It Happened So Slowly free porn video

By Betty Noone It happened so gradually... ..that I didn't realize what was happening at the time. My name is Cissy Archer. It used to be Michael Spelling. Archer is my wife's maiden name and I have changed mine to hers. There is a reason for that, and I will tell you about that later. Some of my personal history: I am 5 foot 9 inches tall and now weigh 140 pounds.(When I first got married I weighed 165 pounds) I am 28 years old and have been married to my wife, Barbara, for five years. I am a college graduate with a bachelor's degree in Business Administration and until two years ago I was a rising executive at a branch bank of a major banking company. Two years ago my bank was in distress, because of the economy and poor lending decisions, and like so many others was bought out by another company. My employers constantly assured us that our jobs would be secure with the new owners. What they don't tell you is that the new owners bring in their own people to run the bank, especially at the management level. They call it 'downsizing' and I and many other employees in a management position were let go. My wife Barbara, on the other hand, did not go to college after her graduation from high school. She always knew she wanted to be a beautician and registered for classes soon after her graduation. Within a year she finished beauty school, got her license from the state and immediately found work at a local salon. It didn't take long for her vivacious personality to attract many clients and she was soon earning a lot of money. Barbara was also ambitious. After a year of learning the ropes working for others, she borrowed some money from her parents, and together with the money she had already saved, opened a small shop of her own. Most of her clientele followed her. Between personal recommendations of her customers, walk-ins, and some advertising, she soon had a shop with four operators beside herself. Six years ago, we met each other at a bar, started to date, and within six months we were married. Barbara already owned her own shop, and between the two of us, we were making a lot of money. Barbara's shop was open seven days a week, but she took Mondays and Tuesdays off because they were the shop's slowest days. She had already re-paid most of the loans that she took out to open the salon. She has a shrewd head for business, and besides being beautiful, I admired her for her smarts and ambition. I never pried into her business affairs, but Barbara seemed satisfied the way things were going. And then I got the axe at the bank. It came suddenly, and the new owners had no responsibility to the promises of the original employees. One month's severance pay was it, and I was on my own. With the country in recession and so many banks in trouble more banks were looking to get rid of employees rather than hire new ones. So, for six months I sent out resume after resume, without any positive response from any of them. I then widened my approach and applied for jobs in other areas than the banking systems and found that nobody was hiring. So many times I was told I would not be hired because I was 'overqualified'. Such rejection was not good for my state of mind. The one bright spot was Barbara. She took a chance and rented (at a marked-down price) a lot of space in a local mall. She moved her shop to the new location and added many more services than before. Instead of a beauty salon that offered only hair styling and nails, she created a beauty/day spa. Waxings, make-overs, massages and other pampering of the female customer would now be offered. It took a while for the contractors to finish but when they did, business took off like a frightened rabbit. Barbara was now working seven days a week, but making a lot of money. And I am sitting at home doing little. I tried to be helpful by preparing dinner for her when she finally got home and sort of kept house. I made the beds, did the washing, kept the toilets clean, and even vacuumed the rugs once in a while. I wasn't asked to do this, but I wanted to relieve Barbara from any additional stress. Barbara was pleased that I was trying to help, and she was certainly not happy that I was not properly employed, however she made no demands on me. Getting her new location up and running took a lot out of her. She came home at different hours of the day, always late, and completely exhausted. I felt my making a contribution was the least I could do. I got into the habit of preparing dinner for the two of us. This meant, thinking about what to make for dinner, and then going to the stores to shop for the food. I also got into the habit of getting up earlier than Barbara, letting her sleep as long as possible, and having breakfast waiting for her when she came downstairs. Had I not had breakfast ready she would be out of the house without it, and as she is having stressful days she needs to eat a good breakfast to start out the day. She did tell me often, how much she appreciated what I was doing. It took about three months after the grand opening that the shop began to run smoothly and be accommodating to the influx of new clients. It was at my insistence that Barbara began to leave work for home at a reasonable hour. She also now took off every Monday and Tuesday, as