The Housewife II free porn video

In the public domain. Do whatever you want with this text. This episode mostly just expounds on the previous one; I know it, so please don't bother to point it out. I had intended to write another scene before I posted this episode, a scene which really does more than just emphasize the previous one, but I've got 30K here, so rather that wait, here's Episode Two of... THE HOUSEWIFE II By JaneDough7 Chapter 3 I walked home in a daze, unable to fully believe what had just happened. Mrs. Johnson had just made me do some very humiliating (but at the same time very exciting) things. I was soon back at my home. My parents wouldn't be home for hours yet, and I collapsed on the couch, reviewing what had happened. Mrs. Johnson had MADE ME dress in her underwear. MADE ME proclaim loudly that I wanted to be a woman, wanted to satisfy a man, wanted to be a wife. The enormity of what had happened hit me. Much of what had happened was recorded. Video recordings of me in the Johnson marital bed, pantied ass in the air, begging Bill Johnson to take me as a wife would be taken. Videos of me sucking on a dildo. Videos of me pleading to become a woman. Videos Mrs. Johnson had promised she would show to her husband. I felt like I was in another world. I could scarcely believe I was awake and not dreaming. I was, however, tremendously excited, and knew that this day was a turning point in my life. There was something about what had happened today that felt so right, and although I felt great trepidation about what was in my immediate future, I was also very excited. But the things Mrs. Johnson had made me say! Made me beg to fulfill the wife's role in bed... with a MAN! I had, until now, led a very sheltered life. Still a virgin, I had only kissed and petted with only one girl. But sex with a MAN? Sure, I had sometimes though about sucking cock while masturbating... but that was just fantasy. Sure, I liked to dress up in women's underwear... but I had always considered myself heterosexual; a young man who lusted after women. But Mrs. Johnson had made me proclaim to a camera, while wearing women's underwear, while sucking on a dildo... she had made me proclaim that I wanted to be a woman, and that I wanted to do the things that women do, with a man. And what about her kids? They were in school during the day. Would they find out? Would Mrs. Johnson tell them? What would they do when and if they found out about me, and what their mother intended to do with me? Chapter 4 Mrs. Johnson called the next day. "Shirley, pick up the phone. It's me, Mary Johnson. Come on, Shirley, I know you're there... pick up the phone." I wanted to answer the phone, but I was petrified and instead let the machine take the call. "Shirley, I want you at my house tomorrow at 10 AM. You'd better show up, or those videos get spread all over the 'net. See you at ten, Shirley!" I did not sleep at all well that night. Tossing and turning, I feared what was to come in the morning. I awoke, having not slept much at all, and felt terrible. I showered, shaved, dressed, and then walked over to the Johnson's. At the Johnson doorstep, I rang the bell; Mrs. Johnson soon answered. Wearing a blue floral shirtdress, perfectly made up, hair up and tied back, in low heels, she looked so feminine and womanly it took my breath away. Mrs. Johnson was a curvy woman, and her outfit emphasized the curves of her bosom and hips. I never tired of seeing Mrs. Johnson... she was my ideal woman. A mature, full-figured, curvy, EXTREMELY feminine lady. But things had changed in my life. I now answered to this woman. I would now have to do as she wished. "Come in, Shirley. Have a seat." She directed me to the couch. Mrs. Johnson sat in a comfortable chair, and casually continued, "You want to be a woman and a wife, don't you? Say it, Shirley." "I want to be a woman and a wife." "You do, don't you? You really do... I can tell. Those things you said, lying on my bed, dressed in my underwear, saying you wanted to be me. You really meant that. How long have you been dressing in women's things, Shirley?" I stared at the ground. I said, "I'm not sure. Since I've been about 12, I think." "Tell me how it started." "I found my mother's bikini in the dryer, and for some reason I found it exciting." "And???" I hesitated. Then, I