As much as it pained him to admit it to himself, how could he claim to be anything but a beta male to her? It was understandable she might resent being attached to a man below her station. It might even be coded into her genes, some biological imperative, a survival of the fittest sort of thing. He suddenly felt they were very broken together. Defeated, he lowered his eyes back down to Julia's pretty feet. Somehow, it seemed more appropriate.

"I... I admit I have some problems. Things I need to fix," Eric said meekly. "But I think I can get back on track and prove myself to you again, Juls."

"I don't know, Eric," she said skeptically. "Maybe? But, it seems unlikely right now. With everything you've done I'm not even sure I can trust you again, maybe not for years, and that doesn't fit in with my plans like having a baby. Remember that? How am I supposed to have a baby and stay at home for a time to breastfeed her when I can't even depend on you to get and keep a job?" she asked angrily. Julia shook her head. "No, I think we need to agree that the way we've done things in the past just isn't working anymore. We need a new direction."

Eric looked at her with a questioning, confused expression.

Julia took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. It was time. She was going to really do it - formally turn their marriage into a female lead marriage. She was going to sweep away the old Eric and all his nonsense. He would properly support and serve their marriage or else. "Yesterday was a big day for us, Eric. Even bigger than you realize. Honestly, it was a turning point for us as a married couple," she said.

"Juls, I'm not sure I like where this is headed," he said plaintively. "When we started this morning you said you wanted to talk like we used to." Eric lifted his hands to the air and just dropped them in defeat. His whole body was filling with loss and regret. "I admit I need to change. But... a whole new direction? A turning point? No. I don't think so."

Julia pouted and subtly shook her head. "Eric," she said dismissively. "We both have to open our minds here and be bold enough to see the truth. And, bold enough to do what needs to be done."

Eric gave her a blank stare, lost in his own misery of self-contempt and pity. He felt like a failure. He wasn't good enough for her. How long would it be before he lost her entirely? How long before she kicked him out into the street?

"The truth is Eric, whether you like it or not, I've taken charge. And, I'll tell you something else, I like it. It feels right. For the first time in months I'm beginning to believe we're getting back on track and it's because I've been leading us, because of what I did by taking charge."

Eric shrugged his shoulders, feeling too depressed to even debate her. He was a terrible provider. She could not depend on him. She was an alpha female and he was only a beta male, beneath her, a failure. The themes just kept repeating themselves in his mind. Obsessing like that was wrong, he knew it, but he felt so lost.

"I'm taking this to the next level, Eric." Anticipation began gnawing at her. Part of her believed it was wrong to be traveling down this path, taboo. Could she dare? How far would it go? Could she put him on his knees to serve her? Even further than that? Permanently change him? Put boobs on her husband?! Turn Eric into a milk maid for their baby?! The whole thing felt almost crazy but exciting too. She needed to say the words, make it real. Then, in time, she could decide what she wanted to do with him.

Eric sat there nearly motionless, staring at his wife's pretty polished toes, her lovely feet, her sweet ankles, her glorious thighs, the briefness of the skirt on her nightgown.

"We're not going to be in an ordinary marriage anymore Eric," she said.

Eric looked up, grief tearing at him, convinced she was going to leave him, abandon him.

"They call it a FLM."

"What?"

"Female lead marriage." As the words dripped off her tongue she could feel the heat between her thighs building. She'd actually done it. She'd said it, made it something real. Smiling with conceit and satisfaction, she watched Eric struggling to understand his new reality.

"I don't... understand," he said meekly.

"It's fairly simple, Eric. From this point forward, I'm leading our marriage. I'm making all the decisions," she said matter-of-factly. "Or, to put it another way, I'm the boss."

Eric's face was scrunched up into a pained, confused expression. "What... does that mean exactly?"

Julia regarded him and almost felt sorry for him. He was so unlike the man she thought she would marry. If she was honest with herself, she preferred large, strong, very masculine looking men, always had. Eric was anything but that. He wasn't much larger than she was, just a bit taller, thin, and rather average looking. She was even taller than he was when she wore heels and certainly more impressive looking overall. He sat there, at the end of their couch, topless, with a blanket wrapped around his waist that looked almost like a skirt. As a man, he looked somewhat pathetic. Add cute little boobies to him and there'd be little doubt that he was more girl than boy.

"I have some lotion on my vanity in the bedroom. Why don't you be a love and fetch it and come back. We'll talk about it," she said. Her voice sounded sweet, almost lyrical.

Eric stood up slowly, perplexed by what was happening. Wouldn't a real man stop this? Still, she controlled all their money and she controlled their bedroom. Now, she had declared herself the boss of their female lead marriage? She'd taken everything. How was he supposed to fight her? With what? Going along with it, for now anyway, at least until he got a job, seemed more reasonable than risk getting cut off by her. That would be a disaster.

"The lotion. Hurry up, Eric," she said with a couple little waves of her fingers and long, red nails.

Eric went into the bedroom, found the lotion, and returned to her with it, keeping his other hand clutched to the blanket around his waist the whole time to make sure it stayed in place. He probably should have grabbed a pair of pants but Julia seemed impatient for him to return so he hadn't bothered.

"Sit down," she encouraged him.

Eric sat back down where he had been earlier, at the end of the couch, next to her feet. He reached out to give her the lotion.

Julia shook her head, looking a little irritated. "My feet," she said, pointing to them. "Use it on my feet while we talk."

Eric's jaw went slack and he stared at her with disbelief. Did she plan on turning him into her servant too?

Julia flexed her perfect toes at Eric and poked him with her foot. "Come on Eric, who do you think you're kidding?" she asked. "You love my feet. You've been staring at them half the morning," she said with a seductive little grin. "You should consider it a privilege to rub lotion on my feet," she added, poking him again, trying to goad him into action.

Eric was torn with indecision. He sat there wanting to rub his hands all over her beautiful feet and wanting to resist giving in to her at the same time.

"You don't want me mad at you, Eric, trust me," she threatened. "Now get to it."

He did love her feet. His vixen of a wife was right about that, he thought. Her arches, alone, were enough to drive a man half crazy with lust for her. Eric picked up the lotion and pressed down on the pump, squeezing out a large dollop into his hand. He gently grasped her right foot by the heel, lifted it, and began rubbing the lotion along her long arch, slowly running it along from heel to toes, every inch of it a delight to touch.

"Good boy," she said. "Now, take your time. Use plenty of lotion on both feet. You can massage them too, until I tell you to stop," she commanded.

Eric nodded. He was both turned on by what he was doing with Julia's feet and ashamed that she could so easily compel him to do it.

Julia smiled and wriggled her toes at Eric as he rubbed lotion into her feet. "Very nice Eric," she said. "Make sure you don't leave my feet greasy, rub the lotion all the way in. Take your time."

Eric nodded with a grunt, trying to maintain his composure.

"The truth is," Julia began, "I don't think you could have talked me out of a FLM, Eric," she said. "I wanted to give you a chance to convince me differently but you never really got there. It's okay though. This makes sense for us. I'm convinced it's the right thing for our marriage. It's a new foundation, a stronger one, a better one, with me in control," she said.

Eric tried to remain calm. He focused of the sexy curve of her dainty foot and her lovely polished toes. The more he rubbed, the more sensual it became. He stiffened under the blanket as he ran his palm slowly along the full length of her arch to the pad of her foot.

"Think of it this way, there's a lot of couples who see the benefit of having one of them work while the other stays at home to care for the children and their home life together. So long as the family can do well on one income, that really does make a lot of sense. What never made sense was the idea that the woman would always stay home while the man always worked outside of it. There's nothing fair or even practical with that. How is it fair to demand the woman never have a career? If she's the better earner it only makes sense that she would have the career and the man would stay home. More and more couples are realizing it. It's fair and reasonable."

Eric only nodded to make sure she knew he was listening. He finished stroking the pad of her foot; then, reaching her toes, he gently massaged each one of them between thumb and forefinger, rocking them gently side-to-side. He hoped Julia couldn't tell how excited he had become under the blanket.

"Change feet love and use more lotion," Julia cooed.

Eric pumped another dollop of lotion into his palm and switched to her other foot, gently sliding his hand under her long arch to spread the cool emollient.

Julia smiled. "For us, it's very clear that I'm the far better choice as the earner," she continued. She was treading perilously close to telling him about her promotion. It was dangerous territory. She needed to steer away from it, spare his ego.

Eric shrugged as he kept rubbing her feet. "I admit that's true today, Julia. But, I'll get another job and soon. And, let's be fair, I was earning just a little more than you were before," he said with a weak smile.

Julia flashed a faux smile back at him and twisted her lips. After months of sitting around and doing nothing but playing games it was irksome that he'd even dare suggest he was the better earner. She had been trying to be kind to him from the moment she first hear about her promotion. It was a substantial position with a considerable bump in salary and perks. If she had told him about it, she knew, it could pulverize his fragile male ego. After what she had put him through, in the last couple days, it would almost certainly do so now. It would be like rubbing his face in her success and his failure. It would be borderline cruel, she couldn't do it.

"I got a promotion," she said.

Eric stopped rubbing her foot. He looked her in the eyes, searching for the truth. His heart sank.

"A big one, Regional Sales Manager" she added, rubbing his face even harder into the wound she had just created. She could hardly believe she had done it. That sense of power, she was beginning to crave, was humming throughout her body. Eric was like a piece of clay she wanted to mould. She would shape him into her stay-at-home submissive husband and maybe do far worse with him in time.

"When... did this happen?" Eric asked with a tremor in his voice.

"Yesterday," she said. "It comes with a fairly substantial salary increase. I'll also get a bigger bonus and my own office. Looking like a company car too and some other perks," she added. Julia watched Eric begin to droop as the reality settled in. As his brow furrowed, the corners of her mouth twitched upwards into a crooked smile. "My feet, Eric," she reminded him. "I didn't ask you to stop massaging my feet."

Eric waited a moment then pushed himself to resume rubbing his wife's pretty feet, going through the motions, but his heart wasn't in it anymore. Julia really was taking over everything. He had no idea how to even compete with her anymore. How could he even start to be a good provider when she kept gaining ground past him? How could he get her respect for him back? What did he even bring to their marriage anymore? A foot massager?! A pussy licker?!

"Focus, Eric. Don't just haphazardly rub at them," Julia said bluntly.

"Sorry... I-" Eric choked out, simply hoping to keep Julia from getting angry with him. At the very least, he should be able to give her a decent foot massage in light of everything else. Right? It was like his entire world had just collapsed. He needed time to think everything through.

Julia smiled as she enjoyed her foot massage. If he took his time, he actually was good at it. It was almost like he was worshipping her feet and she suspected that wasn't far from the truth. It would become part of his standard duties in time she decided. She hadn't expected Eric to be as malleable as he seemed to be but it pleased her. His weakness would make it all the easier for her to change him to whatever she wanted and she planned to enjoy every minute of it.

"Eric, I've been thinking and I believe there's new opportunities for us here. You have to open your mind to it. But, if you do, there's a wonderful opportunity for you to redefine yourself in a really great way," Julia said.

Eric looked up with apprehension then continued her massage.

"Like I was saying, many couples see a benefit in having one person working at a job, bringing in the money, while the other stays at home to be a homemaker," Julia stated. She watched him struggling with the changes being imposed, with the humility he was being expected to swallow. A few days ago, it would have troubled her to see him so upset. Now, it simply wasn't for some reason. "I think we can do that, have one of us take care of our home while the other works outside of it," she said. "Of course, with my new position, it's obvious that I would continue to be the earner for the family and naturally you'd become... the homemaker." Julia smiled as she declared his new station in their marriage.

"Homemaker?" Eric echoed, sitting there with a confused, twisted expression, looking as if he were in pain.

Julia nodded slowly with a sinister smile locked onto her pretty face.

"But, I'm still looking for a job, Juls," he complained. "I don't want to be a... homemaker. That's woman's-"

Julia's expression turned hard, stopping Eric in mid-sentence. "You better not say, 'woman's work'," Julia warned.

Eric shook his head vigorously, having headed inadvertently into dangerous ground. "It's just... I plan on getting another job, Juls. Eventually, I will."

Julia rolled her eyes and sighed. She couldn't push him too fast, she reminded herself, he might rebel, maybe escape the plans she had for him. He'd gone glassy eyed. He needed a little breathing room, for now. "That's fine, Eric. When you find a job we can revisit your role but until then I think you need to have some focus, something important to do. I won't allow you to continue playing computer games all day, drinking, and pretending to look for work," she said. "So, I think it's reasonable, and only fair, for now, that you become the homemaker."

Eric nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"Eric, it'll be fine," she said reassuringly. "Really, when you get a new job we can revisit it. That's not a problem. You can have control over that," she said. "But, for now, it makes sense for you to be the homemaker. It's fair and reasonable," she reminded him. "If our circumstances were reversed I rather suspect you'd expect me to play the traditional female-homemaker role. So why shouldn't you? And, I don't want to hear some sexist nonsense about how it's okay for a woman but not a man. That argument died decades ago."

Eric just nodded his head, agreement being easier than trying to argue with her.

"Also, and I'm certain you'll like this, so long as you keep the house clean, you can even play games during the day, whenever you want really," she said.

Eric looked at her confused. "What? I don't get it," he said.

"Being a homemaker is a job, Eric," she explained. "If you're keeping the house properly cleaned and you're being a good homemaker then you are working. We'd both be working again. So, I'm fine with you playing games while I'm at the office," she said.

"Really?" he asked with a cautious incredulity.

"Yes, really," she said with certainty. "In fact, if you wanted, you could even stop looking for a job outside of the home. I'd be fine with you being our full-time homemaker," she said. "That can be your job going forward. No more painful job hunt. No more interviews. No more gender politics. No more disappointments." Julia smiled at him.

"You'd really be okay with me being a full-time homemaker?"

"Honestly, I'd prefer it," she said with sincerity. "I guess, you can think of it as role reversals if you want, me taking the traditional male role and you taking the traditional female role but who cares? That doesn't matter anymore, that type of thinking is archaic," she said with distaste, "part of the patriarchy," she added, surprising even herself at how easily it fell off her tongue.

Eric sat up a little straighter. In the midsts of everything else, oddly, the idea of being a homemaker felt like a lifeline Julia was throwing to him. It was something she might respect, something he could provide to their marriage. "You're really, really sure you'd be okay with me doing the homemaker thing?" he asked with apprehension.

"Yes, of course, I am" she said. "I really want you to consider it as a new full-time job opportunity. In fact, I'm really hoping you do because there's another huge benefit for both of us," she said. "We could consider having our baby."

Eric could see the sincerity in her eyes and what looked like hopeful optimism on her face.

"You would have to commit to being at home full-time, that might not be right away, but once you did we could consider having our baby," she said.

"I thought the plan was for you to stay home for awhile to breastfeed the baby," Eric said.

Julia looked at Eric and flashed a quirky smile at him. "I'm considering some different options," she said, her smile settling to something more subtle and mischievous. Knowing the truth would be too much for him to hear. It was simply too soon to tell Eric she was considering putting breasts on him, that he might nurse their baby with his own womanly teats. "The important thing to remember, if you're at home full-time you can nurture our child and provide a loving home for her," she said.

Eric nodded, taking it in. A baby girl was fine with him, a baby boy was fine too, of course.

"There's many, many men that stay at home with the children these days, providing for their needs while their women build their careers to support the family," she said. "There's nothing wrong with dropping old, antiquated gender stereotypes, Eric. You can be an important provider again," she said with a reassuring smile. Convincing him to go along with feminizing himself wasn't going to be easy. He needed to be broken down, needed to have his traditional, patriarchal, image of masculinity eroded and undermined, the sex based roles he was taught eliminated and replaced with something more nurturing, more feminine. There was a lot of work that needed to be done before he could be fitted for his first bra, she reasoned.

Eric smiled, there seemed to be a lot of benefits to her proposal. He still wanted to get a regular job. A career was important too. It might be very difficult to pull ahead of Julia now but he wanted to try. If he could, maybe he could still get them back to something more normal.

"So what do you say Eric? Ready to become the family's homemaker?" she asked sweetly.

"Well, I'm not sure about doing it full-time yet, Juls," he answered. "My work used to be very important to me. More than just a job, a lot more. I was doing something important. I... I felt alive, I guess. I want to get back to that," he said. "But... in the meantime, while I'm still looking for a job, if it'll make you happy, then yes. I can do the homemaker thing."

Julia grinned. "That's fantastic, Eric. It means a lot," she said with enthusiasm. It was a start, she reasoned. Another barrier broken. She didn't expect him to agree with being a full-time homemaker immediately but he needed to hear it as something reasonable so she could steer him there in time. She was one step closer to having him right where she wanted him.

Eric took a deep breath and exhaled, blowing out some of the stress with it. He was relieved to find some common ground with Julia.

"See how much better things run with me in charge, Eric," Julia said with a smile.

Eric gave her a shallow nod, more an acknowledgment than anything else.

"Good," she said, ignoring his lack of enthusiasm. "But, I don't want you getting the wrong idea. Like I said before, everything is different between us now. Agreeing to be a homemaker is just the beginning. I'll be watching you, grading you everyday to make sure you're doing your job. If you're not, I'll find a way to punish you for your poor performance. Understand?"

Eric stared at her blankly as a spike of fear shot through him. "Okay... yes, I understand," he said, his voice betraying the worry he felt.

"I am going to exercise and maintain control in this marriage," Julia said. "I control all the money, the bedroom and your job now too," she said with authority. "And, I may have other tasks for you to perform at times, little things, like giving me foot massages. That shouldn't be too difficult for you to master," she said.

Eric looked crestfallen. She had encouraged him, lifted him up, made him feel better, then dropped him again, hard, putting him under her thumb. "Julia, I-"

"Eric, you can either accept my terms or go live in your car," she said firmly. "I'll cut you off if you defy me," she said, her eyes fierce and determined. "Cut you off from everything! Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what, Eric?!"

"Yes, I understand, Julia."

Julia smiled at his compliance. It was odd though. The morning hadn't gone as she had thought it would. She'd actually expected it to be more kind somehow, less harsh. It just seemed to have happened, one thing leading to another. He was even more under her thumb now than when they started. It wasn't planned. She did want to honor her promise to him to be a good wife but she was losing focus on what that even meant anymore. The more dominant she became and the more submissive he became the more she loved it. The power was intensely intoxicating.

"One more thing, Eric," she said softly.

Eric looked at her with apprehension.

"My promise to you, to be a good wife."

"Yes?"

Julia thought about it, thought about what the old Julia might say to him, maybe that was enough. It would have to be. "I'm afraid, things are different now, Eric," she said. "I think, the best I can do to fulfill my promise to you is to... give you a warning."

"A warning?"

Julian nodded solemnly. "I'm going to change us, Eric. I'm going to change you too," she said. "In ways I don't think you'll like," she added. "It's going to happen if we stay together. It just is."

Eric looked at the seriousness in her face and a chill ran down his back.

"What do you-"

"That's all I'm saying, Eric. That's my warning," she said matter-of-factly. "I've done my part. I've honored my promise to you as I see it," she said. "From now on, I'm moving forward. The past is done."

Eric stared at her, convinced more than ever that his old Julia was gone, maybe forever. It terrified and oddly excited him. He didn't know what to think anymore.

"Now, I'm a little chilly," Julia announced. "Give me that blanket around your waist."

Eric locked his eyes on her in disbelief as her hand reached out towards him for the blanket, impatience already clear as she wagged her fingers at him.

He pulled the blanket from around his waist robotically, leaving himself naked before her, and placed it in her outstretched hand.

Julia smirked at him. Maybe he was just a natural submissive. Maybe he was one of those men that craved female authority. Regardless, he was well on his way for what she had planned for him. He'd been warned. "I think it's time you finished my foot massage, Eric," she said. "Sit down and get to it."

Dejected, overwhelmed, he reached out and did as he was told.

CHAPTER SEVEN
Sisterly Advice

Eric toiled in the kitchen, scrubbing the bottom of the kitchen sink for the second time that day to remove some gunk he'd missed earlier. Rinsing and drying followed. The sink needed to shine for Julia's inspection when she returned home from work. Perfection would be demanded.

It had been three days since Julia had declared that they were now in a female lead marriage. Everyday since had been a challenge in humility and service for Eric. As the homemaker, there was housework that Julia expected him to complete each day which she inspected in the evenings and often added to.

The inspections were painful and demeaning. As she combed through the apartment there was the inevitable frown of disappointment that told him he had failed on something. Often the frown was accompanied by hurtful comments and instructions on how to improve or 'do it right'.

Yesterday, she'd gotten so upset with him for a grease stain in the sink, from some sausages he'd cooked for breakfast, that she'd actually taken away the power cord from his computer as a punishment. He missed another important engagement with his guild and lied using the same half-truth about 'computer problems' he'd relied on before to cover his shame. What else could he do? Tell people that Julia unplugged him for failing to clean the sink to her satisfaction? It was unthinkable.

Eric furrowed his brow in frustration. The threat of cutting him off financially and in the bedroom was daunting, plenty to blackmail him with. That she used it so freely seemed cruel. But, there was something else developing that was even more worrisome. He wasn't sure what it was. A certain attitude from her? A bolder confidence? Maybe the way she carried or comported herself? Whatever it was, it seemed to be effecting him, making him more... compliant to her. It was like she simply expected that he recognize her authority over him and he was. He felt it anytime he was with her now and it seemed to be getting worse, more intense. If it continued...

He shook his head and took a deep breath trying to clear his mind of troubling thoughts. It was well into the afternoon, time to focus. He needed to finish his cleaning before Julia came home. He stepped back from the sink, gave the kitchen a final look, and decided to move on. Another, even more degrading, task was waiting.

Walking into the bathroom, Eric stared at the washbasin with ambivalence, shaking his head at the task before him. A dozen of Julia's panties were soaking in the basin waiting for him to clean them. He felt humiliated at the prospect.

He'd dug them out of her hamper earlier, feeling odd and a bit perverse the entire time. Now they were waiting for him to hand scrub them as Julia had directed. Eric grimaced with disgust. What type of man would agree to hand scrub his wife's panties? What did that make him?

He fought back his feelings, there was a job to do. Julia expected her panties to be cleaned and she expected him to clean them.

Leaning over the basin, he stared at the sudsy water and wet, delicate panties. He had to admit, they were tantalizing in a way. He couldn't help but think of Julia's lovely, sweet womanhood looking at them.

He reached a hand out then stopped, hovering just inches over the soaking panties. He was struggling inside. Would doing this change him somehow? Was he about to pass some unspoken line into a lower level of servitude? He shook his head as he lowered his fingers ever closer towards Julia's intimates. Like it or not, Julia had told him to do it. Refusing her wasn't really an option. Slowly, his face twisted into a partial grimace, he dropped his hand into the water, pulled a pair out, and stared at them while water and suds drizzled away back into the basin. He felt a pleasing twitch in his pants suddenly. The panty was exotic, sexy, utterly female. Tiny, bikini panties, black lace with a decorative, red bow on the front. Thinking about Julia wearing them, hour upon hour, against her naked pussy was making him stiff.
Eric groaned in frustration. He had to remind himself that there was a job to do. Julia would expect to see clean and dry panties in a handful of hours.

Eric lowered them back to the water and began to slowly, gently, rub at the crotch of the garment with his fingers. He continued cleaning, rubbing and scrubbing at every inch, taking his time, continuing until he believed Julia would be pleased. It felt wrong to be doing it, shameful, but some small part of him was confusingly enjoying it too, almost pleased that Julia was making him do it for some perverse reason.

After the first panty, he did the rest in turn. He rinsed them afterwards, gently squeezed the water out, and pressed them between some fluffy white towels to further dry them. Finally, they were hung from little hooks with clothespins on the ends designed for air drying such things. When he was done, a dozen panties were adorning their shower.

Eric felt somehow diminished at the end of it. It was like another piece of his manhood had been taken. Maybe that was part of Julia's plan, to drain away his manhood bit by bit. If it continued what would be left?

He became increasingly distressed as he pondered his future in Julia's female lead marriage, staring at her sexy panties like they were indictments, each one proclaiming the demise of his masculinity. The fact that he was rock-hard after being forced to hand wash her dirty panties just made it all worse. Did she know how excited it would make him? How could he permit this to continue?

He wandered out of the bathroom in a conflicted fog of loss and arousal. Where Julia was taking them just had to be wrong, didn't it? Eric crossed over to the couch and plopped down.

Julia had become like a force of nature. Escaping his predicament and returning their marriage to something more normal seemed impossible. Getting a job would help for certain, it might be part of the answer but it didn't seem likely that Julia would surrender their female lead marriage that easily.

He sat there stewing for a time when it finally occurred to him that he needed to somehow talk to somebody about the situation. He desperately needed some perspective, some advice. But who to go to?

Lucas just wouldn't understand what was happening, not on any level. It would be mortifying to tell him the things that Julia had done to him. To tell any of the guys he knew that his wife had literally taken control over everything, had turned him into a homemaker and was now making him hand wash her soiled panties was beyond humiliating. There was just no way to tell that to other guys. He'd be declared a wimp or sissy or maybe worse. He'd lose every friend he had.

Then, as he sat there almost ready to abandon hope that he might find someone to commiserate with he unexpectedly thought of his sister. Emily wouldn't be his first choice as a confidant, they weren't really close. She did care about family though and he thought he could trust her.

He wavered for a bit, then before he could convince himself not to, he grabbed his phone, looked her up in his family contacts, and hit the call button. It began to ring. His anxiety immediately spiked. He was having second thoughts. How could he even consider discussing his plight with his sister? He decided to hang up...

"Hello?" Emily said.

"Em?" Eric replied hesitantly.

"Eric? That you?" Emily asked.

He thought about just hanging up, maybe pretend it was a mistake, an accidental dialing or something.

"Eric? Something wrong?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied, the uncertainty clear in his voice.

"What's going on? Did something happen? Is everybody okay?" she asked.

Eric felt a flood of emotion rising. He caught his breath as his eyes began to moisten. "No. Not really," he choked out, struggling to regain composure.

"Eric, what's going on?" she demanded firmly.

"I'm... having problems," he said slowly, "at home."

"Eric, what are you talking about? At home? What do you mean? Julia? You having problems with Julia?"

Eric nodded vigorously, realizing a moment later the pointlessness of the gesture over the phone. "Yes," he said, hoping there was no need to explain further.

Emily sighed, exasperated. "What happened? What she do?" she asked impatiently.

Eric cringed, pulling the phone tightly to his head. "It's... just going all wrong, Em," he whined. How could he tell her, without really telling her, he wondered. "She's like taking over our whole marriage." He wanted to spill every detail, wanted to hear soothing, supporting words from his sister; but, the shame was too deep, too hurtful. "She controls all our money, Em. I don't know what to do. She's threatening to cut me off if I don't do everything she wants."

"What?! Eric..." she started. "Get a job! Man up, little brother," she said, sounding annoyed.

Eric closed his eyes and shook his head slowly, his sister's words adding to his pain, confirming his failures. "I've been trying. It's been very difficult," he said, almost groaning the words out. "The job market isn't what it used to be," he added.

The line was quiet.

"You don't understand, Em. This is a lot more than just getting a job. She... took over. Everything. She's forcing me to do things," he said with desperation. "It's like she expects me to become her servant or maid or something, Em."

The line was quiet.

"Em? She says we're in a female lead marriage now!" he blurted, his cheeks burning at the admission.

Emily snorted, then muffled her phone for a few moments. "Did I hear that right?" she asked when she came back. "A female lead marriage?"

Eric felt almost dizzy with humiliation and embarrassment - it was out there. His sister knew how pathetic he'd become. What was he thinking?! "Em, please," he begged. "Please don't... This is... it's serious. I don't know what to do. I don't know... how to handle her anymore."

Emily sighed.

He felt utterly humiliated, devastated, worse than before he called. There was more though, something twisted, because as desperate as he was for a way out, as much as Julia had to be stopped, some small part of him was still aroused by Julia's, new found, dominance. Even, the fact, that his sister now knew about the FLM was somehow adding to it. It was like humiliation and sexual arousal were getting fused together in his brain. What was happening to him? It just had to be stopped before he lost himself. "I was hoping maybe you could help me figure out what to do," he said meekly.

"Good grief, Eric. Really? A female lead marriage? Huh. Didn't expect that one," she mused. "I'm not really surprised you're having problems with Julia," she said. "I mean, I expected she'd have you wrapped around her pretty little finger by now but I didn't think she'd have your balls in a jar," she mocked.

Eric winced at the critique.

"How long have you two been married for now?" she asked.

"A little over three years," he said.

"Three years? Honestly, I didn't expect you guys to make even two. Not you and Julia," she said.

"What? Why?"

"You know, I did try having this conversation with you before you married her. Remember?"

Eric thought back to their wedding. A few people, including his sister, had approached him about Julia. He didn't take any of them seriously, he was too enamored with his bride, felt too lucky, too thrilled that a woman as beautiful and sexy as Julia agreed to marry him - a fairly average, nerdy guy. "I remember you asked me if I was sure, something like that."

"That's right. I asked you if you were really sure if you wanted to marry her. I asked you if you thought you really knew her," she said.

Eric shrugged. "I don't think I really thought about it. I was so thrilled to be getting Julia," he said. "I guess I figured you were just doing a big sister thing. I didn't take it like a warning or anything."

"I felt responsible at the time," she explained. "I introduced you two, more like dumped her on you if you want the truth. You weren't suppose to marry the girl!"

"Dumped her on me?" he asked with surprise.

Emily sighed. "Didn't you ever ask her about her past? Guys she dated? Anything like that? You two ever have that conversation?"

"No," Eric admitted. He'd never asked her, never wanted to know about her boyfriends. He figured there had been many, most of them probably better looking than he was, more appealing, even more capable in the bedroom.

"No?! Huh," she said surprised. "You should have, Eric," she said firmly. "Maybe you could have headed off your... situation. I dunno, maybe not. I still don't think you should have married her, little brother. For starters, you're just not her type."

"Not her type?" Eric asked, puzzled.

Emily sighed again. "That's what I said, not her type, Eric," she replied, seemingly frustrated. "Don't you get it? She used to date real beefcakes, big guys, lots of muscles, very masculine. I think she dated a lot of athletes, like guys on the football team, guys like that."

It made sense, depressing, but it made sense. Julia was an alpha female, she preferred alpha males.

"I'm afraid, little brother, that you were more of a...," she paused for a moment, looking for the right word, "compromise," she finally said. "I'm pretty sure, you just happened to come into her life at the right time. Like I said, you're just not her type. She never... This is going to sound harsh but I think you need to hear it. I don't think she ever, in her heart-of-hearts, wanted to be with you."

Eric went a bit numb, truly dumbfounded by his sister's words. "I don't understand," Eric said slowly.

"Eric, when she met you she was rebounding. She was running away from all the guys she'd been dating," she said. "As I heard it, she had terrible taste in men. She kept picking bad guys to be with. I mean, like really bad, slapped around bad. Get it? Men that would get drunk and get abusive. Got the picture?"
"But... if I wasn't her type and she was having problems with men then why start dating me?" he asked.

"Because she was confused and messed up at the time maybe," she replied. "I think... it's because you were a different kind of guy. You weren't going to abuse her like the men she normally dated so she convinced herself that you were the kind of man she should be with. She idealized you into something you weren't. That's what I think happened," Emily said.

The line went quiet for a time.

Eric was utterly perplexed. Was his entire marriage to Julia a sham? Did he really know her at all, understand her pain, her needs?

"Em?"

"Yes?"

"I have to ask," he started ,"if Julia was so messed up back then, why the heck did you introduce us?! Why?"

"I just asked you to get her a drink!" she snapped back. "You weren't supposed to marry her you little nerd! Don't blame me for your problems!"

Eric shook his head feeling betrayed. "My sister introduces me to a beautiful girl at a party, asks me to get her a drink, and disappears. What was I supposed to think? You didn't tell me anything about her, Em! Why not?"

The line was quiet.

"Em? Why didn't you warn me about Julia when you introduced us?"

"I was trying to get rid of her, Eric," she said matter-of-factly.

"What?"

Emily sighed. "Eric, I told you, she was messed up, confused. She was getting beat up by the horrible creeps she was dating. So she..." Emily sighed again. "She decided to experiment with other girls, okay?"

"Other girls?!" Eric asked astonished.

"She was chasing me, Eric! She was chasing me and I wasn't interested because I knew she was on the rebound," Emily said. "When I saw you at the party I dumped her on you. I told her you'd get her a drink, that I needed to talk to somebody first and I disappeared," she admitted. "I didn't expect her to take an interest in you. How could I? I thought she was only interested in girls at the time. How was I supposed to know she'd latch onto you?"

Eric was stunned at the revelations.

"And, before you ask," Emily started, "yes, I was experimenting back in college too. Julia was chasing me because she knew. But, we were never lovers. There was never even a date."

Eric didn't say anything. He was married to a woman he didn't even know anymore. It seemed like, she never knew him either. Then, when she finally saw his failings, when the facade crumbled, it just made sense to her to take over. It didn't make it right but it might explain why she was doing it to him.

"You were just supposed to get her a drink, Eric."

"But, what am I supposed to do now, Em?" he asked. "I can't just walk away from her. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't. I have nowhere to go. I have no money of my own anymore. Maybe I could get welfare or something but I don't think I'd even qualify for that."

"I don't know what to tell you. I'd probably have left a long time ago but that's me," she said.

The line was quiet.

"I haven't seen Julia in years," Emily said. "Seems to me she can be very driven when she wants, little brother. So, I'll give you some advice. If you don't want to leave her then you better learn how to deal with her being in charge," she said. "Get comfortable being a male in a female lead marriage, little brother."

"She said she's going to change me in ways I won't like," Eric said with melancholy.

"Then I'd leave, little brother. Not sure what else to say to you. I'd leave," she said simply.

Eric lifted the phone away from his ear and hung up on her. He felt betrayed by Emily, used by his own sister when she brought Julia into his life. Of course, she wasn't entirely to blame; but, had she not dumped Julia on him that night...

Eric got up from the couch and began wandering through the apartment as he struggled to keep his emotions under control.

His stomach began churning as he looked around their home, at the life they had built together. How real had it ever been? He couldn't help but wonder if Julia had ever truly loved him or if it was some fantasy version that she loved. Which was it?

He wasn't sure he could blame her either way, now that he understood her past. Maybe everything she was doing, from her point of view, made perfect sense. Eric winced at the thought of it, his mood darkened. Julia had been a victim. She wasn't being cruel so much as trying to keep from being a victim again because another man, in her life, was failing her. Was that it?

Eric grimaced and shook his head. It still didn't make it okay. Eric hadn't asked to be in a FLM, hadn't asked to be her maid either for that matter. She shouldn't be forcing it on him. He needed to stand up to her somehow. It seemed impossible though. She'd been very clear - they weren't going back to how things were and she was planning even more changes. Whatever she had in mind seemed ominous.

His stomach tied itself in knots as he dwelt on it. The situation was unbearable. He rubbed his forehead and groaned as his heart started to race and pound. There was only one option - escape. As unimaginable as it was, leaving Julia was the only thing to do.

It might be a terrible struggle but it had to be better than what Julia was doing. His face twisted up into a grimace of disgust as he fought self-doubt and worry. He couldn't allow himself to think about the consequences. It was too important to get away from her while he still could.

Eric marched to his closet in the bedroom, rummaged in the back, and pulled out his suitcase and travel bag. He tossed them on the bed and froze, curling his sweating hands into fists as he stood there. He pushed down the pain in his stomach with difficulty, lamenting the loss of his relationship with his beautiful, vibrant wife. He was desperate to stay with her but just had to go, had to find the strength.

Firming his resolve, Eric started packing the essentials. Anytime Julia came to mind, he refocused on the packing and on the idea of being true to himself, thinking back to the days when he had a great job and was in control of his life and destiny. He kept going, tearing through closet and drawers, leaving a mess as things were abandoned as unneeded. When finished, the luggage was filled to capacity, loaded with nearly everything needed for living on the road.

He was about to leave the room but stopped and walked to Julia's dresser instead. He slid open the top drawer, her lingerie drawer, and stared at all the lovely garments within. Silks and satins with lovely lace brocades littered the drawer. If nothing else, she was the most beautiful and sensuous woman he'd ever been with, he doubted he'd find anything like her again.

Gently, he pulled out a pair of red, silk panties with a rose-pattern brocade. They were beautiful and richly feminine. He stuffed them into his pocket as a memento, something to remember her by.

Then, in a sudden act of defiance, he yanked the drawer out entirely and flipped it onto the floor. Julia's bras, panties, and nighties were in a heap, a bit of retribution for making him hand scrub her dirty panties. He sneered at the mess with satisfaction then began kicking at the heap repeatedly, scattering it in all directions. Eric chuckled at the results. It was like a bomb had gone off. Panties, bras and nighties were everywhere, even the lamps were decorated.

"Now you get to do some cleaning," he mocked as if Julia was standing there.

Picking up the luggage, he left the room and dropped the suitcase and travel bag at the front door. All that remained was to leave. He had a couple of hours before Julia would return from work.

A smile spread across his face as he walked into their freshly cleaned kitchen. Eric grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator, opened it and began chugging it down. Gulp after gulp he relished the cold brew passing down his throat. In moments, it was gone.

"Screw her," he said contemptuously.

It was the same beer Julia had found days earlier at the front door, beer he'd been afraid to even touch until now. Eric grinned then belched as crudely as he could, celebrating his freedom from Julia.

Grabbing the rest of the six-pack, he walked to the sliding glass door for the patio and flung it open, slamming it to the back of the track. He stepped out onto the patio with a smile, plucking another beer out to enjoy.

John was below, sprawled out on his patio, looking up at him, likely drawn to the noise from the sliding glass door moments before. Unsteadily, he rose a large can of beer towards Eric, gesturing a toast, one beer drinker to another. Eric grinned and returned the gesture then slugged back some of the golden nectar. It didn't take long before he'd drained the bottle, fully enjoying the fresh air and sunshine.

Grabbing another bottle from the carton, he eased into the deck chair to relax and took another couple long slugs of brew. A pleasing buzz started to mellow his mood. It was a near perfect day to start his new life, he reasoned. He took a deep breath and eased it out slowly. He resolved to enjoy their apartment while he still could, maybe have a last meal, finish the beers, whatever else came to mind. No need to rush, maybe leave in a hour or so, plenty of time before 'her majesty' returned home. He took another large slug and smiled. He only wished he could see her face when she found the bedroom trashed.

CHAPTER EIGHT
Samantha's Surprise

Julia sat alone in Samantha's office. It had been almost twenty minutes since she had left to fetch another document they needed to finalize Julia's promotion. Impatience was settling in.

Oddly enough, Julia had never been in Samantha's office before, she never mentioned she even had one. Thinking on it, Julia realized that Samantha had always sought her out. She'd come to Julia's cube or invite her out to lunch somewhere. Sam had really put in the effort to be a good friend.

It was an interesting room as she looked around, not really what she expected. If a room was supposed to reflect the personality of its occupant, this one seemed to lack the vitality and flash of the Samantha she knew. The office was well organized, spartan, lacking the typical clutter of most offices or cubicles. What was really odd though was the lack of personal touches that one normally expected to see. There were no photos displayed, no plaques citing accomplishments, no doodads that reflected on the occupant or that offered the occasional distraction during the day. It was far easier to believe that it was some loaner office for visiting executives. There was one notable exception - a portrait that hung behind Samantha's desk.

Protected by a sleek, modern, metallic frame, it looked to be an oil painting of a warrior woman, or was it something else? Contrasting themes seemed to be at play blending warrior and woman together into something that was both familiar and yet surreal and distant. It was a fusion of a beautiful woman wearing a scratched and scarred medieval helmet which oddly came down over her eyes to rest at the bridge of her nose, blinding her. Below the cold iron helmet, her plump lips were colored a deep, rich red and, instead of armor, she wore a cream colored dress with floral embroidery. There was a haunting, somber quality to the painting which fused feminine beauty and the harsher realities of conflict and war into a single, evocative image. Beauty and conflict. Both were part of the Samantha she knew.

Getting restless for some attention, Julia peered through the glass partition into the monochrome hallways and common spaces outside the office looking for Samantha. There was a continual buzz of activity as people moved about the hallways or toiled away at their desks. It was good to see the company busy and productive and to know she was an important part of making it successful.

Still looking for Samantha, a man passed by in the hallway and offered her an awkward wave and stiff smile as he moved by. If she recalled, he had been in another sales division, competing with her for sales. He almost certainly worked for her now, likely a couple of levels below her on the organizational chart. Maybe she'd arrange a lunch sometime for her subordinates and invite him to see if he'd properly fall in line behind her so Samantha could add him to the tally in the "who's the boss" game. Power had its privileges after all.

In time, she finally spotted Samantha coming down the hallway with a portfolio in hand. Her skirt was swishing about her legs as she hurried forward on strappy, peep toe, stilettos, walking in them as easily as most women did in flats. She smiled warmly at Julia as she approached, mouthing the words "last one" as she got close.

"I am so sorry to keep you waiting," Samantha said as she entered the office. "Legal pushed out a last minute change to the corporate non-disclosure agreement you need to sign and I had a problem getting my hands on it."

"It's not a problem," Julia said. "You can make it up to me though," she added playfully with a grin.

Samantha sat down behind her desk with a bemused expression. "Okay," Samantha responded coyly, unsure of what to expect.

"The painting?" Julia asked, gesturing towards it with her eyes. "It's a striking image. Beautiful in a way but sad too. Any idea why the helmut is over her eyes?"

Samantha shrugged. "Well, I can't say what the artist was thinking for sure, never talked to her."

"A woman did paint it then?" Julia asked.

"Of course. I found that much out at the gallery," Samantha said admiring her painting, entranced by it. "I can tell you what I see," she said with a touch of reverence in her voice.

"Please do," Julia encouraged sincerily.

Samantha was genuinely moved by the painting as she regarded it. "When I look at it, and I mean really look at it, I see both a warrior and a womyn. They're one in the same. It reminds me of the never ending struggle womyn have had since the very beginning," she said ruefully. "Forever battling for equality and respect, for dignity. Even for love." Samantha shrugged.

"I think the helmet says she's been in wars. I guess it seems a little odd, maybe, being over her eyes - she's blinded by her own helmet. But, I think it defines her too. It's a part of her war. She's been blinded, forced to paint her lips and forced into some pretty little dress, things to make her more pleasing and less threatening to men, but she's still a warrior. She's still fighting, even if she didn't fully see it or realize it." Samantha took a deep breath and turned to face Julia. "Maybe that's a lot to see into it, into her, but you asked." Samantha touched the frame, almost lovingly, then locked eyes with Julia. "I find her very empowering at times. She reminds me to go for the things I want, to fight for them, even when something is trying to blind me or tell me what to do - men, polite society, whatever."

Julia smiled at her and nodded reassuringly. Had they been someplace, other than the office, she might have offered Samantha a hug.

Samantha returned the smile. "Just my take on it. Hope that helps."

"Yes. It does. That's beautiful in a way. Thank you."

"Anytime," Samantha said gracefully.

Both women locked smiles with each other, enjoying the moment together.

"Anyway, back to work," Samantha said. "I have the last document for you to sign." Samantha retrieved several pages from her portfolio and presented them to Julia.

Julia grabbed the document and stared to skim through it. "Any problems with it?" she asked. "Anything for me to be concerned about?"

"No," Samantha said. "They added a section on directing any questions you might get about staffing and workforce composition to human resources at corporate. Overall, standard corporate stuff, don't say anything to anybody that's not supposed to hear it. If you leave the company the same rules apply. You'll want to review it but it's nothing to be concerned about."

"I'll take your word for it," Julia said as she flipped to the last page and signed the document, "I trust you."

Samantha smiled and added the document to the stack Julia had signed earlier. "And, with the last document signed, that's it," she said cheerily. "Let me be the first one to formally congratulate you on your new position," she said extending her hand with glee.

Julia smiled in return as they shook hands to mark the occasion, only to have Samantha's grip tighten for the briefest moment as Julia tried to release afterwards, their eyes then locking for only an instant as her hand was finally surrendered.

"Thank you," Julia said as the slightly awkward moment passed.

"My pleasure," Samantha responded.

Julia nodded with a smile. "Did you want to get some coffee then? Catch up? We have some time, right?" she asked.

