Lady Janice Of Sterling - Part II free porn video

May be copied by anyone for any purpose whatsoever. Lady Janice of Sterling by RH Music PART II: The Situation Begins to Spiral Out of Control Chapter 13: Household Chores At the exact same time that Jack was putting the moves on my wife, I was in my office, having a homemade sandwich for lunch. It was now about two months since I had started wearing bras (during the day) and nightgowns (during the night) for Janice. Two months, and so many changes! My mind traveled over to my briefcase, which I knew contained a moist pair of panties that Janice had worn just yesterday. Should I take them out to enjoy them for a minute? My penis shifted uncomfortably in my tight, white, control-top panty. My life was now overflowing with sexual tension, and all of Janice's little daily rituals and 'new traditions' seemed to just pile it on. For example, it wasn't enough that my penis was encased in lacy, silky panties. It wasn't enough that my breasts were being encased and hugged by a satiny bra, which tugged at my shoulders whenever I moved. No, that wasn't nearly enough for Janice. Because I had to have her soiled panties with me as well. "So you can take them out and smell me, whenever you'd like," she said, sweetly. "All part of my nefarious plan to make you totally addicted to my body, to bind you to me... forever." As if I wasn't already bound by our marriage vows. I took another look at the briefcase. In my mind's eye I could see her midnight blue nylon panties nestled in the zip-loc bag, tucked in behind some papers. Later tonight I knew I would be seeing tomorrow's panties up close and personal, since my worship of her crotch had become a part of our daily ritual. It began every morning at her dressing table. Each and every day she would provide me a copy of my oath which, with my nose in her crotch, I would be required to recite. Recently, at Janice's suggestion, I had begun making additions to my daily oath. These were always worshipful suggestions, and they would change every day. For example, I might start off with, "I, Paul Johnson, completely under the spell of my goddess, who controls me, mind, body and spirit, do solemnly swear..." Or, I might add on to her name, and say something like "Lady Janice, whose smells, touch, taste, and vision I have become dependent upon as much as I have become dependent on air for breathing..." Yes, corny, I know. But it's all just role-playing, right? If you can't be corny with your wife while playing a role, then when can you? Of course, at some point the boundaries between role and reality begin to blur... or disappear. Like cooking, for example. All of the dinners became my responsibility, as well as all of the cleaning around the house. Was that part of the role, or was that part of real life? Janice was getting home later and later, and her job had gotten a lot busier after her promotion. Janice and I had both been elated with her promotion, of course. She saw it as evidence that her newly assertive personality was being rewarded in the workplace. Cynically, I thought that it probably had just as much to do with her shorter dresses, stockings, low-cut blouses, and high-heels. But of course, I would never say that to her. So I began to work through lunch so I could leave a half-hour early to get home in time to prepare dinner. Janice was always very particular about having dinner ready for her as soon as she got home. "By the time I get home, it's already late for dinner," she explained, "and I just don't think we should make it one minute later. Don't you agree?" Of course I did... it made sense. And I really didn't mind cooking for her, after all, she was always so appreciative of my efforts. But she definitely wanted dinner on time! Once I had to stay late at work - something came up at the last minute - and so dinner was not quite done when she got home. "What do you mean, it's not ready?" She asked, on the verge of being angry. "I'm... it's just... something came up at work, and I just couldn't get home in time..." I stammered, surprised at her attitude. "Fine!" she said, "I'll just make my own dinner." And to my astonishment, she went to the kitchen and made herself a sandwich. "But... dinner will be ready in just 35 minutes," I pleaded with her. "Can't you wait?" She glared at me. "I expect dinner to be ready when I walk in the door," she said. "We talked about it, right? We agreed, right? And yet, it's not done. 35 minutes is exactly 35 minutes too late. I am going to eat this sandwich and then go to bed, and if you know what's good for you, you'll sleep in the guest bedroom tonight." And with that, Janice took her sandwich into the bedroom and slammed the door. *** That was the last time I was late for dinner! From then on, I made sure to always have a backup plan, something which could be thrown together quickly, just in case. My boss, Rachael, certainly noticed the difference. "Your productivity has dropped, Paul," she said as we had our quarterly meeting together. "Your task completion is down by more than 30%... is everything OK?" "Oh, sure," I said, "It's just..." "Just what?" "Well, Janice has had to work late a lot recently, she just got a promotion... and well, I guess I've had to take on a larger share of the housework." "Really??" Rachael's eyes lit up at my admission. "If only I could find a husband like you! I'll have to ask Janice how she convinced you to sacrifice your career for hers." "Well, that's not how I'd put it..." I said quickly, horrified at Rachael's implication. "It'll just be temporary, really. Just until Janice has a chance to clean up the mess at work she inherited." "Well, I wouldn't be too sure," Rachael said. "Regardless, I'll have to shift some of your tasks to Daniel, I hope that's okay. After all, the work has to get done." My heart sunk. I knew that unless I started working more hours I might be out of a job. "Sure," I said, "but it will only be temporary, I swear." *** Unfortunately, it wasn't just dinner that was cutting into my work hours. Over the last month, Janice had pretty much made it clear that I was to be responsible for all of the housework as well. "Sweetie..." she would always start this way. "I brought home a ton of work to do. Could you do the laundry? It really needs to be done." Or, "I'm sorry, honey, there's no way I'm going to be able to clean the bathrooms today, and they are getting positively filthy. Would you be a dear and do it for me?" "Maybe it's time to get maid service?" I inquired, cautiously one evening. "No way!" Janice slammed her palm down on the table, causing me to jump. "Strangers? Wandering around our house? Doing who knows what? What if they discovered all of your lady's lingerie?" "I guess you have a point," I backed down, quickly. "Honey," Janice said, soothingly, "I know you've had to do all this extra work around the house, but I promise, I'll pitch in as soon as my job starts to let up a bit." Janice reached over to stroke my neck. "OK..." I said, mollified somewhat. "But until I do, would you mind washing my stockings? I know it's a pain, but they really do need to be washed by hand and then hung up to dry. They are expensive, and they really need just the best of care." I looked into her eyes, feeling completely trapped. With her new job, Janice was making considerably more money than I was, and so I knew it just made sense that I picked up the slack at home. "Yes, I can do them," I said, defeated, taking on yet another household chore. "You're the best," she said. *** And so I was kept busy. Evenings were spent cooking dinner and cleaning up. Weekends were spent doing laundry and cleaning the house from top to bottom, including vacuuming, dusting, scrubbing toilets, etc. etc. I found myself reluctantly taking on chores, which we had never done before. Things like hand-washing our lingerie. They