these were the slowest days of the week. At dinner one night, Barbara said that her receptionist suddenly informed her that she was taking two weeks off. Barbara asked if I would be willing to help out by filling in for the girl. I responded that I didn't know anything about her business, but Barbara said, it was easy. Just make appointments for those women who called in, and post them in the master appointment book. She also said that if I had time I could make myself useful around the shop by restocking the stations, and collect the payments from the customers and generally make myself useful. Of course I said I would be happy to help out. The next day we drove to the shop together. I had been there many times before while it was under construction prior to the opening, and of course for the grand opening day. But for the most part we kept our business activities private from each other. I was shown the reception desk, and in a very short time learned how to answer the phone and schedule appointments. At first, I felt a little uncomfortable in a shop where I was the only male, but everyone seemed happy to accept me and made me feel welcome. The first couple of days went quickly as everything was new to me. I was shown the supply room and how to re-stock supplies for the operators. I tried to make myself as useful as possible, and tried to do things without having to be told. Such as taking the broom and sweeping the hair from the floor around the operator's chair after each client left. This relieved the operator from having to do that chore. They smiled at me with a whispered "Thank you." Then when a client asked for tea, coffee, juice, or soft drink, I got it for them. This permitted the operator to continue her work without interruption. All the staff seemed to appreciate that. I put in an eight hour day although the shop was open for longer than that. When I left the shop it would be several hours before Barbara would be free to come home for dinner with me. But this gave me an opportunity to shop and prepare dinner. Yes, I can cook. You can too. If you can read you can cook. I bought several cook books and read the various meals that can be prepared. Some of the books even show how one can make complete meals, not just the entrees. They also give tips on how to serve them appetizingly. It was after the tenth day of my filling in at the shop, having dinner at home when Barbara said that the regular receptionist was returning in a few days, but that the girls at the shop appreciated the extra effort that I did, which incidentally, the regular receptionist did not do. Barbara asked if I would be willing to come to the shop and work on Saturdays and Sundays when the regular girl was off. My wife said that I would be paid $10.00 an hour and that she also.intended to pay me for the two weeks I am now completing. She made it plain that she realized that $10.00 an hour was not the kind of salary that I was accustomed to, but it would at least put some cash in my pocket to pay for my incidental expenses. I said I would be happy to continue to help out. Then Barbara said that she didn't like to correct me and that she certainly wouldn't do it at the shop in front of the others, but that the way I answered the phone often confused the caller. When hearing my voice, their brain did not register when I said, "Barbara's Salon, How may I help you?" but the heard only a male voice that they did not expect. My voice was too firm, too direct, and too male. My wife said if I could soften the tone it would be much better. I agreed and told my wife that I thought it strange that so many of the callers asked after I answered the phone, "Is this the spa (or salon)?" "That's exactly what I mean," Barbara said. I asked her to help me tone my voice down, and after we finished the dishes we went to the family room where we practiced having me speak differently. "Softer, softer", Barb said to me, as I tried out different voices and volumes. I was almost speaking in a whisper, and much slower than before, before Barbara said, "That's it!" The next day at the salon I tried out my new way of speaking and it worked! The caller no longer questioned if she had the right number. I spoke in almost a whisper and much slower that I normally did. By the second day, after spending 16 hours speaking like this I found it tiring and sometimes confusing (to me) to switch back and forth from one voice to another, and began to speak in my new voice all of the time. No one made any comment on it, pro or con. It was after dinner and during dessert when a contemplative look came on Barbara's face. I noticed it and asked her what the matter was. She said, "I had a thought. You know that many women prefer a male hairdresser. With the economy as it is, it may be a long time, if ever; before you get the kind of job you are qualified for. I can tell you that some of my operators are clearing as much as $800.00 a week, sometimes more. If you are willing to go to beauty school, you can finish within one year, get your license, and have a job with me. I will advance the costs of the school and when you start working you can pay me back from your earnings. I know it is not a bank job, but it is honest work, and I can tell you that women will always patronize stores for their