Becoming a Housewife
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The Housewife IV free porn video
This is the last part of my story. I'm no longer writing
TG fiction, and I was not totally happy with what follows,
but I decided to submit what I had.
If anyone wishes to continue this story, please, be my guest
and have fun. Please just make it clear that I did not
write beyond part IV.
May peace be with you. It was fun.
Sorry it took so long for Part IV. There is a note at the end
of this story which goes into more detail about the delay.
- Jane
The Housewife
By JaneDough7
Chapter 11 - The Career Look
I stood in front of Mrs. Johnson with a hard on. A Tampax was
lodged in my ass and the nursing bra I was wearing was blatantly
obvious through the sheer blouse I wore.
Mrs. Johnson looked me up and down and said, "I haven't worn that
blouse in years. It is ridiculously transparent, isn't it? I
used to wear it when I was a secretary... back when Bill and I
were dating. I used to love wearing sexy lingerie under that
blouse... knowing how transparent it is... knowing how my pretty
lingerie was displayed under that blouse. I used to love watching
men pretending not to look at my lingerie under my blouse. It made
me feel so desirable. And whenever Bill held me and kissed me while
I was wearing that blouse, he would play with my bra straps. He
would try to be discreet about it and not be totally obvious, but
he was, totally obviously feeling the bra he had seen so well
highlighted underneath that blouse."
Mrs. Johnson then looked me in the eye, as if pondering something.
She said, "We're going to play dress-up. I'm going to dress you
the way that I used to dress when I was a secretary." She continued
to stare at me as she continued, "I can see your disappointment.
You want to jump right in to your life as a housewife. I understand.
That will happen soon, but for today, I want you to know what it's
like to dress as an office girl. You're going to wear the very same
outfits I wore, when I was trying to get by on a secretary's salary
and was trying to get Bill to ask me out."
She walked over to the lingerie drawer and rummaged around. I saw
her pull out a pair of pantyhose and panties. She tossed me the
panties; they landed on the floor.
"You're going to start out just as I did... as a young woman who
wants to get married. A young woman who wants to look her best,
so that men are attracted to her, and so that men want her... sexually.
Clothes designed to highlight a woman's femininity. Clothes that
leave no doubt that the wearer is a woman, and proud of it. Now,
pick up your panties, Mary, and put them on."
I picked up the panties. They were "Hanes' Her Way" cotton briefs,
white, with a floral pattern. She said, "Don't be disappointed, Mary.
Those are the kind of sensible, everyday panties a secretary would
normally wear. They're very comfortable, but at the same time, very
womanly, don't you think?"
Gazing at the panties, I nodded, and gulped. She was, as usual,
correct. They were VERY womanly. Even though they were cotton,
and were 'every day', the floral pattern made it very clear that
this was a WOMAN's panty. This was the kind of panty a woman would
wear on just an average day in her life, while leading her womanly
life, doing womanly things.
I put one foot, then the other, into the panties. I slowly pulled
them up, savoring every moment of putting on Mrs. Johnson's
"Hanes' Her Way" floral panties. I pulled them over my hips, then
ran my fingers around the band, fitting them.
Mrs. Johnson then smiled at me, and said, "What a feminine sight.
You look so adorable, in that bra, blouse and panties... you look
like SUCH a secretary, getting ready for her day. Don't those
panties look just SO secretarial? Those are the kinds of panties a
SECRETARY wears, and the panties that a secretary really wore... me!
The kind of panties a secretary wears while sitting at her desk, legs
crossed, flirting with all the men. Doesn't that make you feel
feminine?"
I was rock hard. I nodded. She smiled.
"Now, the pantyhose. A good girl like you... a good secretary, knows
all about pantyhose, doesn't she?" She handed the pantyhose to me.
"You do know all about pantyhose, don't you, Mary?" She expected
an answer.
I did know about pantyhose. I had tried my Mom's pantyhose on several
times, and knew how to put them on. I said, "Yes, Mrs. Johnson...
er, Anne."
"Good! Well then, go ahead! Put on your pantyhose, Mary!"
I sat on the edge of the bed as I rolled up one foot, then pulled
them up to my knee. Then the other foot. Mrs. Johnson was watching
me with some amusement. She laughed and said, "I knew you were a
sissy, but I never knew you were THAT much of a sissy! If you could
only see what you look like, now, putting on your pantyhose like a
total girl."
I stood up, then pulled the pantyhose up and over my hips. The
feeling was incredible, and I felt like I was on another planet.
I was dressing up like a total woman, on Mrs. Johnson's command,
and I was a very, very happy sissy.
Mrs. Johnson walked over to the walk-in closet, and soon came back
holding just what I figured she would come back with. A skirt.
