The Offer Part 1
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Part 1 The Offer, Regrets?
I apologize for any spelling mistakes or incorrect grammar.
It has been checked quickly, but may not be perfect.
A lifelong crossdressers is offered the chance to move in with a man as a full
time housewife. Does he regret it.?
This is an ongoing work. I have 3 more parts to upload.
She lay on her side, in their queen size bed. She gazed at the clock,
5.30 A.M. She would have 30 minutes to relax before she got up and made
Ron's breakfast.
She just started to doze off when she felt his arm reach round. His hand
rested on her right breast and his fingers gently rubbed her nipple
through the short filmy black baby-doll. He slid across the bed to spoon
her. She felt his hardness pushing against the back of her knickers.
"I know what comes next," she thought. His other hand rubbed her ruffled
panties a few times, then pulled them down a little to expose her
bottom. His hand gripped her right buttock and squeezed. She could hear
his breathing became deeper and harder. It wasn't the only thing getting
harder.
His index finger slipped inside easily. She was still wet from last
night, he had been very enthusiastic, she was surprised he was still
horny after only 5 hours.
It had been the anniversary of her moving in, he had bought home the
baby-doll and some flowers.
She had dressed in a 50's style flower print dress. She wore a tight,
white panti-girdle, a bullet bra and a frilly net petticoat. The
petticoat held the dress away from her legs and tickled as she flitted
around the kitchen.
When he arrived home he had seen her in the kitchen bending over to
check the oven. He had whistled when he saw the sea of frothy lace
beneath her skirt. He couldn't resist her.
As she went to the sink he ran his hands all over her body exploring her
bottom and finishing on her breasts.
"Come on, save it for later, or the dinner will be ruined," she had said.
She had him cooked his favorite dinner of roast lamb. After dinner they
sat and watched T.V. His arms were around her shoulders pulling her to
his eager mouth. He had placed her hand on the bulge in his trousers.
After a few minutes of rubbing she opened his fly.
Within seconds her hand enclosed his hard member. She saw her hand with
its pink polished nails sliding up and down his cock. He slowly pushed
her off the sofa and onto the floor. She arranged her skirt and got
between his legs. Using the tip of her tongue and traced the length of
his cock. When she got to the top she engulfed him. She knew how to use
her tongue to bring him to a quick climax.
He look down and saw her ruby red lips around his cock, the white heels,
seamed stocking disappearing into the white lace. "Perfect," he
thought.
He could hold on no longer. She felt him swelling, then he exploded.
Ron let out a sigh, "thanks that was beautiful, like you." He helped her
to her feet, she nearly stumbled as her heel caught on the carpet. Ron
liked to see her in heels even in their house. He caught her in his
strong arms and said;
"You have got me so turned on, I want to finish this upstairs."
He carried her to the bedroom. She was a little over 5ft ,
he was over 6ft.
His large imposing frame was one of the things that had first
attracted her when she saw him on the dating site. He made her feel
small and feminine.
"I'm not finished with you yet honey, that was just a warm up."
"What about the washing up?" she said.
"It will still be there in the morning dear, you are such a house proud
wife"
They both showered and got ready for bed. She changed into the baby-
doll. He was ready and standing to attention when she came out of the
bathroom. She took her time and teased him until he could stand it no
more and roughly pushed her onto her back.
He took total control and pulled her legs up and apart. Her backside
came into contact with his hard member. He positioned her legs over his
shoulders and worked the back of the lacy knickers up her legs a little
and slowly pushed into her. She let out a soft moan as he smoothly slid
in.
She had made sure she was properly "lubed" before she came to bed. At
first he was gentle, but slowly built to frenzy. She felt his cock
expands and pump its warm fluid deep inside. They lay together panting,
then drifted off to sleep.
That was last night, now he just wanted a quickie.
He pushed her onto her front and straddled her. He lined himself up and
slid in smoothly. She let out a small yelp. It still hurt when he went
all the way in that quickly. She felt her small cock rub against the
front of her knickers.