continued. "I took it up to my bedroom and played with myself." "With your mommy's bikini. Did you wear your mommy's bikini, Shirley?" "Yes." "Say it, Shirley." "I wore my mommy's bikini." "How sweet. Wearing your mommy's things. You wanted to be just like her, didn't you, Shirley? Well, now's your chance. Now's your chance to become a woman, a wife, and a mommy. I've shown the videos to Bill, Shirley. You know, the videos of you with your ass in the air, begging Bill to fuck you. I gave him a hand job while he watched you on the TV begging to become his bitch. As he watched you plead to become a woman while wearing my underwear, I did my wifely duty and pleasured him with my hand. After the video was over, he asked to watch it again. He came in my hand, Shirley. Oh my, how he came. He came while seeing you wearing my bra and panties and sucking on a dildo. He wants you, Shirley. He wants you... as a man wants a woman. He admitted it to me, as I was pleasuring him with my hand." I was stunned, and again the reality of my situation hit me. Mrs. Johnson continued, "After he recovered from the hand job, we had a talk. A real heart-to-heart. I love my husband... he makes me happy and want I to make him happy. Like I told you before, he's very ambiguous about his sexual desires. He certainly has bisexual feelings, but is not ready to do it with a male. He wants to be with a boy, that much is clear, but he needs to be the masculine end in a masculine-feminine relationship. "He needs a feminine boy. A boy who looks, acts, talks, and is in every possible way a female. Well, in almost every possible way, that is. I know my husband. I've seen the kind of stories he reads on the 'net. I've seen the kinds of pictures he looks at. He wants a 'chick with a dick' you might say. But femininity is very important to him. His 'girl' has got to be extremely feminine, or he won't go for it. "So that's what I'm going to do. I've promised Bill I would do this for him. I am going to make you the most feminine boy I possibly can. As feminine as I can possibly make you. I will train you. I will be your personal tutor on all things female. I will teach you all the things you need to know about how to live as a woman. When I am done with you, you will walk, talk, eat, sleep, think, and virtually BE a woman. A very, VERY feminine young woman and housewife. With a dick, yes, but other than that, EXTREMELY feminine." I continued staring at the floor in front of me, saying nothing, just listening. "Do you understand me, Shirley? Do you have any questions about what is going to happen to you, girl?" I knew I was defeated. I knew the evidence Mrs. Johnson had against me. I knew I had no choice. I had to obey her. I answered, "No, Mrs. Johnson." She smiled. "Bill will be away on business this coming Monday for two weeks. You will quite your piece of crap job, then, on Monday morning at 9 AM you will report here to me to begin your housewife training. We'll start by writing a letter to your parents, telling them you need to 'find yourself' and are hitchhiking to California. Then your training will begin in earnest. I will make you every bit as much a woman and wife as I am. No, I take that back... I will make you MORE of a woman and a wife than I am! I will make you into a sexy, extremely feminine, extremely womanly housewife." Then I remembered her kids. Mr. and Mrs. Johnson held off having kids until they were financially secure, and until Mrs. Johnson was able to be a stay-at-home mom and housewife. They had two children: a boy of 8 and a girl of 6. I asked, "But what about your kids?" She smiled. "What about the kids?" "Well... but... will they be here when, you know, you are telling me what to do?" "Of course they will be here when they're not in school. It is their home, after all. I'll just tell them the truth. That you want to be a mommy and a wife like me, and that I'm helping you learn how. You'll get lots of practice in this house learning the ways of womanhood. Bill and I will help you learn how to be a wife, and the kids will help you learn what it's like to be a mommy. You wanted to be a housewife? Well you'll get that in spades, girlfriend. Now, go home, quit your job, and be here at 9AM Monday. Don't bother to bring anything, just bring yourself." Chapter 5 A woman. I was going to be trained by a