What do I do now?
Cross dressing is like a chigger bite. Once bitten, you can ignore it only so long. Eventually, you have to give in to the itch. The first scratch feels like bliss. Every scratch afterwards can lead to complications.
Sam Williams was raised in the deep south in a small-town south of Atlanta by ultraconservative fundamentalist Christian parents. That meant weekly Wednesday evening bible study classes, Sunday school indoctrination, followed by a service conducted by a hell and brimstone preacher. Sam never really bought into the personal savior doctrine, but went along with it in order to get along. There was enough ingrained in his personality he tried to live by the ethical code of the bible under the threat of spending eternity in hell.
Sam was bitten by the dressing bug when he was 13. His parents were off to another interminable bible study class. There was an Atlanta Braves ballgame he wanted to listen to, so he feigned a headache to stay home. As soon as his parents and older sister went off to Bible study, Sam grabbed a couple of cokes and sat down to watch the game.
The game got called for rain in the third inning, the cokes had worked their way through him, so he found himself in the bathroom. Sitting on the pot, he noticed his mother’s bra hung over the shower rod, drying. To this day, he had no idea why he was drawn to it. Like most 13-year-old males he had a breast fixation. He dumped his shirt and just had to try it on. Getting the hooks secured properly took several minutes but, eventually, he was successfully. The empty cups looked silly, so he stuffed his mother’s bullet bra with toilet paper. Posturing in front of the mirror, his heart leaped in his chest he suddenly had the figure of a pinup model.
He saw his mother’s lipstick just sitting there on the counter. Opening it, the first thing that hit him was the smell. It was like the Siren call of Greece mythology, he was drawn to it, even if it led to his eventual downfall. He coated his lips dark red with the waxy substance. His mother was a blonde woman going onto gray, so red had always been her shade of choice. Thus, it was Sam’s from that moment on. The transformation from a geeky teenager to a mature sexy woman was magical. He couldn’t tear himself away from the mirror. It was the birth of Samantha. That was all it took; the need to look like a woman was firmly implanted in his psyche.
That was it, he was hooked. Whenever he was alone, he would get the urge to dress even though his old Sunday classes would haunt him. Deuteronomy says, ‘God commands that a woman is not to wear that which pertains to a man and a man is not to wear that which pertains to a woman, for all that do so are an abomination.’
Despite the guilt he felt when he dressed, Sam would go through the dirty clothes hamper and pick out his mother’s clothes. She was a typical 50’s housewife and always dressed the part. To this day, drab housewife’s outfits held a special place in his heart. As he got older, his mother’s clothes lost their thrill and he moved on to raiding his sisters’ wardrobe. They were so much sexier. She had a waist cincher that was a devil to get hooked up but once done, he had the waist of a cheerleader. Then with the addition of the stuffed bra, the teenager had the distinctly feminine shape he desired.
He would then force his feet into his mother’s high heeled pumps. He would just parade around the house pretending he was a woman preparing to go out to a dance club. By the time he outgrew her shoes he was quite accomplished in walking and even dancing in heels.
@ @ @ @
After college, he was on his own to dress at home freely and he took full advantage of his opportunities. He never had the nerve or confidence in his appearance to leave the security of his apartment though. He developed a small collection of dresses that had the same thing in common, they were all house dresses. There was just something about that style that spoke to him.
After about six months of living alone, he met a woman. Beth was a friend of a friend, who stole his heart. She was attractive but nothing spectacular. At first, he was attracted to her for her body. She was a tall large-boned woman at 5’7” standing just one inch shorter than him. She had a few extra pounds, but to Sam, that was an attraction and not a turn off.
Their relationship started as friends; they went everywhere as a couple as they seemed to have similar interests. After dating for several months, Sam invited Beth to his place for a home cooked meal. He planned on ending the evening in his bedroom, so he was forced to purged all of his Samantha stuff. This was not the first time he had gone through a purge. Each time it was like saying goodbye to an old friend.
The night went better than he had ever imagined. The sex was impulsive and heart stopping. Sam had a climax like nothing he had ever experienced. They meshed like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Beth seemed to know what he wanted before he did. Sam wasn’t going to let this woman get away. They married about five months later.
Sam landed a management job in the local Savings and Loan. In the ensuing twelve years, Sam had risen to be the branch manager. The job was less than challenging, but it paid well. The money was the reason Sam stayed at the job. Time had crept up on him while he wasn't looking and he was now on the verge of middle-age. There were so many things he wanted to do before he got too old. He felt like his life was being spent just marking time and only going through the motions.
Just like his marriage. The first few years of married life was everything he had imagined. The sex was like a firework rocket. At first it was spectacular, but it reached its climax around year five. Then in a fiery finish, it just died away.
Then Beth’s aunt died and left her a small boutique in town. From the beginning, had Beth made no bones about it; housework was not her thing. The store seemed a blessing at first, Beth turning all her energies toward running the store. She left early in the morning and came home dog tired.
Sam hired a maid to help her out. The first one didn’t work out and, over the months, they went through a long line of maids. Sam seemed to find fault with each and every one of them. Beth did not care as long as she didn’t have to do anything at home other than eat, bathe and sleep. Sam complained about the maids. From sloppy work to showing up late to stealing to getting into their private things.
Like most commercial stores, Beth’s boutique was open all day Saturday, necessitating her being gone six days a week from dawn to dusk. Sam worked a standard five day work week, so he volunteered to do all the housework on Saturdays, making it appear to be a big sacrifice. Inside, he was doing the happy dance, as it gave him the opportunity to play Suzie Homemaker. Playing at being domestic - and dressing the part was his greatest joy in life now.
Sam used the weekends to do a thorough cleaning of the house.
It took years of hard work before the boutique managed to break even. Doing without a lot of luxuries like vacations, Sam’s income was enough to keep it afloat. Because it was open every Saturday, Sam spent the time being Samantha. As soon as Beth left, he would get his Samantha things out of his locked footlocker in his garage workroom.
One thing never changed, no matter how many times he did it. Nervous butterflies would always fill his belly as he headed to his wife’s closet to select something appropriate. Most days he would dress in drab outfits suitable for cleaning. Beth had numerous housedresses that reminded Sam of the time he would wear his mother's. One of the maids had even left a uniform there, so it became his dress of choice. Sometimes he wanted to feel pretty and would wear one of Beth’s better dresses which necessitated wearing an apron to keep things clean. He wanted to wear makeup but was concerned he would leave telltale signs behind and so, other than lipstick, he avoided anything more exotic. Then he would clean the house dressed as Suzie Homemaker. He would prepare dinner, change clothes and wait for Beth to arrive home, assured she was none the wiser.
Things were about to change.
@ @ @ @
It was Friday night. Sam dragged his weary ass into his darkened home. He threw his briefcase to the side and kicked off his shoes. Another boring week down. The only light in his life were Saturdays. The fact it was only a few short hours away gave him new life.
It was 6 o’clock. His wife wouldn’t be home from her store yet, so he would have to make dinner again, he was not a good cook, but it didn’t seem to matter, both he and Beth ate to live, they didn’t live to eat.
It hadn’t been like this when they were first married, only since she opened that fashionable little boutique in town. To Sam, that shop at first seemed like a gift from heaven but as time wore on, he wondered if the gift originated from someplace far darker.
Recently, the shop had gotten a writeup in the local paper. That seemed to jump start her business, which started to turn a real profit. However, Beth was forced to open early and stay later. Beth was so overworked that, at Sam’s suggestion, she hired a full-time shop assistant. The shop’s success that snowballed and led to even longer hours. From what Beth said, the lady she hired was close to the second coming. If she ever mentioned her name, Sam didn’t remember it. Since the mystery lady joined, Beth had been getting home later and later. The new assistant was a real fashionista and followed all the latest trends. Her presence attracted a new level of clientele and created greater profits.
Now that she was self-sufficient, Beth's personality seemed to change. She became more confident, almost commanding. It was like she was the husband and she became accustomed to being in charge at work, she carried that attitude over to their home life. She just assumed it was her right to make all the decisions concerning their home. Sam was doing the shopping, cooking and housework already. If she wanted the headaches of maintaining the house, he let her. He didn’t like to bicker, so he let the little slights slide. The one area he wouldn’t concede to her was the checkbook. Control of that he kept in his hands.
Beth kept getting home later and later, especially on Friday and Saturday nights, Sam had more opportunities to bring out his alternative personality Samantha for longer and longer periods of time without worry of being caught.
On Saturday mornings, Sam would give Beth a chance to drive to work and would head to his garage workroom. He would take the key hidden under his table saw and open Samantha’s trunk. His female trousseau was limited to a few items, just several cheap wigs, lipsticks and shoes. Since he wore the same size as Beth, he was inclined to use her things, woman clothes are so expensive. It just made fiscal sense to use what was available.
As strange as it sounded, wearing Beth’s garments made him feel closer to her. He didn’t want to actually be her, just be like her.
There were very few of her things - especially shoes - that didn’t fit Sam. He had his own selection of heels, the height varied with his mood, anywhere from two to five inches.
Most Saturdays, he would retreat to the master bedroom and select his outfit for the day from her walk-in closet. He would dress in something practical for doing housework, except for the high heels. A girl needed to feel pretty. In his mind, heels and bras and long hair were the true mark of femininity. He had a cheap long hair blonde wig that he wore most times. The one thing he refrained from was wearing makeup. The few times he had tried it, he came out looking clownish. He was also petrified he would miss something when taking it off. So, he settled with just a coat of lipstick, always the same shade of red he remembered his mother wearing.
His dressing was the perfect stress release for him, it was fun and didn’t hurt anyone. It was dinner time, he headed for the kitchen to find something simple to fix for their evening meal. His phone buzzed as he reached the refrigerator. ‘Honey, I won’t be home for dinner,’ Beth texted, ‘we had a big day, and we have to stay late to restock. Holly and I will grab something to eat after we are finished. It will be really late, don’t wait up for me.’
Sam made himself a sandwich and grabbed a beer and went to their bedroom to eat.
He undressed and took a quick shower always using his wife’s sweet-smelling shampoo. He dried off and threw himself on his twin bed and spread out. Three months ago, Beth had redecorated their bedroom and replaced the king bed with a pair of twins. He hasn’t slept with her since that day.
He fell into a deep sleep. He was surprised as he was awakened by Beth coming home. She wasn’t exactly stealthy, she banged into something in the living room that made a big crashing sound. Sam looked at the bedside clock and noticed it was almost one in the morning. Beth stumbled into the room. Beth had taken to wearing her long black hair pulled back and put into a tight bun. Tonight, she had let her hair down. It hung about her head in a disheveled manner.
Even from his bed, he could tell Beth reeked of booze. “You’re a little late.”
“I told you we were going to stop for a bite to eat. We didn’t feel like fast food, so we went to a little club Holly knew about. We had a few drinks with dinner. They tasted so good we had a few more after the meal.”
“Beth you’re drunk!”
“Nonsense, get off my case I’m just feeling really good.”
Sam pulled back his covers and patted the bed, "Come join me. I bet I can make you feel even better.”
Beth sneered, “I don’t think so. It’s late and I have a full day tomorrow. I just want to take a shower and go to bed.”
Sam was perturbed, “Beth, when is the last time we had sex?”
“Beats me. It’s not like it was so earth shattering that it was worth marking on the calendar. If you are feeling randy, take care of it by yourself like you always do. Now be a good boy and let me get some sleep.”
A disappointed Sam rolled over and went back to sleep, listening to Beth singing to herself in the shower. Sam shrugged it off and life went on. Two nights later, over dinner, Beth announced that she was closing the shop for a few days to attend a small business symposium in Las Vegas. She would be driving, taking off Thursday after work and not returning until Tuesday morning sometime.
Sam have heartedly asked if she would like him to go with her. They could turn it into a second honeymoon. She leapt to her feet and said, “Please Sam. It’s a business meeting not a vacation. There are symposiums during the day and social mixers at night to network with other small business woman.” Sam felt giddy all that time alone with no worries about Beth walking in on Samantha. He saw this as a golden opportunity to let Samantha shine, he had always dreamed about getting a professional makeover and now he had that opportunity.
The next day at work, Sam couldn’t contain himself as he used the company computer to check out local beauty parlors to see if they would work on men. He was paranoid someone would see what he was researching, so he cleared his browser history and watched the clock and counted the minutes until he could go home.
Beth wasn’t due home for several hours, so he sat down at his computer and conducted a number of goggle searches. He looked for someplace that specialized in turning men into believable looking women. Out of the list of several entries, he found the perfect place only an hour's drive away. It was a full-service transformation service in the next town.
His palms sweaty and his pulse racing, he booked himself a noon appointment for the Saturday after Beth would leave for her trip. He printed out their pamphlet and bookmarked the page. He continued to look until he also found the city’s most popular gay friendly bar that was in the same part of town as the service. His plan was to get a makeover then leave dressed as a woman to spend an evening at the club.
He put the pamphlet in his briefcase in a sealed bank envelope. The next day, he would sneak it out while he had a chance at work and would salivate over their before and after makeovers. He assumed there was a lot of photoshopping, he dreamed if they could even come close to those results in his case it would be worth the extravagant prices they were charging.
On that fateful Thursday morning, Beth woke in a surprisingly cheerful mood. Sam had been awake for hours, his anticipation was off the scale. He had been up and made Beth breakfast and filled her coffee travel mug. Beth skipped the bacon and eggs breakfast but grabbed the coffee, she waved goodbye to him, and reminded him she would be home Tuesday morning. As she was closing the door, she stuck her head back in and dropped a bombshell, “Honey, I need to get away and just take a break. After work today, I will be turning my phone off. So, I won’t be disturbed.”
He called after her, “How can I get in touch with you if there’s an emergency?” She had already closed the door, so Sam figured she hadn’t heard him.
He waited until normal business hours and phoned the transformation service and asked what he needed to bring and got driving and parking directions. He took the day off from work, his first non-sick day off in over a year.
He was so nervous he had trouble getting the key in the ignition. He put the address in his GPS and drove off. The hour drive seemed to take forever and no time at all at the same time. Once he arrived at the right street, he drove by the shop at slow speed to get a good look. He was driving so slow a car behind him honked its horn. He waved the impatient driver around him.
Turning around in the next block, parked briefly in front of the entrance to the shop. He didn’t have the courage to get out of the car and just sat there with his heart pounding. He looked around fretfully, worried that someone might be looking at him. Thankfully no one seemed to be paying any attention. He sped away as fast as he could. Once he was into the next block, he got control of his emotions and after three attempts managed to get the bar's address in his phone. Then he did a slow pass drive by of the bar, just to get the lay of the land. It was in the seedy part of town but did have its own parking lot with video surveillance.
@ @ @ @
Friday morning, he got up early and used an entire bottle of a high potency hair removal cream designed for men. On his entire body-everywhere. The package promised up to six weeks of hair free surface. He was delighted not to have to shave his face for weeks.
He put on his dress slacks, hating how the material feeling so coarse on his smooth skin. It was also uncomfortable for his little man and its two friends. The solution came to him, he went to his stash and brought out a new pair of black pantyhose. That made all the difference. Until his hair grew back, he might be spending lots of time with nylons under his male clothes, the thought bringing a smile to his face. How that would work with Beth he would worry about later. He was just going to concentrate on the feeling of wearing feminine items under his male clothes. He put on his dress shirt and had the same uncomfortableness he had with the pants, so he swapped out his cotton undershirt with a white silk camisole. The way it felt on his sensitive nipples was beyond delightful. He knew this was going to be the best few days of his life.
