My Wife's Fantasy free porn video

My Wife's Fantasy This story was inspired by a letter to an "Agony Aunt" that I read in a newspaper the other day. How did I get into this mess? It had all started innocently enough. My wife and I were laying in bed the other morning gently making love, as we do most mornings; it is a much better way to wake up than the traditional cup of tea! Anyway, before I go any further I ought to introduce myself. My name is Peter; I am 28 years old and have been married to my adorable wife Sally for 6 years. (I'm too much of a gentleman - or at least was! - to reveal my wife's age!!!) Sally and I met at University and became an "item" from our first term. We decided to wait until we had graduated and found jobs before getting married and were fortunate in finding openings fairly soon after we left university. Sally joined a prestigious law firm in a junior administrative capacity and over the years had risen through the ranks so that today she is PA to one of the senior partners. She loves her work and the only fly in the ointment is that her boss is a bit of a control freak and doesn't let Sally use her own initiative very much. She finds this more than a bit frustrating but the pay is good and she doesn't want to move to a different law firm. I got a job as a technical trouble-shooter with an international engineering company and quickly gained a reputation as someone who could go into a troublesome area; identify the problems; and take control in resolving things. In my line of work the ability to achieve quick results is directly linked to company income as downtime on costly plant can be extremely expensive. In my own way I guess I developed into a bit of a control freak as well so that Sally found the two men in her life were both taking all the important decisions and leaving her to sort out the minor odds and ends they inevitably left in their wake. What I hadn't realised was just how much this was getting her down. Enough history; back to this particular morning. As I say, I had woken before Sally and, as was my custom, started to gently stroke her body to bring her into wakefulness. With a groan she rolled over and kissed me. I slid on top of her and started to nibble her breasts. Things were proceeding pretty much as usual when, for some reason I cannot fathom, I asked the fateful question. "Darling, if you could do anything you like, what would be your sexual fantasy?" "She looked into my eyes with a strange quizzical gaze. "Do you really want to know?" she asked. "Yes I do" I replied, expecting her to come up with some romantic role-play idea. "Well" she said "what I would really enjoy is for me to be the one in charge and to dominate you for a change." I had not been expecting this and visions of Sally dressed in leather and PVC wielding a whip flashed before my eyes. Now, unlike some men, for me this was NOT a turn-on. On the contrary, I felt my erection collapsing at the very thought of someone else - even my beloved Sally - having control over me. As I rolled away from her I could sense her hurt and saw tears starting to run down her face. "Sorry love, not my scene" I mumbled and climbed out of bed. I washed, dressed and went downstairs on my own. I could hear Sally quietly sobbing in our bedroom but was too affronted to go and comfort her. She will get over it; I thought and went off to work. When I returned home that evening Sally was very quiet; she did not embrace me as I came in and hardly said a word over supper. The evening passed in a stony silence and when we went up to bed we each carefully lay down on our own side and made sure we did not touch. Sally was up before me the next day and, again, hardly spoke to me. I could see she had been crying but was determined not to give in to her silly whim. I was the man in the house; decision taking was both my right and my skill; Sally's role was to be the submissive wife and support me. No-one was going to take control of my life! Things continued in this vein for the next few days and I began to have a few qualms about the way I was treating Sally. In spite of her silly fantasy I did love her and there was now a real risk that we might start to drift apart. Somewhat belatedly I started to give the matter some serious thought. Did Sally have any right in her claim that I was dominating her? Well I didn't think I was domineering, but I had to admit that I did see the decision taking process in our lives as my province. I decided when and where we would go on holiday; how we would redecorate the house; etc. Trying to be honest with myself, I had to acknowledge that my control also extended to when, and in what manner, we would make love. Sally definitely had a point! Eventually I came to a decision. Although it would be at some personal cost to my male ego, I would tell Sally that I was willing to let her indulge her fantasy for a few days and give her the responsibility for the decision taking process in our domestic life. Accordingly, that evening, I took home a large bunch of flowers and a rather good bottle of champagne. I took Sally in my arms and said I was sorry for having caused her so much distress the past week. "I have decided to let you make some of the decisions as to how we live for the next few days" I said, "and if that extends to the bedroom, that's fine as well". Sally smiled sadly, "there you go" she said "even now you are taking the decision to let me take decisions! If we are going to do this, you are REALLY going to have to relinquish power to me and agree to do exactly what I tell you." Well that was going a bit far but I didn't want to lose Sally, so I somewhat nervously agreed. "This could be a make or break time for us" said Sally "so we both need to be absolutely clear as to what we are agreeing to. We will both sleep on it and, if you are still of the same mind in the morning, I will draw up an agreement setting out the terms of our experiment. Now, we will go to bed and you will sleep in the spare room. We both need time to reflect without any distraction." Already Sally's tone of voice had changed. She was suddenly much more authoritative and I noticed she was issuing instructions to me, rather than seeking my opinion. We went upstairs and I retired to the spare room, where I spent a restless night trying to work out whether I could accept being told what to do rather than deciding for myself. The next morning I got up having decided that, for the sake of our marriage, I was willing to be subordinate to Sally for the next few days. I dressed and went downstairs. Sally was already up and was seated at the breakfast table with a typewritten sheet of paper in front of her. "If you still willing to go ahead with my fantasy I have drawn up some terms with which I will require you to sign" she said. I confirmed I was still of the same mind, so she passed the sheet of paper to me. These were her terms: 1. For a period of one month I, Peter, agree to obey my wife, Sally, in all things. 2. I promise not to interfere with her decision taking and never offer advice unless it is sought. 3. Where Sally does offer me delegated decision taking in respect of minor tasks, I will give her desires and preferences priority over my own. 4. However strange and demeaning I may think her treatment of me to be, I promise to carry out all her wishes to the very best of my ability without complaint or sulkiness. 