She knew this would not be enough to make her come. Ron did not like it
when she touched herself there. He only liked "gurls", but he did not
like playing with their "extra bits." Occasionally he run his hand over
her crotch just to make sure it was there, but nothing more.
She thought Ron's major turn on was forcing a man act and live like a
woman, this is what really drove him. He always made sure her underwear
covered her "front."
He built up a rhythm, they we both bouncing faster as he piled into her.
She enjoyed his attentions, but missed being able to come during sex.
This is what a good wife does, she thought, please her husband. He
certainly sounded pleased as he released inside her.
She wondered how many real women went through this. How many used the
washing machine or a vibrator to orgasm when hubby was at work.
She may get time when alone later to take care of her needs.
"You stay there and relax, I'll grab breakfast on my way to work," he
said, heading for the shower. Later he kissed her goodbye and headed out.
She lay there and dozed off for an hour. When she woke she stripped the
baby-doll off. Those knickers are going to need a soak she thought, as
she ran her bath.
She looked at her body in the mirror. Her shoulder length ginger hair, a
very expensive wig, glued to her head. The glue lasted at least 3
months. Ron paid for it; he had a thing for red heads. She saw the swell
of her small breasts, only a B cup really. She had been taking the
black market female hormones for a year now. Her hips had put on extra
fat and her skin had softened. Even her face seemed more female now.
She rarely got any strange looks while shopping now.
Her small 3 inch penis and shriveled sack looked wrong. She asked Ron
about "going all the way." Ron said, "If you want that you can leave."
He did offer to pay for breast implants though.
What Ron wanted he got. When he offered her, her dream of being a
housewife, she never realized how life changing it would be. She had
been a crossdresser all her life. Her wife left because of it. Her
fantasy was to be what she saw as the pinnacle of femininity, a
submissive housewife. Looking and dressing pretty at all times for her
"man."
She meet Ron, and after 2 dates and a long weekend, he had asked her to
move in. She was broke and living in a bedsit. Her divorce had cleaned
her out. So Ron's offer was the perfect solution. Live full time as a
woman, with no bills. Ron would help her become what she dreamed of
being.
The offer, became real when Ron helped her move. He made her throw all
her male clothes and belongings away. All she had was her female clothes
and what she was dressed in. Back at Ron's flat he made her change and
threw her last male clothes away.
They both sat down and spent the rest of the day ordering corsets,
lingerie, dresses, skirts tops, makeup and shoes. Well it was all Ron's
choices really. No leggings or trousers. No tights, stockings only.
Shoes and boots with at least 3 inch heels. She realized what she was in
for when he started looking at 1950's clothing. He ordered girdles and
bullet bras, and petticoats. He even ordered a French maids outfit and
a nurse’s uniform. He had been looking at school girl and show girl
outfits recently. She knew these would be introduced to their bedroom
"games," soon.
As she let the warm water of the bath wake her up, she thought about what
she would be doing today. Cleaning, dusting, washing, ironing, cooking
and shopping.
She slowly dressed, a black basque and silk French knickers. Black
stockings and ankle boots. Then a dark brown knee length dress. After
her makeup, she finished her look off with dark blue silk scarf.
She went to the kitchen and stated the washing up. Then it struck her,
the reality of the offer. She was trapped, she had no money, no where
else to live, not even any men's clothes.
She was trapped in a life of makeup, high heels, perfume, women's
magazines, washing, cleaning and getting used by her husband for sex
whenever or however he chose.
She used to worry about wages, bills, promotion, cars and hair loss. Now
her worries were what to cook for dinner, what to wear, ladders in
stockings or chipping a nail.
As she walked about the flat getting ready to go to the shops, she
wondered if the offer was worth it. Giving up all she had as a guy for
this like.
Walking to the shop she felt her silk knickers caress her cock and
backside as she moved She felt her suspenders tug against her stockings,
smelt her perfume and heard the click of her heels. She felt so
sensual.