Since he and Beth slept and undressed separately, they were more like roommates than a married couple. There was no affection shown between them. No cuddles, no hand holding, no honeys, no please and thank you. They simply coexisted and tried to avoid doing anything to upset the other person.
He saw no problem in being able to hide his hairless body from his wife, except in the mornings when they were running late. Then they would dress hurriedly in the bedroom. It would be a thrill being hairless and naked only a few feet away. He would have to dress with his ass to her, since he had removed all his pubic hair. That would be impossible to explain away. He doubted she would even notice. She never looked at him anymore, not like when they were first married when she couldn’t get enough of him. Her sex drive threatened to overwhelm him at times. She just never wanted to quit.
That night, he took the opportunity to sleep in one of his wife’s nightgowns. Being hairless added a whole new dimension to the sleeping in a nightie. It felt deliciously naughty. He was excited sexually all night long. When he woke, he noticed during the night he had stained the nightgown with his precum. He threw it in the wash.
Saturday morning, he was up early. He knew the dress he was going to wear for Samantha’s night out. It was a dress Beth brought home from her shop when she had attended a classmate’s wedding. He loved this dress it was flirtatiously low cut in the bodice. Even with Beth’s modest B cup breasts, she wore a padded push up bra and it displayed her tits generously. It was a navy-blue sequin bodycon midi dress with a low-cut neckline. It was fitted to showcase the wearer's curvy figure. Beth wore it once and she had never looked more beautiful, her few extra pounds only added to her sexiness. She accessorized the dress with a pearl necklace and matching earrings. He was in lust with her that day. He wasn’t the only one, she had to fend off a host of men wanting to get to know her better. He was so worked up that night in the bedroom he brought his A game. He wasn’t normally into oral sex, that night he feasted on her lady parts. He didn’t stop until she said she was too sensitive to go on.
Damn he had hoped she would wear it again. That would bring a spark back to their relationship. He had hinted at wanting to see her in it again, sadly it was hidden in the back of her closet. It hadn’t seen the light of day in years.
He brought out the dress and hung it on the door he visualized how he will look and feel wearing the dress. The dress would showcase his large breast forms. The feel of silk panties on his privates behind the tight dress, the snugness of a bra enclosing his chest, the joy of wearing high heels, and the feel of long hair tickling his neck. The smell and taste of wearing lipstick. It would be bliss being a woman for one night.
He believed he would be as pretty as his wife was. He would become the woman he wished his wife would be. Sam will be dating Samantha it will be a monogamous one, Samantha would never cheat on Sam. Talk about dissociative identity, he was in love with himself. That would keep a shrink busy for years.
He packed a small travel bag, adding in his newest purchase, the set of DD forms still in their original boxes. He had them out once to check that they matched his skin tone. Satisfied that they were perfect, he reverently repacked them in their boxes. They went on the bottom then he padded around them with panties, nylons and a delicate looking black spaghetti strap camisole. Next came his bra, it was a push-up bra with an underwire, medium-light padding. Made with soft microfiber and a lace trim. Back straps can be made into X-back which is great for preventing slipping straps. Two-row, three columns back closure and adjustable straps made it ideal to handle the weight of the oversized forms.
For shoes, he was undecided. To complete the ensemble, the dress screamed for stilettos. He just happened to have a pair of high black stilettos. He knew they were the right shoes, but he had never worn them for more than a few minutes. He sighed; he wasn’t sure he was man enough to deal with them for an entire night. Reluctantly he picked up a lower pair. He paused, and threw in the stilettos as well, figuring a girl can never have too many options. As an almost afterthought, he threw in his favorite pair of Beth’s black sexy sheer lace hipster panties that were strong enough to hold his thing snugly tucked away. He also added a perfume spritzer containing his favorite fragrance White Shoulders because it has that unique smell of a spring flower garden in full bloom. Not only was it a light floral sent but it was the same perfume Beth used so any lingering smells would go unnoticed. Wearing it made him feel like a maiden in a field of wild flowers. Satisfied he had everything he would need, he folded his dress neatly and laid it on top before closing the case.
As he was ready to leave, Sam paused. His emotions were in a turmoil, caught somewhere between excitement and terror. Sam stood next to his bag trying to decide what he was going to do. Fulfill his life’s dream and walk out that door or chicken out. It would be easy to just empty the case and pretend this never happened. However, that option would mean he would always wonder what might have been. A regret he wasn’t sure he could live with.
Sam realized this chance may never come again. Every year he was getting older and less likely to be able to pass as a pretty woman. He made a life changing decision; this opportunity may never come again. He was going to make the leap and follow through with his plan. He was going to put his happiness in the technical abilities of the transformation salon. That decision made had a calming effect on his emotions. He was sure this was the right thing to do.
Now there was the dilemma, what to wear. Does he go in full out drag or just his normal male clothes? He finally decided on something in between.
After some consideration, he was so edgy he wanted something that was familiar. He put on an old house dress that reminded him of the ones he wore of his mothers and his blonde wig. Thinking back to his earliest times dressing always gave him a warm and fuzzy feeling. As an afterthought he put on an overcoat that covered up his dress but left his hairless legs on display. He slipped on a pair of woman’s black ballet square toe ballet flats.
@ @ @ @
He drove to the makeover studio. They had a parking lot on the side of the building and he parked the car in the slot reserved for ‘first time clients.’ He unloaded his bag and locked his car, his heart beating wildly. Like a turtle, he pulled his head down into the coat as far as it would go and he arranged the long wig to cover his exposed face. Nervously, he made his way to the front door, easily identified sitting under the neon sign, ‘Vickie’s Full-Service Transformation Studio.’ As he got to the door, he noticed a small lettered sign, ‘Where we turn ugly frogs into beautiful Princesses.’ That explained the corporate logo etched on the glass door of a frog and a Disney type princess.
He paused briefly thinking ‘I am finally going to do this.’ He pushed the door open and stepped into the studio, not sure what to expect.
He was met by a middle-aged woman dressed in a smart pants suit, that reminded him of Beth in her pre-boutique days. In a friendly voice, she said, “Hello, I’m Pattie, the duty manager. How may I help you?”
His eyes darted nervously around the room. Her commanding presence reminded him of his wife’s current demeanor and made him feel intimidated. Breathing a sigh of relief that he had made it to his Shangri-La, he said happily, “Yes, I am Sam Williams I have an appointment.”
Sam held his breath and really stressed the efficiency of his antiappeasement, he waited while Pattie checked her clipboard. In an excessively perky voice she exclaimed, “Oh yes, here you are. You have signed up for our deluxe package. What exactly are you hoping for?”
Sam looked down and took a deep breath for the first time, he studied the floor and decided to be totally honest. “Pattie, I have been dressing since I was a child. I am afraid that, at my best, I come out looking like a homeless bag lady. For once in my life I want to feel attractive. Can you make me look pretty?
Pattie said, “Get that coat and dress off so that I can see what we have to work with.” She walked over to Sam and took off his cheap wig and tossed it aside in disgust. She turned his head one way then the other. She examined him closely, “Honey, you have great skin and good bone structure, I can work with that.” Then she poked him in the tummy, “You have kept yourself in good shape just a little fat to hide. We have ways to handle that, you’ll love it when we’re done.
"Honey, we can do a lot better than pretty. Our goal is always to produce a centerfold. Now the question is what do you want us to do, just put you in different dresses and take pictures for your keepsake? We have a lot of fun things, everything from wedding dresses to Playboy bunny costumes.”
@ @ @ @
Sam stood there, stunned. “No, I brought my own dress, I want you to make me over. If I am good enough, I hoped to dress and go out as a woman to a club.”
Pattie nodded, “That’s right up our alley. We would be glad to help you dress if you wish, I am sure we have everything else you will need. Let me see your outfit.”
Sam opened his valise and handed it to her. Pulling out his dress she gushed over what she found, “My, this is truly divine, we will ensure your makeup compliments this outfit.” She then called out, “Sue I need you here.”
A young man dressed in a French Maid costume showed up and did a deep curtsey. “Yes, Miss Pattie what can I do for you?”
“Yes. Take this dress and get the wrinkles out of it.”
Pattie turned to Sam and commented, “That is one of our regulars. He comes in once a month and likes to be our maid for the day. He pays us for the privilege of working here. Can you believe that?”
The normally fiscally conservative Sam threw caution to the winds. With the nervousness of a bride on her wedding night he turned over the keys to his monetary future, handing Pattie his gold card. “Pattie, you have carte blanche. Do whatever it takes.”
“Certainly Sam, when you leave here your own mother won’t recognize you. That is my promise. From this time on, you will be Samantha.”
Pattie led Sam back into the depths of the shop, where he was stripped and led to a relaxing mud bath. Followed, in order, by a full body massage, then a facial. He was exfoliated, cleansed and moisturized; his clogged pores sucked clean. When he was finished, he was stripped naked and an attractive young lady had him stand still as she examined his body inch by inch, plucking any stray hairs he had missed. Then he was ushered into a sauna.
After 20 minutes, he felt like he had sweated off 10 pounds. He was roused from the calm of the sauna when he was pushed into a cold shower. The shock of the icy water took his breath away. When he tried to back out to escape, he was stopped by two firm hands on his back pushing him back into the ice bath. The frigid temperatures made his little man shrivel up like a snail pulling into its shell. From his perspective, it looked like it had completely disappeared.
Leaving the shower, he was given a pink robe and an 8-ounce glass of juice to drink. What they didn’t let on was the juice was laced with a powerful sedative, all part of the company’s plans to ensure Sam’s passive acquiescence. From past experience, the company found this reduced their man hours.
He finished the juice and, with nothing on underneath, he was led to the makeup center. He was so relaxed that he just sat there as a sexy woman got on her knees and worked on his nails, applying 10 long acrylic nails. The act of someone doing his nails made Sam so relaxed he dozed. For the next hour, he was in and out of full consciousness. The beautician was a true artisan she spent forever making him over to a beautiful looking woman. He was so relaxed he only flinched when they pierced his ears. He didn’t even react when they plucked his eyebrows, one hair at a time. He ended up with two pencil thin arched brows, that they then dyed dark brown.
They used smelling salts to bring him back. They had him sit up for his wig fitting. The wig was made of human hair and in a lovely shade of auburn with red highlights. It had been styled while his makeover was being done. It was ready to be pinned in place so it wouldn’t slip.
It had taken over four hours from the time Sam walked in the door, but Pattie announced Samantha was ready to meet her public. The smells permeating the salon caused Sam to feel a bit light-headed and very womanly. It reminded him of the times he would accompany his mother to get her hair done. Clouds of hair spray filled the room and the smell of the nail polish brought back memories of happier times when Beth would do her nails while they snuggled on the couch watching television.
Sam sat still, his head spinning. The lipstick felt smooth on his lips, sensual and erotic. His eyelashes felt heavy. He could see the mascara which he found exciting. Pattie stood in front of a mirror blocking it and asked, “Are you ready to meet the new you? If I may say so, we have never done a better job. The ugly duckling is now the beautiful swan.”
Sam wanted to see how he came out more than anything in his life but decided to postpone the grand reveal until he was dressed. In the past, dressing gave him such a high that the professional makeover was just the icing on the cake. He was giddy with excitement. But thought he would postpone the grand reveal. So, he said. “No, I want to wait until the whole transformation is complete. Can you help me get dressed, pretty please?”
@ @ @ @
A tall, stately woman walked in. She wasn't pretty and she was taller than Sam. Her height was intimidating and it seemed to give her an air of authority. Sam had the impression that she could see through him, seeing a softness of his character that he normally tried to hide in order to protect his male persona.
"My name is Helen," she said as she glowered down at him. "I'm going to be your guide and help you through the process."
She took his robe and led him to a large private room. She looked at his naked form and shook her head but said nothing. She merely ushered him toward a pile of feminine finery displayed on a nearby table. A pair of attractive assistants followed them into the room, seemingly without a care in the world and made Sam rather self-conscious about his nudity.
The two young women were dressed identically in loose-fitting pink polo shirts and high- waisted textured plaid pencil skirts. Their shirts displayed the corporate logo of a frog and princess over the left breast.
"This is Miss Phoebe and Miss Henrietta," Helen said, indicating each girl. "They will help you dress."
Sam nodded to each girl as they were introduced, uncomfortable being naked around two young ladies. Their expressions reminded him of a pair of Labrador puppies. He was glad he was able to remain flaccid during this time and not embarrassing himself with an erection. He did not realize it at the time, but the drink he had been given earlier was making sure that they were able to help him dress without his male anatomy getting in the way.
Phoebe handed Sam his panties, congratulating him on his choice of sexy underwear. He found discussing panties while naked to be embarrassing. The girls turned their backs to give him the semblance of privacy. While he was occupied the two co-eds were chatting among themselves just loud enough for Sam to overhear. Apparently, this was a part time gig for them both to help pay for college.
Sam tucked himself firmly away out of trouble, glad that his exposure to the cold water relaxed his member adequately. Once he was finished, he politely coughed and announced he had them on.
For the rest of the dressing session, Sam didn't say a single word. He simply obeyed these two assertive girls. When they said sit, he sat when they said stand, he stood. They were polite enough to not comment upon his physical endowments, but there were some looks exchanged between them.
Then things got serious. Sam was given a chair to sit in. The two ladies each took one of the back seamed nylons with a Cuban heel and rolled them into a donut. They each took a foot as they slipped the stocking over his foot, ensuring the heels were lined up properly then they pulled them up to his knees. They slide easily on his freshly shave legs. The two paused briefly to get a new grip. Sam was happy at this point that he was firmly tucked as his man was finally starting to respond to the erotic sensations he was experiencing. The beige sheer thigh-high lace top stay-up hosiery was inched sensuously up his thighs until they were in place.
Without asking, they had retrieved his black 5’’stilettos and they slipped them onto his feet. He was told to stand and they helped him to his feet. He was unsteady, his legs shaking from the adrenalin pumping throughout his body. The shoes cramped his toes and ensured his feet were pointed and arched.
When Sam complained that the shoes were too small, he was told, “No dear, those are the proper size. You're about to find out that being a girl might not be as much fun as you thought!"
He wanted to argue but changed his mind when he looked down and saw they give his legs some amazing definition.
Next came the item he dreaded most, the accursed corset. Watching as Phoebe dug it out of the lingerie pile, Sam’s mouth suddenly became as dry as the Mohave desert. To him, it looked like it was something left over from the Spanish Inquisition. Phoebe gleefully promised it would take five inches off his waist. Wrapping it around her client and securing the front snaps, it was snug already.
Helen stepped back into the room, whether it was to help or as a chaperone Sam wasn’t sure. Helen and the other two aides worked as team to close the corset to its fullest. By the time they tied off the laces all three ladies were out of breath. Sam was no better. As advertised, it gave him an impossibly slim waist. He was light-headed as he reached out with one hand to steady himself against the wall.
Sam strained to catch his breath, but try as he could, it only came out in short gasps. The corset prevented any slouching or bending over. Helen watched with a bored expression; it wasn’t her first rodeo. She had been through this with countless other men. Helen stood back and had Sam turn for her, she put a finger under her chin and watched. She stood back and examined her creation like an artist looking over her latest painting.