5. At the end of the one month term, if the terms of this agreement have been met in full, Sally undertakes to fulfil one of Peter's fantasies for a similar period. Well this was a pretty specific document! Would I be able to hold to these terms for a whole month? Sally suggested I take her document with me to work and reflect, during the day, on what my agreement would entail. If I was still willing to accept her terms, I was to give her the signed document immediately on my return home that evening. As you can imagine I thought long and hard all day - (not much work got done!) This would be a very big step. If I signed the document I knew my sense of honour and pride would mean that I would do everything in my power to live up to my commitment. All sorts of wild and bizarre images flashed through my mind as I speculated on some of the things Sally might ask me to do. In the end I signed; I was now committed a month of subservience to my wife. Sally was waiting in for me in the lounge when I got home. I silently passed her the signed document. She smiled; "I'm glad you came to this decision" she said "because I had decided that if you refused me, I would move out and consider whether we had a future together. Now I don't have to; I can see you love me enough to agree with my wishes. I trust that at the end of this month we will have both redefined our respective roles in our marriage" "In token of your acceptance of our new roles, I now expect you to prepare dinner for me. As this is your first day, I have selected a recipe and put out the ingredients in the kitchen. However, for the next month, menu planning, shopping and cooking will be your responsibility, along with cleaning the house and doing the laundry. For too many years I have had to do this as well as hold down a full-time job; now you can see what multitasking means for a change. I want you to be aware at all times of your new subservient role, and so have decided you will wear a uniform when working in the house. I have laid your initial uniform out on your bed in the spare room. You will sleep there from now on, unless I decide I want you to sleep with me. Now go and get changed; and then I would like you serve me a really cold gin and tonic." I meekly bowed my head and left the room. Here we go, I thought, what will the next month hold? I went upstairs to my new room. I saw that my toiletries had been moved from the bathroom I had shared with Sally into the guest room en-suite. I was a bit surprised to see that Sally had also laid out some of her make-up lotions and potions but assumed that these may have been left in the bathroom previously. I stripped off and took a shower. I then crossed to the bed to see what my new "uniform" comprised of. It was certainly different from the clothes I normally wore! The first garment was a long, sleeveless singlet. It was made of an elasticised material and, once I had wriggled into it, I found it not only eliminated my slight beer belly but also pulled the pectoral muscles towards the centre of my chest, giving the weird impression of a slight cleavage. Next was a pair of short-type underpants; also elasticised, they crushed my private parts cruelly until I found a way of pushing my balls back into my groin and pulling my penis tight between my legs. The shorts were also tight around the bum, with some sort of reinforcing moulding and shaping my buttocks. These two garments alone were sufficient to ensure that I would never forget I was wearing a special uniform. I turned to the shirt, or should I say blouse! It was clearly a female garment from the arrangement of the buttons. It was cream coloured nylon; with a ruffle edged v-neck and slightly billowed sleeves that came to a deep tight cuff at the wrist. With some trepidation I put it on and, with some difficulty, managed to do up the buttons down the front and on the cuffs. Next were the socks - or rather white, nylon knee-highs. By now this did not come as any great surprise! I was relieved to see that Sally had put out trousers for me. However, they were a pale lilac colour and zipped at the side rather than at the front - where they were so tightly cut that I was grateful I had already resolved the placing of my wedding tackle! A tight fitting matching lilac waistcoat went over the blouse and a pair of black ballet-flats completed the ensemble. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I realised just how much care Sally had taken in ensuring that I would always be aware of my new subservient role. My uniform was clearly effeminate but, in an odd way, I looked good in it. The tight undergarments had pulled in my flab and I looked toned and really quite smart. I took once last look at myself before hurrying down stairs to prepare Sally her drink. As requested - (instructed?!!) - I mixed a very cold, strong gin and tonic for Sally, adding a slice of lime rather than the more conventional lemon as I knew this to be her preference. I put the glass on a small tray and took it to Sally in our lounge. She was sitting with her feet up reading the paper. "Do you know, I can't remember when I last had time to properly read the paper" she said, "I am really going to enjoy this next month." I offered her the drink with my head slightly bowed. "Thank you dear; you are learning fast." She sipped her drink. "Delicious! Now you can go to the kitchen and prepare us our dinner. As it is your first day I have put out the ingredients for a mushroom omelette and salad, but from now on it will be your responsibility to sort out menus and shop for food, as well, of course, for all the cooking." "Incidentally, you look great. Your uniform suits you better than I could have hoped. You had better research some slimming meals as I want you to loss all that flab you have put on over the last few years. By the end of our experiment I fully intend you to be back at the weight you were on our wedding day." I wasn't too upset by the prospect of an enforced diet. I knew I had allowed myself to put on weight gradually over the last few years but had lacked the determination to stick to a diet myself. If Sally was now going to force me to diet; that was OK by me. (Anyway considering what else she might be planning for the next month, a diet was positively straightforward!). Sally continued; "as you have probably gathered I intend to keep you in an effeminate state for the duration of our experiment. I haven't yet decided just how far I am going to take it, but I want you to experience the sort of suppression that we women have to put up with all the time. However, don't worry. I don't intend to make you my slave, I just want you to realise how much you have dominated and repressed me over the last 12 years. You can wear your normal clothes to work but, as soon as you get home, you will change into this uniform, or whatever other outfit I decide you should wear." It was a relief to learn that, hopefully, I wouldn't be subjected to any extreme physical domination - the thought of being bound and beaten by Sally, in role as a dominatrix, was not any sort of turn-on for me. However, I was still worried about how far she would push my enforced feminisation. It would be too humiliating if our friends and neighbours were to find out. Anyway, it was time for me to prepare supper and I duly walked to the kitchen, leaving Sally to her paper and G&T. True to her word I found the ingredients for an omelette and salad on the work-surface and had no real trouble putting a meal together. I laid the table with a clean white cloth and set out the cutlery and glasses. I opened a bottle of chilled white wine and, when everything was ready, returned to the lounge. "Dinner is served" I announced and proceeded to serve Sally and pour her wine before serving myself and sitting down. The act of sitting down was, in itself, an interesting experience; these trousers were tight! Fortunately there was a bit of give in the material and I avoid any serious discomfort in the crutch area! Supper was a very pleasant affair. For the first time in ages we had a proper conversation - normally I would have monopolised and determined what we talked about, whilst Sally listened. Now I had to remain quiet until she brought me into the conversation. As a consequence I started to hear more about her life at work and to learn of the frustrations she was experiencing with a boss who always knew best and was never willing to seek, or hear, anyone else's contributions. "I know that if only he would listen to me, I could make the way we work so much more effective" she said "but it is no good; he is as