had always been machine washed before, but now, for some reason, Janice felt that only hand-washing (and hang-drying) would do. And ironing the sheets. Janice had *never*, *ever*, ironed sheets before, but now I was supposed to do it. And since I had to wash the sheets every week, which meant ironing them every week as well. "The sheets look wonderful!" Janice enthused, after I had ironed them for the first time. "Don't you think they look so nice and crisp! Oh, I can't thank you enough, I've always wanted to do them, but never had time. Thank you, Paul." "You're welcome," I mumbled. Well, at least she was grateful. Pretty soon I was ironing not only the sheets, but Janice's entire wardrobe as well. "Honey?" Janice called out. "Yes?" Janice was in her closet when I entered. "I'm totally swamped preparing for the meeting tomorrow. Would you mind?" She held up her blouse. "Mind what?" I asked, not comprehending. "I need you to iron this blouse for me, if it's not too much trouble. I wouldn't ask, except I'm going to be getting to bed late enough as-is." "Sure!" I agreed, assuming that this was a one-time thing. "And...?" she asked, tentatively. "Something else?" "Well, the only shoes I have to wear with this suit are these black ones, but they're all scuffed up..." "Do you want me to shine them for you?" "Would you? Oh Paul, I don't know how I'd cope without you!" "Sure..." I sighed. "Oh, and if you could touch up this skirt with the iron that'd be great, too. It got a little creased the last time I wore it. Thanks!" *** Of course the next night, Janice asked me to iron her clothes again. And this time, she had a dark blue pair of shoes, which needed to be cleaned and polished. On the third night, she didn't even ask. I just found her outfit, blouse, suit, and shoes waiting for me. *** Other than all of the cooking, cleaning, and laundry, there were easily a thousand other small tasks, which Janice asked of me -- tasks which I would group into the category of 'personal servant'. Anything and everything which Janice needed, if she could get me to do it, she would. "Paul? Take these to Office Depot and get 5 copies of each, collated and stapled. Thanks." "Paul? I just left my clothes on the floor over there. Would you mind putting them in the hamper? Thanks." "Paul? I need you to take this suit to the cleaners, OK? And you'll pick it up when it's done, won't you?" "Paul? I need to take this hem up, just a half inch. You can do that, can't you? Oh, and don't use the machine, I know you can do a better job by hand. Thanks!" "Paul? Would you make a fresh cup of coffee for me? Thanks!" At some point, after a particularly exasperating evening of request after request, I was just about fed up. I had just gone out to the office supply store where I bought a new red pen for Janice. A whole trip out for just one fucking ballpoint pen! "Here's your pen," I said, slamming it down on the desk where she was working. "Maybe in the future I should kneel by your side, so I could be instantly available for your next command, my Lady Janice?" I said, with heavy, heavy sarcasm. "Really?" Janice looked up at me. "What a wonderful idea!" "No!" I stepped back, horrified. "I was just joking!" "Maybe you were," she said, "but it's still a good idea. After all, sometimes it seems like I wait forever until you answer my call." Janice got up and fetched a throw-pillow from the closet. She dropped it on the floor next to her desk. "From now on," she said, "this is your 'beck and call' pillow. Whenever this is on the floor, I want you to be kneeling on it, ready to handle my every need." "No..." I moaned. "Please, no. I have a life too... I mean..." "Listen," Janice reasoned with me, "My work is just insane now. OK? And the sooner I can get through this, the sooner our life can get back to normal. You want that, don't you?" "Yes..." "Well then, surely you'll want to help out in any way that you can, right? If only temporarily?" "Sure... I guess." "In any way you can?" I sighed. "Yes, in any way I can." "Good. Now kneel on the pillow..." I hesitated. Would I really do this? "But Janice, this is just too much. I mean, I really do want to help out, but this..." "You said yesterday that you would do whatever you could, right?" "Yes, I remember..." "Well, can you do this? Is it impossible for you to kneel here next to me and be my assistant?" "No, it's not impossible, but I just think my time could be better used elsewhere." "I'll be the judge of that," Janice said, coldly. "I need you to be here for me. Specifically, I need to you be right here, kneeling and ready to help at a moment's notice, for me. You said you would do anything you can. You can do this. So kneel." I hid my face in my hands, for some reason, I was suddenly very short of breath. "Paul?" Janice looked at me, expectantly. I hesitated and turned away for a second. For some reason, my breath was coming out in only short, quick gasps. I closed my eyes and tried to think, but all I had pounding through my head was her cold words: 'You can do this'. "I don't have all evening," she said, behind me. I turned around and looked at Janice with weepy eyes. She simply pointed to the pillow by her side. With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I sank down and knelt on my new 'beck and call pillow'. I knew I was giving in and giving up a part of my freedom. Intellectually, I might have thought it was only temporary, something needed to help with her job. But if I had been honest with myself, I think I always knew that it would become a permanent part of our life together. A single tear leaked out of my eye as I looked up at Janice, who had already turned back to her work. After about 10 minutes, Janice gave me her first command. Without even glancing in my direction she said, "Go to the 24 hour grocery store and purchase a dog collar for a large dog," she said, simply. "What?" I asked, incredulous. "Why do you need that?" **WHAM** Janice slammed her palm on the desk, causing me to jerk away. "NEVER ASK WHY!!" she shouted. "WHY DO YOU HAVE TO KNOW *WHY*? I THINK THE COMMAND IS CLEAR, ISN'T IT?" After a second to settle down, Janice continued in a more reasonable tone. "I realize this is new," she said, "so I really shouldn't be so upset. But I've always hated that you have to know the reasons for everything. So, rule number 1: never ask why. If a command is unclear, you can ask for clarification on exactly *what* you need to do. But you may never ask *why*. My reasons are my own." Suddenly I realized just how dominant Janice had become. Her outburst made it clear that this was her new personality... this was not 'role- playing' any more. At least not for her. "Do you understand?" Janice asked, quietly. "Yes." "Now, let's try again. Go to the 24 hour grocery store and purchase a dog collar for a large dog." Without saying a word, I got up, got my car keys, and headed out of the house. Fortunately, the grocery store is pretty close, and so in about 20 minutes I was back, kneeling on the 'beck and call' pillow and holding the dog collar. As soon as I was back, Janice gave me her next command. "Take off all your clothes except your panties and bra. Take the dog collar out of its package and put it on." When I was done, I went back to kneeling on the pillow. The dog collar fit snugly around my neck. I understood now that it was intended to make me feel more subservient and conscious of my new role. It worked. And what was worse, it worked on my penis too. I was rock hard. Janice looked me over, approvingly. "Much better," she said, "now you look the part." *** And then Janice began to talk. The talk was all about her new job, specifically the data she was in the process of compiling, what the data might say about how things were being run and what kind of a job her staff was doing, and how things might be improved. "So, what do you