Men don't get to feel this!
As she passed a building site, she was wolf whistled. Then she heard a shout,
"I'd give you one darling"
Rude, she thought, but smiled anyway.
"Was the offer worth it?" "You bet your bloody life it was!"
She loved her new life.
The Offer Part 2 Shopping and Spanking
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I apologize for any spelling mistakes or incorrect grammar.
It has been checked quickly, but may not be perfect.
A lifelong crossdresser is offered the chance to move in with a man as a full
time housewife.
The Offer Part 2 Shopping and Spanking
As she approached the supermarket she felt a tightness in her chest.
Fear still gripped her every time she entered a place full of people.
She was confident of being out when she walked past and only got looked
at briefly, but inside when people had more time to look she was in fear
of being "read."
She hitched her handbag back over her shoulder and took a trolley and
went through the sliding door.
It was 10A.M., the shop was not too busy, mostly housewives doing their
shopping and a few older men.
In the enclosed space she could smell her perfume, Charlie, she hoped
she hadn't overdone it.
She was not dressed like a tart or a drag queen, just nice and normal.
Not slobbish as many women dress now when shopping. She hoped she did
not stand out.
As she went through the aisles she picked up the vegetables and
ingredients she would need for a boeuf bourguignon. She noticed one of
the older male shoppers was looking at her legs, You could not see much
of them as her boots we knee length and the skirt was knee length.
She was wearing a white slip, the lace edge showed sometimes as she
walked. She loved this look, when she was younger she would lust after
Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac, when she used to dress this way.
She decided to give him a show, and bent over at the waist to pick a tin
from a low shelf, her skirt rose up at the back, giving him a nice view
of her seamed stockings framed in the white silk and lace of her slip.
She looked back over her shoulder and the man, eyes wide quickly turned
away, his face growing red.
Oh this felt so naughty, this was another thing that she could never do
as a guy.
She arrived at the clothing isle. She always got a thrill looking at the
underwear section. She used to glance at it when she was a man. Now she
could stand there and feel the fabric and hold them up and inspect
them.
There was a younger woman looking at bras. She saw they had a new range
of lace knickers in. They were in red, white and black. She knew she
would have to get the black ones. Ron loved her in black undies. She
felt the lace material, it was fairly soft. She had some lace underwear
that was cheap and scratchy. These were much nicer.
The young lady said, "Excuse me," and smiled as she pushed passed.
No trace of surprise or hostility. She had passed a "close encounter." This
filled her with confidence and made her feel more relaxed.
She needed the toilet, so she left her trolley outside and pushed the
door open. Using women's toilets were another source of fear, even after
a year of doing it. Of the three stalls, one was occupied. She went to the
far one.
She hung her handbag over the hook, raised her skirt and lowered
her knickers to her knees.
As she sat she could hear the woman in the other stall start to
"tinkle." As her plumbing was different she used to fear that she would
get noticed as she did not quite make the same sound as a "real" woman
did peeing.
She made sure she wiped, and carefully made sure no lumps showed in her
knickers before she dropped her skirt. After flushing she washed her
hands as the woman from the other stall was there brushing her hair.
"Bloody windy out there today," the woman said.
"Yes, I know, the wrong day to wear a skirt."
"Looks nice though, I love your look."
"Thank, must rush."
She exited the toilet feeling wonderful.
As she waited at in line at the checkout she looked around at the other
women. They were dressed in a mixture of ways. The younger ones in leggings or jeans, the older in dresses or slacks.
She was just like them, just another woman shopping.
This made her aware again of her clothing. As she shifted from one
foot to another, she felt her smooth stockings on her feet. Much nicer
than socks. She was aware of the lace edge of her silk knickers slightly
tickling her thighs. Did all the other women feel this way?
Arriving home twenty minutes later she put the shopping away and started
preparing the meal.