She said, “We need something more. Wait here.”
Like he was going anywhere in just panties, a corset, stockings and impossibly tall heels.
Helen returned with two boxes. The first held stick-on silicone hip pads. She pulled out the side of his underwear and stuck them to his hips. The other box had pads to enhance Sam’s derrière.
Once they were in place, they added a good six inches to his waist and hips. At Helen’s insistence, he strolled around the room to ensure they weren’t going to fall off. Being silicone and firmly attached, they moved and jiggled like real flesh. It was silly, but Sam worried his butt was too big.
As he strolled around, his muscle memory kicked in from all the hours he had spent in heels. He was unsteady for the first few steps, but he was soon able to walk with slow and careful steps, as both girls were advising him to shorten his stride and keep his feel close to each other. He walked heel to toe and kept one foot in front of the other. Strutting like that caused his gluteus maximus to contract and release. That set the new ‘flesh’ on his posterior undulating suggestively. Helen was more than delighted with the effect, as she thought ‘Those are really expensive, but I challenge anyone from telling them from the real thing.’
He was next handed his bra. Helen offered to help him put it on. Sam tried to conceal the trembling of his voice as he thanked her and said he could handle this by himself.
He took the delicate bra in his slightly trembling hands. Reaching backwards from pure muscle memory he easily fastened his brassiere around his chest. Once he had it secured Helen slipped his DD breast forms into the cups, then adjusted the straps. Sam was nearly trembling from excitement as he stood up straight and knew he had never felt so womanly. When he moved, they seemed unusually animated. Their big dark nipples and areolae were evident through the thin fabric of his bra.
There is a time and place to show off the goods and to Sam this was just such a time. The weight of the forms pulled down on the bra straps. Sam relished the feeling. He eagerly looked down to see what his chest looked like. He saw a canyon of cleavage, it so deep that it would conceal a small kitten. From Sam’s perspective, it looked like the cleavage was near pornographic dimensions. His pushup bra separated and deliciously lifted two melons of womanly flesh. He wondered briefly if he hadn’t made a mistake selecting forms so large.
The heavy breasts threw off his center of balance, and he was forced to push his shoulders back to compensate, which appeared to thrust the breasts out even further. Now when he walked, he had a counter balance to his bodacious booty. Sam was forced to change his walk to control his breasts. When he did walk to compensate to cut down on his breast jiggling, the more his butt quivered.
At this point, there was not an iota of testosterone in the building. Sam felt as if he was a complete female. His only regret was that his shape was artificial. He could only dream how much pleasure he would get if his breasts and nipples had nerve endings.
Helen held out his dress. This was Sam’s favorite of all of Beth’s dresses. In his opinion, it was a magical number, a dress that needed to be worn. It boasted a stretchy black mesh and matching black sequins that travel throughout the delinquent cut low neckline, three-quarter sleeves, and bodycon bodice. The skirt had a scalloped hem and a hidden back zipper. He knew he would have a hell of a time unzipping the skirt when his night as Cinderella was over. Sam stepped into it and held his hair out of the way while Helen zipped up his dress.
In Sam’s opinion, the outfit was suitable for the Samantha persona that he wished to imitate.
Helen was a professional, but even she marveled that the lovely creature before her was a really a man. She looked pleased and commented. "It fits you perfectly."
She took a few steps back to take in the whole picture. His makeup was picture-perfect, the wig color and style were incredibly flattering for the shape of his face. Then there was that dress. With just a pang of jealously, she admired the way he looked in it, feminine without being over the top. It couldn’t have fit any better if it had been tailored for him. It narrowed at the waist and clung to his silicon enhanced curves.
As he was ready to leave, Helen handed him a small black patent leather purse, he dangled it from his shoulder, she commented, “Honey, that dress looks like it was made for you. It accentuates all your womanly curves.” He thanked her and walked out to find a mirror.
As he walked out, Helen was flummoxed at what her crew had achieved. She caught up with Samantha and escorted him to a floor length mirror, so her client could finally see the finished product. Helen passed him off to Pattie who had had him pose in front of the full-length mirror.
He kept his eyes down cast, he couldn’t see past his boobs. He took a deep breath, almost afraid to see his appearance. He summoned up all his nerve and looked up. The vision before him made him stagger and he took a step back to catch his wits. The man in clumsy drag that had entered five hours earlier had been eradicated, and in his place stood a stunningly beautiful young woman who looked to be in her late thirties.
His eyes started at the top and scanned down. The staff made the decision that his complexion called for a shoulder length auburn wig with red highlights. His only concern was the thinness of his eyebrows. He thought he could wear his old thick rim eyeglasses that might cover his brows.
He reached up to feel his new earrings. Come Tuesday, he could take out the huge sparkly cubic zirconia studs in his ears. He hoped that the holes would not stand out. To his utter astonishment he noted his hands for the first time. He no longer had fingernails, there were ten bright red shiny talons in their place.
The human hair wig was eons sexier than the cheap one he'd worn into the shop. Its auburn color and red highlights hung in sultry waves that fell sexily about his face where it was styled into a sexy Marilyn Monroe flip that settled just above his shoulders.
Sam scrutinized his face searching for any flaws that might give away his true gender. He couldn’t find anything. They even hid his less than predominate Adam’s apple with a strategically placed rhinestone choker. He flashed a brilliant grin that was framed by two impossibly full lips that were stained in a dark red, almost burgundy, color. He beheld himself in the mirror with the glamorously overdone makeup. Sam twisted and turned as he coyly checked out his voluptuous figure in his sexy getup.
He apprehensively fluttered his long eyelashes and gingerly touched his plumped-up and glossy crimson lips with one of his long-manicured fingernails.
He turned to Pattie with a pout and questioned, “What happened to my lips?"
Pattie with a great deal of pride replied, “I know, they look spectacular. We are having a special on lip injections. You said we had carte blanche and not to hold back, so we plumped them up to the maximum.”
“But I didn’t feel a thing.”
She laughed. “You seemed a little uptight, so we spiked your juice with a mild sedative. In addition, we coated your lips with a topical anesthetic that numbed your lips. You never reacted as the needle went in. As far as we could tell, you didn’t feel anything during the injections. In my opinion, this method is even better than the older collagen injections although the effect doesn’t last as long.
“We used the same topical anesthetic when we pierced your ears and shaped your eyebrows. Helen was able pluck them to a fine line and you never even flinched. The same was true when we did your Botox treatment. It took 10 years off your look.”
Sam was staggered by what he heard. “What am I going to do when I have to be a man on Tuesday?”
“I'm sorry, but you never mentioned a time line. Your lips will return to a more normal look in a couple weeks. I'm afraid that is the best we can offer.”
He simply shrugged his shoulders. Still in a state of shock, he tried to rationalize a way out of this mess.
"I can wear my old clunky eyeglasses; the frames may hide the brows. The holes in my ears will probably not be noticed once the earrings are removed and the hair will eventually grow back on my legs and arms. I can wear long sleeve shirts until then.
"But my lips will be impossible to hide. I suppose I could claim that I was hit the mouth and there was some swelling."
Pattie met his eye in the mirror. "We have had this kind of issue in the past. Just tell people that you experienced some kind of allergic reaction to something you ate or drank. Tell them that the swelling looks worse than it really is and that it will reduce itself in a few weeks. It works all of the time." She smiled reassuringly. Most of her job at this point was getting the client to relax and accept their transformation.
That settled, he looked down at the prosthetics that he thought were pretty amazing. He liked the way the huge boobs tented out the front of his dress and the distracting way the weight of them pulled on his chest. Even the hip and butt prosthetics were kind of cool in combination with the constricting corset, giving him womanly curves and a big round hips and booty. The corset laced tightly about his midsection did wonders for his figure but was uncomfortably cutting into his midsection.
He decided the discomfort of the corset was worth it, as it was very effective in giving him the impression of a wasp waist. All the world could see is a slender waisted woman with an amazing set of legs that were perched on a pair of strappy stiletto heels.
Sam realized that the vision in the looking glass could turn the head of any red-blooded man who saw her. Perhaps most striking of all was Sam's makeup. He had feared he would get a ridiculously over-the-top look just short of being totally gaudy. However, instead of being tawdry and clownish as he feared, the artfully applied cosmetics gave Sam an aggressively sexy, femininity that transformed his every blink and gesture into a seductive come-on.
Her alluring tresses would beckon men like a temptress. He at his reflection looked in disbelief, they hadn't missed a single detail. His beautiful auburn cascade of hair, his overlong painted fingernails, the sprinkling earrings and showy jewelry. Eyebrows had been plucked almost to extinction leaving only a thin line that was shaped into quizzical little lines. Then his eyes were drawn to his man magnets, two titanic titties with their oversize nipples that were evident as they poked out visibly and prominently, from his skin tight dress. Then he assessed his trim waist and wide feminine hips. It was his dream come true.
The frock clung to Sam's curves incredibly snugly and showed off every inch of his female curves, and the sight of his big round hips and abundant rear end alongside his corseted nipped-in waist gave him an eye-popping figure. The dress came down to his knees, it was so tight the dress hobbled Sam's legs together as it practically bound him at his knees. Between that and his strappy stiletto heels, Sam wondered how he would even be able to walk. He wobbled at first but after a while his muscle memory kicked in again and he felt more comfortable.
@ @ @ @
Helen caught up with Samantha announcing, “Yes dear, you are quite convincing, but you have a very long way to go in order to be more naturally feminine. That will take time.”
She then put him through a 45-minute crash course in feminine deportment.
He walked to the cash register, his high heels making staccato clicks on the hardwood floors of the foyer. Helen stood back and watched her newly minted feminine creation mince his way around on heels so tall and thin, Helen would be afraid to wear them.
He paid the bill without even looking at the total. He took one last look in the mirror. There was no trace of the man that walked in this afternoon at all. He didn't look much like a centerfold, but his appearance was close enough he was delighted at the finished product. He looked good. He could barely recognize himself. Instead, he saw an intelligent, wide-eyed woman peering back. A bit square-jawed, perhaps, with a nose a touch too large, but the makeup softened both of those. Before Sam could turn for the door, the cashier looked up as said, “Ms. Williams you ordered the deluxe package. Please come with me."
She stepped around the counter and led Sam to what looked like a closet. “Please step in and close your eyes and hold your breath, this will just take a few seconds.”
Once Sam was inside, the girl closed the door and pushed a button on the wall. Inside the closet, Sam found himself enveloped in a thick cloud of expensive French perfume that infused every pore of his skin and the very fiber of his clothes. Then she opened the door and led him to the exit.
He stopped abruptly and turned and pointed to his wig, “How and when do I return your things?”
“Honey you should have looked more closely at your bill. You now own everything you have on. The wig, corset, stockings and hip pads are top of the line and rather costly, and all yours. Enjoy your night.”
The image in the glass door staring back at him was undeniably all woman. He sashayed his way to his car, feeling like a pretty woman. He had a very difficult time opening the clasp on his purse because of his long nails. He used them like chopsticks to fish out the car keys. He sat in the seat and swung his legs in like a lady. He closed the car door and experienced an overpowering floral scent. He was inundated in a cloud of girlishly flowery perfume. He walked to his car, his female impersonation was a long way from perfect, but he tried to move in an enticingly feminine fashion that was as close to a runway model as he could. Sam left the store feeling his inner woman had finally blossomed.
He put the keys in the ignition and was ready to start the car when his phone rang. He almost jumped out of his skin in shock. He looked at caller ID and saw that it was Beth. He was in no mood for an argument and let it go to voicemail. He waited a few minutes to get his heart beat down.
He dialed into his voicemail and heard, “Honey, I have been concerned about the way I left things last Friday. I said some terrible things I didn’t mean. You were right. I was drunk. I had a ball that night and thought you were being judgmental. It was the first time I had been drunk since I was in college. I really let my hair down, I drank, danced and flirted. I felt 21 again. It was one of the best nights of my life. I wasn’t ready for you to rain on my parade. The bottom line is I needed this time away to get a new perspective on life. When I get home, I would like nothing better than to spend a night making mad passionate love to you. Please forget what I said. I do love you.”
Sam was thrown. With all that had been done to him. There was no way to explain it all away. He would either have to put off the intimacy or come clean on his dressing.
But It was a decision he wasn’t ready to make at the moment. He was going to enjoy his night and cross that bridge in the light of day. Now he was ready to party.
@ @ @ @
Driving with the high heels was more difficult than Sam thought, but he managed it. He pulled into the bar’s parking lot, which was mostly empty at this early hour.
He wasn’t keen to move but, eventually, took a little breath and reached for the door handle. The walk to the front door was short, but it seemed like a hundred miles to Sam as he stepped unsteadily in his feminine footwear. Nervously, he looked around thinking he might be spotted by someone he knew, and as he approached the front door a more horrible thought entered his head. There might be someone in the gay bar that knew him. He threw his shoulders back and forced his head up and strode as the best he could in his stiletto heels and tried to project an air of confidence that he didn't entirely feel.
He opened the door and cautiously stepped in not knowing what to expect, his religious background told him it would be a den of iniquity. If that was what he found what did that say about him? It wasn’t until later he discovered gay men aren’t normally attracted to effeminate guys. In drag, it was unlikely he would be approached by a gay man.
What he saw as he walked in was nothing like he feared. There was no lewd behavior or obvious drug use. There were couples sitting at tables socializing and a few couples dancing. Granted, most the couples were same sex, but it could have been any bar anywhere. He made his way to a bar stool, thinking he could keep his back to the club.
Getting up on the stool was easier said than done. Between the heels and skirt, he couldn’t figure out a way to get his caboose on the stool. He finally moved the stool as close to the bar he could and put both hands on the bar and used his strength to lift his body up high enough to land his padded fanny firmly on the stool.
Samantha perched himself on a barstool in front of the large bar mirror, a position from which he could inconspicuously watch the action behind him. Delighted he had made it, he sat at the bar and looked at the large mirror on the bar wall and saw his reflection in the mirror. He lightly shook his head side to side to make his hair fall more naturally about his face. Sam saw Samantha and thought, ‘I am beautiful!’ He relaxed and enjoyed what he was seeing. He sat and just looked, turning his head from side to side, admiring himself from all angles. He pursed my lips, gave himself little kisses, he smiled then smoothed his dress over his body, and fluffed his hair. Then used his makeup mirror to touch-up his lipstick. That was so much fun he powdered his nose.
His bout of narcissism was interrupted when the bartender came over, “Hi. I’m Fred what should I call you?”
Sam briefly thought about trying to disguise his voice, but knew that would be a total disaster so in his normal voice, he said with a little warble in his voice, “Glad to meet you Fred, you can call me Sam.”
“Excuse me miss, you don’t look like a Sam to me,” Fred smiled.
Flustered, Sam furrowed his brow, he reached up and patted a loose strand of hair back in place. With his lips twisted in a smile he got out, “Actually tonight, I am Samantha, but Sam is acceptable. Whatever you’d rather.”
Fred smiled at him. “Okay, Sam it is. Miss, what can I get for you?”