Samantha twisted her lips into a playful looking smirk. "We still have over an hour left in the meeting," she said. "But, I scheduled in extra time for a bit of a surprise."

"A surprise?" Julia asked astonished.

Samantha nodded, a big grin betraying her excitement. "I'm hoping you're not going to be upset though," she said puckering her lips playfully.

"About what?" Julia asked with a cautious but genuine curiosity.

"Well, given all our conversations about Eric and about AGen...," she teased out, "I was able to arrange... an initial consultation."

Julia went wide eyed, her mouth dropped open in shock as she sat back in the chair dumbfounded.

"After dinner the other night," Samantha began to explain, "I thought you said you were really curious about AGen. So, I decided to see what else I could find out for you and I eventually got a website address."

Julia sat there in silence, still stunned, trying to absorb the enormity of what Samantha had done.

"I decided to contact them through their website," Samantha said. "Really, I was just trying to get more information from them, to give to you. A day later, they called me. They asked me a few questions and wanted to know more. I didn't give them too many details. They were the ones that actually suggested the consultation. They wanted to talk to you directly."

Julia shifted forward and did her best to regain her composure. "I'm not sure what to say, Sam," she said slowly, like she was in a daze.

"You are still interested, right?" Samantha asked hesitantly.

Julia pursed her lips. "Honestly? I've thought about it. Maybe more than I should have," Julia admitted. "But, really, truly, doing it to him?!" Julia felt flush. "Put boobs on Eric?!" she whispered across the desk. "It seems crazy to even talk about it. It would change everything."

Samantha nodded in agreement, smiling at her beautiful friend. If she could help convince Julia to move forward with putting boobs on hapless Eric it had to undermine any hold he might have on her as a man, as her husband. She'd never be able to look at him in quite the same way ever again.

"It would solve all my problems at home," Julia mused, as her brow furrowed.

"And, it would be the fair thing to do," Samantha reminded her. "You're the one working, bringing in all the money, supporting both of you. It's only fair that he pulls his weight for the family. He should be taking care of everything at home and that includes caring for your children," she said earnestly. "He can adapt to being Mr. Mom. Why not? If that includes wearing a nursing bra someday so what? What's the big deal? Womyn do it. Why can't a man? I think it's only fair."

Julia nodded slowly. "Yes, we did talk about that," Julia said soberly. "And, I guess, it does make some sense." There was still some conflict playing out in her heart. She had taken charge of their marriage, that needed to happen. Eric had utterly failed as a husband, she reminded herself. Under her direction, he'd do better. If that meant being a househusband, filling the old, traditional wife role, so be it. But did that really mean he should have breasts too? Was Samantha right? Was it simple fairness and equality?

"We have maybe fifteen minutes before they call," Samantha said. "Maybe grab some coffee first? I have a conference room reserved so we can talk in comfort. It's a video chat. They're going to call us, on my tablet."

Julia agreed.

"One thing though," Samantha cautioned, "these are very serious minded womyn. They might say some things that make you a little... uncomfortable. Don't let it bother you too much. Okay? Try thinking of it more like a sales call. No matter what they say to you, don't admonish them. Don't challenge their beliefs either for that matter. They may have a really different way of looking at the world but it just doesn't matter. They have something we want. Don't worry about anything other than that."

"But-"

Samantha shook her head vigorously. "No buts. Just play along with them. Be nice. They want to help you. Let them. Be agreeable. Tell them what they want to hear and don't worry about the rest of it," she said definitively.

Julia felt a slight shiver travel up her spine. She wondered, what she was getting herself into but quickly decided to trust Samantha's direction on it, for now at least. It was just an initial consultation after all.

"Come on, let's grab that coffee," Samantha urged.

Samantha and Julia sat down in a small conference room with Samantha's tablet a few minutes later. It was another sterile space intended for corporate meetings, dull but private, with six office chairs tossed around a wood veneer table.

The women sat, side-by-side, on one of the long sides of the table, sipping their coffee, as they waited for the call.

Julia nervously glanced at the tablet and began to idly trace a couple of her long nails against the surface of the table as she waited for the conference to start. She grew more tense as the minutes passed away, each one bringing her closer to a discussion about feminizing her husband.

If he knew what she was doing, would he finally stand up for himself? Would she be able to force him if he refused? Did she truly want to do this? A dozen questions kept running through her mind. She didn't have answers for any of them. Julia checked the time again. Only a minute left.

She fanned her fingers out, then slowly clawed at the table, making a game of it to distract herself from the gnawing uncertainty she felt, pressing hard enough to feel the pressure at her fingers but not so hard as to break a nail.

Julia turned her hand over to admire her manicured extensions. Eric would need to learn how to maintain her nails, she decided, from the strengthening base coat, to the colorful lacquer, to the protective top coat. It was another service he could-

The tablet suddenly began playing a short symphony of repeating tones, alerting them to an incoming call. Julia just stared at the tablet, frozen.

Samantha grimaced at her nervous friend from the side, quietly disappointed at her lack of enthusiasm. Thankfully, Samantha had enough for both of them. Julia just needed a little more prodding before the idea of undermining and completely dominating Eric felt more normal and natural to her. Samantha's lips curled into a smile as she tapped on the video chat button to start the conference.

Moments later an older woman came into view, perhaps in her seventies, maybe older, sitting in what looked like a video conference room. The woman had a severe look to her, wire rimmed glasses sat upon a gaunt face, her white hair tied into a tight bun, held in place by black bobby-pins. The white lab coat she wore seemed to be embossed with the same logo depicted on the beige wall behind her - a thick trunked, gnarled tree, filled with leaves.

"Which of you is Julia Grant?" the woman asked curtly, reading from something at the table she sat at.

"That would be me," Julia said. She had stopped using Eric's last name entirely, it seemed completely improper to subordinate her identity to his. In fact, given that the marriage was female lead now, she was considering making him take her last name soon.

The woman was staring at them, silently sizing them up. It felt uncommonly penetrating, like she was examining specimens under a microscope, studying them. If it wasn't for the occasional shifting of her eyes they would have thought the video conference had frozen with some technical failure. Julia just sat there, nearly motionless, waiting for her to finish, hoping she'd pass inspection. Samantha did much the same.

"I'm Dr. Joyce," the woman finally said flatly, looking away from the camera, examining something on the desktop in front of her they couldn't see.

After all the staring and waiting, Julia had hoped for something more welcoming, something to calm and reassure her. That wasn't to be.

"Pleased to meet you," Julia said, trying to act cheery, hoping Dr. Joyce couldn't read her mood.

"Same here," Samantha chimed in, "we're really very pleased to be able to meet with you today. It's very much appreciated. We can only imagine how busy you are with the important work you're doing."

Dr. Joyce looked forward into the camera, seemingly unaffected by Samantha's eager greeting, her somber expression casting a stifling mood over the consultation. "I'm assuming you'd be Samantha Stone. Is that correct?" she asked with a detached manner.

"Yes. That would be me. I'm the one that made the initial inquiry," Samantha said, still trying to be upbeat. "Again, we wanted to thank you for making time in your schedule for us today."

Dr. Joyce arched an eyebrow on her otherwise impassive face. "Responding with a simple 'yes' was sufficient to satisfy the inquiry, Ms. Stone."

Samantha simply nodded, accepting the rebuke. Despite the obvious disdain from Dr. Joyce, Samantha had no intention of ruining the meeting for Julia.

"If either of you have any recording devices employed you will need to terminate them at this time. Consultations can not be recorded. We don't allow notes to be taken either," Dr. Joyce said firmly.

"Nothing being recorded. No notes," Samantha quickly said, wanting to be terse for the scornful doctor. "We're fine with the restrictions," she added.

Julia nodded, agreeing with Samantha, doing her best to be compliant and accepting with this seemingly clandestine group.

"Very well," Dr. Joyce said. "Now, with the pleasantries dealt with, why are you here, Ms. Grant?"

Julia arched her eyebrows in surprise and glanced towards Samantha who also seemed confused at the question. "I'm sorry, I thought this was already brought up when Samantha contacted you," Julia said as Samantha nodded, indicating that it had been.

"Yes," Dr. Joyce started. "Ms. Stone did provide sufficient details on her initial contact to us. But that's not what I asked. I want to know why you are here, Ms. Grant. I want you to tell me what you want from us, in your words.

Dr. Joyce was staring at her, waiting, watching with those piercing, unrelenting, eyes of hers. Samantha was staring too, expectantly waiting for her to say the words, waiting for her to ask them to feminize her husband.

Julia's mind began to spin. She was unprepared for a confrontation, especially with Dr. Joyce. She had wanted a simple sales pitch, a list of services from a hopeful provider, something she could casually make a decision about. That's not what this was. It was something colder, harsher. She felt like she was being tested, evaluated. She swallowed hard. Was this something she truly wanted, Eric with breasts? The question continued to churn inside her.

"Ms. Grant, I need an answer. Otherwise there's no reason to continue here," Dr. Joyce said.

Samantha urged her on, her eyes wide and intense. "Go ahead," she whispered.

"I... I want to... I want the AGen program. For my husband, Eric, to have breasts... to breastfeed our baby someday," Julia stated. She'd gotten it out, really said it. Her heart was pounding from doing it. Would this woman do it to him now? She studied the gaunt, harsh, impassive lines of Dr. Joyce with apprehension.

"You don't sound particularly certain, Ms. Grant," Dr. Joyce observed.

"I can be," Julia said, not really meaning it, questions still churning inside her.

"Ms. Grant, you must be completely committed to the program in order for your male to be considered. This is not something trivial. Your male will be altered at the genetic level, changed forever, fundamentally different than before," Dr. Joyce said.

"I understand," Julia said.

"Do you? I wonder," Dr. Joyce said eyeing her suspiciously. "In addition to mammary glands, there are also possible side effects you may want to consider. AGen can occasionally result in some general feminizing characteristics being imparted to the subject. We consider it a crossover effect that's correlated to nanite infusion and, since you will be involved with administering the infusions, you'd be the causative agent, Ms. Grant. You'd be responsible."

Julia was silent.

"Finally, like any procedure of this nature, there are risks. We consider these risks to be very low, more of a statistical anomaly; however, it must be accepted as a possible outcome of the program. So, Ms. Grant, I hope you can understand why anything less than total, unwavering commitment is simply unacceptable," Dr. Joyce asserted, the fixed glare of her eyes burning into her like the sun on a hot, cloudless day.

Julia remained silent, maintaining her composure in the face of the withering barrage from Dr. Joyce. The vile woman was trying to scare her. It was working but she didn't want her to win that easily. No, losing a negotiation wasn't how she'd gotten promoted, she reminded herself.

"Ms. Grant, a simple, meandering statement is wholly insufficient to gain access to the AGen program and the technology we have to offer. Therefore, I'll ask you again." Dr. Joyce paused, her steely eyes peering contemptuously into the camera. "Why are you here, Ms. Grant?"

Julia took a deep breath, determined to win against Dr. Joyce. As to what would actually happen to Eric, she could decide later. She wanted the AGen option for him, even if it did sound terrifying and ruinous to his masculinity.

"I apologize for sounding hesitant before," Julia began, suppressing the tremor trying to creep into her voice, "you caught me off guard, is all. I am ready to fully commit to the program, regardless what issues might come up," she said. "My husband, my male, is submissive and weak. Once I realized what he was, I took control of the marriage. I have plans for the future, plans for him to care for our babies when they come, just like a... like a womyn can. He needs breasts for that. It's really that simple. I want him to properly nurture and nourish my babies when they come."

Dr. Joyce was nodding ever so slightly as she eased back into her chair. "You understand, he'll never quite be the same," she said, making it sound like a challenge. "Not only the physical changes, mind you, but breasts on a male typically produce mental changes as well. He may experience great levels of shame resulting in anxiety and depression, as an example. He may also become even more submissive and withdrawn. He may blame you. Resent you. The spectrum of behavioral changes can be highly varied depending on the subject," she explained.

Julia decided to keep playing along. No matter what, Dr. Joyce wasn't going to scare her off. The consultation was a game, she reminded herself.

"I'm perfectly fine with whatever changes come my way. Eric will have to behave or I'll toss him to the curb," she said.

Dr. Joyce nodded again, apparently satisfied. "The male's name was Eric did you say?"

"Yes. That's correct."

"Is he transgendered, gender dysphoric, or perhaps a transvestite?"

"No, nothing like that," Julia responded. "He doesn't want breasts if that's what your asking." Julia couldn't help but let some bitterness slip into her voice. She was getting more angry at this wretched woman by the minute.

"Do you have sufficient control over your male to require and ensure compliance to the AGen program?" Dr. Joyce asked with a subtle smirk twisting over her face.

Julia dug her long nails into her palms and forced a smile onto her face as Samantha gently touched her forearm in a show of support, hoping to calm her. "He's completely dependent on me and he's becoming increasingly submissive to me every day," Julia said taking a deep breath and letting it out, hoping to compose herself. "I'll admit that I'm a little new at being a dominant over my husband but I took complete control of our marriage and him and I have no intention of letting go, none at all."

Dr. Joyce arched her eyebrows in response, her smirk deepening. She appeared unimpressed.

"He'll do whatever the hell I tell him to," Julia spat out.

The corners of Dr. Joyce's mouth ticked upwards into something resembling a smile. "I certainly hope so," she said. "The world is changing, Ms. Grant. Feminizing your male, forcing him to comply with all the AGen protocols can be a significant step forward for you. Womyn are going to need to be strong if men are to be put in their proper place. We can't allow our sympathy to cloud our judgements or commitments to womonkind. Don't you agree?"

"Yes," Julia replied quickly to be agreeable, not really knowing what she believed for certain. Samantha was nodding her assent too and then grinning, agreeing with Dr. Joyce wholeheartedly.

Looking at the smiling women around her, Julia suddenly felt out of place, even a tiny bit frightened. What was happening to her? It was like she'd unexpectedly become a member of a sisterhood intent on female supremacy. Feminizing Eric, and her participation in it, were just milestones on a much larger agenda. There was something tantalizing about it but did she truly belong here?

Dr. Joyce looked down to the table in front of her, at something out of view. Her eyes narrowed as she studied it. "You seem to have garnered sufficient support for us to move forward, Ms. Grant." Dr. Joyce looked back towards the camera, her impassive mask back in place. "We normally select womyn who are further along, who better understand the true nature of the world," Dr. Joyce said. "But, apparently, you are thought to hold some promise."

Julia smiled awkwardly. "Thank you," she offered, unsure of what to say to the scornful Dr. Joyce nor to whoever else was, almost certainly, watching her.

Dr. Joyce sat there, silent, practically sneering at Julia. Then, she backed away from the table, stood, and walked off camera without saying another word. Their camera remained on, displaying an empty room.

"Is it over? Are they agreeing to do it?" Julia whispered to Samantha.

Samantha shrugged.

A few moments later, another woman came into view at the edge of the screen. She seemed to be talking to voices off camera, in the background. It was too faint to make out anything being said. It continued like that for a bit longer before the woman finally moved in front of the camera and settled down in the chair.

She was a complete departure from the cold and steely Dr. Joyce. She was a young, attractive woman with short, blond hair and deep blue eyes. Her smile was genuine and warm. She wore a simple, rose-pastel colored, uniform which enhanced her comforting appeal.

"Good afternoon ladies," she said warmly, smiling towards them. "My name is Pamala. Let me be the first to congratulate you - your application has been accepted," she said, beaming her smile at them.

"It has?" Julia asked, surprised at how quickly things were proceeding.

"Yes, it has. In fact, I'm here to help you get started. I've been assigned as your nurse practitioner and case manager. I'll be your primary point of contact with us going forward," she said. "And before you ask, there are no fees or payments involved. AGen is part of a much larger research and development effort. Instead of paying us you'll be expected to simply follow the protocols, make time for the exams, and participate in some behavioral questionnaires. The goal is to make it as easy as possible for you. Ready to start?"

Julia gave a nodded and returned an awkward smile, wholly surprised at the sudden turn of events.

"Good. We always begin by providing a brief overview of the technology. We've found that it's important for applicants to have an understanding of how AGen works, what it does, and what you can expect," Pamala said. "You're free to ask questions during the presentation, we encourage it in fact. And, at the end, we'll talk about next steps for moving forward, so we can begin treatment of your male."

Julia nodded awkwardly again, still trying to return a genuine smile back to Pamala. She was feeling uneasy at how quickly everything was moving, like she was being pushed forward. Samantha, on the other hand, was brimming with a wide grin, seemingly content with the turn of events.

"Let me start by reading some general overview statements we've prepared for womyn new to the program." Pamala grabbed a computer tablet from the desk and began reading the prepared material.

"Andromammary Genesis, or AGen, is a set of integrated technologies which are coordinated for the purpose of rapidly provisioning, fully functional, mammary glands on the human male. AGen is a cutting edge, human enhancement technology which modifies the DNA of the male subject making mammary gland development wholly normative for their altered genotype. AGen is not related to gynecomastia which is considered a disorder in males. Instead, AGen makes the development of mammary glands a completely normal and expected secondary sexual characteristic for males." Pamala stopped reading and looked up towards the camera. "Any questions so far?"

Samantha raised her hand "Can I ask one?"

"Certainly."

"So, if I'm hearing this right, once the DNA change is made, having boobs is just as normal for a man as a womon?"

"That's correct," Pamala said with a cheery tone.

"But I thought you needed estrogen for that. How does that work?"

"From a biochemical point of view an andromammary gland requires less estrogen than those of a womon for development to take place," Pamala explained. "However, we do typically find it necessary to slightly elevate the estrogen levels of the subject and often lower their testosterone level just a bit as well. For many subjects the hormonal changes are fairly minor but it is possible to see some generalized feminizing effects when higher levels of estrogen are needed. The reduction in thick hair growth over the body or a slight reduction in muscle mass would be examples."

"That's very interesting. Thank you," Samantha said.

"Wait. Reduction in muscle mass?" Julia asked.

"It's usually a very slight reduction with standard AGen, less than ten percent when it occurs. I believe the worse case was early in the trials when standard AGen protocol produced something more consistent with female norms," Pamala responded. "Any more questions?" she asked with a smile.

Julia just shook her head. The more she heard, the more concerned she was becoming. These women really were ready to put breasts on Eric and if he ended up looking more like a woman than a man at the end of it she was certain they wouldn't care in the least.

Pamala continued, "DNA modification is augmented with nanotechnology which supports and rapidly matures the new DNA potential in the subject. Instead of waiting years for natural organic maturation, nanotechnology accelerates development by a factor of fifteen or more resulting in fully mature mammary glands, with fully mature ductal systems capable of lactation induction, in an interval of twelve to sixteen weeks standard." Pamala stopped reading off the tablet and looked into the camera again. "Questions?" she asked.

Julia shrugged. "I guess the obvious question, how big? How big do they get on him?"

Pamala smiled. "Excellent question. Everybody asks that one," she said with a humorous smile. "It depends on what you want. With AGen, for the most part, you get to decide."

"I do?" Julia asked, somewhat shocked at the answer.

"Let me explain," Pamala offered. "There's two parts that determine size. First, there's the genetic potential. That essentially determines how large they can possibly get. Secondly, there's the actual development or growth phase. That's where the nanites, the molecular sized robots, do their work to satisfy the potential that's there. Make sense so far?" she asked.

"I think so," Julia said.

"Now, let's make it simple and look at how they work together," Pamala said. "If you have a large potential and a large growth phase the subject will develop rather large breasts. That should be obvious enough. However, if either the potential is small or the growth phase is small then the subject will develop rather small breasts."

"Let me see if I understand," Samantha said. "Let's say Eric's sister and mom are small. Then, no matter how hard the nanites work, he'd be small too?" she asked.

"You have the basic idea, yes," Pamala said. "If the subject's genetic potential is to be small then you can't make them large, it isn't an option."

"How large is Eric's sister?" Samantha asked Julia.

"Average, I guess. Maybe a B-cup?" she replied.

"Then Eric could be like a B-cup," Samantha concluded.

"We'd need more family history first before we can say that with certainty," Pamala said. "But that only applies if you leave his genetic potential unaltered."

"What? You can change it?" Julia asked.

Pamala nodded with a big smile on her face. "You can leave the genetic potential of the subject unaltered. In that case, breast development will be consistent with family history," Pamala said. "Some womyn prefer that because their male can develop as if they'd been born a female. Alternatively, the subject's potential can be altered, over written for whatever size you want."

"Really?!" Julia asked astonished.

"Absolutely," Pamala nodded. "Actually, the majority of our clients do just that, change their male's potential to something larger, often much larger. Then, during the growth phase, they can decide exactly how large they want him to be. Some womyn even use the development as a form of discipline, subjecting their male to more breast growth when they misbehave."

"Seriously?!" Julia asked, shocked at the notion.

"I recommend it, in fact. Pushing his potential past his genetic norm is a good thing. Often you don't know, for sure, how large you might want him until his breasts start developing," Pamala said. "Besides, it can be fascinating to watch him struggle with the reality that his masculinity is slipping away as his breasts are getting larger and larger. A sinister smile crept onto Pamala's face. "You don't want that to end too soon."
Julia didn't know what to think about Pamala at that point. The pretty blond certainly had another side to her. If Eric only knew what this woman wanted to do to him he'd be terrified.

"How effective is the treatment? What if it fails?" Julia asked.

"So long as you follow the established protocols, that includes a number of clinical visits for exams and you properly use the training vest, the AGen program has a ninety percent probability of success. That's normal breast development and lactation in six months or less, typically much less," Pamala said. "Now, there is a small percentage of males that seem to be able to resist the retrovirus that modifies their DNA, we're working to close that gap. But, if they are resistant then nothing really happens to them at all, they're essentially immune to the treatment."

"A virus?!" Julia asked with concern, the distress deeply etched into her face.

Pamala nodded with a smile. "Yes. That's actually part of our next discussion points," she said calmly. "Let's move on to the logistics of the program. There's really very little to worry about and we'll be here to help you the entire time."

"But, are you talking about making Eric sick?" Julia asked.

"Not exactly," Pamala said. "The retrovirus might give him a fever for a few days but it isn't dangerous. It's not virulent like a flu might be. The thing is, DNA isn't something you can change with a simple pill. It's the building block that defines our very physical existence. You need something that can invade the DNA and, essentially, rewrite it. That's where the retrovirus comes in. It attaches to cells to deliver genetic material into the DNA, altering it. For a male, think of it as gene therapy, something to make their DNA more female - an upgrade."

Julia was astonished at the turn of events. A virus to invade and change Eric's DNA?! Could she really do this to him?

"It sounds fairly scary but you said it isn't dangerous right?" Samantha asked, hoping to calm the obvious distress written across Julia's otherwise beautiful face.

"That's correct," Pamala answered. "Don't think of it like a cold or flu. It's perfectly safe and we will be here to support you if any minor complications come up," she said with a calm and steady voice. "Any more questions on that for now?"

Julia shook her head while struggling to maintain the semblance of a smile, distressed about the direction the consultation had taken.

"Okay, the last thing I wanted to talk about today was what we call the training vest." Pamala tapped something in front of her and the screen switched to an image of what looked like some bizarre, black, thick rubber corset, straight out of the S&M scene, but with white domes instead of bra cups that would fully encase each breast. The image was rotating on the screen to show the entire vest, all the way around.

A few seconds later, Pamala came back into view. "You can think of it a bit like a training bra for AGen males if you wish," Pamala said with a smirk. "The vest is actually the nanite infusion system. It's what drives the growth phase of AGen. With the vest, you can control the intensity of the growth phase at any point. Essentially, it's what you use to decide how much of the subject's DNA potential is realized, or more simply, how large you want his breasts to get. Without the training vest, development would take years, and the subject would never reach their full genetic potential."

Pamala tapped in front of her again and the vest reappeared, rotating on the screen again. Julia inched a little closer for a better look. It really did look like some crazy, high-tech corset that would cover Eric from shoulders to waist in thick, constricting rubber. It looked to fastened in the back and seemed to have some locking mechanism at the collar.

Pamala reappeared suddenly. "After the DNA enhancing injection you'll be issued a training vest and shown how to operate it," Pamala said. "The AGen protocol requires the subject to wear the training vest every night before bed. It does it's work while the subject sleeps and can be removed in the morning."

"Can she keep him in it full time?" Samantha asked with a grin.

Pamala smiled back at the suggestion. "Actually, if you want, it can be left on for a number of days without removal but you will need to remove it to recharge the battery packs every three or four days," Pamala said. "If you wait too long you won't be able to disengage the retention system since it needs power to open the locks. It's constructed with layers of advanced materials to make it very sturdy and tough. You can't cut through it. Once it's on and locked, it's nearly impossible to remove until it's unlocked. If you lose battery power you'll need to contact me to get it removed."

Julia wondered how Eric might react if she insisted he wear the exotic looking training vest. Given that it was basically some high-tech corset for breast development, she imagined he'd lock himself in the bathroom, completely distraught and desperate at the prospect of wearing it.
"That's the basic overview, just enough to familiarize you with the technology and how AGen works. Any more questions on any of it?," Pamala asked.

Neither Julia or Samantha had any. Samantha seemed perfectly content and unconcerned, she was looking off in the distance, contemplating something with a soft smile gracing her lips. She almost looked like she'd just been shopping and was imagining herself at a gala in a new gown she'd just bought.

Julia was in total contrast to her, looking distraught despite her best attempts to conceal it. Now that she understood the reality of it better, it just seemed to be too much, too extreme.

"Okay, if there's no more questions, our next step is to schedule the initial exam," Pamala said. "We're going to need to see Eric as soon as possible. We need to give him a complete physical to make sure AGen is safe for him and we need some genetic material in order to develop the retrovirus for DNA alteration. He also needs a 3D imaging scan to fit him for his training apparatus," Pamala said.

Julia nodded, again forcing a smile onto her face.

"Would you like to setup the appointment now or contact me to coordinate it," Pamala asked.

Julia swallowed and cleared her throat, her mind swirling with uncertainty. "I think I'll need to contact you. I'm not sure exactly what my schedule is at the moment. And I'm not sure about Eric... I-"

"This needs to be scheduled soon, Julia," Pamala said. "We're here to help you. Experience has taught us that delays won't help you get the positive results that AGen can deliver for you. Commitment is the best approach."

"I understand," Julia said.

Pamala turned her head slightly away from the camera, her attention drawn away to something to the side of her, off camera. Julia could hear the indiscernible voices in the background again. Did one of the voices belong to Dr. Joyce?

"A courier will deliver a package to you, at your office, with some more details about the program, including contact information to setup the initial exam. I hope to hear from you soon," Pamala said. She then flashed a tense smile at Julia, betraying some irritation then pushed away from the table and walked away.

Thinking the conference was finally over, Julia was about to drop the connection when she saw Dr. Joyce walking back into view. Hands clasped behind her back, Dr. Joyce leaned over the chair and table like a cobra until her face was directly in front of the camera, filling the screen.

"Ms. Grant?"

Julia just stared at Dr. Joyce, not wanting to acknowledge her, hoping she'd just leave and drop the video conference. She didn't.

"Ms. Grant?"

"Yes?" Julia responded reluctantly.

"Don't disappoint us, Ms. Grant". The connection dropped immediately after the admonition. Julia felt a shiver run up her spine. She was frightened by it. What had she gotten herself into?

With the consultation over, Samantha swiveled her chair towards Julia with questioning eyes, waiting on her to break the silence, hoping that she was ready to move forward with Eric's transformation.

But, Julia seemed to be almost in a state of shock instead, her eyes, opened wider than normal, were still locked on the tablet they'd been using for the conference.

Samantha reached out and gently touched Julia's hand in a show of support and compassion. It seemed to break Julia out of the trance as she jerked slightly from the touch and slowly turned to face her. Samantha smiled ever so gently towards Julia, hoping to settle her and soften the mood.

"So, what do you think?" Samantha asked, almost in a whisper.

Julia took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Honestly, Dr. Joyce scares me Sam. And, it's a lot to take in," she said. "I mean, up to now, AGen was just talk. I'm not sure I truly believed it was even possible. Not really. Not until just now," Julia admitted, as a subtle, brooding pout appeared as she considered the harsh reality of the situation. "If I actually did this to Eric it really would irrevocably change things between us. There'd be no going back. Not ever."

"Probably not," Samantha said softly, shrugging. "The bigger question is if he'd do it. Can you talk him into it? Maybe make him do it?" Samantha asked, struggling to keep her excitement at the idea under control. She didn't want to appear to thrilled at the prospect, not yet anyway.

"Maybe," Julia said. She fixated on Samantha's painting, the woman warrior, to draw some resolve as she talked. "If you told me, a week ago, that I'd be considering put breasts on my husband I'd have thought you were crazy or something. Everything has been moving so fast," she said as she stared at the painting. "Ever since I discovered Eric's lies, all those pictures from that game... So much has changed," she said. "Even me," she added under her breath.

Samantha furrowed her brow, unsure of her beautiful friend's feelings and intentions. She seemed to be wavering. "Is that a yes then? You can make him do it?" she asked cautiously.

Julia changed her focus from the painting to Samantha. "You've been so tied up with the restructure we haven't had a chance to talk," Julia said. "I took control, Sam," she said with a hint of pride. "I told Eric that our marriage was going to be female lead from now on."

Samantha's mouth gaped open. "Julia, that's fantastic! I can't tell you how happy that makes me."

Julia nodded with a self satisfying smile but it was quickly replaced by the earlier brooding pout again.

Samantha reached her hand out and lightly touched Julia's forearm. "Everything okay?" she asked concerned.

Julia flashed a quick smile to Samantha then just as quickly returned to her pouty demeanor. "It's just that it's such a permanent thing," Julia said. "Eric with boobs for the rest of his life? Lactating?!" Julia shook her head. "I've been pretty hard on him for the last few days, training him for his new job as our homemaker-"

"Wait a second!," Samantha interrupted. "His new job is being your homemaker!?"

Julia nodded. "I even have him hand washing my panties today," she said.

"Oh, that's just delicious," Samantha said gleefully. "You go girl!"

Julia couldn't help but smile at the praise but she was still feeling too uneasy to really enjoy it.

"If you don't mind me saying, from everything you've told me about Eric, he should feel grateful to scrub your panties," Samantha said. "What you're doing with Eric is wonderful! No question about that," Samantha declared firmly.

"Then why do I feel so... guilty all of a sudden?" Julia asked sullenly.

"Well, anytime we have major changes in our lives we can feel uncertainty or get anxious," Samantha suggested. "Even good changes can be stressful and upset us."

"Maybe, but..." Julia grimaced and shook her head. "I can't help wondering about what I'm doing. I mean, I just had a very serious talk with some type of medical group about putting breasts, female breasts, on my husband!" she blurted out.

Samantha smiled uncomfortably at her distraught friend then got up and gently closed the door of the office before returning to her chair. "Just thought we should have some privacy," she said delicately.

Julia shook her head slowly, troubled. "What am I doing, Sam?" she asked, staring at her for an answer.

Samantha looked at Julia with soft eyes and a calming smile as she reached out and gently grasped her friend's hand. Their fingers looked so beautiful together, the bright color of their nails intertwining like art work. The beauty of two womyn together was awe inspiring, Samantha thought. It was totally clear, to her, that they belonged together. "It's okay, Julia," she said reassuringly.

But everything wasn't okay, Samantha realized. So many months of work on Julia might be on the line, all the groundwork she'd laid, all the articles she'd sent, all the discussions, all the efforts to undermine Julia's marriage with Eric was all at risk. If Julia was distraught enough over AGen she might let up on Eric, maybe even decide to dissolve her FLM.

She leaned in towards Julia. "Trust me when I tell you, everything you've done is fine," Samantha said with sincerity. "And there's nothing wrong with considering AGen either, Honey." Her tone and manner were calm and supportive despite the growing fear that she could lose Julia. It was something that couldn't be allowed to happen, it was simply intolerable.

Samantha sensed a deep connection to Julia, certainly physical, but more than that too. There was chemistry there, Samantha was sure of it. Nothing was going to stop her from having Julia, certainly not some weak male that Julia had mistakenly married. All those years of indoctrination by the patriarchy had left her understandably confused. She needed help and support. Eric, on the other hand, was an obstacle. He needed to be moved out of the way or marginalized to irrelevance. Watching Julia put him under her thumb and then watching her put boobs on him would be something to savor.

Julia was shaking her head, lost in thought, clearly still upset with the meeting with Dr. Joyce and Pamala.

"I understand your concerns," Samantha said. "Those womyn were pretty intense, even to me. But don't let it upset you. I think they're just... very committed. They take it all very seriously."

"They certainly do," Julia said, nodding in agreement.

Samantha regarded Julia closely. She wanted to move cautiously to rebuild her confidence, convince her, womon to womon, that she belonged to the superior sex and that Eric should be grateful to have her lead him, even more grateful if she made him suckle her future daughters. The more men put in their place the better the world would be.

"It's a different age, Julia," Samantha said gently. "We're not bound by the old rules or beliefs anymore. Womyn are finally breaking away from the chains that men have put on us for centuries. We're taking our power back, assuming our natural roles as leaders. It's something to be embraced," she said. "Don't you believe the world would be a better place if womyn were in charge of it all?"

Julia shrugged as she considered it. "I don't know. It's not like all the world's problems would get solved overnight or anything. But, I think maybe it would get better, with the right women. I guess so. Yes," she finally concluded, nodding her head.

"Of course, it would," Samantha said. "Oh, I'm sure there's some genuinely good men out there but they seem so few and far between. All that testosterone... Maybe in ancient times we needed all that aggression and competition but it's archaic now. Too often males can't control it, makes them act like fools or worse. Always competing with each other. Always fighting to be king of the hill. Those men, the not so good ones, and that's most of them, actually need a strong womon leading them. It's good for them. They need us even if they don't want to accept the truth of it. And, from everything you've told me about Eric, I'm sorry to say, he doesn't really sound like one of the good ones."

Julia shook her head subtly. "No," Julia admitted. "At one time, I thought he was a better type of man," Julia said wistfully. "But he really has let me down, like every other man I've ever been with," she added with exasperation, her face tightening with disappointment, frustration and anger.

It was a perfect opportunity to remind Julia of Eric's transgressions, Samantha thought, to reignite her anger and quench whatever sympathies she had towards him. "Don't forget, he's the man that expected you to do all the cooking and cleaning even though he was sitting at home all day," Samantha said. "He expected you to earn all the money and be his maid too!"

Julia grimaced as she remembered back to when Eric had first lost his job, her pretty, red lips contorting from the memories. Samantha had been the one to help her understand that he needed to pitch in with the housework, that it wasn't just 'womyn's work'. Samantha had really helped her challenge the gender role expectations she'd been taught, helped her see how archaic they were.

"And didn't you say Eric had started drinking?" Samantha asked, rubbing more salt in the wound, already knowing the answer.

Julia nodded slowly, the grimace still on her face. "Men and alcohol don't mix well together," Julia said as her frustrations and anger grew. She thought back to some of the monsters she had dated before Eric who would get drunk and turn violent.

Samantha arched her eyebrows at Julia's comment, it made her wonder if there was more history there she wasn't aware of, something else to leverage. "You have to wonder where Eric is headed with all his drinking," Samantha said. "I mean, without you there to guide him, where would he end up?" she asked. "Another drunk looking for answers in the bottom of a bottle? Something worse perhaps?"

Julia shrugged. "Hard to say for sure," Julia intoned, the words sounding hollow and detached as she distanced herself from old wounds.

"True. Alcohol abuse does strange things to people. Sometimes terrible things," Samantha suggested. "When you think about it, he's very fortunate that you took over the marriage. You put an end to his drinking. You can give him a better future," she urged with what sincerity she could muster.

Julia nodded.

"Didn't you say that it was like he'd regressed to childhood after losing his job? That he wanted you to be his mommy?"

Julia nodded.

"He stopped looking for work," Samantha began, "because he got addicted to a computer game and he lied to you about it so you'd keep working to support his habits?"

Julia nodded as she dug her nails into her palm, hoping the pain would distract her from her anger.

"Seems to me you did the only thing you could with starting the FLM, Honey," Samantha said earnestly. "You have a man that lost his identity when he lost his job and regressed, became more like a child. He took advantage of you, lied to you, expected you to support him and care for your home while he sat back playing games and drinking beer all the time." Samantha's indictment was recited with fervor, she wanted to build a sense of righteous indignation in Julia, even zealotry. "Everything you've done is right and proper. With a man like that, you need to be in total control. For that matter, even if he doesn't realize it, even if he resists you, he needs you in control too," she asserted, pointing her finger at Julia to reinforce the point.

Julia sat back in her chair with fury in her eyes. "You're right," she said, lifting her hands and dropping them in resignation. "You're right." The sense of empowerment, that was becoming evermore familiar, began flowing through her again.

Samantha smiled, nodding her head in agreement. "The way I see it, we're entering a new age. Men had their turn to lead and the world is a total mess. It's a time for womyn to lead and a time for men to follow us into a better future. It's our turn. And some men, like Eric, are better suited for taking on the traditional role that womyn were assigned, for centuries, by men. Having him develop breasts to nourish a child only makes sense at that point," she said matter-of-factly. "If he's going to be a homemaker and caretaker for children, for infants, he needs breasts for that. He can't properly suckle a child otherwise."

Julia nodded with genuine interest. As usual, Samantha was opening her mind to new, exciting, possibilities.

"He might find breasts dramatic at first, maybe even distressing," Samantha said. "Since AGen isn't common yet, that's probably a normal reaction. You might be feeling some of that too. But science and technology has made it possible to transcend old, traditional ideas about gender. Those old ideas are archaic now, they no longer apply in the modern world we live in. Besides, they come from a patriarchal mindset intent on keeping womyn barefoot and pregnant. The same mindset which devalues and demeans womyn," Samantha's said with fervor. "It's not valid and it simply must be challenged!"

Julia nodded, taking it in, welcoming the bold statements, her sense of pride at being a strong, independent woman building as Samantha spoke.

"You can make a very powerful and positive statement, Julia. A man developing breasts so he can breastfeed his wife's daughter? It's a tremendously powerful validation for womonkind," she said with enthusiasm. "And, it would be something Eric could take great pride in too. Something that would prove he'd evolved and matured as a person, as a human being. That's not just talking about fairness and equality, it's making it real, in a committed, permanent way for everybody to see. You can make that happen for him. It's a great opportunity for both of you," Samantha said with conviction.

Julia considered it, nodding her head. "Maybe you're right," she said slowly. "I... hadn't really looked at it that way but I think you're right."

"It's understandable. There's a lot to take in and think about," Samantha said. "Someday I think it'll be considered normal, maybe even mainstream. Truly, if I could, I'd put breasts on every man in the world. Maybe make some of them more caring people." Samantha shrugged with indifference. "If nothing else, if men had to struggle with boobs, I bet we'd get more comfortable bras!"

The women shared a laugh as Samantha pinched her bra straps giving them a couple upward tugs while pretending to be in distress. She adjusted the band quickly afterwards, having tugged a bit too hard in her mock display and the women laughed again at the silliness of it all.

Still laughing, Julia imagined what Eric might look like doing the same thing, standing in front of a mirror in an underwire bra, the cups bulging over to contain his breasts as he struggled with the straps and band trying to make himself comfortable. As she thought about it, she realized she really could look at the idea of Eric with breasts in two different ways - the old way that made it wrong because of strict gender roles and stereotypes, or a modern way oriented on needs, equality and fairness. If science could overcome the limitation for men then why not? Why shouldn't he have boobs? Just because she developed breasts in adolescence didn't mean he couldn't now.

Julia was feeling better, stronger, more convinced than ever that she was on the right path with Eric. Samantha's insights had been invaluable, as usual. "I'm going to do it," Julia said firmly. "I'm not sure how yet exactly but I am going to put breasts on Eric. He's going to have them and I'm going to watch him suckle my baby someday." Julia looked determined, holding her head high as she sat upright in the chair, like she was ready to do battle. "I'll tell you something else, I think your also maybe right about the patriarchal mindset. It's always been there. I think maybe it's clouded my thinking a lot over the years."

Samantha was brimming with so much excitement she was practically shaking. Julia was recommitted, back on plan, evolving, and no longer wasting her sympathies on Eric. He was going to be subordinated, feminized and moved out of her way. Maybe, ultimately, losing some of his maleness might even be good for him she rationalized, not that she really cared. She wanted him out of the way and Julia was going to do it.

"Don't let up on him, Julia," Samantha urged.

Julia nodded knowingly.

"For awhile, at least, you're going to have to be very firm with him, more than you've been already I suspect," Samantha said.

"I know," Julia said, her pretty red lips twisting into a sinister looking half-smile. "I've thought about that very thing before," Julia said. "I have some ideas."

"You're probably going to have to make him more...," Samantha searched for the proper word, "submissive," she said. "Maybe a lot more submissive before he agrees to AGen."

"Yes, I think you're right." Julia's smile broadened a bit as she stared off into space considering what she might do to Eric. For his own good, she was going to need to break him, destroy his male ego. She intended to have some naughty fun at his expense.

"I think I have a few articles on how to retrain a male, reprogram him. I'll send them to you," Samantha said.

Julia looked back towards Samantha with relief, the burden of worry having been lifted. "Thanks Sam, I'll be happy to take whatever you have," Julia said as lightly as if they'd been discussing sales figures. "Even if it's a little over the top, please don't hesitate sending it."

"Absolutely, I will."

"Good, I want everything I can get."

"Hey, know what?" Samantha said changing the tone. "They're still working on your new office and I have to get all your paperwork submitted today before everything is official. Why don't you head home early."

Julia nodded. "All things considered, I think that's a great suggestion," she said with a smile. "It's been a trying afternoon. Lunch tomorrow?"

"Absolutely," Samantha said with a broad smile.

"Great," Julia said as she stood up to leave. "I'll look forward to it." She turned to go but before taking a single step she turned back towards Samantha. "Thanks Sam," she said with affection. "You really helped me see the truth of my situation with Eric. You really are a great friend."

"You're very welcome. Anytime at all. I mean that," Samantha replied.

Julia beamed Samantha another glorious smile, gracefully turned back towards the door, and walked away, her ass moving rhythmically with every step in the gorgeous heels she wore.

Samantha watched her move down the hall, coveting every inch of her graceful, lovely form until she turned a corner and dropped out of sight. Every moment she spent with Julia convinced her all the more that she'd do whatever was needed to have her. It might take time and Eric might suffer but she really didn't care. Samantha shrugged with indifference considering it and turned to look at her painting. Men had committed crimes against womyn for centuries - payback was a bitch.

CHAPTER NINE
Freefall

Given the hour, the drive home had been fairly quick for Julia. She gathered her things, left the car, and began ambling down the walk to their building. She was curious to discover how good a job Eric had done cleaning her panties. It was another step down for him, something to reinforce his submission to her and to further acclimate him to the job as their homemaker. Besides, there was just something delicious about forcing a man to hand wash her panties. She would have to prepare an extra nasty pair for him to wash sometime. She smiled to herself as she entered the building and began walking up the stairs.

The consultation had run through her mind over and over again on the way home. There was no question that Dr. Joyce and Pamala left her with a queasy feeling. There was something disquieting about them but what they were offering was too rich to pass up. It was the answer to all her problems and Eric had earned what was happening to him now. Besides, feminizing Eric would be improving him, evolving him, she told herself. It was something to celebrate, not feel guilt over. The nagging whispers of doubt in the back of her mind simply needed to be ignored, quieted in favor of more enlightened thinking. Like Samantha had said, it was a new age. It was a time for womyn to lead. Everything she was doing to Eric was right and proper. If anything, he needed more structure, more demands, more discipline and control from her not less.

As she reached the door to their apartment she was looking forward to doing an inspection. If anything was out of place she planned on being harsh with him tonight. He needed to be taken down another notch or two. Pushed further into submission. The only question was, what to do to him next?

Julia keyed the door and pushed on it only to have it immediately stopped.

"What the...."

The door was blocked by something in the entryway, inside the apartment, behind the door. She furrowed her brow in confusion then pushed, putting her back into it, teetering on her heels, forcing it open. Slowly, whatever was there gave way, sliding back as she struggled. Eventually, the door was open enough and she squeeze through into the apartment.