Ron came home while she was chopping vegetables. He put his right arm on
her right breast, while his left caressed he buttocks.
"Come on Debbie, upstairs now! I've been thinking about fucking you all
day."
"Not bloody now, I'm half way through making dinner!"
She pulled away.
She hated when he got like this, normally she felt quite submissive, but
she felt moody today.
"What did you say to me!" he shouted.
She froze, he had rarely ever shouted at her. He yanked her out of the
kitchen and into the living room and pushed her onto the sofa.
She started to tear up.
"S-s-sorry."
"No, you don't ever talk to me like that. I don't know if it's the
hormones, but you need to learn who is in charge in this house."
He sat next to her and dragged her over his lap.
"Don't you dare move!"
She felt him raise her skirt, his hand rubbing her buttocks through the
silk knickers. She felt his hard cock push into her stomach.
"Who pays for this lovely underwear?"
Slap
"You do."
Slap
These were not play slap this was a real spanking, she started to sob.
"Who makes all the discussions?"
Slap
"Y-you do."
Slap
"Who wears the pants?"
Slap
"You wear the p-pants."
Slap
"What do you wear?"
He paused waiting for her answer.
"I wear f-frilly knickers, panties."
"So who is in charge? Who is the man of the house and who is the
housewife?"
"You're the man Ron, I'm just the housewife. You’re in charge."
She could feel he was rock hard now, this had really turned him on. She
hoped it did not become an a regular "thing."
"Upstairs now!"
She hurried upstairs, with Ron close behind.
She started to get undressed, but he said,
"No leave it, get on the bed."
This was not going to be love making, he was so turned on he was going
to just fuck her.
He removed his underwear and his erection looked even larger than
normal. She panicked when she thought he was going to use her "dry."
Ron reached in the draw for the lubrication, squeezed a dollop on his
hand and coated his cock. He then grabbed both heels of her boots and
pulled them high and wide, exposing her French knickers.
Without pausing he thrust into her through the leg hole of her knickers.
"Ooohhhh," she screamed.
It hurt, she was normally prepared and ready. This was just him desperate to fuck her.
Ron drew back and pounded hard again.
"Uhhh,"
She let out a cry of pain.
Ron started to get into a rhythm. He pushed her legs over his shoulders
as he pounded her. She looked in his eyes, he was looking at her
intently. This was pure dominance showing her who was in charge.
As he sped up she felt something she had never felt before, looking at
her legs in her stockings and high heeled boots, wiggling as he drove
into her. She felt something building and spreading through he body.
She came for the first time in her life without touching her cock!.
Ron grunted and she felt him come inside her. He collapsed on top of her.
"I'm hungry, go put dinner on."
"I'll just change."
"No you just go as you are."
"Yes Ron, you're the boss."
On shaky legs she slowly went back to the kitchen. As she prepared the
food she could feel Ron's warm deposit dripping down her legs. She felt
satisfied, dirty, sexy, desired, but also abused. Was this what she wanted?
She wondered as she stirred the stock, how many of the other women in
the supermarket felt like this.
The Offer Part 3 A Woman's Reality?
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The Offer Part 3 A Woman's Reality?
I have proof read this, but there may be some mistakes. Please forgive these.
The formatting seems to have gone strange. The preview looks fine , but it is giving narrow paragraphs.
I will try to fix it.
That night in bed, he was energetic with her again. She lay there,
Feeling sorry for herself.
"I can see I'm going to have to remind you what you are more often"
He rolled off her and dozed off.
She lay awake wondering what he meant.
In the morning it was business as usual. She got up, had a quick shower,did her makeup and got his breakfast and coffee.
As he was about to leave she asked what he wanted for dinner tonight. Ron had said not to worry as he was taking her to the pub for dinner. He kissed her and left.
She stood there with her heart pounding. She was still not secure in her role and appearance as a woman. It was one thing going to a supermarket, but a pub full of men and women, scrutinizing her.