He really wanted a cold beer but thought that was inappropriate for Samantha. He ordered what he thought was appropriate, a martini garnished with an olive. He had never had a martini before and sipped it cautiously. He wasn’t crazy about the taste but, on an empty stomach, it immediately did its job. By the third sip, he was starting to feel the alcohol. It did not help that he had not eaten anything in the past few hours either. The warm glow of alcohol enveloped Sam. He relaxed and sat there enjoying his night out as Samantha.
After about 15 minutes, a man in a Brooks Brothers suit sauntered up to Sam, “Hey gorgeous, will you join me at my table? I’ll buy you a drink.”
Sam replied, using a voice as soft as he could get it answered, “No thanks I have one already.” The suit walked away looking for someone else to chat up. Sam felt a rush at a man trying to pick him up.
Fred turned to Sam, “That was a good decision. He is a known tranny chaser; I advise you to avoid him.”
Sam thanked him for his advice, the fact the guy thought he was a tranny rather than real woman was a letdown.
Sam sat there and enjoyed watching the show behind him. As time wore on, more couples came in than singles. It was a friendly crew; the music was a tad loud for Sam’s taste. But it was a lively place. More and more couples joined the crowd on the dance floor. He was asked by two men and a woman to dance and he politely turned them all down.
@ @ @ @
He was on his third martini when the door opened and Sam felt a cold draft.
The door opened wide and Sam casually glanced toward the door. He only caught a glimpse of the woman who walked in that sent Sam’s heart into palpitations. He couldn’t be sure, but the first impression was the woman was a dead ringer for his wife. Sam's eyes went almost cartoonishly wide. Sam shook his head to clear it. He scrutinized the woman’s reflection in the mirror and it became clear from her body language that this was in actuality his wife.
He ashen pallor was obvious even underneath all the makeup he was wearing, but no one was looking at the moment. Beth looked stunning. Normally she favored conservative outfits that tended to obscure her figure not emphasize it. Nothing like what she was currently wearing. She was dressed in a sexy little off-the-shoulder black minidress with her long dark hair styled loosely about her shoulders. Her makeup was more dramatic than he had ever seen before. It was more appropriate for dancing at a rave rather than what she usually wore daily and her eyes were dark and beautifully defined; she was even wearing long dark false lashes. Sam’s first thought was she had somehow followed him here and was going to publicly confront him. That thought was shattered when Sam saw the woman behind Beth who put her arm around her shoulders possessively.
The sight of his wife in a gay bar - accompanied by another woman - made him feel physically ill. Was his entire marriage nothing but a sham? Sam gritted his teeth and attempted to ball his hands into fists only to be stymied as his long fingernails bit into his palms. Then he blinked twice and took a deep breath as he tried to get his emotions under control. A queasy feeling and a shiver gripped him as a thin film of sweat crossed his forehead.
Sam took advantage of the fact that Beth was preoccupied with her partner to get a close examination of her partner's voluptuous body in the mirror. She had blonde hair that was cut to shoulder length. She had a pretty face with an upturned nose. Her white scooped neckline blouse was made of a shiny material that was so thin that even in the mirror and at 30 feet he could almost make out the pink color of her nipples crowning the large globes of her breasts. Sam noticed that they had jiggled slightly as she walked in, implying she wasn’t wearing a brassiere. Sam’s little man shifted in its silken confines, but stayed trapped.
Sam’s eyes widened and his heart pounded in his chest when he managed to tear his eyes away from the woman to her companion. It took a moment for his brain to confirm that he had seen what he thought he’d seen. It was in fact his wife Beth dressed in a red low cut minidress that reached just above her knees and she was wearing matching colored stilettos. That had to be five inches tall. Her black hair was piled high on her head. Her makeup was heavy and dramatic.
He watched in shock as his wife leaned down and tentatively kissed her date’s full lips. In response, the woman being kissed reached her hands around Beth’s waist. The two held the kiss long enough to draw the attention of the other patrons. It was obvious these two were more than casual acquaintances. The blonde’s hands slowly moved down to cup Beth’s round bottom. Beth's B cup breasts were no match for her date’s unfettered D cups.
Sam's pulse was pounding in his ears. His penis strained against the gusset of his panties as he realized that this blonde beauty was seducing his wife right here in public. Not just any woman this was centerfold material. His wife who was so prim and proper she wouldn’t even hold hands in public before they were engaged. And here she was in a gay bar acting like a total slut.
As they moved as a couple further into the club, Beth gave the woman a dazzling smile and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. Watching his wife come on to her date, his insides were roiling with a sea of turbulent emotions--anger, fear, and disgust. Rather than find a table, Beth led her friend right to the dance floor. Beth threw her arms around her friend’s neck and pulled them together in an intimate embrace. Her date’s hands went to cup Beth’s buttocks and she pulled so hard it almost lifted Beth off her feet. Then they locked lips in a sizzling kiss as they swayed to the music. Sam sighed as he realized that there went his last hope that they were merely two women in a platonic relationship.
He watched his wife and her floozie swinging their bodies energetically on the dance floor. Sam was shaking as tears started to run down his face. My wife is a lesbian. He blinked away tears and after he wiped his face, he saw a dark streak on his hand from his eye makeup that had started to run. He breathed a heavy sigh and tried to ignore the foreign sensations that resulted from his boobs bouncing on his chest.
Fred was watching, and casually suggested he fix his makeup. Sam blinked indistinctly in the direction of the bartender’s voice and was caught off guard by the curtain of hairs that swept across his face. That was bad enough it even got worse when he went to brush it away and poked himself in the cheek with the long feminine nail.
As he shifted on the stool, he thought he was sitting on a pillow when he realized that the hip and butt prosthetics were still there.
Sam opened his purse and took out the compact with its mirror and did what he could. He remained anchored on his bar stool and nursed his martini, doing his best to avoid drawing attention to himself as he watched his wife’s action intently. It was a side of her he had never seen. Once or twice, he thought he made eye contact with Beth as she looked over at the bar.
He noticed as Beth and her friend stood off by a window and got into an animated discussion. If it was a fight, they quickly made up as Beth sat in a chair and pulled the busty blond down onto her lap and they necked like two horny teenagers.
He wanted to get up and confront his wife about her infidelity. Then looking at his reflection, he envisioned that ending very badly. All he could do was sit there. Terrified of being discovered and drawing attention, he focused all of his mental resources on not jumping out of his skin and desperately trying to maintain the most feminine body language and presentation that he possibly could.
Over the course of the evening, several ladies made their way to the bar to order drinks and tried what he imagined were pickup lines on him, but he simply ignored them. Around the time of his fifth martini, another woman came and stood next to him and wouldn’t take the hint. She put her hand on his shoulder and forced Sam to face her.
She got right in his face and said, "Hi. I'm Mary." She paused for a moment before continuing, “Do you come here often? I haven’t noticed you before.”
Sam was paranoid that his voice would give him away despite the significant ambient noise the din of talk and music blaring, so he just responded with a dismissive little shrug. The girl tried for a bit to make small talk, but Sam's quietness and one-word answers eventually shut her down, and she gave him a bit of a dirty look as she returned to her seat.
At first, Sam was a bit put off that she didn't simply assume that he was shy, but then he realized that "shy" was not a word that anyone would ever use to describe someone who looked like he did. Instead, the other girls seemed to conclude that he was being snobby and stuck-up. That hurt his feelings a little, but then he reminded himself that he really wasn't there to make friends.
@ @ @ @
Sam had been there over four hours and had consumed way too many martinis. He had felt the need to pee a long time ago. Finally, he couldn’t hold it in any longer. If he waited, he was going to pee his panties. He clumsily clambered off his stool, landing unsteadily on his feet.
Trying to maintain a low profile was impossible. The sound of his heels clicking on the tiled floor sounded loud and clear over the music and other background sounds. He paused when he rounded the corner. There were three doors - ‘gents’, ‘gals’ and ‘whatever’. Sam debated and finally went in the third door.
He walked in and closed the door, on one wall were two pink porcelain urinals alongside a tampon dispenser. Sam stopped in front of one. He pulled his dress up and tried to fish his little man out of its hiding place. He grimaced as his long nails poked his jewels painfully. He gritted his teeth and managed to get his thing out. He did his business, then washed his hands, touched up his lipstick and made his way back to his seat.
Sam had lost sight of his wife as he clambered back to his stool. He had just got comfortable when he felt someone standing next to him. She ordered two gin and tonics. As Fred went off to make the drinks, Sam glanced up and saw it was Beth standing there. He thought he was having a stroke; his heart went out of rhythm and he felt he was going to fall off the stool.
She put her hand casually on Sam’s shoulder. She leaned in close to be heard over the music, “I have been watching you tonight. I love your dress. I have one exactly like it. Mine is home hidden in the closet.”
Her hand softly stroked his back tracing the outline of his bra straps.
She went on, “Of course I don’t fill it out as well as you do.”
Fred brought over her drinks. She said, “Thanks Fred. Add these to my tab. Would you have a pen I can use?”
Fred reached into his pocket and handed her a pen. Beth took a napkin and scribbled something on it. She slid it over in front of Sam and said “Here is my phone number, give me a call sometime. I really think you’re hot. I bet we would make a great couple.”
@ @ @ @
When Beth left with her two drinks, Fred came over and said, “Sam, that lady really has the hots for you.”
He glanced up at Fred through his long fake eyelashes and then looked away and pursed his lips. “That Fred was no lady, that is my wife.”
The look on Fred's face was priceless. As a bartender, he had heard a lot of strange stories, but this was a topper. “You're shitting me! Here have another drink, this one is on the house.”
Sam waved the drink away, common sense filtering through the alcohol.
“No, I'm serious. It seems my wife is a lesbian.”
“Sam, don’t jump to any conclusions. What makes you so sure your wife’s companion has girly bits between her legs? I have seen stranger things working here.”
“Oh great, Fred. My wife is cheating on me with a woman or the prettiest transvestite around.
@ @ @ @
Beth carried the drinks back to their table and handed Holly, her employee and date, her drink.
Holly glared at Beth, “Beth you know how insanely jealous I get. We only recently became an item. Tonight, is going to be the first time we can be intimate and not have to worry about your dud of a husband. I am so turned on my pussy is throbbing. I would hate to think you are ready to trade me in for a newer model before I can show you what real pleasure is all about?
"Why did you ever marry that wanker? He doesn’t sound like much of a man. Didn’t you tell me his is doing all the housework?”
Beth shrugged. “Yes, that is his roll. some people are meant to be mothers and homemakers and some of those people happen to be men. Sam just happens to be one.
“Our sex life was really good at first. It all changed when I was no longer financially dependent on his generosity. I guess his male ego couldn’t handle my independence. After that sex, was almost an ordeal. Neither of us tried and we just went through the motions. He stopped asking and I never volunteered. Our passion just died out.”
Holly nodded, judgmentally. "I see." She left it there. “I’ll see if I can’t ignite the spark of passion in you. Who was that skank you were visiting with at the bar?”
Beth put her hand over Holly's. “Relax honey, I am looking forward to tonight as much as you are. I really don’t know who she is, she just looked familiar. I can’t place where I have seen her before, but give me time it will come to me.”
Holly stared at the woman perched on the bar stool and commented, “If I had ever met someone with a figure like that, I wouldn’t forget her.”
Holly pulled Beth to her lap and pulled her in close, and teasingly said “Now where we?”
She pulled Beth’s head so their lips melded into a toe-curling kiss.”
@ @ @ @
Back at the bar, the boys were oblivious to the drama going on at the other side of the club.
“Hey Sam, don’t underestimate your presentation. I am just being a male chauvinist pig here. You are a walking, jiggling, cliché of the male sex fantasy of a woman.”
Sam blushed and peered up at Fred through the hairs of his wig and glanced away.
“Fred, be serious look at that creature. She is gorgeous. No way that is a man!”
Fred turned to Sam and looked him over and looked at Sam like he was sizing up a perspective date. He gave his honest opinion, “Sam, she is pretty, but so are you.”
“Right until I open my mouth.”
Fred smiled. “Sam have you heard your wife’s friend speak? Only Beth will know the truth.
You know what they say, there is a little woman hidden in every man.”
@ @ @ @
Sam thought that over for a brief moment. “Fred, if that is a man, it only makes Beth’s betrayal worse. I have no idea what to do now. Do I go home and pretend tonight never happened?”
Fred gave that some thought, then said, “What if she knows who Samantha really is? Maybe she showed up here with a friend to make you suffer for hiding Samantha.”
“Just how would she know I was here?”
“Sam, how did you get here tonight?”
“I drove my car.”
“And where is that car now?”
“It’s in your parking lot.”
“Tell me do I confront her on her infidelity?”
Fred looked at him and smiled. “How do you suppose you can claim the moral high ground? It seems to me you are caught on the horns of a dilemma.”
Sam sighed, “Boy, aren’t you an expert at giving advice?”
Fred smiled, “Well it is in my job description.”
“Then please help me. Tell me what do I do now?”
“Well you could hire a detective to follow Beth. Or you could be honest and tell her all about Samantha and see what happens.”
In response to Sam’s groan, Fred continued, “there is the third option. Work on your voice and call that number and go on a date as Samantha.”
Sam scrunched up his face and replied, “Come on Fred. There has to be something I can do that won’t end in divorce or disgrace.”
@ @ @ @
Fred took a deep breath, he turned to the readers and asked, “How would you like to see this story go? There are almost unlimited plot lines that can spin off from here.”
Please help me to finish this story, either leave your thoughts in the comment section or email me at [email protected]
Thanks
WHAT DO I DO NOW? PART 2
@ @ @ @
Sam had a night he would never forget, a lifelong transvestite he had taken advantage of his wife’s supposed absence to venture out for the first time dressed as his alter-ego Samantha. He was in a gay bar enjoying himself when in walked his wife in the arms of what appeared to be her girlfriend. Devastated at finding out his wife was a lesbian. He took to drinking to help deal with the reality of the situation.
SAM’s story.
He slid off his stool and stumbled toward the door.
Fred the bartender barked after him, “Missy just where do you think you’re going?”
“Home to sleep it off!” Sam's words were only slightly slurred.
“How do you plan on getting there?”
“I’m going to drive.” His expression as he looked back at Fred said that he thought that it was a dumb question.
Fred rushed out from behind the bar heading to his drunken customer, to stop him from doing something stupid. “Not on my watch you aren’t. You will either kill yourself or somebody else. Samantha, you’re in no shape to drive. I have a small apartment over the bar. I’ll take you up to my pad and you can crash with me for the night. I won’t charge you.”
Seeing the nervousness in her eyes he told her, “In the morning, once you have sobered up, you can drive home.”
Sam thought briefly, replying, “Thanks Fred. That is the best offer I have had in a long time. But I’m not ready to pay the price that free night might cost me.”
A disappointed Fred responded, “In that case, sit back down. I’ll get you a cup of coffee and call you a cab.”
“But my car is here!”
Fred smiled. Sam's arguments were all ones that he had heard many times before and he had a ready answer. “No problem. There’s a motel only three blocks from here. It’s nothing fancy but it’s clean. You can sleep it off and call a cab or walk back in the morning to retrieve your car.”
Sam decided to give in. He didn’t have it in him to fight. At the moment, he wasn’t even sure he could make it to his car. He swayed and wobbled uncertainty, clinging tenaciously to Fred's supportive hands. Thankfully, the close proximity of the bar was within easy reach. He let go of Fred and was able to grasp it to remain standing. His coordination deserted him. Climbing back up to the chair was out of the question, so he kept one hand on the bar for support and stood as he waited for his ride.”