Finally inside, she angrily smoothed out her outfit and hair then dug her nails into her palms at the sight of the problem - Eric's suitcase and travel bag were on the floor behind the door, packed to the point of bulging. It could only mean one thing - Eric was crazy enough to think he could leave her. It was outrageous! Julia's eyes narrowed as she imagined her weak husband deciding to defy her authority over him. She had no intention of allowing that to happen.

Julia's face twisted with anger as she quietly closed the door and moved forward into the apartment, walking gingerly in her heels, inching forward, toe-to-heel, quietly. She hoped to confront Eric without warning, wanted to see the reaction when he suddenly saw her standing there, wanted to hear him fumble around for some delusional explanation.

The apartment was a mess. She grit her teeth at the sight of it. The kitchen table had the remains of a meal and multiple snacks disgracefully scattered about. A dirty plate sat there with smears of tomato paste and disgusting bits of greasy looking cheese covering it, practically ready to fall to the floor. Next to it, a couple of twisted, empty wrappers from frozen deserts were abandoned. A mostly-full bag of microwave popcorn was there too, half burnt, stinking up the area. In the middle of the table was an open bag of potato chips, partially spilled and scattered about. The scene was offensive and filthy! Eric knew better! It wasn't allowed! Clear and obvious evidence of defiance, even contempt. It was a disgusting, vermin inviting mess that he must have intended to leave for her to clean up!

Even worse than all of that though were the two empty beer bottles on the counter, sitting next to the kitchen sink. Alcohol. He'd been drinking again. There was another empty on the dinning room table and, as she looked further, still more that could be seen abandoned on the patio.

Julia's fingers curled into fists. Her nails bit down hard leaving indentations behind in both palms and the beginnings of numerous small bruises. The pain made her all the more furious.

Then, a noise came from the back of the apartment, from the computer room. She took a few more steps towards the sound then noticed, shockingly, right at the doorframe of the bedroom, a pair of her panties laying on the floor. She couldn't fathom what they were doing there and was fairly certain they weren't even among the ones Eric was told to wash. What had he been up to?

One foot in front of the other, quietly, Julia moved further down the hall. As she closed on the computer room and bedroom, both doors opposite each other in the back of the apartment, she peered into the bedroom and discovered, shockingly, that her bras and panties were strewn all over the floor! She could hardly believe what she was seeing! It wasn't a single pair of panties. It was everything she owned! Bras, panties, nighties, everything! It had to be some absurd act of rebellion on Eric's part! Julia seethed at the contemptible attack on her, it was nothing short of that. She intended to make him pay dearly for this outrage, maybe make his boobs so huge he'd never disrespect a bra ever again!

Just a few more steps forward and she stood at the doorway to the computer room. There he was, with his back to the door. Julia grinned widely with grim satisfaction. Her fingers flexed. She felt like a cat that had cornered a plump mouse. He stood next to the computer desk with a plastic crate on it filled with comic books. He was leafing through a comic, quickly flipping the pages. A small stack of them sat off to the side. It looked like he was picking out favorites to take with him, likely the ones with the most buxom heroines, Julia thought. Perhaps soon he'd have something in common with those oversexed, male fantasies. Why bother looking at comic book cleavage when you could play with your own boobs after all?

She took a couple more quiet steps forward. She was in the room now, getting closer to her prey, glaring at him with an intense and enveloping rage, waiting for him to realize she was behind him.

He flipped a few more pages, his back still to the door, oblivious, then something changed. He looked at his watch nervously, checked it, then checked it again. He put his hand to the back of his neck, like maybe he sensed he was being watched, shrugged his shoulders a few times then suddenly twisted all the way around. His eyes went wide with shock as he took in Julia, his jaw went slack, and some vague noise came out of his throat, like a thought was trying to emerge but he said nothing.

"What's the matter, Eric?" she said with a patronizing tone, with her rage writhing just below the surface. "Cat got your tongue?"

Standing there, practically frozen, his blood pressure spiked before his stern wife. A curious, pained expression overtook Eric's face. There was no way she could have missed his luggage, he realized, or the mess he intended to leave her. All at once he felt riddled with shame and embarrassment, like a child that had been caught by his mother in some terrible and stupid lie. He began to stammer unintelligibly but was abruptly cutoff.

"What exactly do you think you're doing, Eric?!" Julia asked acidly, any pretense of calm now gone.

He began to stammer gibberish again, stumbling for words then just stopped. Lies weren't going to help. Julia wasn't stupid. He swallowed hard and stared at her, wishing he was anywhere else at that moment. This wasn't what he had planned at all. It was supposed to be independence day, escape. He was supposed to be gone before she got home. He glanced at his watch again, it finally clicked in. She had come home early from work! He should have left hours ago! Why had he waited so long?

"Well? Answer me, Eric!" Julia pushed. "Your fragile male ego too weak to deal with a strong woman? Planning to walk away from your marriage like a coward? Is that it? Trashing our home to hurt me?" Her eyes burned into him as deeply as her words.
Eric felt diminished next to her. She exuded a fearless confidence in her rage yet she was still crushingly beautiful, maybe even more so for some warped reason. He didn't know what to do, the indecision was paralyzing him.

"I expect an answer, Eric!"

"I... don't know...," he started, then opened his mouth again but said nothing, his face consumed by a vague, confounded expression like he'd somehow lost the power of speech.

"Then let's get more specific," Julia spat out. "We're you planning on walking out on our marriage? Were you? Walk out on me?! Betray me?!"

Eric swallowed hard, afraid to tell her the truth and even more afraid to lie to her. He let his eyes fall down to her smooth, perfect legs, her trim ankles, then finally to her feet and the sexy pumps gracing them. It felt safer to stare at her feet than look into the eyes of his fiery wife.

"Well?!" she demanded.

He couldn't say the words, instead, he simply nodded, feebly confirming the truth.

"How dare you!" she spat. Julia's expression soured further with disgust and rage. Lies had to be dancing through his weak mind, she decided, silly notions of male privilege and pride.

Eric simply accepted the rebuke, eyes down, nodding again.

Her mood continued to darken the more she looked at him. She was getting too damn angry to think straight anymore.

"Get Out," Julia said with searing contempt in her voice, the words emboldening her now that they were out. How dare he trash their home and even consider walking out on her! She glared at him, seething with more fury than she could ever remember and the more she thought about it the angrier she got. "Get out, Eric! Consider yourself cut off! Permanently! From everything! You can live out of your car for all I care! Until they repossess it, because you can be damn sure I'm not going to be making your car payment anymore!" Julia quickly closed the distance between them and slammed both hands into his chest to underscore the point. "You'll probably end up homeless, begging for beer money from strangers! That's your future without me! You want to leave? I'm done with you!"

Eric looked up with confusion and fear spreading across his face. A marked difference from the resolve and certainty in Julia's. He wasn't prepared for this. No Julia? That's not... No! That's not what he wanted! None of it! Somehow, in the back of his mind, he imagined that leaving would make her regret losing him, that she'd want him back, that maybe the old Julia would even return. But that wasn't happening at all. He was about to lose her, really lose her. He'd be empty, lost without her!

"Well, go already!" Julia screamed, her otherwise beautiful face contorted with an ugly rage, the words striking Eric's ears like sledgehammers, making him flinch. "Take your bags and get out!"

She grabbed the crate of comic books and swiftly hurled it towards the hallway. The crate flew through the open door, flipped over and struck the far wall sending comics flying in every direction. An instant later, her hands seized the small pile of comics he'd picked out and flung the entire stack over his head. Eric's treasured comics were on the floor, everywhere, a few landing as far as their bedroom to mix with Julia's bras and panties. "You can pick up your titty comics and take them with you if you care about them so much!" she hissed.

Julia moved even closer, standing mere inches from Eric, close enough for him to smell the exotic scent of perfume mixing with her heat and sweat. He withered in her presence, as if he was standing too close to a roaring fire, the heat and flames threatening to burn him. He tried retreating but the computer table pressed into his back leaving him feeling hemmed in, with Julia standing firmly between him and the door. He stood there quaking inside, unable to evade her, unable to avoid her. He didn't dare so much as touch her either, couldn't push past her, it would be the end of them as a couple, he just knew it would.

"Well? What are you waiting for?!" Julia yelled, bringing him to look into her eyes, making him cringe.

"I..." Eric wavered, trying to put his thoughts and feelings together. He had weakened considerably inside, his resolve to leave melting away like ice cubes thrown into a furnace. A shutter ran up his body. There was a war brewing inside between what he knew he should do and the deep, compelling desire to be caught up in all the fury and fire and drama and beauty that was Julia. He felt transfixed by her suddenly, caught up in her aura, enthralled by her and every curve of that magnificent body. It was like she'd cast a spell on him.

Julia stood there reveling in the power flowing through her. She could see timidity creeping into Eric more and more, his posture and face betraying his doubts and fears. He was practically trembling before her. It was a pivotal moment between them, another point in time that would define them and their marriage.

As the decision enveloped them, the room grew strangely quiet, almost like time itself had stopped. Neither of them moved, the tension became nearly unbearable. Another shutter ran up Eric's spine, enough to make him twitch. It seemed to break the oddness surrounding them. He closed his eyes trying to minimize the eviscerating stare from his wife. His legs felt rubbery suddenly. "Can't I...," he began, stopping as deeply turbulent emotions sweep through him. "Can't I stay?" he asked, with a small, weak voice.

Julia shook her head in disbelief. "Stay?!" she asked, astonishment evident in her voice. "After all this?! After you trashed the apartment and packed your bags?! After the deliberate disrespect to me?! The betrayal?!" Julia paused, staring at him with utter contempt, knowing she had the upper hand and that Eric had just surrendered and doomed himself.

He started to say something but stopped. Inside, part of him was screaming to push past her, grab the bags at the door, and simply leave but he couldn't. In his heart he knew it was wrong to stay but he just couldn't gather the resolve to leave her.

"I asked you a question, Eric!" Julia yelled, demanding an answer. "After all of this, do you really want to stay? Because, there's going to be a serious price to pay if you do!" Julia poked the long nail of her index finger into his chest underscoring the point.

Eric stared at her for a moment, then swallowed hard and nodded, his head bobbing with puny little dips. "Yes. I'd... Please. I do want to stay with you," he said, almost in a whisper.

Julia's expression shifted, a deep satisfying smirk replacing the rage fueled scowl, the corners of her pretty lips turning up in marked satisfaction. She was still filled with bitterness and outrage but she had him right where she wanted him and he was going to pay dearly.

"If I do allow you to stay, Eric," Julia said imperiously, "things are going to have to seriously change. And I mean - seriously!"

Eric nodded with uncertainty, afraid of what was coming, waiting for his fate to be announced.
"You're going to have to fully embrace the fact that this," she pointed her finger like a dagger, back and forth between them a couple times," is a female lead marriage from now on and forever." Julia leaned forward, getting directly in his face. "And you're obviously not the female."

Eric shook his head timidly, acknowledging the truth of it - he was only the male, something less than her.

"I lead. You follow," she said firmly, "In everything. Understand?"

Eric decided to play it safe and meekly nodded before her, tacitly accepting her terms, at least for now. Until he could find a way out of the mess he'd gotten himself into it seemed the only way to keep Julia.

She looked at him suspiciously, his tepid response anything but convincing. "Say it, Eric," she demanded. "Tell me that you fully accept my authority over you. I want to hear the words from your mouth."

Eric's eyes went wide. Julia was breaking his heart. Where was this going to lead? He opened his mouth but the words stuck in his throat.

"This is very simple, Eric. If you can't do this I'll toss your bags over the balcony and kick you out myself! Now, tell me that you accept my authority over you!"

He dropped his eyes back to her feet as his face was gripped in a mask of sorrow. He took a deep breath and raised his eyes. "I... do," Eric said struggling to get the words out, part of him dying inside as they left his mouth.

Julia's eyes were hard. He looked away. "Not enough!" Julia said firmly. "I don't want any misunderstandings. Consider it your new vow for our marriage. You need to accept what you've become. I want to hear it out of your own mouth. You need to make it real. Now, say the words! Tell me that you accept my authority over you!" she demanded.

The tension in the room was intense, palpable. Eric's lip quivered. "I... I fully... accept," he began with a quavering voice, "your authority... over... me."

"Again, Eric! The whole thing, with conviction this time."

His face still filled with sorrow, he took a deep, troubled breath, then submitted to her demand. "I fully accept your authority over me," he said in a loud whisper.

"Again! Louder!"

"I fully accept your authority over me, Julia!" He said it decisively staring at her stilettos the entire time, his face twisting into self-loathing and disgust at being so weak.

The room went quiet.

Julia smiled, forcing Eric to look her in the eyes by pushing his forehead back with the nail of her index finger.

He shuttered with utter shame but also with a perverse sense of thrill at his dominant, sexually powerful wife.

"Strip, Eric!" she shouted suddenly, breaking the silence.

The word struck like a resounding clap of thunder, snapping his head up. Julia's eyes were locked on him with nothing but a chilling, uncompromising resolve.

He began to unbutton his shirt, slowly at first, then quickening the pace as she continued to glare at him.

"Hurry up, Eric. Pants too, get them off."

He worked one button after another, top to bottom, yanking at them, the last one being torn off in haste, tumbling to the floor. The shirt unceremoniously followed as a wadded up ball tossed to the side. He knew it was wrong to obey so blindly but didn't know how to stop. Julia's eyes tightened all the more, waiting for him to finish. His heart was pounding, temples throbbing, her glare urging him on. He undid his belt with a few quick motions then, with nervous fingers, undid the closure on his pants and pulled the zipper down. In a quick motion, he pushed the pants down, dropping them to pool at his feet. He stood there in only socks and underwear, at attention, panic settling in while his engorged cock forcefully tented out his underwear.

"Now your socks!"

Eric quickly complied, feeling all the more vulnerable, standing there in only his absurdly tented, cotton briefs, trembling before the woman he had been foolish enough to think he could walk away from.

She stood there facing him, hands on lovely, rounded hips, proud, powerful, standing tall in her stilettos, with a fierce expression. A couple of quick kicks sent his pants and socks flying to join Eric's shirt off to the side.

"Get on your knees! Submit to me!" she yelled, her dagger like index finger pointing to the ground in front of her.

Eric wasn't sure how much more degradation and shame he could take. He looked down to where she pointed and agonized inside; yet, at the same time, his cock hardened all the more, aching to touch her glorious body or be touched by her. How could he be so twisted inside, he wondered painfully. The very idea of kneeling at his wife's gorgeous feet and pointy stilettos was somehow tremendously exciting. But, what kind of weak, fool of a man was he? A man was not supposed to want this! He should refuse and get angry and-

"NOW!" Julia yelled, striking her stiletto on the floor.

The command startled Eric, silencing his thoughts and something inside just gave way, broke. His knees bent ever so slightly, then slowly, his will to object diminishing, inch by inch, he lowered himself to the floor before Julia. The shame of the submission washed over him at the realization of what he had just done but it was too late. There was no taking it back. Hunching over, defeated, he glued his eyes to her feet, unable to look up to the dominant woman above, his cock sticking out obscenely as he knelt.

"Closer! Stay on your knees!" Julia demanded as she pointed straight down towards her feet.

Cringing before her, Eric began sliding forward, one knee before the other, each movement feeling more humiliating than the last until she unexpectedly grabbed him by the hair, jerking at it to halt him, patting him on the scalp afterwards like one might do to an obedient pet.

Eric was on the verge of tears at the conflict inside, fighting soul weeping despair while, at the same time, struggling against the gnawing arousal and betrayal of his own body, his erection getting so stiff it was becoming painful. Julia was pulling him apart inside, changing him into something he had never considered possible. Only one thing was clear anymore - he wasn't the man he had imagined himself to be. Kneeling before his wife, he wasn't sure what he was anymore.

A self-satisfying smile consumed Julia's face as she looked down at Eric. She had done it! Made him kneel and submit to her! That intoxicating feeling of power washed over her again, stronger than ever before. There was no turning back for her now. He was firmly on her hook and he was going to stay there. Once she tore away his masculine identity and feminized him there'd be no place for him to go anyway. What woman would have him after that?

"I think you need to fully appreciate your new place in our marriage, Eric," Julia cooed as she ran her fingers through his hair with indifference. She leaned over to his ear, her lips brushing against it. "You've been living a lie for far too long thinking of yourself as my equal," she whispered. "Be honest with yourself, Eric. You're not. You need to accept that and you need to learn your place," she whispered tightening her grip on his hair. "It's at my feet." She stood straight up after that and looked him over, taking delight in his submission. "If you really want to stay, expect to be spending a lot of time on your knees from now on," she said derisively.

His head dipped down even more, tears ever closer as he struggled to find himself, wishing for all the world that Julia would walk away, give him a chance to make sense of what had just happened to him but she had no intention of being so easy with him.

Julia pulled back on his hair instead, forcing him to look up, brushing his nose against her skirt. She brought both hands back to her hips then started gliding them provocatively downward until they were near the hem of her skirt. She pinched both sides of it between her fingers. Slowly, she pulled upwards, the skirt inching it's way up lovely, soft thighs as Eric's cock ached to see more. He couldn't help but watch as the hem moved higher and higher, revealing more and more of what the skirt once hid. Her legs seemed almost impossibly long and slim, the skirt almost impossibly high as it continued it's glacially slow journey upwards.

The sight of her panties almost made him gasp when they finally came into view, just inches away, at eye level, on his knees, was the lovely curve of her pussy cradled in thin, black satin, her glorious cleft clearly evident as it moistened the fabric clinging to it. Julia tugged her panties taut and moaned softly, reveling in her sexuality.

A shiver ran through Eric, some perverse thrill at being forced on his knees before his wife's beautiful pussy, the very cradle of feminine power. He wanted so desperately to touch her there, to explore her, to fuck her. After everything he'd been through that day, he just stared, hungry for whatever Julia would allow, desperate for some form of release from the temptress he was married to. At that moment, her pussy seemed like the center of the universe.

"Sniff her, Eric!" Julia demanded. "Don't you dare touch her though, not unless I tell you!"

Eric inched forward then hesitated, suddenly afraid of where Julia was taking them, fearful of what she was turning him into. "Juls..." he began to plea.

"Don't call me that! Never again!" Julia snapped. "That name was for a different time, when we were both different people. Who the hell told you to talk anyway?! Now, do what I told you to do! Sniff my pussy, bitch!" With that, Julia parted her thighs a bit further.

Tears began to well up in Eric's eyes from the utter disgrace and weakness he felt. With a jerky hesitance, he extended his nose and tentatively began to sniff. Immediately, he wanted to recoil from the pungent, undeniable female reek.

"Closer, bitch! I want your nose right next to my pussy and I want to hear you sniffing her in! You need to learn what power smells like!"

Eric did as he was told, fighting back tears the entire time, consumed with both self-contempt and deep arousal. If only he had the balls to resist Julia. But how? To be near her was to want her.

"Julia..." he whispered softly, inhaling deeply through his nose, trembling with excitement and need, staring at her womanhood, getting as close as possible. Julia's pussy looked magnificent, the brief panties covering it more like a second skin than a garment, the crotch dark and moist from the ever growing flow leaking from her. He brought his nose as close as he dared and sniffed again, deeply, loudly, so Julia could hear.

Her lips drew into a cruel smile, enjoying every moment of Eric's debasement, her pussy beginning to ache with desire and need. Julia spread her thighs even more, rolling her hips forward, sliding her hand into her panties, opening her pussy to make sure Eric could smell her ever deepening excitement. "Get in there and sniff her!"

Eric inhaled deeply through his nose repeatedly, loudly, sucking in the pungent, needful, odor flowing from her sex.

"That's it, more!" Julia said. "I want you to remember it! I want to make sure you burn my scent into your memory forever!" She slid her other hand into her panties and began rubbing her clit, taking deep breaths, moaning softly as the tiny bud engorged. "My pussy owns you, Eric," she hissed. "I own you! I want you to know my pussy better than you know your own puny cock! Keep sniffing! Deeply!"

He inhaled long and deeply, then again and again, each inhalation fixing her odor ever more firmly in his mind, burning a memory as she said, a powerful memory of submission. It would linger in his mind forever -- the day she first put him on his knees and made him submit to her juicy, smelly pussy and panties one disastrous afternoon.

Several more minutes went by as Julia continued toying with Eric, making him further fix her scent in his memory, manipulating herself, making sure her secretions flowed, soaking her panties, anything and everything to make sure he'd smell all of her and never be able to forget.

"Enough!" Julia commanded, pushing Eric in the forehead, rocking him back.

Eric looked dazed, his eyes practically glazed over.

"Any chance you'll ever forget what a woman smells like?" she asked, her fingers glistening, saturated with her own nectar. She had never been so wet before. Having forced Eric to his knees, becoming a purely dominant female over her lame, pathetic husband was a powerful aphrodisiac.

"Well, Eric? Do you know what a woman smells like?!" she demanded, glaring at him.

He nodded miserably, quickly averting his eyes, looking to the floor, ashamed at what he had become, at how he looked, at how he smelled.

Julia was disgusted with him. How could she respect such a man? With a cruel, contemptuous expression she reached down into her panties again, inched a long manicured nail gently into herself, and began to carefully swirl it around, collecting the wetness there, bitting her lower lip from the sensation and the thrill at what was about to happen. She pulled it out carefully with a smile.

Without a word, she grabbed a fistful of Eric's hair with her other hand and pulled his head back. Then, carefully but decisively, she took the nail she had prepared and dipped the underside, the hollow, inside his nostril. Her expression twisted with glee as she pulled it back out, depositing the scoop of her secretions inside.

Quick darting motions followed as she began wiping her wet fingers all across his nose and lips and cheeks, repeatedly, using his face like a towel. By the time she was done, his face reeked from the smell of her and his expression tightened into a spasm from all the abuse. Julia openly giggled and laughed at him.

Eric continued to grimace, unable to smell anything other than Julia's reek. His face was hot with shame as her laughter and ridicule further underscored his new position in their marriage. He had never felt so low before. It was all twisting into something intolerable. He felt hot, dizzy, sick. He had to get the smell off, the need quickly preoccupied him, becoming more urgent by the moment. He shifted a leg out, preparing to get up and run to the bathroom to wash.

"Stop! What are you doing?" she yelled, as he began lifting off the floor. Anger having replaced humor, Julia pushed him back down firmly by the shoulders. "I didn't give you permission to leave," she snapped.

"I... need to... Aren't we finished?" he asked with a quaver, his anxiety still spiking.

Julia shook her head slowly, ominously. "No. We're not finished until I say so. Don't you dare be so presumptuous. I'll tell you when you can leave."

Eric went back to kneeling and winced, swallowing his panic as best he could, lamenting his new station in life. Julia was in charge here, it really was that simple he told himself. His nostrils flared open at the thought as he drank in more of her scent, a small shutter running up his spine at the now familiar odor. "I'm sorry, Julia," he said meekly, making sure to use her proper name, "I was just hoping to... clean up a little."

Her eyes were hard as she stared at him. "I'm not through with you yet, Eric. In fact, we've just started," she said with a mocking, playful tone. "I told you I wanted to burn my scent into your memory forever and I meant it. You're going to learn to worship my pussy. You're going to make me cum all over your face while you stay where you belong, on your knees," she said with firm determination. "What's more, I forbid you to wash tonight! I want you sleeping all night long with my scent on you, maybe all of tomorrow too!"

Eric didn't have the will to object, he watched her instead, teeth chattering nervously, waiting for her to decide what would happen to him next.

Julia quickly ran her hands under her skirt and tugged down on her sodden panties until they pooled around her ankles. She stepped out of them, first one stiletto covered foot followed by the other, then retrieved them from the floor. She held them out towards Eric's face, dangling them off her nails and shoved them at his nose.

"Sniff, Eric!" she commanded.

He did as he was told, wriggling his nose at the fresh, pungent smell while the soaked crotch of the panties passed over his nose. Julia seemed to delight at his revulsion. Using both hands, she positioned the wet crotch right at his nose and, with sadistic glee, shoved it into his face, smearing it around before shoving it into his mouth.

"Suck on them!"

Eric began to moan in distress at the mistreatment, the panties hanging out of his mouth, as he sucked out her bitter secretions. It was simply mortifying, on his knees, being forced to suck on his wife's dirty panties while his face stank like some lascivious whore. His stomach lurched as he fought back an urge to heave and still his cock continued its betrayal, throbbing painfully at Julia's games.

It was satisfaction that Julia felt as she looked down at her pathetic husband, not guilt, that was for her old self, the one lost in some patriarchal fantasy. Thanks to Samantha, she was evolving past all that. Eric deserved to be at her feet, suffering as he was, suffering for his betrayal and contemptuous disrespect of her. He was only beginning to pay the price for his transgressions. She needed to take this to the next level, push him even further into submission.

Reaching behind herself, Julia deftly unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the ground, leaving her naked from the waist down with the exception of the tall black stilettos adorning her feet. Eric let his gaze wander from her feet, past her perfect legs, and finally to the naked, hairless cleft of her sex, still moist from her ministrations. He swallowed hard, mesmerized by the feminine treasure mere inches from his face. It seemed so unfair that women had so much of the true sexual power, Eric thought, as his wife stood over him. Still, there was at least some advantages to being on one's knees before a vixen like Julia - the view was nothing short of magnificent, even sublime. His cock began aching again just at the sight of her, the smoothness of her lithe form, the loveliness at the apex of her thighs, the sheer elegance formed at the lips of her sex, even the curve of her ass peeking through from behind. She was glorious.

"Time for you to pleasure me, Eric," she said casually, seductively, as she slid forward on pointy stilettos. "Stay on your knees and start licking."

Eric trembled at the command. He parted his lips hesitantly, burning with regrets and shame yet excited by his demanding, beautiful wife at the same time. Julia opened her legs wider, her fingers grabbing at either side of her sex, gently parting it, opening it like the petals of a beautiful rose as she positioned next to Eric's mouth.

"Accept what you are, Eric!" she insisted. "You belong at my feet! On your knees, at my feet! Just like you are now."

He began to carefully extend his tongue, slowly, the deep, pungent scent of her excitement burning his already abused nose.

"That's it, give yourself up to my pussy like the little spineless bitch you really are, Eric. Service me, on your knees!"

His trembling increased. He was crossing a line, he knew it, becoming something he didn't want to be, sealing his fate. This was worse than the sniffing. Julia would never respect him again. How could she? He really would be her submissive. He simply couldn't do it! He wouldn't!

Then he did. Impulsively, still trembling, fearful of upsetting her, Eric thrust out his tongue to meet the velvet softness between her thighs and drove into her, hoping to get lost in the sweetness of her body and his own lust. He began darting in and out with abandon, probing as deeply as possible, taking in copious amounts of feminine nectar as she held herself open, enough to almost gag him but he continued probing and licking, doing as he was told.

"That's it, Eric," Julia said through fitful breaths, the pleasure beginning to build from his efforts. She suddenly grasped him by the hair, yanking and pulling on him, taking her pleasure by riding his face. "There's no going back for you now. Accept what you've become. Keep licking your queen. Make me cum!" she commanded.

Eric struggled to please her, staying on his knees, serving her, his own needs ignored. Was she right? What if she was right? He licked all the more.

"Lighter now," she commanded, almost whispering, "On my little bud, just that. The tip of your tongue." He did, gently, each flick causing a tiny jerk of pleasure in response.

"More forceful now!" she said later and he answered the call again, pressing lips and nose and face into action, her nectar coating his nose and mouth and chin.

Julia continued, keeping him there for another dozen minutes or more, making certain he stayed on his knees, instructing him, using him, taking her pleasure, humbling him, until finally, while grinding on his face, she began to cum, bucking wildly as her orgasm overtook her, crashing in waves of rippling pleasure, one after another, enough to half suffocate the poor submissive between her legs.

They stared at each other afterwards, Julia standing proudly, looking down at Eric on his knees. They looked upon each other as an unspoken truth became clear to both of them - they had come too far, there really was no going back anymore to what they had before.

Julia smiled triumphantly while Eric looked away, lamenting a future on his knees, vanquished, unsure if he was even a man anymore. Yet, even in all his misery and debasement, his cock was still rock hard, painfully so. It stood straight out, straining obscenely against his underwear, the front dampened from the excitement of Julia's demands.

"I guess we need to do something about that," Julia said with a hint of disdain.
"Please?" Eric pleaded hopefully.

Julia shifted her weight, spreading her thighs open again, the cleft and folds of her womanhood beckoning to him, making his cock strain forward, aching for his wife's enchanting body.

She nodded with an encouraging smile, shifting her pelvis forward slightly while rolling her knees outward, the movement brazenly opening her for appraisal, locking Eric's eyes there like a starving man with a rich meal mere inches away. He bit his lip in anticipation, his cock desperate to touch her, the need for her body searing his brain.

"When I came home tonight I was thinking about letting you have me like the old days," she said softly, her voice soft and silky, filled with sultry passion. "I was even considering letting you on top," she added, shrugging with indifference.

"Yes, Julia, please," he begged hoarsely.

She pouted, almost childlike, patronizingly, then slowly shook her head. "Sorry, you lost that privilege today. You know why right?"

Eric stared at her with a bewildered look.

"Because of your utterly, completely, inexcusable behavior!" she said, the words dripping with contempt. "Because of your disrespect towards me! Dumping my things on the ground! Leaving the house filthy! All of that and you think I'm going to allow you to put that little... worm in me?! NO! NOT HAPPENING!" she yelled, her eyes hard as steel.

"What? I... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Julia", Eric said with earnestly.
"Sorry?!" she spat out, her eyes continuing their harsh, steely stare. "Oh, you will be, Eric. By the time I'm done with you..." Her lip curled, sending a shutter through him, making him twitch, wishing the very floor could swallow him up.

"You have a lot of work to do tonight, Eric. First, you're going to pick up everything of mine that you threw on the floor and put it back where it belongs. Then, you're going to clean up the rest of the apartment starting with the kitchen which is a disaster right now. I want everything clean and back where it belongs. And after you've done all that, you're going to report back to me for inspection. Once I'm happy with the apartment. After everything is back to how it should have been when I walked in tonight then I'm going to punish you for what you did today. Oh yeah, trust me, you're gonna be sorry all right."

Eric's eyes betrayed the apprehension, even fear, he felt at Julia's words.

"But, before we start any of that, we need to get rid of that," Julia said pointing at Eric's straining cock.

In response, his member jerked, as if her finger had actually poked it.

"Take them off, Eric."

"What?"

"Take off your underwear, Eric! I want you naked!"

Sheepishly, worried about what Julia was planning, he stood up, then slowly pulled his underwear down. Julia watched in fascination as his cock popped out of his briefs, slid down his legs, and fell to the floor. Stripping himself naked at her command had to be another milestone in his downfall, she realized. He looked all the more vulnerable standing there, stripped, his cock sticking straight out bobbing about awkwardly, his little eggs huddling tightly underneath looking like they wanted to hide.

"Back on your knees where you belong," Julia sniped, kicking his underwear to the wall to be rid of them.

He bit his lower lip in response, having hit a new low, looking miserable, like he might start crying, he eased back down to his knees.

Sneering broadly, Julia stepped over to her panties and retrieved them from the floor, letting them dangle off her nails as she walked back over to Eric, her naked, bald pussy directly in front of his eyes. She dropped the panties into his lap.

"Beat yourself off while I watch," she said.

"What?" he asked astonished.

"You heard me. I'm not going to have you running around the apartment with that thing pointing at me half the night. With my panties, beat it off," she said with disdain.

Eric picked up Julia's panties, his hand trembling from humiliation and excitement, his emotions so twisted up at this point he felt disoriented and lost."

"That's the closest your cock might ever get to my pussy again -- my soiled panties. And you should consider that a privilege."

Eric winced at her cruel words. He wanted to fall on his side and roll into a ball but his cock was aching for relief, feeling like it might burst through the skin if he didn't cum.

"Do it, Eric. Masturbate, on your knees, while your wife stands over you and watches you humiliate yourself."

Eric wanted to refuse her but he wasn't thinking straight anymore. He closed his eyes and began to rub himself with the panties.

"That's it. Now, look up at my pussy too. I want you to see what you can't have anymore. Look at how soft and beautiful she is," Julia said gently tracing her cleft with her nails.

He did as he was told and opened his eyes, a tear rolled down which he quickly wiped away.

"I think from now on you're only going to be allowed to service me with your mouth. Maybe on your knees, maybe your back. Whatever strikes my mood at the time."

Eric accelerated his pace as Julia ridiculed him, desperate to be done with it.

"Don't you ever forget, it's the woman that sets the rules for sex. I have the pussy so I make the rules," she said. "Now, hurry up! Beat that thing off so I don't have to look at it anymore and don't you dare spill any of your disgusting spunk on the carpet or I'll make you lick it up."

Emotions continued tearing Eric apart. He focused on Julia, got lost in her, was fully engrossed in her intoxicating pussy while she stroked those long beautiful nails slowly, up and back, along her sex, at times pressing slightly inward, parting the lips to accept a light caress. His pace quickened as he watched her, getting lost in sensation and feminine beauty, her presence and power overwhelming him as she dipped a finger deeper, making it disappear... And then he came, and came, harder and stronger than he ever remembered, filling the panties with his seed, moaning, almost screaming until he was spent.

There was a moment of stillness where the world seemed to slow, a point where sexual need and satisfaction balanced, where sweet release made everything alright. But it only lasted for that moment. It passed all too quickly for Eric. Recovering, sweating, panting, the image of Julia's delicious body still filled every corner of his mind, dominated every thought. Julia... She was changing him. He hated her for it and loved that it was happening.

Julia looked at the defeated man at her feet with contempt. He looked glassy eyed, kneeling naked before her with cum filled panties still wrapped around his softening cock. She slipped her skirt on while Eric still lingered in post orgasmic bliss, a few moments of pleasure before she decided to lower the boom.

She placed her hand on Eric's head and tousled his hair. It felt almost affectionate, even playful, but quickly changed. She tightened her grip, pulling at the hair and scalp, then yanked his head back to force him to look her in the eyes.

"Get use to it, Eric. Beating your little worm off with a pair of my panties is the best you can hope for now. Got it?!"

He nodded, maintaining eye contact with her, half terrified to upset her further.

"Now clean up your mess," she hissed. "All of it. Everything you did today. And, it better be perfect. There better not be so much as a piece of lint on any of my lingerie. If anything is, in the least bit dirty, you better wash it. One hour. You have one hour to make this place look like it should have looked when I walked in the door."

Eric's eyes went wide as saucers. Her bras, panties, and nightgowns were strewn all over their bedroom. Between what he did to her stuff and all of his packing the bedroom was a disaster. The kitchen was a total mess too and half the apartment was in disarray!

"While you're working I'm going to consider what punishment you deserve for your... hideous acts today," she said with determination. "It needs to be something serious. You need to understand there's consequences for your actions, Eric. This isn't a game. Rebelling against me is a serious matter."

Eric nodded pitifully. If only he hadn't been so brash, he realized. Wanting to leave was one thing, but being spiteful was another. Maybe she was right- His mouth fell open. The thought seized him up. Julia, right?! Really?! The idea was numbing and profound. How could he even think that? Was he already beginning to accept his life as her submissive?!

"Well, go! Get to work!" she commanded.

Eric stood up feeling disoriented. His shoulders slumped as he walked over to his cloths to get dressed. It was going to be a difficult and humbling evening.

"What are you doing?" Julia asked, stopping him in his tracks.

Eric turned partially around to address her and pointed towards his cloths. "Getting dressed so I can start cleaning," he said quietly.

"No," Julia said with finality. "You threw my lingerie all over the bedroom. That type of disrespect doesn't go unanswered. You stay naked until every single piece of my clothing is back where it belongs!"

"But-"

"No!" The word was resounding, definitive. "And you better keep your cock under control while your fingering my bras and panties too or... You don't want to know what I'll do to you. And if you don't finish on time I'll be adding to your punishment. Now get busy!"

It was another degradation, another notch down. He felt truly naked, in a way he had never known before. She was the boss. He couldn't even cover himself if she didn't permit it!

Julia arched her eyebrows towards him impatiently.

He turned quickly and scampered off towards the bedroom, desperate to hide behind a wall if nothing else, his dangling male parts slapping against his inner thighs as he fled the room.

Entering the bedroom, looking at the utter mess, made him groan inside. The room looked like a bomb had gone off in her lingerie drawer, propelling the drawer and all her things everywhere. He started with the drawer itself, picking it up and putting it back into the dresser where it belonged. Then began the grand pickup. It was going to take awhile.

The sound of the dresser drawer being slid back into the vanity brought a brief, twisted smile to Julia's lips. Disgraced and naked, he was following her orders. It made her smile. She might not be able to order him to submit to the AGen protocols yet but he was well on the way to that type of submission.

Julia turned her mind to punishment. She sat down on the couch, crossing her legs in one smooth, feminine motion and began twisting tendrils of her hair as she contemplated his fate. Given his crime, his punishment needed to be something severe, something he'd never be able to forget. She delighted in each idea as it emerged, every one a bit more devious and harsher than the last.

It took over forty minutes before the bedroom was finally put back together to where Eric was confident Julia would be satisfied. Everything was back in the lingerie drawer, placed and folded how she would expect them, the rest of the room straightened out and cleaned up. Finally, he dusted and vacuumed the room to make sure everything would be perfect.

By the time he got to the kitchen, Julia was sitting at their dinning room table with her laptop, browsing the Internet, clicking away, reading, smiling, thoroughly engrossed. She leered at Eric's naked body, her eyes bright and hungry with mischief. It made the hair on the back of his neck tingle in an unnerving way, like he was in her sights for some new indignity. Stripped of clothing by a dominant woman and being forced to clean was bad enough, speculating further didn't seem helpful so he did his best to put it out of his mind. Still, something didn't feel right and he couldn't help but wonder if her glee had something to do with the punishment she would soon impose.

"You're running out of time, Eric," Julia said casually. She locked her eyes on him as he scurried about the kitchen trying to make the deadline. "I don't think you're going to like your punishment. Don't make it worse by finishing late."

Eric's cock twitched at the announcement, the anticipation of his wife punishing him was exciting and perverse. He moaned inside at how weak and feckless he was becoming, how quickly he was succumbing to being dominated. He hurried to finish on time, speedily cleaning, his testicles swinging like a clapper in a bell from all the rushing about. At least he was getting better at cleaning thanks to Julia's schooling and inspections.

"Less than three minutes left," Julia announced.

Eric spun about the room again, quickly checking everything and gave the kitchen faucet a final wipe down to make it sparkle, to make sure it was up to the level Julia demanded. After all, maybe she'd be more forgiving with the punishment if he did a good job, he reasoned.

"Time's up!" Julia declared as she stood and walked over to the kitchen.

Eric stood there awkwardly, his hands gently grasping each other while loosely holding a cleaning cloth in front of his manhood for however small a measure of modesty it provided. Julia smirked at him as she passed on her way to the sink and yanked the cloth from him.

"Hands to your sides, Eric. When I tell you I want you naked, I mean naked. You don't deserve cloths right now and I expect to see your silly little worm at all times," she said derisively. He dropped his hands revealing a mostly shriveled cock.

Julia walked all through the kitchen, checking every surface, paying special attention to the kitchen table which had been in utter disarray earlier.

"Disgusting," she said with distain having found something, the single word making Eric's heart skip a beat. She lowered herself closer to the kitchen table then scratched a fingernail across the surface, using it like a small sexy shovel and, with a little careful effort, maneuvered a tiny potato chip fragment onto the underside of the nail. She stared at it for a moment while it rested on her long polished extension, her lips twisting up in anger.

She walked over to face Eric while holding her nail out with the captured fragment, sticking it under his nose as she reached him. "You missed something from the filthy mess you intended to leave for me," she said.

"I'm sorry, Julia. There was a lot to do but I really thought I had everything," he said, hoping the miss wouldn't cost him too much.

"Tongue out," Julia ordered.

"Wha-"

"TONGUE OUT!" Julia repeated loudly.

Eric complied, his tongue inching slowly out until it was fully extended. Julia smiled then positioned her nail directly over his tongue and flipped it over, tapping her finger up and down to dump the small fragment out. Checking, satisfied that it was on his tongue, she gave him another order. "Now eat it, Eric! I gave you a chance! Maybe you'll do a better job next time! Go ahead, eat the filth you left for me!"

Eric did as he was told, swallowing hard to get rid if the fragment. His stomach began churning almost immediately, not from the tiny fragment but instead from the shame of what he was becoming and allowing to happen.

Finishing the kitchen, Julia quickly sped off towards the bedroom to begin the inspection there. He followed behind her, head down, hoping in desperation that nothing was out of order, afraid of what further humiliation Julia might heap on her pathetic beta-male if something did.

Eric watched her for a few minutes while she moved through the room, seemingly satisfied with his work. Everything seemed fine until she popped her dress drawer open. The noise caused him to jerk. Julia stood there, hands on hips, in front of the drawer, scanning the interior. Each passing second increased his fear that she would discover something wrong inside the drawer.

"Where are they, Eric?!"

"Where's wha...," he started, then suddenly realized what she was looking for. In a panic, he turned, sped over to the entryway like the wind and tore into his travel bag, pulling out her red, silk panties. He lingered there for a few seconds, fingering the rose-pattern brocade between his fingers, remembering what they looked like on Julia.

"Eric?! Get your naked ass over here this moment," she yelled.

Head down, he walked swiftly back to Julia and promptly returned the panties to her.

"You're pathetic, you know that?" she asked rhetorically. "On top of everything else you stole a pair of my panties?! Why?"

He stared at the panties as he answered, afraid to look her in the eyes. "I... wanted something to remember you by."

Julia snorted in response. "Aren't you just a precious thing," she said sarcastically. "Maybe I'll add a second punishment today, just for the panty theft," she mused, considering it.

"I'm sorry," Eric managed sincerely.

Julia shrugged. "Get dressed," she commanded firmly. "The apartment is satisfactory."

"Okay," he said relieved.

"It's time for your punishment," Julia declared.

Eric froze, the words impacting like sledgehammers, instilling fear and excitement in their wake.

"And since you love my panties so much, you can wear them tonight," Julia said, twisting her lips into a contemptuous, half-smile, then throwing them at him.

"But-"

"Put them on and get dressed!" she instructed, cutting off any whining he might offer. "And, other than my beautiful panties, pick something casual to wear. You might want something a little loose fitting too." she sneered, chuckling lightly to herself.

Eric looked at her in disbelief. Wear her panties?! She had to be kidding! He couldn't, just couldn't! What if friends found out?! He'd be outed as some pathetic sissy, girly boy!

"Now!" she demanded "I want to see how cute your ass looks in my panties.

His face twisted up into a mask of humiliated torment as he held them up, preparing to put them on, turning them around until he had the front correct, the utterly feminine garment mocking what masculinity he still possessed. He lifted a foot and stepped into the garment, the other followed. The panties rested around his ankles, waiting to be drawn up, waiting to be actually worn.

Julia groaned with impatience. "You do not want me any angrier with you than I already am! If I have to wait... even a minute longer I'm going to kick your sorry ass out of here! Now, Eric!" she yelled.

"O...Okay...," Eric stammered. He pulled the panties up his legs, repulsed by the idea of wearing something so clearly female and wrong, worried that Julia was about to make him into something worse than he already was - a sissy, a wimp, a chastised, wife dominated pansy. He paused halfway but a single look from Julia and he pulled them the rest of the way up.

"Turn around a couple times. I want to see how you look in them," Julia said, making a cute swirling motion with her finger.

Head down, sheepishly, Eric put himself on display, turning about for Julia's amusement. He felt foolish and tawdry wearing the panties and wished he had the strength to resist her.

She suppressed a chuckle at how ridiculous they looked on him, enough to almost make her feel sorry for how pathetic he'd become. Almost. Regardless, it was a justly earned punishment. But even more than that, it helped with the larger goal. He needed conditioning and subjugation for what was coming. Panties, as devastating as they might be to his ego, could simply be taken off. He wouldn't have that luxury once his breasts started to develop. They'd be permanent. Getting to where he would be willing to accept that would take a little work.

"Get dressed," she said, flatly. "We have an appointment to keep."

"An appointment?" Eric asked timidly.

"For your punishment," she said with a smile. "Casual, something comfortable, except the panties, keep them on," she added.

Eric stood there like he was frozen in place.

"Go!" she said, shooing him away.