My heart leapt. For some reason, I had until now looked upon this
all as some kind of game... as some kind of beat-off fantasy...
until I saw that skirt. The sight of the skirt drove it all home,
to me. That this was real. This was not lingerie, or slut wear
for bedroom fun, but a woman's skirt. A woman's skirt.
She held it up for me to see. It was black, slim, and looked like
the hem would be above the knee. A hem high enough to show a lot
of leg, but still be respectable in a work environment.
She handed me the skirt. It had a zipper and a button. I knew that
they belonged in the back. I had a hard time catching my breath.
To me, this skirt symbolized womanhood. Only a woman wears a zipper
in the back, and that's what I was becoming. A woman who wore womanish
clothes, and who wore skirts that zipped up in the back.
I unzipped the skirt, then stepped into it. I pulled it up and over
the blouse I wore, then zipped it and did the button.
Mrs. Johnson said with disappointment, "Mary, Mary, Mary... you act
like you've never worn a skirt before. Here, let me help you." She
reached for the waistband of the skirt, and pulled it up higher.
She then adjusted the blouse so that it hung properly at the waistband.
"Now then, why don't you show me how much of a woman you really are,
and find a pair of heels to go with that outfit. I think we're about
the same shoe size... let's see. Go on!"
I walked over to the walk-in closet and looked at the shoes. Mrs.
Johnson was a woman of taste, and she had every style from
comfortable moccasins to high-heeled "fuck mes". I considered what
I was wearing, and made my decision. I picked up a pair of black
pumps. The heels, while not of stripper proportions, were all woman.
I carried the pumps out into the bedroom, and in front of Mrs. Johnson,
I put on her heels.
I was surprised that the heels fit so well. We were the same size.
"Walk," Mrs. Johnson said. I walked to the end of the room, then back.
I was having some difficulty. Sure, I had tried my Mom's heels, but
never for very long, and I had no idea how to walk in them. Mrs.
Johnson laughed at me.
"You have a lot of work to do yet, Mary Johnson. You walk like a
linebacker in those heels, not a woman. Try again. Walk like this,"
and she demonstrated how she wanted me to walk. "Cross one foot in
front of the other, almost like you were walking a tightrope.
That'll give your walk a very feminine look. See how it makes
my hips sway? Men like that. Go ahead."
I did as she told me. I crossed one foot in front of the other,
and walked in the heels across the room, then back. The combination
of the skirt, bra, blouse, panties and heels was overwhelming. With
each step, I could feel the tampon lodged in my backside. I felt
like a total sissy, and I loved it.
"Put your left hand on your hips like this, and your other palm out
facing the floor. Left elbow out... thatta girl!"
I felt totally humiliated as I assumed such a blatantly feminine pose.
"One heel in front of the other, Mary. That's it. That's how a woman
walks. Now, get your hips into it. Wiggle, girl!"
She was grinning from ear to ear as I followed her instructions.
"Your walk needs a lot of work. But the feminine potential is there.
Keep walking."
I continued to walk back and forth across the room as Mrs. Johnson
had me position my hands and arms in typically feminine ways. She
corrected me occasionally... giving me tips on how to walk more
femininely.
"Over to the mirror, Mary. Keep your hand on your hip, your right
palm down just like that. Look at yourself."
I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked ridiculous. I had the
bosom of a woman... a very well endowed woman. My nursing bra was
totally obvious under the blouse. My hips were cocked just a bit,
my legs in pantyhose, with high-heels, and a skirt. From the neck
down, I looked EXTREMELY feminine. But from the neck up, I was
obviously male. The contrast was freakish. I looked like a joke,
I though. The face of a male, and the body and clothes of a secretary.
"Good! That was much better! Keep practicing... I've got some calls
to make... I'll be right back. Keep practicing!"
Chapter 12 - Road Trip
I continued practicing walking in women's heels. I was wondering what
was taking Mrs. Johnson so long to return, and what she was doing.
Then she re-entered the bedroom, glared at me, then yelled, "Left hand
on your hip, right palm parallel with the floor, bitch!" I quickly
re-assumed the humiliating position.
"Look at you. Do you have any idea what you look like? You look like
you want... cock. You're dressed like you want cock, just like a woman.
You're dressed like a FEMALE, and FEMALES want COCK! Don't you, MARY?"
I stared at the floor, and said, "Yes, Mrs. Johnson."
"Yes WHAT?"
"I'm dressed like a woman because I want cock, Mrs. Johnson."