She felt as though she was about to have a panic attack. She knew she would have to try very hard. She could not go overboard with her look.
The makeup would have to be enough to make her look feminine,but not enough to look over the top. Her clothes would have to look "nice", but
not too sexy. Just an average housewife, with her hubby.
Later that afternoon Ron rang her.
"Be ready when I get home, I know how long you bloody women take to get ready. Probably takes you an hour to decide which nail polish to use."
He laughed.
"Be ready to go when I get back at six".
She decided a black corset-style basque. She needed to help her figure as curvy as she could. She wore her tight black lace knickers, and barely black stockings. It was warm, a little hot for stockings, but she hated the freckles on her legs and did not want to draw attention to them.
Next came the black summer dress. It covered her shoulders and ended in cap sleeves. It had a double tiered skirt, which gave her the appearance of having a bigger bottom. It almost reminded her of the Ra-Ra skirts she used to be so jealous of when she saw girls wearing them
growing up.
Lastly she put on her black three inch, open-toed strappy sandals. Sandals with stockings? A fashion no-no? Sometimes she hated that she had
to think about stuff like this.
An hour later Ron walked through the front door. He ran straight upstairs and came down after just changing his shirt for a tee-shirt.
What the hell, she thought. It took me two hours to get ready, and he took five minutes.
"Come on woman, get that cute little arse into the car."
She nearly forgot her handbag and had to go back to get it.
Ron waited impatiently with the door open. As she bent to put her bag on the floor, she felt a hard slap on her bottom.
"Owww"
She turned round, furious.
"Stop moaning, you know you love it"
He said,winking at her.
A passing stranger laughed out loud. She was flushed with anger, not that it would show under her heavy makeup.
They drove to their local Harvester Pub and tried to find a parking space. After a short while they gave up and had to park nearly half a mile
away in a multi-storey car park.
"Come on Debbie, keep up"
She was trotting behind him try to keep pace with his large easy stride.
She heard her heels clip-clopping and worried about tripping. If she fell, her stockings would be ruined! If she broke into sweat her makeup
would be ruined.
Before she had agreed to live full time, she would never have thought about all these problems women have just trying to stay looking nice.
She thought about how inconsiderate men could be. She wondered if she was like that when she was dating women.
Ron took her hand and practically dragged her along the street.
"What's the hurry?"
She said, panting now.
"We're meeting Dave at 6.30" said Ron.
She felt her breath catch in her throat. She had briefly meet Dave before. He was typical geezer, a sexist pig.
The prospect of an evening in his company was appalling. Would he be able to tell she wasn’t a woman?
When they arrived she was glowing . Ladies glowed, men sweated she thought ironically.
"I need the Ladies please"
She said to the waiter, as he showed them to their table.
She glanced at Dave, who was already sitting down, He leered at her. She thought she would like to punch him in his smug face, but ladies didn't
do that sort of thing. Instead she just hurried off to the toilet.
She heard the tell-tale tinkle from one of the cubicles. Rather than engage in conversation, she thought, she would have a quick tinkle herself.
She waited until she heard the door close and went out to wash her hands and fix her makeup. The room was carpeted and smelled fairly fresh.
That was one thing she did not miss. Men's toilets often stank. Some guys seemed to not care where they sprayed. Typical men, she giggled.
Her mood improved as she saw her reflection; she saw an average-to- pretty woman looking back. No trace of "guy" here.
As she moved towards the table, Dave and Ron stood, a nice gesture, she thought. Dave leant in and kissed her, his hand doing a quick grope of
her right arse cheek and leg. Ron was sitting back down as this happened, so missed it.
Dave sat and winked at her. After a few minutes of polite meaningless conversation the waiter arrived.
"What would you like to drink?"
She started to answer, but Ron spoke over her.
"A pint of bitter for me, cider for Dave and she'll have a dry white wine"
Inside she was fuming. Did she not matter? Was she a child who couldn’t e trusted to order her own drink?