With his mind whirling away, deeply concerned about what his punishment might entail, Eric walked away to get dressed.

The drive through the city darkened Eric's mood even more. The city streets passed by in a blur. Cloudy emotions shrouded in loss and worry consumed him while Julia drove on and on to his appointment, his punishment. He wasn't even sure what feelings were real anymore. His old self seemed to be slowly disappearing as Julia's dominance grew. There was a terrifying sense of loss but also, though he hated to admit it, excitement at what she was doing. He had no idea how exhilarating Julia could be as a dominant. She was more beautiful and seductive than ever. Even the idea of being punished by her was strangely stimulating and provocative in ways he didn't understand.

Trying to figure out what type of appointment she had scheduled for him though was nerve-wracking. She refused to tell him where they were going. It gnawed its way into his mind street after street, block after block as she drove through unfamiliar areas of the city. Then, without warning, she turned into the parking lot of a small, squat, unfamiliar building. Eric's eyes went wide looking at the window of the place which was covered in bold and bright art work, colorful flowing water and dragons with a sundry of other things. A garish neon sign burning in the center of all the artwork radiated brightly into the street - "Tattoo & Piercing Studio". Eric's jaw dropped open as an oddly determined yet serene smile formed on Julia's lips in response.

He shook his head in denial then quickly turned to face Julia, looking for some glimmer to suggest they were in the wrong place. "This... can't be right. Julia?"

Her smile broadened and she got out of the car, closing the door. Walking to the front of the car, she deftly curled a finger towards him a few times to summon him out. A disapproving stare quickly followed, the expression serious enough to cause him to exit the car and join her.

"I don't understand," Eric said nervously. "Why? What are we doing here?" He asked with concern.

Julia peered into him for a moment, her expression shifting to something more serious. "Do you remember when you pierced my ears? When you added the extra holes so I could wear more earrings for you? Remember?"

He shrugged slightly, shaking his head subtly with a confused look. "A couple years ago? You wanted me to. You asked me!"

Julia shook her head. "No, Eric. I didn't want more holes in my ears. I remember telling you that but you didn't want to hear it" she said. "You talked me into it, more like manipulated me. I was a lot more compliant then. Weak. Needy. You took advantage of that. You were insistent, kept making little comments, little jabs. You kept at it for days until I finally gave in. You practically forced me into it!"

"I don't remember it that way!" Eric said, shaking his head.

"Doesn't surprise me. You were so full of yourself back then," she said seething. "Once you got what you wanted you probably just forgot about it. It wasn't important to you anymore. But I was there, Eric. I remember the arm twisting, the little comments, the disapproving glances. You kept it up day after day until I let you do it. I even convinced myself later that I was okay with it, but I never really was. I felt used. I still remember all of it."

Eric shook his head nervously. "I don't... remember it like that and I certainly didn't force you."

"I can't force you either. I wouldn't if I could." she said. "You always have a choice. You're free to leave me anytime you want, Eric."

Eric winced. There it was again, the clear threat of losing her. Julia held it over him like a sword. "Julia, please, I don't want my ears pierced. I know some men have that done now but-"

"Who said anything about your ears?"

Eric shrugged again, confused.

Julia stared at him for a bit, enjoying the moment, smiling mischievously at his obvious discomfort. "I'm having your cock pierced."

"What!!? You're not serious!"

"Totally serious. They're going to pierce the head of your cock and put a big ring through it."

Eric was staggered. He began feeling lightheaded.

"I'm thinking maybe a Prince Albert piercing," she said. "Maybe I can attach a leash to it afterwards."

"Julia, please. No. Let's just go. Please," he begged.

She ignored the pleas and began walking towards the door of the shop.

Eric stood there desperately nervous as Julia's heals click-clacked away over the parking lot. Impulsively, he took a few steps towards her to follow. He felt compelled to close the distance between them. As she reached the door and entered he surprised himself by quickly following her inside.

Once there, a single look around was enough to practically paralyze him. Tattoo flash and posters of bold, colorful artwork filled the walls in every direction. Among the artwork was a half-dozen posters of people, tattooed and pierced to varying degrees, some of them heavily so, a few modified in ways that made Eric blanch. Near the door was a counter filled with body jewelry, rings and bars and other things in countless sizes and designs. The very idea that something in that counter would soon be thrust through his manhood terrified him.

The shop was clean, brightly lit and professional looking but it was doing little to calm Eric's increasing sense of panic over Julia's plans for him. There were four tattooing stations in the shop, two to either side of a reception desk set in the middle of the room. The two in the back were busy, setting Eric's teeth on edge from the near constant droning buzz of tattoo machines pushing ink into skin.

Shockingly, the nearest of the two patrons, was a young woman who was getting the top of her hand tattooed! Eric could hardly believe it. The tattoo artist was another woman who was filled with dozens of garish, other worldly images, which covered both her arms. The whole scene seemed unimaginably, bizarre, certainly nothing Eric was familiar with. A tasteful tattoo or two on a woman was one thing but this? When did women start doing such bold, dramatic, in-your-face things? What had modern women evolved into?

Julia walked over to the girl standing behind the reception desk with Eric in tow, nervously hiding behind her. The receptionist set him on edge too, a mixture of normal and extreme, looking like a girl next door type in a simple pink dress yet she was heavily tattooed too with both arms completely covered and had so many piercings he couldn't even count them all.

"Can I help you?" the receptionist asked, the tone as lovely as a debutante fresh from finishing school.

"We have an appointment. My husband...," she started, gesturing towards Eric, "is here to have his penis pierced. I'm thinking I want a Prince Albert for him and I'd like to talk to the piercer about the size. I want as large a gauge as the piercer thinks is reasonable."

Eric could hardly believe his ears! She had said it like she owned him. He locked eyes with the receptionist who flashed him a knowingly, quirky smile. He felt a wave of horrific embarrassment and was certain he was blushing a deep shade of red.

"Certainly," the receptionist answered. "Our piercer can discuss options with you and your... husband. She should be free in a few minutes I think. Let me check," she said with a smile and walked away into the back of the shop, through a door with a sign declaring it was the "Piercing Studio".

Feeling a bit dizzy, Eric went over to the waiting area and sat down to think. He wasn't sure what this Prince Albert thing was exactly but it just had to be horrible and painful. How could he have allowed things to get to this point? He had to get Julia to reconsider. But how? What could he say?

Julia wandered back towards him with her phone out, smiling. "This is what you're getting today, Eric," she said, holding her phone out for him to see the picture on the screen. He stared at it in utter disbelief, alarm bells going off in his brain, then turned his full attention to Julia, his face having fallen into a panic.

"No... no... Julia, please. You can't... please, Julia. Not that," he begged, shaking his head repeatedly. "Please don't ask me to do that. Please." He looked back to the picture and fixed on the huge thick ring that passed right through the pee hole and then through the underside of the cock. It looked utterly grotesque and bizarre to him. "I'm so, so sorry about today, Julia. Please. I wasn't thinking straight. I really want to stay with you but please don't ask me to do that." The look on his face was one of utter desperation and panic.

Julia pouted at him, disappointed, but was already considering how she might turn his hysteria to her advantage. "Well... I don't know, Eric. The whole point of this is to give you a permanent reminder of today, something you can't just decide to leave or abandon like you were about to do to me today," she said with a stern look. "It's also about your decision to stay in our marriage, to make a commitment to being female lead from now on."

He nodded anxiously, wanting to appease her, then cradled his chin in both hands utterly distraught.

"Honestly, after what you did today, having your cock pierced feels like the right thing to do."

"Can we do something else?" he asked with pleading eyes. "Please, Julia. That's just too... much, too extreme. It hurts even thinking about it. I mean... how would I even pee?"

"Sitting down, like a woman has too," she responded with a smile.

Eric's face twisted up, temples throbbing like drums, as he considered what to say to her, anything to get Julia to reconsider. He looked towards the door to the parking lot, like he wanted to leave, the idea weighing on him. He stood, took one step towards the door, then turned around to look at Julia, fully taking her in, his eyes running up and down the length of her body, fully appreciating every beautiful curve. She smiled at him, not sweetly but with smugness, daring him to leave with nothing more than a look, the unspoken challenge passing between them while the hum of tattooing buzzed in the air. It lasted for several seconds before Eric relented and simply sat back down.

She stood regally over him, looking like a queen considering his fate. He looked like he was on the brink, ready to lose it. Maybe it was time to offer a little deal to see where it took them. "Honestly, I do believe that piercing your little cock is an appropriate punishment for you," she said. "You'd be reminded everyday that a woman had ringed you, that I was in charge of our marriage, in charge of you, and in charge of your little worm." Julia stared at him to make the point, reveling in the continuing panic in his eyes. "But... I don't want to seem unreasonable. I am willing to entertain... alternatives, if you have them."

Hope returned to Eric's eyes. He looked like a man who had just been pardoned. "Really?!"

Julia nodded, pursing her lips playfully, throughly enjoying her game. She really did want to pierce his cock, might still, but if she could make him complicit in his own punishment, all the better. "If you can provide me with something... appropriate. Something that I like which fits your crime then maybe we can forget about the Prince Albert for now. Maybe." She fold her arms and arched her eyebrows, staring at him, waiting for him to design his punishment.

Eric's mind spun and spun, hoping to quickly seize on an idea. All to quickly, Julia grew impatient, her eyes narrowed. "Maybe, like what I did to you then?" he offered. "Have them... pierce my ears instead?"

Julia frowned in disbelief.

"Please, hear me out. I would hate that, honestly. I know some men have that done now but no guy I know has it and, like you said, it is what I did to you so..."

"That's it? You have to be kidding. You consider that serious enough for what you did?!" Julia shook her head and shrugged. "Don't say I didn't give you an opportunity."

"No, please! Given me another chance!"

She glared at him. "One more. And I better like it or maybe I'll add a second ring to your cock."

Eric's eyes went wide, panic began flooding in again. He looked for inspiration around the room, art, posters, even the customers. The room felt unusually warm suddenly, the buzz of tattoo guns reverberating in the air, seemingly growing louder and louder, completing with the pounding in his chest. "What about...," he began, clearing his throat, "a small tattoo?"

Julia mulled it over, seemingly interested, a mischievous smile began dancing across her lips. "Of what? What type of tattoo?"

"Maybe a..." His mind went blank.

"You better come up with something quick, Eric, and it better be something good," she said, jerking her crimson tipped finger at him. "Remember what I said earlier? I want something that'll remind you forever of today. Something that'll remind you of your commitment to me and our marriage. Julia looked angry again, like she was reliving the events of the day. "I want something that shows your respect towards me, Eric! If you really want to stay with me prove it!"

The answer came to him then, it seemed obvious, something she was sure to go for. "What about... your name. I could have your name tattooed on me to show my commitment to you." As the last word left his mouth, regret began to sink in.

Julia's demeanor changed almost immediately, from anger to mild amusement. "Where?" she asked asked with interest. "Where are we going to tattoo my name on you?"

The question caught him off guard, he hadn't considered it. Coming up with an idea to save his manhood from the piercer had been the only goal. He didn't really want it anywhere. "I... don't know," he said and then made a terrible mistake, "Why don't you decide."

Julia stared at him, eyebrows arching up in surprise as her smile changed to something more devious. "Okay," she said simply, the tone almost playful. Without another word, she spun about and walked away towards the back of the shop, through the doorway to the piercing studio, where the receptionist had gone earlier.

Eric quietly cursed at himself. What was he thinking? Her name indelibly inked into him? A tattoo?! He didn't have any and didn't want any. And, Julia seemed far too happy over the turn of events. That couldn't be good, he realized.

He sat there for several more minutes obsessing in the worst way over ink and needles and pain and the permanence of what they added up to. The buzz of the tattoo guns continued droning on, permanently embedding ink into the people under their cruel stingers, making them forever different, the occasional groan of pain echoing in the room, each one compounding Eric's fears. Was this the last chance to run, to escape? Run before Julia fixed her name on him?

He stood up and eyed the door to the outside again and just stood there, frozen, long enough for Julia, the receptionist, and another heavily tattooed woman to walk out of the back room together, chatting and smiling. Reflexively, Eric sat back down.

The receptionist and Julia continued chatting and began working on some paperwork together at the reception desk. The heavily tattooed woman walked over to an empty tattoo station and began setting it up for work. Eric's head shifted back and forth between them, unsure of what to worry about more.

"Eric," Julia called, motioning him over to the receptionist desk. "You need to sign this."

He walked over sheepishly, checking over his shoulder to the tattooed woman as she placed a tattoo gun out at the station.

"Sign here," Julia instructed, holding a pen out "it's for your tattoo."

"Julia, can't-"

"Just sign it, Eric," she said impatiently, cutting him off. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"But-"

"You're not going to weasel out of this! This is your punishment for your contemptible disrespect of me today," she said. "You've earned this!"

He nodded begrudgingly at his stern wife.

"Besides, the tattoo was your idea," she said, flashing him a quick smile.

He nodded again.

"You're getting tattooed by Kelly," she said, motioning over towards the tattooed woman setting up the station. "Go on over there. I have to finish up the paperwork."

Eric walked over to Kelly, slowly, like he was walking to the gallows. Looking over his shoulder, Julia was writing something on the form for his tattoo, a form she had practically forced him to sign. She looked so damn sexy standing there, deliciously feminine, her every move and gesture delightful. How could he have ever wanted to walk away from her? Would it really be that horrible wearing "Julia" on his skin? He bit down on his lip thinking about it. He didn't want this but what choice did he really have? She was carving her name into him, claiming him like a piece of property so everybody knew who it belonged to. His cock twitched at the thought and that made him feel all the worse.

"Take off your shirt and have a seat," Kelly told him, gesturing to an odd looking chair, one that you leaned forward into, leaving the back fully exposed, with knee rests and a face cradle to make it more comfortable. He had gotten a shoulder and back massage once in a chair like it long ago. Today would be for something far different and a lot more painful.

The receptionist began walking over towards them, staring at the completed form in her hands, giggling. Julia smiled in response and walked over to Eric who was standing next to the chair.

"You heard her, Eric," Julia whispered sexily into his ear. "Shirt off and sit for her."

He pulled off his top. Julia immediately yanked it away from him and gently pushed him towards the chair, the tips of her nails lightly brushing his back like claws. He climbed into the chair, leaning forward into the chest rest, knees sinking into the lower pads, face peering through the cradle. His back was fully exposed, waiting for the needle and the pain to start.

The receptionist giggled again and handed the form to Kelly. She looked it over and raised an eyebrow towards Julia. "You're sure about this?" she asked with a light chuckle. Eric raised up from the face rest only to have Julia plant her hand in the back of his head and push it back into place, holding it there.

"Yes, I'm positive and I want you to use the ink you said is more resistant to laser. I don't want him thinking he can maybe have it removed someday," Julia said.

"Okay, we can do that," the artist answered. "Come on, over here. I'll need you to help with the stencil." Kelly and Julia began working off to the side, quietly, leaving Eric in a turmoil as to what they were doing and why Julia needed to be so involved.

As he sat there waiting, stewing, the receptionist walked up to him. The pink dress came halfway up her thighs revealing a viscous snake head tattooed on one leg and a black panther tattooed on the other, peaking out below the hemline. "I wish I could tell you what your wife has planned for you," she whispered excitedly, "but she swore us all to secrecy."

Eric could hardly believe his ears. How could Julia be talking to complete strangers about him like that, about something so deeply personal like modifying his body for her?! They were all women too, three females conspiring to punish and mark the errant male and that seemed perfectly fine to them!

Finishing her work with the artist, Julia walked over to the front of the chair, reveling in the power she had over Eric, looking over her victim like a hunter approaching game caught in a trap, overjoyed with what was about to happen as she watched Kelly finalize the stencil.

Julia was actually getting wet thinking about the tattoo. This was going to change things between them. There'd likely be no going back after this and she would be all the closer to realizing the larger goal of feminizing her weak, pathetic husband. It was the beginning of permanently changing his body to her liking, another step forward, a huge one. It felt wicked and delicious. Even the steely, contemptuous Dr. Joyce would be pleased with her right now, Samantha too for that matter.

Waiting, desperate to control the anxiety he felt over the tattoo, Eric focused on Julia's legs and heels while peering through the face cradle, trying to let his mind wander as he waited. He wished she would order him between her thighs again, before the tattooing started, wishing he could stay there with his face buried in her while the artist inked her name on him. His cock was getting hard just thinking about it. It was wrong, he knew it, but he couldn't help himself.

He jerked forward suddenly, startled, taking in a quick breath, as Kelly scrubbed down his lower back with something wet and cold.

"She's just cleaning your skin, Eric. Calm down." Julia said amused.

Kelly quickly rubbed the area down with some lotion then expertly positioned the stencil to Eric's skin, carefully laying it down across his lower back. Julia grinned, hardly able to wait until the needle started to bite into him. When Kelly peeled away the stencil a bluish outline stretched across his entire lower back, almost from hip to hip with cursive, hand-written script.

"How's the placement for you," Kelly asked Julia.

Julia circled behind the chair for a look. "That's perfect," she said enthusiastically.

"One of the best tramp stamp designs I think I've ever seen. Especially on a guy," the receptionist said sarcastically.

Kelly nodded in agreement as she donned some gloves. Julia's sinister smile returned, her eyes looked on in fascination as Kelly finished getting ready, taking special pleasure when the needle was fitted into the tattoo machine. A quick test had the machine buzz to life making Eric's pulse quicken.

Julia approached Eric from behind and bent over, placing her mouth mere inches from his ear. "Kelly is going to ink you now, Eric," Julia whispered, her hot breath sending a chill rippling through him. "You're getting marked so you don't forget who you belong to anymore, so you won't try to run off again," she said with contempt. "Wear my name with pride."

Kelly brought the machine to Eric's back. He could feel her hands on him. He had hoped that somehow this was all an elaborate ruse, a scare tactic. She wouldn't really do this to him, would she?

"Try to relax now," Kelly said flatly. The machine then hummed to life, joining the chorus of the other machines in the room.

The sudden burst of pain was more than Eric had expected. His eyes closed tightly against the onslaught with the certain realization that this was no ruse, no game. Julia was really doing it. Her name was being carved into him for life. He didn't want to believe it but the pain said it all. His face tightened, eyes closed, feeling alone with the shame of allowing his very body to be violated for having an obsession for Julia. That's what it was. He was obsessed with her. He had become weak, she had become strong, and he just couldn't stand to lose her.

The tattooing and pain seemed to go on forever. Eric tried to keep track of what was happening to his back, tried to figure out when it would end, counting what were maybe the letters, but it didn't add up, he couldn't make sense of it. Julia and the receptionist were both encouraging, telling him how good it looked, that it would be finished sooner than he thought but it seemed to go on and on. Julia didn't allow him any breaks or comfort either, it was a punishment after all and he was expected to endure it. He eventually lost track of time entirely and simply surrendered to the ordeal, to the pain and to the near constant buzzing of the machine, hours lost in misery and self-recriminations. Thankfully, it couldn't last forever.

"That's it," Kelly announced, putting down her equipment. She did a final wipe down and applied something cool to his back. He began to stir, preparing to get up, wanting to stretch out stiff and aching muscles.

"I totally love it," Julia said with excitement, stamping her heels behind Eric, doing a tiny happy dance.

"First time I've seen a tramp stamp on a guy, especially one like that," the receptionist said, trying to stifle a chuckle.

Eric shifted around to see the amused looks on the faces of the women behind him. Julia, Kelly, the receptionist, and even another female artist he hadn't realized was there, all four, had a similar look. He blushed in response, suddenly feeling faint, almost afraid to look at what Kelly had done to him at Julia's direction.

"Come on, Eric," Julia said. "Time to see the new you," she added with excitement.

He struggled out of the chair. After hours in one position combined with the pain of getting tattooed he was weak and unsteady. He followed Kelly over to a full-length mirror, not wanting to turn around, afraid to look. She handed him a hand mirror and grinned.

"Turn around and look," Julia commanded.

He took a deep breath and turned around, putting his back to the full-length mirror and using the hand mirror to better see the reflection.

When his eyes first looked at his tattoo his brain locked up for a few moments, unable to make sense of it. It looked like handwriting all across his lower back, rich red, like somebody had written across his back with a thin, bright red lipstick. Then he recognized it, astonishingly, it was Julia's handwriting, like she had personally written it there, but it wasn't lipstick and it couldn't be wiped off! He lost his balance and almost fell as he read it, it wasn't just her name but a proclamation - "Property of Julia Grant".

CHAPTER TEN
Property

Eric stared at his tattoo, alone in the bathroom, in a state of utter disbelief. He'd fled to the safety of the small room in a near panic from the moment they arrived home. His shirt was on the floor along side the plastic wrap that had been covering his new body modification, both hastily removed, tossed there moments after he'd slammed the door to try to escape Julia.

He held a hand mirror up to see his back reflected in the mirror over the sink, to see the message permanently etched into his body. It made sense now why Julia had helped the artist with the stencil. It really was Julia's handwriting the artist had used, there was no mistaking it. A lovely, feminine looking, cursive script in a bright red, looking nearly identical to what Julia wore on her lips most days. It wouldn't surprise him, at all, if the artist had made a point of trying to match Julia's lip color to the ink she used on him. There was something almost diabolical about that. It looked liked Julia had personally written on his back with one of her lipsticks. He shook his head and read it over and over again - "Property of Julia Grant". His body trembled at the enormity of it. Property. He wanted to cry.

Tears welled up in his eyes as despair crawled in from every corner. He steeled himself the best he could and got closer to the mirror, inching up on the sink, repositioning the hand mirror for a better look. He needed to really see it, up close, because it felt like it redefined him somehow. It was more than a simple tattoo. It made him feel... different.

He locked his eyes on it, fixedly staring until his vision started to get peculiar from the strain. It was like he was trying to erase the words off his back through force of will alone but it didn't go away. If anything that first word felt like it was still leeching itself deeper into his skin. Property. Had he become Julia's property? Not in the strictest legal sense, of course, but if he couldn't stand up to her wasn't it essentially true?

Eric fought back more tears and grit his teeth. How could he have allowed this to happen? Why did he let Julia do this to him? His free hand reached behind to the edge of the tattoo. The entire area was red and inflamed. Gently, his fingers traced over her name. She did own him!

"Eric?!" Julia called through the door, rapping on it, startling him. "Come on out. We need to talk."

His face twisted in annoyance. He just wanted to be left alone for awhile to try to make some sense of what happened, to understand what it meant. Now that he wore her stamp it meant something didn't it? Other than the smug expression she wore the entire drive home, she had the decency to leave him alone. Why not for the rest of the day? Why not-

The rap on the door came again, louder. "That's enough sulking and self-pity! It's nonsense," Julia said. "I'm not putting up with it! Get out here! Now!"

He did his best to calm down, took a deep breath, and eased open the door.

Julia was standing mere inches away, poised like a model in her stilettos, hands on hips, chest out, but visibly upset. She gestured for him to come out, turned, and walked away towards the living room without saying a word, fully expecting him to follow.

Wanting to cover the shame of the tattoo, he quickly retrieved his shirt from the floor and slipped it on, buttoning it while stumbling over to her.

"Sit down, Eric," she said, pointing to the couch.

He eased himself down nervously. Julia inched closer, arms folded, lips pressed tightly together, making him feel uncomfortable. Towering overhead in her stilettos, he felt almost childlike sitting there next to her.

"How's your tattoo?" she asked smugly.

"It...", Eric wasn't sure how to respond. It seemed to be aching all the more with her standing over him but he doubted she actually cared about how cruel and painful it felt. "It still hurts," he said.

Julia cocked an eyebrow in mock surprise, one corner of her mouth turning up in wry amusement. "I bet it does. You just had my name carved into your back with needles. But, that's not what I'm asking you and you know it," she said acidly. Bending forward slightly, she peered directly into his eyes like she was trying to see into his dark recesses to uncover whatever truth was hiding there. "It's a lot more than your silly suggestion of getting your ears pierced. I want to know how you feel about it?" she asked with more excitement and glee than seemed reasonable.

He stared back at her for a moment and withered under the gaze of eyes that seemed hungry to hear about his misery and scars. As much as he didn't want to believe it, there seemed to be nothing left of the old Julia at all. This version of her was someone to fear.

"It's on you - permanently," she reminded him with a mocking smile. "I want to know what that did to you on the inside. How-do-you-feel?" The words were measured, angry, her eyes steely hard.

"I-" he began, his mind then going blank. He reached behind himself tentatively and pressed lightly at his back, wincing from the soreness and pain.

Julia's smile ticked upwards in response.

He swallowed hard. The depth of the violation had cut deep, literally. But, he still wanted her. He was getting stiff just sitting next to her thinking about what was under that skirt, how close it was, what it smelt like, what it felt like to service her there. As twisted and perverse as it was, everything she had done to him made him want her even more.

"Well?! Tell me! How-do-you-feel!?"

"I... I feel-" he started, then a shutter ran down his body. She marked him as property! A thing! "I... feel... different."

"Different how, Eric?" she asked, unwilling to give him any place to hide.

His eyes dropped to the hem of her skirt, wishing for all the world to be satisfying the glorious treasure hiding behind the thin garment. The thought sent a shiver up his weak spine. Her pussy was mere inches away. He wanted to service her, worship at the seat of glorious womanhood. "You... marked me," he said with a quaver.

Julia nodded with a sinister smile, reveling in the victory, her eyes still hungry for more.

"I'm a less than...," he said shrugging sheepishly. "I'm not... your equal. I'm not sure I'm even a proper man." The words came out thin, weakly spoken as they strained their way out. Eric was drowning inside, a part of him struggling to stay alive to keep from falling any deeper under Julia's spell, but another part was dragging him under, ready, even eager to submit. Julia was the female. She was a beautiful, erotic, dominant, powerful woman. She was the boss. She had the pussy so she made the rules. Why struggle against the reality of it? He had become a piece of property to her, one she had simply decided to claim.

"Truth be told, you never really were my equal," she said dismissively. "I just pretended you were for a while. I'm beginning to think most women make that mistake with their men. Well, I'm done pretending."

"I don't want to fight with you," he said shaking his head fretfully. "You win," the words came out so softly she almost didn't hear them.

"What did you say?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

Eric looked up again with a sorrowful, jaw trembling, expression. "You put your name on me... I just... why? Why mark me as your... property? I need to know," he asked, touching the tattoo again.

Julia shrugged. "Aren't you?" she asked rhetorically.

He looked at her with a quivering jaw and blank expression.

"You're the one that asked to stay, Eric. I told you the price would be serious but you wanted to stay anyway."

"But, I didn't think-"

"That's one of your problems - you don't think," she said cutting him off. "Look, it doesn't matter. You accepted my authority; you said it multiple times - loudly. I told you it was the new vow for our marriage! You do remember that? Right?!"

Eric nodded pitifully, remembering the words he spoke.

"Then, you striped yourself and serviced me, on your knees, like a cheap whore," she said emphasizing the words.

He nodded again as a shudder suddenly rippled through him from the shame of it.

"A real man doesn't act like that now does he?" she asked with a mocking tone.

He shook his head almost imperceptibly.

"Well then, I guess you're not really a man," she said, the simple conclusion wrenching his core. "You're obviously not a woman. Seems to me, that makes you... more a pet of some kind," she said shrugging. "Pets are owned. Why wouldn't I consider you my property then?" she asked rhetorically, clearly enjoying the moment as a smile danced across her lips. "Besides, there was a time when men used to consider their wives chattel. You're a male in a female lead marriage. Turnabout is fair play, don't you think?" She stared at him ominously as she thought about Samantha's painting and the plight of women over the ages. "You're my chattel," she suddenly said. "Anyway you look at it, you're more my property than anything else."

Eric was too sullen to respond.

Julia was on a roll, she wanted to hurt him further. "Unless you prefer another word, a bit too S&M for my tastes but I think it fits you just as well - slave."

Eric winced. He could hardly believe what he'd just heard. Is that what he was really becoming? Julia's slave!? A momentary wave of dizziness suddenly enveloped him. He inhaled deeply to stave off the blackness edging into the corners as his heart pounded away. A feeling of lightheadedness and agitation remained in the wake of the wave but worse, horrifically, his body began betraying him yet again with a stiffening cock and deep sense of arousal. That Julia truly saw him as her property, maybe even her slave, was somehow darkly erotic. That part of him that wanted to press his lips to her feet was exhilarated beyond reason and terrified at the same time. As perverse as it was, he wanted her to use him however it pleased her, only hoping she wouldn't push him too far, at least not too quickly.

"Did that answer your question?" she asked in a mocking tone.

He nodded and said nothing, hoping she couldn't see his excitement and fear, preferring to look straight ahead at her skirt from where he sat, imagining that he'd caught a whiff of her pussy, the scent now locked into his brain forever thanks to his earlier submission and service to her.

"Good. Wear my name on you with pride, Eric. And be grateful I gave you a choice," she said. "I'm still tempted to take you back to get your little cock head pierced sometime or your ears done like you asked. Maybe I'll have them put another tattoo on you.

"Please don't," Eric pleaded.

"We'll see," Julia said with a shrug. "If you want to spare yourself the needle then do what I say, when I say it. Learn your place. You're the homemaker of the family now. That's what you are. Do your job and maybe I won't have to punish you."

He nodded, accepting her terms.

Julia stared at him with disdain. Even as pathetic and weak as he was she didn't think he'd let her put breasts on him, not yet anyway. She had a little more work to do first. "Honestly, you need to rid yourself of all that ugly male conditioning. It's not helpful. It's old, archaic, retrograde thinking," she declared, looking at him intently. "If you want to help yourself, you need to start thinking more like a woman. Male thinking is all about dominating and winning and controlling. A woman thinks more about sharing and supporting and nurturing. That's especially true with home and family. It's simply a better way."

Eric looked up to her with a wrinkled forehead, befuddled.

"In fact, I think it'll help set your mind right if you start thinking of yourself more as a woman," she said. "Think of it like role reversal. I go out into the world to make the money and you take care of our home and raise our children." Julia smiled mischievously, enjoying how confused and lost he looked. She bent over, next to Eric's ear, delightfully anticipating how deeply her next words would bruise his fragile ego. "In case you're not quite getting this," she whispered, "from your point of view that makes me the husband and you the wife."

His face went blank at Julia's pronouncement. Wife!? The word echoed in his mind as he looked at the amusement on Julia's face. Everything just seemed to be getting worse and worse. Not only did there seem to be no hope of returning their marriage to normal, but she expected him to start acting more like a woman and thought of him as the wife in their marriage!? This couldn't stand! No! He took a deep breath and prepared to defend some portion of what it meant to be a man. "Julia, I really-"

"Just stop, Eric. I don't even want to hear whatever nonsense you were about to say. You need to get used to the idea. Wife. You're the wife, the homemaker. And, when I have my baby, you'll get to be a mother too," she said. "It's going to be a lot easier for you after you embrace your new status. Just be happy I'm not expecting you to wear a dress and paint your lips for me," Julia added, thinking back to Samantha's painting again.

Eric closed his mouth, nodding, afraid to say anything else, praying inside that the last part wasn't some threat. Could she actually have considered doing that? A dress?! Makeup?! How could she even suggest it?! He tried to smile to appease her.

"Oh, by the way. Despite how you might feel about your tattoo I'm afraid we're not finished with all of your punishments for today," she said.

"What?! I-"

"No," she said waving her hand at him, cutting him off. "You need to learn, there are serious, long term, consequences for disobeying me."

Eric just stared at her, the soreness of his tattoo a reminder of how callous she could be.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to confiscate a few things, for a little while."

"Confiscate?"

"Well, I can't really ground you for what you did today but I can take some things away for a time," she said matter-of-factly. "You were planing to walk out on our marriage using my resources and my money to do it. It only makes sense to take them away as part of your punishment. I'm thinking a week, maybe two if you don't start shaping up."

Eric stared at her not knowing what to say.

"Everything - cash, credit cards, keys to your car... my other car I mean. I'm going to need your cell phone too."

"My phone?!"

Julia glared at him, daring him to argue with her.

He stopped instantly. She had threatened to cancel the cards earlier, even stop making payments on the car. After what she'd done to him with the tattoo, there was little doubt she would follow through on the threats.

"Would you like them now?" he asked contritely.

Julia smiled and slowly nodded as a smug look of victory danced across her face.

Eric got up off the couch and began collecting everything Julia had asked for. It only took a couple minutes to grab it all. The credit cards and cash looked odd in his hand, almost alien, as he realized they weren't really his anymore and, in truth, hadn't been for a long time. All his financial freedom and power were Julia's to command. On a whim, she could take it all away.

Trying not to dwell on it further, hands full, he walked over to Julia. She smirked at Eric with amusement then nodded towards the coffee table, her bright eyes filled with delight as he deposited everything on top of it.

"You'll get it back in a week or two," she said, passing judgement,"if you do your job at home that is."

"As a homemaker," he said, acknowledging his new station.

"That's right, Eric. Keep it in mind, at all times. That's what you are now."

Eric nodded with troubled eyes.

"I knew you were trainable," she quipped.

Eric nodded again, pouting, looking pitiful and childlike, at the snub.

"Now, go get me a glass of wine," Julia said casually as she sat down on the couch smiling, crossing her legs with a seductive elegance that made Eric's cock pulse.

He trotted off towards the kitchen to do her bidding, trying to ignore how servile and used he felt. He couldn't help but steal glances at her while pouring her wine. Just sitting on the couch, Julia was gorgeous, secure in her beauty and the power she had, confident, sublime. It was thrilling just being in the same room with her but concerning too, especially true now that he carried her mark. What might she be capable of, he wondered?

"Hurry up, Eric," she called out impatiently.

His cock stiffened as he carried the glass of wine over to her. A shiver went up his back handing it to her as one of her long nails lightly grazed his finger in the exchange. He stood there just watching her sip - moist, luscious red lips caressing the glass, mesmerizing him as she enjoyed her triumphs of the day.

"Turn around," she said to him, swirling her finger in a circle. "I want to see your tramp stamp."

With shame he turned around and lifted the back of his shirt to show her, hands on either side of the garment, tightly clenching at the fabric as he swallowed what little pride remained.

Suddenly, there was a flash and the sound of a picture being taken.

"Don't turn around, Eric!" she warned him.

He bit his lower lip anxiously. There was another flash. He began to inch his shirt back down.

"Keep your shirt up! I want more pictures," she said. There was another flash and another, followed by yet another.

He clenched his hands even tighter as the snaps continued, enough that they began to quiver at the sides of the shirt.

"This isn't working! Take the shirt off!" she commanded. "Toss it on the floor and cross your arms in front of you. I want an unobstructed view of your cute little back."

He tugged the shirt off awkwardly and dropped it to his feet.

"That's better. Honestly, I can't think of a better tramp stamp for you," she chuckled. "Now, cross your arms in front of you and stand still. Your back is going to make perfect wallpaper for the phones," she said as she clicked off another picture. "It'll tell everybody, at a glance, who's phone it is - mine," she declared.

Eric grimaced at the prospect of seeing his tattooed back every time he picked up his phone. It made losing it for a week or two easier at least.

"Nice to have my name on all my property don't you think?" she teased.

"Yes," he replied softly.

"Almost sweet of you to still be using our anniversary for your password," she commented as she took another picture with Eric's phone. "Don't ever change it. In fact, don't change any of the settings on it from now on, not without asking me first, especially the wallpaper, that stays until I find something better."

Eric just nodded in agreement, too upset and violated to utter a word. Somehow, he'd never considered she would take pictures of something so deeply private between them, but this wasn't the woman he'd married, he reminded himself. Of course, this Julia would take pictures. He should have expected it, in fact. She could post the pictures online, send them to friends, ruin him. Everything she did seemed to make him weaker and more vulnerable.

"Okay, I think I have enough pictures. You can put your shirt back on," she finally said, tapping away on Eric's phone.

He quickly retrieved his shirt from the floor and slipped it on to hide the tattoo.

"There," Julia said with a smile, clearly pleased by her efforts. She turned the front of the phone towards Eric so he could see it. Emblazoned across the screen was a closeup of his back, tilted so it ran diagonally, lower left to upper right, corner to corner, using the words on his back to declare that the phone, like him, was her property.

His shoulders sank. It was like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from.

Julia was thrilled. Eric would never be quite the same after today. Of course, it was just a small step in the overall plan, something to make him more compliant and submissive. With any luck, the tattoo could be used to help instill self-doubt too, maybe shatter that 'precious' masculine identity. She smiled maliciously at the thought, deciding to tear a hole in him.

"Why do you think you have that tattoo on your back?" she probed, sneering.

Eric looked at her with dismay. "Because you put it there." he said, trying to control his anger.

Julia shook her head slowly. "No, Eric," she said knowingly. "You have a tramp stamp on you because you're weak... or maybe...", an amused smile crept onto her lips before she continued, "you actually wanted it there."

Eric's heart rate spiked at the implication, his cheeks started to burn, the words cutting as deeply as the needles that had indelibly marked him. He started shaking his head in denial, refusing to accept the idea. How could she believe he wanted it?!

"You know it's true. Admit it to yourself."

"No," he said weakly, still shaking his head, still trying to dismiss the idea outright. It couldn't be true. Wanted it?! No. No. No.

"It's sad watching you lie to yourself," she said, rolling her eyes, smiling.

"No, you... you did this to me," Eric said, the accusation sounding more hollow than convincing, his face red with shame and embarrassment.

"Believe what you want," she said, shrugging with indifference. Just remember, I told you I had plans for you, plans that you'd hate." Julia flashed a sinister smile at him as she imagined him releasing the panel of a nursing bra with large, milk-laden nipples dripping with nourishment for her daughter. "I told you I was going to change you too. Know what? You're going to let me," she assured him. "Everything I want is going to happen because you're not strong enough to stop me and because, deep inside, a part of you wants it all to happen."

Eric shook his head miserably. He didn't want her to be right, not at all right.

"Look at yourself, Eric. No real man would have allowed an ownership tramp stamp to be put on him! Men don't get tramp stamps. Just accept the truth of it - you're a submissive. You want a dominant woman telling you want to do, maybe even need a woman telling you what to do," she said firmly. She looked at him with a serene smile, wholly confident and calm, her eyes smoldering with an erotic mysticism that virtually demanded adoration. "Well, you found a dominant woman. Honestly, I think you wanted to be marked so you couldn't deny what you were anymore."

Eric's head and neck were pounding. "Please...," the word came out in a whisper, "Julia, please stop," the plea so quiet it was barely audible.

"No."

"Why not?" he asked pitifully, anguished at the refusal.

"Because you have a long way to go yet and it's only going to be harder on you if you resist what I have in store for you," she said. "Life is going to be so much better for you, once you finally give up all that antiquated male thinking and simply accept your role in our marriage. It's what you want in your heart of hearts anyway, Eric. Stop pretending otherwise," she said.

Eric was feeling nauseous. He wanted to reject everything she said as lies but couldn't. If there was even a seed of truth to it... Was there? The very notion was noxious. Had his whole life been a lie?!

Julia pouted at him with indifference, watching him struggle, pleased at her efforts. "Don't feel too bad, Eric. You just happened to be born into the wrong gender at the wrong time," she said. "Men had their chance. You blew it. The world is a complete mess because of men. It's time for women to take over and lead.

"Take over?" he asked.

"Everything," she responded.
He looked at Julia and took her in, trying to see past his pain and frustrations - beautiful, sensual, successful, and dominant. Despite everything she'd done to him, he was still enthralled by her. He hated to admit it but maybe Julia really was superior to him. He looked past her then, to the wall beyond, suddenly feeling deeply inadequate and unworthy of her.

"Everything will be easier for you once you accept your proper place," Julia said. "Embrace our marriage, the way it is now. It's far better this way, with me in charge. Besides, it's the only way you get to keep me in your life and let's be honest - you want me badly, it's written all over your face."

Eric flashed her a weak smile, unable to deny the truth of it. She stood, poised and confident, then walked away, hips swaying in those marvelous stilettos she wore. Standing there, nearly motionless, he felt left behind as he considered his future under female rule, under Julia.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
Wife and Homemaker

Several days passed as Julia continued reordering her marriage, furthering the domination and control over her submissive, his old life fading into the past as she shaped and redefined him to her liking. For Julia, it had become surprisingly easy and natural to treat him with increasing disdain and cruelty with everything she did to him.

Eric glanced at the kitchen clock, worried, each minute bringing him closer to what he knew would be a difficult, likely humiliating evening. A guest was coming. Julia had invited her coworker Samantha home for dinner, a meal he was expected to cook and serve.

He had known for a few days, but it didn't make it any easier. If anything, it was more difficult. Julia's words, just a few nights before, were a painful reminder of how she felt about him. "I don't think it's too much to ask my wife to help support my career. I've given you plenty of notice. I even picked out the food already. The least you can do is prepare it. I don't expect complaints from you." With that, she had rejected all his concerns about playing hostess for the evening. He couldn't stop thinking about how dismissive and hurtful it had been, the word 'wife' being an especially cruel, unforgettable stab.

She had used the word several other times too, making certain to drill in his new status as her wife, making it clear she didn't think of him as a husband anymore, not even a man for that matter. It was a bitter pill to swallow but then everything had gotten worse after the tattoo. Being marked as her property had emboldened her to treat him like some lowly servant or maybe something even worse.

In addition to a growing list of household chores, nightly foot rubs had become routine. Shower duties had begun too. He had to bathe her, soaping her up in the shower and wiping her down with a large sponge while she moved under the falling water. Shampooing her long hair and massaging her scalp had quickly followed as did working in conditioners by carefully combing it into her wet, glistening mane. The last couple times she had him service her on his knees too, the shower pouring water over them as she twisted her hands in his hair, painfully directing his mouth to satisfy her lust. He'd simply been used for her pleasure with nothing offered in return. He wasn't even allowed to touch himself with the threat of being put in a cock cage if he dared.

It was during the last time he bathed her that she gave him another duty, one involving both of them, one that made him worry deeply about her future plans. He grimaced thinking about it then looked down at the red nail enamel and shinny top coat covering his nails, shaking his head in frustration, hardly believing she was doing this to him. With nail polish, they looked surprisingly and disturbingly feminine. He hated how girly they looked but needed to get used to it because, for now at least, Julia had ordered he do them daily, expecting him to learn how to do her nails by practicing on himself first!

He took a deep breath for courage, trying to think of it as just another task, fanning his fingers out, checking each nail for nicks or flaws. They weren't salon perfect by any means but after watching dozens of videos online and spending hours practicing they looked decent. He polished them per Julia's instructions after she left for work, after cleaning up the dishes from breakfast. All the layers were applied as required - under coat, nail color, and shiny top coat. They glistened a bright red, just like Julia's much longer, shaped nails did. Thinking on it, he couldn't recall a single day when Julia's sexy nails weren't some bright hue of red, just another detail she used to heighten her beauty and attractiveness, her sexual power.

Oddly, his own nails were giving rise to some peculiar, erotic feeling for some bizarre reason. He clenched his hands into tight fists and tried to dismiss the feeling but it persisted as he caught sight of his pretty thumbs. It was unnerving! He suddenly threw his hands down to his sides, out of sight, feeling ashamed. Was he getting turned on by his own polished nails or was it being forced by Julia to polish them!? Either way, it seemed shameful. He just wanted Julia to get home to inspect the work as soon as possible, only then was he allowed to remove the polish. He certainly didn't want fingers smelling like nail polish remover when Samantha arrived for dinner.

Upset, he retreated to his computer and just stared at it for a bit trying to clear his head, each heart beat throbbing at his temples, punctuating one dark thought after another. He powered up the computer and quickly jumped into his game, hoping to hide from the real world with all it's problems for a time, just like he had for so many months before Julia caught him in all the lies.

The moment his avatar came into view he smiled. He must have spent hundreds upon hundreds of hours playing as a muscle bound hero able to smite the enemies around him like gnats. If only the real world was so easy to master, he thought.

At first, the game seemed to be calming his jangled nerves, it was something else to focus on, a place where he was powerful and in control of the world around him. Dozens of foes were dispatched in a small number of key presses and mouse clicks, group after group, before he ran up to another group to repeat the carnage. He fell into the rhythm of the game for a time and everything was good. But it didn't last long. Worries and fears crept in slowly at first and began to take over. He couldn't stop from glancing down to his shiny, red nails either, finding them too difficult to reconcile with the manly avatar on the screen, it was distracting and annoying. After a bit, it was just too much to deal with entirely. He quit playing and exited the game, even more upset than before he started. He sat there for a time just staring at the screen, lamenting his situation, trying to puzzle out what to do next to make things better somehow. Then the screensaver winked in and his mouth dropped open.

