Dont Be Afraid
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Don't Leave A Trace free porn video
Don't leave a trace
I was feeling great. My wife had been out all day shopping, giving me
plenty of time to dress and kick around the house. She knew I dressed,
but as long as she didn't see me she was happy to tolerate my little
"hobby." Now, I felt completely sated, plonked in front of the telly
with a cold beer in hand whilst Tina unpacked her bags upstairs.
"Simon, get up here," came a shrill voice from the stairwell.
Oh god, I thought, what's wrong now. Probably a spider in the bedroom
she needs me to get rid of. I managed to pull myself off the couch and
slowly ascend the stairs.
"Alright darling, I'm coming. What's the matter anyway?"
She was stood in the bedroom with a face on her that suggested she
hadn't found a spider but something that I was entirely to blame for.
A look like thunder. In one hand was her hairbrush, in the other a
clump of blonde hair. She had dark hair. My wig was blonde.
"What on earth is this?" she demanded.
"Ah," I started, "oops, sorry, darling, I meant to clear that off there
before you..."
She stopped me mid-sentence.
"You've been dressing again, haven't you." She didn't wait for a
reply; there was anger in her voice. "Look, I'm getting really hacked
off with finding little remnants of your girly times lying around our
bedroom. If it's not you leaving a lipstick out, it's hair on my
hairbrush. I'm really not happy with this."
"C'mon darling," I was trying to pacify her now, "it's only a little
bit of hair. Look, I'll clear it off now and I'll try not to do it
again."
I moved towards her to take the hair off and she hit me with the brush!
Now she was really pissed.
"I've had enough of this," she was really angry, "I can't take finding
little bits of girly you lying round anymore."
Oh god, I thought. I wasn't in a good position here. When she gets
angry, she can get a real rage on her, something you don't want to see.
"I'm really sorry, darling, let me make it up to you" I tried to say.
Oh dear, I was pressing all the wrong buttons.
"No, I'm not having it. You need to clear up after yourself. And
we've got friends round for dinner tonight too and the house is a mess.
I've been out all day and rather than you prepare for this evening,
you've pranced around and preened yourself." She shouted
This was not going well at all.
"Right, if you're going to play dress up, then I might as well get
something out of it too. Have you got a maid's dress?" she demanded.
Silly question, I don't know a tranny that hasn't!
"Well, yes, but..." I uttered.
"Right," she said, "you're going to play maid and clean up this house.
I know you keep your clothes in that wardrobe in the spare room. Go in
there and come back with your dress, your wig and your highest heels.
Quick!"
"Now come on sweetheart, why don't we just forget this and clean up the
house together," I said digging myself further into a big hole...
"DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!" she shouted, "you're gonna clean up this
house whether you like it or not and you're gonna do it dressed as a
maid. And if I hear one word of complaint from you, then I'll have to
think about who I might tell about your dressing up games."
I didn't want to risk that. I'm not sure if she was calling my bluff
or not, but she was pretty damn angry. I wasn't really in the mood to
dress, I'd been doing it all day but she seemed so angry. I thought
I'd better play along and get this out of the way. I walked out, went
into my wardrobe, got what she asked and returned to the bedroom.
"Right. Take your clothes off," she demanded.
I quickly stripped. Funny, she'd seen me naked thousands of times but
this time, I felt particularly vulnerable.
"Good to see your legs are already shaved," she smiled for the first
time this afternoon, "that'll save me a job." She reached over to her
underwear drawer and got out a black corset with a lace trim. I'd seen
her in it a couple of times, she'd bought it when they were fashionable
but hadn't really got much use out of it. I'd never worn it.
"Put your arms in the air." I did as she said and deftly she wrapped
the corset around me from the back, coming round the front to fasten
the metal fastenings together. The strings hung loose and brushed my
thighs. She then went round the back and pulled the corset up tight,
giving me a waist. God it hurt, after all she's a little smaller than
me, but I'm sure she was enjoying this. She was smiling.
"Wow, what a nice girly figure you have now," she purred. I couldn't
say anything; I wasn't even quite sure why I was letting her do this to
me. "Right, sit on the edge of the bed."
I sat down. Again, she reached into her drawers and pulled out a pair
of black knickers. They were the sort she would wear when feeling a
little fat - control knickers I think you call them. She threw them at
me. And gave me a look to say that I'd better put them on. I didn't
hang around.
After a bit of rummaging, she produced a pair of fishnet hold-ups from
the drawer and again threw them at me.
"Darling, can't we just..." I tried to say.
"Shut up. Put on the stockings and do as you're told," she snapped.
The message was clear.
She picked up the shoes I'd brought in and examined them. Black 4 inch
stiletto heel with a strap around the ankle.
"Good choice," she said, as she put them on my feet and strapped me in.
I must have looked a sight to her now. Sat on our bed, wearing heels,
fishnets and a corset. I felt sheepish; her look was a devious half
smile.
"This is coming together nicely," she sneered. "Right. Get up and go
and sit by the dresser."
I levelled myself from the bed, which wasn't easy in these heels and
hobbled over to the dresser.
"Hmmm, we'll have to get a bit of walking practise in, won't we
darling" she said sarcastically. I don't think she expected a reply.
She pulled up another chair and grabbed my face by the chin, examining
me. After a few "hmms," she opened her make-up drawer and started
getting out all sorts of bottles and jars.