personal beauty, so that you won't have to worry about losing your job. Who knows? You may even want to open your own store someday. It could be a good career. I know it isn't what you trained for, but in life things change, and you may have to change, too. I believe beauty services for women are recession-proof." I didn't answer right away, but continued to chew my cake as I thought about it, took a sip of water, and swallowed. "I'd like to give it a try", I said. Barbara told me that I could go one of two ways. If I went to school three days a week it would take a year and a half to finish. But if I went five days a week, I could finish just short of a year. "The sooner the better" I said. After all, had nothing better to do. And so it was decided. The was during the month of March, and by the next day I was enrolled in the next class beginning in just a few weeks, on April first. This was a new direction for me, but I was anxious to become a productive member of society again, and was looking forward to the first day of school. April 1st was on a Monday. At the time of enrollment I received a letter of instructions from the beauty college as to how to prepare for the first day of class. The two main items other that seeing that the tuition was paid in advance, was not to cut or file your finger nails, and not to have your hair cut. Classes would be between six and seven hours each day, and would be divided into three different classifications. The first would be hair styling and cutting. The second would be nails, manicures and pedicures and the third would be all other salon services. The third session would be after nails and hair were concluded. Waxing, eyebrow shaping, cosmetics were among the items included in the third classification. Classes start promptly at nine. I was at the building by eight-thirty, as I didn't know exactly how long it would take me to drive from my home, and I didn't want to be late. I sat in my car in the parking lot until it was 8:50 and then went into the building and to the classroom. There were fourteen students in my class. Twelve were females and just one other male beside me. His first name was Howard and he was obviously swishy. He was polite to me when he introduced himself, but he seemed much more comfortable when talking with the girls in the class. The first day of the class we were shown the various instruments that will be used in the class work. And each of us had to buy our own instruments to work with. We must bring them to class each day and we are not permitted to either borrow or lend any to the other students. The tools came in two packages. The first was the hair dresser kit which consisted of brushes, scissors, combs, and tweezers. The second package was the manicure package which consisted of cuticle scissors, nail files, buffers, and various nail polishes. The use of electric clippers, soaking dishes, hair dryers, lotions, and other such items were furnished by the school. By the afternoon the instructor was showing the class how to file nails in a French tip design, and how to use the cuticle scissors without cutting (and drawing blood) the hands of the client. We were paired off after the instructors' demonstration so we could work on one another. I was partnered with a young Hispanic girl by the name of Maria (what else?) She didn't seem to be over 18 years of age. The assignment was to work on only one finger on each hand and then put polish on it. I did her hands first, and then applied the top coat using two thin coats. I took my time as to not cut her. It was more difficult that I thought it would be. Filing the nail so that it was straight at the front, but applying the polish so that there was a white line at the tip of the nail was far more difficult. It took me four tries before I could get the instructor to say to me, "Not perfect, but good enough". When it came time for Maria to do mine she went faster. She obviously was more familiar with these instruments and this style than I was. I cannot tell you what happened, or why, but when she applied the beige polish on my two fingers I developed a massive erection. I was so conscious of this and afraid that anyone would see. I know my face was red from blushing. But I had to get up from the chair sometime, and it wouldn't go away. We were told to leave the polish on until we returned to class the next day. Maria, spoke softly to me, "I see that you are excited, is it me?" I told her I didn't know what it was, that it never happened to me like this before. There is only one bathroom and it is located in the hallway of the school, and I went to it, hoping that if I urinate, it would go away. Standing in front of the toilet (there was no urinal) my erection was so hard that I couldn't even pee. I was glad that this was the last class of the day. When I arrived home, Barbara was waiting for me, anxious to hear how I fared at school. My erection did not go down and was still rock hard when I got in the door at home. I told her what happened and she said that would not do. I asked her, "What can I do? It won't go away!" She looked at the polish on my two thumbs that Maria had painted and she said that they looked very nice. Barbara's face brightened and she said. "We still have that CB3000 that we played with when we first