It got worse as he took the food order. Dave and Ron had steak, and Ron ordered a salad for her.
"Got to watch her figure, or I'll have to trade her in for a younger model"
The waiter smiled awkwardly and left.
Dave smiled, and leered at her.
"I'll watch her figure if you like, you're a lucky man, Ron"
“She needs to lose a few pounds, but, she scrubs up well"
Ron winked at her.
Dave looked her up and down.
“I like something to get hold of in bed, She’s just my type.”
This, somehow made her feel worse. She thought Ron cared for her. Now with another guy around, she just felt like a piece of property.
The subject turned to football.
"What do you think of England's chance in the Euros?"
Dave asked.
She could not help herself. As a guy she was an avid football fan. She did still follow the results, just not when Ron was around.
"I think if they keep rotating the squad it should keep the players fresh for the harder games."
They both stared at her, then burst out laughing.
"Rotating the squad, do you think they are ballet dancers spinning around?"
Dave grinned, as if it was actually a funny remark.
"Women! Ha!"
Ron looked at her and said.
"If we want an opinion on knitting or wallpaper, we will ask for it, babe. What do women know about football?"
Then he blew her a kiss.
So not only was she seen as a child, her opinions counted for nothing. She thought back to the woefully few dates she had as a man. She did
treat her dates in the same way to some extent. Her only thought then was the quickest way into their knickers.
Now she was the one in the knickers. She saw it all from the other side of the fence.
Perhaps it was just Ron, he loved her in 1950’s clothes, perhaps that’s where his attitude to women came from?
The waiter brought the food and drink and the conversation paused. Mostly she was ignored. She thought she was just there to look pretty,
an ornament to show off to Dave.
Ron stood and looked around.
"I'll get us another round, I'm not waiting for that slow bloody waiter"
She was alone with Dave. He reached under the table and rubbed her upper thigh.
"Oh, wow, suspenders. I love a woman in stockings they frame the bit you want to get to perfectly"
He would be in for a shock if he saw what my stockings framed, she thought.
"Please take your hands off me, Dave"
She said, a little too loudly.
His hand was removed quickly; he looked around to see if Ron had heard.
"I'm sorry, but I find you so sexy. If you get tired of Ron give me a call"
Trying to steal his friend's woman, he really was a piece of work.
Ron returned with the drinks; another dry white wine for her. She really liked the look of Ron's pint. That was out of the question though. She was stuck with little feminine drinks.
She sat and listened to their conversation about work. She had no interest in that. She felt the breeze from the open door lift the hem of her skirt. She quickly pushed it down and wriggled in her seat. Her stockings rubbed together and made a zipping sound.
Dave stopped talking and glanced over as Ron got up and went to pay the bill at the bar .
Debbie stood, turned away from Dave and deliberately bent at the waist thrusting her bottom towards him. As she turned she saw him sit
quickly and fiddle with the front of his trousers.
She was ignored and treated like a child, yet she had the power to turn him into a slobbering idiot. What a strange feeling this was.
Powerless, yet powerful.
"Come on babe, we have a long walk back to the car, or a long trot for you."
Ron said.
"I'll give you a lift if you want, I'm parked in the car park here"
Dave offered.
"Thanks Dave, not sure if the old girl's ankles could stand the walk, she's such a delicate little thing"
Dave had a two door car, and they made Debbie get into the back. They arrived at the car park in a few minutes. Both the men got out and
started chatting as Debbie struggled to push the front seat out of the way while holding her handbag.
Her heel caught in the seatbelt and she fell forward, exposing herself completely. She quickly covered her knickers with her dress. Had Dave seen? She was well tucked, but she couldn't be sure.
Dave helped her to her feet.
Ron just laughed cruelly
“Are you a little drunk, woman? Better get you home before you make a fool of yourself."