big a chauvinist as you!" I was a bit shocked. I had been nodding and agreeing with Sally as she described her bigoted boss; surely I wasn't as bad as that! Maybe I did have something to learn from our experiment. After supper, I washed up and brought Sally a cup of coffee. We sat and chatted until bedtime. Sally explained that for the next month I was to sleep in the spare bedroom. If she felt romantic and wanted sex, she would initiate proceedings and then I, might, be allowed to sleep with her. Otherwise, by sleeping on my own, I wouldn't disturb her when I got up to make breakfast. When we finally went up to bed, Sally handed me one of her dresses. "I intend to wear this in the morning" she said "it needs pressing, so make sure you have it ready for me after breakfast. Goodnight." She went into our bedroom and closed the door. I turned and entered the guest bedroom. Lying on the bed was a full-length, nylon nightdress, with matching panties. It was a simple nightdress, sleeveless and undecorated. However, the message was clear; here was the next step in my feminisation. I undressed, with a fair amount of wriggling and squeezing to get my uniform and constricting undergarments off, showered, and cleaned my teeth. My eye was taken by the lotions and cosmetics lying on the shelf. Maybe these weren't Sally's; maybe they were for me! I gulped but, to my surprise, found I was intrigued, and a bit turned on, by the prospect of being forced to wear make-up. Maybe this month might not be as dreadful as I had initially thought! I pulled the panties up my legs - the nylon material felt really silky, and I started to experience an erection. This was totally unanticipated and I returned to the bathroom to splash cold water over myself! Once I had calmed down, I slipped the nightdress over my head and climbed into bed. As I drifted off to sleep, I reflected on how my life had changed in a few short hours. What did the rest of the month hold in store for me?! I had taken the precaution of setting my phone for an early alarm call, so was jerked into wakefulness at an unusually early hour. Normally it was Sally who woke first and prepared breakfast whilst I showered and shaved. Now it was my turn. I dragged myself out of bed; pulled off my night clothes and jumped into the shower. I shaved, cleaned my teeth, and returned to the bedroom. What would Sally expect me to wear? It was a workday, so, eventually, I would be allowed to put on a shirt and tie. However, in the spirit of our agreement, I suspected Sally would expect me to be wearing something more subservient when I served her breakfast. I then noticed a silky robe hanging on the back of the door. It matched the nightdress I had been wearing, so I quickly slipped back into the nightdress and panties; donned the robe and slipped my feet into a pair of slippers I found by the side of the bed. The slippers had a little heel but I managed to navigate the stairs without too much difficulty. Putting the kettle on, I prepared a tray of fruit and cereal - which was what Sally preferred for breakfast; I, of course, expected her to prepare me a full fry-up. Well, I wouldn't be enjoying one of those for a while! I made a jug of coffee and, whilst it was standing, got out the ironing board and iron and pressed her dress. This proved to be more straightforward than I had anticipated. Draping the dress over my arm, I carried Sally's tray up to her bedroom. I knocked and waited for her to tell me I could enter. She greeted me with a warm smile. "Well done dear" she said. "I did wonder if I might have a problem with you this morning! I am delighted you decided to wear the gown and robe to demonstrate your willingness to demonstrate your subservience to me. Now you may go and get ready for work whilst I enjoy this excellent breakfast....but before you go, just run my bath for me would you." I did so and hurried back to the spare room with the clothes I would need for work. Ironing and preparing breakfast had taken longer than I had anticipated, so I only had time to grab a quick cup of coffee and an apple before leaving for the office. As I was leaving Sally came to the top of the stairs. "Now remember; I expect you to change into your uniform the minute you get home from work" she said. "Also, I have decided that, after this week, I want you at home for the rest of the month. So book three weeks leave, starting this weekend. I will do the same and I will think up some interesting ways to ensure that, over the next three weeks, you really learn what it is like to be at someone else's beck and call." What could she have in mind, I wondered? Still, I had entered into our agreement of my own free will and fully intended to stick by the terms I had signed. Whatever Sally came up with, I would endure! To say that my boss was unimpressed at my short-notice request for three weeks leave would be an understatement. However, he, eventually, had to acknowledge that I did have a lot of leave owing and that, with a bit of work on my part this coming week, my current projects were all at a stage where bits and pieces of tidying up could be handled by my assistant. So my week suddenly became incredibly busy. Not only was I working my socks off in the office but I also had to cope with running the house. Sally stuck by her decision that I was now responsible for all household chores and was unmoved by my plea that I was extra busy in the office to ensure I could comply with her instruction to take the next three weeks as leave. "It is about time you learned why we women have a reputation for multitasking" she said. "You expected me to do this all the time when it suited you, so now it is your turn." Somehow or other I got through the week. I managed to produce acceptable meals for Sally in the evenings; made sure our laundry was up to date and that she always had a neatly pressed outfit to wear to work. I learned many things; not least just how careful one has to be when washing a lady's delicate lingerie - and some of these intimate garments were now mine!! What with the heavy office workload; early mornings preparing breakfast and setting out Sally's clothes; and late evenings clearing up the kitchen and doing the laundry, I crawled into bed each night totally exhausted and slept like a log. In the event, by putting in all the hard work up-front, I did rather better than I had anticipated and, by Friday lunchtime, I had got my office work up to date ready for my leave and told my assistant that I would be going home early, as I had a few things to do in preparation for our holiday. I had decided to give Sally a special treat. Accordingly I visited a very superior delicatessen on my way home and purchased a number of Sally's all-time favourite dishes. These, together with a couple of first-class bottles of wine and beautiful bowl of orchids, meant that I staggered home with my arms full. I quickly changed into my lilac trouser-suit uniform set about preparing the house for her return. I laid the dining-room table with our best china and crystal; put the white wine to chill in the fridge and opened the red to let it breath. The orchids made a magnificent centre-piece for the table. I adjusted the lounge lighting to a romantically low level in the lounge and set out the makings for a pre-dinner cocktail of Sally's favourite - a Bellini. I was listening for the sound of Sally's key in the lock, so as she came in I was standing there with her drink in my hand. I had found a small lace apron in one of the kitchen cupboards and had added this to my ensemble. Sally's face lit up. "Thank you my dear" she exclaimed. "I know this is hard for you, but you are really trying to live up to the spirit of our agreement and I admire you immensely for that." I ushered her into the lounge and handed her her drink. "You will have to excuse me" I said, "dinner is nearly ready and I don't want it to spoil." Our meal was a great success. Sally praised me for my choice of dishes and wine and said that she adored