think I should do?" she asked. I was taken aback. I had been on my knees for the better part of an hour. Since there was nothing else to do, I had been quietly listening to her talk, learning more about her new job than I had learned over the previous month. After I gave her my opinion, she nodded and then went back to work. And then it hit me: Janice needed more than just a lackey to run her errands, she wanted someone to bounce ideas off of, to discuss things at work with her! Suddenly, my new position felt about 100 times easier to bear. She didn't want me for just what my *body* could do, but she also wanted my *mind* as well. Of course, there was also another way to look at it, which I didn't realize until much later. Over the last two months, Janice had successfully brought my body into her service, and now she was bringing my mind, all of my mental capacities, into her servitude as well. So there I knelt, occasionally fetching a glass of water or a snack, and listening to Janice talk and talk. And then I made my second mistake of the evening. "I have an idea..." I said, breaking into her discussion. Janice's face turned to stone, as she fixed me with a frosty stare. I could tell she was just barely keeping her temper in check. "When I want your ideas, I will ask for them. Otherwise, you do *NOT* speak unless spoken too. Do you understand?" "Yes..." I mumbled, "I'm sorry." "Not sorry enough, I don't think..." she muttered, as she got up from her desk and left the room. She came back with a wet bar of soap and a role of duct tape. "Open up!" she said. Janice pushed the soap into my mouth, tore off a piece of duct tape, and then taped my mouth shut. "There!" she said. "Problem solved. And I bet you won't forget your position and talk out of turn again." And, just as if nothing was amiss, Janice sat back down at her desk and resumed her work. After just a few minutes, my mouth was full of saliva and I had to swallow. Ugh! Soapy saliva ran down my throat. As time wore on, the bar dissolved more and more, and I was finding it harder and harder to keep everything together. After thirty minutes, I began to tear up. After forty-five minutes I began to shake. At fifty-five minutes, Janice stopped her monologue and looked at me. "My poor dear," she said, gently. "Have we learned our lesson?" I frantically nodded my head. "And you promise to never again speak unless spoken to?" I nodded, tears running down my cheeks. "You swear?" Once more, I nodded. "OK, you can go take the soap out of your mouth." And with that I raced to the bathroom, where I ripped the duct tape from my face and rinsed my mouth out with water. *** I now understood exactly how Janice wanted me to behave when I knelt on the 'beck and call' pillow. First, I was to wear only panties, a bra, and my dog collar. Second, I was to jump up, *immediately*, whenever Janice asked for something. Third, I was pay careful attention, quietly, to everything she said, and fourth I was only to speak when asked to. After a week or two of 'beck and call', I realized something else: That I enjoyed it. First of all, it was undeniably sexy, kneeling before my sexy wife in only my panties, being submissive and helpful. But more than that it was relaxing. During 'beck and call', I had nothing to do and nothing to worry about. I would just immediately fulfill every one of Janice's requests. Janice was in charge. I had no rights, and therefore, no responsibilities. It was strangely liberating. Gradually, Janice began to use 'beck and call' more and more often. One evening I found the 'beck and call' pillow in front of the couch. "Tonight's my night off," Janice said, smiling at me. "But not yours!" And so, seeing the pillow on the floor, I dutifully stripped down to panties and a bra, put on my collar, and knelt before her. The demands that evening were all much more personal than normal. The first request was for a foot massage. "And take your time at it," she commanded. Of course, I have always had a minor foot fetish, and the smell of her sweat intermingled with shoe leather was wonderfully. I was fully erect in no time. "Mmmmmm," she purred, "that's wonderful. I'm going to have to do this more often." 'Uh-oh,' I thought to myself. After the foot massage was a pedicure. Janice instructed me on how to clean off the old nail polish, clean up the nails and cuticles, and then to apply new polish (two coats of color, and a coat of sealant). Once I had done the nails on her feet, it was basically the same procedure for the nails on her hands. "Why, they're wonderful!" Janice said, admiringly. I blushed a bit at her compliments. I was proud of how careful a job I had been able to do. "This will save me so much time," she continued, "not having to go to the salon to get my nails done. Thank you sweetie!" Janice kissed me on the cheek, sealing my fate. Unwittingly I had just agreed to yet another task - that of personal manicurist. After nails, Janice had me give her a neck massage ("Mmmmm," she said, purring contentedly) and then brush out her hair ("one hundred strokes!"). And then finally, the last task: trim her pubic hair. "Cut it nice and short," she said, "I just hate when it peeks out from around my panties. Don't you?" And so, with a small pair of scissors, I *very* carefully trimmed the hair around her pussy so it was a nice, neat bush. When I was done, Janice wiggled her hips enticingly at me. "As long as you're down there..." she said. I looked up at her. I was between her legs, kneeling on my 'beck and call' pillow. For some reason, I don't know why, I didn't do anything. I just waited for her. I guess I was waiting to be told what to do... like I was supposed to do when at her 'beck and call'. "Lick my pussy," Janice said, delighted to give me the direct command. *** Of all the changes to which I was forced to submit, this was perhaps the most pleasurable: I spent a lot of time between my wife's legs. It started as soon as she got home. Always, I would greet her, drop immediately to my knees, wait for her to raise her skirt, and then kiss the crotch of her panties where it covered her pubic mound. The same thing happened every morning when I would kiss her "good bye". Once she had established the 'beck and call' pillow, Janice started dropping it directly in front of her. This always meant that I was to kneel with my face gently nestled in her crotch. If she was working at her desk, it further meant that I would have to crawl under the desk, being careful to not bump my head. Of course, even with me in this position, Janice would keep talking about her work, occasionally reaching down to push in on the back of my head, causing my face to press deeper into her crotch, sometimes rubbing her pubic mound up and down over my face, pressing my nose deep into the cotton covered valley of her vagina. And then, getting ready for bed, we would start each night by putting a condom on me. Janice would do this herself. First, she would lift up my nightie, pull down my panties, and then pull out my penis. No matter what, I was always hard -- surrounded as I was all day by her dominant personality, my feminine lingerie, and her smells of sex, musk, and other bodily functions -- I really couldn't help myself. Submitting passively to her commands meant that I was generally hard most of the day. And so, it was always an easy matter for her to take the condom, place it on the head of my penis, and then roll it down the shaft of my penis with long, firm, knee-weakening, strokes. After tucking my penis back into my panties and smoothing out my nightgown, Janice would lay in bed, propped up by pillows, and with legs spread. She would point to her pussy and say, simply, "lick." And I would. And I loved it. Nestled between her legs, lapping at her pussy, sucking and nibbling and licking the nubbin of her clitoris, hearing her moaning and grasping