To his horror, they were pictures of his tattoo! He was stunned! Julia! She must have put them there. Eric's face soured as one image after another slid into view, every picture Julia took had to be there! If she sent those pictures to friends or posted them online... He'd be a laughing stock!

Panicking, he slammed his fist into the keyboard to stop the slide show then stood up, chair flying back, ready to smash the monitor into the wall. He stood there trembling instead, feeling stupid and alone. Somehow, he had hoped things would get better, at least manageable - they weren't. He was in trouble, deep trouble.

Julia wasn't going to give up control, that was made very clear, but maybe she could be talked into being a tiny bit more reasonable, a little more compassionate. He had to try something. But, he didn't know how to even broach 'being reasonable' to Julia. He needed another perspective, new ideas, something...

Julia still had his cellphone but they had a home phone and he had contacts on the computer; it didn't take long to get the number. He didn't even want to consider how embarrassing and difficult the call would be. He took a deep breath trying to calm down. Desperation was closing in as rapidly as his old life was disappearing. Anything was worth trying.

He punched in the number, crossing his polished fingers for luck, as he tapped the last button, furrowing his brow as the line began ringing. His heart skipped a beat when his sister answered her phone.

"Julia, what can I do for you?" Emily answered cheerily.

For a moment the greeting startled him until he realized that Julia's name must have come up in caller ID. He felt all the more invisible and irrelevant, lost behind Julia's shadow.

"Em, it's me, Eric." His voice sounded a bit shaky.

"Eric?!" she said, sounding surprised.

"Yeah, Em. I'm... umm... at home... still at the apartment, on the... home phone," Eric said.

Emily didn't reply, only background noise from her office.

"Em? You there?" he asked. "You're not... mad at me are you?"

"What can I do for you little brother?" she asked simply after a couple long, uneasy seconds.

"Well, I... I'm sorry I hung up on you last time, Em. I was just-"

"That's fine. I'm not mad at you." she said stiffly, interrupting him. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"Well... it's just... EM," Eric started, more nervous than he thought he would be, "I need some advice... some help. I just..." His voice trailed off as he fought to stay calm.

"This is about Julia again, right?" she asked matter-of-factly.

Eric was silent, ashamed to admit how weak he had become.

"I appreciate that you feel you can come to me with your relationship issues, little brother, but honestly I'm not sure what I can do for you," Emily said. "For starters, it's clear you didn't take my advice last time you called me. Right? I told you to leave, didn't I?"

"Yes."

"But you didn't leave, did you?. You're still there, aren't you?" she asked rhetorically.

"Em... I... Yes. I'm still here, still with Julia," he said. "I tried to leave, really I did. I'd packed my bags and everything. I was ready to go. Then..."

"Then what? What happened?"

"She came home early and I..." Eric bit his lip at the memory of begging Julia to let him stay, the weakness and yearnings he felt in front of her. Emily just wouldn't understand the power Julia held over him, just looking at her made him weak in the knees. "I just couldn't leave her, Em."

The line went quiet again, only background noises of people moving about and a few women talking in the distance.

"Em? Please? I need help," he said. "You don't know what she's done to me," he almost whispered, the words trailing off as he remembered the pain of the tattoo and all the humiliations which followed.
"Done to you?" Emily asked, sounding skeptical.

It was Eric's turn to remain silent as his hand reached around to touch his back.

"Eric, what are you talking about? What did Julia do to you?"

"I don't want to talk about it, not that anyway. I just-"

"Why don't you want to talk about it?! Why did you call me if you don't want to talk about it? What did she do?"

"It's too embarrassing, Em. I don't..." He let his voice trail off again as he bit his lip, struggling to maintain his composure. How do you tell your sister that the woman you married tattooed you as a piece of property?

"Did she hurt you somehow?"

"No, Em. She didn't hit me or anything, nothing like that. I think I could have actually left if she had done that," he said. "She..."

"Come on, Eric. I can't help you if I don't know what she did," Emily insisted.

He took a couple deep breaths while his heart pounded like drums in his ears. "She made me get a tattoo," he spat out.

"A tattoo?"

"Yes!"

"She made you get a tattoo?"

"Yes!"

"Of what? Where?"

"I'd rather not say."

The line went quiet for a bit, each moment only serving to build his anxiety while Emily considered his situation. This wasn't going like he hoped. Maybe he shouldn't have told her about the tattoo. It just came out. Hopefully, she could see the injustice and find a way help. She just had to.

"Well, I don't know, Eric. I'm not really so sure that's all that unusual."

"What!?" he shouted in dismay. "You don't understand," he insisted.

"I guess not," she replied calmly. "Honestly, I think you might be overreacting."

He began pacing back and forth, waiting for her to show some sympathy, show some glimmer of concern over what Julia had done, his heart pounding all the louder as he waited.

"She tattooed her name on me, Em!" he finally blurted out in frustration.

"What?!"

"She took me to a tattoo shop and had her name tattooed on me!" Eric said indignantly. "By a woman artist no less! While other women in the shop watched me getting inked!" The words were tumbling out now as his cheeks starting to sting from the shame of it. He wanted his sister to feel the outrage and humiliation burning inside him. "She practically forced me into it!"

Emily didn't respond right away, Eric only heard more office noise and more women chatting in the distance as his distress and agitation grew.

"Did they tie you down or anything?" she finally asked with a touch of amusement in her voice.

"No!" Eric admitted.

"So, if you wanted, you could have left? Just gotten up and walked out?" she asked.

Eric didn't want to answer. Emily was quiet. She'd made her point - he let it happen. He could have left the shop but he didn't. He shook his head in frustration, feeling stupid for having brought it up. At least it was out there, what Julia was capable of, maybe that was good. He had to take some solace in that.

"Look, okay, just forget about the tattoo then! And don't mention it to anybody okay? I just... I need some help! I need to get Julia to listen to me again! You can help with that. Right? Maybe give me... a woman's perspective? Something? Because, I'm lost here. She won't listen to me about anything anymore!"

Eric waited, listening intently, hoping Emily would give him something to cling to, some womanly wisdom. Instead, it sounded like she was typing away on a keyboard, like she was too busy to even be bothered with him.
"Em??!" he shouted in a near panic.

"Sorry, Eric," she responded somewhat detached. "You did call me at the office. Just give me a second. I have to update somebody on a... project."

The typing continued as Eric waited, frustrated at being marginalized by another woman with a job.

"Sorry, Eric. I think she has what she needs now. You were saying Julia doesn't listen to you anymore?" she asked calmly.

Eric took a deep breath, trying to calm down, Emily's casual summary a disturbing oversimplification. "Em, my whole world is upside down." He struggled to keep his emotions in check. "I don't feel like I have control over my own life anymore," he insisted. "She's done things to me, Em. I can't even imagine what's next but... I know she has plans. I need to get through to her. I need..."

"Okay, Eric," she said calmly. "I think, I can help."

"Really?"

"Yes, but you need to calm down first. Okay?"

He nodded, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay, Okay," he said trying to spin back down. It had been impossibly difficult trying to confront Julia or get some measure of control back. Finally, there was an ally to help.

"I know change can be very hard, Eric," she said.

Eric nodded, trying to steel himself for what he would have to do to confront Julia.

"But, you're going to need to accept something. I don't think you're going to like this but you need to hear it," she said. "You ready?"

"Yes. I'm ready," he said nervously.

"Okay, listen closely, here it is - accept your situation and do whatever Julia tells you to do."

Eric's mouth dropped open. This wasn't what he expected or wanted at all! It was exactly the opposite! "But-"

"But nothing," Emily said, cutting off the objection. "Don't you see, Eric? Some part of you really wants a woman like Julia to dominate you. You need it. You wouldn't be where you're at if you didn't. Your actions prove it. You just don't want to admit it because you're embarrassed."

Eric was dazed by his sister's conclusions. It was nearly the same thing Julia had said to him earlier but this time from his own sister!

"No, Em. You don't really mean that," he insisted, his voice wavering.

"I do mean it, Eric, every word," she said with resolve.

"Em... I... don't know what to say," he admitted with a confused, worrisome expression twisting across his face. "I don't understand. You told me to leave her before."

"Well, that's right, I did," she said thoughtfully. "But, you didn't do what I told you. Don't you see? You don't really want to leave or you would have. You could have stopped Julia but you want to be in the situation you're in," she said succinctly. "You're causing yourself untold grief by fighting it. Just accept that you want to be dominated by Julia. You can't help yourself. It's in your nature. Maybe it's in the nature of most men for all I know. Listen to me and do what I tell you this time - crawl to Julia on your hands and knees, beg to kiss her feet, and do whatever she tells you from now on."

"B... But-".

"It's where you belong!" Emily snapped.

Eric scrunched up his face, cringing, his sister's words echoing in his mind, tearing at him like vultures, ripping away at what was left of his manhood, pecking it to the bones. The phone slipped from his hands and bounced on the floor. He stared at it through bleary eyes. Was that where he truly belonged, on the floor at Julia's feet? He remembered what it was like to be on his knees before her, looking up as she towered over him, reigning over him as the dominant, superior woman she was. He imagined what it might be like to crawl to her feet, just as his sister suggested, to plant soft kisses on her toes, to do it with reverence. Was that the fantasy of a submissive, he wondered. He dropped to his knees to pickup the phone. Emily was typing again. He waited until she finished, feeling shattered inside as a few quiet tears ran down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Emily," he said contritely, quavering. "I... dropped the phone."

"It's okay, Eric. Don't feel too bad. I'm sure this is a very confusing time for you. You called me looking for help, which I gave you, but I'm sure it's not what you wanted to hear," she said. "It's okay if you're disappointed but I told you the truth. You're twisting yourself into knots for no good reason. The answer has been in front of you the entire time. You have to be brave enough to grab it and accept it. Listen to me this time."

"I'll... think about what you said," he replied soberly, feeling lower inside than ever before.

"I hope you will. It's for your own good."

Eric just nodded as he wiped the wetness from his face.

"Good luck, little brother," she said cheerily, then hung up.

Eric sat there on the floor for a time, wounded, numb, trying to think of nothing at all for a time, trying to find some type of balance again. Then the phone started screeching, desperate to be returned to its cradle, rousing him out of a reverie. He struggled back to his feet unsteadily, sliding up the wall, and hung up the phone, stopping momentarily to stare at the unfamiliar sight of his colorful nails against the ivory handset.

He jerked his hand away, shaking his head in frustration. As much as he wanted to deny everything Emily said he just couldn't. Maybe, just maybe, she was right. He began obsessing over it, trying to find himself again. In the end, all that seemed to matter was Julia. He wasn't a man to her anymore. He was a homemaker, her wife, and property!

Julia balanced a bag of groceries on her hip as she opened the apartment door. It was going to be interesting to see how good Eric was at being a hostess for the evening. She resolved to send him to cooking classes for future dinners then grinned at the notion of enrolling him in a finishing school. Maybe he could even be taught to curtsy, she thought with a snicker.

Walking towards the kitchen, she began scanning the apartment. From casual inspection, the place looked immaculate. Eric had learned his cleaning lessons well and was finally becoming a fairly competent house keeper.

Dropping the groceries on the kitchen table, she smiled with satisfaction at how well the kitchen looked. A grimace briefly intruded as she recalled all the pointless battles over the dishes, back when she was ignorant of her power, then quickly twisted into a thin, cruel smile looking at the now spotless, gleaming sink. Being a dominant woman clearly had advantages.

Looking for her weak, little submissive, Julia walked to the back of the apartment, to the computer room, then came to an immediate and abrupt stop, shocked at what she saw. Eric was sitting in front of the computer, hunched over, cradling his head with prettily painted fingers, sobbing, while images of his tramp stamp flashed by overhead. He was completely unaware of her, lost in grief.

She could hardly believe what she was watching. His shoulders shook with a wrenching depth of sorrow as he continued to sob. It was disturbing enough, the grief so deep, she began feeling empathy towards him. She wriggled her shoulders and sighed at the intrusive feeling.

Eric quickly twisted around, alerted by the sound. His face was wet and stained with tears as he tried to mouth something. The words came out weak, inaudible.

Julia shook her head, unable to make sense of it.

"I'm sorry," he mouthed, the simple words coming out strained and breathy.

"About what?" she asked, genuinely confused.

"Everything," he said simply, shaking his head, looking towards the ground.

Julia's eyes narrowed as the empathy began to fade.

"It's just hard for me," he complained. "I was brought up thinking a man was supposed to... take charge. Lead. Be in control. Take care... of my wife, provide for her." He shrugged his shoulders. "That's the stuff I was taught to be, what I had to be, to be a man... to be worth something." He looked up towards Julia, daring to meet her eyes, shaking his head. "But, I'm none of that," he said with a quaver, searching her face for some sympathy.

Julia looked back at him sitting there in misery, fully aware that she had the power to comfort him, to throw a life line to his shattered ego and rescue what was left of the old Eric. She smiled to herself. She wasn't about to rescue the worm.

"No, you're not any of those things. You can't provide for yourself, let alone provide for me. Men don't grovel like you! Men don't wear nail polish like you. Truthfully, by your thinking, you're not a man at all," she said, the accusation landing like a whip to his back.

Eric's head dropped. He couldn't bear to look her in the eyes any longer. She watched him agonize over failure, taking perverse delight in his struggle. She took a few steps forward, closing in on him, towering over Eric's hunched frame, gratified that fate had made her a woman and not some worm of a man like the wretch before her. "I want you to stop resisting me and accept your new life," she said.

He nodded, feebly.

"I'm serious. If you're really sorry, if you want to redeem yourself with me, I expect total, complete and swift compliance with everything I tell you to do. And I mean everything!"

Eric sat there, nearly motionless, trying to accept his fate.

"I told you before that this is a female lead marriage. You accepted that, agreed to it!"

He nodded his head.

"Didn't I tell you that your place was at my feet?"

He nodded.

"Then why are you sitting in that chair?!"

He glanced up to see the unmistakable resolve in her eyes then quickly tumbled forward, out of the chair, to the floor. He crawled forward as his sister had suggested earlier then bent his forehead down to her shoes.

Julia stared down at him grinning, the heat between her thighs growing, dampening her panties with the excitement and power she felt. "From now on, whenever I come home, I want you to greet me on your knees. Do you understand?!"

"Yes, Julia," he said, somehow feeling gratitude for her dominance and commands. He hated it and loved it and wanted more, terrified by his increasingly twisted nature.

"From now on, you obey me without hesitation! Do you understand?!"

He nodded, shocked at the prospect, frightened at how easy it was for him to agree.

"You can stop worrying about being a man. Don't let it bother you anymore. I told you before, you can think of yourself as my wife and a homemaker. That's what you are now! Not a man! I expect you to embrace it!"

Looking pathetic, he raised his head from her shoes a few inches and, not knowing what to do, raised up a hand to ask a question.

"What?!" Julia responded, irritated.

"I'm thinking I... you said before... it was okay for me to look for a job. So-"

"No! That part of your life is over now!" she said resoundingly. "I told you before that I wanted you to be a full-time homemaker. Now, I'm demanding it. That's what you are from now on - a homemaker. No more debate."

"But-"

"No! A job outside our home isn't an option for you any longer. You're silly little job search is over. In fact, you're going to delete everything you're using for job hunting, all your accounts on job sites, emails, resumes, everything. You don't need any of them anymore," she said.

Eric was petrified. With a simple pronouncement, every plan he'd ever had for his life was wiped away. Gone.

"Wife and homemaker - that's you," she said. "If you can't remember it, I'll have that tattooed on you too so you can't forget. Where shall we put it? Your wrists perhaps? Maybe across your chest?"

He didn't say a word, certain she might do it.

"Now, tell me what you are!" she demanded.

Eric lowered his head back to the floor, the scent of warm leather mixing with the odor of the carpet. What was he becoming!? What would she do if he disobeyed!? "I'm your...," he started, not wanting to say the rest, but fear making it tumble out anyway, "wife and homemaker." His cock twitched in response.

Julia curled her lips in triumph. "Kiss my feet, wife," she commanded.

He pursed his lips and kissed her instep and then the tops of her toes where they went into the shoe, sweet tow cleavage, her other foot quickly followed, soft, gentle kisses, each one making his cock ache a little more with need.

"Good, Eric. Good. Keep kissing them," she said. "Do my ankles too, up to the knee." She watched him applying one soft kiss after another as he worked his way up, her panties slowly getting damper as he paid homage to her. Dominating the little worm was a heady aphrodisiac. "I hope you realize this changes everything. Now that your our full-time homemaker... we can consider children. I can have a baby now," she said.

The kisses slowed as he listened more closely.

"Of course, 'mothering' would be added to your list of job duties," she said.

He stopped kissing and froze.

"Are you ready to be a mother to our daughter?" she asked.

"Mother? A daughter? I-".

"Of course, a daughter. Actually, twin girls would be ideal," she enthused. "That's all the babies I think I'd ever want. Two new lives to carry on for us in this world."

Eric rolled back on his knees, keeping his eyes to the floor. He looked troubled, like he wanted to ask something but was struggling for the words. Julia could practically read his mind.

"Yes, I do mean daughters, if that's what's troubling you. Why would I burden a child of mine with... maleness?" she said with disdain. "Besides, I intend to leave the world a little better place if I can - that means properly educated girls."

Eric nodded subtly. Julia watched him for a few moments deal with the reality of not being allowed a son, of being the only male in a family of females. She let him brood over his future for a bit, allowing the silence to settle around them before teasing out the next part.

"There's a medical group..." she started. His eyes went wide in surprise, a chill suddenly creeping into his bones. "They can make sure we only have girls," she announced. "So if you were thinking we might have a boy, forget it. Furthermore, you don't get a say - it's my womb."

He stared off into the distance trying to process what she said. With every turn, something else was being taken away, altered by Julia to some female dominant alternative. It was a daunting reality but instead of warning him away the danger made it more exciting, deepening the erotic thrill of surrender, broadening the addiction to her.

She so wanted to tell him that the medical group was going to make sure he'd be needing a bra long before their daughters would, that he'd be lactating for them, but it still felt risky, she wanted to be sure he was fully under her control first. "I hope you truly understand everything I'm telling you. The life you knew as a man is over," she said. "You're going to be my little, agreeable, submissive wife from now on. My full-time homemaker, fully dependent on me financially and every other way possible," she said with zeal. "And you're going to mother my daughters too."

Eric slowly raised his head and looked into Julia's eyes and quickly averted away knowing she meant every word.

"I told you I had plans for you," she said.

He took a deep, fitful breath to gather some courage. "Please be kind to me," he said softly. "Please... I really want to be with you. I want you happy, I do. It's just a lot for me. I... Please be patient with me while I figure it all out. Please?"

Julia looked at the man she once respected with utter contempt. He'd become such a pathetic, begging, little worm. "Awe, poor, Eric." She grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "I have news for you. I'm going to be cruel to you. I'm going to change you in ways you can't imagine right now. And honestly... I haven't even figured out all the things I want to do with you yet, how far I want to take this." She sneered wickedly at him, her eyes glazing over for a moment as she lost herself to sadistic visions of possible futures. "It'll be interesting to see how you turn out when I'm done with you."

The hair on the back of Eric's neck stood up. He was terrified but still tremendously excited, his cock straining in his pants for release.

"Only one thing can save what's left of you but you already failed at that once - find the strength to leave me. I won't try to stop you. In fact, I won't ever force you to do anything," she said, giving Eric some sense of relief, then painfully taking it away just as quickly. "But, I will demand obedience if you want to stay with me. Otherwise, I'll kick your sorry ass out and you'll lose me forever. It's up to you." She released his hair with a sneer. "Now, lick my heels! Accept what you've become! Submit!"

Eric was wide-eyed and petrified.

Julia angrily jerked a pointed finger towards her stilettos. "Crawl, lick my heels! Don't miss any spots either!"

Eric swallowed hard as a tingle ran up his back. Moving slowly at first, head down, he did as he was told, crawling between her legs, face to the floor, then began licking as she demanded. It started out slow. The taste was stale, a bit bitter and foul. He didn't want to believe he was doing it but he was, each stroke of the tongue making the next easier. What was she moulding him into!? It didn't seem to matter. Grit made it's way into his mouth but he kept licking, first the spike to the right, then the other, and back again. It was foul but he licked for all he was worth until both thin, black spikes glistened. Then he inched back, suppressing a dry heave from what he had just done. He took a deep breath trying to calm himself, then carefully backed away to kneel before her, gently kissing the top of each foot, hoping to placate her.
Julia looked down at him with a suspicious but satisfied smile, enjoying the sour expression plastered across his lips. "Not bad, worm. You'll get better with practice," she said.

Eric attempted to smile, embracing the words like praise.

"If you're a good boy tonight, maybe I'll let you lick something else later," she said.

The very notion thrilled him to the core - he'd be used, on his knees or back, forced to satisfy her womanhood, unable to satisfy his own needs, but it still thrilled him.

"You have other work to do right now though. I left everything you'll need to make dinner tonight in the kitchen. The recipe is with it. Get started," she said gesturing towards the kitchen.

He got up slowly, staring at the incredible beauty before him, still in turmoil over what she had just made him do yet ready to serve her in the kitchen. He held out his hands towards her, hoping to get permission to use the remover after inspection.

Julia looked annoyed. "You need to get dinner started! Now, get going!" she commanded.

"But, my nails need to be-"

"I'm not interested in them now. I'll look at them later. Maybe that'll give you some incentive to work on dinner. Now do what I said, get going!"

He sped out of the room and towards the kitchen, his girly hands leading the way.

"Don't disappoint me tonight," he heard her yell over his shoulder. "Sam better love your cooking!"

Worry settled in as he quickly unpacked the groceries and began reading the recipe Julia had printed out. He winced looking at his nails, shaking his head in frustration over the whole situation. He needed to do well tonight. Julia needed to be happy. He groaned inside thinking like that but keeping her happy was important.

Julia casually walked into the bedroom and began looking though her closet for an outfit for the evening as Eric began preparing dinner. After a time, she picked out a sleeveless white blouse and paired it with a simple black skirt, an understated but pretty outfit when properly accessorized with pearls and an elegant pair of black pumps.

A wicked, self-satisfying smile settled onto Julia's face as she slipped off her dress from the day, thinking about the evening ahead. She walked over to the vanity and gazed into the mirror, pleased at how well she looked in a simple bra and panties, looking forward to dominating and humiliating Eric in front of Samantha, showing her how far she had evolved as a dominant woman. It would be an emasculating evening for her worm, all the more priceless because she had decided to keep him in nail polish all night long! The thought made her feel naughty, bad. She giggled thinking about how panicked Eric was going to be, still wearing nail polish when Samantha arrived.

Aroused by everything she had set in motion, she traced an index finger over her bra, slowly, luxuriating in the sensation as she watched herself in the mirror. Hopefully, soon, he would accept anything she demanded. The very notion of having so much power over some male made her swoon. She bit her lip at the notion, the heat and dampness in her panties growing the more she thought about the abuse Eric would suffer. She squeezed her thighs together, leaning against the vanity, as a soft moan escaped her lips, imagining what Eric was going to look like with boobs, first small ones, then larger, and still larger after that as she ripped away his masculinity.

She was really going to do it to him - ruin him as a man, feminize her pathetic submissive, turn him into a obedient servant, maybe even a willing slave. She gasped at the thought as she ran a finger along her hungry cleft and began rubbing it, pushing her wet panties inside as deep as they'd go, her face turning flush in the mirror. It wasn't enough and soon nimble fingers slid inside the waistband to stroke her little nub, to dream about the future with a compliant, feminized male. The intensity increased as her other hand slid inside her bra to tug at stiffening nipples. She kept teasing them, first one, then the other while the pace increased. Her plans were so wicked! Eric with huge... womanly... milk laden breasts, soaking his bra while he cried over losing his manhood! A moment later she bit her lip to keep from screaming, moaning as a sweet climax washed through her, rocking her pelvis as she collapsed onto the vanity! When it finally subsided her hand was soaked with her own nectar.

"Julia?" Eric yelled from the kitchen. "Making good progress with dinner. Do you think we can have the nail inspection now?"

"No!" she yelled back. "Finish dinner! Stop bothering me!"

Eric asked a couple more times as the evening wore on, desperate to remove the polish before their guest arrived. Julia continued to refuse him, with as little as a shake of the head and a bemused smile. Finally, as she was refreshing her lipstick, Eric shuffled timidly into the bedroom and dropped to his knees to beg.

"Am I being punished?" he asked, holding out his fingers towards her.

Julia shook her head, arching an eyebrow in surprise at the question. Eric looked so frustrated and confused over something so ordinary to her it was almost comical.

"I don't feel comfortable," he began. "Not with other people, not with nail polish on me. I... please... I promise I'll practice... watch videos, whatever it takes. I want to do your nails for you. Really I do. Guys just don't... it's not right. I'm not a... pansy. I..." His face contorted as he sought more words to plead with but his mouth just hung open, voiceless.

"You don't seem to get it, Eric. Stop your whining. Stop thinking of yourself as a man! You never were much of one anyway," she said. "Start thinking of yourself as my wife! A woman! Why worry so much about nail polish?"

Eric looked gobsmacked, his mouth hanging open in shock, trying to figure out something to say.

Then, the doorbell rang.

CHAPTER TWELVE
Samantha Comes to Dinner

Eric's eyes went wide with dread as he stared towards the front door and froze. The very idea that somebody other than Julia would see him wearing nail polish was completely paralyzing.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Open the door for our guest," Julia said firmly.

He started walking to the door, the panic making his hands tremble as his heart began racing. Julia really wanted to humiliate him in front of one of her co-workers! Why?! The moment the door opened he'd become the office joke, Julia's stay-at-home man-wife who polished his nails - an effeminate pansy! He desperately wanted to scurry off but Julia's eyes were hard. He reached for the doorknob and looked towards her again, panicking.

"Open the door, Eric," she said menacingly.

"Please," Eric mouthed silently, begging.

"Open the door now or I will!"

He turned the knob and pulled, jumping back a few steps as it opened, dropping his hands down and back to hide them.

Samantha smiled uneasily at Eric, the corners of her mouth twisting, her eyes tightening as they swept over him. "I'm guessing you're Eric," she said sweetly.

He nodded and struggled to project something resembling a smile despite the panic he felt. "Yes. Come in?" he said with uncertainty, backing away from the door.

Tall stilettos clicked on the tiles announcing Samantha's entry as her little black dress swished over smooth, trim legs. She looked both elegant and sexy, the little dress caressing lovingly over soft curves, hugging a trim waist and flaring out at the hips, the hem dancing halfway up her thighs. Eric was enthralled.

Julia stood some paces back from the door, watching to see what would happen next, wanting to savor the moment she knew was coming. Eric shut the door behind their guest and the hairs on the back of his neck rose up immediately. He glanced back at Samantha and caught surprise and bemusement in her eyes. It was obvious what was coming next, the heat in his cheeks rising from the shame of it.

An amused, curious expression overtook Samantha's face as she darted her head about to get a better look at Eric's hands. She seemed to be struggling to contain herself from an outburst of laughter. "Well, aren't your nails cute," she said. "I don't think... I've ever seen a man with nails as pretty as yours," she said stifling another laugh, "not even once."

"Stop trying to hide them, Eric," Julia commanded. "Let her get a good look."

He did as he was told, fanning his fingers out, cheeks burning with shame, wishing he could somehow just disappear.

"That's your color isn't it?" Samantha asked Julia. Before Julia could answer she turned to Eric. "You aren't stealing your wife's nail polish are you?" she asked. Both women laughed at the joke while Eric's cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red.

"No, no," Julia said, still catching her breath. "I'm training him to do my nails. I have him practicing, on himself."

"Oh, that's a great idea," Samantha enthused. "And, it's a beautiful color on you too, Erica," she said with a smirk, having feminized his name. Julia laughed some more, Samantha joined her.

He just stood there, accepting the ridicule in silence, feeling utterly insignificant before the two women, both of whom had prettier painted nails than him. Why couldn't they have just left him alone over it, pretended it was normal for a man to color his nails too? Oh no, it was only okay for them, for the females.

"Goodness, where's my manners," Julia said, her laughter at Eric having subsided to a soft chuckle. "Welcome to my home, Sam," Julia said warmly. "I'm so glad you could make it tonight. We really should have done this sooner." She crossed over to Samantha and gave her a polite hug.

"We really should have," Samantha responded enthusiastically, then pulled Julia even closer, tighter, the embrace pressing their breasts together, enough to bulge their garments suggestively outwards at the sides. The women smiled at each other as they separated.

"Let me show you around," Julia said, taking a deep breath.

The women began walking further into the apartment, leaving Eric to follow, watching them from behind as they sauntered away, the hems of their garments high on their thighs, long legs and heels looking so lovely, both moving with an erotic grace that made his cock stiffen. They looked incredible, like goddesses, Eric thought, feeling suddenly inadequate to be in the same room with them.

"Your nails really are pretty," Samantha said to Eric over her shoulder, breaking him out of the spell the two of them had cast on him.

He smiled awkwardly, unsure how to take the compliment.

Samantha thought she hid her contempt for Eric well. It was clear that Julia deserved so much better than what he could ever offer, she thought bitterly. It was a delightful surprise to see that Julia had put him in nail polish - a perfect opportunity to rub his face in something, one she fully intended to exploit.

The three of them stopped walking once they were in the center of the apartment, where the kitchen, living room, and dinning room all intersected. Samantha turned towards Eric like a mantis preparing to consume the smaller male once it's service was no longer needed, convinced that eradicating his masculinity and demoralizing him were the keys to eventually winning Julia's heart.

"I was thinking," Samantha started, "I do like that red on you but you really need to let your nails grow out. How do you expect to properly care for Julia's nails if you only practice on your measly, short ones?"

Eric looked at her aghast, unsure of how to respond. Long nails? Was she kidding?!

"Julia, you should consider having him keep his nails a lot longer, more like yours," Samantha said. "If he's practicing doing your nails he needs to be practicing on long nails, I would think. Right?"

Julia nodded thoughtfully. "Honestly, that probably would be better," she admitted. "I'll have to seriously think about that."

Eric stared at Julia, tensely waiting for a reprieve.

"Eric, don't cut your nails until I tell you to," she ruled.

"What?!" he objected.

"You heard me. I'll let you know when you can cut you fingernails. I want you to grow them out a bit," she said. "I'll figure out how long they need to be later but no cutting or trimming them from now on without my permission."

Julia stood there, arms crossed, clearly not willing to accept further debate over it while Samantha smiled cheerily at his predicament. He didn't dare object further.

"Okay," he said meekly.

Samantha looked like she wanted to squeal with delight.

"When they get a little longer start shaping them a little. Eventually, you can taper them like I keep mine," she directed. "And don't you dare break any of your nails either or I'll take you to a salon and have them put acrylics on you."

Samantha beamed at the announcement.

Eric nervously nodded in agreement, suddenly more terrified of breaking a nail than growing them out. How did women keep their nails long anyway? Women broke their nails all the time, didn't they! He groaned inwardly at the new burden.

"Oh! I brought a couple small gifts for dinner," Samantha announced, changing the subject. She held up a red gift bag she had been carrying. "One is for the mistress of the house," she said with a tiny dip towards Julia, presenting her with a bottle of wine from the bag.

"Very nice. Thank you so much," Julia said.

"The other," she began, "is for our hostess...," she said with a giggle. "Sorry... a gift for our host," she said correcting herself. Grinning infectiously, she presented the gift bag to Eric.

Suspiciously, he reached into the bag, past the tissue paper, his fingers touching what felt like... cloth. He couldn't imagine what it might be. He tugged on the material, pulling it slowly out of the bag. He was immediately confused at what he saw, black material with large, white polkadots. As it fully emerged from the bag it was obvious it had broad white ties attached too with a bottom that flared out. Eric held it up and grimaced as he flipped it around a couple times, shocked. "This... it's... a ladies apron," he declared.

Julia stifled a laugh at the very feminine apron, full length, with a frilly neckline and what approximated a full skirt. Anybody tying the garment around them, from the front at least, would look like they were wearing a dress.

Eric held it out towards Julia, trying to give it to her, hoping to be rid of the thing.

"Oh no," Samantha complained, "I bought it for you."

"But it...," he started, then looked to Julia frowning, hoping she would pluck it away and take charge of the apron-dress, freeing him of it.

"Don't be rude, Eric," Julia said. "You put that on and thank Samantha for thinking of you. Sorry Sam, he's still getting used to his proper place. He's being pointlessly rude right now."

Eric stared at the apron with utter dread, the very notion of wearing something so completely girly was absurd.

"Put it on!" Julia shouted.

He lowered his eyes in submission and raised the apron by the ties on top, tying it with some difficulty until it was suspended around his neck. The body of the apron-dress came next. He wrapped the broad ties attached at the waist of the garment around him, bringing them around twice, before tying them into a bow in front, his pretty fingers trembling as he finished.

The skirt of the apron circled almost completely around his thighs, looking very much like a polkadot dress from the front and sides. Only the open back and his regular clothes underneath made it clear that it was really only a fancy apron he wore. Both women stared at him, their amusement brimming over the top as they struggled to contain themselves.

"If I'd known you had him doing his nails I would have bought the red one instead," Samantha said with a giggle, quickly pursing her lips to hold in an outburst. "He would have looked so precious with matching nails," she added with a heartier giggle slipping out.

Julia nodded in agreement, her face filled with mirth. "And maybe a matching lip color and blush," she suggested with a chuckle.

Samantha nodded in agreement. Both women then burst into laughter.

Eric kept his eyes downcast, his cheeks hot from embarrassment as the women's laughter pelted his battered ego. He'd failed Julia as a husband he reminded himself. As terrible as it was to have another woman involved, if Julia wanted to disgrace him like this then maybe he deserved it, he concluded.

"Well, thanks for the gifts, Sam," Julia said, gently dabbing at the corners of her eyes from all the laughter. "I needed a good laugh. Hopefully, Eric's cooking is better than his sense of style," she snickered.

"Let's hope he's good at something," Samantha said wryly.

"Well, he has finally learned how to wash dishes and keep the sink clean," Julia said happily.

"That's something, I guess," Samantha said. She touched Julia briefly on the arm then, smiling at her. "You do have a charming apartment," she added warmly, changing the discussion.

"Oh, thank you. But honestly, I plan to redecorate. Eric picked a lot of this stuff out. I've never really liked it that much. I'm going to put some color in here, change the artwork, get rid of Eric's vulgar sculpture. I've never liked that grey tower thing anyway. Besides, it's too phallic, bad energy," Julia said.

"I'd have to agree," Samantha said, grimacing at the sculpture.

The women chatted a bit more about the apartment while Julia gave Samantha the full tour. Eric didn't want to follow, listening to Julia's plans for her apartment was too heartbreaking and depressing. It was obvious that she would be making all future decorating decisions without any regard for his feelings or thoughts at all. He went to the kitchen instead, continued to work on dinner and tried to ignore what they were doing.

The way things were going, he may as well be a pet, a companion animal to be trained and groomed to her liking. He threw the oven door open to look at the casserole, quickly tossing it on top of the stove with hot pads then slamming the oven shut. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. A pet, maybe it wasn't too far from the mark, he realized, thrusting the spike of a temperature probe into the casserole to check on it, playing the good homemaker, his polished nails unavoidable reminders of his new status.

Julia and Samantha returned from the back rooms giggling in the hallway as they made their way back towards Eric. "Seriously?" Samantha asked with a giggle, continuing some conversation Eric hadn't heard.

"Yes!" Julia replied. "The character he plays in the game is the most muscle bound, hulking, macho man you've ever seen," she said. Suddenly coming into view of Eric in his apron-dress, holding the temperature probe between his pretty nails, both women burst out in laughter.

Eric's jaw began to quiver at the ridicule, knowing how ridiculous and unmanly he looked. He turned away to hide his face, presenting the back of the apron to both women, and approached the sink to rinse the probe under the faucet, staying there far longer than needed, running pretty fingers up and down the metal spike, until the peals of laughter quieted.

"I shouldn't be so hard on him," Julia said, recovering from the fit of laughter. "After all, I guess it makes sense that a... sissy might want to be more manly."

"I don't know," Samantha challenged. "Maybe... he really wants to be a woman and he's hiding behind the muscle bound brute because his brain can't come to grips with the sad truth of it."

"Maybe," Julia considered with a shrug. "Is that it, Eric? Do you really want to be a woman?" she teased him.

Eric shook his head feebly, eyes cast downwards, and said nothing. He felt absurd in the apron-dress and nail polish, certain that he really did look like a sissy. At least he had a shirt and pants on underneath the terrible thing.

"Well, I doubt he'd admit to it," Samantha said. "I think that's in the 'man code' someplace. It's one of the last things they'd ever want to admit to, like being a woman is one of the worst possible things ever."

"And then they pursue us with their tongues hanging out for so much as a smile," Julia said.

The women laughed at the absurdity of men, sharing a few more antidotes to underscore how irrational and how hypocritical males were. It was male bashing at its finest, Eric thought, contemptible; but, he was in no position to defend his gender. Their smalltalk continued for a time while Eric kept working in the kitchen, waiting on the women to decide when he would start serving.

By the time Eric was running a cloth over the kitchen faucet, polishing it to a nice gleam, the women took their seats at the dinning room table. Julia gave Eric little more than a tiny nod to compel him into action.

Immediately, he brought out their salads and served them. When he retrieved his own to join them he was abruptly stopped by a halting glare. Julia's expression was one of contempt and surprise. It eased as he took a few steps back towards the kitchen. He almost dropped his salad at the sudden realization that he wasn't wanted at their table, that he wasn't worthy enough to sit with them. He was expected to serve them and to have his meal in the kitchen like a mere servant.

Samantha had her back to Eric, seemingly oblivious to the small drama being played out. He continued to inch back towards the kitchen with Julia checking on him the whole way. When he finally sat down at the kitchen table, Julia granted him a subtle nod of approval then focused her whole attention back on her guest. He had been dispatched by her without saying a single word.

The conversation at the 'woman's table' was fairly routine, mostly office gossip and business talk. He felt entirely excluded. It was hurtful too, listening to all the vital, engaging activity occurring at their company while his own days had become a grind filled with service and submission.

He sat there in silence picking at his salad, his polished nails constantly in view to remind him of what he was apparently becoming. "Pathetic sissy," he whispered softly to himself, condemning his downfall. "You're not worthy to sit with the real women, sissy," he added contemptuously, berating himself, the women paying him no mind at all, passionately chatting back and forth like song birds.

They continued on like that for a time. Eric had barely poked through half his salad when Julia summoned him over with a few jerks of a finger. He rose awkwardly from the kitchen table, smoothed down the skirt of the apron and walked over while Samantha struggled to restrain her glee at Julia's growing dominance.

"More wine for us, Eric," Julia said. "Then you can serve the casserole."

He walked away sheepishly, to do her bidding. The part of him that wanted to rebel was still screaming inside, appalled at his behavior and willing servitude. It was getting easier to ignore that voice though, to simply comply, regardless what Julia asked. Blind acceptance seemed easier, better.

"Did he move that slow before the tattoo too?" Samantha asked Julia with a shrug.

Eric stopped cold and turned to look at Julia, his face twisted with bewilderment.

"Does your little back still hurt?" Samantha asked mockingly, pouting at him.

"She knows?!" Eric asked with a shout.

"Of course, she knows," Julia responded, snidely. "I'll tell anyone I want about your sissy tramp stamp!"

"Can I see it, Julia?" Samantha asked, excited.

"Of course," Julia said. "Turn around and show her your tattoo."

He leveled his eyes at Julia with a deep, pleading stare. "I... I thought that was private... between us... you'd keep it between us. I don't-"

Rage flashed in Julia's eyes at his resistance. It was enough to inspire her to even further cruelty, to teach him a lesson. She got up from her chair and strode over to Eric menacingly, getting up in his face, nearly touching. She stood there for a moment, looming over him, slightly taller in heels, eyes sharp and clear, scowling at him. "Take off the apron," she commanded.

Eric stared at her, terrified at what was happening. "Please don't force me to do this," he whispered in a tiny, frightened voice.

"We've been through this. I don't force you to do anything. You always have a choice. You're free to leave anytime you want!" Julia said, pointing towards the door.

Eric dipped his head down, wanting to avoid Julia's fierce glare. His fingers began to tremble as he pulled at the ties of the apron, his red nails a bright contrast to the basic black and white of the apron, the bow at the waist giving away with a simple tug.

Julia spun him around by the shoulders as the apron came free, deftly pulling it over his head. Samantha had turned her seat around to view the spectacle of Eric's humiliation, reveling in every moment.

"Take your shirt off," Julia demanded. "I want Samantha to see what you really are. Show her!"

He tugged at his shirt in the back, untucking it from his pants, and lifted it hesitantly, revealing just a small portion of the script written into his flesh, hoping it would satisfy Julia and leave some small portion of his dignity intact.

"I said, take your shirt off, Eric!"

He began fumbling with the buttons, the trembling of his fingers and the realization that a stranger was about to see his shameful marking making it awkward and slow. As the last button was undone he looked over his shoulder at Julia, locking eyes with her.

"Off!" she shouted.

He pulled one arm out of the shirt and Julia abruptly pulled it off him the rest of the way, revealing his back to Samantha.

Eric dropped his head down in shame.

"Property of Julia Grant," Samantha said, reading it out-loud. Eric cringed.

"It's supposed to be a special type of ink too," Julia said. "Harder to laser off. Extra durable or something, not sure why exactly. The artist said it was something special," Julia shrugged. "I don't think he's getting rid of that tattoo very easily."

Julia turned towards Eric, wanting to drive the point home, and whispered loudly, dramatically into his ear. "That's not coming off, Eric. Not ever."

Samantha was tingly at the pronouncement. If only all males were similarly marked by their wives the world would be such a better place, she was sure of it. But right now she was only concerned with one male - he was in her way and needed to suffer for it.

"Julia? I hate to ask," Samantha said, trying to sound innocent, "but can I get a slightly better look? I want the full effect, really see how it fits on his back but... his pants are a tiny bit in the way. See? How some of the letters are covered? The very bottom of some of them?"

Julia shrugged then looked at Samantha and the smile on her face. It was an opportunity. "Pull your pants down so Samantha can see better," Julia said.

Eric was grateful that he couldn't see their faces as he undid his pants and slowly pushed them down a few inches. His face burned from shame, from being so utterly exposed, his heart pounding so hard he was afraid he might pass out. How could Julia do this to him?!

"Better?" Julia asked.

Samantha nodded, grinning ear to ear, staring at Eric's back. "Property of Julia Grant," she said, reading it aloud again. "That's really incredible, Julia," she said, genuinely impressed at how quickly Julia had evolved. "Practically, obscene, but in a good way."

Julia smiled. "He needed to understand his place," she said with a cute little shrug.

"Well, that should do it. It's so... extreme," Samantha said.

Julia bit her lip playfully and stared at Eric's tattoo, like she was seeing it for the first time, reading her name over and over, her sense of delight growing by the moment. "It really is pretty extreme, isn't it?" she asked.

"Putting a large tramp-stamp on a man's back declaring him your personal property? Yeah. I'd say so."

A shutter ran up Eric's spine as he became an object of ridicule. He was being unraveled, undone by the words and deeds of women, becoming an object for Julia to do with as she pleased. His cock pulsed at the thought, betraying him again, pleased by the idea of being subjugated and used by the 'weaker sex'.

"Did I mention that he's wearing my handwriting? The artist, she used my handwriting to make the stencil," Julia said.

"Really?!"

Julia nodded, smiling, feeling deliciously naughty, becoming more dominant every day and loving it, reveling in the power. There seemed no end to it. Each submission from Eric left her wanting more. As far as she was concerned, he was so weak and pathetic he deserved what was happening to him, every bit of it.

Samantha smiled. "Well, it's lovely, very feminine. Inspiring, actually. I love it, Julia," she said sincerely. "What does he think about it?"

"Tell, her, Eric. How do you like your pretty, girly tat?"

Eric began to stammer. "I... I..."

"Tell, her! A woman asked a question!" Julia insisted.