woman, to be as womanly as possible. Trained to be a housewife, and a mother. I was going to be forced to become a housewife and make a man, Mr. Johnson, happy. The reality of the situation ran around and around in my head. Mrs. Johnson told me she was going to make me "extremely womanly" and after our talk, I had no doubt whatsoever of her commitment to doing just that. I did as I was told: quit my job, and reported at the Johnson doorstep at 9AM Monday. As directed, I brought nothing. Mrs. Johnson answered the door with a smile on her face. "Shirley! Come in!" I entered the house. "Come with me," she said as we went to the kitchen. "Sit." I sat at the kitchen table. "Coffee?" I declined. Mrs. Johnson poured herself a cup, put it on the table, then went over to the counter top and retrieved a pen and paper. Putting the pen and paper before me, she said, "Pick up the pen, and write, "Dear Mom and Dad." I complied, writing as she directed. "I need some time to myself to think. I'm going to California for a couple of weeks. I'll call you soon. Please do not worry, I promise I'll call you very soon. Love, Jason." After I had finished the letter, Mrs. Johnson took it from me, stuffed it into an envelope and put it in her purse. "Now then," Mrs. Johnson said, "let's begin. We have a long day ahead of us... I need you fresh. I'll be right back." Mrs. Johnson left the kitchen. I could hear her preparing a bath for me. She returned. "Into the bathroom with you. Leave your clothes by the bathroom door... you won't be needing them any more. Wash up." I did as I was told, stripped, left my clothes by the bathroom door, then stepped into the bathtub. As before, the bath water was highly perfumed and smelled very feminine. "Shirley dear, meet me in the bedroom when you're done," I heard through the bathroom door. I continued bathing, making myself as clean as I could and in the process, making myself smell very womanly. I stepped out of the tub, toweled dry, grabbed a fresh towel to cover my nakedness, and went to the bedroom. The door was open, but I knocked anyway. "Mrs. Johnson?" "Come in, dear. Sit on the bed." Mrs. Johnson was in the closet; I could hear the movement of hangars. I heard her begin humming a tune. I sat on the edge of the bed; naked except for the towel I wore. Mrs. Johnson left the closet, a long garment draped over her arm. I could not tell exactly what it was from where I sat, but from what I could see, it was light blue, and a floral print. She walked over to a chair, and draped the garment over the back. She then walked over to her lingerie drawer, and pulled it open. Rummaging around a bit, she pulled out a pair of panties, and held them open, showing them to me. They were full-cut nylon briefs, with an extremely feminine floral print. I had expected she would dress me in feminine panties, but I was not expecting panties such as these. To me, they absolutely screamed "WOMEN'S PANTIES" and I was sure she picked them out for me just for that reason. I had worn panties like that before, and knew how it would feel. I knew what it felt like to wear full cut nylon briefs, and I was thrilled at her selection. "Shirley, these are one of my most favorite pair of panties. I wear them whenever I want to feel exceptionally womanly. For your first day as a housewife in training, I want you to feel as womanly as I do. These panties... my panties... I have worn them many times under my skirts... I am giving them to you. Look at them. Look at how flowery they are. Would a real man ever wear such a thing? Of course not. But YOU will. You'll wear these extremely womanly panties, won't you Shirley. WON'T YOU, SHIRLEY?" She expected an answer. "Yes, Mrs. Johnson, I will wear those panties." "Of course you will, Shirley. Of course you will. Because you are SUCH a SISSY! Only women and SISSIES would wear a panty such as this, so soft, and so flowery. A panty that leaves no doubt about which gender it is designed for. A panty designed for a WOMAN. Now, beg. Beg to wear my 'Bali Skimp Scamp full-cut floral nylon panties'." She looked at me, waiting for an answer, still holding the panties out and open with both hands, fully exposing the panties in all their feminine glory. Her panties. Mrs. Johnson's panties. And again, the reality of the situation hit me. Here I was, in a housewife's