my head as she came -- it was fantastic. After orgasming, she would shout at me to hold very still and not move a muscle, my head trapped between her thighs, my face pressed hard against her pussy, her legs clenching and unclenching, and her pussy spasming against my face until her orgasm had completely washed over her. And then she would hold very still, gradually coming down from her high, my nose filled with wet, sticky pussy hair, my breath coming out in tiny gasps - nearly suffocating, my mouth full of her juices. "Now clean me up," she would say next, and I would dutifully lick her entire crotch area with the intention of cleaning up her juices. And everything I licked up, I would have to swallow. No towels or facial tissue allowed. I would always start with her thighs, then move to her belly and then on the outsides of her pussy lips. Proper cleanup often required sucking on her pubic hair to make sure that all of her sexual lubrications were cleansed away and swallowed. And then, finally, once she had settled down and her sensitivity decreased, I would be allowed to run my tongue carefully through her vagina, scooping out juices and saliva and swallowing it all, sucking with the intention of sucking up fluids and making sure that everything was as clean as possible. And, of course, the cleanup process often made her horny for a second go-round, and then we started all over again. And then, sometimes a third time, and just once: a fourth time. Thank goodness for the condom! Janice instituted the condom so I wouldn't stain my lingerie with "accidents", which almost always happened. After all, I was lovingly performing a most intimate act with my face, tongue, and lips kissing her and licking her and absorbing her juices -- including pussy juice and (possibly) drops of urine. And my penis would be rubbing against the bed, and I was always wearing some luscious nightgown or babydoll nightie, and of course I had been intensely over-stimulated all day long. And so it was not uncommon for me to come once or twice in my condom. And every time she would say, "Oh! I see you've taken care of yourself. How nice! You must really like to lick my pussy, don't you?" And of course, I would have to admit that I do. In fact, that I love it. "I'm so glad!" she would say, pulling on a pair of panties, pulling up the covers. "It's only just the best way to prepare for bed," after which she would drift off to sleep. *** But one night, I was able to control myself. "I haven't come yet," I told her, "do you think we could.... ?" "What, have intercourse?" Janice asked. Suddenly she looked very tired. "I'm sorry sweetie! But you just wore me out! I guess you're just too good at pussy licking. Not that *I'm* complaining, mind you!" "But..." I indicated my hard penis. "Oh, sweetie, I won't mind at all if you go into the bathroom and jerk- off." "Okay..." "Oh, don't you look like a poor puppy dog. Here, I'll help." Janice picked up her panties and wiped her pussy with them. She had been wearing the panties all day long, so they were already pretty rank. "Take these into the bathroom and smell them as you jack-off. Okay?" "Okay..." "And as you smell these, and as you're pulling on your cock, I want you to recite something for me, would you do that?" "Sure." "Good! Just say this over and over: 'More than anything, I love the taste and smell of my wife's pussy.' Can you do that for me?" "Yes." "Good boy!" And with a pat on my behind, Janice directed me to the bathroom, where I sat on the toilet, stroking my hard cock through the nightgown with one hand, and holding the crotch of her wet panties to my nose with the other. As I breathed her sent in deep, I recited my lines over and over: 'More than anything, I love the taste and smell of my wife's pussy. More than anything, I love the taste and smell of my wife's pussy. More than anything..." *** And so, over time, I became to feel safe and loved when I was between her legs. It was comforting. And true to her evil plans, I had, in fact, become addicted to her smells, and whenever stressed at work I would take out her old panties (usually still moist) from my briefcase, and take a good long smell. It never failed to calm me down. *** And so there I was, in the office, looking at my briefcase. Realizing that it was hopeless, I reached over, snapped open the cover, and pulled out the plastic bag which contained her panties. "Whatcha got there?" Rachael asked, appearing at my door as if from out of nowhere. I looked, surprised, and quickly hid the panties in my lap. "Ummm... it's personal." "Oh? Come on, Paul, I'm your friend. You can tell me anything." "Uh..." I squirmed, desperately trying to think of a good lie to explain what I was holding. "They're from Janice..." I began, lamely. "Really?" Rachael said, her eyes opening wide. "You mean, like something of hers which you carry around in your briefcase all day?" "Uhhh... yeah," I admitted. "So, what is it?" Rachael's voice had a slightly harder, more demanding edge to it than I was used to. I blushed bright red at this point. "Panties," I mumbled. Janice clapped her hands over her mouth in surprise. "How delightful!" she squealed. "Honestly, she has you so well trained, I just can't believe it. I'm going to have to talk to her sometime." "No!" I said, frightened by what Janice might say to my boss. "I mean, she's awfully busy these days." "I see," Rachael said, not buying my excuse for a second. "Anyway, Paul, the reason why I came in here is that your work is still falling behind, and so I've had to shift a couple of your biggest projects off to Daniel." I started to protest, but Rachael was having none of it. "I know that this is just temporary, until you and Janice get things back on track. I mean, you've been a great employee in the past, so I'm more than willing to cut you some slack... for a little while." "Thanks, Rachael..." I said, feeling powerless and defeated as I watched my career crumble before my eyes, "I appreciate it." "Well, it's not all just me being nice to you. Now that Daniel's doing the bulk of your old job, I was hoping that you wouldn't mind helping me out as an assistant... just until you get back on your feet, of course." "What do you mean?" "Well you know my secretary left last week, and I've had the devil of a time finding someone to replace her and things are just piling up left and right. I know it's not really in your job description, but, again, it's only until I've found someone permanent and you're able to devote 100% to your old job again." I looked at Rachael in shock. Secretary? She wanted me to be her secretary?? "So, what do you say?" Rachael asked. "You'd really be doing me a huge favor. It's more than secretarial work -- you'd really be my organizational assistant." And so, wanting to get back on Rachael's good side, I agreed. *** Just then, Janice received a phone call. "Hello, this is Janice," she said, all business. "Hello... Lady Janice of Sterling," said the man on the other end of the line. Chapter 14: Janice wants to move things to the next level "I want to move things to the next level," said Janice. I was kneeling next to Janice on my 'beck and call' pillow. "What do you mean?" I asked, worried. "Well, I want you to be more feminine," Janice said, simply. "I get horny when you become more feminine." I gulped. Janice was repeating her mind-control command back to me... where did that come from?? "Like what?" I asked. "First," she said, in a businesslike fashion, "I want you to go to my stylist and have her color your hair." "What color?" Janice smiled. "Nothing too noticeable. Just a lighter brown with blonde highlights. And she'll also give you a more feminine cut, as well. And, let's pluck these eyebrows into a thin, arching feminine shape, shall we?" "Uhmmmm..." I started, about to object, but Janice cut me off. "Second, it's time to get