the orchids I had bought her. We laughed and chatted about the week's work and I speculated as to what she might have planned for our next three weeks holiday. Sally refused to be drawn. "You have given me a lovely treat tonight" she said "and I have something exciting planned for you tomorrow. However, you are just going to have to wait to see what it is!" After dinner we retired to the lounge for a coffee and brandy and when Sally started to yawn I suggested she go up to bed whilst I finished off the dishes. "Leave them to the morning" she reposted "I can think of a much more enjoyable way to end the evening!" We went upstairs and she led me into her bedroom. We kissed hungrily and started to pull off each other's clothes. "Remember I am in charge" Sally admonished "I will take the initiative and lead our love making". I wish I could say I "lay back and thought of England", but Sally was much too inventive for that. She assumed the upper position and gently told me what she wanted me to do. It was the best love-making we had enjoyed for a long time and we both experienced massive orgasms! The next morning we awoke snuggled in each other's arms. I kissed Sally and reluctantly pulled away from her. "I have to clear up and prepare breakfast" I said. "I know you do" she replied "and I want you washed and dressed in the outfit I will lay out for you by 9 am. You have an appointment booked for 0930. What sort of appointment I wondered, but, having learned that in my current, subservient role that I had no right to press Sally for information, I slipped into my robe and slippers and went downstairs. After breakfast I had my shower. Sally told me to take particular care to have a close shave and wash my hair. When I came back to the bedroom, Sally was waiting with a pile of clothes. "Put these on" she said, handing me a pair of ivory coloured panties. I quickly put them on, tucking myself back as I had learned to do during the previous week. Next was a matching, lace-trimmed, silk chemise. (This was getting a bit serious. I knew Sally wanted me to look effeminate so as to be reminded at all times that she was now in charge, but there were not just effeminate garments; they shouted "female"!) Sally now handed me a pair of tan pantyhose and instructed me on how to put them on without laddering them. A pink, short-sleeved blouse and tight-fitting, black trousers with a rear zipper were next, followed by a pale green cardigan. A pair of black flats was slipped onto my feet. Sally let me look in the mirror. Looking back at me was a strangely androgynous figure. I didn't look like a woman, but I wasn't fully male either. It felt very strange. Sally handed me a black purse. "You will need this as you no longer have any pockets into which to stuff your money, keys and things" she said. "Now we have to be off for your appointment". Although I was embarrassed to be wearing so obviously feminine an outfit, I found the clothes oddly comfortable. We left the house and I got into the passenger seat of our car - Sally was driving, of course; although previously it would never have occurred to me to give her the car keys when we went out together. I settled back into my seat. Where could we be going and what new challenge was I about to face?!!! As we drove Sally explained we were going to a town about 20 miles away from where we live. "Whilst you have agreed to do everything I require of you without question, and that, therefore, I do not need to tell you what is going happen in advance" she said, "I think, on this occasion, it would be helpful if I explained how I have arranged for us to spend the next few days and what we are going to do today. As I have already explained, when I told you that my fantasy was to be the dominant one in our relationship, that wasn't with any intention to hurt or humiliate you, but rather to allow you to see how we women are put down by chauvinist men like you. And it isn't only women you walk all over either; anyone who doesn't fit your view of masculinity is either ignored or made to feel inferior. That was why I insist that you wear your effeminate uniform all the time at home. It is to ensure that you realise you are now an "outsider" yourself and would not be accepted into your male "club" if you were seen by your friends and colleagues. I have to say I have been pleased and impressed by how well you have accepted your new subservient role. You are already behaving in a more considerate and thoughtful way after just one week. I have therefore decided to step things up a notch and to set you a more challenging task." This sounded ominous! I was pleased Sally recognised that I really was trying to live up to the terms of our agreement, but "up a notch" and "more challenging task", what would this entail? Already here I was sitting in our car being driven to a nearby town, totally dressed in women's clothing. How much more embarrassing could Sally make it for me? "I want you to experience fully life as one of those you would previously have looked down on" Sally continued. "I have booked us into a hotel in Manchester for a week and we travel tomorrow. Manchester is well known for its gay scene and as a place where transvestites congregate. For the next week you are going to live 24/7 in women's clothing and I am going to ensure that you experience, in full, the delights and opportunities Manchester has to offer." I was shocked but, to my surprise, excited by what Sally was telling me. Cross-dressing was something I would never have contemplated before, but as Sally was clearly determined I should experience life from a totally different perspective, I couldn't think of anything more unlike my usual mode of existence. "Today we are going to a beauty salon I have discovered that specialises in male to female transformations. I want this coming week to be fun for us both as well as a learning experience for you and, to that end, I intend for you to be as convincing a transvestite as possible. So you will have a complete make-over and then we will go shopping for your new wardrobe." I now understood why I was wearing the female outfit Sally had selected for me! It did not take long to drive to the salon and I soon found myself being ushered into a pretty, brightly lit room to be greeted by a middle-aged lady who introduced herself as Karen. "Welcome" she said, greeting me with a warm smile, "you must be Patricia." I looked puzzled and turned to Sally. "Well you can't go on being called "Peter" once you have been transformed" she explained "I have decided that "Patricia" will be your new femme name." I realised I rather like my new name. "Patricia" had an elegant ring to it and, if shortened, "Pat" and "Tricia" were also prettily feminine. Karen explained that my transformation would take all morning, so Sally announced that she would go into town to research some clothing shops for us to visit later and would return for me at lunchtime. When Sally had gone, Karen handed me a plain, white cotton robe and a packet of paper panties and showed me to a cubicle where I could change. As I return to the main salon Karen explained that her first task would be to get rid of all my unsightly, masculine body hair. "I am going to give you a full body waxing" she announced. "You will find it painful, but a girl has to suffer for her beauty!" I wasn't too sure about that but, as I had no choice; I took of my robe and lay face down on a couch. Karen started to spread warm wax over the back of one of my legs. I felt her pressing something into the wax and then shrieked out in pain as, without warning, she ripped away a large area of hair. "Don't be such a wimp" Karen snapped "women have their legs waxed all the time and don't make half the fuss you are." I bit my lip and endured the next half-hour or so of torture as Karen progressively denuded my body of hair. No part of my anatomy was spared; even the hair on my scrotum and buttocks was cleared away! By now the paper panties had long been discarded and