As he glanced around the bar, his attention was drawn back to his wife and her friend. Out of the crowd he watched two other attractive women join his wife and her friend. Beth and her friend jumped to their feet; it was like these newcomers were expected. The foursome greeted each other with hugs and kisses.
Sam continued to study the group intently as the DJ played a slow song. The four paired off and made their way out to the dance floor. They danced seductively, clinging to each other. Beth put her arms around her partner’s neck. For all intents and purposes, she hung there with only her toes touching the floor. He had never danced that way with Beth. After the song ended, they swapped partners. It seemed Beth had more than one girlfriend, she was not only a cheat, but a tramp. His heart sank into his stomach. He wondered how it could get any worse.
Eventually his cab showed up. Sam tore his eyes painfully away from the drama unfolding across the dance floor. Fred took Sam by the arm and walked him to the cab. He gave directions to the driver. He graciously helped Sam into the back, then leaned into the back seat and gave Sam a kiss right on his lips. Sam was so shocked he started to say something, when he opened his mouth Fred stuck his tongue in Sam’s mouth like a serpent raiding a bird's nest. Sam tried to push it out with his tongue which Fred mistakenly took for sex play.
The shock of the unexpected kiss produced a surge of adrenalin that enabled Sam to recover enough to push his admirer out of the cab. He thanked Fred profusely for his help, then pulled the door close. He sat back in the seat and tried to decide how he felt being kissed by a man for the first time. Was he flattered that a man wanted to kiss Samantha or be disgusted that he had exchanged spit with a man?
Ten minutes later, the cab arrived at the motel. Sam fumbled with his purse and, using the last of his cash assets, managed to find just enough to pay the driver.
He walked into the lobby and tried to check into the motel. The clerk was suspicious, seeing that the inebriated overdressed female standing before him had no luggage. He clerk demanded that Sam pay in advance.
Sam handed him his debit card. With his male name on it. The clerk questioned the card saying, “Miss, you don’t look like any Samuel I ever saw.”
Thinking quickly Sam stuck his left hand under the clerk’s nose displaying his wedding band. Then replied, “I’ll have you know it’s Mrs. Williams, not miss. The card belongs to my husband.”
The clerk thought that over for a couple of minutes before scanning the card. It cleared so he faced this obviously drunk bimbo and handed her a room key. “Alright I’ll take a chance on you. Just a word of warning! You only paid for a single, I better not see a man leave that room. If I do, I'll call the cops. Now get out of here before I change my mind!”
@ @ @ @
Sam found his room and stumbled in. He took off his dress, laying it over the chair. He kicked off his heels then turned to the bed and dove face down, laying there in nothing but his underwear. He was passed out within seconds.
He woke around midday with sunlight hitting him smack in the face. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton. His head pounded with the mother of all hangovers. Even his eyeballs hurt. It took him a few minutes to remember why he had the hangover and that made the hangover feel even worse.
When his head cleared, he remembered where he was and how he got there which sent a surge of adrenaline through his body. His senses began to come back slowly as he tried to get up. This proved to be a slow process with the hangover he had. Pushing off the bed he couldn’t but help to notice the pillowcase he had slept on. He realized he should have removed his makeup, as the case now resembled pictures he had seen of the Shroud of Turin. Blurrily imprinted on the white linen was a vague resemblance of Samantha’s face.
Finding his way to the bathroom, he took care of business with a deep sigh. ‘What the hell am I doing?’ He mused. He went to the sink and drank two glasses of water. He would have given his soul for a bottle of aspirin. He washed his hands staring at the ashen face reflection gawking back at him.
What greeted him in the mirror was a disaster. He should have taken off the wig as well as his makeup. Using a washcloth, he removed what smeared war paint as he could. He found his purse which, thankfully, he had managed to hang on to. Combing out the wig, he redid his lipstick so he at least looked presentable. He walked back to the bedroom and retrieved the dress and shoes. Putting them on he stood taking a quick glance at the mirror to evaluate his appearance. What he saw, putting it politely, resembled one of those ‘women of easy virtue’ that roamed the streets at night. He was thankful it was daytime. He took a deep breath and headed out into the blinding daylight to start his walk of shame back to his car.
It may have been three blocks on the map, but it proved to feel more like three miles because of the skyscraper heels he was wearing. It was a hot sunny day. He wanted to get to his car and get home as fast as possible. Running in the heels was out of the question so he moved as fast as he could. Taking fast mincing steps sent his padded patootie swaying like a palm tree in a hurricane. That tended to attract a lot of unwanted attention. During his stroll, he had four different cars, all driven by men, offering to give him a ride. He simply waved them off, not sure of his voice. After a night of practice, the best he could do was a soft somewhat husky tenor. Having no other option, he forged on. The heels had looked sexy when he selected them, but they were never meant for hiking.
He got to the safety of his car just as the sun was directly overhead. The only shadow he cast was from his large twin girls on his chest. With his long nails he fumbled at getting his purse open and managed to fish his keys out. Unlocking the door, he climbed in and leaned his head back against the rest, just thankful to be off his feet. He started the engine and put the AC on high. It took a few minutes to get his bearings and feel human again. He headed home, with his head pounding. He would have given almost anything for a pair of sunglasses.
He encountered a problem as soon as he pulled onto the highway. A police car pulled up behind him. His heart was pounding so hard he was afraid it would push out of his chest. After a couple of minutes, the car turned on its lights and siren. Sam’s only thought was, ‘Boy I’m fucked now. He hoped only figuratively, but the way he was dressed, he feared literally.’ With the heavy wig, corset, nylons and dress he was perspiring freely. He fought with all his might not to pee his pants. As the sweat pooled in his underwear, his panties became soggy and not for a good reason. He pulled off onto the shoulder and held his breath with the sword of Damocles hanging over his head.
Thankfully, the police car sped past him up the highway.
He sighed in relief. Eventually, he covered enough to drive. He made it home and pulled into the two-car garage silently muttering a prayer of thanksgiving for allowing him to make it home safely.
He felt like shit. He was glad that it was Sunday so that he had at least all day to get cleaned up and recover before he had to go back to work on Monday. He had no idea what he was going to do about Beth and their marriage. Last night was euphoric up until the time he discovered his wife was a cheating slut. Still, it was a night he would never forget.
His head throbbed; making it hard to think straight. He carefully took off his dress, put it on a hanger and placed it back in the closet exactly where he had found it. He managed to get everything else off, he was happy he was so flexible. He felt like a contortionist getting the corset off. It was an attribute that came in handy. The ladies didn’t have to tie the laces in knots, that in his opinion was just vindictive. Once everything was off, he piled them loosely at his feet. After a few minutes of serious consideration. He gathered everything up, realizing it would need to be run through the laundry, but not now. He placed all of his discards in his secret trunk and locked it before hopping in the shower where he scrubbed himself raw, staying there until the hot water ran out.
A passing glance at the bathroom mirror revealed he hadn’t gotten everything off. Out of necessity, he headed for Beth’s vanity and sat down to examine all of her beauty products.
He started with cold cream to get rid of what the soap and water missed. Unsatisfied with the results, he explored Beth’s beauty supplies and found makeup remover wipes. He used up an entire package of them.
Finally satisfied he was makeup free, he looked for nail polish remover. Alas, there was none. His only option was to go get some. Not thinking straight, he threw on a pair of sweats, grabbed his wallet and drove to the drugstore.
Once in the store he quickly found what he was looking for. Went to check out and found he had a problem he hadn’t thought about.
He placed the bottle on the counter and handed the young girl his debit card. She hesitated and gave him a puzzled look. Which was when he saw the issue. His hand holding the card had long shiny red nails. The high school girl looked quizzically at him and raised an eyebrow. Sam just stood there trying to hide his hands under the counter. He thought things can’t get any worse, then they did.
The clerk ran his card twice and handed it back to him informing him, his debit card had been refused. It seems he had insufficient funds in his account. Totally mortified, he snatched his card back and returned home.
With his head pounding once home he went to his work bench. Where he found the only thing; he could think of that might work. Some paint remover, thinking that will get rid of the polish. If that didn’t work, he would be required to use brute force and just grind it off.
At this point, he was totally frustrated. He soaked a rag and quickly wiped the polish off.
He found nail clippers in the bathroom and cut back his nails. The damn manicurist had used Acrylics nails rather than press on ones. He couldn’t cut them back as short as his usual length.
Sam was still feeling the effects of a stressful night of heavy drinking. He laid down on his bed to rest his eyes. He opened his eyes sixteen hours later as sunlight flooded the room. He squinted against the early morning sun peeking through the blinds, his full bladder making him slightly uncomfortable. He rolled onto his side and glanced at the bedside clock; his heart stopped as he realized he’d forgotten to set his alarm. He was already late for work. He threw on his suit and drove to his office, only slowing at stop signs. He parked and ran into the bank, briefly acknowledging the tellers already at their stations.
One commented, “Trying a new look Mr. Williams? I like it.”
Sam realized he must have missed something. So, he needed to say something. He went with, “Oh, yes I went to a fancy costume party this weekend. I guess I didn’t get everything off. I'll be back to normal in a few days.”
He collapsed at his desk and opened his email. For some reason he reached up to scratch his ear and his heart went into palpitations as he felt his crystal earring still in his newly minted holes.
He quickly removed them and dropped them in his coat pocket.
He could only pray no one had noticed. His door was open and for the next hour or so, it seemed every one of his female tellers found some reason to stop by with a problem or question.
At noon Sally, his assistant stuck her head in the door. “Boss, can I have a minute of your time?”
He looked up from the papers he was trying to study and said, “Sure Sally, come on in.”
Sally came in and closed the door and took a seat in front of Sam’s desk. “Mr. Williams, I have been your PA for almost five years. I really like you. You have been a good manager. But we need to have a talk. Your appearance this morning has created a hornet’s nest. Your new fashion statement is the only thing the ladies have been talking about all morning. I don’t think any work has gotten done.”
He blinked in confusion. “But I explained that away.”
Sally frowned at him. “Come on boss don’t bullshit me. What you do in your own time is your own business. If this is going to be a continuing thing you will need to learn to hide your activities. We both know this bank is the very definition of conservatism. Female employees have to wear dresses, or skirts with nylons and heels. You know as well as anyone, males have to wear white shirts, dark suits, plain dress shoes and conservative ties.
"I can only imagine what they would say about a male manager who shows up wearing earrings, plucked thin arched eyebrows, and what appears to be collagen enhanced lips with traces of makeup and nail polish still showing. Male employees have been let go for far less. Remember Bob Sutherland, who worked over at the main street branch? He was demoted only for not presenting the proper corporate image. All he did was wear a pink shirt and paisley tie to work.
"Mrs. Hunt, the district manager, is due here around 1 PM. Boss, she would have to be blind and dumb to miss the telltale signs of what was obviously a feminine makeover. Aside from your arched eyebrows, your bulbous lips still have a lovely red tint to them, matching perfectly the polish still in your cuticles. Your appearance aside, she is bound to hear the gossip.”
Sam was horrified, the ramifications of her words terrified him. He thanked Sally and told her he was starting his two-week yearly vacation immediately. His walk through the lobby was accompanied by a series of muted giggles.
Sam entered his car mortified beyond belief. On the drive home, he swore he was burying Samantha forever.
@ @ @ @
He drove home and entered the kitchen, making himself a cheese sandwich and a glass of milk.
He sat down and thought about what to do about Beth. He was so pissed, he decided he was in no mood for a confrontation.
If she preferred that bitch over him, that was fine. She made her bed, let her lie in it. He would just pack his bags and leave her. It was amazing how clear his head became with that decision made. It was like a huge weight had been lifted. He definitely felt better now that he had made a decision. He would deal with the ramifications of a separation and divorce later.
He got up and packed his bags. Deciding to leave the Samantha trunk right where it was, he would have no further need for it or its contents. He loaded his suitcases in his car and was making one last sweep of the house to see if he forgot anything, he paused briefly next to Beth’s bed. As an act of defiance, he slipped off his wedding ring and placed it on her pillow.
He drove off and got to the interstate before he realized how stupid this was, he had no plan he didn’t even know where he was going. All he was doing was driving. He pulled off at the next off ramp and pulled over to the side of the road. Using his phone, he checked for apartments. It only took one stop to realize he had a dilemma.
The landlord wanted a deposit, he had no money or credit card with him.
His debit card was maxed out so the only other money available to him was his savings account at his bank. There was no way he was going back there today.
It was still Monday, so he could go home and spend the night and be gone before Beth got home on Tuesday.
@ @ @ @
BETH’s story
Beth woke up Monday morning at Holly’s house. She too had a hangover from two nights of drinking and wild sex.
Beth climbed out of the bed and made her way to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. She had just sat down nursing her hangover. She was in a foul mood. Holly bounced out of the quest bedroom, muttering about how Tamie had run out of steam and how she needed a good fuck.
Holly approached Beth, and demanded she come back to bed as she wanted to play. Beth didn’t like being ordered to have sex. "God damn it, Holly, I've just about had it with you!" Beth shrieked.
Holly said she was tired of Beth being a tease. She was either her bitch or not. Beth simply replied, “NOT!” Nasty words were exchanged until Beth broke it off telling Holly she was going back to her husband, then it became rather cantankerous. Holly didn’t take rejection well. Her last words were, “I’ll get even with you, if it’s the last thing I do! No one turns me down for some Neanderthal, that even isn’t much of a man.”
Beth's emotions were caught between depression at losing her girlfriend and elation at the possibility of getting her husband back. She drove home and pulled into the garage. Passing through the kitchen, she saw the dirty lunch dishes on the table, she smiled and tsk tsked. “I’ll have to speak to the maid about that.”
Entering the bedroom, she opened her overnight bag and took out her fancy dress and went to her closet to hang it up.
While in there she detected a vaguely familiar scent. She couldn’t put her finger on it, with all that she had been through in the last day and a half, it was understandable.
She looked around and noticed that most of Sam’s clothes were missing. Another puzzle for her fried brain. She decided to take a nap and wait for Sam to get home. Despite the fact he never responded to the olive branch she had extended him over the phone. She had her fling on the wild side and was ready to make a new start on her marriage. If only Sam would cooperate.
Beth stood next to her bed and saw something shiny on her pillow. She bent over to inspect it. Upon close examination she became light headed and fell onto the bed clutching Sam’s wedding band. She laid there weeping uncontrollably, wondering why.
She cried out when she heard a car pull up in the driveway. She rushed to the window and saw it was Sam’s car. Her heart leapt with joy. She realized she must look frightened and rushed to the bathroom off of the kitchen to repair her makeup. She was just finishing up when she heard the front door open. She rushed out to great Sam with a hug and kiss.
TOGETHER AGAIN. TIME FOR EXPLANATIONS.
She only got two steps toward him when she was met with a fusillade of verbal abuse.
Sam spat out, “You damn fucking two-timing jezebel. What are you doing here? I thought you would still be with your lesbian girlfriend.”
Beth was taken back with the vehemence of the attack. Not to mention the shock, wondering how he knew about her infidelity. She stood there aghast staring open mouthed at Sam. Studying his face with his newly thinned arched eyebrows and his plump enhanced lips. Then a light bulb went on, it all made sense: his crossdressing, the perfume, the familiarity of the mystery lady at the club last night.