earrings in both ears. Lots of men do it, and so should you." "No...." I said, feeling the pit in my stomach start to ache. "Third, laser hair removal. I want you to permanently remove all your facial hair." "What??" "And, of course, you'll need to shave your legs and underarms every day," Janice continued. "Janice, please..." Unfortunately, she wasn't done yet. "Fourth, I think it's time you started to wear dresses, at least at home, and who knows, maybe we'll go out too?" "No!" "And finally, I want you to get a tattoo. Something simple, but exquisitely feminine. Like a small rose on your shoulder." I got up off the pillow and backed away from Janice. "No!" I said, "I can't do all that! I... I won't! Already I'm about to lose my job at work, if I start going in with earrings, blonde hair, and plucked eyebrows they will think I've lost my mind!" "So, you're OK with the hair removal and the tattoo?" Janice asked. "No! Just stop!" "Listen," Janice said, "I can't force you to do these things. I don't want to force you to do these things. I much rather that you do them on your own." I breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Janice." "However," she said, with an evil smile, "I can help 'encourage' you to do the right thing." "Encourage? How?" "You're still at my beck and call, right?" "Yes..." "Fine, lean over and touch your knees with your hands." I did as instructed. My panties pulled tight over my bottom. Janice opened up the side drawer of her desk and pulled out a wooden paddle. "Say 'hello' to your encouragement!" Janice said. Janice stepped behind me and began to very lightly massage my buns with the paddle. "This will be known as your 'evening spanking,'" Janice said. "You will receive a spanking every evening until you agree to each and every one of my requests. Do you understand?" "Yes," I said, my voice quivering. "And after each spanking," the way she was talking, Janice had clearly expected that I would refuse, "I will ask you if you still refuse me. Only after the spanking will you be given the opportunity to accept my demands. Do you understand?" "Yes... but please, Janice... please!" I was pleading with her. And yet, for some reason, I just stood there, my hands on my knees, bent over with my ass a waiting target for her paddle. Why didn't I just get up and run away? Did I want the spanking? "And just to make things interesting," Janice said, this time with an evil cackle, "every time you refuse me, I will give you not just one, but two more days of spankings. Do you understand?" "Janice... please!!" "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" Janice grabbed my hair and pulled it back, hard. "Yes!" I said, suddenly frightened of her. "Good," she said. "Now, let's begin." **WHACK** with no warning or build-up Janice hauled back the paddle and brought it down on my pantied ass. SHIT! that hurt! I danced on my toes but kept my position. **WHACK** "Unh," I grunted. The panties seemed to provide no protection whatsoever. "Feel nice?" Janice asked, coyly. "Do you think you'll like getting spanked every night? Hmmmm?" **WHACK** "Gaaah!" I said. **WHACK** What was wrong with me??? Why was I just standing here and taking this??? **WHACK** I couldn't help myself: I reached back with my hands to try and fend off further spanks. But Janice was having none of it, she just grabbed on to both wrists, held them tightly together at the small of my back with one hand and continued spanking with the other. **WHACK** "NNNnnnhhhh!" I cried out. This time I struggled to try and move away or to free my hands, but her grip on my wrists was firm and I got nowhere. Janice pushed my arms further up my back, causing me to bend over even more. **WHACK** "OHhh! Please!" I shouted. "Please, what?" Janice said, evilly. **WHACK** God, the pain was getting bad! The spanks were definitely getting harder. I stomped my foot, trying to cope. **WHACK** SHIT! My ass was on fire! Pain radiated out from my tortured buns, causing me to loose my breath. **WHACK** Just as I had decided I couldn't take even one more swat, Janice said "And now, one more for luck!" **WHACK** Janice released me and I fell down onto my 'beck and call' pillow, holding my ass and whimpering in pain. My face was wet! Apparently I had been crying. "Get up!" she hissed, as she grabbed me by the arm and dragged me over to the bed. Janice lay back on the pillows, spread her legs and pointed to her pussy, and said, "lick!" Janice was sopping wet. She had become turned on by spanking me! But even worse than that, once the spanking stopped, my penis became hard. Her juices flowed over my lips and face as I immediately attacked her clit. "Yes! Yes!" Janice shouted. "Yesssssss...." she grunted. Reaching down and grasping my head she pulled me tight to her crotch. As I was clutched in this vise grip, Janice tensed up... and came. "Ohhhh..." she sighed, releasing me. And that's exactly when I felt it: my penis jerking, waves of pleasure, my balls clenching. I had come too. *** I lay in bed awake that night, going over and over what had just happened. Next to me, Janice was snoring softly. Why had I done it? Why had I just bent over and let Janice spank me? And did I really find it pleasurable? If not, then why had it been so easy to orgasm afterwards? I looked over at Janice. Her face was angelic when she was sleeping, just like her old self. I couldn't see even a hint of the controlling, demanding person that she had become. Her new personality. Her new personality, which was all my fault. If only I hadn't implanted the mind control command, then Janice wouldn't be 'Lady Janice,' instead she would be just 'Janice,' my loving, if somewhat traditional, wife. But which Janice did I really want? The conventional, cuter, sweeter Janice? Or the newly aggressive, demanding, controlling Janice? I felt my penis shift inside my tight panties. *sigh*, just thinking of the new Janice made me hard. It was becoming increasingly clear that I was, deep down, truly submissive. The more dominant Janice became, the more I submitted to her will, and the more submissive and pliable I became in general. But I was beginning to reach my breaking point. Blonde hair, laser hair removal, ear-rings... what was I going to do about those things? Of course I realized that nothing but the laser hair removal would be permanent, and that would take several treatments, probably. Oh yeah, and except the tattoo, of course. In fact, it was the tattoo, which bothered me the most. A rose tattoo, on my shoulder. A permanent mark on my body demonstrating my new position. Since it would be on the back of my shoulder, I knew I could keep it hidden, but still -- this was something that could never be undone. But what was the problem? After all, I had agreed to other permanent changes in my life -- wearing panties and bras forever and ever. I had made a solemn oath, after all. But although my oaths were technically "permanent", I knew there was nothing physically permanent. Not like the tattoo... or the hair removal. Did I really want to give up any possibility of growing a beard or a moustache in the future? And where would all this stop? Would Janice next want me to get breast implants? Take hormones? And what about... oh my god... Sexual Reassignment Surgery? Stealthily I slipped out of bed. Janice snorted and rolled over, but stayed sound asleep. I grabbed my wallet from my nightstand and then walked to my closet. From the closet I gathered a change of clothes: jeans, an old shirt, socks. Searching in back I found a pair of old sneakers that I don't think Janice realized that I still had. After a second's indecision, I decided to add a clean pair of panties (Janice had removed all of my male underwear) and a bra to the pile (out of habit, I suppose). Next I went to the kitchen for a paper bag and the spare keys to the car, which we always keep