He took a deep breath trying to control himself. "Makes me feel... different."

"Different? Different how?" Samantha pressed.

"Tell her, Eric. Tell her the truth otherwise I'll punish you! Maybe I'll take you back to the tattoo shop for that piercing," Julia threatened. "How do you feel different?" she insisted.

Eric trembled, fearful of speaking the truth but even more fearful of telling a lie and getting caught.

"Like, maybe... I sorta am, a little," he said, his cock throbbing at the admission.

"Sorta am, what?" Julia asked annoyed.

"Sorta am... your property," Eric finally said with a shutter, his cock feeling like it was about to explode at the confession.

Julia and Samantha exchanged a meaningful look of satisfaction before turning their attention back towards Julia's self proclaimed man-property. A cruel look overtook Julia's face as she thrust the apron back at Eric.

"Put it back on, Eric," Julia said.

He grabbed the apron-dress and pulled up his pants as high as he could to help hide the shame on his back.

"No! Lose the pants!" Julia commanded. "Socks too."

Eric turned around to face her with a bewildered look. "What?!"

"You can cover yourself with the apron," she said dismissively.

He looked incredulous, horrified. "But, the whole back is open," he complained. "We have a guest," he added glancing towards the wildly grinning Samantha.

Julia glared back at him with withering contempt, her eyes seething with anger at his pointless objections. "I guess we're going back to the tattoo shop."

Eric immediately threw the apron-dress over his head and let his pants fall to the floor, terrified by whatever punishment Julia was on the verge of inflicting. His cock bounced forward, still impossibly stiff, as the skirt of the apron settled in place. Julia's visage softened as be began to tie the apron around his waist. Shaking, he stepped out of the pants on the floor and finally pulled off his socks. He was dizzy, his heart hammering, as he tried to smooth down the flaring skirt of the apron, feeling exposed and vulnerable as cool air moved over sweaty thighs, feeling for the first time in his life like he was wearing a dress.

"Better," Julia said sweetly, as if nothing had happened. "Now, let's get back to dinner. More wine for us, then you can serve the casserole."

Eric nodded as he stepped away from them, moving backwards towards the kitchen, hoping to keep the open back of the apron-dress out of view, trying to maintain some sense of composure. He quickly returned with the wine, deeply self-conscious and ashamed, the breeze under the apron-dress, the openness, making him feel exposed and vulnerable. He wondered how women ever managed it, wearing dresses and skirts, leaving their nether parts so open to the air constantly.

Julia was sitting back at the table when he returned, looking perfectly poised, her skirt riding high into her lap, one leg seductively crossed over the other, sitting there like a queen on her throne waiting for a lowly servant to do her bidding. She held the empty wine glass forward as he approached with a look of contentment. Carefully, he began filling her glass from the wine bottle. She smirked smugly at her submissive sissy, wondering what his apron-dress might look like if his breasts were already sprouting to better fill out the top.

"I have to thank you again, Samantha," Julia said. "Eric looks better than I thought he would in a... dress." He winced at her appraisal almost spilling the wine as he topped off her glass.

Eric approached Samantha next, wine in hand, and began pouring.

"You might want to make him shave his legs though," Samantha said. "Maybe get him an actual dress or two of his own, especially for occasions like this."

Eric's hands trembled at the suggestion, almost spilling the wine on Samantha.

"Careful," she said playfully. "No need to get excited. I'm sure if you ask nicely Julia will be more than happy to buy you some dresses."

Eric flashed an awkward, pained smile towards Samantha, the suggestion clearly distressing, fearful that saying anything might encourage Julia to act on it. He backed away to the kitchen to prepare their plates, using the kitchen table to portion out the meal, trying to hide behind it as best he could.

Wine in hand, Samantha watched him stumbling around in the kitchen to serve them. She took a delicate sip to relish the moment and to further plot his demise. She couldn't have hoped for a better outcome with the apron. Julia seemed to be throughly enjoying humiliating him and after being stripped down to his underwear, the apron-dress really did make him look more like a petulant little servant girl than a man. Regardless, she still wanted to undermine him more, hurt him, crush his ego.

"You know what you're problem is?" Samantha asked Eric rhetorically.

He looked up for a moment from the kitchen and only shook his head, wanting nothing to do her.

"You've lost the battle of the sexes. Not just you but men in general. You're still catching up, trying to figure out the terms of surrender."

Eric continued dressing their plates. He wanted to scoff at her claim but given his situation, being a subordinate male to a dominant female, it seemed absurd to offer a defense. Julia had changed him, taken over everything. Were other women doing the same thing to their men? The prospect was terrifying.

Samantha had the serene look of a victor enjoying the spoils of the vanquished as she calmly took another sip of wine. Then, she made an astonishing statement - "You're entire gender is obsolete."

Eric's eyes went wide and for some inexplicable reason his cock twitched to attention. "What?!" It was all he could muster.

"I'm quite serious," Samantha said. "Males have become increasingly obsolete in the modern world. I'll grant that there's still value in the genetic material you provide for procreation but outside of that womyn don't really need you anymore. In fact, there's very good arguments to suggest your gender is more of a liability than an asset."

"But... we do most the work. I don't-"

"Whatever gave you that idea?!" Samantha said interrupting him, looking annoyed. Julia looked annoyed too, the scowl forming on her face making Eric nervous.

"The last article I read said that womyn represented the majority of the work force now," Samantha said.

Eric shrugged, trying to show indifference. He added a small sprig of parsley to each plate as a garnish and began walking them over.

"But that's only part of the story," Samantha said. "Competitively, men are falling way behind womyn too and it's only going to get worse for you. We're outpacing men in college degrees by quite a bit now, not in every discipline yet but overall we're way ahead. Look it up on the Net if you don't believe me."

Eric sat the plates down for the women, serving them, wondering how it was possible that men had fallen so far. If what she was saying was true, it was profound.

"That means we're starting to take over most the professions," Julia added. "What you liked to call gender politics is simply the marketplace recognizing where most the true talent is," Julia said smiling. "Makes me proud to be...," Julia paused as emotion suffused her face, "a womon."

Samantha beamed at her, tenderly reaching across the table to take her hand, celebrating the moment with her - Julia had redefined herself.

Julia nodded at Samantha, welcoming the caress, as she dabbed the tears out of her eyes. "Yes," she said, nodding. "I'm really very proud to be a womon."

Eric stood there frozen, not knowing what to make of them, feeling deeply uneasy, even threatened.

"More and more womyn are waking up everyday," Samantha enthused. "The matriarchy is real and it's growing, getting stronger every day." She turned back towards Eric with a stoney gaze. "Are you beginning to get it yet?" she asked him in a patronizing tone. "While more and more men are getting lost in their video games and fantasy worlds, avoiding college, half of them still sleeping in their parent's basement in their jammies, womyn have been moving past you, working hard in the real world, displacing your kind, and we're slowly taking over. Everything. Everywhere."

Eric felt a chill run up his spine. The room went quiet. Suddenly, everything that had happened made more sense. Samantha was at the root of it, had to be. She had worked her way in and twisted Julia up with some type of radical, dark, man-hating version of feminism.

"Are you trembling, Eric?!" Julia asked.

He was staring off into the distance, lost in a swirl of disturbing images of men at the feet of powerful women, licking their feet, begging for favors. He tried to calm himself as the room came back into focus. "I'm... fine," he said, lying.

"Don't feel too bad," Samantha said to him. "It's evolution. Males have served their purpose... on the evolutionary stage that is. Now it's time for womyn to take over. It's really that simple. We needed your physical strength and aggression in the past but we've evolved past all that. We don't need it anymore. We have machines and technology and science and medicine and-"

"Cities and, laws and, government!" Julia offered.

"Exactly," Samantha agreed. "The point is, the testosterone that used to be an evolutionary advantage, a survival asset is poison now. It fuels pointless aggression and violence and crime."

Eric stood there dumbfounded at the twisted reasoning but couldn't help to wonder if maybe a tiny portion of it might make some sense.

"It's nothing to get depressed about," Samantha said. "It's just time for a change. Men need to find their place in the new order of things. It's time for the patriarchy to end and for the matriarchy to begin."

The very notion ran another chill up Eric's spine.

"Womyn are far better suited to the modern world. The sooner men understand that and accept their new place the better all of us will be."

"Like I said before," Julia started, taking a sip of wine, "you should think of yourself as my wife. You're the homemaker and soon you're also going to be the mother to our children."

Samantha locked eyes with Julia at the pronouncement.

"More wine, wife," Julia commanded, pushing her glass forward, smiling ear to ear.

Samantha did the same, confidently.

Eric filled them with trembling hands.

Dinner continued much as it had after that. The women chatted away and dined while Eric serviced them in his apron-dress and pretty nails, with humiliating, hurtful comments being hurled at him throughout the evening. By the time Samantha was finally ready to leave, Eric felt emotionally battered, his head pounding from the abuse. He could hardly wait to be rid of her. Julia could be bad, but seemed even worse with Samantha around.
Samantha was standing, gathering her things, when she turned toward Eric in the kitchen. "It was interesting meeting you, Eric," she said, running her eyes over him with disdain, biting her lip derisively.

Eric quickly rose from the kitchen table, smoothing down the apron-dress, and walked towards her, nodding, attempting a reassuring smile despite his aching, pounding head.

She extended her hand towards him, inviting a handshake, her nails a deep red, like a rich wine, shorter than Julia's, they were still beautiful and very feminine. He grasped her hand gently and tried to smile again.

Instead of shaking, Samantha turned his hand over and examined his manicure instead, pursing her lips with disapproval. "Streaky," she declared. "I'm sure you'll get better with time and practice," she added, releasing his hand. "It's a good thing Julia is having you grow them out, so you can work on her nails eventually."

"You're still planning on doing that, right?" she asked Julia.

Julia nodded, smirking. "Absolutely."

"Good," Samantha said, smiling.

Eric flashed her an insincere smile, his head pounding all the harder at the woman responsible for Julia's new dictate.

"I imagine, next time we meet, your nails will be longer than mine," Samantha concluded. "Won't that be sweet? Having nice, long, feminine nails, all the time?"

Eric suddenly got queasy thinking about it. If Julia held firm on having him grow them out they'd be impossible to hide from people! How would he do things out in public?!

Satisfied by Eric's plight, Samantha smiled broadly and walked to the door. Julia followed to see their guest out as Eric retreated to the kitchen to begin cleaning up the dinner dishes, while he tried to forget as much of the evening as possible.

Both of the women's heels clicked on the entryway tiles as Samantha prepared to leave.

"It really was a fun evening," Samantha said. "Thanks so much for having me over."

"It was fun wasn't it, Sam," Julia said enthusiastically. "We'll have to do it again sometime."

"I'd really like that," Samantha said as she reached for Julia's hand to give it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. She quickly leaned in close to Julia's ear with a mischievous look. "Eric looked lovely tonight, by the way," she whispered. "You're doing a good job with him. That tattoo is beyond precious. I can hardly wait to see what he looks like when he starts filling out that apron."

Julia smiled wickedly. "I think I'm going to make that appointment for him. Next week."

Samantha's eyes went wide.

Julia nodded. "I think he might be ready."

"Don't let up on him, Julia," Samantha whispered, the words laced with the excitement she felt.

Julia ran her tongue over her teeth playfully, like a cat cleaning its fangs. She took a quick peek over her shoulder to make sure Eric wasn't in earshot. "I have a lot more planned for my little, submissive sissy," she said, twisting her lips with sadistic glee.

Samantha leaned in and gave Julia a platonic kiss on the cheek and followed it with a friendly hug. A few moments later she walked into the hall as Julia gently closed the door behind her friend.

Julia stood in the entryway with a broad smile lighting up her beautiful face, a smile concealing the deeply cruel thoughts harboring inside for her worm. The poor little fool had no idea what was coming. He would service her on his knees tonight, in that cute little apron, to satisfy the pleasing ache building under her skirt. But first, she would toy with him a bit, point out his inadequacies, further manipulate him.

"Time to inspect your streaky nails, Eric!" she proclaimed.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Broken

Morning came sooner than Eric cared for as he rolled around awkwardly in the makeshift bed on the floor of the bedroom. Above, sprawled across the queen sized bed, slept Julia, comfortable and peaceful without him. It was still early, the sun was slowly brightening against the closed window shades leaving the room cloaked in dim light and shadows as another day began.

Eric woke disoriented at first, foggy, crawling out of some bizarre nightmare, trying to hold on to the disturbing images long enough to make sense of them - sexy, leather clad women with long, vicious claws on their hands instead of nails, even stranger, if he was remembering correctly, they bore black wings which covered their backs too. He felt a cold chill thinking about them, fleeting gasps of seduction with whips, claws, and beating wings like mythological creatures tearing at him through the darkness. Furies? Is that what they were? Phantoms from the mythology class he took the semester before meeting Julia? He shuddered.

Yesterday, the evening with Julia and Samantha had been too much for him. His world had collapsed, his very sense of self punished, shattered. That was the nightmare. The Furies. Punishment spirits, goddesses from mythology. Julia, Samantha, even his own sister had forced him to confront what he had become - a weak-kneed, submissive male.

He took a deep breath and shuttered, trying to dispel the chill from the nightmare that still clung to his mind, then stretched out on top of the comforter, the 'mattress' of his makeshift bed, trying to calm down and relax. It proved difficult. The day before, dinner with Samantha, the evening after with Julia, had been the worst day of his life. It was hard to get it out of his mind.

"You sleep there from now on," Julia had said last night as they were retiring, pointing to the floor next to the bed. She grabbed the comforter and a blanket and threw them at the floor, his pillow followed. "You're not worthy to sleep next to me anymore," Julia had said. "No couch for you either. That's your place to sleep from now on," she had insisted, jerking a finger towards the floor again. "I don't want to hear any complaints."

It had taken hours before sleep had finally embraced him at the foot of what was now Julia's bed, memories from the day churning away, clawing at him while Julia slept comfortably above. Given how he felt, it was fairly certain the nightmare had tormented him most the night.

Eric stayed there, on the floor, for several more minutes, feeling sorry for himself, lamenting what he had become. Eventually, with great effort, he pushed up to a sitting position and rubbed at his face to wake for another day.

Pulling his hands away, a deep grimace formed from seeing the nail polish still adorning his nails from last night. He held them close to his face, looking at them. His cock twitched. It felt so damn girly to wake up with painted nails. Julia hadn't allow him to remove it, claiming the application was poorly done and that he needed to wear it as a reminder to do better. He shook his head in frustration and pushed off the floor, hoping to forget about his girly fingers for awhile.

He wandered towards the hallway but before leaving the room, he turned back to look at Julia. She was comfortably and contentedly resting in the middle of their one-time marital bed. He used to love sharing it with her, back when things were still normal between them. The faintest of smiles graced his lips. It was pleasant to remember.

He rested his back against the doorframe to watch her sleep for a bit longer. She was so beautiful. She teased him even when asleep, deep cleavage spilling out of her black nightie as she lay on her side, a tempting display of raw femininity. He would have given anything to touch her just then. Beautiful, sensual, dominant Julia. His knees felt weak just looking at her in the dim light. His cock stiffened. He was addicted to her, enmeshed with her. She could do almost anything to him, treat him as badly as she wanted and he would likely come back for more. The realization made his cock stiffen even harder. He slid his hand downwards, under the waistband, grabbing himself, squeezing. The pleasing ache made him gasp, making him squeeze again, harder, longer. He should have left the room when he had the chance.

Julia stirred slightly, waking to the sounds of soft moans escaping Eric's lips. She gently parted her eyes, opening them into small slits, just enough to see him standing at the doorway to the bedroom ogling her, leaning against the doorframe while stroking himself! Anger and outrage quickly peaked, boiling over. She suddenly sat bolt upright, startling him. Eric froze, eyes wide-open in shock and surprise, his hand still shoved into his pajama bottoms.

"Care to explain yourself?" Julia asked acidly, staring at him with a cruel, twisted sneer.

He started to stammer. "I... I... just-"

"You just what, Eric?!"

He mumbled something incoherently, averting his eyes then slowly withdrew his hand from the pajamas, hoping that somehow Julia would miss the erection tenting them outward.

"Didn't I tell you not to play with yourself unless I gave you permission?" Julia asked.

"I... I... thought that was for the shower, a shower rule?" he said unconvincingly, like something a child might say.

Julia smiled wickedly as she got out of bed and walked over, his cock rock hard as he watched the sway of her body approaching in the brief nighty that hugged every sweet, delicious curve.

"You're lying to me now," she whispered, sending a chill up Eric's spine. "I made it very clear. You don't touch yourself unless I give you permission and I sure as hell didn't give you permission while I was asleep!"

Eric shook his head, conceding the point.

She leaned in, locking eyes with him. "Looks like you've earned another punishment," Julia whispered, the word exciting her every bit as much as it did the first time she had said it to him. She grabbed the waist of his pajamas suddenly and yanked them down over the erection trying to hide there, her expression changing to one of revulsion as she stared at it. "How about we get you some genital piercings to help you control that thing?"

Eric swallowed hard, gritting his teeth, afraid to respond.

"I'll have to think about it," she mused, releasing the pajamas, the waistband snapping back, below his jutting cock, leaving it exposed.

"Please no," he managed to plead. "I'm so, so sorry. It won't happen again," he assured her.

"No, it won't," she said definitively, her eyes hard like ice.

Eric shuttered, quickly pulling the pajamas over his member to hide it again.

Julia shrugged. "We'll see," she said flippantly. "Don't worry too much. You'll know soon enough. Now, go get my shower ready," she said with a wave of her hand.

Eric ran off to the bathroom to prepare the shower, properly mixing the water to a pleasing temperature and putting everything out she would need. She seemed to be taking longer than usual, still rummaging through her closet, picking out clothes for the day, humming lightly to herself in a pleasing way.

A bit bored, waiting to play the part of her shower maid, he decided to wander away from the bathroom. He stepped out onto the balcony to take in some early morning air, careful to hide his nails behind him to keep them out of public view. He certainly didn't want people to see what Julia was doing to him. It was a cool and invigorating morning, pleasant, despite having to hide his pretty hands. He tried to smile and forget about the troubling events the day had already brought and those of last night until he caught sight of something that shook him inside. His smile immediately faded.

Across the courtyard, belly down among a dozen or more beer bottles, was his neighbor John. The man was a repulsive sight, half dressed, his portly belly squirming about on the concrete patio, apparently so drunk that he had fallen off his lounger, leaving it abandoned, laying on it's side behind him. It looked like he might have been there all night, slumbering on in some drunken stupor. Disgusted, Eric backed away from the balcony and went back into the apartment, sickened and disturbed by the sight.

He leaned over the dinning room table feeling slightly ill and couldn't help but wonder, without Julia, was that his fate too? Without purpose, feeling hopeless, drinking to numb the pain? Wasn't that the path he was on before Julia took control? He didn't think he was really that far behind his neighbor and after everything he learned last night, how women seemed to be taking over, wasn't it reasonable to think maybe a lot of men were in similar situations? Maybe more men were struggling than anyone knew or cared to admit.

"I'm ready for my shower," Julia declared walking towards the bathroom.

Eric took a deep breath, stood, and steadied himself. That wasn't going to happen to him, he resolved. For now, it seemed clear he needed to stay with Julia. It was the best way to make sure he didn't end up like John. If that meant accepting being 'female led' then so be it, at least until he could find a better way.

"Eric?!"

He hurried over to the bathroom to find her standing there with an impatient expression, perturbed that he had kept her waiting.

"Sorry," he said.

She raised her arms in a cute little stretch, every curve beckoning to him as he lifted her nightgown away leaving her in nothing but a tiny pair of black bikini panties. They barely covered her mons. She quickly pushed them down, deftly stepping out of them as they hit the floor, then stepped into the shower, immediately turning under the water, luxuriating in it, as it poured over her body. After folding her nightie and panties, Eric stripped and followed.

There wasn't much room in the shower with both of them there, only a couple feet or so separated them. Julia swayed under the water, eyes closed, with her back to the shower head, soaking her long hair, with wet, glistening breasts bobbing and swaying so seductively before Eric he ached to touch them. He backed away instead. It was an impossible desire to satisfy, even a brush of her loveliness unbidden could be punished and he already feared what she might have in store for him.

"Shampoo," Julia directed, flipping around in the small space, the water now splashing on her chest and breasts as she leaned back slightly.

Eric quickly grabbed the bottle of herbal scented shampoo, squeezed out an ample amount, and began to work it into her hair. There was something mesmerizing about providing simple service to her, almost trance inducing, every inch of her so deeply feminine the smallest touch felt deeply sensual. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he gently massaged her scalp, running his fingers through her glorious mane as he spread the shampoo, his excitement growing from the closeness, from being allowed to touch her or just maybe from being ordered to serve such a beautiful, dominant woman.

"We need to do something about your nasty cock," Julia suddenly proclaimed.

"What?!"

"I said, we need to do something about your nasty cock!" Julia spun around suddenly and grabbed Eric by the balls and began squeezing, moving forward, pinning him into the back wall of the shower. "I'm sick of you pointing that thing at me all the time without permission."

"I... I... I'm sorry. I... I can't help it... I'm only-"

"Only a man? Is that it?! Is that your pathetic excuse?!" she shouted over the drone of the shower.

Eric only nodded, afraid any words would further enrage her.

"Do you think womyn want hard cocks pointed at them all the time?" Julia asked, tightening her grip on his balls, squeezing hard enough to make him wince. "A womon can feel threatened by that! Unsolicited sexual attention! It's practically a form of sexual assault!"

Eric was shocked at the accusation. He wasn't sure what to think. It seemed normal, human. But, had that changed? Was it now considered vulgar to ever have an erection around a woman?

"You were going to get your jollies this morning while I slept weren't you?!" she asked, pressing her nails into him, inching her face menacingly closer.

He froze, afraid to do anything that might inflame her further.

"Then you lied to me about it, didn't you?" Her eyes were locked on him, demanding an answer as the water splashed about them in the small space.

Numbly, subtly, he nodded, admitting to the offense. Julia appeared genuinely outraged, tightening her grip further, the pain increasing as long nails began biting into his sack, his nuts screaming for release! But, instead of busting his balls, she simply let go. A perverse expression of satisfaction spread over her to replace the fury. The sudden shift was chilling. Something told him that she had decided on his punishment and from the look of her it was something to worry about.

"Finish my hair," she said, breaking the moment.

He hurriedly did as commanded, hoping to mollify her, wanting to change whatever it was she had decided. As he got to the end of her hair, she flipped back around and rinsed, eyes tightly shut against the water, while Eric took the opportunity to stare again at the breasts dancing so tantalizingly close.

"You just can't help yourself, can you?"

Immediately he averted his gaze to look her in the face instead.

Julia reached forward and pressed one of her nails into his lips. "Cat got your tongue," she hissed, scratching it downward, leaving a small scrape. "Afraid of what I'm going to do to you?"

Her eyes possessed him, fear and excitement mixing to make his heart race.

She arched her breasts forward and shook them, teasing him.

Eric grew rigid.

She shook her head and chuckled. "If you only knew," she said ominously. "Wait till you see the things I'm going to do to you." She chuckled softly again, wondering how he would feel once his own boobs started bouncing about in the shower. But, that would take some time, punishments came first and what she had decided on would really test his limits.

Eric was concerned, even a little frightened, but having Julia nude and wet before him, moving about under the water, displaying herself so openly and provocatively, was too much to ignore.

Julia glanced at his cock contemptuously, then, surprisingly, began to run her nail along the its underside, teasing it, watching Eric's face as the pleasure built, his legs trembling as she approached the head. He was on the edge, a moment of ecstasy mere moments away and she stopped, leaving him poised so close to release it began to ache.

"If you cum right now I'm going to have them pierce you with something so big you'll never have a normal cum ever again," she declared.

Eric winced, letting his back hit the wall and slid down a few inches in utter frustration, terrified to even touch himself lest he explode all over her. Julia smiled watching him struggle to contain himself, certain that he'd get a good case of blue balls, deserved because of his reprehensible ogling.

"Told you I was sick of you pointing that thing at me all the time," she said.

Eric simply nodded as his balls began to ache.

"Conditioner," Julia commanded, presenting her hair to him again.

Trying to recover, he grabbed the conditioner and began applying it to her hair, smoothing it in, then carefully combing it through, trying to make certain every strand was cared for, pressing it into a ponytail shape when done.

"Keep your cock under control," Julia warned as she handed him a bath sponge.

He began soaping her up with the sponge, trying to maintain his composure as the sponge passed over smooth, soft skin. Every inch of her was stimulating, intoxicating, from the delicate sweep of her neck and shoulders down to the sweetness of her tender ankles and feet. She presented herself brazenly too, moving freely under the water, hiding nothing, while he gently scrubbed away with the sponge.

He struggled to focus despite the effect her body had on him but his cock was harder than ever. It was so frustrating and embarrassing. He felt so weak. She was teasing him intentionally, he decided, the smirk on her face made it clear. She knew what she was doing to him, just more of her games for control. His cock was little more than a puppet with her as the puppet master, she pulled the strings, painfully teasing him, then threatened punishments for what her body did to him. It was nothing short of cruelty.

"Soap up my breasts now, Eric," she sneered sweetly, glancing at his hard cock with contempt, yet enjoying the pain it was causing him.

She stretched seductively, arms above her head, then brought them back down to her sides and leaned forward, dangling her boobs outward in the constricted space between them.

"Soap," she reminded him.

Tentatively, he reached out with the sponge and gently stoked it down against her breasts, watching them move and sway under the slight pressure, the nipples seeming to get harder by the moment. He found himself utterly enthralled by her feminine treasures and couldn't help but wonder if she enjoyed having them, the sensations they gave her, the power they gave her over men.

"Like 'em?" she asked.

He nodded as he swiped the sponge down them again, watching them dance in response, soft yet firm, perky yet dangly, they were near perfection. He continued like that, working the sponge against her chest and breasts, pressing on them, watching them move, watching the suds run down the soft slopes to fall away to tub below. He continued, trance like, until Julia stopped him.

"Enough," Julia spat, grabbing his hand by the wrist, "They're clean."

He dropped his arm as she released him, still staring at her breasts, obsessed with her, desiring so much more, his cock so rigid it hurt.

"Move on," she said with a devilish look as she spread her thighs open. He felt a slight tingle run up his back looking at the smoothness of her thighs and the gap between them, every womanly curve inciting lust and desire as the water droned on, spraying around them. Catching his breath, he reached for the soap. Julia slapped at his hand then pushed him down by the shoulders to a kneeling position. "I want your face in there first, before she gets scrubbed... while she still stinks."

Eric's sex soaked brain was delighted, his nostrils flared as he drank in her distinctive scent, one locked into his brain forever thanks to all of Julia's cruel games.

"Tongue. Start cleaning, Eric. Make yourself useful."

He crawled forward while water ran down her back, around the curve of her ass, and down her legs to the floor of the shower. His nostrils flared again as he reached her, drinking in her odor, excited at what was coming, by what she was making him do.

After last night, he felt more conflicted and confused than ever. He wanted Julia desperately, in any way she demanded it, but was disgusted at what he had become. Gently, with some hesitation, he pressed his nose against her womanhood, the conflict growing inside as he submitted to her on his knees once again, the part of him that wanted to resist, after everything he had been through, was dying. At that moment, worshiping Julia's sweet pussy was everything. His pulse quickened as he pushed his nose into her as deeply as possible.

"That's it. Keep going. Get busy," she said.

Eric shuttered, trying to release his guilt and shame. "Let go," he whispered to himself, the sound of the shower drowning out his words. "I... submit to you," he whispered into her pussy then quickly, with abandon, plunged his tongue into her. It was thrilling to lose himself, to yield. Julia had used sex to change him, to alter his mind but he didn't care anymore. He was an addict - she was his drug. He let Julia turn him into a pathetic, submissive, tattooed, pervert but he didn't care! He deserved what was happening to him, belonged on his knees, cleaning out her reeking pussy! He picked up the pace, allowing lust and submission to fuse into need and avarice, completely losing himself to her glorious sex.

"That's it - yes," Julia said breathlessly, her panting getting quicker to match Eric's passionate assault. They slid backwards, her shoulders stopping at the wall, her head under the shower nozzle, as he leaned into her, his tongue driving ever deeper as he struggled to hold onto her slippery body, water now pelting over his kneeling form. Julia suddenly grabbed fistfuls of his hair and yanked his head forcefully into her, riding his face like a saddle, her moaning getting louder, her orgasm building, water splashing over both of them as she forced him deeper and deeper into her. They stayed like that for some time, fused together, writhing in passion with Eric's addiction and submission growing more powerful by the moment. When her orgasm finally came, she squeezed her legs around Eric's head like a vise and screamed as wave after wave of pleasure convulsed through her, riding him, half suffocating him while her sweet nectar flowed into his mouth.

Water sprayed over them afterwards, Julia leaned against the wall with Eric still on his knees, both of them breathing hard as they recovered. For Julia, it had been one of the most powerful orgasms ever.

"I think you actually liked that," she stated accusingly, between breaths, searching his face for the truth. "You like licking pussy now, don't you?"

He dropped his head and stared at the shower floor, glancing at her pretty feet, while water drizzled down his face and hair, afraid to admit the truth, fearful at what it might mean. He not only liked it, he loved it, even craved it.

"You've changed," she accused. "I think you're finally beginning to accept what you truly are. My submissive, little homemaker. My man-wife. Care to deny it?" Julia asked, smirking in triumph.

Eric kept his eyes down, face stinging from the shame, only willing to look at her feet.

"Then again, I seem to recall you reacted strongly to something else I called you before. Maybe you'd like that better? I think a lot of true submissives like you prefer it. Remember? Slave."

Eric cringed at the word, his heart started to pound. Julia's property? Her slave?! Did she mean it? Why did he find it so darkly erotic?

His distress and excitement wasn't lost on Julia. She decided to try pushing it even further. "Then again, you looked so pretty last night in your little apron and with your pretty nails... maybe slave girl is better. You like that?"

He said nothing while his cock strained forward, his increasingly twisted mind even more excited. What had she done to him!?

Julia chuckled, maybe last night had a more pronounced effect on him than she realized, it was something to consider and work with. "I'll rinse myself today. Get my towels ready... slave girl. And don't you dare touch my cock with your pretty little girly fingers, you still need to be punished for this morning!"

He scampered to his feet and left the shower while Julia finished and rinsed off. When she exited he gently patted her dry then began nourishing her skin with moisturizing lotions, rubbing them in lovingly with care and attention while she watched him, trying to do it as dispassionately as possible while she grimaced at the hard cock bobbing about her.

"When we're done here I want you to take a cold shower. I'm sick of watching that thing point at me. Don't you dare stroke it off either. If you can't control that thing... I will," she warned.

Eric pursed his lips in frustration and nodded.

"I'm beginning to think a cock cage is exactly what you need," she said under her breath.

He kept working, his cock frustratingly getting all the harder with each pass of cool lotion onto her naked, soft, hairless skin. Rubbing lotion onto her breasts and thighs had practically been a form of torture. When the moisturizing was finished, he gently wrapped a towel about her, then added a smaller one around her hair.

Julia flashed him a quick smile then reached into the shower and cranked on the cold water. "Once you're done cooling off... I'll have an omelet this morning," she said, before walking away towards the door. "And we need to talk today, about the future," she added over her shoulder, leaving the bathroom.

Dejected, Eric stepped into the far side of the shower stall, away from the water. Even the spray was giving him a chill. He wrapped one hand around his hard cock and squeezed slightly, enjoying the pressure, then looked down to see his own girly looking hand and nails staring back. It felt so disconcerting but he had to remind himself that Julia didn't see him as a normal man anymore. If she wanted nail polish and a soft cock on him then so be it.

He jumped into the cold water, quickly adjusting the temperature enough to keep from totally freezing, then stood there while the chill settled in. He stared at his presumptuous, wanting, troublesome cock jutting out so defiantly wishing he could better control the damn thing. He clenched his fists in frustration and mouthed a silent wail at his manhood. He had to wonder if life would have actually been better with a pussy. If women were taking over, what was the point of being a man anymore?

It don't take long before he started getting really cold. Standing there, shivering, moaning in frustration, his cock finally began to soften. Anticipation and desire sagged as the cold settled in leaving little more than a dull ache behind.

He stood there, miserable, thinking about yesterday, about all the things Julia and Samantha had said. Maybe it was all true, he lamented. Looking at the the world it did make some sense. Maybe men really were obsolete in the modern world. Women did seem to be taking over and with them earning the majority of college degrees wasn't it only a matter of time before they would? Wasn't it inevitable? Maybe this really was the beginning of a world wide matriarchy, the early stages of what would eventually be a total shift of power leaving women mostly in control with men serving as their chattel. His whole body quaked at the thought standing there in the near freezing water but, at least, finally, he was soft.

Jumping out of the shower, shivering, he hastily dried off, then drew a robe on and headed to the kitchen to start breakfast. He needed to hurry. Making Julia's breakfast every morning was just one of his many homemaker duties, one Julia frequently found disappointment in but something he knew he could improve on with effort. He grabbed eggs and a skillet and sighed. It was something else to work on to please her.

Shortly after finishing Julia's omelette, as he was adding a tiny sprig of parsley as garnish, Julia walked into the dinning room and sat down. She had a sexy-librarian look to her today, Eric thought, crisp and professional with a little less skin showing but with stylish clothes that tugged every curve. She glanced towards Eric disapprovingly, the look alone enough to make his heart skip a beat. The meal should have been on the table the moment she sat down, keeping her waiting was unacceptable. Immediately, he hurried her plate over and placed it before her, juice and coffee quickly followed after another run to the kitchen.

Eric stood there, waiting to see if she needed anything else. She took a small bite of the omelette and curled the corner of her lip in disdain, another bite followed with a look of indifference.

"Kneel," she commanded casually.

Eric's eyes went wide as he quickly got to the floor. "I'm sorry, did I undercook it? Last time I overcooked-"

Julia held her palm out towards him, silencing his excuses. "I'm not interested in discussing your... barely adequate cooking skills," she said. "We have more important things to talk about," she added, taking another small bite of the omelet.

On his knees, Eric couldn't help but admire the austere yet sexy pumps adorning her lovely feet, tall, dark grey, pointed toed, three inch stilettos with faux laces on a full coverage front but with open side panels revealing her lovely feet within while thin buckle straps wrapped about each ankle to hold them on. There was something almost old-world, poetic about them that made him fantasize about authoritarian ladies from another era. Her trim legs looked unbelievably sexy in them as they disappeared into a just over the knee, grey pencil skirt above. A lacy white blouse completed the outfit, thin enough to see hints of a white bra beneath. His cock began to twitch to life again until he saw a disturbing sternness in her eyes that suddenly overshadowed the rest of her.

She locked eyes with him. "First thing to discuss is your punishment for using me this morning as some... object to jerk off to!

His excitement began to fade as worry and fear replaced it. "I... I know... it was wrong. I'm sorry... please... it was a moment of weakness. You're just so beautiful. I... I promise you it won't ever happen again. Never," he said as his palms began to sweat.

A sadistic smile crossed Julia's lips. Watching Eric beg, knowing how much power she wielded over the worm was exciting beyond measure. It inspired her to higher levels of cruelty. "It's not like I haven't warned you, Eric," she said. "Like I told you this morning, it won't happen again," she said menacingly. "I'm going to make sure it doesn't."

Eric rocked back on his feet as a chill ran through him, like ice water was suddenly flowing through his veins.

"Do you know what a key holder is, Eric?" she asked calmly.

"I'm... not... sure," he replied with a soft quaver.

"Oh, come on, guess," she said playfully.

"I... don't know," he said, shaking his head.

"Guess!" she insisted.

"You're... considering a... cock cage?" he asked worriedly.

"Oh no," she started, "Not considering. I've already decided to cage your puny cock," she said. "And, of course, I'm going to be holding the key, I'll be your key holder."

Eric's mouth fell open, dazed.

Julia smiled at his distress. "No, simple, plastic, off-the-shelf, chastity device for you either. Nothing you can cut off or break open easily. I'm going to have one custom made so it's escape proof, probably stainless steel. Once it's on, you'll need the key to take it off," she said, staring at him until the distress in his face told her the reality of it had sunk it. "No more jerking off for you. You won't get to cum anymore, not unless I decide to let you."

He struggled with the news, his face scrunched up and twisting, looking like he might start crying. "So, I'd have to wear it... every night?" Eric asked.

"Noooo," she said a bit surprised at the question. "All the time, Eric. Twenty-four seven. You stay locked up until I decide otherwise. You'll only get to cum when I think you've earned one.

Eric's eyes went wide. The thought that she would actually lock up his cock, take control of it, be his key holder, somehow made her control over him more complete than he thought possible. It was deeply worrisome but also, surprisingly, exciting. Somehow it stirred the dark, twisted libido she had nurtured in him, her power over him somehow exciting his betraying cock.

"I don't expect any problems from you on this. Or should I?" she asked.

Eric dropped his eyes back to her lovely pumps and shook his head. "No. No problems," he said sounding defeated, fixating on her lovely footwear. "I... I've been thinking... about yesterday... about everything we talked about, all the things you and... Samantha said." He kept staring at her pumps, looking glassy eyed. "The easy thing would to be to deny everything, reject it out of hand, but... the more I thought about it... the more I realized... things are different, the world I mean. Like... all the things I grew up with... don't seem to make sense anymore. I need to... change... adapt... whatever... I have to figure out how to fit in."

"Meaning?" Julia asked.

He shrugged looking miserable, his chin began to tremble. "I think we lost... men lost," he said. "We really did, the war of the sexes, whatever it was called," he said, scrunching his lips together like the words had soured in his mouth. "I don't have to like it... but... I think... I need to accept it... and what it means. If men lost... then women won."

Julia smiled, her lips curling into something cruel and scornful as she listened to him talk, his words sounding like surrender. Everything she wanted seemed to be coming together.

Looking trance like, he continued. "Once I accepted that, it explained a lot to me. It did. Like why I lost my job to a woman and why I was having a hard time finding another one." He shrugged again. "Maybe it is evolution - women taking over, college degrees, jobs, marriages... everything."

Julia nodded with satisfaction.

He shook his head, wishing he could deny what he knew and return to the comfortable ignorance he had lived in for so long but it wasn't possible any longer. "I need to... let go... of so much and hope for the best. What do they say? No regrets?"

She watched him struggling with every word, delighted by how deeply fractured he was.

He sat back on his heels and looked up to her, daring to look her in the eyes, his wounded gaze almost haunting. "Yesterday, I agreed. Just yesterday... I agreed to... listen to you... to follow... to o..." The word stuck in his throat as his face twisted. Julia's eyes narrowed on him, clearly unsatisfied. "Obey!" he spat out suddenly. "I agreed to obey you."

Julia nodded and smiled with grim satisfaction. "Yes. You did," she replied.

"I want to be with you. I want you happy, I do. I mean that. I'm going to try my hardest to make this work. To listen. To... obey... even when I don't want to. You're the boss. I... I need to accept that," he said. "Only a foolish person denies reality, right?"

Julia continued nodding while she examined the pathetic man kneeling to her. "I'm glad you're finally seeing the truth, glad you're finally trying to find your true place. Don't expect it to be easy though. I'm going to break you, completely."

Eric nodded and returned his gaze to her feet. "I think I'm ready... now," he said.

"Good! Because there's going to be a real moment of decision for you to prove it. I told you before I wouldn't force you to do anything. So you see, little wife, when your cock cage arrives, I'm not going to be the one to shove you into it and slam the lock shut - you are." An evil grin lit up her face. "You're going to be the one that'll be trapping your own cock inside and closing the lock knowing that I might not release you for days, weeks, maybe even months. You're going to put yourself into chastity."

Tears were in his eyes now, making them glisten. "If that's what you truly want... then yes... okay. I can do that. And I won't make any problems. I'll do it. For as long as you want me to."

"Even if I keep you in it for months at a time?"

"If that's what you truly want," he said, nodding.

"What if I decide not to let you out for six months at a time?"

He cringed slightly at the suggestion, the idea clearly distressing. "I would... hope you didn't but... if you really wanted to punish me like that... I'd have to... accept it."

Julia sneered at Eric with loathing, suddenly filled with contempt for him. How could she have ever loved such a pathetic man? She wanted to punish him for being weak alone, watch him struggle for being so pathetic. Toying with him was going to be such fun.

"What if I teased you mercilessly, everyday made your cock scream for release from it's cage while I show you what you can't have, deny you release, day after day, laughing at your imprisoned, bent cock?

He squirmed on his knees with trembling hands as fear and anxiety ate away at him. The idea of being teased while his cock was locked up, trapped and bent over in a chastity device was too much to deal with.

"Well?!" Julia demanded an answer.

"If... that's what you truly want," he finally said in a whisper.

"Good," she said, smiling with smug satisfaction. He had to be ready, she decided. Her pussy began to ache at the thought of having a committed submissive male at her disposal, the things she might do to him, the scores she might settle, the ideas were so deviant and delicious. She was really going to do it, take a man and erase his masculinity bit by bit, feminize him. It was time.

"Now that we have a plan for keeping your cock under control, there's something else I wanted to discuss," Julia said. "Something critical to our future together."

Eric simply nodded, giving her his full attention, still kneeling as he had not been given permission to move.

"What if I told you... I'm thinking of easing up on you a little bit?" she asked. "Allowing you more freedom?"

Eric looked surprised, his eyes opening up expectantly like she had handed him a present.

"Well, I am," she said. "I'm even considering letting you have the things I took away from you. Would you like that?"

Eric nodded cautiously, wondering if she was just toying with him.

"Of course, it assumes you've really, truly changed," she said, the words measured, her tone sounding a bit more ominous. "It assumes you'll truly do what I want, that you'll do what I tell you, that you'll accept your place and be a good little submissive male." Eric shrank down as her eyes drilled into him with resolute confidence and authority. "You think you can do that?"

His face took on the look of anguish suddenly as he fought back tears. "I have... I've changed," he assured her.

Julia's eyes narrowed with skepticism.

"Really," he said, quickly swiping a tear away as he relived the shame. "Ever since the day... you found out how much I'd been playing on the computer while you were working... all the lies I'd been telling you."

She looked at him suspiciously. "I don't know, Eric. Seems to me, you've been fighting me all along," she said. "I want to trust you and move forward. I have very big plans. But I need to believe you're ready for change."

He shrugged and pouted, considering what he wanted to say without upsetting her. "It's a lot to take on. A man spends his entire life thinking a certain way, it's... just hard to change is all. I mean... life was supposed to be a certain way and now everything is totally upside down for me. Part of me can't help wishing things were different... like they used to be."

"Doesn't sound like somebody who's changed," she said with bitterness.

He shook his head. "No. I'm sorry. I'm just trying to explain why it seems like I've been fighting. I mean, maybe I did but I don't think so, not really. I... I've been fighting myself more than anything. I... can't... help that entirely. But, I've been losing, the whole time." He dared to look her in the eyes. "I think... deep inside... I want this, want us... however you want us."

"You sure about that?"

Eric nodded.

Julia's eyes narrowed. "I've told you before, I'm going to change you. I'm going to be cruel to you. You sure you're ready for that?"

He dropped his eyes back to her feet and nodded.

"You ready for any punishments I'll impose?"

He nodded again, keeping his eyes down.

She stood up, towering over his kneeling form then slowly walked around him, appraising him.

"What if I want to have you tattooed again? Maybe have you pierced?" she asked while continuing to walk around him. "You ready for that?"

Eric winced, wondering what dark, twisted path he was on, fearing it but excited by it too. "I would beg you not to... but..." He stopped mid-sentence, unable to finish, then nodded hesitantly, agreeing to it.

Julia stood behind him, biting her lip in anticipation, wondering what she wanted his next tattoo to be and where she wanted to put it. How bad did she want to permanently humiliate him? Those were questions that would have to wait though. Right now, he needed to be prepared for something even more extreme.

"What if I wanted to mod your body in other ways," she asked, slowly walking around again, stopping directly in front of him. She lifted his chin upwards, forcing him to look into her eyes. He trembled slightly.

"You do want to be a better wife to me don't you? A better mother to our daughters?" she asked him.

He opened his mouth unsure of what to say then simply nodded as best he could while she held him.

