The Gift free porn video

The Gift By Alamo Preacher This is an adult story with some strong sexual content. It is not intended for and should not be read by minors. It is also not intended for anyone who believes that men are men, women are women and that's the way things should always be. It is concerned with themes of male transvestism, panty fetishism, male submission, female domination, including spanking, maid's uniforms and the like. It does not contain any cruelty, humiliation or any kind of violence beyond some light spanking. What the author would like to imagine makes it a little different to the usual fiction of this kind is that it deals with two people in a fairly normal, very loving relationship. It is also a lot longer than most stories of this kind, and as well as a lot of graphic sex, involves some pseudo-philosophical noodling and musing on sissy desires, voyeurism and the nature of a relationship. If you like this sort of thing you may enjoy this story, if not, then don't waste your time reading it. ************************** Part I : Caught at last. It had to happen sooner or later, and on reflection it was better that it happened sooner, though at the time, it certainly didn't feel like it. We were cleaning out the small spare bedroom, which had become a kind of dumping area for stuff that had yet to find a home, since our wedding six months before. I had returned from work to find Laura in the middle of reorganising the room, with everything pulled about, piles of gifts and clothes here, there and everywhere, and all the wardrobes and boxes opened and in a state of flux and confusion. As soon as I walked in on Laura, I offered to help. My heart was pounding and a cold sweat had broken out on my forehead, but Laura was so pleased to get a hand with the job, that I don't think she noticed. On the top shelf of one of the built-in units was a small sports bag. It contained my collection of undies. When I walked in, Laura was minutes away from discovering it. I had never considered myself a fully-fledged cross dresser. From an early age, as soon as I was aware of being sexually aroused by anything, I had a fondness for soft, silky panties and lingerie. The strange kink had never gone away, and when I was single I had acquired a small collection of silky underthings, pantyhose, a garter belt or two - and I would use them to masturbate with. Occasionally I'd wear them, and loved the feel of smooth nylon or satin next to my skin. Hand in hand with my fondness for wearing panties, I had a certain sexual submissiveness which some women found appealing and some a complete turn-off. I never revealed my fetish to anyone, though I'd had a few close shaves over the years. After a fairly normal series of relationships for a healthy, heterosexual young man, I'd eventually found someone who I wanted to share my life with forever. Laura was everything I'd ever longed for in a woman, and thoroughly gorgeous aswell. I could never understand what she saw in me, but she seemed to have fallen love with me too, and after a few years of living together, we'd decided to get married. While we lived together I had curtailed my fetish, more from fear of getting caught than anything else. Even though our lovemaking was fantastic, I still felt a need to beat off while wearing some panties and hose. I was terrified that Laura would find out, and so only ever indulged when there was no chance of getting caught. I'd thrown away my small collection of lingerie when we first moved in together, resolving to put all that behind me. But over the years together, I'd once again built up a small collection - some of her panties that I knew she wouldn't miss, a couple of pairs of pantyhose that I'd bought on impulse in out-of-town convenience stores - that sort of thing. All this was now in the sports bag on the shelf, only a couple of feet away from my new wife. I could picture the contents inside the bag like a ticking time bomb. Worst of all was the cami-set. This had been a wedding gift to Laura from her youngest aunt. She had modelled it for me on our honeymoon night and it had driven me wild. Even as we were making love I was imagining what the silky fabric would feel like to wear myself. As we lay together, basking in the afterglow of sex, I wondered what I would look like wearing the sissy panties, strapped cami-top and matching garter and suspenders. On the last day of the honeymoon, I hid the set in an already packed suitcase. Laura went frantic searching for them, bawling out the hotel staff, accusing them of losing them in the service wash or even stealing them. I kept quiet, but I was wracked with guilt and shame at my selfish, and impetuous act. Eventually, she had to give them up as lost and I promised to replace them - thinking that at least the silver lining to the incident was that I had an excuse to buy some new sexy underthings for Laura to wear when we got home. When we finally returned from the honeymoon, I made sure that the underwear I'd secreted in a suitcase among the laundry was transferred to my secret stash in the spare bedroom. They were fabulous, and I'd had a couple of opportunities since, to wear the whole set when Laura was out of town overnight. Now, of course, the whole thing was on the point of discovery. I suggested taking a break for coffee - planning to move the bag while Laura wasn't in the room, but Laura was determined to get that wardrobe sorted out before taking a break. I tried to get her to start on some other area, and I'd clear out the wardrobe, but she was half-way through the job, and instead, insisted I go fetch the stepladder to make reaching the top shelves easier. Here, at least was chance to put it off. I said I'd fetch the steps from the garage, and she could concentrate on the lower shelves. I hurried to get them, forming and rejecting plans in my mind for how I was going to get the bag out of the room. I decided that once I was on the steps handing her down the contents of the shelves I might have a chance to get away with the bag or to hide it. It wasn't to be. By the time I got back it was too late, and it was all over for my secret. Laura sat on the edge of the bed, her wedding lingerie in her hands, staring into the bag at her other missing panties, some missing for nearly three years, and some with obvious come- stains. She looked up at me with an expression of horror as I walked in, awkwardly putting down the ladder and finding myself at a loss for excuses or explanations. "Why?" she asked at last, holding up her beloved cami-set. I shrugged, I began to speak, and stopped, started again and stopped, and finally shrugged again. "All I can say is that I'm sorry Laura. Especially about that set, it was an impulse, but once I'd taken them I couldn't go back." "An impulse?" She shrieked. "These! These, I wore the first night we made love." She was holding up the oldest pair. Red nylon with lace, the first pair I'd taken. She hadn't worn them in a year at the time I'd stolen them. I'd thought she'd never miss them. "I had been keeping them as a momento of that night. I planned to wear them again when we were married, to remind us of how wonderful it was. I cried when I thought I'd lost them." She started to cry now, tears dripping onto the silky garments in her hands. I was wretched. I'd made Laura miserable. Seeing her crying tore at my heart. I hated myself for what I had done. In my panic I started to babble, anything to try and cover the terrible sound of Laura's sobs. "I want to explain, to make you understand. When I took them, all of them, I took them as momentoes of you. When you were away I'd.. I'd hold them to me." I skirted around what I'd actually done with the panties, which must have been obvious. "Hold them to you?" she asked contemptuously. "Hold them to you? Had a secret