in the 'junk drawer'. Then I top-toed quietly to the garage. Once in the garage, I placed the clothes in the paper bag along with money and a credit card (one which I rarely used), and then placed the bag under the back seat of my car. Next I took my spare keys and hid them on a shelf at the back of the garage, behind some old paint cans. As I slipped back into bed, a sense of relief flowed over me. I had no idea how things were going to turn out between Janice and me -- how much more dominant she would become and how much more I could take of it -- but at least now I had an escape plan. Chapter 15: More Encouragement "Here's your first assignment, Paul: Filing papers!" Rachael said. It was Monday, my first day as Rachael's 'organizational assistant', and I was in her office getting instructions. "My god, Rachael, I never realized how bad things were!" I said. Papers and folders where piled in stacks all over her office, with a couple of them as much as three feet (1m) high! "This isn't the worst of it, come with me," Rachael led me to the office next door. "See why I need help?" The office next door was completely full. Only a small path led inside, all the rest of the available space was stacked high with folders, papers, and binders. Rachael smiled at me. "The best part about having you as an assistant is that you already know our company and customers so well. It's fantastic, because there's so much I can use you for." I shifted, feeling uncomfortable in my new role. Should I allow myself to be 'used' by my boss? 'But it's only temporary,' I kept telling myself. *** That night, I was kneeling on the 'beck and call' pillow when Janice pulled out the spanking paddle. "It's time," she said. "Stand up and bend over." "Janice, please?" I whimpered as I got into position. She walked behind me and took a couple of moments to caress my buns through my nylon panties. Then, suddenly, she pulled them down. "This time, we're spanking your bare bottom," she said. "No!" I cried. The panties slipped down my legs and puddle around my ankles. Ignoring my pleas, Janice gave me my spanking, eleven of them, just like the night before. And my god but it hurt! You wouldn't think that a thin pair of panties would make any difference, but it did. And afterwards Janice made me stand there, my ass bright red and tears spilling down my cheeks. "Will you submit to my demands?" she asked. "No...." I said, sniffling. Janice smiled. "Very well! You refused yesterday and you refused today, so that's a minimum of four more spankings you will have to endure!" "No," I protested. "Please!" Janice held my head in her hands and gently kissed my cheek. "Every day you refuse means two more days of spankings added," she whispered into my ear, causing the hair on my back to rise up. "I don't care," I said, with false bravado. "I can take the spankings." "I thought you might," Janice said with an evil grin. "That's why I have prepared more 'encouragement' for tomorrow." As I knelt down between her legs to lick Janice to orgasm (three times!), I wondered what my 'additional encouragement' might be. *** I found out the very next morning. "Here's your bra for today," Janice said, sweetly, holding it up. "Welcome to your new 'encouragement'." I looked at the bra, shocked. The cups were lined with thumb tacks, all pointing *in*, towards my chest. "Come on," Janice said, "be a good girl and put this on." "No..." I gasped. As I looked closer, sewn into the center of each cup -- positioned directly over my nipples -- were bristle brushes, each about the size of a silver dollar. "Oh, you like it?" Janice said, sweetly. "I was so lucky to find a seamstress who could make it on such short notice. Now come on," she held the bra out by the straps, open, thumb tacks pointing towards me, "slip this on. Let's strap on your encouragement." I took a step towards her, but hesitated. "Please, no..." "Remember your oath, now come here." I held up my hands, "please..." I pleaded one last time. Janice slipped the satin straps over my arms and up my shoulders. The fabric of the bra was satin/polyester blend, and just a tiny bit stretchy. The construction of the bra was like a sports bra, with wide straps, and a curiously high neckline, front and back. Janice turned me around, pulled the bra tight around my chest, and then fastened the hooks, one by one. "Here, we'll set the hooks to the outer-most row of eyes," she said. "You mean, this is the loosest?" I asked. As Janice pulled the bra snug around my body, I felt the points of the thumbtacks in the cups press gently against my breasts, and the brush bristles rested lightly over my sensitive nipples. "Yes, this is the loosest. If you still need more encouragement tomorrow, we'll make it tighter. It has 5 settings." "Five!" I gasped out loud. Even at level 1, the tack points were pressing into my skin. It was a light touch and I knew that it would never break the skin, but still it was already uncomfortable. I felt Janice do something with the bra in back, and after a second I heard a soft *snick*. "What was that?" I asked, worried. "This bra is so great," Janice enthused, "it's got a locking feature. Isn't that cool? I just secured it with a little padlock. Now, the only way you can take it off is to cut it off. And of course, if you did that, I would know, wouldn't I? And you just know that if I ever found the bra to be damaged, your punishment that would be 100 times worse. And don't think I wouldn't!" I shuddered at the thought. Janice turned me around, "and now here you all, all locked in to your special encouragement. And look! With this high neckline you can't even slip the straps over your shoulders. Isn't that clever? Now, give me a kiss." Janice pulled me in close and gave me a deep kiss. It was clear that she had become excited by my discomfort. And then, to make matters worse, Janice pulled me into a hug. "Mmmh!" I gasped, feeling her breasts press against my bra, pressing the points harder against my skin. "Do you like that?" Janice whispered into my ear. "Want more?" I thought briefly of people who slept on a bed of nails, and how the nails wouldn't break the skin because there were too many of them. "Just think," Janice continued, "tomorrow it gets tighter. Won't that be wonderful? All those little tack points pressing into your delicate skin. Mmmmm." "And the next day," Janice increased the pressure of her hug, "tighter still. Is it too much to bear yet? And then," she hugged me even more, "even tighter. And now just a bit more," Janice pulled me into a bear hug, mashing her breasts against my chest pressing the points painfully onto my skin. "Please!" I cried out, struggling. Finally, Janice released me. I held my breasts gently and hunched over. "How long do I have to wear this torture device?" I asked. Janice smiled. "Why sweetie. Until you agree to my demands. This is your encouragement, remember?" Janice chuckled at me as I tried to work a finger into the bra to massage my hurt skin -- but I couldn't! The neckline was too tight. I worked my shoulders a bit to try and relieve the pressure from an irritating bristle that was poking directly into my left nipple. "Ohhhh..." I moaned, in frustration. Now both nipples were being poked! "Probably don't want to move your shoulders much, if you can help it," Janice counseled. "I imagine that too much of that could cause things to get a bit raw on your chest. I hope you don't have too much physical lifting to do in your job today." *** "I hope you don't mind, your job is going to involve a lot of physical lifting today," Rachael said, as I reported to her for today's assignments. I groaned. "What do you have in mind?" "Follow me," Janice walked over to the closet at the end of the hall. Inside the closet were shelves, and on the shelves were files -- stacked from floor all the way until they were touching the ceiling, about 