were married. If you wear that it will keep you from getting an erection. Go upstairs and bring it down." When I returned with the chastity device Barbara said, "I think this has something to do with putting polish on your nails. There is going to be more polish and other things you will have to do at school. You simply cannot go to school like this." And I heartily agreed. "Tell you what," Barb said. "You wear the belt to school and when you come home I will give you relief. When you come home tomorrow, I will take off the belt and give you oral sex! Would you like that?" I told her that I could use some relief right now, and without another word, Barbara went down on her knees, unzipped my fly, and proceeded to bring me to climax. And it didn't take long for me to get to that point. She took all the fluid I had and swallowed it. Barbara said for me to stay in the foyer that she would be right back. She came back with a soapy wash cloth and proceeded to clean me up. And when she dried my now flaccid member, she put a dash of baby oil on her hand and proceeded to oil it. And in a second she had the ring closed around my scrotum and the CD3000 installed. With a second motion she put the lock on and snapped it shut. And with that, she told me that she would take care of me every night when I returned from class, but while the chastity device was on me, it would be impossible for me to get hard. Previously we had oral sex with each other from time to time, but mostly our sex life, which was good, was the good old vanilla missionary position. The prospect of me getting a daily blow job sounded really good to me and I made no objection to wearing the chastity belt for the rest of the time. But another problem made itself evident. I was wearing boxer shorts and the chastity belt came through the crotch causing a bulge in my trousers. Barbara immediately had a fix for that. "You will have to sit to pee anyway", she said, "so you will have to wear panties with it. The lack of crotch in the panties will hold the device close to your body and the bulge will be minimal. Barbara had made dinner having come home this day earlier than me. afterwards we watched a little television and I got very tired afterwards from the tension of the day, and I went to bed early. In the morning when I awoke, I took my shower and shaved. There was no problem with getting my penis soapy and rinsed using the hose attached to the shower head. When I returned to the bedroom Barbara was waiting for me and handed me a pair of her panties and without saying a word, I put them on, and they fit over the CB3000 quite comfortably. I knew that this was going to be a better day, shame-wise. I brought all of my tools home with me as we were instructed to do. I carried them in a paper bag which sort of looked tacky and was subject to tearing. I tried to fit the tools in my brief case which I had from my banking job, but the tools were too bulky for me to close the case. Barbara found a purse for me to carry the tools in that wasn't too feminine looking, and I put the tools and my notebook in them, and after breakfast, was off for the second day of school. The morning session was on hair. The different types of hair that humans have, and all of the students took extensive notes. The afternoon session, we again paired off with the same partner as the first day, and this time the entire hand was filed cuticled, and painted. Never having had polish on my hands before, I was sort of hypnotized by the way they looked. The instructor told us that we must keep the polish on for a full week so that we can learn how to take care of our manicured hands. Again this was the last class of the day, and I was self-conscious about walking to my car. I had a purse with my tools, but carried it under my arm instead of using the shoulder straps, and all the fingers on both hands were French tipped and enameled. As I walked to the parking lot to get into my car I tried to close my fists so that the polish would not be visible to others. I soon realized that no-body looked in my direction and I breathed a little easier. When I got home I was still looking at my hands with the nail polish on them. They looked different. But what I didn't do was to get sexually aroused. The CB3000 saw to that. I wasn't aroused all day. I got home before Barbara and went to work in the kitchen to prepare dinner for the two of us. About an hour later Barbara came home and the first thing she asked me was how did it go today? I told her it was fine, but that I now had manicured nails and spread my fingers to show her. She told me they looked beautiful, and that she didn't realize how nice my fingers were. She asked what I thought about them, and I said that I realize that men ordinarily do not have painted nails, but that I thought they looked nice, too. She said that she 'loved' them, and I said I liked them as well. We ate dinner talking about each person's day. I told her that I thought classes were interesting, and that I would really enjoy going to class, completing school, and becoming a beautician. When we finished doing the dishes and putting everything away, Barbara told me to go upstairs and get into the bed and that she would be up to take care of me. Without any hesitation I was undressed and in bed. Barbara