Now she was mad and became defensive. The one time in her life she stepped outside of societal norms and she gets caught and by her crossdressing husband no less. Where does he come off!
Things got acrimonious in a hurry. No longer scared, she went on the attack. The two stood toe to toe and exchanged verbal volleys: Whore, pussy, slut, pantywaist, bitch, limp-wristed queen, cunt licker, cupcake, floozie, pervert. Flew back and forth.
Sam was red in the face, his hands clenched into fists. He responded to the last insult by retorting, “I may be all those things, but at least I’m not an adulterer.”
That one brought Beth up short. She stepped back and took a deep breath. “Alright Sam. You got me on that one. Just don’t give me any of that holier than thou shit. Let’s sit down and talk this thing over like two adults.”
They sat at the kitchen table facing each other. Sam sat scrunching his forehead trying to get a hold of his temper and started, “Alright, you go first. How do you suggest we settle this?”
Beth studied her husband’s face as he chewed on his large puffy lower lip. She could stare down a shark and Sam knew it.
He broke eye contact and suddenly took great interest in his hands.
Beth felt she now had the upper hand suggested, “Let’s start by being totally honest with each other. How long have you known, you know, that you are the person I saw Saturday night? She phrased her question very carefully.”
Sam’s eyes filled with shame. He licked his puffy lips, and gave that question some thought before answering truthfully, “Practically all my life, it first manifested itself when I was a teenager. It started with me wearing moms’ clothes. When I dress as a woman, I just feel that’s the way I was meant to be. It just feels so bloody normal.”
Beth sighed and thought ‘That was exactly the same way she felt in the arms of her lover Holly.’
Sam took a deep breath and went on. “Saturday was the first time I’ve ever been out of the house dressed.”
“How did it make you feel?”
“It was exhilarating. Being dressed always makes me feel glorious. Like the shackles of being forced to be a man, had just come off and I was a different person. I loved it until you walked in with your tart.”
Taking a deep breath, he continued, “My turn to ask questions. How long have you been a lesbian?”
Beth leaned back in her chair and studied the ceiling before finally answering, “That’s a tough one. This is a bit embarrassing, as long as we are being totally honest. I have been bisexually curious ever since I started puberty. Until this weekend, I have never acted on those feelings.”
“Why is that?” asked a flabbergasted Sam.
Beth sat in silence for several minutes thinking about her response, “Never had the opportunity, I guess. I never had the courage to go out looking for a woman. You men have it easy, if you see a woman you like you go up to her and ask her out. If she says no, it’s not a big deal.”
She hesitated momentarily before murmuring. “Now envision a lesbian, say me, going up to a woman she finds attractive. What would I do, walk up and say, ‘Hi I think you are pretty would you like to go out with me some time?’ If I guessed wrong, I would die from embarrassment and shame.”
“That all changed when Holly came to work for me, she was completely open about her sexuality. As you saw she is a beautiful, sexy woman. She brought in a number of clients from her circle of likeminded friends. That has been so successful. I've altered my inventory and we have a large section dedicated to big and large framed women now. It has turned into a real moneymaker.
"It didn’t take long before she let me know she was attracted to me. Despite my attraction to her, I kept putting her off until this weekend. I wasn’t sure I could go through with it. I sent you a message hoping you would talk me out of it. I guess our marriage didn’t mean enough to you to bother replying. So, I said what the hell and took a fling on the wild side. I gave myself up to Holly for one wild weekend.”
Sam tried to come to terms with all this when Beth inquired, “Alright your turn. Why do you like dressing as a woman?”
Sam scrunched his forehead. “I’m not sure how to answer that. I enjoy the way it makes me feel when I’m dressed.”
Beth questioned again, “Is it a stress relief thing? I have read that is a common justification given by crossdressers.”
Sam thought about that before answering, “I don’t think that’s why. When I’m dressed, I just like myself better. Just putting on the clothes gives me a rush. When I am dressed, I feel like a different person. My dream has always been to go out into the world looking and acting like a woman and being accepted as one.”
“Do you want to be a woman?”
"I've wanted to look and feel like a woman, but I never wanted to be a woman.”
Beth looked skeptical, "Come on! There has to be more!”
“It’s just that sometimes I enjoy getting dressed up. I want to look attractive, and feminine. It is not really a sexual thing. I’m not attracted to men!"
Now Beth asked the big one. “Do you want a sex change?”
“No, I like being a man.”
Beth snicker, “That’s hard to believe.”
Sam felt trapped, he decided to be totally honest and let the cards fall where they may. “Alright you are right, I never wanted to be a woman, but I’ll confess, I have always wondered what I would feel like to have my own set of breasts, that and wearing heels and a nice tight dress makes me feel like a woman.
Beth was incredulous, “Are you telling me you enjoy wearing high heels and constrictive foundation garments? Most women would gladly never put on another pair of heels and there are reasons the corset industry is out of business.”
He spread his hands in a bit of confusion. “It’s hard to explain when I’m dressed, a calm comes over me.”
“Come on Sam, we are being totally honest.”
Sam looked down at his hands, his heart racing, perspiration forming on his brows. The silence was deafening. Finally, he answered, “I admit sometimes when I’m dressed and feeling feminine, I wonder what it would be like to be with a man. I would never in a million years act on those fantasies.”
Beth smirked. “We’ll have to see about that!”
Sam became defensive. “Anyway, I’m all through with that!”
@ @ @ @
Beth smiled nervously and asked the question that would determine her future, “Sam, do you love me after what you saw this weekend?”
Thinking for several minutes Sam eventually replied “Yes. My love for the woman I married has never been in question.” What he didn’t say was he was having second thoughts, ‘was this woman the same person he married?’
He then asked. “Let me ask you, do you love me knowing about my fetish?”
Beth scratched her head then answered. “That’s a tough one. If you had asked me last week, I would have said absolutely. I have known or at least suspected about you wearing my clothes for some time.”
Sam’s mouth went dry, “And what has happened to make you question that love?”
Beth leaned back in her chair and relished being in the driver’s seat then answered, “Oh, where do I begin? I am not the same person I was a week ago. Change is the only thing constant in life. Ever since I opened my store I have been changing. The weekend with Holly has accelerated that change in me. I am no longer a naïve housewife. What you see before you today is a strong independent entrepreneur, who has the fortitude to even question the status quo of her sexuality. It is only natural that I should question my love for you and our relationship.”
Taking a deep breath to compose herself she went on, “This weekend I learned that I’m attracted to sexual partners with soft, feminine characteristics.”
Sam couldn’t hold back any longer, “So where does that leave us?”
“We will have to see. I can’t give you an answer right now.”
Beth wasn’t done with her interrogation. “Which brings up the question where and with whom did you spend the night?”
Sam with his emotions in an uproar puffed up in a sense of religiousness. “I slept in a motel room, by myself! Can you claim the same?”
That wasn’t the response Beth had hoped for and she knew that she would have to be honest. She took a breath before she said, “Well, I wasn’t alone. Holly invited a couple of her girlfriends to join us at the club on Saturday night.”
Sam calmly commented, “Yes, I saw them.”
Beth realized Sam had been at the club, so he had obviously seen it all. “What did you think of them?”
Confused by the question he answered, “They were alright, I guess. Since I wasn’t exactly introduced to them. I thought they were two attractive ladies from what I could see.”
Beth smirked, surprised her husband wanted to hear about her indiscretion, “Do you want me to tell you about my weekend?”
“No not really. But, if we have any chance of a future relationship, I guess it would be better if I heard it all now.”
Beth blushed, “Well if you really want to know, I’ll tell you about it. Holly’s friends were really nice. We stayed at the club and partied until the final call when they threw us out. All four of us went to Holly’s place to continue our party. At first, they were all over Holly and I, there was no hint they were anything out of the ordinary. I thought they were two hot lesbians. I couldn’t wait to get them alone.”
We danced, drank and lounged around on the furniture making out like horny teenagers, we finished off more wine. I was really drunk. Holly had to carry me to her bed.”
Sam commented, “So drunk or not, did you two make love?”
Beth chuckled, “Honey, we did a lot of wild things, none of which could be called making love.”
With a smug look on her face Beth went on. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings. That night, Holly was more of a man than you ever have been. She took me, possessed me, ravaged me. She fucked me until I dropped from exhaustion. It was glorious, I never felt so sexually sated in my life.”
Sam’s feelings were in fact hurt; he had never felt less like a man. “Beth, is that what you want out of sex? To be possessed?”
Beth shook her head sharply. “NO! At first it was exciting; it was so different than you. After a while, it was just a shade short of rape.”
Sam saw a ray of hope. “So she forced you?”
Beth was ashamed and blushed crimson. “I actually never got the word ‘No’ out of my mouth. I tried but Holly seemed to keep it full of other things.”
Sam was confused and gestured with his hands indicating her to go on. There had to be more to the story.
Beth stood up and put a kettle on the stove for tea.
She sat back down and confessed, “For a while, an observer in our bedroom might have thought they stumbled into a revival meeting, with all the ‘Oh my God, thank God, glory be and hallelujahs ringing out. And I am ashamed to admit there were a lot of ‘Yes, don’t stop!’
Sam was lost, “How can that be confused with rape?”
Beth gave Sam an inscrutable grin. “Holly got me drunk. You have to believe me that I wasn’t in control of all my faculties. It has been so long since I have had a satisfactory sexual encounter and I lost control. With a tongue in my pussy, my base animal instincts took over. It wasn’t possible for me to say no. I had countless orgasms. None of which I asked for. However, they were genuine, nevertheless. Just what I was looking for when I went off with Holly.”
“So, Beth are you telling me they were unsatisfying,” inquired Sam.
“I was looking for the way I felt on our honeymoon. It wasn’t there with Holly, there was definitely lust present but sadly, love was nowhere to be found.”
Sam had a ray of hope that he hadn’t lost his wife.
“So, if you weren’t a willing participant you aren’t technically an adulteress.”
Beth stood up to stall for time and made two cups of tea, trying to decide if she should confess the rest. She put both cups on the table. She blew on hers to cool it off.
“Are you sure you want to hear the rest? It might be brutal to hear.”
Sam thought he had endured the worst. Sam rationalized how bad it could get. It turned out he had only dipped his toe in the pool of humiliation.
“Yes, we have gone this far, let’s get it all out in the open, then we can see where we go from here.”
Beth was nervous but went on anyway, “Alright, just remember you asked for it. You have an idea of how my Saturday went; Sunday is where it got dicey. Holly woke me up late mid-morning with a toe-curling kiss on the lips. She led me to the kitchen where breakfast was day-old pastries and a pitcher of Bloody Mary’s. That was followed up by all four of us taking advantage of Holly’s large hot tub. No one had suits so we were all au naturel."
Beth reached across the table and put her hand atop of Sam’s. “What would you say if I told you I discovered those two friends of Holly’s were no ladies. In fact, they weren’t even women. Does that shock you?”
“After what I experienced that night, I can truthfully say no. There were some very pretty girls there.”
Beth replied, “Well I was surprised."
Beth then in a spite of vindictiveness, proceeded to describe in salacious detail the rest of her weekend.
“I spent Saturday night in Holly’s bed, I didn’t find out the truth about Holly’s two friends until Sunday when we all jumped in the hot tub naked. You can just imagine my reaction, seeing two sets of DD boobs bouncing over two swinging dicks, that were as impressive as their upstairs companions. While we were in the tub, we finished off several bottles of wine and Holly passed around a couple of joints.”
Sam was shocked, “You used drugs?”
“Relax it was only pot, no big deal.”
“When we got out and dried off, we all went out to dinner. I’m sorry about this. We went to an exclusive gourmet restaurant. We had before dinner cocktails, then five-star meals, that necessitated expensive French wine with them, then after dinner we had a digestif with dessert. Holly had been paying for everything, so I thought it polite to pick up the bill. I had left my corporate card at the office. So, I used our debit card. It was close to $400 so don’t be surprised when you get the statement,”
Sam thought ‘That explains a lot.’
Beth refilled her cup. Sam hadn’t touched his. He thought he was going to be sick.
Beth went on feeling confession will give her some relief - good for the soul as they say.
She took a deep breath and went on, “When we got back to Holly’s place, there was a fat doobie being passed around. I passed and said I was going to bed. Holly was not happy with me. She stormed off in a huff. The last I saw of her was when she and Tammie disappeared into the guest bedroom. I went in and got undressed. I'd just climbed under the covers when the door opened. Paula came in looking pretty down. Her bed was being used and wanted to sleep in the room with me, but she offered to sleep on the floor.
"Sam this is hard for me to tell you. I get all tingly just thinking about it. Paula didn’t look like he was ready for bed. It appeared as if Paula had just touched up his makeup. He was wearing the darkest red lipstick I had ever seen."
So I told her. “Nonsense Paula there is plenty of room in this bed.”
Paula smiled, “Thanks. Give me a minute. I’ll get undressed and be right there.”
Paula stripped rapidly, throwing his clothes in a corner.”
Beth paused and squirmed in her seat reliving her night's activities, “Sam I couldn’t believe it. Here was this creature with the face of a fashion model and figure of a centerfold. As if that wasn’t enough, he was hung like a Chippendale dancer. The first thing that popped into my head was here is an example of a hermaphrodite. But as I was soon to learn Paula was all man where it counted."
Sam didn’t need to hear that. His innards were churning. He pleaded with his eyes for her to stop.
She was lost in a trance and went on, “I turned on my side and scooted over to make room for him. My heart was going wild as I waited for him to join me.”
Sam felt like he was being stabbed in the heart, her continued reference to Paula being a he was killing him Beth wasn’t describing a lesbian liaison now she was talking about a full-blown infidelity.
He sat with his elbows on the table, his head in his hands rubbing his temples, mesmerized listening while Beth continued her tale. “He slid in next to me and spooned with me. His aroma preceded him. I laid there luxuriating in his cocoon of perfume. I inhaled deeply. It was as if I was resting in a field of wildflowers.
"Nothing happened at first, we just laid side by side. It made me feel safe. I relaxed and soon was safely in the arms of Morpheus. Sometime later, I was awakened by Paula giving me light butterfly kisses on my neck. They weren’t aggressive, just sweet and tender and sent chills down my spine all the way to my twat.”
Beth studied Sam’s face to try and read how Sam was taking this revelation. She was out of luck, Sam had on his best poker face. She missed the perspiration running down his neck.
Beth took the chance and went on. “Sam, those kisses scared me, I was as stiff as a board not sure what was coming next. My first experience with lesbian sex, was harsh and aggressive. This wasn’t anything like that.
"Sam, he purred into my ear and lovingly said, “Relax honey I’m not going to hurt you. You can say stop at any time, please trust me. My partner is off fucking your slutty girlfriend. I am feeling lonely and abandoned. I just didn’t want to be alone tonight. I just want to make you feel good.
"Then the kisses stopped and led to petting. I started it. I couldn’t keep my hands off this luscious creature. Her skin was as silky smooth as a newborn baby. I explored each inch of the beautiful man. There wasn’t a hair anywhere, not even stubble. Even his ball sack was silky smooth. Time seemed to stand still. I couldn’t control myself, I just had to touch her, to feel that giant rod in my hand, to feel its silky texture, god Sam it was so soft but also a hard steel bar I stroked it, I played with it until he ordered me to stop.