9 feet (3m) high. "Oh my god," I groaned. Visions of me reaching up to get the files, and then opening the tall filing cabinets and filing them -- all of the arm motions would mean the bristles brushing gently over my nipples would do so, uninterrupted, all day long. "Exactly," Janice agreed, "it's a mess. These are last year's proposals. We don't have any room for them here, but we have a room of empty filing cabinets in the basement. Unfortunately, the elevator doesn't go down that far, so you'll need to take the stairs. Here's the key for the door. Unfortunately it's kind of heavy and has a tendency to swing shut on its own, so you may need to hold it open, and once it's closed it tends to stick..." *** By the end of the day my nipples hurt, so much had they been scraped during the day. Desperate to cool them off, I sat in my office with a dull cafeteria knife. I slipped it into the bra cups and gently placed the cool blade over my nipple... Ohhh, that felt good. After a few minutes, I took the knife out and dunked it into a glass of ice water to cool it off. Then I placed it into the other cup and soothed the other nipple. I closed my eyes and took a moment to relax. But why was I hard? All day long, my nipples tortured, tacks poking at my breasts -- and I had had a huge hard-on all the time. Why? I had never thought I was much of a masochist, but maybe? Or was it just that I was following the orders of my wife? Being submissive... "Paul?" Rachael walked into the office. "Ack!" I hurriedly removed the knife, which clattered to the floor and then pulled my shirt closed. "I'm sorry," I blurted out. "No, no..." Rachael said, soothingly. Rachael shut the door behind her and sat down in my guest chair. "Stand up and come here," she said. "I'm sorry... ?" "Stand up," she repeated, more slowly this time, "and come here." I did as instructed, still clutching my shirt closed. "Hands down by your sides." Hesitantly, I lowered my arms. I blushed beet red as the shirt gaped open, showing the bra underneath. "My goodness," Rachael said, "look at what we have here..." Rachael undid the remaining buttons on my dress shirt and opened it up to reveal the white satin bra underneath. Gently she pushed the shirt down my arms until it hung around my waist. "I never would have believed it," she mumbled. "What's that?" I asked, worried. "Your wife. She called and told me all about your punishment." I stepped back and covered my chest, "No!" Rachael smiled, "Yes, she did. And do I have this right? You disobeyed her and that's why you are being punished?" "Something like that..." I muttered. Rachael reached out and gently squeezed the bra cups, pressing the tacks into my breasts. "Does this hurt?" she asked. "Not really," I said, "just little points." "Fascinating," Rachael allowed my to pull my shirt back on and button it closed. "Well, I just came in to say that you did a good job today. I inspected the files in the basement and everything looks in order." "Thank you," I said, grateful for the praise. Rachael stood up, "Now, give me a hug?" she asked, wickedly. "Ummm..." Without waiting for my assent, Rachael pulled me into a big warm hug, pressing her body firmly against mine. "Unh," I grunted, in pain. "Thank you," Rachael said. "You are more special than I realized, Paul." "Uh.... Thanks." "Oh, and I'm afraid I have another closet for you to clean out tomorrow. So get here nice and early!" *** That evening I was allowed to take off the bra to sleep. Of course, this came after my time on the 'beck and call' pillow, and after my evening spanking, and after I made Janice come. But then, after all that, we both sat down on the bed and Janice unlocked the bra and removed it. "Poor sweetie," she murmured. Although the skin had not been broken, still my chest was covered with little red dots. Janice massaged my breasts and soon the dots faded. "Unh," I said, enjoying her attentions on my breasts and nipples. "What have we here?" Janice looked down at my penis. It had been hard all day long, even with the torturous bra, or perhaps because of it, and now it was actually leaking pre-cum, causing a wet mark on the front of my panties. With one hand still massaging a breast, Janice reached down and with a light grasping motion began to stroke my penis. "Oh... my gosh..." I moaned, beginning to tense up. A whole evening of stimulation and domination was beginning to overwhelm me. "See?" Janice said, talking into my ear and kissing my neck as she continued to stroke my breasts and penis, "I know what my girl wants. I know what she craves. I just want you to give in to me completely. Is that too much to ask?" "Unh!" I began to involuntarily pump my hips forward. "So close..." But just then, just when I was at the edge, Janice stopped. "Hey!" I cried out. "Tutt, tutt," she said, "What kind of encouragement would it be if I just let you come?" "But..." I reached down and started stroking my own cock. "No! None of that!" Janice quickly grasped my wrists and held them out from my body. "Please! I have to come!" I said, desperate. "Well, I guess I can't tie you up all night," she said. "Here, I tell you what we'll do." Janice pulled me up off the bed and then frog-marched me up to the wall. Once I was facing the wall, she pressed me face-forward into it. "There you go," Janice continued to hold me firmly by the wrists. "What?" "Go ahead, hump the wall if you have to come." "Are you kidding?" "Do you need to come or don't you? Should I get an ice pack? Should I tie you up all night?" "No no!" I was at my wits end. A days worth of torment had made my sexual ache nearly unbearable. I didn't think I could stand it another moment. Tentatively, I pushed my hips forward and rubbed against the wall. "That's my slutty bitch. Hump that wall. You know you need it." It was true, I did need it. I humped harder. The wall was hard and I rolled my hard cock over it. Janice shifted her grip so that she could hold both of my wrists together with one hand. With her free hand she grasped my hair and pressed my face into the wall. "That's it, bitch! Make love to the wall! Kiss the wall!" I did as instructed. I kissed the wall, I humped the wall, I mashed my penis against it. "Uhnnn!" I groaned. "Yeah!" Janice encouraged, pressing me harder. "Uhnnnn!" one more good thrust and I came, spasmodically jerking my hips back and forth, rolling my penis back and forth over the flat surface. Janice continued pressing me against the wall until I settled down, my cum and saliva smeared all over the wallboard. "And this will be your own special 'cum-spot' until you submit to my demands. Agreed?" "Agreed." "Good. Now come to bed! I'm so horny! I need to cum again!" Chapter 16: The Next Level Four more days is all it took. On Saturday evening I knelt before Janice in just my bra, panties, and dog collar and said the dreaded words. "I submit to your demands," I said. "Really?" Janice fairly squealed with delight. "You agree to submit to *all* of my demands?" "Yes," I hung my head, "just, please, don't ever make me wear this damn bra ever again." All that day, the bra was at its tightest setting. The points of the tacks dug cruelly into my breasts. Not enough to pierce the skin, but enough to be constantly painful. And of course it was Saturday, which meant doing laundry, dusting, vacuuming, washing toilets, scrubbing the bathroom, and ironing. Everything possible, which would cause the bra to shift back and forth over my tortured chest. "You are not in a position to make demands," Janice said. "You will wear the bra if I ever decide you need to." She held my head in her hands. "But if you really are a nice, obedient husband, I see no reason why we should ever have to resort to using it again." Janice turned me around, unlocked the bra, and removed it. She turned me around and pulled me into a wonderfully warm hug. "I'm so sorry