I was lying stark naked on Karen's couch. Oddly I wasn't embarrassed to be seen like this by a woman who, until a little while ago, I had never previously met. There was something about the sanctuary of a beauty salon that made such intimacies seem perfectly natural. Having removed all my body hair, Karen massaged me all over with a floral scented lotion. "This will mot only moisturise your skin" she explained "but it contains a mild anaesthetic which will help reduce your discomfort. I know I was a bit harsh with you earlier; let me tell you that you have endured a body waxing much more stoically that many of my clientele!" Such a simple achievement, but I was pleased I had behaved well. Next Karen set about my pubic hair with a pair of scissors and a razor - the use of the later cause me some trepidation! - but all proceeded safely and soon my penis was framed by a neatly trimmed triangle of hair, much more to the feminine pattern. Karen asked me to put on my panties and robe and sat me in a comfortable, adjustable chair whilst she proceeded to give me the closest shave I have ever had. When satisfied she had removed all trace of facial hair, Karen spread a thick paste all over my face. She adjusted the chair so that I was laid back. She put pads over my eyes and told me to relax. "This paste will soften your skin" she told me "but it also contains a growth inhibitor, so you should not need to shave again for at least ten days. This will take a little time to work, so lay back and relax whilst I give you a manicure and pedicure." I lay there listening to dreamy music Karen had switched on and drifted off in a bit of a trance whilst I felt her working on my hands and feet. I was roused back into wakefulness; "come on sleepyhead" Karen laughed "time for your next treatment." She carefully cleaned the paste of my face; my skin felt wonderful, so clean and fresh. I looked down at my hands and feet. My toenails were varnished a deep burgundy colour whist my fingers now sported bright pink nails! Karen had obviously added some form of extension as my fingernails were considerably longer than before. Raising the chair into an upright position, Karen next set about making up my face. She applied a foundation using a small, damp sponge. When satisfied she had prepared a suitable base, she set the foundation with powder and started on my eyes. I was sitting facing a mirror so I could see what she was doing. First she applied shades of brown eye-shadow to my lids, using white to highlight the area immediately under my brow. "A bit more pain," she announced before plucking my brows into a cleaner, more feminine arch. She did not remove a great number of hairs, but the effect on my appearance was dramatic. At a stroke my eyes appeared larger and more open. Eye-liner and mascara were applied next and then Karen carefully affixed a pair of curling, false eyelashes. Blusher was used to emphasise my cheekbones and, finally, Karen carefully outlined my lips with a wax pencil. She drew a line slightly outside my natural lip line so as to give me a more feminine shaped mouth. She used a brush to colour them a rich pink and then applied a sealant to stop the lipstick smudging. My face was transformed. Even with my short, mannish hair, I was looking at a pretty woman in the mirror. I could not believe what a difference Karen had achieved with her make-up kit. "One last thing" Karen said "and then we can start getting you dressed." She took an eyebrow pencil out of her make-up bag and made a small mark on each of my earlobes. Standing back, she carefully checked that the two marks were in-line. I knew what was coming; pierced ears! This was a bit more permanent than a made-up face and hairless body, both of which were reversible...but pierced ears; how would I explain that at work? I briefly consider telling Karen to stop but I had given Sally my word to accept all her decisions for one month and this was clearly part of her plan. Anyway I was curious to see what I would look like with long, dangly earrings. So I kept quiet and bit my lip as I experienced a sharp pain in first one, and then the other, of my ears. "There, that is the first phase complete" said Karen. "Take a look in the mirror and tell me what you think. I eagerly examined my ears. Two little gold studs now adorned my ear-lobes. Karen explained that I would need to wear the studs for a few days, until the holes had healed and that I shouldn't try wearing any other earrings until the healing was completed. I would also need to wash the wounds with alcohol every day and rotate the studs to keep the holes open. "It's now time to start getting you dressed" Karen announced; "come over here and put these on." "These" turned out to be a pair of tight, slightly padded panties. "They are especially designed for cross- dressers" Karen explained; "they provide you with a more feminine shape to your bottom and hips and have a device that enables you to use the lavatory without having to take them off." She helped me struggle into them. They were certainly very tight and I had some trouble pulling them up. Karen showed me how to ease my testicles back inside my body and how to insert my penis into a condom-like tube that had a small hole at the tip. There was another, slightly larger hole to the rear - (the purpose of which I am sure I do not have to explain!) Once firmly in place, I was allowed to look in the mirror and saw that the panties did, indeed, give me a smooth, flat front, swelling hips, and a womanly teardrop bottom. Next Karen asked me to lie on my back on the treatment table. She took a pair of very realistic breast forms and carefully positioned them on my, by now hairless, chest. Once she was satisfied she had them correctly aligned, she spread adhesive over the back of each of them and placed them in position. She took my hands and put them over the forms. "Just hold them in place until the glue sets" she said. "It won't take long. This glue can last for up to ten days, but, in order not to damage your skin, you really ought to take the forms off after about five days and start again. I will give you some special solvent and a supply of glue. Sally can help ensure you put them back in the correct position." It felt very odd lying there holding "my" breasts; I never could have imagined such a thing as recently as a couple of weeks ago but now it was a reality! When Karen was satisfied the glue had set and my breasts were firmly attached, she used a little liquid make-up to conceal the join. When she let me stand up and look in the mirror, they appeared to be a natural part of my body. "They are so large and heavy" I exclaimed, using my hands to relieve some of the strain I suddenly felt in my back. "Welcome to womanhood" Karen smiled. "I know your breasts must look huge to you as you see them for the first time, but actually they are only a B-cup and that is appropriate to someone of your build. Sally asked to give you a realistic appearance, not to go way over the top, as some trannies do." Passing me a white, lacy bra she said "let me help you put this on; it will provide support and take the strain off your back." I slipped my arms through the straps and Karen snapped the hooks in place. The relief was immediately apparent! "You will have to learn to do this yourself" warned Karen. "You might find it easier at first if you put it on backwards; fasten the clips where you can see them and then slide the bra round and put you arms through the straps last." I could see the sense in her advice. I looked, once again, at my reflection in the mirror. I saw the image of an attractive woman, dressed only in her bra and panties, with a prettily made-up face. The only thing that jarred was my short masculine haircut. "Sally and I did discuss whether I should weave extensions into your hair" Karen continued "but she finally decided that, like most transvestites, you should wear wigs. That way you can more easily experience different colours and styles." This made