wank alone with them you mean. And what about these?" she said holding up one of the pairs of black pantyhose. "Where did these come from? Who are these a momento of?" She threw them at me with a sob. "Nobody, nobody. I bought them." I stammered. Bad as things were I didn't want Laura getting the wrong end of the stick about what was going on here. "I've never taken anyone's things but yours." As I said it, I realised how bad that sounded and I winced inwardly. Oddly it seemed to get through. Laura stopped crying for a moment. She looked puzzled, still sad and angry, but also puzzled and I was prepared to take any dilution of her terrible grief. "You bought them? Where? For who?" This was confusing, I thought she'd guessed more than she had. Now I had to spell it out, which was terribly embarrassing, but I steeled myself, trying to find some sort of penance in admitting my most terrible shame. "I bought them for me, nobody else. In a convenience store, somewhere out of town. I don't honestly remember exactly where." "Let me get this straight. You take my lingerie as a momento to masturbate with when I'm not here, but you also buy pantyhose in a convenience store? You must really have liked that store." In the midst of my terrible shame and sorrow this seemed like the funniest thing ever. I couldn't help but laugh, and to my amazement and delight Laura laughed too. But I wasn't out of the woods yet. I hadn't even seen the light through the trees. "Its nothing to do with the store. Its just that a man buying pantyhose in a gas station isn't that unusual. People assume his partner has asked him to pick up a pair. If I had the nerve, I'd have bought lingerie over the years too, but I could never get the courage to face the assistants in the shops." "I still don't understand" she interrupted. "If the pantyhose isn't a momento, then what is it for?" Here it was, the crux of my shame. I looked into her eyes. "To wear, Laura. I wear them." She looked at me as if seeing me for the first time. "You took my bridal lingerie. To wear. Yourself. Alone." "Yes" "And wank in?" This was twisting the knife I thought, but I deserved it. "Yes." Laura thought for a moment. Clearly she had a lot of questions. I waited. Actually she had only one. She looked me dead in the eyes. "Do you think of me when you're wearing my lingerie and jerking yourself off?" (She told me later that if I'd so much as hesitated when I answered this, then she would have left me there and then.) "Of course." I replied. To me, it seemed obvious. I loved her, I lusted for her, she filled my senses when she was there and my mind when we were apart. All this, it seemed, she could see in my eyes. "Well, that's all right then." She said with a smile. She gently folded the lingerie and to my dumbstruck amazement put it all back in the bag and handed it to me. "You can put this away till we find a better home for your things. Now, no more about it for the moment. Lets get this room sorted and then take a break." Later that evening we were sitting on the settee, too tired to watch TV. Just sitting quietly together. The room-tidying had taken hours in the end, and we'd worked without a break. Finally, we had a light supper and flopped down in the living room. I was in a daze. I was daring to hope that my fetish could be overlooked, and the sense of relief that it was now out in the open was wonderful, even though it was mixed with a real fear that there were minefields ahead. Laura was pensive. "So, you fantasise when you're wearing my lingerie and masturbating?" I grunted assent. Laura seemed to have no trouble using words that I would tiptoe around. "And you fantasise about me?" I agreed non-verbally again. "Do you fantasise that you are me?" This seemed ridiculous, but I supposed that Laura must be feeling her way into a part of my psyche that had been hidden from her before. My kinky secret, though shared by thousands of other men, must have seemed very strange to someone who'd never encountered it before. "No, no." I said, and then thought I'd better try to elaborate - rather than have it all drawn out like pulling teeth. "I fantasise that you are there with me, and we're making love, but I'm a man, and you are, well, you." I paused, she waited for me to continue. "We're together, but I'm wearing sexy lingerie. Actually, usually we both are." Laura sat up, she was paying close attention. I resolved that everything I said would have to be the truth. Lies and secrets seemed to have caused her the most pain, and I could do without any more of that. Ever. "Wearing the lingerie helps to create the fantasy." I said. I paused, that wasn't the whole truth either. "There's another side to it though. I like the feel of it. It's hard to describe. The satin and the nylon feel wonderful against my skin. I've always felt this, even before I met you." Laura broke in. "That part isn't hard to understand at all. I love the feel of lingerie too. Everyone does, including men. Its only not wanting to be thought a sissy, that prevents men from wearing panties." I winced at this theory, and glanced at her, but Laura seemed to be heading on a different tack. She didn't seem to want to humiliate me. "What am I doing in these fantasies?" she asked, innocently. 'Christ!' I thought, 'She should have been a lawyer, or a detective. She goes right to the heart of the matter in one step.' The different line of questioning was altogether more perilous than the panties one. However I'd resolved to tell the truth and I had to stick with it. "You're, ehh. Well, I suppose, you're doing different things." I gulped, biting the bullet. "I suppose a common theme is that you're in charge. You tell me what to do. We're making love, but you are telling me, showing me, how to please you." "Dominating you?" "Well yes." I wanted to be very clear about that point. "However, that word is often used to mean a kind of cruel domination, with leather, bondage, whips and the like. That's not what I fantasise about at all." She cocked an eyebrow. I had to be firmer. "Really, that's not what I imagine." "What do you imagine? We're together. I'm in my black nightie, you're in my, or your, bridal cami-set. What are you doing? What am I asking you to do? How do I ask, or tell?" Fuck. This was tough. "Well, to go down on you of course. To kiss your breasts. To rub skin cream into every part of your body. Whatever it is that would give you pleasure, though I suppose I don't always fantasise correctly about what you would want." I was getting lost here, I was skirting around something, and she could tell. "What do I call you when I'm asking you to do these things? A girls name? " "Yes, sometimes. Juliet." "Sissy?" I looked at her. If I could say this, then I could reveal anything to her. "My sissy." I managed to say without my voice breaking. "My sissy" she repeated with a smile, and again "My sissy". A huge grin broke out over her face, but she didn't seem to be laughing at me, in fact she seemed oddly pleased. The worst was over. She seemed to have come to a decision, and from what I could tell, it was in my favour. She became almost breezy. "The one thing I don't understand is why you didn't tell me all this ages ago. Don't say it would have been too difficult to break the ice. I remember our honeymoon night, and many other nights when I asked you to tell me your sexual fantasies, so we could act them out. You never came up with anything that sounded truthful. Did you think that I would throw a fit if you'd asked to wear my panties and have me instruct you how to pleasure me? I would have enjoyed it. You men and your secrets! Really!" Laura seemed to be prepared to leave it at that, but I knew that what she said, while true, was slightly off the mark. She was leaving me an escape, but if we were really going to make this marriage