I've been such a bitch," she whispered in my ear. "I don't know what's gotten into me." Her hands stroked up and down my body, one hand going into my panties and stroking my buns. "It's like I can't control myself, I just want to see you become more feminine. Can you forgive me?" "Of course," I said, my penis gradually becoming hard in my panties. "Good," she said. "Now let's get started!" *** Since it was Saturday night, there wasn't much we could do. But Janice did teach me how to shave my legs and underarms. It took a little time, but soon my legs and underarms were hair-free. "Well, not great," Janice said after I had stepped out of the shower and dried off. "But after a few days it should be perfect." "A few days?" "Right. I am expecting you to shave every morning during your shower, understand?" "I understand," I said. "Repeat after me, I, Paul Arthur Johnson, do solemnly swear to shave my legs and armpits, every day, for the rest of my life." "I, Paul Arthur Johnson do solemnly swear to shave my legs and armpits, every day, for the rest of my life." "Every day, for the rest of your life. Isn't that nice?" "I suppose." "Oh hush. I just know you'll come to love your new, silky smooth legs and sexy underarms." *** That evening I was spanked. Because I had refused her demands for the previous 7 days, I would be spanked for the next 14 days. After my spanking, as I stood in just panties and a bra, Janice pulled out a large cardboard box from her closet. "I bought this for you as a present for when you finally gave in." I placed the box on the bed and lifted the cover. At first, I couldn't even tell what it was -- there was so much fabric! As I lifted it out of the box, yards and yards of lace and nylon spilled out of the box and on to the floor. "Oh my goodness!" I gasped, amazed. Eventually I found the neckline and held it out for inspection. It was a gorgeous cream nylon and lace nightgown. There were two layers. The inner layer was satiny nylon and came up to just cover my chest, with long sleeves and a long skirt, which was enormously wide and flowing at the hem. The second layer was made up delicate lace and went as far up as my neck and chin, and then covered the entire gown all the way to the floor. I looked at Janice, amazed. "But Janice... I can't wear this! It's too... too beautiful!" "Tutt, tutt," she said, brushing away my concerns, "my girl has suffered a lot these last few days, and I want to treat you to something special. But I don't want to get it soiled, so let's put this on first, okay?" Janice held up a condom. "Oh... Okay," I agreed. Janice pulled my hard penis out from within the confining panties. "All set to go, aren't we?" she giggled, placing the condom over the head of my hard member and then rolling it down the shaft. After a couple of blindingly delicious strokes, Janice tucked me back into my panties, nice and safe. "Now, since this is something of a vintage gown, I think we need something special underneath as well," Janice pulled out a pair of cream-colored bloomers from the box. "Would this be okay?" "Yes!" I gasped, delighted. They were silky long-legged bloomers, with delicate ribbons and lace stitched into the hems. Janice held them out to me and I carefully stepped into them. My skin tingled as she slid them up my legs. Once in place, she tightened a ribbon around my waist and then around the hem of each leg, gathering the fabric snugly around my body. The ribbons were then tied off with a big floppy bows. The lace tickled my thighs. "Mmmmm," I sighed with pleasure as Janice stroked my penis through the two layers of silk and nylon. Then she pulled me into a warm hug and gave me a deep kiss on the lips. "Honey?" she asked, pulling apart slightly. "Yes?" I said, breathless and distracted as Janice began to gently tweak my nipples through my nylon bra. "I want to ask you a favor, well, actually multiple favors. Just for tonight. If you don't want to, it's okay. But if you do, it would be wonderful." "Sure!" I said, without thinking. I was feeling warm, loved, and incredibly turned on. "What would you like?" Janice returned to gently stroking my penis. "You said 'sure'. Do you really mean that? Do you trust me?" I hugged her and lightly kissed her on the neck. "Of course I trust you. What would you like me to do?" "Well, first..." Janice reached over and pulled out a medium-sized box from her nightstand, "I would like you to use these." Janice opened the box and revealed two silicon breast forms. She pulled one out and held it up to me. I guessed it would transform me to an ample C cup. "Oh, gosh," I mumbled. I ran my fingers over the breast form and the perky, hard-rubber nipple. Suddenly this was more than just dressing up in women's clothing. This was deeper than simple role playing. I was crossing yet another line. It was obvious where this would go. No longer was I merely a submissive male dressed up in women's clothing, answering to my wife's demands. Janice now wanted me to become a woman. From transvestite to transgender. But did I want that? I thought back to my original desires - just to wear panties and bras more often. And yes, to be married to someone who was more dominant and controlling about how I dressed up. But then, Janice wanted for me to have earrings, and now I was waxing my chest and shaving my legs, and soon I would get new hair, laser hair removal, and a tattoo... But through all that I was still male. Right? "A man with breasts?" I asked Janice, tremulously. "No," she purred, her eyes positively glowing with excitement. "A *woman* with breasts. My woman. My submissive girl. My wife." I hesitated, unsure, yet again, about where this was headed. "It's only for tonight," Janice said, "and besides, you promised!" I winced, thinking how my promises kept getting me into trouble. But then, they were only breast forms, right? Nothing permanent. "Okay," I said finally. "Yay!" Janice said, excited. Carefully hefting the breast form, she pulled my left bra cup away from my body and gently slipped it in. After doing the same with the right breast, she adjusted them. The straps tugged at my shoulders, supporting this new, unaccustomed weight for the first time. They felt cool to the touch, but quickly warmed to my body temperature. Janice stepped back and took a look at me. "Oh," she said simply. "Janice?" She was staring at my breasts. "Hello... Earth to Janice?" I waved my hand in front of her face. Janice snapped out of it. "I'm sorry! It's just..." she shook her head to clear her mind. Just then I noticed how strong was the smell of her sex. Janice must be intensely turned on, I realized. "Now for the main event," Janice gathered up the nightgown and held it open for me. I threaded my arms and head through the fabric cloud and stood still as Janice worked the bodice over my new lumps and pulled it down to the floor, straightening the skirts around my legs. "Oh my gosh," Janice said. "You look beautiful! Here, you have to come and see." Janice dragged me by the arm to the full-length mirror. I stood next to her, looking at my reflection in the mirror. She was right. From the neck down I looked amazing. Even my face, with the earrings and the longer hair (Janice had brushed it out a bit) didn't look too bad. I reached up and caressed my breasts, watching my reflection do the same. I realized that my breaths were coming out in short gasps. "Who's this incredibly sexy woman I see?" Janice hugged me from behind, reaching up to squeeze and fondle my breasts. "Oh..." she moaned, clearly as excited by my new figure and appearance as I was, if not more so. After a couple of minutes, Janice fetched the 'beck and call' pillow and placed it in front of me. "Kneel and place your arms behind your back," she said. I did as instructed. Janice fetched something from her nightstand. "This is just to keep your hands out of the way, Ok