sense - (once you accepted Sally's initial premise that I should experience life as a tranny for the next week!) Karen sat me down in the chair once again and pinned my first wig in place. It was quite a simple wig; light brown with blonde highlights, it gently framed my face before falling, with a slight outward curl to my shoulders. The difference it made to my appearance was amazing. I really did look feminine now. Close inspection could not hide the fact that I was a cross-dressed man, but, at first glance, I could easily be mistaken for a woman. Karen helped me back into my clothes. First the pretty, lace-trimmed chemise; then the panty hose - (the sensation of nylon sliding over my newly hairless legs was mind-blowing!) I slipped into my pink blouse - (finding it easier now to do up the buttons the "wrong way round".) My black trousers fitted more snugly now that I had a bottom and curved smoothly inward over my crutch. I bent down to put on my shoes but Karen stopped me. "Now that you are more womanly, Sally thought it time you start to learn how to walk in heels. She has let you off lightly as this is your first time and given you a pair with only a two-and-a-half inch heel." The heels looked pretty high for me but I slipped into the black, patent court shoes and, somewhat unsteadily stood up. Karen held my arm as I tottered around the room but quite soon I was sufficiently confident to walk on my own. The heels and my tight panties gave a bit of a swing to my walk and Karen expressed herself satisfied that I could now visit Manchester's "Village" without looking out of place amongst the other transvestites and cross-dressers. I felt unexpectedly pleased with my appearance and swore to myself that I would do everything in power not to let Sally down and to make her proud of me during our visit to Manchester. As Sally had not yet returned, Karen and I sat down with a cup of coffee and she showed me some women's magazines, pointing out colours and outfits she thought would suit me. And so Sally found us; giggling like schoolgirls over the thought of me wearing some of the more outrageous dresses in the photographs. Sally had me stand; twirl; and walk around whilst she critically examined my transformation. I was very nervous. I really wanted to please her but did I look ridiculous in her eyes? After all I was the man she had taken as her husband and here I was mincing about in heels and make-up. Eventually Sally gave a squeal of delight and started dancing up and down. "Karen you have excelled yourself" she said; "he is exquisite and I know he will fit in perfectly in Manchester." "Darling" she continued, addressing me; "I am so proud of you. I wasn't sure you would go through with this, but I so glad you have decided to honour our agreement. I promise you we will have so much fun over the next week." It was now time for me to venture into the big wide world and to go shopping, with Sally, for my new wardrobe. I gave Karen a big hug and thanked her profusely for having taken so much time and care over my transformation. I still felt very peculiar and nervous, but it was "show time", so, taking a deep breath, and clutching Sally's hand tightly I stepped through the door and into the next phase of my challenge! It wasn't far from Karen's salon to the main shopping area of the town and I soon found myself admiring and commenting on various outfits Sally had identified as "possibles" in various shop windows. Sally pointed out that if we were going to make the most of our time in Manchester, we would both need a variety of different outfits. However, part of the fun of the holiday would be going out shopping together, so that today we only need to find a few basics things. Well women clearly have a very different concept of what is meant by the words "few" and "basic"; when we finally finished shopping we could hardly carry the large number of bags we had gathered! Our first port of call was Marks and Spencer. As Sally explained, M&S were by far the largest purveyor of underwear in the country - and that went for both women and men! Karen had taken careful measurements of my newly curved body, so Sally knew which sizes we need to look for. Initially it wasn't too embarrassing; we picked out three matching bra and panty sets - one in white, one in cream, and one in black. They were lacy and pretty, but nothing extreme. The bras were under-wired so as to give good support to my new breasts and the panties were high-leg and came comfortably up to my waist. We also picked up several pairs of tights - (pantyhose) - in a variety of shades and denier rating as Sally explained I would need heavier weight tights during the day but sheerer ones for evening wear. We also found a smart black, knee-length skirt for me. It was fitted over the hips but then flared slightly down to the hem; it wouldn't be too restrictive for me as I walked. Sally had also spotted a black/white/red striped silk blouse that she thought would go well with the skirt. It was silk, with long sleeves, button cuffs, and a high neck finished off with a bow. It was quite business-like and very smart. Sally insisted I try them on, so, deep breath and into a ladies changing room for the first time in my life! Sally came with me and helped me with the buttons. She also showed me how to raise my skirt and pull the hem of the blouse down to make sure it fitted properly. As I looked at myself in the mirror I did like what I saw, so we added these two items to the pile of purchases in our basket. "M&S are very good for costume jewellery" Sally told me. "I know you can't wear earrings for another few days, but let's see what we can find." We "found" half a dozen pairs of dangly earrings I just "had to have"; a few more pairs of studs; a variety of bracelets; a couple of chains; three necklaces; and a very pretty gold-coloured watch. "That will do for now" announced Sally; "we can look for more when we have found you more clothes and have a better idea of what will go with what." "No wonder women get through so much money" I thought resignedly, but secretly I was starting to enjoy myself. We left Marks and Spencer and continued on down the high street. My alarm bells started ringing as Sally dived in the La Senza lingerie shop; this was a very different proposition to M&S! Somewhat nervously I followed her in. "Every girl needs a few "naughties" in their underwear drawer" she announced, before leading me off to a display of basques and corsets. "You will look so delicious in this" she cried, holding up a green and black number with six suspenders - (garters) - hanging from the bottom. It was quite stiffly boned and would clearly enhance my, already too feminine, figure. But, I was clearly destined to have it and Sally thrust it into my arms before snatching up a pair of matching thong panties. "It will be a real challenge for you to work out how to keep your manhood under control whilst wearing these" she laughed. "I shall enjoy watching you struggle." Three pairs for very sheer stockings were added to our pile - one of them seamed, with a little diamante bow at the heel! I gulped; this was going further and faster than I could possibly have imagined. "Don't worry" Sally whispered in my ear; "for now these are just for the two of us to enjoy." Well that was a relief. Although I wasn't too sure about the implications of the "for now"! Visits to a number of other shops resulted in two day dresses - (one a royal blue, and the other grey with a black pattern woven into the material); three skirts - (one a bit too short for my comfort!); and half a dozen blouses, sweaters and cardigans. Although it hadn't been on Sally's original list, she couldn't resist buying me a very pretty burgundy velvet cocktail dress that caught her eye. We also picked out four pairs of shoes - another pair of black heels with a peep-toe, a pair of grey checked court shoes, a pair in brown, and a gorgeous pair of burgundy satin evening shoes - even I knew I had to have them the