work she had to understand completely. "Laura, the thing is. This is more than a fantasy for me. I couldn't or wouldn't tell you because I didn't want you to think I was a, . a sissy." I got the word out again. Now for the hard part. "But I am a sissy, or I'd like to be, a sissy." It was my turn to lock eyes with her, and I did. As she regarded me, I realised that she'd known this from the beginning. I just had to be lead to place where I could admit it. She put her arms around me and kissed me. "I know. You're my sissy though, and that's all that matters to me. I love you, and I'm glad I found out your not-so-terrible secret. I feel closer to you than ever, and what's more, we're going to have so much fun in bed from now on. I've never felt more like having an obedient, faithful lover who'll attend to my every whim. In panties of course, but ones I give you rather than one's you've stolen. You still have a lot of making up to do for taking my things without asking me for permission to wear them. How's about we finish this wine in bed, and I can show you what I would like you to do for me?" That first night together - it felt like a first night to me as it was the first time I felt that I could open up to Laura about what I wanted - was wonderful. However, we were both a little unsure. In particular, I was very nervous, and while Laura encouraged me, I found it difficult to explain what it was that I found exciting. On the first nights we made love we fumbled rather awkwardly, but little by little, I was able to open up, and Laura seemed to change to a new more dominant role incredibly quickly, and with surprising enthusiasm. In fact, after that first night, I never really again had to explain anything to her, she very quickly turned all my furtive fantasies into a wonderful reality. Once in charge of our lovemaking and our relationship, she lead, and I followed happily. On that night, she lead me upstairs, and got me to strip and lie down on the bed, watching her. Then, she slowly undressed completely, watching me intently all the time. Then, very deliberately she selected a black silk and lace babydoll nightie, black panties, and a pair of grey hold-ups, which she drew sensuously over her body, finally slipping on a pair of dress heels. "Me first." She said when she was ready. Then she selected a white nylon slip, shiny white nylon panties, garter belt and opaque white stockings for me, and leaving them at the foot of the bed, lay down beside me. "Now you." This was the first time anyone had seen me in ladies underwear and I was nervous and embarrassed. I did not look like I did in my own fantasies, I was going to look like a man in panties - a sissy. I hesitated. "Look at me." Said Laura encouragingly, and so I looked at her, and she watched me, and I slowly got dressed in the shiny white outfit. Her eyes regarded me with an expression that I found difficult to describe. She wasn't judging or appraising me, but neither was she disinterested. She seemed to be looking into my mind, as if she could read my thoughts, and what she found there only she could understand. As long as I kept her gaze I could be neither frighted or embarrassed. Of course, I already had a raging hard-on from when Laura had started to undress, but Laura could sense my rising excitement from my breathing and the expression on my face. First I stooped and rolled up the stockings, pulling them over my legs to my thighs, hearing the elasticated top snap around my flesh as I let go. Then I fastened the garter belt around my waist. It was a high one about four inches and ribbed. I had to stretch the straps down to button them to the tops of the stockings, and as I straightened I felt it settle snugly around my waist and tug the tops of the stockings into a curve. Then, I pulled on the panties. I wondered distractedly if I was doing things in the wrong order, garter or panties first? As I pulled the panties up I realised that they were never going to cover my whole cock, they were just too skimpy. I pulled it up as far as I could, and though the panty was strong enough to bring my cock in snugly against my belly it still revealed a good inch and a half poking obscenely over the top of the lace around the waist. I picked up the slip, and rolling it in by hands, lifted it over my head and allowed it to fall about me. It was short, and came down only to my stocking tops. But thankfully covered up my panties and bulging erection. It was tailored around the waist and I felt it coolness swish deliciously around me as I moved to the bed. When I lay down beside her I found that Laura too, was getting aroused. "How do you like your panties now?" she asked. She ran her hands along my waist. I gulped. I could see a tiny damp spot on her panties, but it was to be some time before I got to pull them down. Laura wanted me to do everything for her, with very specific instructions. First, she wanted me to brush and put up her hair, rub cream into her arms, her legs, fetch some jewellery which she had a fancy to wear, and it all had to be done just so, just as she liked it. Her voice as she told me to do all these things was perfect, she neither ordered or requested, she simply told me what she wanted, as if it was the most natural thing in the world that I would do my utmost to please her, which of course, it was. She went on - which nipple to kiss, to caress, how to kiss and caress them, to remove some of her clothes, to remove items of mine. Eventually she asked if I wanted to pull down her panties. I eagerly said yes, and she moved me down so my head was just a few inches from the silkily fabric covering her hips and her sex. She rolled languorously on the bed, and my eyes followed her. "Do you like what you see my sissy Juliet?" she asked. "Yes, oh yes." I replied. "Does Juliet want to pull down my panties?" she teased again. "Yes, yes please, let me pull them down." She lifted her hips and I slowly pulled them down, revealing the dark triangle of her pubic mound. She lifter her legs and I carefully removed the tiny panties all the way and, as I had done with her other clothes, carefully folded them and put them aside. I looked back and Laura spread her legs, and raised her knees slightly. I gazed at her and then down between her legs. She raised herself a little and taking my head in her gentle hands, lowered my mouth to her wet pussy. Finally, I was eagerly lapping at her, being instructed exactly how she wanted it, and she encouraged me with little cries of "Good girl, good girl." I was in heaven. After she came several times, she rolled me over on my back, and rearing over me on her side, took my aching, purple member in her hand, with her black silky panties wrapped around it. She put her hand behind my head, and with her face just inches away from mine, staring into my eyes, began to very slowly pump me towards orgasm, all the while repeating. "I love my little sissy, I love my little sissy". When I came, my come shot all over her, onto her hand, arm, back, her hair, some even hitting the headboard of the bed, but she didn't flinch. When I'd finished she released me, and wordlessly, I got up, and fetching a handcloth from the bathroom, and a change of nightwear for her and myself, carefully cleaned her and the bed, and re-dressed her. Finally I lay down beside her, and took her in my arms. "Thank you" I said, completely at peace. She put her finger on my lips and replied, "No. Thank you." She said, and we slept Part II : The gift. And so began my new life with Laura. It wasn't all perfect straight away of course. We were both kind of unsure where we were or where we were going. And it wasn't all sex and panties either, normal life went on as before, but to me, everything was new and coloured by the fresh openness in our relationship. From the start Laura encouraged