"It really is time for womyn to take control," she said, grasping his chin a bit firmer. "Men are essentially obsolete," she told him. "Don't be a relic, Eric. Embrace the future."

Eric nodded again, mesmerized by the power and sexuality Julia held over him.

"What are you?" she asked, staring into his eyes, seeing both fear and desire reflected there as he considered the answer.

"Wife and homemaker," he replied.

"What else?" she demanded.

He looked confused for a moment, then took an uneven, nervous breath. "Mother," he said, knowing what she wanted to hear.

Julia smiled back at him approvingly, reveling in the victory of his compliance and surrender. "So, I'll ask you again and I expect to hear you answer, do want to be a better wife to me, a better homemaker, and a better mother to our daughters?"

Eric considered it for a moment, concerned that he was going to regret wherever she was taking them. Still, there seemed to be only one answer he could give. "Yes," he said softly, nodding in agreement. "I do. I want to be a better partner for you - homemaker, wife, even... mother. If that's what you want, then that's what I want."

"Good," she said cheerfully, her smile changing to something more smug and haughty. She sat back down at the table, relaxing. "You'll be happy to know then, that the medical group I mentioned before can help you realize those goals."

"What?" Eric's heart rate spiked, more from fear than excitement. He knew he was in trouble. But was it even possible to stop Julia any longer?

"Well, since you failed as a man and provider I had to give up my dream of staying with our daughters," she said with measured words and a quiet indignation. "I can't be a stay-at-home mom. I don't get to nourish our daughters or bond with them like I wanted. You denied our daughters a natural and loving bond. They don't get to suckle at their mother's breast because of your lies and laziness. Your actions practically condemned them to bottle feedings."
"I... I am so sorry," he said sincerely.

Julia's expression changed to something smug and cruel as she stared at him. "It's okay, Eric. Because you're going to make up for it," she said firmly. "Personally."

"I... I don't understand," he said.

"Well, that's where the medial group fits in," she replied calmly.

Eric grimaced with confusion and fear.

"They're going to make it possible for you to be a proper wife and mother."

"W... what? How?" he asked, perplexed.

"Their going to make you lactate, Eric," she said matter-of-factly.

His eyes had a vacant, distant look at first while he tried to make sense of Julia's words. Then suddenly, his face wrenched into disbelief as denial and panic began setting in.

"It's only fair," she said, sincerely. "Since I have to work and can't breastfeed our daughters properly the responsibility falls to you. You've agreed to be homemaker, wife, and mother. It only makes sense. Besides that, you're the one who caused the problem to begin with. You need to fix it."

"B... But, I can't! I don't... I don't have tits!" he blurted in panic.

"You can be upgraded," she said calmly.

Eric shook his head rapidly back and forth, mumbling and stammering incoherently, befuddled and flustered.

She watched him for a few moments before deciding to put a quick and decisive end to it. "Stop it!" Julia yelled, slapping her hand on the table. "Get ahold of yourself!" she demanded, watching him as his lip quivered. "Crawl over here and kiss my feet!" she commanded.

Trembling, quietly, he crawled forward, obeying and pressed his lips to her shoes, placing small kisses on the laces of each.

"I thought you said you've changed, Eric!" she said pointedly. "That you wanted to figure out how to fit in. Well, this is it! This is your answer! This is how you fit in!"

"But, female hormones? I don't-"

"No! They use cutting edge technology, very high-tech. But what does it matter? Even if they were using female hormones, so long as medical professionals were involved to properly monitor them, they could only be beneficial. The less masculinity in you the better as far as I'm concerned."

"But-"

"But nothing!" she said. "You were right about one thing - the world is different. People have evolved past whatever narrow minded ideas of maleness and gender you have," she insisted. "So what if you slide more towards the feminine? So what if you leave some of your maleness behind? If you end up with tiny, little boobies it'll be an improvement. What does it matter?"

Eric said nothing, not wanting to anger her further.

"You should be thrilled at the bond you'll be able to have with our daughters, that should be enough! And you'd be pleasing me! Those are what you should focus on! That's what's important!"

Eric pressed his lips to Julia's shoes again and kissed them, fighting back tears, trying to hide his face, not wanting her to see how broken he was, so confused he couldn't think straight anymore. He might not be able to go through with whatever she had planned but fighting with her seemed pointless. He needed time to think but even with his face buried in her feet he could sense she was staring at him, expecting a response.

"You're the boss," he said simply, struggling to keep his voice from wavering. "If you want me to have... make it so I can... for our daughters... I..." He struggled inside, wishing desperately for something stronger to assert itself to reject the whole idea but it wasn't there. He sniffed in the scent of her shoes instead - warm leather and dyes with the faintest scent of her feet within, intoxicating. He raked at the carpet, biting in with his fingers in frustration. She owed him. "Okay," he finally said. "If that's what you truly want."

Julia's anger dissipated quickly, replaced with a sense of power and accomplishment. The worm was her's to command. He didn't have the will to stop her anymore. That seemed fairly certain now. She could redefine his masculinity, likely alter him as much as she wanted, make him more pleasing, more feminine. Wife, homemaker, and mother were good things after all. Feminizing him was helping him, enhancing him, altering him to better fit his new life. She smiled broadly at the thought.

"Perhaps you have changed," she said with a lilt in her voice.

He looked up from the floor and nodded, biting his lip for fear of saying the wrong thing, hoping she would be kind.

"Maybe I can ease up on you a bit after all, start expanding your roles of wife and homemaker. There's a lot more you should be doing, like food shopping and meal planning. You should be doing more for my clothing too, like caring for the dry-cleaning, getting better at hand washing my panties, polishing my shoes, those types of things. I still want you to start doing my nails soon too. So many things to do," she said.

"Okay," Eric said contritely, nodding, trying to smile. "Those are ways to fit in. I like constructive things."

"Embrace the changes," she said.

"I will," he said, almost too quickly, trying to convince himself as well as her.

"Good. I have a list of things for you to do today then, starting with driving me to work. We'll use my car. You can get groceries with it afterwards, I'll give you a list." Julia stared at him, wanting to gauge his reaction to her next bit of news. "We're going to sell your car," she said. "With my work and personal cars, we don't need a third vehicle. I'm not paying for it any longer. Besides, if you ever decide to walk out on me again you'll do just that - walk. Try taking one of my cars without permission and I'll have you arrested for auto theft."

Eric nodded, gritting his teeth in silence, knowing she meant it. He wasn't sure if they could actually arrest him or not but only Julia's name would be on the cars so it might be possible. With his luck a female cop would arrest him, a female prosecutor would bring charges, and a female judge would find him guilty. With women slowly taking over why risk it? Losing his car was another step towards making him totally dependent on her, another chain, more control. As much as his rational mind hated it, his developing submissive side loved it in equal measure, maybe more. That part of him wanted to help her forge the chain, knowing that every link made it harder to ever escape her.

"I laid an outfit out for you this morning. In the bedroom, on my bed," she said, returning to her breakfast, taking another small bite of the omelet.

"An outfit?" he asked, concerned.

"Yes, to drive me to work in," she said. "I'm an executive. There are standards to maintain. I can't have my wife running around like a slob. Now, go get dressed."

Eric got off his knees and walked into the bedroom with trepidation, his steps slowing as he approached the clothing on the bed. Draped over the bottom edge was a fancy looking white shirt laying over what appeared to be a pair of black slacks, neither of which he recognized. Far more alarming though was what sat, neatly folded, on top of the slacks - the same red, silk panties with rose-pattern brocade that he had planned on taking with him as a memento when he tried to leave Julia, the same pair she made him wear once before!

"Problem?" Julia asked startling him. He twisted around quickly, looking at her with a pained expression, not having heard her walk into the room.

He pointed behind him, at the clothes, while facing her, the expression he wore still pained, almost comical looking. "All that?" he asked.

Julia nodded, smiling.

Eric walked up to the clothing and gently lifted the shirt off the bed, examining it. It looked oddly cut, everything seemed a little off - too pointy a collar, a slightly pinched waist, a flare at the hips. The buttons were even stranger, clustered in groups of three rather than being evenly spaced. They looked plain wrong, even perplexing, until he realized all the buttons were on the wrong side of the shirt, attached on the left rather than the right like they should have been. He quickly twisted around to see Julia grinning as he began to blush.

"This isn't a man's shirt - is it?" he said.

She shook her head, grinning, pursing her lips in amusement at his predicament.

He turned back around to look at the slacks, picking them up, quickly finding the zipper on the side rather than the front, realizing in that moment that they were women's slacks! He flipped back around again to see Julia beaming with amusement while his cheeks burned hot from shame. She had given him an entire outfit of women's clothing to wear!

"Oh, almost forgot," she said. Reaching into her closet, bending over, she retrieved a pair of black shoes that looked a lot like a pair of Oxfords he owned except these had what looked like almost three inch block heels on them! She placed them at the foot of the bed, adding them to the outfit. On casual inspection, from the front anyway, they might pass for men's shoes but, given the high heel, clearly they weren't.

"Why?!" he asked with a whisper of grief, red faced from shame, looking like tears were about to start falling.

Julia's expression shifted, getting more serious. "Because you're not a man anymore. Because you're my wife and I told you to start thinking more like a womon. And maybe the most important reason - because I want you to! I like the idea of putting you in womyn's clothing."

Eric looked miserable but resigned to his fate, haplessly shrugging his shoulders as he plucked the delicate panties off the bed then shook them open. "People are going to think I'm some kind of sissy girly boy," he lamented.

"You're my sissy girly boy," Julia said with some measure of pride in her accomplishment. "Let your feminine side out," she urged, "embrace her, nurture her."

He dipped his head, unable to look Julia in the eyes. It felt like he was at another crossroads, another barrier, about to be crossed, that might just erase what little of his old self still existed. What was she turning him into? Julia had been telling him all along that she planned on changing him, had warned him repeatedly. Where he was now was his fault, he decided. Besides, she owned him, he reminded himself. If she wanted to crossdress him, then so be it. He really wasn't much of a man anyway, that seemed more obvious every day.

"Well? Get dressed then," she commanded.

Reluctantly, he dropped the robe, thankful that his misbehaving cock was mostly soft for a change, and stepped into the panties. Julia looked on eagerly as he pulled them up to his waist. It felt so wrong and deviant to be wearing Julia's panties, his cheeks burning from the embarrassment of having something so utterly girly on.

He quickly grabbed the slacks next, hoping to cover the shame of the panties. They were far snugger than he expected, the slacks hugging his legs like a second skin while he tugged them into place. It was something he wasn't used to at all, form hugging slacks, more feminine guile for enhancing sexual appeal. Once the legs were finally situated, he fumbled with the zipper on the side for a bit, jerking on the slacks, fighting with them, until finally the zipper locked into place.

"Not bad, for a male anyway," Julia said, looking over the skin tight slacks, tugging on them in a few places to straighten them out better.

The slacks were so form fitting, Eric couldn't help but feel like he was wearing women's tights or pantyhose, something only slightly better than the panties underneath. He was mortified at how he looked in them but grateful, at least, that Julia hadn't forced him into a skirt or dress instead, that may have been too much to bear.

"Now your pretty top," she said.

Words like 'pretty' or 'top' weren't words he ever wanted to use with clothing he wore but he picked up the shirt anyway. It went on normally enough, one arm at a time, but his fingers struggled with the buttons, they were simply on the wrong side. It was a funny thing how muscle memory worked, he thought, the fingers on his left hand having no skill at all with something as simple as buttoning a shirt. The fact that his nails were slightly longer and painted with Julia's bright red nail color only added to his misery. Julia, for her part, seemed thoroughly amused at the lack of coordination and fumbling, grinning at every failed, twisted attempt, but eventually one by one all the buttons were finally secured.
"Shoes," Julia directed, cheerfully, pointing to the floor at the feminine, high-heeled, Oxfords.

Eric sat down on the bed wordlessly and slipped his feet into the feminine footwear. They were a bit tight but otherwise easy enough to put on and tie. Other than the crazy height of the heels they were, at least, familiar, until he stood up. Three inch heels were simply not something he was prepared for, most his weight suddenly shifted forward, then back again, awkward teetering followed for a few moments until, thankfully, he fell back to a seated position on the bed.

"Not as easy as it looks, huh?" Julia said, snickering. "Be grateful I didn't start you in stilettos. You'll get used to those quickly enough. They're nothing to walk in," she assured him, extending an arm out to help. "Come on, up."

He stood again, unsteadily at first, using Julia to balance, then took a few careful steps forward on unsteady ankles. She backed away allowing him to find his own balance. It was then that he saw himself in the mirror of Julia's vanity and gasped, his face contorting into sadness and regret looking at the crossdressed, effeminate sissy reflected there. He turned away from the mirror and looked down at himself, scanning up and down, looking at every part of the outfit Julia put him in, then finally stretching his arms out to stare at his nails.

"Your nails are part of the outfit, if you were wondering," Julia said.

"What?! But... In public?! I can't-"

"Of course, you can and you will," Julia said sternly, shutting down debate.

He looked into the mirror again, then carefully moved closer to it as he peered fixedly at the reflection. His shoulders sagged as he dropped his head. There was no denying it - Julia had made a sissy out of him.

"I look terrible," he said dejected.

She came up behind him and put her hands on his shoulders to comfort him. It felt soothing, a kindness from the past, something the old Julia might have done. "You look fine to me," she cooed, rubbing his shoulders, providing a brief massage. "It pleases me more than you know," she added, reassuring him, boosting his confidence.

"What am I anymore?" he asked in a whisper, pain tearing at the edges of each word.

"What I want you to be," she answered smirking.

"But-"

She quickly turned him around to face her, almost tripping him in the process as he pivoted about in the unfamiliar heels. "You're going to have a lot more to get used to. This is nothing."

He held his hands up with his polished nails toward her, his eyes pleading.

She arched her eyebrows unsympathetically in return, determined to make him accept a new feminized persona. The more feminine he felt, the more easily she could wreck his masculinity, the easier it would be for him to accept having boobs, the easier it would be to control him.

"I promise I'll put it back on the moment I get back home from dropping you off at work," he said.

"No. It stays on," she said. "In fact, from now on, I expect you to have your nails properly polished all the time, everyday, just like I do," she directed. "It becomes a part of you, permanently, like your tattoo. The only time you're not wearing nail polish is when you're redoing your nails. I want you so used to having your nails painted you'll feel naked without them done."

Eric dropped his hands and head, his heart sank.

"Do you understand?" she asked, demanding an answer.

"Yes," he said nodding, "I understand." He had the posture of somebody defeated. She said she would be cruel, he reminded himself. It was going to be horribly humiliating but it was clearly what she wanted. He needed to do his best to obey and accept it, the most important thing was keeping her happy. He twisted back towards the mirror, wondering if he would ever see himself without painted nails again. He still looked terrible, not very feminine at all, but was almost grateful for his slight build. From a distance, perhaps from behind, people might ignore him, maybe not realize he was a feminized sissy, might think he was an actual girl and entitled to nail polish and high heels. Was it really so horribly bad?

"We're leaving in a few minutes, get ready to go... Erica." And with that, Julia had renamed him. She walked out of the room leaving him to try to absorb everything. He couldn't help but look into the mirror again, at the reflection of the sissy there, wondering how much more Julia would really do to him.

"Don't stand there all day, Erica!" she yelled from the other room.

Carefully, finding his balance, he stumbled out of the room to join her. It was going to be a terrible day.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The Appointment

"This is the place," Julia said enthusiastically as she turned off the highway. They passed onto a private road and headed towards a large corporate estate with a tall, looming brick wall surrounding it.

Erica didn't want to be there. He felt lightheaded and nauseous, desperately worried about where Julia was taking him. She, on the other hand, looked serene, smiling as they passed through the large iron wrought gate guarding the estate. When the road ended, they found themselves in a large, empty, parking lot.

Julia quickly parked the car and turned towards Erica, displaying a confident smugness that made his queasy stomach churn. Her smile seemed oddly cold. It made him even more ill at ease. This was truly the last place he wanted to be, especially for a medical appointment.

"Our future is here, Erica," Julia said reassuringly. "Be proud of how far you've come."

The estate looked like a business park of some sort, everything clean and professional, with well tailored landscaping and a tightly nipped lawn. A tall, sleek, glass and steel framed building dominated the area with a broad, inviting sidewalk leading to its mouth. Everything looked peaceful enough. There wasn't anybody nearby to be concerned about, not a soul in sight. Still, his senses told him something was deeply wrong with this place.

Julia looked at Erica, practically quivering in his seat, with sublime satisfaction. Every day she shaped him more to her liking, pushed him into further service. Today was special though. If everything went as planned, his life would be irreversibly changed. She squeezed her thighs together thinking about how permanent things would become soon. Right now, he could take off the cute little outfits she was making him wear, scrub off his nail polish, and go back to 'boy mode'. But once his breasts had fully developed that would be virtually impossible. If things went as planned, he would be forced into a bra for the rest of his life. Unless he wanted to jiggle about, she mused. What fun that would be, watching him cringe and cry with every jiggly step.

"Time to go, Erica," Julia said with a lilt. She got out of the car and starting walking slowly towards the building, gesturing with her finger for him to follow.

Erica swallowed hard, opening the door with a sweaty palm, teetering briefly on the heels Julia made him wear as he closed the door behind him. Looking down, he winced seeing the four-inch, block-heeled pumps strapped to his feet. He could barely stand in the things let alone walk properly.

"Come on, Erica, we don't want to be late," Julia yelled over her shoulder.

Erica pushed away from the car and hurried to catch up to Julia on the sidewalk, stumbling a couple times along the way.

"Take smaller steps for goodness sakes. You're in pumps, not sneakers. Remember, heel-toe, heel-toe."

He slowed down and did what she said, concentrating on the stride, glancing down at his feet. She had him in a pair of black denim jeans with a cuff that came just a little below the ankle straps on his pumps. The jeans were too tight on him but infinitely preferable to the capris she threatened to make him wear. She had wanted to shave his legs for the capris but, thankfully, they had run short on time so she abandoned them for the longer jeans. He wasn't as fortunate with the top of his outfit though. His blouse was as red as his nails, with short puff sleeves and little white buttons for accents. It looked ridiculously feminine and made him extremely self-conscious, screaming 'sissy' at anybody who got near enough to see him.

"Where's your purse, Erica?"

Erica felt the blood rush to his cheeks, stopping just a few feet from Julia. She stood there, hands on hips, clearly annoyed at his forgetfulness.

"Well?! You need to get used to carrying a purse. Go get it!"

He rushed back to the car, stumbling along the way, and retrieved the old black leather shoulder bag Julia had given him earlier. He felt like he might die from embarrassment as he threw the bag's long strap over his shoulder. He hurriedly started back towards Julia, stumbling forward, as the purse swayed at his side.

"Smaller steps. More lady like, Erica. Heel-toe, heel-toe," she instructed.

Erica grimaced in frustration then slowed down and acted like a good sissy, doing as he was told, doing his best to walk more like Julia did. She turned back around as he reached her and they began walking towards the building together, like two women might, side by side, walking in their pumps together as his purse swung about on his shoulder. He felt so embarrassed and emasculated he wanted to cry but gritted his teeth instead, pushing the feelings back down. Crying was something a girl wound do. It was the last thing he needed. But, it didn't stop him from complaining.

"They hurt me feet," he said.

Julia abruptly stopped and they faced each other. "You have the nerve to complain to me about wearing heels?!"

"I... I'm sorry... I just-"

"Do you have any idea how much womyn have suffered for beauty?! Suffered for men?! Any idea at all?!"

Erica slowly shook his head, hoping to placate her, realizing he had foolishly stumbled into a mine field.

"Of course, you don't. You don't have a clue," she said. "Maybe we can fix that, give you an opportunity to develop a sense of empathy," she added. "From now on, you wear heels every day, all day long, morning to night." She poked him in the chest just enough to make him teeter. "You need the practice."

"But-"

"You can take them off when you go to bed and when you shower, otherwise I want to see you in heels," she said sharply.

He stared at her, stunned.

"You'll master stilettos in no time at all this way," Julia quipped with a smile. She began walking towards the building again. Erica stumbled forward to join her.

"I'm sorry I said anything," he said sincerely.

"I bet you are," she replied as both their heels clicked away on the sidewalk, Erica feeling more anxious with every step.

As they got closer to the entrance, Erica began to panic. Just past the revolving door, through the tinted glass of the building, he could see a security desk with a woman behind it. She was staring directly at him! He suddenly stumbled on an uneven bit of sidewalk, pitched forward, and almost flew into the door, staggering as he regained his balance. Julia stopped, looking at him like he was the village idiot.

"Pick up your purse, Erica," she said caustically.

Cheeks burning with shame, having made a spectacle of himself, he retrieved the purse from the ground, brushed it off, and pulled it back up to his shoulder where it belonged. "I'm fine," he said crisply, lying, while trying to hide behind Julia from the woman inside. She had to be laughing at him, he decided. What type of pathetic man tripped over his heels and dropped his purse?

"Don't embarrass me, Erica," Julia said. "I'm warning you."

"Sorry."

Julia pushed through the revolving doors. Erica followed. The woman behind the desk focused entirely on Erica with a humor filled smirk, enough to make his cheeks flush a rosy red from embarrassment. She knew exactly what a pathetic sissy he had become, he was sure of it. Did she know Julia was planning to put breasts on him too?!

"Seventh floor," the woman said with a broad smile, pointing to a bank of elevators to her right.

"Thank you," Julia said graciously as they began walking towards the elevators.

Erica was certain the woman would bust out laughing at him at any moment but she didn't. Instead, the only sound was the distinctive click-clack of their heels striking the tiles as they walked away. It made him recall all the times that very sound had caused him to search around for a woman in heels, hoping she was attractive and wearing a pretty dress or short skirt. Now, being the source of the sound, the very notion was disturbing. He didn't want anybody looking around to see him, other men least of all. He was actually grateful when they stopped walking to stand by the elevators.

When they reached the seventh floor, Erica was surprised to see nothing but a simple, solid white, steel door opposite the elevator. There was no name on the door, nor around it, only a design stamped onto its surface in bold black ink - a thick trunked, gnarled tree, filled with leaves. Julia recognized it immediately as the same logo she had seen when she spoke with Dr. Joyce.

"This is the place," Julia said succinctly as she walked over to the door.

Erica's legs suddenly felt rubbery but he followed Julia anyway, struggling forward on his high heels and into the office behind the white door.

The room they entered wasn't what Erica expected at all. There was no receptionist, no furnishings, nothing like that. The room was small, sterile looking, and all white, almost like a clean room. The only things in the room were a large mirror on the opposite wall and another door that looked even sturdier than the one they had come through. The strange room made Erica all the more uneasy about his appointment. If anything, this was a security check point, he reasoned. Why did they need that? What were they protecting?

"Hello?" Julia said.

Erica stood a few paces behind her, wishing they could just leave.

Tentatively, Julia tried the inner door and, as Erica suspected, it was solidly locked. She moved over to the mirror, approaching it slowly, when a voice suddenly rang out from above, startling both of them.

"Welcome, Ms. Grant," the voice said loudly. "Please, come in, make yourself comfortable in the waiting room. I'll be with you shortly." A loud buzz at the inner door followed, releasing a thick bolt. Julia opened it and stepped through. Erica followed.

The emptiness and chill of the white room immediately ended, giving way to something entirely different, a colorful room filled with furnishings and comfort. The room was done in warm earth tones with indirect lighting filtering in from above that created an inviting and cozy space. Comfortable seating was scattered about with side tables, for every seat, which had computer tablets resting on them instead of the customary stacks of magazines. The center piece of the room was a large, bright, flat panel display on the opposite wall. It was projecting the same tree logo they had seen earlier, this one in rich greens and browns, spinning around the screen in an almost hypnotic dance. As they wandered further in, a couple of oversized love seats beckoned to them.

"Take a seat, Erica," Julia said, pointing to one of the love seats.

He sat down, trying to calm himself, still terribly upset at being there while Julia took the seat on the other side, facing him. They were several feet apart, with plenty of open space between them, but Erica began feeling strangely claustrophobic when he noticed Julia leering at his chest. It felt creepy. He wasn't accustomed to that type of attention at all. When she began grinning, it chilled him inside. She was imagining what he would look like with boobs! Maybe huge ones! Probably even filling out his red blouse to the point where the little white buttons were ready to tear off! It was almost too much to think about. That she could maybe really do that to him...

He fumbled the computer tablet off the table next to him with his pretty fingers, almost dropping it to the floor. It turned itself on and presented him with a myriad number of digital magazines and articles. It was something else to focus on, to get away from her intrusive stares. He was immediately thrilled by the large selection of reading material it offered until he realized that every single item was either a woman's magazine or something related to female empowerment. He groaned in frustration. There wasn't a single thing he wanted to read but, with Julia still leering at him, anything to help escape her penetrating eyes was a welcome diversion.

Quickly tapping at the tablet he settled on a current fashion magazine and, after a few more taps of his pretty fingers, began reading about some new nail polish and the different colors it was offered in. Halfway through the article, he laid his fingers flat against the tablet to compare how one of the new colors might look on his own nails. His shinny red nails were right next to a pool of new nail color on the screen when suddenly everything felt very awkward. After days of having them polished, of doing and redoing his nails so often, they were actually beginning to look normal to him! He abruptly tossed the tablet back on the table next to the love seat and folded his arms, keeping his hands tucked out of sight.

"Problem?" Julia asked.

Erica shook his head, lying. It was then that he realized the large display in the room had changed. The logo was gone. There was an image of a couple of women enjoying a sunset on a beach. It was replaced by a larger group of women enjoying the same sunset and laughing. A similar one came next. It was a rolling slideshow depicting inviting, vibrant, happy women. It was so vivid it drew him in, like he was actually there, smiling and laughing with the women. They seemed so free and alive. It was relaxing, tranquil, his arms and hands slowly going limp as he kept watching. New images kept coming, new places, new women, new contexts, each on the screen for only a few seconds before another came into view -- a young girl nurturing her doll as her mother looked on adoringly, a woman joyously holding her child proudly in the air, a baby suckling at her mother's breast getting life sustaining nourishment. There was something mesmerizing about them, powerful, a type of connectedness, a oneness so beautiful he wanted to... cry.

"Erica... Erica!?" Julia shouted at him.

He jerked his head towards her, startled, like he had been suddenly yanked out of a dream.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah... um... sure," he said, feeling deeply relaxed and drowsy, his limbs oddly heavy. He took a deep breath and blinked a few times. It had to be the stress, he decided. Julia wanted to ruin him as a man. Wasn't that enough to stress out anybody? And then there was Julia humiliating him in public, dressing him like a girl!

He thought back to yesterday, to the shopping trip she had ordered him on. She made him get groceries right after dropping her off at work. It was still fresh in his mind, the shame and panic he had experienced still very real. He could hardly believe he had actually done it, had gone out in public dressed in women's clothing, sissified, wearing nail polish no less. He only hoped nobody he knew saw him. There was no way to know. He had kept his head down the entire time, in a panic, teetering through the isles in high heels, doing his best to keep away from people. He hadn't looked anybody in the eyes. The floor and people's legs were mostly what he remembered looking at. He just knew people had been staring at him though, looking at the sissified male running around the store, snickering, probably hiding their children, maybe even snapping pictures!

"You've looked better," Julia chimed in.

"Just feeling a little tired. All the stress," he said in a monotone.

Julia watched him with curiosity. Something was clearly off. His eyes drifted over to the display in the room and a soft smile slowly spread over his face. He looked transfixed, like he was drugged or something but she had no idea how it was done or why. She felt fine. Nothing different at all that she could tell. Whatever it was seemed to only be effecting him.

She looked towards the slideshow cautiously, more out of the corner of her eye. It was an all female presentation, not a male anywhere, not even in the backgrounds. Boobs, boobs and more boobs, everywhere, in almost all the images. It was little wonder why Erica bore a witless, vacant smile, she mused.
After a time, a door on the far wall opened. Erica seemed oblivious, completely absorbed in the slideshow. Behind the door, was a young woman wearing a simple, pastel-rose colored uniform. Julia recognized the smiling, blond haired, blue eyed woman immediately - it was Pamala. She motioned for Julia to quietly join her. Julia got up and crossed over into a hallway. Pamala deftly closed the door behind her, leaving Erica alone in the waiting room with the mesmerizing slideshow.

"Julia Grant," Pamala began, extending a hand with a smile, "Welcome."

"Pamala, how nice to meet you in person," she said genuinely, shaking her hand. "I can't tell you how pleased I am to be here."

"We're very pleased to have you," she responded.

"Um... I was just a little confused about something," Julia said, pointing back towards the waiting room. "Do you know what's going on with Erica? He's acting... stranger than usual."

Pamala smiled pleasantly. "Of course. Nothing to worry about," she said assuringly. "It's a new introduction protocol we've been experimenting with to help our subjects... feel more comfortable. Think of it like a mild sedative if you'd like. The intent is to lower distress, help them understand what's going to happen to them... They can even embrace it to a degree."

"Really?" Julia asked surprised.

"Uh-huh," Pamala said, nodding. "Don't expect miracles though, we're not that far yet. Think of it more like... helping him to develop a deeper tolerance and acceptance for a more feminine perspective. Temporarily, at least."

"Not sure I understand," Julia said

"Well, technically, we've induced him into an altered state of consciousness, made him more susceptible to suggestion," Pamala said. "Right now, we're imprinting images and messages... ways for him to think and feel. For a time, his subconscious will be embracing the images we're imprinting there. It's a form of hypnotherapy with subliminal messaging. Instead of some... unpleasant reaction to feminization therapy, the idea of being more female will feel okay, normal, even feel good," she explained.

Julia started smiling. "You don't have a take-home kit do you?" she asked.

Pamala returned the smile. "No home kit yet but we do have a lot of technology to help re-educate and control males," she said. "AGen is just one branch of our research and development tree."

Julia's smile broadened. These women seemed to be just what the world needed. "How about chastity devices?" she asked excitedly.

"Of course," Pamala responded enthusiastically, "considerably advanced models in fact."

"Really?! That's fantastic. Do you think I could get one for Erica?" Julia asked.

"Of course," Pamala said. "We have a lot of things to discuss regarding Erica's future." Pamala gestured down the corridor to a small conference room near them. "Actually, you have a lot of decisions to make."

Julia's smile twisted into something wicked as she considered what she wanted to do to Erica.

They walked over to the conference room and sat down. Julia was immediately impressed. The room was sleek, modern, and very high-tech. Tempered glass and gleaming brushed aluminum were everywhere from the walls and door that led into the room to the table they sat at. The back wall was comprised entirely of large computer displays, racked ceiling to floor. The very table they sat at was a large display too, the entire surface functioning like a true virtual desktop with documents and images moveable by touch. Pamala tapped a few icons and an agenda appeared. She peeled off a digital copy with a slide of her hand, and pushed it to Julia.

They began discussing the events for the day, plans for Erica, possible outcomes, and on the role they expected Julia to play. Pamala reviewed the AGen technology in greater detail with her, using the back wall to display various images and animations of the process. Julia smiled through all of it and began squirming in her chair looking at photos of men with breasts that looked perfectly natural and normal. There were numerous images of men suckling infants too, cradling them like a woman would with the babies tugging away on large, milk laden, nipples. Most of the men had a distant look on their faces, appearing distraught at what had happened to them. A few looked so feminine Julia felt compelled to ask if they truly were men - they were. Pamala explained those men had optional procedures performed in addition to AGen. The same treatments were available for Erica too. Julia only needed to ask.

The last thing Pamala showed Julia was a video of a topless man, sitting at a table, with unusually large breasts. As the video began, the man was complaining about how filled with milk he was, at how much his breasts were aching while he was hastily assembling a couple of hand operated breast pumps for relief. The camera shook as the woman shooting the video giggled and teased him for not pumping sooner, for being so careless. He moaned at the admonition, sounding desperate, as he lowered his painfully sore breasts to the top of a table. He finished assembling the pumps in a frenzy then quickly aligned them over his large, swollen nipples and began operating the pumps, depressing and releasing the handles over and over, expressing his milk. He sighed in relief as a surprisingly large amount of breast milk flowed into the collection bottles. It continued like that for a bit as the bottles began to fill. Then, without warning, the woman recording the video cruelly yanked one of the pumps away from him. She began laughing as she zoomed in on his exposed nipple, making fun of him, calling him a cow, berating him for having so much milk. He was flowing. Watery looking drops were falling away from the tip of his large, engorged teat like a leaking faucet. He began begging for the return of his pump as the video suddenly ended. Julia was enthralled at what she had seen, deeply intrigued at the possibilities. Could she make Erica like the man-cow she had just seen?! The idea fascinated her.

After the video, Pamala turned the desktop into a simulator and training coach for Julia. She was reminded that AGen was a two phase process - genetic therapy to alter DNA, setting specific potentials, and the AGen training vest that directed armies of nanites to rapidly develop the alterations. It was the old nature versus nurture paradigm being evoked with technology. Genetic therapy established a new nature and the training vest nurtured it.

The simulator had retroviral options laid out as a menu of genetic potential settings. Once those were chosen the controls for the AGen training vest became active. Finally, there was a high-resolution rendering of a man that could be rotated and examined for results. Pamala explained the simulator to Julia then urged her to experiment with different gene therapy options and training vest control settings to change the digitally rendered man to her liking. It quickly turning into a game, setting options, manipulating training vest controls, and moving a time slider to see the outcomes.

Julia watched with fascination as the man's breasts would change from redundant male vestiges, into buds, and eventually into fully mature lactation organs. They had managed to take all of the complexity out, reducing everything to simple options and sliders. After she had the basics down, Pamala opened up even more options, more sliders to manipulate the little rendered man. Julia was stunned at how much could be altered by the gene therapy and nanites, everything from the size of the breasts, nipples and aureolas to more nuanced aspects like projected capacity and flow rates of milk production. It was actually possible to increase the production rate to a level where the breasts would have a tendency to leak frequently. The model would humorously represent the condition with little falling drops from the nipples which formed a puddle under the man, making him frown. It was comical in how it was portrayed but something that had to be miserable to experience and manage in real life. Still, the idea of watching Erica soak through his bras and tops oddly aroused her. The embarrassment he would struggle through every time damp spots started to appear on his tops would be so fun to watch.

"How's it coming?" Pamala asked sweetly.

"Fine. It seems... amazingly straight forward," Julia replied.

"I'm glad you think so," Pamala said. "A lot of womyn have worked on it."

Julia smiled. "I think... Maybe I've tortured my little training man enough," she said, pleased.

Pamala smiled.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Julia asked playfully.

Pamala nodded.

"I kept imagining I was actually doing it to Erica," Julia whispered mischievously, "putting breasts on him. Experimenting with him." She squirmed in her chair at the admission, her panties sopping wet from all the experiments with the little digital man.

"Well, the truth is Julia... you can," Pamala said.

A tingle ran up Julia's spine at Pamala's assurance. She licked her lips in anticipation.

"It's time to get serious," Pamala said, tapping away at the desktop again.

An image quickly appeared under her fingers and after a few more taps the entire back wall displayed it - a ceiling view of Erica in a padded lounger, no longer in the waiting room, unconscious, with a woman drawing blood from his arm.

"The sedative should wear off in several minutes," Pamala said. "We'll want to do the paperwork shortly. He'll probably be groggy, maybe a bit disoriented at first. Don't worry. It's normal."

Julia nodded, her eyes focused on the back wall. Erica lay there unconscious, helpless, waiting for his betters to determine his fate. The power women had over men was glorious. Julia bit her lip seductively, imagining him laying there with boobs tenting out his top, still trying to decide how big she wanted to make him.

"It's important that he understands and agrees to what's going to happen, that he signs all the agreements and disclosure documents," Pamala said. "There's also a medical power of attorney granting you authority over his future treatment. We want that signed as well."

"I understand," Julia said.

"I'm not sure you do, not entirely anyway," Pamala replied. "Although the documents have some legal value, they're much more important as phycological tools."

"Phycological tools?" Julia asked.

"Yes. It's important that he signs off on the AGen protocol," Pamala said dispassionately. "He needs to take ownership for his downfall as a man. It will help him adjust, make it easier to accept the physical changes. And, it can sometimes pave the way for... additional changes later. Maybe make him... a little softer, a little more curvy," she said. "That's entirely up to you, of course."

Julia nodded, smiling. It was clever, all of it. Getting him to sign documents made him part of the process, made it harder for him to complain afterwards. Getting buy-in was a tactic she used in business all the time.

"Make sure he understands what will happen to him when he accepts treatment," Pamala said.

"I can do that. I want to do that, in fact," Julia said. "Surrendering his masculinity is part of his submission to me," she declared. "Besides, being male is highly overrated. Who needs any of them?"

Pamala smiled.

"Nobody. Nobody really needs a male around anymore," Julia said, answering her own question. "In fact, I rather like the idea of having him all soft and vulnerable and completely dependent on me," Julia declared. "We're never going back to where we were. The less masculine he is the better."

Pamala couldn't have been more pleased. Julia had evolved considerably since their first contact. She half expected a reluctant wife filled with pointless concerns and misplaced compassion. Thankfully, that wasn't the case.

"You asked about chastity devices earlier?" Pamala said, broaching the subject.

"Why, yes," Julia replied excitedly, eager to see what they might have to lockup Erica's misbehaving cock.

Pamala smiled, then tilted her head towards the ceiling. "Can you bring in a Compactor Plus please," she requested.

Julia flashed an uneasy smile. Until that very moment she hadn't even considered she was being watched by hidden cameras. The thought that Dr. Joyce might be observing her, evaluating her again... It was more than a little unnerving.

A couple minutes later, a woman walked in holding a white box in her hands. It had a simple white bow fixed to the lid, otherwise it was entirely unremarkable. Far more surprising was the woman herself. Julia did a double-take. The woman was the splitting image of Pamala, even down to a small beauty mark on her cheek. The only real difference between them was the color of their uniforms, rose colored for Pamala and white for the new Pamala. Julia couldn't help but stare.

"Twins?" she asked quizzically, looking back and fourth between them.

Both the women smiled knowingly.

"You can say that," the other Pamala said with a smile, setting the box down next to Julia.

"Thanks," Pamala said to her lookalike.

"Anytime," the other Pamala replied as she turned and left the room.

Julia shook her head in astonishment at how identical the two women seemed. It was surreal.

Pamala shoved the box towards Julia with a smile. "Open it," she encouraged.

Julia grabbed the box and quickly whipped the top off. Her fingers immediately began caressing the smooth metal of the device inside. It made her grin.

"It's made of a titanium alloy," Pamala said. "Once it's on... Well, I've been told that it's nearly impossible to remove it without the digital key, not without significant tissue damage anyway." Pamala watched the excitement building in Julia's face. "Take it out. Look it over."

The first thing to come out of the box was a thick, hinged, ring. It was closed, making a full circle, with an interleaved hinge on the bottom of the ring and a bulkier area on top which locked both halves together. Julia tugged on the sides with both hands, pulling as hard as she could, but it didn't even budge. It was like a solid piece of forged metal.

"The scrotum ring," Pamala said, identifying it. "All the electronic locks are built into that part. Once we pair your fingerprint to the digital key you can open it."

"It uses my fingerprint?" Julia asked, surprised.

"It will, and only yours. And then, when you close it again, it locks solid, all by itself," Pamala said.

"So, if it uses my fingerprint, even if he were to get the key from me, he couldn't free himself?" Julia asked.

"That's right," Pamala confirmed. "You can even make him keep track of the key, if you want. Without you, it's useless. But... it's usually better if you keep the key. Show it to him from time to time. Let him see who his key holder is. Let him know his manhood is completely locked up by a womon and that you literally hold the key to his freedom."

Julia smiled.

"Of course, the scrotum ring is the foundation, the anchor," Pamala said. "Wrap it around the base of Erica's penis, behind his little sack, and let it lock on."

Julia set the ring down and excitedly reached into the box again. This time, she pulled out what looked like a cylinder of medieval plate armor with several articulating bands of metal that fit one inside the other. She turned it over fascinated by the design, unsure of what to make of it. The base had a half-ring with five thick tabs mounted all around which matched slots on the scrotum ring. The two parts could be fitted into each other, locking them together. This was far more than a simple padlock design that could be removed with a light-weight bolt cutter. Once this was on, it would stay there until the key holder decided otherwise.

"There's a smooth, hypoallergenic, resin coating the inside," Pamala said, "makes it much more comfortable for long term wear, reduces chaffing, that sort of thing. You'll also notice a slot in the front for urination. You can keep him in it a very long time."

Julia fingered the rounded top of the thing, examining the slot, imagining what Erica would look like wearing the thing. "Do you have a shorter one? This is too long for Erica's little cock."

"That's the best part," she said. "The bands aren't decorative, they're functional. The entire sheath, where the penis is housed, can be collapsed or expanded at will, even remotely. Give Erica as much or as little space as you want. It'll compress down to as small as two inches," she explained. "You can make erections impossible for him for as long as you want."

"Really!?"

Pamala nodded, grinning. "Control a man's cock and you control the man."

Julia nodded in agreement.

"Just be aware," Pamala started, trying to sound official and concerned, "long term restriction has been known to cause erectile dysfunction and can be responsible for weaker and smaller erections." Pamala giggled at herself. "Constrain a man long enough and you can make him limp and impotent," she said with a shrug of indifference. "If it concerns you, there's a sleep mode you can turn on, allows for nocturnal erections, helps to keep his man parts... healthy. All up to you, of course."

Pamala fished around in the box briefly and pulled out a small pouch. Opening it, she poured out a thin gold chain with a small rectangular device attached. One side of the device featured the iconic image of a key, while the other was fitted with a thin glass plate. After a bit of fiddling with it, Pamala placed it before Julia, glass side up. "Ready to become a key holder?" she asked.

Julia reached out with her index finger and pressed down on the thin glass surface.

"Press and release several more times," Pamala advised.

Julia tapped the surface as instructed, wondering how much Erica would whine once she put him in chastity. Would he become desperate to touch his cock? How long would it take? Weeks? Months? What if she teased him? Would he beg for release? Unexpectedly, she heard some resounding snaps followed by a high pitched whine as the sheath contracted all the way down to a mere two inches and back out again to its full length, some several inches long. The scrotum ring had also snapped open, making it ready to wrap around Erica.

"That's it," Pamala said. "You own the chastity device and the key is locked to your finger alone. All you do now is put the scrotum ring on your male, align the tabs from the sheath into the slots, and push the rings together. You'll hear it when the bolts lock into place."

An evil looking smirk crossed over Julia's face. She stared at the back wall again, at Erica laying there, helpless. She could hardly wait to introduce him to his new metal companion. She squeezed her thighs tightly together at the ache building there. She was slick with her own nectar.

"Any questions thus far," Pamala asked.

"No. Don't think so," Julia responded, tossing the gold chain with the chastity device key around her neck.

"Okay, then. If we're finished here, it's time for Erica to commit himself to the process and sign some documents," Pamala said.

Julia nodded. "Yes. Let's move this along." She stood up confidently, gathered up the chastity device with its box, and followed Pamala out of the room.

They walked down the corridor, deeper into the building, until they reached a door marked 'Patient Lounge'. Pamala opened the large door and they walked into the dimly lit room.

There were several displays spread out on the walls, most of them running the same slide show from the waiting room. Only one display was different, setup like a digital poster, it depicted a woman on one side and a man on the other, mirroring each other, topless, both happily suckling a baby at their breast. The man's chest had been completely feminized with breasts just as ample as the woman. Their expressions were identical, one of serene contentment. A two part caption was fading in and out over the scene - 'Andromammary Genesis', 'The Advancement of Man has Finally Arrived'.

"Indeed, it has," Julia whispered.

Erica was still laying in the padded lounger, unconscious, whimpering in some nightmare as they approached.

Pamala smiled at him for a few moments, quietly savoring the effects the new introduction protocol was having on his mind. They had forms to sign though. She began to slap at his cheeks to rouse him. In a few moments, his bleary eyes flickered open, struggling to make sense of his new surrounding.

"What...?" he groaned.

"We have some documents to sign," Julia said flatly.

He looked at her like he didn't know her at first then stared at her chest with an idiotic smile.

"Up here, Erica," Julia said annoyed, wondering if he would stop ogling her boobs once he had his own to look at.

He shifted his gaze upwards and stared blankly at her for a few seconds until recognition finally took hold. "Julia? What happened? Weren't we just..." His voice trailed off as he took in the room. "I don't remember coming in here."