"I bet you're loving this," she said.
"Well, actually, I'm a bit worried about time," I said, "I don't think
we've got that long 'til the guests come."
"Ah, don't you worry your pretty little head about that. It won't take
me long to fix up your make-up, then you can set about tidying the
house."
She started with a foundation, all over my face. I didn't have a clue
what she was doing; she'd turned me away from the mirror. She
pencilled over my eyebrows then applied an eye shadow and eye pencil.
I kept still whilst she applied mascara and sat there patiently when
leaned back to examine her handy work.
"Not bad, not bad" she muttered to herself before flourishing a blusher
brush and colouring in my cheeks. Next, a lip pencil was used to
outline my lips, finally applying a generous coat of bright red
lipstick.
"Hang on a minute, not quite done" she said, as she then got out a lip-
gloss and generously applied that too.
Next thing, she'd got hold of my wig and had placed it on my head. She
reached for a hairbrush and began styling it.
"Quite a pretty girl, aren't we. Now, we need some earrings to finish
you off. Where are those clip-ons of mine...."? She found them on her
dresser and clipped them to my ears.
"Voila," she said proudly, "you make a good woman, Simon. Hang on,
no, I can't call you that now you're this pretty. How about Suzie?
Yes, that's a good name for a maid. Suzie it is."
"C'mon darling," I said, "this is all going a bit far. A joke's a
joke, OK? Can't we just say you've had your little laugh and I can
take this lot off again?"
"No way, Jose. If you wanna play dress up while I'm out, you can do it
whilst I'm here and I'll get a clean house into the bargain too. Now
stand up and stop whining."
I stood up. There was no way she was going to give in any of this; I
knew I had to see it through.
"Right," she said triumphantly, "let's have a look at this maid's dress
of yours." She held it up.
It wasn't your usual mail order French maid's outfit that falls apart
the first time you wear it. I'd searched high and low on the Internet
for something special and found it at The Travel trunk Company, a web
site specialising in maid's outfits for domestic helps. It was a black
above the knee dress, with a round white colour and a zip all the way
up the back. The short sleeves were capped with white trim. I'd
brought with it a white apron with a frilled edge and a cap.
"Lovely," she said sarcastically. "Right, step into this." She held
out the dress. I looked her in the eyes and could tell she wasn't
joking. I hesitated. Stepping into the dress and letting her zip it
all the way up the back would be like accepting a position as her maid,
surrendering to her. The corset, the make-up, the wig, I could deal
with that. But stepping into a maid's dress, that felt like I was no
longer a man. She sensed this too. She gritted her teeth.
"Get over here now and step into this dress. I WILL NOT ASK AGAIN."
I moved towards her and stepped into the dress. I put my arms into the
sleeves and pulled the dress up. Tina moved behind me and slowly
zipped up the dress, all the way to my neck. As she did it, my head
bowed as my spirit broke.
She picked up the apron from the bed and tied it tightly around my
waist. Well, the corset had given me a waist higher than my own so she
tied it around there.
Then she affixed the cap to my head. She moved round to the front,
about 6 feet away.
"OK, look at me, Suzie."
I couldn't. I felt so subservient, like she'd really got one over me.
Here I was, in my own bedroom with my wife, dressed from head to toe as
a maid.
"I'm not going to ask you twice. Will you look at me, Suzie."
I slowly raised my head to look her in the eye. Suddenly there was a
flash, followed by another in quick succession. I hadn't noticed that
whilst I was preoccupied in my dress, she'd got a camera out of her bag
and taken a couple of snaps.
"What..." I started.
"Just in case," she said, "just in case you decide not to play ball.
Let's call it a little bit of insurance, huh? If you don't do what I
say, then there's no telling where these photos might end up! Have a
look at yourself, anyway."
I turned to face the mirror. She'd got me. Dressed as her maid,
rechristened Suzie and blackmailed too. I looked damn good, she'd done
a great job on the make-up and the heels made my legs look like they'd
go on forever.
But God knows what the future held.
"Right, now, there's some jobs for you to do. I want this bedroom
tidy, then I want you to go downstairs and lay the table for dinner.
Do you understand?" she demanded.
"Yes," I replied.
"Yes, what?" she quizzed.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I mean, darling," she said in her superior voice, "that when you are
Suzie and you are dressed as my maid, then you will call me Mistress.
Do you understand?"
Did I have any choice?
"Yes, Mistress."
"Good, now get to work," she said urgently.
I tidied the bedroom and headed downstairs. Not easy in these heels.
Organising the table wasn't so difficult, just lots of walking around
setting the places, getting the cutlery right. I was in a world of my
own, quite enjoying myself really. I hadn't seen Tina for about half
an hour.
Tina then came downstairs. I moved to the doorway of the dining room,
and could see her stood on the stairs. She looked stunning, in a long
red dress with a slit up to her waist. Perfect make-up, absolutely
beautiful. I was transfixed.
"Ding dong"
The doorbell broke my reverence. Shit, I thought. Where I was stood,
the door was 6 feet to my right hand side. Luckily no-one could see
through it.
I stared at my wife. She stared at me.
"Well?" she said. "Aren't you going to answer it, Suzie?"
To be continued if you want me to....
Avriella
- 07.08.2021
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