me to wear panties under my clothes, and that was a constant reminder. One big help in the early days was that I had a number of stories from internet femdom and crossdressing sites saved on my computer, and once I'd shown these to her, she read them enthusiastically. I was very nervous about showing her the sites where they came from, as many of the wilder fringes of femdom were not my scene at all, I had no interest in being tied up or whipped, and I didn't want Laura to think I wanted her to dress in studded leather either. I shouldn't have worried After a few questions about what stories or images I found exciting, Laura had my particular fantasy down to a tee. In retrospect this was only natural - though it was a clich, - she really did know me better that I knew myself. Over time, she began introducing new ideas into our lovemaking and our life. She showed me how to use makeup, how to dress properly, how to match colours, and most of all, how to please her, with little things. I learned that what she particularly liked was to have her wishes anticipated and I found myself constantly thinking "What would Laura like?" One thing she liked was for me to take a lot of care in my appearance. I had always been slim and had a fairly girlish build, and Laura wanted me to look as good as I could when dressed as a woman. I had fairly thin hair, and could usually go a couple of days without needing to shave, but Laura insisted I shave twice a day. After the very first night, I shaved my legs, and kept them silky smooth from then on. Laura also taught me a beauty regimen. I had to moisturise, and use face creams, hand creams, exfoliate twice a week and treat my hair with great care. She insisted that I start to wear my hair long, I wore a masculine ponytail when I went out, but indoors I had it out and flowing, or else folded and pinned up in a old-fashioned style. Laura could cut and style hair, and as well as giving me a variety of styles that she liked, taught me how to look after my hair and keep it shining and healthy. Anticipating Laura's wishes lead naturally to my taking on many of the household chores, and soon I was doing all the washing, washing up, cleaning the house, and doing a huge number of jobs around the house that I hadn't even realised that Laura used to do. At the same time, Laura took over some of the things I used to do or we used to do together. She took over the family finances and all the shopping. She rearranged the furniture as she liked it, and in the re-decorating we'd planned, she took all the decisions. In short, she was in charge, and I willingly followed where she lead. My work in the kitchen and around the house had an unforeseen but not entirely unwelcome side-effect. Laura had always been very fastidious in keeping the house clean and neat, and she expected the same high standards from me. Every evening after returning from work, she would spot check my cleaning, and if something wasn't up to scratch, I would get a ticking off, often quite a stern ticking off, that would leave my cheeks flushing red with shame and embarrassment. One evening, after a particularly stern scolding over folding my clothes properly Laura sighed with exasperation. "I don't think you're taking these duties at all seriously Juliet. Maybe you'd do a better job if you were dressed for the part? Hmmm?" I was puzzled, although I began to have an inkling of what she had in mind when she began flicking through one of her catalogues later that evening. "This is what I have in mind for you. " She said, holding up a picture of a maids outfit to show me. It was black satin, with a white pinafore, to be worn with sheer black pantyhose and accessories - a lace hair bow and frilly garters. I gulped, and was about to protest, until I realised there was no point. She knew only too well that I would adore to wear the outfit when I cleaned up and served her. She smiled a knowing smile as I remained silent. "Perhaps I should hold your sissy maid's outfit as a reward rather than a punishment? Hmmm, Juliet?" She knew me too well. That night, after I'd got into my night-gown and got into bed beside her, Laura rolled languidly over me and grasped my wrists in her hands, looking deep into my eyes. "Do you want to be my maid Juliette? Is that what you want?" She asked. I'd never seen her so predatory, or so strong before, my legs were weak, I trembled all over. I knew that she had me where I was most vulnerable, I loved her so much and this was all that I wanted. I shut my eyes, and involuntary tears squeezed out. "Yes", I choked out , "Oh God yes, I want it so much, please". "You'll have to start doing a better job in the kitchen, and serving me. I'll expect you to anticipate my every whim" she whispered. "If you're to be my maid, in your pretty uniform, you'll have to start really working at pleasing me properly" "I will, I will" I gasped, and I saw a smile flicker across her face. "I know you will darling." And she rolled onto her back, pulling my head down between her thighs, and firmly pushed my face into her crotch so that I could more fully show my love for her. The maid's outfit was ordered the next day, and for all the following week Laura teased me before heading off to work. "Do you think she'll come today? My new maid?" she'd ask with a laugh, the joke being the imminent arrival of the longed-for outfit, and the fact that I had been denied sex of any kind since the night we'd discussed the outfit. I was quivering in longing but had been expressly forbidden to masturbate when Laura wasn't there. I'd solemnly promised Laura that I wouldn't touch myself without her around. She'd explained that the one thing that had hurt her about my 'secret' was that I had felt unable to share it with her. She had said that she wanted to be part of my every fantasy, and that I wasn't to 'Sneak around, wanking alone' as she put it. When I'd told her how difficult I thought it would be to keep this promise, she got irritated with me. "Do you mean to say, that if I leave you alone for even an afternoon with your underwear, that you'll be unable to resist beating yourself off in the bathroom, even if I'm only gone for a few hours?" "I'll try to be good Laura." I said, "I want to do as you say, but before you knew about this, I could only get dressed when you were away, and the habit is hard to break". "You will break it, because now you know that soon I will be home to you, and then, once you've asked permission, you can jerk yourself off right here, in front of me. Though I would appreciate if you let me get my coat off and have a cup of coffee first" She added with a laugh. And so I had agreed that I would never again bring myself off without Laura watching and giving her approval. The morning, after we'd talked about the maid costume a thought seemed to occour to her as we ate breakfast together. "Have you been good?" she asked, out of the blue. I thought I knew what she meant, but feigned innocence. "Good in what way?" I asked, clearing away the breakfast things. "Have you been jerking off I mean, touching yourself, beating off, spanking the monkey, wanking?" I hadn't as it happened, but I wondered what had prompted her to ask right then, as I had been secretly planning to relieve myself as soon as she was gone that very morning. I hadn't come last night and the thought of the new maid costume that would arrive soon was driving me wild. Without waiting for an answer, Laura walked over to me and placed her arms on my shoulders, and looked deep into my eyes. "Don't ever lie to me Juliet." She said evenly as she locked me in her gaze. "I haven't" I said, shocked at how breathless my voice was. "Wanked, or lied" asked Laura, her eyes, inches away from me, staring into me, as if she could see right through to my soul. "Either," I whispered. "I haven't