bedroom, sitting on her bed as she held out this extremely womanly pair of panties in front of me, telling me to beg to wear them. "Please, Mrs. Johnson, let me wear your Bali full-cut nylon panties." "WRONG!" she yelled. The phrase is 'Bali Skimp Scamp full- cut floral nylon panties'. Now, again! I hesitated, not sure I had the exact phrasing she wanted. She yelled, "BALI SKIMP SCAMP FULL-CUT FLORAL NYLON PANTIES, BITCH! SAY IT!" I was sure the neighbors could hear her. "Please, Mrs. Johnson, let me wear your Bali Skimp Scamp full-cut floral nylon panties." "But Jason, these are MY panties. I'm a woman, a housewife, and a mother, and you are a boy. Do you REALLY want to wear my panties?" "Yes, Mrs. Johnson, I really want to wear your panties." She threw down the panties, stepped over to me, and slapped me hard. "For fucks sake, you really are a stupid little bitch. Can't even follow simple instructions. What did you say, now?" With her standing there, glaring down at me, I said the phrase she was waiting to hear. She stepped back, reached down, and picked the panties back up. "Stand up!" she ordered. I complied. In all the excitement, I was rock- hard, and it showed through my towel. She looked down at my towel-covered crotch. "That figures. Can't have you walking around with that unsightly, unfeminine bulge." She tossed the panties she was holding onto the bed. Reaching under her skirt, she pulled down, then off, the panties she was wearing, then tossed them next to the floral panties she had made me beg to wear. Then she did something I was totally unprepared for. She casually grasped the hem of her skirt and raised it high, over her waist. My gaze immediately went to her neatly trimmed bush. I gasped audibly. She giggled. "Never seen a woman's crotch, have you, Jason?" I gulped, still staring at her feminine vee. "No, Mrs. Johnson." "I didn't think so. Well, don't worry, you'll be seeing a lot of it." Still holding her skirt up, exposing her naked crotch, she said, "Pick up the Bali panties, Shirley, and get on your knees in front of me." With my heart in my throat, I walked over to the bed, and daintily picked up the nylon panties. I then walked over to where Mrs. Johnson stood, and then fell to my knees in front of her. "Get a good look, Jason. Look at my crotch." She spread her legs slightly. "Look at me, Shirley." I looked up. She laughed, "No, you silly twit, look at my pussy." I resumed gazing at her pussy; a mere two feet away from my face, at eye level. I could plainly see her labia. I was hard as a rock. "That's what a housewife looks like between her legs. Don't you wish you could look like that? Don't you wish you could look THIS feminine between your legs? No nasty male penis, but a nice, soft vulva, like mine? Answer me, Jason." "Yes, Mrs. Johnson, I wish I could look like you do, between my legs." "You really are SUCH a sissy, Jason." She spread her legs wider, and then reached down, and spread her labia, holding her lips open. She played with them a bit, rubbing herself a bit, opening her lips, then letting them close. Then she just held her labia wide open. "Get a good look. Can you see it? Can you see my vagina?" I could. I could see her hole. The opening to her vagina. I told her, "Yes, Mrs. Johnson, I can see your vagina." "That's where my husband put his penis when he inseminated me. When he penetrated me. When he turned me from a simple wife, to a mother. Look at it, Jason. Look at my vagina. Look at where men have put their cocks. Look at where I get fucked. Don't you wish you had a vagina? Answer me." "Yes, Mrs. Johnson, I wish I had a vagina." "But people with vaginas get penetrated by men. They get mounted and inseminated. They become mothers. Is that what you REALLY want, Jason?" "Oh yes, Mrs. Johnson." "Yes, what?" "Yes, Mrs. Johnson. I want to have a vagina like yours so I can get penetrated and become a mother." She removed her fingers from her vulva, reached for the hem of her skirt and resumed holding it over her hips, and then took a more normal stance. "Pick up the Bali panties and put them on me. Do NOT under ANY circumstances touch my skin, or my private parts." I reached for the panties. I knew enough about panties from experience to find the front, and opened the panties before her feet. She lifted one foot up; I put the leg hole of the