"You dozed off," Julia said with a shrug.

He looked at her blankly then began staring at her breasts again.

"You need to sign some paperwork," Julia insisted.

"What?"

"Paperwork. So they can can give you the treatments you need to be a proper wife and mother," Julia said. She gestured to a small conference room setup off to the side with documents laid out across its glass surface.

He began pouting.

"I want breasts on you, Erica," Julia said, reaching an arm out to help him out of the lounger.

He struggled uneasily to his feet, still somewhat groggy and unfocused. Julia led him to the table where the documents were laid out then took a seat. He stood there for a few moments seemingly lost in thought, rubbing his flat chest with a frustrated scowl before sitting down. His eyes floated over to one of the displays on the wall with the slideshow running and his expression immediately went blank.

"Erica... Erica!" Julia shouted.

He snapped back out of trance to lock eyes with her. "Sorry. I'm... sleepy."

"It's time to sign the documents, Erica. Consent forms, disclosures, power of attorney, all of it," Julia said.

He looked at her, biting his lower lip, trying to sort out his confused thoughts. He shook his head. This was all wrong. She shouldn't be asking him to do this... but... She was so beautiful. Her body could bring forth life, sustain it! It had to feel incredible to be a woman.

"The places you need to sign and initial are marked," Pamala said matter-of-factly.

Erica picked up the pen.

"Feel free to read it, Erica," Julia said. "Really, you should. I want you to know what you're agreeing to."

He looked ambivalent as he started reading, the pen trembling slightly as it hovered above the paper.

"If you want a quick summary," Julia started, "it basically says that they're going put breasts on you and make it so you can nurse my babies." She let it sink in for a bit, wanted him to feel his masculinity slipping away. "Also, you're going to be granting me a limited medical power of attorney so I can help make decisions for you."

Erica's troubled face looked up from the paper and into Julia's eyes, wondering if any sympathy for him remained.

"They ask the womon to be involved to help you make the right decisions for your treatment," she said.

Erica looked troubled by the pronouncement. "I'm not sure-"

"Don't let it bother you," Julia said. "Like I've told you before, I'll never force you to do anything you don't want to do. The choice is always yours."

Erica sighed. He poised the pen over the disclosure form and lowered it to the paper. His eyes wandered to Julia's lovely chest, then to Pamala's. They were so desperately beautiful, so feminine and lovely. Breasts were... life. What did it feel like to have them as a part of you, he wondered, or to wear a bra to hold such beautiful, soft, treasures? For some reason he felt a deep sense of yearning to know.

"I do want you to do this, Erica. It's why we're here," Julia said. "Think of it as an upgrade. Part of you will become more female. You'll be able to see the whole world a little differently, far better than most men can. That should make you happy. You should be thanking me. Forget about everything else."

He looked her in the eyes once more.

"I want breasts on you," she said again, more firmly this time.

Erica began skimming the disclosure, initialing each section requiring it, acknowledging he had read it, agreeing to the terms as the words slid past his eyes. When he reached the last page he paused for all of a couple seconds then simply signed it, part of him repulsed at doing it, another part thrilled at the notion of moving one step closer to womankind and the beauty and life giving power they possessed.

Pamala smiled, taking the signed document and placing it in a portfolio. She then pushed the consent form in front of him. "This document is granting the use of the AGen process. You're asking for genetic modification and all of the associated technologies, effects and consequences. You may want to pay particular attention to the section referencing side-effects of treatment including the possibility of crossover feminization from nanite infusion."

He swallowed hard, fingers trembling, then glanced towards Julia's expectant face. In a sane world he would tear it up, he knew that rationally, but emotionally he felt a deep sense of connection to something beautiful and wonderful. He wanted to be part of both worlds, the male and the female. Wasn't that a good thing? He took a deep breath and began scribbling his initials on all the pages, barely skimming through them, his heart speeding up at the realization of what he was doing. He was formally agreeing to be feminized, asking for it, and couldn't seem to stop himself!

"Good," Julia said. "But don't be afraid to slow down and read what's going to happen to you. The whole focus of your life is changing."

Erica nodded, his heart pounding like a sledgehammer on an anvil. He kept working through the document, wanting to cry as he read more of the details. When he finally reached the last page his fingers froze at the signature line. Practically in tears, he looked up to Julia.

"Sign it, Erica," she said.

His jaw was trembling, feeling deeply conflicted inside.

"Erica! Sign it!" Julia shouted.

"It's time. Time you joined us," Pamala said softly, speaking directly into his ear. "Go ahead, sign it. I know a part of you wants to be a womon. That's perfectly fine and normal. Embrace her. Embrace that voice inside. Let her out. Everything will be fine."

Erica nodded. He scribbled his signature on the document.

Pamala smiled and quickly gathered it for her portfolio.

"Good girl, Erica," Julia purred, smiling triumphantly.

"You can prepare the injection," Pamala said, looking towards the camera in the ceiling.

"Injection?!" Erica asked. "Wait, I thought this was just a consultation or something today. What injection?"

Pamala just smiled in return as she slid another document in front of him. "Last one, limited medical power of attorney granting Julia some voice in your treatment going forward. Sign please," Pamala said calmly, ignoring his questions.

Erica's mind was racing. He was beginning to panic. Everything was still a bit hazy. Julia and Pamala just stared at him blankly waiting for him to sign the last document. His eyes scanned back and forth between the two of them as Julia's expression slowly soured. He signed. Better to avoid trouble for now, he thought.

The final document was added to Pamala's portfolio. Both women were smiling confidently. "Follow me," Pamala announced as she turned and began walking towards the door.

Erica pushed away from the table and began tagging behind her, his face fraught with concern. Everything was moving too fast, he wanted to put on the brakes. "I'm sorry... you said something about an injection?"

Pamala didn't answer. She walked out of the room with Erica trailing behind her, the weak following the powerful. It was reminiscent of Samantha's "who's the boss" game. Erica wasn't the boss of anything, not even his own life. They continued walking, deeper into the building, to another room, to another innocuous looking door. The plate outside the room had a single word etched into it - 'Imaging'.

"You... mentioned an injection a little bit ago?" Erica asked Pamala.

She turned to look at him, at the concern written all over his face and just smiled, saying nothing. She loved this part, when the boys actually began realizing what the girls were going to do to them. It was fun to watch them squirm. She opened the door and walked into the dark room, leaving him hanging.

The click-clacking of high heels began echoing off cool, unseen walls as they entered. Motion detectors then sent power to unseen lights above to illuminate the large room with a soft, indirect glow. Emerging from the shadows, dominating the space, in the back half of the room, was a glass chamber large enough for a person to stand inside.

Pamala walked several feet to the side, over to the control panel for the imposing looking apparatus and began tapping away. Light quickly poured in from directly above the chamber, illuminating the glass cylinder below until it looked like a stage waiting for a performance to begin. Equipment began humming within the room as it came to life. A couple of poles, embedded with scanners and cameras, suddenly did a rapid spin inches from the cylinder wall then came to a stop.

Desperate for answers, confused and frightened, Erica stepped gingerly over to Julia. "I don't... understand what we're doing. What... injection was she talking about?" he whispered.

Julia shook her head. "What do you think? The injection to put breasts on you," she replied annoyed. "Understand now?"

He stared at her until it registered. "Today?! Like, later today?!"

Julia nodded, sneering at him.

Pamala pressed another button on the panel and a section of the chamber wall rumbled and lowered itself into the floor, leaving a door-sized opening and a way inside. With another press, a light came on in the very back of the room, a dozen feet behind the chamber, to illuminate a simple changing area -- a chair, side table, and an open wardrobe with a few bare hangers.

"Strip," Pamala said to him dispassionately, pointing to the back of the room.

Erica abruptly turned to looked at Pamala, in shock at the demand. "What? Why?"

She ignored him.

He swung back towards Julia, his eyes appealing for her to intervene.

"You heard her!" Julia asserted firmly. "Strip!" She gestured towards the changing area, her nails looking like angry talons.

Erica was crestfallen as he walked slowly to the back of the room, the click-clacking sound of his heels reverberating off the walls while the women watched him make the lonely trip.

"Now, Erica!" Julia yelled.

Trembling fingers began struggling with the small buttons of his red blouse. Button by button, it slowly parted reveling his flat, naked chest underneath. He paused as a shutter ran through him, imagining breasts there instead. Would they be beautiful? Could he come to like them in time? He bit his lip as he slipped the blouse off, depositing it on a hanger. He stood there topless.

Julia was smirking at him, staring. It seemed obvious that she was imagining him with breasts too, breasts she was determined to put on him. He looked away, avoiding her gaze, then sat down and removed his pumps and jeans. He shuttered from the chill in the room as he sat there in a pair of simple black panties, another gift from Julia's drawer she had declared to be his earlier in the day when she had given him the jeans to wear. He took a deep breath trying to calm himself. Panties and nail polish were all that was left. That had to be enough for them. He stood.

"Naked!" Pamala insisted.

"You heard her! You were told to strip!" Julia scolded. "When a womon tells you to do something I expect you to do it! Now!"

Erica nodded and reluctantly pushed his panties down his legs, standing there cold and trembling before both women, his ball sack constricting in the chilly air as his tiny nipples swelled into hard little buds. Now, the only thing remaining was the nail polish. He felt vulnerable and terribly mortified as the women watched him.

"You'll find impressions in the floor of the chamber for your feet," Pamala said matter-of-factly.

Erica shuffled forward, taking small little steps over the cold tiles, eyes down the entire time. He held his hands in front of his genitals trying to preserve some tiny measure of dignity.

Julia's lips curled in disgust watching him make his way, thinking it ridiculous that he would shield his worm from view. Didn't he realize his cock didn't belonged to him anymore?

"If you want to play shy, Erica, you might want to put one arm across your chest to cover your boobs too," Julia taunted. "You don't want to end up a jiggling little tart do you?" she chuckled.

He literally shuttered at the thought! Control his chest!? Jiggle!? He drew one arm up like she asked then awkwardly dropped it back down, feeling foolish for even trying. There was nothing there to protect and his brain was just not wired for that!

"Pathetic." Julia said.

Erica stopped to gather courage as he reached the chamber, blinking his eyes against the bright lights overhead. He glanced back towards Julia, still hoping for mercy, but her eyes were firm and expectant. With a simple backhanded wave, she urged him inside. He took a deep breath and stepped through the opening in the chamber wall.

It was quiet inside. The lights were hot. Even with an opening in the wall he felt isolated, confined. The foot impressions, Pamala had mentioned, were moulded into the floor, spread a couple feet apart. Erica stepped over to them and slid his feet into the impressions, spreading his legs. It felt desperately odd to be standing there like that, naked, under the lights, with his genitals dangling. Instinctively, he dropped both hands down and cupped himself for protection. With the glass all around, under the lights, he couldn't help but feel like he was in a large display case, like an anatomically correct doll waiting to be played with by the women outside. A few seconds later Pamala pushed a button and there was a rumbling as the glass section in the floor slid back into place, effectively locking him inside. The glass was crystal clear and perfectly sound proofed. He couldn't hear anything from the outside, only his heart pounding away in his ears.

There was a loud click suddenly and a hum as Pamala activated an intercom in the ceiling. "You'll see a bar above your head," she said.

Erica looked up, struggling to keep his balance, squinting against the intense lights above. Eventually, he saw the bar. It was a couple of feet straight up. "Okay, I see it," he said.

"Grasp it with both hands and don't let go until I tell you to," Pamala said.

He looked forward with a blank stare, pouting towards Julia, keeping his hands over his manhood.

Julia's face turned to rage. She quickly crossed over to Pamala and jabbed down on the intercom. "You heard her, Erica! Stop trying to shield your pathetic, little worm and grab the bar like she told you to! Just do as you're told!"

With reluctance, he raised his arms and grabbed the bar, leaving himself on full view.

"Honestly, I don't how I ever thought of you as a man, Erica," Julia spat. "Look at your little shriveled thing! We should have put boobs on you a long time ago," she added with a grimace. "Now, follow Pamala's directions and stop misbehaving! You're embarrassing me."

Julia let go of the intercom button and apologized to Pamala for Erica's behavior. They exchanged brief pleasantries before Pamala went back to work. Julia simply stepped back to watch, determined to make him comply.

"Don't let go of the bar," Pamala directed. "It'll adjust to your size and height."

The bar retracted upwards, stretching his body out, then stopped.

"I need you to hold on to the bar, look straight ahead, and don't move," Pamala said.

"Okay," Erica said, nodding.

"I said, don't move!"

Erica stood as rigid as possible. Pamala was clearly another alpha female, very much like Julia, the authority in her voice was powerful and assertive. The women made him feel weak in comparison. It was hard to believe how vulnerable and utterly naked he suddenly felt in front of them. Women really had taken over. How did men fall so far, he wondered.

"Close your eyes now, until I tell you to open them," Pamala directed.

Erica's eyes slammed shut.

"How could I have ever been attracted to... that," Julia said to Pamala, disgusted.

Pamala shrugged. "Not your fault, Julia. Like most womyn, you were programmed to accept a male centric view of the world. We're going to reverse that," she said with disdain, stabbing a button on the control console. "The matriarchy is rising," she whispered to herself.

The scanning poles began spinning around the chamber as lasers painted a bright, red grid over Erica's entire body. The scanners moved down the length of his body as they spun, then back up again, electric motors whining away as computers mapped and analyzed every contour. Erica stood as still as possible, afraid to move, while the scanners did their work. A couple of minutes later, the grid disappeared and the scanning poles slowed to a stop. Erica's body had been digitally mapped, inside and out, with exacting precision.

"You can open your eyes now," Pamala said.

He blinked a few times, waiting for further instructions, afraid to move without permission.

The intercom went quiet. Pamala step over to Julia while he hung there and they started chatting, casually, as if he wasn't even there. He couldn't hear a word through the glass, the silence feeling oppressive, unnerving. He began feeling like a caged animal, growing desperate for the chamber to be opened so he could leave but neither of the women seemed to care in the least. They continued chatting and, in time, began gesturing towards him. Laughing quickly followed. It looked like he had become the brunt of one joke after another until both women suddenly burst into hysterics.

Erica was trembling from watching their antics, finally grateful that he couldn't hear them.

The women separated after recovering from their spasms of laughter. Pamala walked back to the control console while Julia simply stood there to stare at Erica with a cold, humor filled smirk. Part of him wanted to surrender completely at that point, feeling so small and pathetic in his new world that he didn't want to care anymore, but he was deeply fearful too. He didn't want to go through with the injection. Some lines should never be crossed, despite the consequences and changing a person so fundamentally, making a man like a woman, had to be one of those lines, even if it did upset Julia.

Pamala's voice suddenly pierced the silence, "You can get dressed now," she said over the intercom as the door-sized section of chamber wall rumbled and dropped back into the floor. Erica finally lowered his aching arms and stumbled forward, out of the chamber. He staggered over to the changing area on aching legs, eager to get cloths back on, but came to an abrupt stop only halfway there.

"My clothes? What happened to my clothes?" Erica twisted around towards Pamala with his hands over his manhood looking genuinely distressed.

"On the table," Pamala responded calmly.

He walked over to the small side table and gingerly lifted a neatly folded, powder pink garment to examine it. His face soured. Somebody must have taken his clothes and left the pink thing while he was in the chamber. The garment was some type of cotton pullover dress with a panel on top secured by buttons. The dress made no sense to him at first until he realized it had to be some type of nursing dress with a panel that opened for suckling!

"W... What about my regular clothes?"

Julia giggled.

"You'll get them back at the end of your appointment," Pamala said. "Now, get dressed, we're running late."

"Can't I get a regular hospital gown instead, you know, with the open back or something?" he asked.

"No," Pamala said.

He stood there dangling the dress by two fingers, pouting.

"Get dressed, Erica! Now!" Julia commanded, half giggling.

Sheepishly, he pulled the dress over his head and tugged it down with his pretty fingers. The hemline landed a couple inches above his knees. His pout deepened. This felt worse than the apron had. It was less fancy, to be sure, but wearing a dress for nursing totally creeped him out. He swallowed hard, almost choking. Was this his future?

"Come along, Erica," Julia said casually, turning her back on him as she sauntered away.

Walking beside one another towards the hallway, Julia and Pamala continued their conversation from earlier. Erica fell in behind them, the hem of his new dress swaying as he walked barefoot across the cold tiles.

"You should consider one of those property collars for him," Pamala said. "Interlocking, spring loaded bolts. When she closed it around his neck the bolts slammed into place, permanently. No key for it, no way to remove it without cutting it off, and it's very close fitting," she said excitedly.

"I'll think about it," Julia said thoughtfully. "I do love my tattoo on him though. Something very heady knowing my name is inked into him like that." She turned around to stare at Erica. "My name, permanently on him and there's nothing he can do about it."

Pamala smiled. "Should be a requirement for all males. Definitely help keep them in their proper place. There'd be a lot less philandering in the world if we started labeling all of them."

"Exactly!" Julia agreed. "Of course, you can't attach a leash to a tattoo so there is something to be said for a collar," Julia added with a giggle.

"That's true!" Pamala agreed.

Pamala continued leading them deeper into the building as they continued chatting. Finally, they slowed as they approached a large wooden door with a gnarled tree lovingly carved into its surface. "We're here," Pamala announced with a mischievous smile.

Erica's knees got weak as he read the sign next to the door - 'Treatment Room'.

"Time for your injection," Julia said.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Alterations

Bright lights and a murmur of women's voices poured into the hall as Pamala opened the beautifully carved door to the treatment room. Julia smiled broadly in anticipation as they entered. It was going to happen here, in this room. She could hardly wait to see it, to watch him get injected, and to see the look in his eyes afterwards.

Julia could see a number of women going about their routines as they made their way further in. Indeed, the world had changed. Women owned this high-tech medical lab from top to bottom. She was sure men had nothing to do with it. It was glorious. Pure female empowerment. She could actually feel all the positive feminine energy surrounding her.

Everything looked to be in pristine condition. White surfaces seemed to be everywhere from the tiles on the floor, to the walls, to the color of the various carts and cabinets scattered about. A couple women were busy running diagnostics on one of the carts nearby while others could been seen behind glass partitions, in side rooms off the main room. In the center of everything, contrasting dramatically with the rest of the room, was a black, reclining, examination couch. It was waiting for Erica.

"Have a seat," Pamala said sweetly.

Erica froze, staring at the couch like it might pounce on him at any moment.

"Stop standing there, Erica," Julia demanded. "Move. Sit."

He shuffled forward and lowered himself down to the edge of the seat, feeling too intimidated to sit fully back.

The room looked even larger and more imposing from there to Erica. Behind the glass partitions, most the eyes seemed trained on him. The nearest side room, parallel to him, featured tiered seating with several women sitting in there staring back at him, practically watching his every move. It was an observation room or medical theater of some form, he decided. The other side room, further back, had computer displays sitting on a long counter with a couple women casually working at them. It looked more like an office or nursing station to him, something he would expect to see at a hospital. It was then he suddenly realized that all the people around, every last one he saw standing or sitting or moving about, was female.

"I'll be back shortly. I need to check on his injection," Pamala said to Julia. Pamala started to walk towards the door leading to the nursing station then stopped and turned back towards Julia, with an amused smirk. "Now, might actually be a good time to... install his little gift," she said with a tiny shrug. She turned back around after that, made her way to the nursing station, and began talking with one of the women working on a computer.

Julia stepped over to Erica and looked down at him with a sadistic glint in her eyes. He looked like a trapped animal, small, petrified, surrounded by his betters, sitting there in a cute, pink, nursing dress. He was looking at all the women around him, trembling, struggling to maintain composure. It felt so oddly satisfying looking at him so weak and pliant, just a simple injection away from starting to fill out the top of his dress. But first, it was time to deal with his bottom half, time to make him pay for his rude, disgusting male habits.

"Erica?" she said pleasingly.

He jerked his head upwards from the couch to look at her. He looked a little pale.

"Remember the other day when I caught you... beating off while I was sleeping?" she asked.

Erica's eyes went wide.

"Remember I told you that it would never happen again?" she said.

Erica slowly nodded as his fear grew.

"Do you remember when I said I was going to cage your puny cock?" she asked, the words hitting Erica's ears like hammers.

His mouth fell open not knowing what to say or even think. He could only nod.

"I have a present for you, Erica," she said pleasantly as she produced the white box Pamala lookalike had given her earlier. "Something to keep that nasty cock of yours out of trouble." She placed it in his lap and smiled. "Open it up."

He lifted the top off the box with trembling fingers. Julia's smiling face encouraged him to explore the contents. Nervously, he started to removed the thick, hinged, ring. Despair flashed across his face and it slipped from his fingers, landing back in the box with a clank.

"Careful, Erica," Julia warned.

He fished it out a second time, holding it up with panicky eyes, turning it over, examining it as gloom settled onto his face. "You... you don't really want me to-"

"Put it on, Erica," Julia commanded firmly.

He looked at her with genuine distress.

"That locks around the base of your little worm and ball sack, Erica. Keep the hinge on the bottom. The slots need to face out."

He didn't move, just sat there quivering slightly.

"We've been all through this, Erica. You said you wanted to obey me, that I wasn't going to have any problems putting a cock cage on you. Right? So, pull up your dress and put that on!"

Erica dropped his eyes and nodded. Julia was right about all of it. He started to pull his dress up then stopped when he realized all the women in the room with the tiered seating were staring at him, most with satisfied smiles as they looked on. Another man was about to lose his cock to chastity and a powerful woman. Erica couldn't help but stare back at them, scanning each satisfied face, feeling humiliated to the core, paralyzed.

"Strip, Erica!" Julia shouted.

His head snapped back to her in shocked disbelief. "Wh... What?"

"Strip! Now!"

"B... But-"

"But nothing," Julia shouted. "How dare you embarrass me in front of all these womyn! You pathetic little sissy! You're lucky I allow you clothes at all! Now, take that dress off and give it to me!"

Erica slid off the examination couch with his eyes downcast, pouting. He sheepishly pulled the pink nursing dress over his head and handed it to Julia, careful to keep his head down, staring at the floor, at Julia's heels, at anything on the ground lest he see all the women, a dozen or more, laughing at him.

"Maybe next time I tell you to do something you'll be a little more eager to listen," Julia said, jerking a finger at him, stabbing her talon into his chest hard enough to leave a small mark.

He nodded feebly, his cheeks turning red, while muffled laughter from the women watching them echoed around the room.

"Now, I want you to sit down and snap that ring around the base of your cock!" Julia said. "All the way back, behind your little sack," she added.

Erica sat down on the edge of the couch and fumbled around with the ring, taking his time to position it, being careful so nothing would get pinched.

"Remember when I told you that you were going to be the one to lock yourself up? That's what you're doing now, Erica. You're going to imprison your own cock, not me. I'm not forcing you to do it. I might want it, even expect it. But, in the end, you're the one choosing to please me. The choice is always yours, Erica. Remember that! Now, take a good look at your little worm because you're not going to see it again for a long time, maybe a very long time!"

Erica's jaw trembled as he slowly closed the scrotum ring together. He felt a tightness all around as the ring was ready to close completely. His fingers were trembling more by the moment, his palms sweating. Suddenly, a loud snap resonated from the internal locking bolt inside the device, quickly followed by a whine from a tiny torquing motor which further constricted the ring, making it truly impossible to remove without Julia's key. His cock jerked at the imprisonment and began swelling at the thought of surrendering so totally to her.

She smiled smugly, enjoying tremendous satisfaction over the moment, then reached into the white box and withdrew the front half of the device, the prison for his worm, the penile sheath. She handed it to Erica, her long nails scrapping over the heartless metal as he took it.

"Line the tabs up with the slots and press it together," she said.

He turned it over in his hands studying it, his face souring with despair. It made chastity devices he had seen online look like cheap toys, their locks easily removable with simple metal snips. In contrast, this device was a serious piece of bondage tech -- a solid metal housing with internal, unreachable, electronic bolts for locks. Other than the key, power tools might be the only option for getting the thing off and those could prove ruinous to try to use.

"Put it on, Erica, so none of these superior womyn have to look at your disgusting worm anymore."

He nodded subtly, agreeing and began working himself into it. He was semi-erect, deeply excited by Julia's dominance but struggling with shame and fear too. Julia was taking his cock away and doing it in front of strangers! Did she even have any limits anymore? He needed to refuse! Why couldn't he tell her no?! Where was his twisted nature taking him?!

"No more pointing that thing at me without permission," she said, looking at his cock with disgust. "No more jerking yourself off without permission. No more erections, at all, unless I allow it!" Julia declared. "Now, lock yourself up, Erica!"

He groaned inside, agonizing over the dark, exquisite desires Julia had ignited in him. His cock twitched and swelled at the thought that it would soon be little more than a beautiful woman's toy, Julia's plaything, locked away for her amusement, no longer his to control at all. Feeling flush, he struggled to fit his stiffening shaft into the bend of the sheath. Damn his submissive side!

"Hurry up!" Julia demanded.

Erica forced his cock forward, painfully ramming it into the sheath, bending it, the pain increasing as he wriggled it on, conquering his erection to cage what was now Julia's cock. He groaned as the tabs reached the slots in the scrotum ring, his cock bending, struggling against confinement and losing. Julia's eyes were glistening in anticipation. She wet her lips, practically tasting his confinement. The rational side of his mind screamed for him to stop but he pushed all the harder, wriggling his hips, forcing the two parts together.

SNAP! The locking bolts slammed into place, like rivets fusing metal together, sealing the two parts into one.

Julia let out a tiny squeal of delight. She reached out and ran her fingers lovingly over the cool metal sheath, elated that her cock was now locked away. Impulsively, she yanked hard on the sheath.

"Ouch!"

Erica heard polite applause from the women watching around the room. He suddenly felt a deep burning regret for his stupid rashness. He grabbed at it himself, tugging at the device, looking for a way to remove it, the harder he tugged the more Julia smiled.

"Your cock is mine, Erica." Julia lifted the light gold chain around her neck and retrieved the small digital key nestled between her breasts. She held it towards him to see. "I'm your key holder," she said ominously. "Don't expect me to be a easy with you."

He stopped tugging at the device and just stared at it as an obvious truth settled in. He couldn't see his cock anymore. It was aching inside Julia's metal cage, trapped there, struggling against the confining metal and he couldn't even see it. He felt so completely stupid.

"Right now, that can stay on forever for all I care," Julia said. "Maybe I'll let you play with it... when we get you your first bra," she added with a shrug. "Not sure yet."

Erica winced at the suggestion. His cock still struggling inside against the metal. He grabbed the sheath and tried to straighten out the bend, his hands and fingers quickly trembling from the exertion. He quickly gave up. The sheath didn't even budge.

"I guess you're going to have to get used to peeing sitting down too," Julia said with a snicker, curling her finger downward to match the curve of his cage.

Erica nodded limply in defeat while the women around chatted away about his new status as a sissy in chastity. He could still see his balls at least but they looked stupid hiding behind all the metal. They seemed pointless. It was like he had been neutered. He sat there for some minutes, just staring at the floor, trying to forget everything, occasionally wiping away a stray tear. For the longest time he didn't even realize that Julia had walked away to work with Pamala on a much greater, more permanent, threat to his masculinity.

When she returned, he was still staring at the floor. She walked directly up to him, just inches from he head. Erica immediately recognized the legs and heels, lifting his eyes upwards to see a cruel, satisfied smile dancing across her lips. Whatever she had been up to, he knew it wasn't good, not for him anyway. A few moments later, Pamala joined her side studying a computer tablet which she lifted towards Julia to share.

"Dr. Joyce reviewed the treatment plan and recommended a couple of additional changes."

Erica's eyes went wide as Julia considered the tablet.

"She suggested increasing the number of areolar glands and increasing their base efficiency," Pamala said softly, pointing to some settings on the tablet. "They're the little bumps on the areola, around the nipple," she explained. "They help to keep the nipples properly lubricated for breastfeeding, can also help baby find the nipples for a good latch," she added. "Only downside really... the more glands the less pretty the areola might look."

Julia shrugged then absently jabbed a couple fingers across the tablet. She looked at Erica with an amused smirk.

"You sure you want that many?" Pamala asked.

Julia shrugged with indifference. "He's going to be my wet nurse. I don't want him whining about how much his nipples hurt when he's feeding," she said. "Don't much care how pretty his boobies look."

"Okay, then," Pamala said. "I'm fairly certain we can include the additional retrovirus in today's delivery. I'll... confirm that."

Erica's eyes were so wide now they looked bug like, making him look genuinely panicked. He swallowed hard. "Additional virus? I thought there was only the one," he said with a worried voice. "The one just to make them... function?" he said, gesturing to his chest. "I thought they could stay small too, no bigger than they absolutely have to be to... work."

The two women looked at each other knowingly, grinning, trying not to laugh.

"What?! What aren't you telling me?" Erica asked, distressed.

"Go ahead, tell him," Julia said to Pamala. "Give him the details."

"At last count, we had twenty-seven packages scheduled for delivery today," Pamala said.

Erica's face went blank as he tried to absorb the information.

"That's twenty-seven, specifically targeted, retroviral packages, all in your injection for today," Pamala said, "not one."

Erica shook his head a couple times in denial, not wanting to believe what he had heard. His face twisted up as he wrapped his arms protectively around himself. He began rocking slightly, back-and-forth.

Pamala glared at him. "Maybe we shouldn't have said anything," she said to Julia with concern. She watched him more closely for a few seconds then stepped back a few feet, tugging Julia along with her. "This type of reaction... can be concerning," she said quietly. "I have seen it a few times before and I must tell you, it didn't end well," she said.

"I don't understand," Julia said.

Pamala looked at her soberly. "It's simple enough to administer AGen, Julia, little more than placing the nozzle of a jet injector firmly against his body and depressing a trigger. But, the protocol is for him to self-inject," she said. "It is important for you to understand that we won't force the injection on him. It's going to be up to you to get... compliance."

Julia nodded, deeply embarrassed by Erica's sudden posturing.

"You need to talk with him," Pamala said flatly. "I... need to check on the prep work. Assuming we're not wasting our time today," she muttered. Pamala spun away and disappeared, back through the door leading to the nursing station.

Erica was still rocking, eyes closed, looking like he was in some self-induced trance, making Julia more angry by the moment.

"Don't you dare mess this up, Erica," she hissed. She began pacing back and forth, fuming, pondering on how to calm Erica down.

As Julia paced, a women from the back of the room began rolling a cart towards them. A computer display and video camera were mounted to a post on the cart, the display at eye level, while the camera rested in a motorized mount on top. The woman stopped several feet in front of Erica, positioned the display in front of him, and plugged it into an outlet as Julia watched.

"What's that for?" Julia asked caustically.

The woman sneered back at her and said nothing as she walked away.

Julia groaned inwardly. "This is not how this day was supposed to go," Julia hissed to herself.

The display flickered to life as a computer in the cart established a video connection to a remote lab. A woman's face suddenly filled the display. Julia's heart skipped a beat. It was Dr. Joyce. On the larger screen, closer-up, Dr. Joyce looked even more imposing and severe than Julia remembered, like her face was made of stone, cut and weathered by time, growing more coarse, more harsh, with each passing year.

Julia took a deep breath and let it out slowly as the camera on the post moved, adjusting itself downward to focus on Erica. He seemed to be in his own world, oblivious. Dr. Joyce's eyes tightened ever so slightly as she stared intently at his antics. She stayed on him for a time, evaluating him, making Julia all the more nervous. Erica was ruining everything!

Without warning, the camera began moving again, this time panning towards Julia. When her body passed into the frame, it stopped. The lens then slid upwards, only stopping when the camera finally centered on her face. Julia flashed an awkward smile towards the roving eye, hoping to dispel her growing sense of dread. It didn't work.

"We seem to have a problem, Ms. Grant," Dr. Joyce said flatly, managing to make it sound like an accusation. "We had assumed that you would have better control over your... male by now." Dr. Joyce stared at Julia with an unnerving, penetrating, glare like she was preparing to pronounce final judgement. "We find this situation very disappointing, Ms. Grant."

Julia pursed her lips tightly, drawing a haggard breath in through her nose, not wanting to say the wrong thing. "This... it's something new," Julia said. "I'm sure he's just... upset right now and nervous."

Dr. Joyce's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, signaling her disapproval. "The behavior he's exhibiting is far more than simple nervousness, Ms. Grant," Dr. Joyce explained.

"It'll be fine," Julia assured her. "You can just give him the shot anyway. I can deal with him afterwards. It won't be a problem."

Dr. Joyce leaned closer to the camera. "What would you have us do? Restrain him if he resists, Ms. Grant? Perhaps have a security team tie him down so we can administer the injection?"

Julia wasn't sure what to say. None of this was going like she thought it would. "If that's what it takes... yes," Julia responded.

Dr. Joyce rolled her eyes. Clearly, it wasn't what she wanted to hear. Julia's heart sank. Somehow, despite how terrible Dr. Joyce made her feel, getting the vile woman's approval surprisingly mattered to Julia.

"I can appreciate the commitment, Ms. Grant. Males can be difficult to rule at times, their unbridled, childish natures a constant irritant," Dr. Joyce said. "However, violence often begets violence. It's the way men have largely governed for millennia. It's a failed approach. As womyn we have far more sophisticated and elegant tools at our disposal. Nature has equipped us with the power to beguile the weaker sex, to bend them to our will. Properly trained, males will do nearly anything to please us, often for little more than an approving smile or kind word." Dr. Joyce took a deep breath as she continued to stare at Julia through the display. "You clearly have ample feminine charms at your disposal, Ms. Grant. There should be no need for something as crude as physical coercion or violence."

Julia nodded earnestly. "I understand. Really, I do. I've come a long way with Erica. It'll get done," she said. "I am not expecting problems from him," she emphasized.

Dr. Joyce cocked an eyebrow of apprehension, then returned to the ridged, deadpan glare she had moments before. "Seems like we already have problems, Ms. Grant." Her face turned to stone again, leaving Julia feeling uneasy. "You will not be given a second chance after today," Dr. Joyce added.

"I... understand," Julia said contritely, shifting her attention back to Erica with a hate filled glare.

He was sitting there much as before, hunched over, arms wrapped, eyes closed, looking miserable, still deeply upset and brooding. He had, at least, finally stopped the incessant rocking. Julia dug her long nails into her palms trying to calm down, vowing that he would pay for the embarrassment he had caused her. They were so close and now... this?! If Erica refused the injection it would ruin everything!

"What are you doing, Erica?" Julia asked, her voice filled with constrained rage while she struggled to keep herself from screaming.

He shrank back with a shutter, then slowly raised his eyes to look at her.

"I need an answer, Erica."

"I... I want to do this for you... I just..." His voice was strained and reedy. Tears welled up in Erica's eyes as he shrugged. "If I did this, what... who... am I going to really... be?"

Julia reached out and grasped him by the chin, then tilted his head up to force him to look fully into her eyes. She closed the distance between them, lowering her face to his. Her eyes were smoldering, deeply erotic, her lashes batting at him like scores of dark little whips. "We've been through all of this before, Erica," she said. "What are you?"

Erica swallowed hard, knowing what Julia wanted to hear. He shuttered. "Wife... and homemaker," he responded as her eyes burned into him.

"What else?"

His chin trembled. He felt light headed as he spoke. "M... Mother."

"That's what you're going to be," Julia said decisively. "There's no mystery here," she added, tossing his chin away in disgust.

Erica dipped his head downward, crestfallen, not knowing what else to possibly say.

Dr. Joyce looked on, her camera squarely fixed on him now, watching the drama unfold. Julia was certain that behind that impassive visage, Dr. Joyce had a sharp, coldly calculating mind. Pleasing her might prove difficult, she decided. Julia's opportunity came sooner than expected.

The women in the observation room began to stir, a few of them even walked up to the glass for a better view, focusing their full attention on Erica. Julia thought it odd at first, unclear on what all the excitement was about, until she saw Pamala approaching with a tray in her hands. Erica's eyes went wide the moment he saw her as panic set in. A couple women began chuckling, while the others looked on eagerly, waiting to see how Erica would react.

Pamala placed the tray down on a nearby cart and wheeled it over, leaving it next to Erica where he could reach it. On the shiny, stainless steel tray, sat a hypospray.

"Time for your... enhancements," Pamala said pleasantly with a warming smile.

Erica didn't move.

"You should consider yourself very fortunate," Pamala said. "You're about to become a new type of man. A more nurturing, better kind of man. You should take pride in that."

His eyes fixed on the hypospray. He inched away from it, like it might suddenly jump off the tray and bite him.

Julia gritted her teeth at his ill-mannered retreat.

"There's no needle," Pamala said, trying to encourage him. "You'll barely feel it."

The device looked intimidating, like some type of exotic gun made of white plastic, with a transparent cylinder for a muzzle that delivered retroviruses in a pressurized stream though a tiny bore hole. Even more menacing was the shinny stainless steel trigger below the barrel and the glass ampule sticking straight up from the grip. Erica imagined millions of tiny, feminizing, viral agents in the clear liquid of the ampule, swimming around, eagerly waiting to find their way into a male host.

Erica shook his head, eyes filled with fright, then quickly looked to Julia for mercy. "No. Please, no. Please... don't ask this of me. I'll do... anything else for you... just... not this," he begged.

Julia was beside herself with embarrassment, frustration, and rage. She turned her back on Erica expecting to half strangle him in a fit of fury if she looked at him a moment longer. Pamala's lookalike casually walked forward to stand next to Pamala. Side by side, they looked like matching bookends, except for the color of their uniforms, with disappointment and regret equally clear on both their faces.

"Do what they tell you, Erica," Julia half-yelled over her shoulder, digging her nails into her palms, trying to find a way to calm down.

"All you need to do," Pamala instructed, "is place the injector firmly against your arm and pull the trigger. Really, nothing to it."

Erica shook his head again, refusing. A few tears rolled down his cheeks. He shivered with misery and bent over, unwilling to look any of the women in the eyes. "I... can't..." His voice was a strained whisper, barely loud enough to hear.

Everything Julia had worked for was disappearing right before her eyes because of Erica! It was outrageous! How dare he do this! She suddenly flung back around to face Erica, her rage seething inside. She picked up the injector and shoved it in his hands without saying a word, her eyes aflame. They stared at each other in silence.

"What if I can't ever hide them?!" he asked suddenly as another tear rolled down his cheek. "I'd be some half-man... sissy... woman thing... forever! And everybody would know!" He shuttered again. "I don't want that," he said forcefully, gathering some courage. "I never wanted to be girly, not once in my whole life. I'm not like that! Never! I... I can't even imagine carrying around... tits! The very idea...! And you said you'd never force me to do something I didn't want to do. I... I don't want to do this!"

He dropped the injector back on the tray with a loud clank. "You can punish me... anyway you want," he said remorsefully, dropping his head down submissively. "I'm expecting something... severe... for disobeying."

Julia's lips twisted into a perverse scowl at his defiance, at the continuing betrayal and humiliation. She could only imagine how she looked to everybody, what they thought of her. Samantha would be utterly disappointed in her too, every hope and plan gone!

"I'm sorry," Erica said softly.

Julia's eyes suddenly darted over to the tray, her eyes fixed on the hypospray.

"I... just... can't," he said.

The words echoed in Julia's mind as her dreams of having a compliant man-wife began to fade. Her temples pounded away with his new betrayal, this pathetic refusal. She felt sick. The room seemed to fade into the distance. There was only the tray, the hypospray, the ampule. When her hand flashed towards the tray she didn't even recognize it as her own. Julia picked up the injector, slammed it into Eric's ribs, and pulled the trigger.

He sat bolt upright in shock, locking eyes with Julia as he rubbed his side.

She came back into herself, unfazed by what she had just done. She plucked the ampule off the injector, holding it up for everybody to see, her fingers still trembling with rage. Empty. She smiled at Erica cruelly, thrilled beyond measure at what she had just done to him. There was no way a simple man was going to be allowed to spoil her plans ever again, certainly not a submissive worm of a man like Erica.

He sat there seemingly in shock, his mouth open and moving but with no words coming out, only unintelligible noises, like he had lost the power of speech. His eyes drifted downwards, towards his chest. He could feel his tiny nipples already stiffening into hard little buds. Were they growing so soon?!

"Take a good look, Erica. Very soon, you're not going to look like a man at all," Julia enthused.

A couple of the women in the observation room began applauding, the rest smiling in approval over Julia's actions. Pamala and her lookalike were smiling as well, clearly pleased.

The stoic Dr. Joyce seemed unmoved though, her stoney face the same as before, until Erica began moaning and crying. Immediately, the corners of Dr. Joyce's mouth ticked up with satisfaction.

Julia smiled back at her, entirely pleased with herself.

"Well done, Ms. Grant," Dr. Joyce said evenly. The display went blank a moment later as the video feed was cut.

Julia stared at the blank screen, still smiling, the unusual image of a pleased Dr. Joyce still fixed in her mind as Pamala approached. She touched Julia on the shoulder to get her attention.

"You impressed mother," she said. "That's quite an accomplishment, Julia. Well, done."

"Mother?" Julia asked.

Pamala smiled with amusement. "It's what we call her," she said, broadening her smile.

Face to face with Pamala, the image of Dr. Joyce still fixed in her mind, Julia suddenly realized that the two shared the exact same beauty mark on their cheeks, the same one that Pamala lookalike also had. It suddenly hit Julia like a bolt of lightning, she became immediately convinced that she was talking with one of Dr. Joyces' clones!

"I believe she was impressed at how you handled Erica's rebellion," Pamala said. "Getting a smile from her is... rare."

Julia grinned awkwardly at Pamala, nodding, accepting the praise, but wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel around a clone of Dr. Joyce. The type of science they were wielding was on the frightening side. Still, so long as they helped transform Erica into the obedient, sissified, man-wife that Julia wanted, whatever they were doing was fine with her.

"When you're ready, let me know," Pamala said. "His training vest should be ready shortly. We can get him properly dressed, go over a few things with you, and then let you go for today."

"Thank you," Julia said politely.

Pamala smiled gracefully, then walked to the nursing station to attend to Erica's training vest.

With the injection now over, most the other women had left. Nobody was much interested in Erica any longer. The major drama was over, the male had lost. He looked miserable, broken. He had rolled onto his side on the medical couch into a type of fetal position with his legs drawn up and his feet dangling off the edge on the couch. He was trembling.

"Why?" he asked with a thin voice.

She sneered at him with disgust and contempt. That he had dared oppose her was outrageous beyond belief. "We both knew where this was headed, Erica," she said. "Be honest with yourself, you can't really deny me anything. You would have injected yourself... eventually. We just ran out of time for your... games. I did what needed to be done."

Erica shifted around to look at her, shaking his head in denial, not wanting to accept the truth.

Julia shrugged with indifference. "Doesn't really matter what you think. All of this started with your lies anyway. Every bit of it. You jeopardized our lives and the lives of my babies. This is the price of your deceit and betrayal," Julia said. "Really, you should be thanking me.

"Thanking you?!"

"Yes. I've given you an opportunity to make amends and to stay with me. You should be grateful," Julia said, glaring at him.

"Grateful? But... I... You said I always had a choice!" Erica exclaimed. "I didn't want this!"

Julia's face took on a graver aspect as she leaned over him, her breath hot in his ear. "Try this then, I did it because I wanted to," she whispered. "I did it because I can," she added. "You're a spineless, weak, submissive, sissy and I want to make you suffer for it," she hissed.

A shutter ran up Erica's spine.

"Besides, I've come to enjoy putting you under my heel and I have no intention of letting you go," she said.

Erica's cock twitched painfully in it's new prison.

"You're so twisted and pathetic I think you're enjoying it as much as I am," she said.

The room went quiet for a bit while they stared at each other.

"What you did was wrong," he finally whispered to her.

"I don't care," she said caustically.

Julia straightened up and smiled wickedly at her broken man-toy before walking away to find Pamala.

Erica's stomach churned as he slowly dropped his feet to the floor, genuinely distraught and terrified for his future. He watched her walking away, his cock pushing painfully against the metal encasing it as he stared at the bewitching motion of her hips and ass. The sound of her heels was practically music to his ears. His hart sank as he realized she was almost certainly right about all of it, about everything. He bit his lip to keep it from trembling. No question about it, he was in a great deal of trouble.