"Yes, you do, Mary. You may just be saying that to please me, but I
will make what you said a reality. You really will end up wanting cock,
Mary, if you don't already. You will dress like a woman, like a very
sexy and feminine woman, because that is what women do... that is what
women who want MEN and want COCK do! That's what you are, or soon will
be, Mary. A FEMALE who wants sexual attention from MALES to make her
complete. That's why you'll wear skirts and dresses. That's why you'll
wear lipstick, perfume, mascara, and all the other little things women
wear so that men find them attractive. So that men will want to put
their penises INSIDE YOU, Mary. Because that's what you're to be.
You're to receive COCK, like a woman!"
My heart was beating rapidly. Truth be told, I was more than a little
scared. I began to wonder what I had gotten myself in to. Did I REALLY
want to live like this? Did I REALLY want to dress like a female, to
make myself attractive to males? But the point was moot. The decision
had been made. This was my fate, and there was nothing I could do to
change it.
She went back to the closet and came back with a purse. "You won't
need much for now, but you'll need to get used to carrying a purse.
She went over to where the box of Tampax lay, retrieved a couple of
tampons, and put them in the purse. She then handed me the purse.
She then said, "OK, girl, let's go. I've made an appointment for
you with a friend of mine. Come!" She then left the room. I followed.
She turned, looked at me, then said, "Like a BITCH, Mary! Walk like a
BITCH!" I quickly complied, put my hand on my hip, walked in cross-over
fashion, and followed her to the garage. She opened the passenger side
door, and said, "Get in."
"Um, Mrs. Johnson, I..."
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, Mary! Get in the goddamned car!"
I couldn't believe it. I feared she would make me go out in public,
but I had expected she would at least give me a wig to wear, or some
makeup, so that my true gender would not be so totally obvious. But
it was not to be. I was going with Mrs. Johnson, to the outside world,
dressed as a woman, but with an obviously male face.
"Mrs. Johnson, I don't think..."
"MARY, WHEN I WANT YOUR OPINION, I'LL ASK FOR IT!" she yelled. "NOW
GET IN THE GODDAMNED CAR!"
I complied, but she wasn't happy. She said with disgust, "Get out."
I got out of the car. "Since you are so fucking stupid, let me demonstrate.
A lady gets into a car like this." She then demonstrated, smoothing out
her skirt, then sitting on the seat, then swinging her legs into the car.
"Got it? Or is that too difficult for a bimbo like you?"
I started to cry. I did not want to be seen in public like this.
Dressed like a secretary, in a skirt, a sheer blouse, a nursing bra,
heels. But with the face of a male.
"You brought this on yourself, Mary. It was YOU who broke into my house
and stole my things! It was YOU who couldn't control himself. Now you
have to pay the price, bitch! You're not going to like some of the
things that are going to happen to you, but that's what happens to common
criminals and perverts like yourself. Now then, GET INTO THE CAR LIKE A
WOMAN WOULD."
In between tears, I smoothed out my skirt, then sat, then swung my legs
into the car.
"Good girl. There's hope for you yet," she said as she slammed the door
shut. She walked around to the drivers side, got in, started the engine,
and we were off.
I did not like where she was driving. It was not exactly a good part of
town we were driving in. Very low rent, with players on the corners,
winos in alleys, white boys cruising the streets looking for drugs.
Mrs. Johnson said, "When we get out of the car, I want you to do the bitch
walk I showed you. I want you to play it up, walk like a slut, walk as
ridiculously feminine as you can. I will open the door for you, then
you'll do your thing and follow me. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Mrs. Johnson."
We continued to drive, then she pulled up in front of a row of
storefronts, and parked. I did not like the looks of this neighborhood
at all. There was a group of five or six black guys hanging out near
where we parked, and they were watching what was happening. Mrs. Johnson
exited the car. I could see the guys eyeing Mrs. Johnson, and loudly
making comments, which I could not hear. Mrs. Johnson walked around
the car, and opened the door.
I felt like I was going to piss myself, but was able to hold it in.
I began to tremble. She said, "Out, Mary. Follow me. And walk like a
bitch, or I promise you, you will live to regret it."
I swung my legs out of the car, got out, and stood up. Mrs. Johnson began
walking away from me. As if I were in a dream, I put my left hand on my
hip, right palm down, then began walking, crossing one foot in front of
the other.
The brothers on the corner stared at disbelief at first, and the busted
out laughing hysterically. They acted like they had never seen such
a hilarious sight. I followed Mrs. Johnson, walking like she had taught
me, walking "like a bitch". I could not make out exactly what the guys
were saying, maybe it's just that I don't remember or don't WANT to
remember. But I do remember hearing "bitch", "ho", "faggot", "cocksucker".
I continued to follow Mrs. Johnson to a door beside one of the stores.