"You're a lucky man, Ron, my ex would never wear stockings for me"
"She never wears tights mate, I don't let her"
"As I said mate, you are a lucky bastard"
"OK Dave, cheers for the lift, I'd better get her home and give her a good seeing to".
Ron grinned at Dave and they both climbed into Ron's car.
As they drove home Debbie wondered, do most women put up with this crap, or is it they don't realise? After all, she had been on both sides, so
she could see how unfair it was. Surely not all women had to put up with this?
Then again, she thought, she loved the power she could exert over men. She got a thrill when Ron dominated her. She felt so weak, but safe in his arms. She was so confused.
Should she try to leave him. How would she do it? She had nothing. She would have to take stock of her life. All she had really thought about for the last year was the sex and the wonderful clothes.
Perhaps she would feel better after she had had a "good seeing to"
The Offer Part 4
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I apologise in advanced for any grammar or spelling mistakes.
I have not been able to find royalty free clipart. I have been using
images of myself. Does anyone know a good source?
This is part 4 of the offer. Please read the other parts for the full
story. This part deals with Debbie, the full time "sissy housewife's,"
back story. From the first time she was forced to dress and perform
housework
The Offer part 4
Debbie sat in silence on the drive home. Ron had angered her and she
didn't know why he treated her like that. She thought Ron had drunk a
little too much to be driving, but knew he would bite her head off is she
said something.
Ron was first to break the silence.
"You know what? I think I want to fuck my maid tonight. Is that OK with
you sugar tits?"
More insults she thought. He liked her to dress sometimes for sex. The
maids costume was one of many he had ordered over the last year. She
hadn't worn it for him yet.
She had tried it on. It was a knee length black satin dress with puffy
lace trimmed sleeves. It was good quality, not the usual sex shop stuff.
It came with a full lace apron and cap. The main thing she liked was the
full net petticoat. She had a nice pair of white ruffled knickers to go
with it. She had always liked these. They looked like the tennis knickers
women used to wear.
"Please don't call me that," she said.
"OK babe, sorry, but the thought of you wearing that outfit is getting me
hard now. I'll have to think of something else, or we will have to pull
over and you will have to take care of me.
She hated the way she was at his beck and call for sex. Often she was
left unfulfilled. She took care of her needs when he wasn't around. Then
again she found idea of being subservient to a man a big turn on. Why did
she crave this?
Debbie thought back to when she was younger.
Andrew was an only child. He was desperate for attention from his
parents. His mother did the bare minimum for him. His father ignored him.
When he was 10 he woke up hearing a noise coming from his parent's
bedroom. He crept to the open door and stood back and watched.
His mother was dressed in frilly black underwear. She was sucking his
father's huge, hard penis. His father was moaning and telling her how
beautiful she was and how much he loved her.
Then his mother lay on the bed, while his father told her to "Get those
Knickers off now!"
He forced her legs apart and she yelped. He was rough and it looked like
he was hurting her. Andrew thought about shouting at his father, but
stopped as his mother was smiling.
His father pushed his penis into the hole between his mother's legs.
Andrew was surprised. He knew women and girls did not have a willy like
him, but he thought the hole was just for peeing.
Now in front of him he saw the real differences between boys and girls.
His mother was making noises like she was hurting, but also enjoying
herself. She was telling his father how much she loved him.
Andrew knew that as his willy was very small, he could not be like his
father. So perhaps he must look pretty like his mother to get love and
attention.
First he started wearing some of his mother's underwear from the laundry
basket. The knickers felt so soft, he knew he would keep doing it. Later
he tried a bra, it looked silly until he stuffed it with a few pairs of
dirty tights. The feel of the tights made him wonder what they would feel
like on his legs.
By the age of fourteen, he was dressing fully every time they left him
alone at home. He experimented with makeup and started to feel aroused
when dressing. His parents used to go out drinking several times a week.
They usually got home well after midnight. It seemed they were only
really happy when they were drunk. The only healthy part of the marriage
was their sex life.