come without you here, or ever lied to you, I swear" "That's okay, there's no need to swear" admonished Laura, "I can see your telling the truth. I expressly forbid you to come without my permission, do you understand Juliet? I can see you're having difficulty with this, however, so I'll tell you what. If you find yourself weakening, when I'm not here, you can ring me at work or on my mobile. I'm never more than a couple of minutes out of reach. Ring, and tell me that you're starting to feel weak, and I'll come home, and you can do your business when I return. If its really difficult to get away, or..", here, she rolled her eyes ".. you simply can't wait, then I may give you permission to pull yourself off over the phone. But I want you to understand that this is absolutely a last resort. I can't have you ringing me every day at work just because you can't keep your hands out of your panties." When she told me this, I loved her even more than ever, she was so understanding, and so beautiful, and all she wanted in return was that I hide nothing from her. "I'll do my best Laura", I said, my eyes cast down. "I know you will dear" she replied and kissed me on the cheek, and with a whirl of perfume, she was gone. Since that day, nearly a whole week had passed, and the maid outfit had not yet arrived, and even though I was regularly invited to go down on Laura, I hadn't had release myself. Laura's admonishments and frank discussion about masturbation had completely inhibited me. Laura often enquired after I had pleased her, if I wanted to "Pull my thingy" as she put it, in front of her, but I couldn't bring myself to do it in her presence any more, partly because of the embarrassment, and partly because she seemed to be testing me, to see if I could last without release, and so I would reply that I didn't want to, though the desperate need in my eyes must have betrayed me to her. Laura seemed to be pleased with this reply and would help lift up my skirt, smooth down my panties over my aching erection and invite me to lie down beside her, with my head in her lap - "You'll be more comfortable like that" - and so I would end the evening of chores with my head in my wife's lap, breathing the musky scent from between her legs, while she stroked my face with one hand and gently caressed my aching cock through my skirt and panty fabric with the other. At last it was the weekend. I had convinced myself that my maid's uniform would arrive that day, since the mail order company promised a seven day turnaround. I rose before Laura, and showering quickly, dressed in white cotton panties, flesh- coloured pantyhose and cut-off denim shorts with a simple tee shirt on top - though I tied the bottom of the loose tee-shirt, hooters-style to expose my midriff above the shorts. I wore sneakers that could easily be kicked off and had a pair of full length men's jeans handy so that when the doorbell rang I could be changed to men's clothes in a matter of seconds. Since I'd risen so early, I had plenty of time to run the hoover around downstairs, dust a little and get a very special breakfast ready for my lovely wife, still asleep upstairs. The time passed all too quickly, and as I flew around the house with my chores, the clock ticked on towards nine o clock and there was still no ring at the door. At ten past, I had to face up to the fact that it wasn't arriving, and, resolving to ask Laura to ring the mail order company that afternoon, I trudged upstairs with Laura's tray with a heavy heart, like a disappointed child at Christmas. When I got upstairs, Laura was already awake and sitting up in bed waiting for me a little impatiently. "There you are" she said abruptly as I pushed open the door with the tray. She was clearly a little annoyed with me and her chest heaved against the black satiny material of her night-gown in frustration at being kept waiting. Normally I would bring her breakfast in bed at nine sharp on a weekend. "What on earth are you wearing?" she asked in annoyance as she took in my appearance, looking up and down my outfit with not a little distaste. "You look like trailer trash with those shorts and that old tee-shirt. What's more no lady would be pleased to wake up to such a sour face in the morning. Pouting doesn't make you pretty my dear." I was so disappointed already, and now Laura was scolding me. I felt torn between hurling the tray to the floor or bursting into tears or both. Instead, I laid the tray down on her lap, and tried to explain. "I thought that package might arrive this morning, and I thought I might change into it when it arrived, but it hasn't, I'm sorry Laura" and I tried to smile to make light of it all as I realised how silly it must sound to Laura to be waiting on a delivery of a new outfit like a little girl. Laura laughed, with her head thrown back. "Oh I'm sorry." she said as she saw the hurt on my face. "But you really shouldn't pout, and I do expect you to take a bit more care of your appearance when you're serving me. I thought you wanted to be a pretty maid, not a frump." Confused, I could only stare at her. She explained. "Your lovely outfit arrived to my office on Wednesday. I was going to give it to you this morning, but you had already rushed downstairs when I woke up. I've been sitting here waiting for you to try it on while you've been busying yourself downstairs with one ear cocked for the doorbell." Of course! The package would have been addressed to Laura, and she always got things delivered to work, in case no-one was at home to sign for it. I brightened up and looked around the bedroom eagerly. "You just can't wait, can you?" asked Laura as she tucked into her toast. "Now where would I have put it?" she teased. I sprang up from the bed and walked over to the chest of drawers. "Cold" cried Laura. I looked back at her, but she just gave me an impish grin, clearly revelling in my longing and confusion. I walked to her wardrobes. "Getting colder, you silly." She said flatly, and then by way of explanation - "Its you who's becoming the maid, not me". In puzzlement I walked to my own wardrobes. "Warmer" she sang out. I opened the doors and there on a hanger with my suits was the adorable maids dress. On the shelf beside it were the shoes, pantyhose, bows and other things. "Red hot!" she cried, and I whirled around to Laura, smiling. "They've been there since Wednesday evening." She explained. "If you were doing your job properly and getting all the washing done in a timely fashion then you would have seen them already." I gave her a silent look of hurt and frustration and she relented. "Yes, you're quite right, even if you had seen them you wouldn't have been able to try them on without my permission. It's my present to you after all." I began to take the things out of the wardrobe. "Bring it all over here Juliet" said Laura, and after I'd laid them all out on the bed beside my wife, se told me to bring her something else from her own lingerie drawer. On top of her slips and camisoles was a white box which I brought over and handed to her. "Now Juliet, I know that you've been trying very hard, and I'm very proud of you. I'm especially pleased that you seem to have learned to control your urge to wank on your own." I winced at the word. "You know that I cannot allow you to do that. If you can continue to be good, then I will continue to help you, but I want you to realise that this present I'm giving you is more than a pretty outfit for you to wear. Do you understand?" I thought I had some idea of where she was going with this, and even though I was desperate to try on the lovely dress before me, I wanted her to spell out what she had on her mind, I didn't want to make a mistake and disappoint her. "I think so Laura" I said uncertainly. "I don't think you do understand at all dear" she continued, ignoring