"Sam it was incredible. He took over with his hands. His caresses such as they were, felt light as a feather. He actually never made solid contact with my skin. His hands just explored every inch and crevice of my body without ever touching me. His fingers glided from one spot to the next like an airboat hovering over me.”
Beth took the time to take a big breath. While Sam used a napkin to dry his forehead and tried to get his heartbeat under control. “Sam it was the most sensuous thing I have ever experienced.”
Sam was beginning to feel very uncomfortable but needed to hear the rest. Just yank the band aid off and get it over with was his thought.
Beth continued with her account. “I eventually turned to face him. The next thing I knew we were kissing each other. Honey, I have never kissed anyone like that, it wasn’t foreplay kissing meant as an appetizer to the main course of intercourse. Rather it was a way of sharing an emotional state. His breath was sweet, remonstrant of the chocolate mousse we had for dessert. This kiss went on for the longest time. It was the ultimate form of intimacy without the sexual component.”
Sam was as excited as he was concerned. “I can feel a ‘but’ coming. What happened next?”
Beth got down on one knee next to Sam and took his hand in hers. “You’re right there is a lot more. Are you sure you want to hear the rest? This is where I earned the title of adulteress.”
“God help me, but I have to know.” Sam got out from his parched throat.
@ @ @ @
“Our lips were locked together for the longest time. Paula was the one to break it off. I was willing to spend the night attached like that. Paula then kissed her way down my body. Again, each kiss was just a delicate peck with a flicked trace of her tongue. When he got to my breasts, I was ready to burst. He started at the base and worked his way up toward my nipples in ever smaller concentric circles. When he reached the summit of my mounds, he captured my teat with those beautiful soft lips. Rather than nurse on them the way I like he merely teased them with flicks of his agile tongue. Every time I tried to raise up to push my sensitive nipple into his lips, he retreated, keeping her mouth just out of reach.
"Frustratingly, he left my breasts and expertly skipped from one erogenous zone to the next. My lord! The man even found some I didn’t realize I had. I was so stimulated that I was gushing from my privates. The sheets were wet with my gooey juices soaking in. I have never experienced anything like it in my life, I had to keep shifting my tush to keep the sheets dry under me. Little good it did, I ended up sleeping in a small lake of our combined secretions.”
Beth drank the tea left in her cup to moisturize her parched mouth. She took the cup and saucer over to the sink.
In an effort to lighten the mood, she announced before sitting down, “Sam, the man could make a bloody fortune as a sex surrogate.”
Sam was almost catatonic. This was a side of Beth he never even imagined existed.
There was no way, at his best, that he could compete with this sexpot. He tried to figure out how to make his exit with as much dignity as he could. As he started to stand, Beth noticed and rushed to him.
“Honey, please sit back down and let me finish. If we are going to have a chance as a couple, you need to hear me out.”
Reluctantly, Sam sat back down.
She was really pissed at him for hiding his girlie side all these years. Telling him everything that happened would shock him and rip at his masculine ego. So be it, let the chips fall where they may. He would either accept her for who she is or their marriage will be over. It was better to find out now than to drag it out. Beth sat across from him and decided to open her soul to her husband.
“Sam, what do you think happened next?”
“He fucked you!”
“Heaven knows that would be the typical male response. Paula is a lot of things, but being a typical male is not one of them. He moved down the bed and continued his kissing. Then he worked up my legs. When he got to the inside of my thighs, I thought the end was near. But no, he kept moving slowly up between my legs. By the time she eventually reached my vulva, I was going crazy and I needed him like I have never needed a man before. He licked his way up toward my clitoris. I knew it was going to happen now. The classic act of cunnilingus.
"The bastard intentionally stopped millimeters short. Then all he did was blow hot moist air over my clit, but never once touched it. I felt it building slowly, my body shuddering fiercely and I couldn’t stop it, like a tidal wave it kept crashing over me and I came with a massive orgasm without penetration or direct clitoral stimulation. I would never have imagined that possible.”
@ @ @ @
Sam interrupted, “If that is intended to make me feel better, you have failed miserably.”
“Sam I just need you to know what happened and how I felt. After I recovered, I pulled Paula up on the bed by the ears. I went down on his meat like a hungry lion. As you know, I have never been a fan of fellatio. All that revolting pubic hair seems so nasty.
"He was different, totally hairless, even his ball sack. I took his balls in my mouth and played with them like they were jawbreakers. I have never enjoyed anything more. It was gorgeous and exciting to feel them throb and pulse in my mouth, I just wanted to give him the same pleasure he had given me.
"Then I moved to his joystick. It was simply the most gorgeous organ I have ever seen. Oh god the look on his face as my lips closed around the giant head, I felt so powerful knowing I made him feel the way he made me. I wanted more. I needed to prove I could do it. I sucked that monster into my mouth, I kissed it, I sucked it, I made love to it. I worshiped it for the longest time.”
Sam slumped in his chair waiting for her story of infidelity to be over so he could make his escape.
He mumbled, “I suppose his tool was massive.”
Beth looked up at him, “It depends on how you measure. Yes dear, I guess you can say he was. I don’t mean to hurt you, but he had a larger girth, but he wasn’t any longer than you.”
Sam tried to fight it, but a small smile crossed his lips.
“Sam let me tell you about the rest of my night.”
Sam was listening with a mixture of curiosity and terror. Beth went on with what seemed to Sam was a sense of pride.
“After my blow job, we were both spent. We laid side by side in the afterglow of good sex. I rested my head on his shoulder. His manhood was limp, playing with it seems to do nothing for Paula. Paula’s hand casually found its way to my bush. He lovingly ran his finger through my pubic hair. I found his nonchalant actions nice but not sexually stimulating. Everything I tried to do with his cock didn’t get a rise out of him.
"When I looked over at Paula with my head on his shoulder as a pillow all I could see was his full breasts. I hadn’t paid them any attention. I never imagined a male would get any pleasure out of breast play. I was desperate so I leaned over and sucked on a nipple. It was like I had lit a fuse, what was once limp soundly showed new life.
"I lovingly nursed on his breasts, once he was fully firm, he crawled between my legs and took me in the classic missionary position which worked out fantastically as it gave me easy access to his womanly protrusions. He entered me and held it there for the longest time. When he pushed into me it was glacially slow, honey it drove me crazy. He moved a millimeter at a time. I begged for him to just fuck me. He just smiled and returned to inching his manhood back into me. Once he had bottomed out, he retreated at the same pace. The nerve endings in my vagina walls fired off like a kaleidoscope. I could feel every subtle nuance of his penis. I have never had intercourse like that before. It was incredible. That's all I can say, incredible. I felt this wonderful tingling right inside of me, on the inside of my thighs, in my stomach, up and down my back, and into my arms and legs...it was like every part of me was on fire, but in a wonderful way. I rode the wave, and then I rode it again and again. When I was done, I was spent, beautifully spent. But I figured the fun was just beginning. It seemed like he took hours to come. By then I was past my second orgasm and approaching number three.”
Sam could clearly see her experimentation with a shemale was an existential threat to their marriage.
At that time, Sam’s cell phone went off. Sam fished it out of his pocket and the caller ID showed that it was Sally his PA. Sam looked at Beth and helped her to her feet, “I need to take this.”
He stood off to the side and put the phone to his ear. Beth watched him as his face drained of blood and he turned pale. He staggered back to the table and fell into his chair.
Beth asked, “What’s wrong?”
“That was Sally. Mrs. Hunt showed up for a spot inspection and was unhappy that I wasn’t there. It would seem she heard the office gossip and believed it. She removed me from my position effective immediately because I did not project the proper managerial image. She's promoted Sally to my position. Sally recommended I take as much vacation time as I can before coming back.”
“What does that mean?” Beth asked.
Sam shrugged his shoulders and answered as truthfully as he could. “I don’t know, they can’t fire me, but can transfer me or demote my position. In any case, it isn’t good. I can’t see how my life can get any worse.”
Beth wasn’t sure what to do next. The two sat there for the longest time, each lost in their own thoughts.
Then there was a text from Sally. Sam glared at the text. His jaws tightened as he read the message. ‘Good and bad news boss. The good news first, Mrs. Hunt has authorized me to offer you a new position when you return from vacation. The bad news you’ll be starting all over, it’s as a teller. I’ll hold it open for you as long as I can. Let me know what you decide.’
@ @ @ @
Sam was despondent and spitting mad, the light was gone from his eyes. Beth didn’t see his demotion as bad news; it gave her plan a real chance. This played perfectly into her plans. She now had control of the center square of her chess game with Sam.
The two sat there locked in a staring contest. They sat there looking at each other until Beth broke the hypnotic state by saying, “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
Sam stood and replied. “Other than the fact you are a total slut. I was just wondering why you told me all this?”
“Sam, please let’s be civil. I told you this so we can understand each other, no more lies or deceptions.”
Sam stood and headed for the door.
Beth chased after him and cut him off. “Where are you going?”
“To my car, my suitcases are still packed in the trunk. I will go through the drive through at the bank and close out my account. Then I will look for someplace to stay, you can have the house all to yourself.”
Beth was taken back, “Why would you do that?”
Sam was confused, “After what you told me, how could you think I would do anything else?”
“Sam, you are a bloody fool. You listened to what I said but didn’t hear anything?”
“Beth, I heard very clearly, you had the lesbian experience you have dreamed about your entire life. You were disappointed, when reality didn’t measure up to fantasy. Then you had a second experience that surpassed your dreams. How am I doing so far?”
She nodded in acknowledgement. “Go on. Don’t stop now!”
“I saw the look on your face whenever you mentioned Paula’s name. I can’t compete with a sexpot like her. I hope you two will be very happy.
“You’re missing the point. Paula is a him, not a her.”
Sam spoke through gritted teeth. “Great that makes me feel lots better. My wife is a lesbian but has the hots for a transsexual over her girlfriend or her husband.”
“Damn it, Sam, please listen to me, it’s you I want not Paula.”
Sam choked on that, “I am confused. It sure doesn’t sound that way to me.”
“Honey, Paula and I had a long talk and we realized that we only lust in common. We both have mates. Paula admitted she was in an open relationship, she is free to have brief flings, but is not interested in anything long term. I feel the same way, I love you. No one else.”
Sam frowned. “Now I’m really lost. What is it you want? It’s obviously not a monogamous marriage.”
Beth shook her head. "You’re wrong. From this point on I will insist on fidelity. I want you, but a different you, one more like Paula. A mature woman with working boy parts.”
“And just how would that work?”
“I have it all worked out. All you have to do is agree.”
“Go on Beth. Fill me in.”
“Well, it seems you need a new job. Holly and I have split, so I find myself in urgent need of an assistant. As I understand it, most transvestites' greatest dream is to dress full time. You could come and work for me as a woman. You would dress full time. I get an assistant at work and a sexy female partner at home."
@ @ @ @
What do you call your feminine self?”
“Samantha!”
Beth thought about that and said, “That’s not very creative, how about I call you Melissa, or just Missy for short? That sounds like an appropriate name for a shop assistant. That way we can have a clean slate for our new life.
“You can call me anything you want. I have serious doubts about your reliability, truthfulness and fidelity.”
Beth smiled, “Your reservations are understandable. You must understand I’m not the person I was. I’ve evolved this weekend. I promise to be truthful. As to fidelity, we’ll leave that window open for now for both of us. It is time to stop looking to the past, if you focus on what’s behind you, you will miss what’s coming right toward you."
The decision loomed over him like an ominous shadow of disaster.
"Think about what I am offering you. The opportunity to become the lady that is buried deep in your psyche. You may not believe me at the moment, but I think we can both get what we want and need. I want to make you happy. By being my shop girl, it will give us the chance to share your femininity. I think we both would enjoy that. No more hiding it from me.”
Then just for a few moments there was one of those ugly pauses when neither person knows what to say next.
Sam eventually broke the ice. "I only want to be happy," said Sam forlornly.
"I can't control your mind and force you to be happy. Only you can make things better. Accept the things in your life that you can't change and make the best of it. I think this is a win, win situation.
"You are a transvestite, there is no denying it, or getting away from your compulsion to dress girly. As far as I know there is no cure for that ‘ailment.’ Do you want to live out your life stealing a few hours every once in a while?
“I am offering you an alternative. You can be Melissa or if you would prefer Samantha out in public, 8 to 9 hours a day or if you would rather for 24/7. I am talking about total immersion into the feminine lifestyle. I get the help I need at work, and a feminine partner at home to satisfy my lesbian tendencies. You get to live out your life as a woman.”
Sam looked doubtful, so Beth played her hole card. “Personally, I would be delighted to have you as a pretty feminine lover, or at worst as a housemate to share a womanly lifestyle with. Sam, we only have one life to live. If we do it right one is enough. Carpe diem dear, make the most of this opportunity."
Sam still looked skeptical and replied “I need time to think this through. I am emotionally exhausted. I’ll let you know my decision tomorrow.”
“Think how delicious it will be to be pursued instead of the pursuer. I will woo you and win your love back. I will do whatever it takes, life without you is like a broken pencil. Pointless!”
“Like I said Beth, tomorrow. Now get off my back!”
@ @ @ @
For Sam, it was a very long night. He really wrestled with what to do. The idea of dressing as a woman and holding down a job as one was intriguing, but then there was the fear of being exposed as a cock in a frock had him scared.
The alarm clock woke him, Beth jumped out of bed and hurriedly dressed, and left for work without a word to her husband. He snuggled himself down under the duvet a little and laid in the warmth for a few minutes feeling considerably better than he had recently. Sometime during the night, he had made his decision.
@ @ @ @
After fixing and eating a good breakfast he called Beth to tell her his decision.
The first call at 9, went unanswered. He tried again at 10 and Beth picked up her cell, “Well what is it? I’m really busy.
“I just wanted to give you my answer.”
“We will talk about it when I get home. I want you to look me in the eye.”
“I just want to let you know what I’ve decided.”
“Are you suddenly hard of hearing? I said we will talk when I get home!” Then she hung up.
Sam thought to himself, ‘I’ve never heard her be so…. authoritative before. I wonder what’s gotten into her?’
Sam decided to make himself useful spending the day cleaning the house. He was busy preparing dinner when he heard a car pull up in the driveway.
He was in the kitchen preparing a lasagna and salad for dinner when he heard Beth open the front door.
"I'm in the kitchen!" he called out.
He heard her throw her car keys down and listened to the clack of her heels on the tiles in the hallway as she walked into the kitchen. She poured herself a cup of coffee from the countertop as she leaned against the breakfast bar and nursed her cup of coffee. Watching Sam preparing their evening meal.
"Did you manage to get some sleep?" she asked, staring at her husband.
"Yes, thanks for asking."
He decided to face her, “I’ve given it a lot of thought and have decided to accept your offer.”
“Well don’t act like you are doing me any favors!”
“I thought you would be happy.”
She snarled, “I am. Can’t you tell.”
Sam was off balance but went on. I will work as your shop girl, but I need some assurance. Do you think I could pull it off?"
"We will have to see. Now give me your best feminine voice."
Sam tried his best, Beth laughed so hard she peed her panties. “That will never do. You will have to be dumb and not speak until we can work something out. How long did it take you to do your makeup?"
“I didn’t do it myself, I had it done professionally. It took them several hours.”