came into the room with her soapy wash cloth and proceeded to unlock me and wash my penis. Before she came down to me she went to the lavatory and washed the CB3000, dried it, oiled it, and placed it on the nightstand next to the bed. I took my pants off, she straddled me, sitting on my legs, and proceeded take me in her mouth to climax, again swallowing it all She then washed me, oiled me and locked me up as soon as she was finished with me. And this became the routine for the remainder of the week. Strangely, but by the end of the second day I had gotten used to having polish on my hands and didn't seem to notice it so much. They were just there. But I did notice that I had to do things differently with polished hands and long nails than without. For example one had to be careful about chipping or scratching the enamel. Then with long nails I found that certain tasks had to be performed differently. Such things as picking up change from a counter. or punching in a telephone number had to be done with the fingers in a different position as before. For example, I found that I had to use the pads of my fingers when punching in a telephone number. Also, I began to wear rubber gloves to protect my manicure while washing dishes. Things like that means that one is always conscious of their nails at all time. It is now Saturday morning and the end of my first week of beauty school. It is also my first day to work weekends at the Salon. I don't have to be there until 9 A.M. but Barbara left much earlier to get the shop ready for the busiest day of the week. I was a little apprehensive about my polished hands when I walked into the salon, but I needn't have been. Apparently Barbara alerted the staff about me before I arrived and except for complimenting me as to how nice my hands now looked, nothing else was said. With the arrival of each customer, I noticed the staff whispering to her and a quick glance was made towards me, with a slight smile. I did all of the chores that I did before, bringing the customers their desired order of coffee, tea or juice. Some even commented on how nice my hands looked, and I replied with a whispery "thank you". Barbara and I left for home at the same time, for while Saturday is a busy day; most of the clients want to be out of the shop no later than 4 P.M. in order to get ready for their Saturday night activities. After that time, the shop is quiet and usually closes by 5P.M. We were both tired and didn't feel like cooking or eating out, so we ordered a pizza. When the delivery boy rang the bell, Barbara said for me to get it and pay the boy and I did. I did get a strange look from the delivery boy when he saw my hands when I took the pizza and paid him. By this time I didn't care who saw. I got used to it. That night Barbara said to me that while I was getting my jollies each night, there was nothing in it for her, and what did I think about servicing her at the same time she did me whenever she had the need for it? I have been there before and told her that I would be happy to. After she unlocked me, washed me, we took the sixty-nine position and began to satisfy each other. And afterwards, as usual, I was again locked up for the rest of the day. And this is how we now had sex. Barbara only asked to be serviced about once a week, usually on Saturday night, and the rest of the time it was only me that was taken care of. One day I mentioned to my wife that I never entered her anymore, and she asked me which I liked better, this way or the old way? I responded that I really liked oral sex better. I didn't realize at the time that this was to be a permanent condition and would never again penetrate my wife sexually. My mood changed for the better. I was happier being busy than being idle. I no longer focused on being unemployed, but was eagerly looking forward to a new and different career. The weeks went on. The second and third week were on different types of nails. We learned about oval nails and ceramic extensions. I found the extensions the hardest; not only to install, but when they were on me the additional length of the nails caused problems. For example, with the nails so long, I found it difficult, almost impossible, to operate the zipper to the fly on my trousers in order to go to the bathroom. When I brought this to Barbara's attention she said that the only solution she could think about was that I wear a pair of her slacks. While they had no crotch opening, the waist band was elasticized so that I could pull down the slacks using only the thumbs of each hand. That night I tried on a pair of her slacks and found them only slightly shorter than my pants and that indeed they would do the trick. The following morning, when I was getting dressed for school I discovered another problem. Barbara's slacks had no pockets! Again, Barbara had the solution. I will have to put my wallet, handkerchief, car and house keys, and other stuff into my purse. I was also given a little change purse, otherwise any change would settle to the bottom of the purse and if I needed change, I would never find it. By this time I was developing a hard skin when people saw my manicured hands and with my wife's constant approval, began not to care what strangers, who meant nothing to me, said when they saw me. But I must