my protest. "If you understood you wouldn't call me Laura. If you understood you would call me..." she trailed off looking at me with one eyebrow raised. "..Mistress?." I ventured. "Yes. Very good. Not Laura, not darling, not wife, but mistress." She spelled out, emphasising the last word and locking her gaze with mine. "A maid cooks and cleans and serves her mistress. Her mistresses' comfort and pleasure are her only concern and also her only reward. Is that the kind of relationship you want to have with me Juliet? If you don't, and you only want to wear this costume as a kind of kinky thrill then you might as well not bother having me here at all. You could go off and wear it on your own, preen in the mirror and jerk your pecker all by yourself like you used to. You don't need me for that do you? No. If you want to wear this dress, my dress, which I have bought for you and am giving you with all my love, then you are making a special commitment to me. Do you understand." All this was very clear to me, if I was to be Laura's maid, things were going to change. Change subtly, but change in a very important way nonetheless. Laura encouraging me to dress was one thing, incorporating my sissy fantasies into our lovemaking another, but this - to quote Laura's words - would be a very special commitment. As if to echo my thoughts, Laura interrupted to say. "You will be giving over your manhood to me, and while you wear this pretty dress you won't be a husband or even a man to me, but my maid. My very special, lovely maid, but my maid all the same." And she held up the dress with its satin-soft sheer skirt and tailored, narrow waist. I was caught in its spell, her spell. I longed to wear it, to serve her, to make her happy and win her approval. I suspected I had been failing to do that as a man, but I wanted desperately to serve Laura, and have her smile at me, even, especially, as woman. I collected myself and concentrated on speaking evenly so my voice wouldn't break girlishly as it was increasingly apt to do on these occasions. I wanted Laura to understand that I was taking on my new role willingly, and not just because I craved the pretty dress in front of me - though I did want it too, so very much. "I understand Mistress, I love you, and I want to serve you in every way that I can, if you want me to." "This isn't about what I want Juliet, this is about you. I am giving you a choice. If you want to take that choice, it's up to you. I will help you, but you must make your decision and accept it." In answer I reached out for the dress. "Ah ah!" Laura admonished, snatching it away. "Please, Laura" I said, reaching for it again. "No, silly." she said, rolling her eyes to heaven. "You need to put your underwear on first." She motioned at me to strip, and while I tore off my clothes, she unwrapped the white card package, revealing a wonderful brown sheer panty and bra set, with a matching camisole. She held these out to me with a raised eyebrow. "Please mistress, may I have my panties?" I asked, eyes cast down. "Yes darling Juliet" she replied, and swung her legs out from under the covers. Reaching down with the panties, she let me step into them, and then slowly, ever so slowly, tugged them up my legs and over my erection. They were very high, and made of soft and stretchy nylon, and I noticed that the cotton gusset stretched all the way up to the waistband. "To prevent you staining your dress." Laura explained. I put on the bra, which was already fitted with breastform pads, and slipped on the camisole. The silky garment slipped easily over my shoulders and felt deliciously cool next to my skin. "Now your pantyhose." Said Laura, holding up a semi-opaque dark brown lycra mix pair. The shiny fabric felt gorgeous as I rolled them up my legs, and Laura watched me intently. I slipped on the black patent heels, put up my hair and fixed the lacy bow into a french knot high on my head, all the while staring at the dress that Laura was holding out. When I was ready she told me to turn around, and opening the zipper, lifted it up over my head and allowed it to fall about my waist. I looked down at the hemline. It brushed my legs, midway down my thighs, and I felt Laura bring up the zipper with a firm hand. "Now turn around darling and let me see you." I whirled around, to let the skirt billow out around my nyloned legs, and found her smiling back at me dotingly. "Does my love like her new maid's outfit" she asked. "Oh yes mistress." I gushed. "Worth the wait?" she asked. "Oh yes", I replied, blushing, and found I couldn't meet her gaze. She lifted my chin with one hand. "Well. Now we'll see." she said. I'm going to get ready to go out now. Normally you'd help, but you've wasted so much time with your silliness I'll have to hurry, and I can get dressed quicker without you for the moment. You go and busy yourself around the house - I'm not leaving specific instructions, but you should be able to anticipate what needs to be done around here. And it had better be done correctly, as I would like it, or you will be over my knee for a spanking. I'll be back later, and I'll expect perfection - understand?" "Yes mistress." I replied, with a little curtsy. Laura reached down, to pull her night-dress over her head to begin getting ready, and then paused. "You still here?" she asked sternly. I blushed and turned around, and as I hurried downstairs, it struck me that the first change was that I might no longer see my wife undressing, or without her permission at least. On the other hand, there was the threat (or the promise?) of spanking. When I reached the landing I paused to admire myself in the full- length mirror. My pantyhosed legs, the wonderful flowing hemline, the tailored waist and figure hugging top. "I must concentrate on my work, on making everything perfect." I thought, How else was I going to keep my mind from leading back to my raging hard-on and the desperate need for relief that pulsed through my balls. Later, while I was busy polishing the silverware, and mentally going through a checklist for the meal I was going to prepare, Laura breezed through the kitchen looking positively stunning in a blue silk sheath dress, hardly paying me a second glance, except to toss me her worn pantyhose and underwear for the wash. "Bye love, see you later this evening" she called over her shoulder. With visions of Laura dancing through my head I settled in to my chores. I waited, my heart pounding, my held breath turning to fire in my lungs, waiting for her judgement. Laura stalked though the living room to complete her inspection. I had no idea how it was going down so far. If it wasn't good enough then I didn't know how I was going to cope in the future as I had slaved all day, while Laura apparently had spent the day lunching and shopping with her friends. She hadn't told me where she had been, but had breezed in with her shopping bags at six thirty, just as I was ready in the kitchen and taking a second to straighten my pantyline and fix my hair. Slowly she turned to face me, appraising my pent-up state, and finally allowing a huge smile to spread across her lovely face. "Perfect, Juliet, you've done a wonderful job. You won't have to be spanked after all." I deflated, expelling all my breath in a vast sigh of relief, coupled with delight that I had pleased my wife and mistress. She walked towards me, still smiling, and reaching down and around me, cupped and caressed my pantied ass cheeks through the smooth nylon hose with both hands. "Unless of course, you want to be spanked anyway, as a reward?" she whispered conspiratorially into my ear. "Would you like that Juliet? Would you like me to put you over my knee and spank you, for being a good girl?" Of course, she already knew the answer, as if my huge erection pressing into her belly through