Mrs. Johnson pressed the button, and through the speaker I heard a
male voice, "What!"
"It's Mary."
I heard a buzzing, then Mrs. Johnson pushed open the door and entered.
I followed her into the building, then up the steps. I was thankful to
be away from the taunting and jeering of the guys on the street.
Chapter 13 - Lessons
We walked up to the top floor. At a door, Mrs. Johnson knocked. The
door opened... it was chained, so it only opened a bit. Whoever opened
the door must have recognized Mrs. Johnson, because the door was closed,
then opened again, and Mrs. Johnson walked in. I followed.
Rap music was playing. I smelled incense. The place was all done up in
reds and blacks, and the lights were dim. A black guy stood inside the
door; he was dressed, well, like a pimp.
He said, "Mary Johnson. How you been, girl? It's been too long."
Then he looked at me. He looked at me from head to toe, then from toe
to head, and shook his head. "Now if that don't beat all. Cheri said
you was coming over, and I just had to see this for myself." He began
chuckling. "Dressed like a bitch. Damn, dude, dressed like a bitch.
If that don't beat all."
Then, to Mrs. Johnson: "Have a seat, girl. Cheri'll be right in.
Get you something?" Mrs. Johnson said, "No thanks." Then to me:
"You can just stand right there, bitch, I'm not getting you nothin'.
Faggots. Never can tell."
Mrs. Johnson looked at me and said, "Surprised? Didn't think I knew
this part of town? A woman like me has lots of time on my hands,
with the kids in school, not having to work and such. I do volunteer
work with the ladies club in my spare time. Met Sweet Jack here, and
Cheri while helping those less fortunate. Cheri's a great lady...
you'll like her... a real spark plug. She makes me laugh, and laughing's
something I don't do enough. And Jack... well." She giggled.
"Jack makes me laugh, too. Don't you, Jack?"
"Girl, you a fine woman... and got taste, too. Least I THOUGHT so,
but now I see you hangin' with SISSIES... you need a man, girl. A real
man, not like that down-town lookin' bitch you married, or THIS...
THIS... this shit'll fuck you up, girl."
Mrs. Johnson laughed, then said. "Jack, now you know me better than
that, I..." and then I heard footsteps in the hall. Mrs. Johnson and
Jack turned. A tall, thin woman entered the room. Wearing a tube top
and shorts. Long, blonde hair, looked to be a B cup, and extremely sexy.
"Mary! Thanks for stopping by! So good to see you!" Mrs. Johnson
stood and hugged the woman. Cheri continued, "How ARE you? I've missed
you!"
Mrs. Johnson said, "Cheri, it's good to see you. But don't call me
'Mary' any more. Call me 'Anne'." She then nodded to me, and said,
"THAT'S Mary, now."
Cheri looked at me with a smile which showed both amusement and contempt.
She said, "Mary. How sweet. Want to be a bitch, do you?
In-fucking-credible." Then to Mrs. Johnson. "This is going to cost
you, you realize that, don't you?"
Mrs. Johnson replied, "Like I said on the phone, the cost does not matter.
I want you to do a good job with Mary here. Take her under your arm,
Cheri. Treat her right, but with firmness. Don't let her get hurt,
unless she gives you a problem."
Cheri said to Mrs. Johnson, "Don't you worry, Mare... I mean, Anne... you
know me better than that."
Mrs. Johnson looked at me and said, "Now, Mary, Cheri is going to help you
on your road to womanhood. I want you to obey her. If you're a good girl,
I'll come and pick you up in a day or two. If not, I've made it clear to
Sweet Jack that he is to put you in your place, so do what Cheri tells you
to do. Do I make myself clear, young lady?"
I had a hard time replying. Then, looking at the floor, I said, "Yes,
ma'am."
"Good girl. Cheri and Jack will look after you for the next day or so,
so pay attention to them, and be a good girl. Make me proud of you,
Mary." She then stood, exchanged pleasantries with Jack and Cheri,
then left.
END OF PART IV
I have to say I was intimidated by the reviews I received from the previous
three parts. I knew that some of you were waiting for something as good
as those parts, and it made it so that I didn't want to even continue for
fear of disappointing. So I decided to just write, and see what happens.
I know I've strayed from the strict 'housewife' theme I had intended, but
I will return to it, as will Mary/Jason/Anne, eventually Bill, and others
(maybe in the next part... we'll see ;) Anyway, in this story are my
little dollies, and sweet Janey is playing dollies in front of you. I hope
you enjoy watching them... that would make me happy... I hope this is not
taken the wrong way but I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for
amusement, just as a little girl plays with her dolls just for the sake of
playing with dolls, and am having great fun.
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