panty over her foot and slightly up her leg. Then, the other foot. Being careful not to touch her, I slowly raised the panties. As I approached her most feminine area, she raised her skirt higher so as to make it easier for me to panty her. I then pulled the waistband of the panties over her hips, and ran my fingers around the waistband to achieve a good fit. "Hold my hem, Jason. Keep my skirt up." I took the hem of her skirt between my fingertips. Mrs. Johnson then adjusted the full-cut nylon panties... adjusted the leg openings, ran her fingers around the waistband, then let it snap audibly. "Lie on the bed, Jason. On your back." I did as I was told. She then stood beside the bed, very close to where I lay. She then raised her skirt again, fully exposing the floral nylon panties. "Play with yourself. Make yourself come. We've got to get that hard-on off. Do it, as you look at my pantied ass." She turned around, bent over slightly, and showed me her ass. Her panties were form-fitting with a back seam, which defined her ass cheeks. To me, it was a heavenly sight. As I gazed at the curvaceous ass of Mrs. Johnson, encased within floral nylon panties, I jerked off. "Look at my ass, Jason. Don't you wish YOUR ass looked this feminine? It will, sooner than you think. Go on, look at my panties. Do you think they are feminine? Do you think they are befitting a HOUSEWIFE? Are these a HOUSEWIFE'S PANTIES? Do you like jerking off while looking at a HOUSEWIFE'S PANTIED ASS?" I quickly exploded all over my stomach. It was the most satisfying orgasm I had ever had. I loved Mrs. Johnson and I knew that I would do anything she wanted. I was so entranced, I would have given myself to her will, even if she didn't have any evidence to hold against me. Mrs. Johnson giggled at me. "Did you like that, Shirley? Did you like masturbating to my panties? No need to answer; I already know." Mrs. Johnson pulled a couple of Kleenex from the bedside table, and tossed them to me. I cleaned myself up. She said, "I like these panties. I'm not ready to take them off. But you can wear the panties I had on before." She reached over to the bed, where the panties she had been wearing lay. She held them up, showing them to me. "These are Vanity Fair 'Lace Nouveau' full-cut white nylon panties. I just love the lace insets on the side... doesn't that add just the perfect feminine touch? But what makes them REALLY feminine is the fact that I've been wearing them ALL DAY. Would you like to wear them?" She didn't need to ask twice. "Oh yes, Mrs. Johnson." "Tell me you'd like to wear the panties of a housewife." "Please, Mrs. Johnson, I'd LOVE to wear the panties of a housewife. The panties that YOU wore." "But, Jason, these panties are dirty. I've already worn them. Don't you find that disgusting? To wear the panties a woman has already worn?" "Oh, no, Mrs. Johnson! I really REALLY want to wear your panties!" "Since you asked so nicely, here you go." She tossed the panties to me, and I caught them. "Go ahead, Shirley, put on your women's panties." As I lay on the bed, I put my legs into the panties, and pulled them up. I raised my ass off the bed to pull the panties up, then pulled the waistband over my hips, and there I was, once again, in Mrs. Johnson's bed, wearing Mrs. Johnson's panties. I sighed contentedly. "Now, for a bra." She walked over to her lingerie drawer, rummaged about, and then pulled out a white bra. Holding it up, she said, "It's a Playtex 18 Hour bra. A real housewife bra, eh? Now THIS is a bra for a woman who NEEDS a bra." She was right about that... the bra was to me a marvel of brassiere engineering, designed to support a real woman's bosom. She continued, "This is a woman's bra. Not a girl's bra, but a WOMAN'S bra. The kind of a bra a woman who has nursed her children, who has pleasured her husband thousands of times, would wear. And so will you. But first, let me ask you: are you WOMAN enough to wear a Playtex bra?" "Oh, yes, Mrs. Johnson!" "Yes, what?" "Yes... I'm woman enough to wear a Playtex bra." "I see. I don't think you are. But you soon will be." She tossed the bra to me. "Put it on, Shirley. Put on my 40DD Playtex 18 Hour bra." I threaded my arms through the straps of her bra, and then reached around to do up the hooks. It felt so exciting, reaching behind my back in such a feminine