my satin skirt wasn't answer enough. Taking me by the hand she led me round to the settee, and sat down, pulling her own skirt up a little to expose her tan pantyhosed thighs, and then smilingly motioned, inviting me to bend over her knees. I did so, and as I knelt over, and she ruffled up my skirt to expose my ass, an incredible feeling washed over me, at once wonderful and frightening. I knew that I wanted to be spanked by Laura, more than anything else in the world, but I also knew that from here there was no going back. Everything prior to this day could yet have been laughed off as a harmless kink, a fantasy got out of hand. But once I'd allowed my wife to spank me, while dressed as a maid no less, then the last trace of my manhood would be gone, and I would be her sissy maid forever. Laura ran her hand over my butt cheeks, feeling them through the nylon and layers of satin. "Is this really what you want Bruce?" she asked, calling me by my male name, for the first time in weeks. "Do you want.. do you need me to spank you" Knowing I couldn't live without it, I willingly gave in to her "Oh please yes, Mistress, I need it so much. Please spank me.." and before I could begin to beg and plead in earnest, I felt the first wonderful stinging slap across my pantied buns. "Sissy, sissy, Sissy sissy" she cried with each slap. And I bucked against her soft thighs, and yelped in pain and the wonderful feeling of submitting myself to her. In truth the spanking wasn't really sore at all but each slap was a stinging shock. "What are you?" she asked, her hand raised, pausing for a moment. For a second, I thought she was threatening to stop, which I couldn't bear, the spanking was so wonderful. But I realised what she was asking. "A sissy, a sissy" I cried, the tears beginning to run down my cheeks, and the wonderful sensation of her hand firmly punishing my butt began again with even more vigour. "Sissy Sissy Sissy" said Laura firmly, in time with the sound of her hand slapping against my panties. Again, she paused, hand raised, as my waist trembled in anticipation. "Whose sissy?" she asked. "Oh yours, Laura! Yours! Your sissy. I'm your sissy" I managed to choke out between my tears of shame and ecstasy, and I continued to gasp out "Your sissy, only your sissy" between little yelps of pleasure as she continued to spank me. My cock, trapped in its satin prison, rubbed against my panties and pantyhose with each stroke, and in turn, against Laura's pantyhose and her soft and yielding thigh. Within seconds, I could hold out no longer, and I was in danger of coming all over her and myself, but suddenly she stopped, and, gripping the waistband of my pantyhose and panties, pulled them down almost to my knees. Laura pulled me to an upright kneeling position, and, manoeuvred me round in front of her. She spread her legs wide and lifted her ass off the settee. I knew what she wanted and pulled down her pantyhose and panties as far as her knees, and ducking under her legs buried my face in her crotch. Immediately both of her hands gripped the back of my head, and her knees locked me firmly in place, her pantyhose completing the soft ring around my head. She was very wet, and pulled me deeper into her, pulling my whole head up and down against her pussy, as I fought to keep my tongue against her clit. Though my head was caught against her crotch, being used as a tool to pleasure her, I managed to look upwards, mouth firmly locked against her cunt, and saw Laura gazing down at me, her eyes clouding with the onset of her orgasm. "Mistress comes first" she breathed to me, as she rubbed my mouth against her clit, and closed her eyes as the powerful waves rolled over her, her thighs clamped firmly around my ears and her fingernails digging into my scalp. She came for what seemed like minutes, her head thrown back, and her eyes rolled up. When she was done, and she was once more composed, she released me, and, pulling up her underwear, motioned to me to scoot over beside her. With my still rigid cock flapping awkwardly above my drawers and hose, which still hung down around my knees, I managed to sit on the edge of the settee. Laura gently raised and swung one leg over me and placed my cock between her pantyhosed thighs. "On my legs" she instructed me with a smile, and, with our eyes locked together, I slowly masturbated myself by rocking between her legs as she squeezed me between her delicious thighs. Within seconds I had flooded great gobs of cream over her pantyhose, as a weeks worth of pent-up come and tension flooded out of me and over her legs. Even as the last shudders of my orgasm rocked my body, Laura was gently pushing my mouth down to her lap for my mouth to clean my come off her clothes and body. "Is this what you imagined, Juliette?" she asked. I didn't reply, as I was still busy lapping up the great rivulets of jism that I had left on her legs. When I had finished she lifted my head up and cupping my face in her hands stared into my eyes, searching for the truth. "Is this what you wanted? What you needed?" I bit my lip. If she couldn't see the answer in my eyes now then she didn't know me at all. "This is what you want, isn't it? I'm so glad, I want to make you happy." She said, making me even more happy that I would have thought possible even as she said it. "You do know that I love you don't you?" she whispered, her hand gently caressing my sore buttocks. Tears coursed down my cheeks, as I stared back at her, and when I tried to answer, to tell her how much I loved her a great sob welled up in my chest, and then another. In a moment I had buried my face in her lap again, as my body was wracked with great spasms of emotion. I felt my tears soak her legs all over again, as I unashamedly gave myself over to my crying fit. Laura just stroked my hair, pulling out the maid's ribbon, and letting my long hair fall over my neck and shoulders. As I cried she gently shushed me, telling me to let it all out. "That's it baby, you go ahead and have a good cry, you've been so good, and Mistress loves you, she really does." When at last I was done, I felt exhausted but happy, as if every ounce of tension had been drained from my body. I looked up at my Mistress. I must have looked a fright, with my mascara and eye shadow smudged and streaked, and my makeup ruined. I'd left a dreadful mess in her lap, but she shushed me again, and after pulling up my knickers and pantyhose, led me by the hand upstairs to bed. There, she undressed me while I stood, weak as a girl, and allowed her to clean off my makeup and pull my nightie over my head. At last I was in bed, and soon she joined me, wrapping her arms around me from behind, and cupping my now flaccid penis inn one hand, she whispered words of love into my ear. The last thing I remember her saying as I drifted off to an untroubled sleep was "My sissy loves to be spanked, yes he does, she loves to be spanked by her mistress." Part III : Life with Mistress. And so things continued. I began to spend a lot more time at home. Thankfully my job was increasingly capable of being done remotely. Each day I would awake a couple of hours before Laura, get dressed, and get some chores done before preparing her breakfast. I brought her breakfast in bed every day now, and would endeavour to look my freshest and prettiest when I presented her with it, no matter how hard or feverishly I'd been working before. Then I would help Laura get showered, dressed and ready to go to work. Of course, this wasn't a chore, but a privilege. From early on, Laura made it quite clear that she didn't like to be 'Ogled' as she put it when I was dressing her, so she would put on her own underthings in the bathroom, and would emerge when discretely attired in her lingerie. Even then, (if truth be told, especially then) I couldn't resist lapping