Beth thought that over, “Well you are going to have to learn. You won’t be getting a lot of sleep if have to get up at 3 AM to make Missy presentable.”
Beth gave the problem some serious thought and finally the internet was her only solution.
She was sure Sam could find the help he needed on some website. She directed Sam to get busy and find something.
He went out to his car to get his laptop. He wasn’t gone three minutes when his cellphone rang. Beth picked it up and answered it. After a 10-minute phone call and some brief negotiations. It was like a miracle her problems were solved.
Sam came in with his arms full, with his computer and some other odds and ends he had left in the car.
He found a jubilant Beth, much to Sam’s surprise. “What’s up Beth, why the sudden change of heart?”
"Your problems are solved. You left your overnight bag at the transformation studio, and gave them your cell as a contact number. They called while you were out wanting to know what to do with your things.”
“Alright, I’ll swing by and pick my things up.”
“No, you will do more than swing by! I have you booked in Monday through Friday for five hours a day.”
“What! Beth you have gone off the deep end!”
“I don’t think so. I have found a solution to our problem. You will dress as Missy here in the morning. Doing the best, you can. Then Missy will open the store every day by 7:30 AM. Then you will stay away from interacting with customers and keep your mouth shut. You will be my silent stock girl until noon. Then you will report to the studio for two hours of makeup lessons. That will be followed by deportment and voice lessons for the next 3 hours. They have assured me that Missy will be able to hold her own as a woman, in any situation.”
Sam was trying to wrap his head around what his wife was purposing. “Beth, that is going to be a very long day for me, I’ll have to think this over.”
“Like hell you will! It’s all settled. After your lessons you will report home and clean the house while preparing my evening meal. I expect a hot meal will be on the table waiting for me the moment I walk through the door.”
This staggered Sam. He asked and what do I get out of it?”
“Why that’s obvious. You get to wear high heels, dresses, girdles, and makeup 16 hours a day.”
Sam was at a lost at what to say. Beth waited a reasonable amount of time. When Sam hadn’t said anything, she gave him an ultimatum. “It’s either that or the door. I won’t force you to do anything. You stay because you want to or you pack your bags and leave.”
"Without a doubt, honey! I wouldn't have asked if I didn't think so.
We will have to do a little work on your appearance though."
“If you are going to come to work for me, you need to look the part. That means a really pretty hairstyle, perfect makeup, nails, and the whole feminine works. I have very high standards of appearance for my staff. How long did it take you to achieve you appearing Saturday night? It was unbelievably good. I stood right next to you and had no idea it was you. I may have been drinking but wasn’t that drunk.”
Sam blushed then answered, “Thanks, I had my makeover professionally done. It took them about half a day.”
“Well Melissa, that is obviously impracticable. We will have to find a way you can dress and do your own makeup by yourself. I certainly am not going to be your maid.”
Sam could see the logic in what she was saying and decided he would work hard to learn what he had to so he could pass up close. Ever the businessman, Sam broached the subject. “Speaking of being a member of your staff. Let’s discuss compensation.”
A bemused Beth smiled, “Okay, I will give you the same deal I had with Holly. You get minimum wage plus 10% of your sales and will get an employee discount of 15% off everything in the store.”
Sam thought about and did some quick mental calculations, so he countered with, “I want 15% commission from all my sales.”
Beth openly laughed at his offer.
They negotiated back and forth for 30 minutes, Beth finally laid down an ultimatum, “Missy here is my final offer, minimum wage, plus a 12% commission on all your sales, with 3% going into a medical savings account, with the money only to be used for cosmetic surgery.”
Sam agreed to take the offer under consideration. He wanted to sleep on it before committing to such a drastic change of lifestyle.
Sam was flustered, he replied, “I am not sure, I am in a real quandary. As I explained, I love dressing up as a woman, but if I understand what you are suggesting is, I give up being a man and all that entails.”
“Yes dear, that is exactly the opportunity I am offering you. A chance to live out your dream, of dressing up in sexy lingerie and pretty dresses and makeup every day. What really are you giving up? Standing to pee, wearing the same boring suites and ties every day. In exchange of plane old Sam, you can be the sexy and alluring Melissa.”
“Honey, you need to step back and put your male ego aside to evaluate this chance objectively.
Femininity isn’t a four-letter word. It is a set of attributes, behaviors, and roles generally associated with women. Although femininity is socially constructed, research indicates that some behaviors considered feminine are biologically influenced. To what extent femininity is biologically or socially influenced is subject to debate. It is distinct from the definition of the biological female sex, as both males and females can exhibit feminine traits. I am not suggesting you get a sex change. Those traits are in you and I am offering you a chance to set them free."
When they retired for the night, Sam found Beth had laid out vintage a long powder blue beautiful double sheer negligee on his bed. He thought ‘what the hell’ and slipped in on. Being hairless, the feeling was incredible. It was designed to accentuate the body in all the right places and Sam was in heaven, he knew this was Beth’s way to tip the scales toward him becoming Melissa. At the time, he didn’t care as he slipped under the sheets and cherished the feeling of being embraced by the most feminine and sexy garment he had ever seen.
Sam had a very restless night. He was drawn to the thought of dressing full time, not having to hide it from his wife but with her consent and active support. On the other hand, dressing 24/7 would mean relinquishing any claim on masculinity in exchange for a lifetime of femininity.
The next morning over coffee, Beth asked, "So what do I call you Sam or Melissa?"
Sam said, “I think I have decided, do you want to know my answer?”
“I’m sorry but it is late I have to get to work, we’ll talk when I get home?”
That gave Sam the entire day to reconsider his decision. When Beth got home, he didn’t hesitate he looked Beth right in the eyes, “If you are sure I would like to trade in my man card and be Melissa from now on.
@ @ @ @
Beth gladly agreed, they sealed the deal with a kiss the likes of which they hadn’t done in years.
Breaking the kiss Sam asked, “So we are friends again?”
Beth smiled mischievously and despite the early hour pulled her husband towards the bedroom.
Once inside, she rushed to her dresser and pulled out pink nightgown, handed it to Sam and said “Go into the bathroom, put this on and you’ll find some lipstick and perfume on the countertop put them on then come to bed. I will show what fringe benefits go with the job.”
When he came out Beth noted how thin and girlish Sam's arms and legs looked now that they'd been completely depilated. and how soft and open his face looked with his waxed and shaped eyebrows. It got her juices flowing. She remembered back to her wedding night how nervous and scared she was about giving up herself to her manly husband. Tonight, she was determined to do the taking. Sally had shown her how to be the aggressor in the boudoir. She was going to use that experience to ravish her lover. Sam didn’t know it yet, but he was about to be deflowered. She was going to use him until he squealed.
She pulled Sam into bed and devoured him like a hungry lion on an antelope. The night was like a second honeymoon; except this time, she was the aggressor. She took the initiative in their love making. Sam was overwhelmed with her aggressiveness; he felt like a shy bride giving up her virginity for the first time.
Sam woke a little groggy but very happy. He woke Beth with a chaste kiss on the lips. She sat up throwing off the blanket, her bare breasts covered in love bites from the night’s sexathon.
Sam watched as she rushed to the bathroom and hopped into the shower. He remained in bed, in the light of day, his insecurities returned.
While Beth was getting dressed for work, Sam questioned, "Beth is there's enough time to teach me to look and behave like an authentic woman?"
Beth leaned forward to look Sam directly in the eye.
"Yes, I am sure it's possible. We’ll start tonight and get you ready to join me next Monday morning. However, for this to work ... for this to really work ... we are going to have put in a lot of effort. A really lot."
Her face settled into a grim mask. Her voice was humorless as she spoke, “Missy, I used the word WE but in truth the burden of the preparation will rest on your shoulders. I will help but you need to make the commitment. Are you ready to submerse your maleness for the foreseeable future? There can’t be any bouncing back and forth between Sam and Melissa. For this to work you have to not only look like Melissa, but live the life of a woman full time outside of the house. If you want to continue being Missy at home, I would love it, but the decisions will be yours.”
The silence between them hung thick. Sam gave it some serious thought before answering, “Yes dear, I put myself totally in your hands. You see before you Mrs. Melissa Williams.”
Beth smiled triumphantly, “Great! However, if you remember you left me your wedding ring and I plan on keeping it. Your name tag will read simply Ms. Melissa. I will be the only Mrs. on the staff. If you have an issue with that let's clear it up now.”
“No dear, that is fine with me.”
@@@@
For the next week, Beth put her Melissa through a womanly bootcamp. They covered everything from deportment, hair, and makeup, to bathroom etiquette, which got Sam’s attention when she discussed how he was to handle his monthly. He perfected his mannerisms and learned to fix his hair and makeup with only minimum help and advice from Beth.
To Sam, it was hopeless. The clothing was soft and frilly. Sensual and teasing him in all the ways he loved the most. Tickling him until he finally was forced to give in. Touch it. Embrace it. Love it. The problem was that the longer it went on, the less womanly he felt, rather he began to think of himself as a weak-willed Sissy.
He was worn out...broken down. He could no longer fight it. He was forced by something very deep inside of himself to admit the truth. He loved it...he loved it all! He wasn’t doing this for Beth he was doing it for himself. Like the petals of a flower just beginning to open, the feelings inside of him started to change and grow. Very slowly at first, then they began rushing faster and faster. Joy! It filled every part of his body, every part of his soul... until now he wanted to skip and laugh and do anything Beth asked, even wear that damn tampon when his nonexistent monthly magically appeared. He could enjoy all the wonderful sensations that it all brought to him without any reservations or guilt. He felt like a real woman!
Sunday night was there before he knew it. Sam rolled onto his side and tried to fall asleep. Sam wiped the sweat off his brow as he tried to put all the potential dangers of the coming day out of his mind.
He watched the hours tick away on his alarm clock as he tried desperately to fall asleep. Sam had never had trouble sleeping and could not help but fear that he would be sleep deprived for his first day in a dress.
Dress to impress but not to seduce. Sam, following Beth’s advice, had selected a light grey pencil skirt, a sleeveless cable knit crew neck sweater and a pair of black, rounded toe, patent leather high stiletto pump heeled sandals with a block four-inch heel for his first day in his new position. He laid it all out to save time in the morning.
Monday morning arrived bright and warm. Melissa got up two hours early to ensure he looked his best. The breast forms glued to his chest felt heavy and bulky. They were proving to be a nuisance. They were way too inconvenient underneath his nightie top. They hung from his chest, rather than stick out proud and firm. Beth told him he was a mature woman, not a young woman. She selected and glued teardrop forms that hung down uncomfortably. Without the support of a good firm bra, they almost reached halfway to his navel. He was disappointed he couldn’t wear flimsy, sexy bras. He found the only way he could get the needed lift and support was to wear an underwire ultra-lift support bra. To him, they were a throwback to his grandmother’s bustier. If he was destined to wear vintage lingerie, what he would prefer it was a bra that gave him a busty sweater girl look. His favorite would be a bullet bra accompanied by an open bottom girdle. To his disappointment Beth insisted he give the appearance a mature matronly woman.
His stomach turned squeamish at the thought of the fact that he was going to be out in the world, working as Beth’s assistant. He headed to the bathroom, where he did his business and took a shower and did a quick shave. He headed to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. Once it was brewed, he sat down and sipped the hot liquid, but it did nothing to calm the burning fear that was running through his gut.
Beth was wide awake. She couldn't sleep. And it was early! Okay, she didn't feel all that great, but that was just her period. She was accustomed to that. The problem was that she couldn't get her mind off of Sam this morning, it would be his first day out of the house as her shop assistant. She was sure he would look and act the part. The last week had worked better than she could have imagined. Sam/Missy performed everything she demanded. It was like she had a puppet on a string, her main concern was keeping him from using his old male voice.
"Are you ready for your big day?" Beth called out from the bedroom.
"Yes, Mrs. Williams.” He answered.
"Good, I'll be right there. She bounded into the kitchen and stood there glaring at him in his nightie.
Sam almost wilted under her gaze. He felt unusually uncomfortable standing in front of her dressed as he was.
She studied him his hair was still wet and a mess from where he had just washed it, but otherwise he looked clean... and clean shaven. Speaking of which... "Let's go to your bathroom, Missy. I need to check to make sure you didn't miss anything today."
She was already walking off. He followed quickly behind her.
As Beth walked into the bathroom, "Okay, Missy. Let me see you." He removed his nightie and she had him turn slowly around while she inspected him critically all over, including his arm pits. She stopped him at one point and grabbed his razor from the counter. Then she ran it lightly over his back where he couldn't reach properly. Overall, he had done a good job of keeping himself well shaven. She was pleased.
He sat down and the vanity to do something with his hair. Before he was finished, Beth came out all dressed for work. Sam thought she looked particularly nice today in the skirted business suit she had selected.
Once he was dressed in the outfit he had laid out, Beth stood back and examined Missy painstakingly. She had one hand on her hip, the other raised to her chin, a quizzical look on her face. She uttered, “There is something missing, what can it be? I know you need some jewelry.”
She went to her dresser and opened her jewelry box and withdrew a single strand of pearls that her mother had given her on her wedding day.
"I want you sensual an elegant but not trashy, how does that sound?"
He had the 'kid in a candy store' look on his face as Beth explained, “I want Missy to wear makeup that makes her look like a mature woman, not a clown or a tramp. That means no sparkly eyeshadow. No piercings except one in each ear. No pictures on her nails. No purple streaks in her hair. Just several coats of scarlet polish on a rounded nail which would have made Princess Grace proud. Missy, the moment you step out that front door you are a middle-aged woman. I expect you to look and act like one. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Beth perfectly.”
“Missy, that form of familiarity will not be tolerated from a mere shop girl, especially one on probation!”
“Yes Mrs. Williams, sorry it will never happen again.”
“It better not or we are going to have an issue.”
Sam was taken back by the intensity of her attack. It was obvious she viewed Missy as nothing more than an employee. The bottom of the totem pole.
Despite a week of makeup tutorials, he wasn’t ready to solo on his own. She sat Missy down at her makeup station. She applied foundation. His face was a smooth cameo cream canvas. His brows were shaped into a well-defined womanly arc above his blue and gray shadowed eyes.
She gave Missy a good look. Breathtaking, she exclaimed! Her ash blonde hair was a symphony of curls which reached to her shoulders and caressed the alabaster skin above her crew neck sweater. She was a vision of femininity, a true woman. Ready for her first day as a shop assistant. Attractive without being over the top."
Sam blushed under the compliment. He stood up straight and posed on his heels. His heart was racing unsure of his decision. “Beth I am not sure I can do this.”
Beth said “Nonsense you look wonderful, just keep telling yourself you are an attractive middle-aged woman and remember your department lessons. Everyone will continue to treat you as a woman for as long as you acted as someone who maintains a feminine persona.
Together they drove to Beth’s shop.
On the drive in, neither spoke each lost in their own thought.
Sam was envisioning a lifetime of dressing and living a life as a passable woman.
Beth stole a sideway glace at her husband, fidgeting nervously in his seat, she thought, ‘The poor sap thinks he is a transvestite living out his life’s dream. It is my campaign to get him to stop seeing himself with his head and to use his heart to realize he is a woman.’ As she pulled up to a stoplight she started at his profile and wondered, ‘Is it possible I can turn him into another Paula gigantic boobs and all?'