say that up to this time such was minimal. Most said nothing at all. My added personal items made my purse too bulky to carry under my arm, as I did before, and I put the straps to the purse on my shoulder and off to my car I went. From that time on, I carried the purse that way. When I arrived at school with my purse and slacks, if anyone noticed anything out of the ordinary, they didn't say anything to me about it. I must say that Barbara's slacks fit me better than my old ones. I expect that is due to the fact that without pockets to carry stuff the material can shape around your body better. In the meantime, the hairdressing part of our curriculum was about learning scalp conditions, hazards of over-dying or having the dryer on too long. By now my hair was curling around the back of my neck and my sideburns were long enough to brush back along the sides of my head behind my ears. Since my hair was the shortest of any of the other students, including Howard, I was chosen to be the first guinea pig to set an example of what can be done with short hair. I was brought to the front of the class, and sat in the salon chair that was located there. A cape was put around me, so that only my head showed. The instructor lowered the back of the chair so that my head was over the wash sink and gave my head a thorough wash and rinse. She explained to the students that this must always be done first, to rid the hair of any oils and dirt that may have accumulated in the hair, allowing the chemicals and soaps to be able to perform properly. After the shampoo and dryer, my hair which is naturally sandy colored, was discussed by the class. What color should the teacher make it? There were suggestions offered from the students from the ridiculous (green!) to others. The teacher said that she was going to darken my hair to a light auburn color as she thought it would go nice with the coloring of my skin. As my hair was being dyed the instructor explained to the class (and me) every step of the way. This procedure took about three hours and it was time for a lunch break. I wasn't finished as being a subject for the class, as during the afternoon session she was going to style my hair with what she had to work with, which wasn't much. I have been bringing my lunch to class each day. There is a small refrigerator where the students could store their lunch. The school was not located in a great neighborhood and there were but a few decent places where one could eat that were nearby. This however, did not deter most of the girls in the class to go out for lunch each school day. This day, one of the girls, I believe it was Robyn, asked me if I would like to join them. The lunch I brought with me that day was not particularly interesting, and I thought this would be a good break to get out (it is now the middle of June) and enjoy the nice day, and I accepted. I don't know if it was by design, but this day all the students, including Howard went out to lunch together. Before I left I went to the bathroom to pee, and I must have not locked the bathroom door properly and Howard opened the door and saw me peeing sitting down. He quickly shut the door, and I know that he would be the first one to tell the others. But I came out of the bathroom picked up my purse and off we went to lunch. It soon became second nature for me to now carry my purse with me wherever I went when I was not at home. I have been working at my wife's salon for months now and have become knowledgeable about what women like to talk about. Indeed, there were four hours of classes solely on how to converse with your customer while doing your work. Women are lingual, like to talk, and you just can't be silent or they won't book you again. The more your client liked you the bigger tip you could expect to get. In this business a major part of your income is from tips. Even now, occasionally a client will slip me a five dollar bill when she is leaving he shop. So, I learned to talk about clothes, jewelry, movie stars, recipes, and yes, even babies. At work and at home I already began to read women's magazines, the grocery story tabloids and the food section in the daily newspaper. Therefore, when we were at lunch, I felt comfortable fitting right into their conversations. Howard seemed surprised that I was able to do this, as he already was just 'one of the girls'. When we got back to class, the girls told me that I was fun to be with, and if I didn't have to bring my lunch each day, why don't I join them on a regular basis. It is lonely eating your bag lunch at your desk all by yourself, and I also enjoyed the outing and said that from here on, I would. The following week, the class on nails went to teaching about pedicures. This is a whole new area. First, it is difficult on the operator to kneel or to bend over in order to work on the feet. Second, the nails one's feet are much harder than fingernails, and present different problems in preparing them for polish. But we did learn. Again the rule was that my class partner and I did each other?s feet. As was the case with the other demonstrations, we all had to wear the polish on our toes for one full week. We also had to wear open toed shoes to show off the pedicure. I didn't have any, but the girls at lunch hearing me complain about it, decided