up her beauty with my eyes, for my increasing femininity had not lessened the adoration I held for my wife's fabulous body. The unspoken rule was that I was allowed to look, but not meet her gaze until Laura was fully dressed. If she caught my eyes lingering over her legs, or watching her slip on her dress, or worst of all, caught me gazing at her breasts before they were discreetly covered then her eyes would flash, and I would cast my eyes down in shame at being caught. If I was bold, then the following morning I would be banished from the bedroom while Laura dressed herself. As soon as Laura left for work I would put into effect an almost military- style operation which included all the cooking and cleaning, my own work and of course, my beauty regimen. For when Laura returned, all would be inspected. Not only the household chores had to be perfect, but Laura would also inspect my work, checking emails, reading reports and questioning me on what I was doing, she told me that she didn't want my new life to impinge on my job, as she had no intention of letting me turn into some sort of housewife. The most critical eye was of course reserved for my own appearance, and this had to be immaculate when Laura returned. The ultimate punishment was on one occasion, when after a particularly difficult day I had let my appearance slip terribly. Laura pointed out my smudged eyeshadow, the locks of hair falling down over my face, the stain on my dress, and horrors! I had a massive run in my pantyhose all the way up the back of my left leg. "If you can't be bothered to look after the clothes I give you Juliet perhaps you would be better off going back to jeans and a tee shirt." She scolded, and she made me go upstairs, strip off everything, and put on a pair of boxers, jeans and a old sweatshirt. Even my shoes were taken away and I spent the rest of the evening in my now unfamiliar clothes, out of favour and out of sorts, bitterly resolving not to ever let this happen again. Since then I had developed a better regimen to make sure I was always presentable, no matter what I had to do during the day, and could be sure of getting everything done before my darling returned from work. While it was not strictly necessary to have every possible task done before Laura came home - ironing could have been done in the evening for instance - I had another reason to be sure that everything was done before Mistress returned. Once the washing up had been completed, if there were no other chores then I would be allowed to join Laura in whatever she was doing, reading, watching television, or even just sitting and talking. These were the times I loved best, and sometimes, as the evening wore on, Laura would allow me to open a bottle of wine, and we would share it together, and sometimes, a twinkle would appear in her eye and she would reach over and fondle my arm, or my leg, her hand sneaking up under the hem of my dress and she would caress me, and tell me how lovely I was. On occasion, she would raise her own skirt, and let me gaze at her panties through her pantyhose, and she would tell me to take out my cock and rub it for her. On these occasions, she would instruct me in everything, when to stop rubbing myself, when to start again, to take off some article of my clothing or to run upstairs and fetch some other piece of lingerie to model for her. And as I followed her instructions, she would ever so slowly undress herself, until finally after maybe two hours of this torture she would finally allow me to gently pull down her panties and lovingly tongue her clit while she moaned and pulled at my hair, grinding her crotch into my face. If I was good, then once she was satisfied, she would then pat her lap, to tell me to get over her knees and I would receive the spanking I longed for, shooting off as I bucked over her lovely thighs or occasionally being allowed to finish with my cock between her breasts, or between her legs as on that first memorable night. Of course I would then have to clean my mistress as she smiled indulgently at me, commenting on my performance. I lived for these moments, and I felt that I had never loved her so much nor been so utterly satisfied. I was unsure if the change in the way I felt about Laura was because of my sissification or the enforced abstinence she imposed on me - for these nights were few and far between, often a whole week would go by without any such encounter, and the terrible urge to masturbate would almost overwhelm me. I knew that Laura knew best though, and I was sure that she would only deliberately deny me, or tease me to heighten the wonderful pleasure I felt when she did let our lovemaking go as far as it did. The wonderful sensations that my clothes and new role gave me did not go away, and soon a year in dresses and panties had passed. In that whole year, despite all the time we spent together, most often with me completely erect and longing for her, I was never allowed to enter her once. Nor did she ever take me in her mouth and only rarely did she touch my cock with her hand. If she did it was by accident, and only ever deliberately through the layers of soft material of my panties, hose and sometimes dress. Despite this, the whole year was a sexual nirvana for me, and I lived in constant state of arousal, tempered by the happy glow I got from pleasing my mistress. However, that is not to say we didn't have our bad times, and these were a foreshadow of what was to come. As I've said, I was entirely happy with the way things were, and looked back on the days before being found out with only regret for the time wasted when I could have been wearing panties. Unfortunately, and despite Laura's best efforts I was not a perfect maid, and there were episodes which caused us both a lot of pain and anxiety. The first of these was entirely my fault. Like a child testing the limits of what was allowed and not allowed I would occasionally be 'bold' - Laura's word. Like I said, a few times, I had been temporarily banished from the bedroom for staring at Laura in her underwear. The crime of course, was not looking at her, but looking at her without permission. This was one of many unstated rules. In the main, there was no need for Laura to spell out the boundaries of my behaviour, it was simply obvious. For instance, while Laura had never forbidden it, I no longer looked at porn. On the day after my discovery I had deleted everything off the drive that had pictures of women in any kind of sexual pose. Laura never commented on this, but I knew that she had searched the drive on several occasions, and while nothing was said, I knew that if there had been pictures of scantily clad women there, I would have had to explain myself. Another unspoken rule was that I was never to touch Laura's own clothes except when washing. From the first time I'd been caught I'd never been back into her panties again. Of course, I had my own now, and a collection of adorable clothes, all gifts from Laura. This was the problem, I didn't think she realised how few clothes I had. Apart from the occasions when I went out in men's clothes I was in skirts and dresses all day long. I only had five or six compete outfits altogether and Laura's exacting standards for my appearance meant keeping everything clean and fresh was a constant struggle. I longed to have some items as lovely as Laura's own. Truth be told, I just wanted more lingerie and dresses, once a panty-lover, always a panty-lover. And so, I came to the inevitable question. Was it okay to buy my own clothes? I had my own money, I wasn't completely under my wife's thumb. I reasoned that even the most downtrodden housewife was allowed a clothing allowance. It would be a nice surprise for Laura for me to buy my own clothes and surprise her by modelling a new outfit. Of course, ev