way, to hook up this woman's bra. After I had caught the hooks, I ran my fingers underneath the bra band, positioning it lower, then I moved to the sliders on the straps, adjusting them one after the other for a perfect fit. Mrs. Johnson laughed. "I see you've got some experience in this! But the cups are a bit big for you, though. We'll have to get some breast forms for you. In the meantime..." She walked over to her lingerie drawer, and one by one, tossed six pairs of panties onto the bed. "Stuff three into each cup." I stuffed the bra cups with the panties. I looked enormous. Mrs. Johnson said, "Dear, you are going to look SO feminine in your dress. But breast forms will be necessary. We'll have to take care of that ASAP. You can't feel totally womanly unless you jiggle!" She walked over to the chair, where she had draped the garment she pulled out of the closet. Holding it up by its hangar, I could see it was a long, light blue, floral dress. "It's a sleeveless shirtdress, Shirley. It should just about reach your ankles. Don't you love the flowery design on it? Isn't it feminine?" "Yes, Mrs. Johnson, it's very pretty." "I knew you'd like it," she said as she began undoing buttons that ran down the front. "Stand up, dear, and step in." I complied. She put my arms through the straps of the dress, then began buttoning up the front. There must have been thirty buttons down the front of the dress. She then positioned the straps of the dress, fluffed it a bit, checking for fit. "There we go. Now, for a scent." She walked over to her vanity, retrieved a bottle, then walked back over to where I stood. She gave me a spritz behind each ear, then a spritz on each wrist. I was enveloped in a totally feminine scent. "It's Lancome's 'Poeme'. Don't you just love it? I wear it when I want to feel particularly feminine. It's such a soft, feminine, flowery, pretty scent, don't you think?" "Oh, yes, Mrs. Johnson, it is!" I meant it. I smelled like a woman, and I liked it. "Come over hear," Mrs. Johnson stood by a full-length mirror. I gazed at myself. I looked like a guy in a dress. But, my bust! I looked ridiculous, having such a buxom silhouette with a young man's face. But the dress was lovely... it felt very exciting to be in such a long, pretty dress. What I liked about the dress was that it was so womanly. I was wearing the kind of a dress a woman would wear when she wanted to dress casually, but femininely. And the dress was VERY feminine, with the repeating floral print design. "Now, dear, lets have some tea. Let's go to the living room." Chapter 6 I followed Mrs. Johnson to the living room and sat. "No, no, NO, Shirley! Get back up and sit like a WOMAN! Smooth your skirt before you sit!" I stood, then smoothed my skirt out the way I had seen women do, and sat. "Now, cross your legs. You know, like a woman. Thatta girl!" I was loving it. Here I was, wearing Mrs. Johnson's bra and panties, wearing one of her dresses. I smelled like a woman, and now I was sitting in her living room, legs crossed like a woman, waiting to take tea with her. She went to set the kettle to boil, and then joined me in the living room. "Well now, Shirley, are you enjoying yourself today?" "Oh yes, Mrs. Johnson, very much so!" It was true. This was a dream come true for me. This totally feminine woman had dressed me in her clothes, let me put panties on her, let me jerk off while looking at her ass... I felt like I had died and gone to heaven. "Good. I'm glad. I hope you still feel this way a month from now." "A month?" I gasped. "Of course, dear. Of course, a month. Longer than that, in fact. Let me tell you what's going to happen. You're going to become ME. As fully as you can. You're going to live here for the foreseeable future. I'm going to teach you all that I know about how to be a woman, a housewife, and a mother. And, of course, a wife. I hope you still like what I'm doing to you when I present you to Bill, though. Bill's not always the easiest man to deal with, especially in the bedroom. But I think you'll do just fine." I stared at the floor. With all the fun I had had in the past several hours, I had totally forgotten about Bill. "I can see your concern, Shirley. You've never been with a man. You're not sure if you'll like it. I understand. You know, Shirley, I've become very fond of you. I want to do