moment I tried them on - to go with my new evening dress. All the shoes had at least a three inch heel but, as Sally said, she had already given me a pair of flats I could change into when I needed to give my feet a rest! Finally we purchased a lightweight black gabardine coat, an evening bag - to go with my burgundy ensemble, and two day-time handbags - one black and the other in a brown crocodile pattern. Even though we shopped in chain stores, it seemed to me as though we had spent a fortune! Eventually we managed to stagger back to the car; piled all our bags in the boot and drove home - Sally at the wheel, of course. Once indoors Sally collapsed into a chair and asked me to make her a cup of tea. Although all I wanted to do was collapse also, I remembered, with a sense of guilt, the number of occasions I had made Sally wait on me when we had both come in tired, so, without any complaint, I went into the kitchen and made us a pot of tea. I laid up a tray with a pretty lace cloth and put out cups, saucers and milk jug. A few bourbon biscuits were set out on a matching plate, together with two napkins. I carried the tray through to the lounge and felt a warm glow of satisfaction when Sally complimented me on the way I was starting to do things properly and neatly. "We will make a woman of you yet" she announced with a smile. We sat and enjoyed our tea and then Sally insisted I give her a fashion display of all my new finery. She announced herself delighted with the way I looked and suggested I kept on my new blue dress for the rest of the evening. "Remember to put on an apron" she called after me as I went into the kitchen to prepare supper. "You don't want to get any splashes on that pretty frock." I was so weary that supper consisted of only an omelette and salad, washed down with a single glass of white wine. Sally expressed herself satisfied, however, and, once I had washed up, we retired to bed. "You can come back to our own bed from now on" Sally announced; "I think you have now learned how to be subservient so you no longer need to be made to sleep in a room on your own. However, tonight it will be a quick kiss and a cuddle-up as I am too tired for anything else. I was worn out too; so, once Sally had shown me how to remove my make-up, we had a quick shower, slipped into our nighties, and curled up in bed. As I lay there I could see my wig sitting on its stand on the dressing table and feel the unaccustomed weight of my breasts on my chest. It had been quite a day and tomorrow we were off to Manchester. What new adventures would the week bring and what other challenges had Sally thought up for me? Only time would tell! Although my new breasts made it difficult to find a comfortable position in which to lie, I eventually drifted off to sleep and slept soundly until our alarm went off at 0730. I quickly jumped out of bed and went downstairs to make Sally her early morning cup of tea. The sun was shinning and I suddenly realised I was feeling very excited and looking forward to our trip to Manchester. Whilst Sally was drinking her tea, I ran her a bath and then returned to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. I was still in my nightdress and robe when Sally came downstairs. She was wearing a new two-piece outfit in grey silk; a simple knee-length, slim-fitting dress was teamed with a long tight-fitting jacket that buttoned well up to her neck. A single rope of pearls around her throat was matched with tear-drop pearl earrings and two bracelets. She had put her hair up and looked stunning - if a little severe. "On this occasion I have packed our cases" she announced; "I have a few challenges in store for you and I want them to be a surprise. You can put the cases in the car once you have dressed. I have laid out what I want you to wear on the bed." We finished breakfast and I washed up and put away cups and plates. I then went upstairs for my shower. As I checked my face ion the mirror for beard stubble, I noticed that the cream Karen had put on the day before had clearly worked. There was no trace of any beard; well that was one job less, no need to shave today! This was probably just as well as Sally had told me to remove my breast forms and that took quite a time as I took care not to damage them. As I went to get dressed, I was surprised to see that Sally had laid out the trousers of my lavender uniform. Given that we had spent the previous day buying me a complete female wardrobe I couldn't see quite why she now wanted me back in trousers. Still it was not for me to argue with Sally's decisions, so I pulled on my elastic underpants - (not the new padded ones, but the original pair that had come with these trousers) - and then climbed into the trousers. Sally had laid out a new shirt for me. It was clearly a man's shirt but was a bright primrose colour and came with a deeper yellow tie. Over this I was expected to wear a man's sleeveless pullover in a deep fuchsia colour. A pair of purple socks and black, masculine loafers completed the ensemble. Talk about garish; there was no way I was going to blend into a crowd! I was looking at myself in the mirror - with some dismay, I have to confess - when Sally appeared at the door. "I know you must be wondering why I want you dress like this" she said; "you will get plenty of opportunities to wear your pretty new clothes once we get to Manchester, but I want it to be abundantly clear to everyone when we arrive that you are a sissy transvestite and totally subservient to me. So, I want you to retain your pink nail varnish and to put on a little eye-liner, mascara, and powder. You should also put on a little of this very pale pink lipstick, but you will keep you male hairstyle." After making these adjustments I looked totally effeminate. Sally handed me a lilac shoulder bag; "you will need this as your trousers don't have pockets." We went downstairs and I started to put our two suitcases into the boot. Then I noticed there was a third suitcase sitting in the hall. Sally smiled, "yes that one goes too" she said "it contains some of the surprises I have in store for you, but you mustn't peek!" As was now becoming the norm, Sally drove and I sat in the passenger seat. We only live about 50 miles from Manchester and so, in just over the hour, we were pulling up in front of the Rembrandt Hotel, which is situated in the centre of the Village on the corner of Canal Street. Sally made me carry the three cases into Reception whilst she checked us in. "As you can see my husband is a total sissy" she announced to all and sundry. "I have decided it is time for him to "come out" in public, so we intended to make full use of your facilities whilst we are here in Manchester." The Receptionist smiled kindly at me; clearly I wasn't the first husband to find himself in this situation in their hotel! "I'm sure you will have a great time" she said; "your room is on the top floor. We are only a small hotel and we have recently refurbished all the rooms. We have a "Showbar" on the first floor so there will plenty going on in the hotel all week for you to enjoy, although I am sure you will want to get out and about and explore the other delights that the Village has to offer. You couldn't have chosen a better place for your husband to come-out!" There was no lift so I had to struggle with our cases up to the second floor. Sally told me to go down to the bar and get us a couple of glasses of wine. She would unpack as she still did not want me to see all the things she had packed for our holiday. I went down to the bar and ordered two white wine spritzers. I went and sat at a table in the corner and looked around the room. It was lunchtime and hence quite busy. I was relieved to see that I didn't look totally out of place as there were several other flamboyantly dressed people in the bar. Now I suppose I ought to explain, for those unfamiliar with Manchester's Village, that it is the centre of gay, lesbian, bi-sexual, and transgendered life not only for