At sixteen years old he was playing with himself on his parent's bed,
dressed in his mother black basque, lace top stockings, black thong and
high heeled boots. His parents walked in and all hell broke loose.
His mother slapped him, his father was screaming, calling him a "dirty
little poof" "fucking queer".
He ran to his bedroom and locked the door. He listened to the row that
carried on for hours. He heard his mother say "I never wanted him
anyway".
In the morning his father had left. His mother, who never really showed
him much affection, was even colder with him. She started to drink all
the time.
Andrew got a job at Mac Donald's and started to save so he could move
out. One Sunday morning he asked his mother why he did not have any clean
clothes. She screamed at him that he should learn how to do the laundry
himself as all he was going to be good for was to be someone's "Fucking
sissy little wife."
She came back into the room a few minutes later carrying a pair of old,
off white cotton knickers, bra and frayed flowered housedress.
"Put this on, you sissy, and I'll teach you how to do the housework like
a good little wifey," she spat at him.
Andrew, red faced did as he was told and spent the day learning to wash
clothes, iron and cook.
This became a regular occurrence whenever Andrew wasn't working. His
mother's scorn at seeing her son dressed as a woman, was overcome by
having him do the housework while she drunk herself into a stupor.
She never gave him nice clothes to wear; they were always old and plain.
Andrew had been letting his hair grow and shaving his sparse hair. One
Sunday his mother said.
"You really do look the part, don't you?" She went to her room and came
back with a realistic looking dildo and tried to shove it in his mouth.
"Here take this to bed tonight, suck it, and shove it up your arse.
That's what's going to happen to a little queer like you soon."
She laughed in his face and went back to her drink.
He knew he had to get out. In a strange way he knew he enjoyed his mother
making him wear her old clothes. He also knew he hated being treated as a
sick perverted slave.
When he told his mother he was leaving, all she said was, "Found yourself
some cock have you?"
He moved a short distance away from his job. It was a tiny bedsit he
could barely afford.
Over the next ten years he drifted from one dead end, low paid job to
another. With no prospects, no car and little cash, his life was very
dull. He tried his luck with women, but a broke, effeminate looking guy
does not get much female attention.
When he reached thirty the urge to crossdress re-surged. The little spare
cash he had was spent on sexy underwear, shoes, dresses and makeup.
In his mid thirties he decided to create a profile on a contact site, in
the name of Debbie36. He was amazed at the attention he got. Guys were
messaging him all the time. The massages ranged from polite to obscene.
He had fantasies about being a woman and having sex with a man, but never
thought it could actually happen. He met a few of the polite sounding
men. Always the meetings ended with him using his hands and mouth to
please the men. It seemed a fair exchange for the attention they gave
him.
Most of the men wanted to fuck him. He was always getting asked to do
this, and he started to come around to the idea. He practiced on himself
with various objects until he was comfortable. It did not turn him on too
much, but he knew it would make him even more popular.
At forty- one, he had been dressing as a woman at home doing his
housework in his tiny bedsit. He had a fantasy of being a "sissy wife".
The idea of living with a guy, being expected to take care of all his
needs was overwhelming. Living full time as a woman, constantly wearing
soft frilly, pretty clothes. Perfume, makeup and heels. Just the thought
almost drove him over the edge.
About that time Ron got in touch. Ron was forty-nine, tall with a huge
bear like frame. She felt so soft and girly with him.
She had told Ron of her fantasy, and Ron offered to make it reality. This
is when he made her the offer.
Every part her male life had to go. All her accounts were closed and her
male possessions were thrown away. All she would have left is her driver's
licence and her NHS card. She would need these in case she needed medical
treatment.
That was just over a year ago. Now she realised that she was as good as
trapped in the life of a middle aged wife. The masochistic part of her
was thrilled, but deep down she felt she was being used rather than
valued and loved.
The car pulled up outside their flat. Ron walked around and opened the
door for her.
"Come on darling, I'm looking forward to this," he said.
More to come