right by you. I'll tell you what. I'm going to let you decide for yourself what your future holds." "Here's your choice. You can take off my clothes, put your own clothes back on, and leave. Of course, you'll leave smelling of Poeme, but you can leave. I promise you, I will destroy all videos I have of you, and will never bother you again. Or... you can move into this house, and become a part of the family. I will turn you into a woman, or at least as much a woman as I can. You will obey me fully, and I will teach you; I will be you femininity instructor. You will become the woman of the house; responsible for all the things a housewife is responsible for. The cleaning, the shopping. You will become a housewife. And a mommy, the mommy to our kids. And Bill, well, Bill will become your husband. If he likes you, anyway. But from his response to watching those videos of you, I think you two will get along just fine. You will of course need to fulfill your wifely duties in the marital bed, be a woman in the bedroom in EVERY way, and let Bill have his way with you." She paused. Our eyes locked. This was serious. The decision I was about to make would change my life dramatically. She continued. "You will become ME. Mrs. Bill Johnson. A housewife, and a stay-at-home mom. I will treat you properly, but you will have to agree to obey my every command. But let me make this totally clear: If you decide to let me make you into a housewife, there is no going back. Once you take that path, you cannot turn back. I won't let you. If you try to quit the life you have chosen, I'll use every available means to make you wish you were dead." The teakettle began to whistle. "Think about it. I'll be right back. How do you take your tea, Shirley?" "A little sugar, please, Mrs. Johnson." She went to the kitchen. I stood up and walked over to the fireplace. A picture of Mr. and Mrs. Johnson was on the mantle. He was not an unattractive man, I though. Actually, were I a woman, I would be proud to be on his arm. Could I do that? Could I be his wife? I had met Bill before, and kind of liked him. He was funny, always willing to help out, and seemed like such a nice guy. I felt my skirts around my legs, smelled my feminine perfume, looked down at my bosom. I would do it. I would become Mrs. Bill Johnson. Mrs. Johnson returned with a tray of cookies and tea. She sat the tray down, and smiled at me, knowing I had looked at the picture of she and Bill. "He is handsome, isn't he? Have a seat, dear." I sat, this time, properly smoothing my skirt and crossing my legs womanishly. "Do you have any questions, Shirley?" "Yes, I do, Mrs. Johnson. If I become Bill's wife, and the woman of the house, what will you do?" She smiled. "I will, of course, still live here. I love my kids and I love Bill. I will go back to school, and get a law degree." "I see." "Are you ready to make your decision, Shirley?" "Yes, Mrs. Johnson." "And what is your answer?" "I will do it. With your help, I will become a housewife, and become Mrs. Bill Johnson." She smiled. "I knew you would. This was just a formality; I already knew the answer. Two years down the line, when you may or may not still like your position in life, you will know that you entered into your new life by choice. Let's solemnize your decision now. Follow me." I followed Mrs. Johnson into the bedroom. "Sit on the bed, look into that camera, and say it." "Say what, Mrs. Johnson?" "Don't play dumb with me, Shirley. Say that you willingly give yourself up to the life of a woman, a mother and a wife." Mrs. Johnson walked to the side of the room, so that she was out of camera range. I sat on the bed. I knew how ridiculous I looked, with the face of a male, in the garb of a woman, with breast pressing my dress out. I began. "I am Jason Smith. I am of my own free will saying that I give my life to the Johnson's. I will follow Mrs. Johnson's instructions fully and obey her in every way. I want to become a woman. I want to be Bill Johnson's wife, and the mother to his children." I paused. Mrs. Johnson said, "Well done, Mary." "Mary?" "Yes, Mary. You're ME now. Or soon will be. Everything that I am, you soon will be. So it only seems right that you also take my name: Mary Johnson. I will take my middle name, Anne. You are now Mary Johnson. Congratulations, Mary!" (To be continued)