Manchester but for much of the North of England. It is an area centred around Canal Street and is full of bars, clubs, discos and restaurants that all cater for a very eclectic clientele. It has become famous for the tolerance with which people of differing sexualities are treated and even those who consider themselves "straight" enjoy the nightly party ambiance. One a year the Village hosts the "Sparkle Weekend" which attracts transgendered folk from far and wide and has become quite a tourist attraction for the City. As I sat sipping my drink, I became aware that I was the subject of some glances from a group of men standing at the bar. I guessed from their mannerisms and dress that they were probably gay and, indeed, it did not take long for one of them to come over and sit at my table. "Hi" he said "we haven't seen you in here before; is it your first time in the Village?" I admitted it was. "I can see you are not alone" he said, pointing to the second glass of wine. "No" I replied "I am here with my wife and we are staying for the week." He smiled, "I'm sure you will enjoy yourself; there are loads of places to visit." And he started telling me about some of the different venues and the best times to visit them. It was not at all threatening and, to my surprise, I found myself happily chatting away and making notes on a pad I took from my handbag. The fact that I was carrying a handbag attracted no comment what-so-ever! And so Sally found us when she came downstairs. "Well you didn't waste any time making friends" she smiled. Giles, for that was his name, introduced himself, apologised for taking her seat, and started to leave. Sally insisted he stay and the three of us were soon mapping out a rough plan of the places we should make sure not to miss during our stay. Not all the sights were in the Village. Manchester has a lot to offer in terms of theatres, concerts, and galleries. We would clearly not be able to fit in everything and, with some trepidation, I quickly realised I would be parading my new finery all round the City, not just in the accepting, friendly Village area. "Maybe we will bump into each other later in the week" Giles said, as he rose and shook our hands. He leaned over and gave Sally a quick kiss on the cheek. To my surprise he then did the same to me. "Don't look so shocked" he laughed, "we are a very friendly crowd round here!" Having finished our drinks, Sally and I returned to our room. "Let's go and explore a bit" Sally suggested. "Stay dressed as you are for now, but you can glam up a bit more for this evening." We set off walked up and down the length of Canal Street, which is extremely attractive, as well as wandering into other side roads and squares. Giles was right; we found an enormous number of intriguing restaurants and clubs we thought we would like to try. We must have walked for nearly a couple of hours and Sally's heels were starting to hurt - (I was glad to be wearing loafers; later in week I fully anticipated sore feet myself!) - so we returned to the hotel, where I gave her a foot massage - something I had learned she very much enjoyed. After a bit of a rest, Sally suggested we start getting ready for the evening. "It is going to take you rather longer than me as you still need to become familiar with all the tricks we women have to go through to make ourselves pretty." Once I had checked my body and face for any re-growth of hair - there wasn't any - Sally helped me affix my breast forms and put on my new black bra. I managed to struggle into my padded panty and get all my "wobbly bits" tucked away before sliding a newly opened pair of sheer, nude pantyhose up my legs. "Take care not to ladder them with your nails" Sally cautioned; "buying tights can be very expensive if you only manage to wear each pair only once." "You make a start on your make-up" she advised "and I will check it over and tidy up if necessary." I did so and, apart from a couple of minor tweaks, Sally pronounced that I had done a good job. A warm glow of pride spread through me. Who would have thought even a couple of days ago that I would be pleased to be complimented on my make-up skills? Sally suggested I wear my new burgundy cocktail dress. "Tonight is a celebration; the first time for you in a restaurant wearing a dress; you want to look your best." The dress was velvet, falling to the knee, with a slightly flared skirt and a fitted bodice that was square cut above the breasts with two, broad, straps going over the shoulders. Under the velvet, and running from the bust, over the shoulders and down to the wrists was a see-though top in the same burgundy colour. Sally helped put my wig in place and dressed the hair so that it was held back off my face on one side, whilst falling over my ear on the other. She held the hair back with a pretty little burgundy flower on a comb. "I think your ears will have healed sufficiently for you to try some different earrings she announced" holding out a pair of dangly ruby- coloured drops. A delicate matching necklace was fastened round my throat and several beaded bracelets slid up my left wrist. I buckled my new gold watch on my right wrist and slipped my feet into my new burgundy shoes. Sally squirted me with some of her perfume and handed me my clutch bag. "We will have to find you your own perfume" she announced. "Every woman needs to find the one that best suits her." Whilst I had been fiddling around, taking my time to get dressed, Sally had, miraculously got herself ready. She looked stunning in a black, beaded cocktail dress with little spaghetti straps over her shoulders. She wore her blonde hair up in a twist on the top of her head. A diamond pendant hung between her spectacular breasts and similar studs sparked in her ears. Sheer black tights and patent heels completed her ensemble. "Well, are you ready for a night out on the town, you gorgeous thing?" she joked. "It is a warm evening so I don't think we will need to take a wrap. Anyway I have booked us a table at the Velvet; it is only a short walk and seemed appropriately named, given what you are wearing for your coming-out night!" We set off and soon were being ushered into the restaurant. One oddity is that it has a fish tank set in the floor and you have to walk across its glass roof to get to your seat; quite a peculiar sensation, but we managed it. Our waiter held out chairs and seated both of us. "And what can I get you ladies to drink?" he asked with a smile; "a bottle of Chardonnay" Sally replied, "nice and chilled." As he went to fetch our drinks Sally leaned over to me, "this is one of the up-sides to being a woman" she murmured, "not all men are chauvinists like you; some can really make you feel special." We studied the menu and ordered our meal. As we sat sipping our drinks, we were able to take time to look around the room at our fellow diners. They were an eclectic bunch; several tables were taken by same-sex partners - both men and women .There was a large party of obvious transvestites. They were clearly having a great time with a lot of noise and laughter emanating from their table. As far as I could make out this group were the only other crossdressed people in the room, but Sally pointed out a few other couples where the apparent woman was actually a man. They were so convincing; I knew I could never measure up to their standard of transformation - (but why should I want too? I'm only doing this because I entered into an agreement with Sally. In a week it will be all over, won't it? Never again will I have to put on women's clothing. Why does that thought raise mixed emotions within me?!!) We enjoyed a nice, relaxed meal, chatting quietly together as Sally outlined her plans for what we would do the next day. "Tomorrow night I intend to take you out clubbing, so we need to find you an appropriate dress; nothing we bought the other day is suitable, so it's back to the shops tomorrow morning. Then in the afternoon we can go to the Lowry Gallery in Salford. I don't