that before returning to the class that day, we would go shoe shopping. There is a Pay-Less shoe store nearby, and twelve women and two men come into the store for the purpose of buying only one pair of shoes. I headed for the men's section but the girls corralled me and pushed me to the ladies section. They said that no men's shoe would show off the pedicure properly. I did not know what size shoe I would take but one of the girls found a measurer and it was determined that I took a women's size 10 in a medium width. While ten is a large size for most women, it is also within the range of most women's shoe styles, so there was no problem finding a pair of shoes to fit. They found a platform wedgie with a 1- 1/2 inch heel that was in a nice beige summer color with an ankle strap. After trying them on for fit, they had me walk around the store for a couple of times to see if they were comfortable to wear. They were, and were not expensive, so I dug into my purse, pulled out my wallet and paid the cashier, wearing them out of the store. As with the first time I had my nails manicured and polished, I was fascinated by my red painted toes peeking out from the front of the shoes. I found that the wedgie and heel height was no problem, but it did make me walk with a shorter step. When we returned to the class the instructor complimented me on how nice my feet looked in their new shoes and that I had made the right choice. It made me feel good. The afternoon session was devoted giving me a permanent and styling. The instructor determined that with my shorter hair, the best she could do with it at this time was to give my head a mass of ringlets. It is called Greek Boy style. It took most of the afternoon and when I was done, I am now auburn haired with red highlights and a mass of curls all over my head. I can't say that I thought it made me look feminine, but it surely did make me look different. After looking at myself in the full length mirror, I said "Thank you CB3000 or I would have been in trouble today." I had to stop off at the grocers for supplies for dinner, and here I come, prancing in with my auburn curled head, red fingernails and toes and women's wedgies, and carrying a purse. I did get funny looks from some of the other shoppers, but I was at the stage where I could care less. It was Barbara's constant re-enforcement of my changing look that gave me the will. I would do anything to please her. She told me, "You have to do what is best for you, if others don't like it, well, that is their problem not yours." My wife was approving everything that was happening to me, and she always said how really nice I looked. I began to think so too. I arrived home, prepared dinner, and had a glass of wine while waiting for Barbara to come home from the shop. She came through the front door about 6:30 and the first thing she saw was my shoes, then she really looked at my head, and broke out in a big smile, saying, "I love it, I really love it." She asked if I loved it too, and for the first time, I heard myself saying, "I love it, too." We ate dinner, chatting about our days. She laughed when I told her the story about my buying the shoes. I began to realize that my days were only with females. When I was at the bank I played golf each Sunday morning with three of my golfing buddies. On the last Thursday of each month, there was my stag poker group. During my unemployment, even though Barbara said she would give me the money, I thought both of these activities were too costly and I dropped out. I didn't pay much attention to it before but these were my only male friends. Now that I was starting to make my own money I could have resumed the poker group, but I just didn't have the time. I also felt that the guys would not be happy with my new look. Our social life, due to Barbara's hectic schedule was nil. Not only that, but I am now in school five days a week and at the Salon on the weekends. My days are filled. Not only was there class five days a week, but a lot of homework reading for the next day's class as well. It really didn't matter. My wife and I always were comfortable in each other?s company, and never seemed to run out of conversation. Here I am wearing panties, my penis under lock and key, women's slacks, painted fingers and toes, and a feminine hair-do, and I am not troubled with it. Everyone has been so nice to me, and I accepted these changes as part of my schooling, but I also found that I began to like the way I am beginning to look, and didn't care what anyone else thought of it. While we were watching TV before going upstairs to bed (and my sexual release) I asked Barbara, "Am I becoming a sissy?" Her answer surprised me. She said, "If you are, you are MY sissy." I nodded my head and thought, being a sissy is not too bad, in fact it feels quite nice. Since Barbara's and my weight loss, we both had to replenish our wardrobe to accommodate our smaller sizes. I now had a supply of my own slacks and panties. Barbara insisted that my panties have padding in the rear and hips as they would make the slacks fit better. I also noticed that with the weight loss and limited physical activity, as most of my day was now spent sitting down, that my muscle mass was reduced. Items suddenly seemed heavier to pick up. My arms and legs were rounder and thinner. Even my shoulders were smaller. I could no longer grasp a bunch of skin by my abdomen and come up with fat. I was tight. I continued to wear my men's golf shirts with the slacks. and my men's loafers instead of the men's dress shoes. I started to wear the loafers without wearing socks. I now had three pairs of women's shoes. The second pair was bought when I was with Barbara, as she definitely wanted me to have a pair of three inch pumps. Barbara went with me to a regular shoe store to buy them. A male salesperson took care of us. I don't think I could have gone through it if Barbara was not there. She acted as if it was perfectly normal for a man to be buying a pair of ladies pumps with a three inch heel. She acted as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world, and I took courage from her attitude. I can tell you that there is a big difference in how one walks with a 3" heel. Barbara wanted me to get used to wearing them, but for now, I wore them only at home. I found that it took a couple of weeks before the muscles in my calf stopped hurting after I took them off. The third pair was a gift from my wife, and they were a pair of lounging mules with a two inch heel that I wore in the morning before I got dressed for the day. That night while I was in bed and on my back and Barbara was engaged in giving me oral sex, I came as usual, but this time Barbara brought her head up to mine, and said "open", and when I did, she place her lips to mine and put my own semen in my mouth. With her hand she closed my jaw and said, "taste and swallow". I was taken by surprise but did as she said. Later I asked what that was about, and she said that she wanted me to taste the goodness and enjoyment of swallowing cum. She asked if I liked the taste, and I honestly replied that I was too taken aback to savor it, but that it was not unpleasant. She told me that I would learn to not only like it, but will crave it. I asked her where this is all going and she said she didn't know, but to let it happen one step at a time. From then on I took a mouthful after each climax. The thought of it was at first abhorrent to me, but, as Barbara promised, after less than two weeks I was looking forward to my getting my share after each time I climaxed. About a month later, on a Saturday night, Barbara handed me a nylon shorty nightgown and asked me to put it on. She said it would be more comfortable for her if I would wear it. I put it on and was surprised at how light and airy it felt as compared to my cotton pajamas. But the big surprise is when she positioned herself to me in the 69 position placed in my hand a penis shaped dildo. "What...? I began to say, and without letting me finish the sentence, she said "Take it! If you really don't like it, we won't do it again, but I want you to really open your mind and your mouth and take it. Suck it like a pacifier, and lick it with your tongue." I opened my mouth and with my hand directed the artificial penis into my mouth and began to do as she said. And with that Barbara began to do the same to me. As she was bringing me to a climax I found that I was licking and sucking harder and faster. When I came, Barbara grabbed a rubber bulb with an end on it that she had placed on the end table, and vacuumed the semen from her mouth, turned to me and place the end of the ball into a hole in the other side of my dildo and pressed the bulb, shooting the semen through a hole in the center into my mouth. "Suck and swallow, my pet," she cooed. And I obeyed. I wanted the cum but this was a new way of getting it. Afterwards, I was asked if I was OK with it. I admitted that I found it quite pleasant, especially when the semen came through. From that time on, my sucking on the dildo while being serviced became routine. Another thing was occurring that happened by accident. The cook books that I originally purchased were 'healthy eating' books. So a lot of the recipes were for salads, chicken and fish, with little or no red meat. Slowly we both began to lose weight due to a healthier diet. Within four months I came down from 175 pounds to 145 pounds. Barbara lost weight as well. I now was only ten pounds heavier than her. We were both happy that the love handles that were developing began to disappear. I never felt more fit in my life. Barbara and others were telling me how good I was looking these days, and I felt good about that. One day in the middle of July the outdoor temperature was predicted to be close to 100 degrees. At breakfast I mentioned to Barbara how hot I was going to be wearing slacks that day. "Why don't you wear one of your cool summer dresses?" I have several summer frocks that fall just short of the knee. They have full skirts and no sleeves and open necks. "You think?" "I think" she replied. I went back upstairs and changed to a summery dress, put on my sandals and barelegged started off to class. I have been wearing them in the house and this is the first time I wore them outdoors. I was so surprised at how cool they felt on my body. The air went about my legs and thighs. So much better than slacks. Because of my having to change clothes, it made me a little late getting to class that morning. When I entered the classroom and the class saw what I was wearing, they burst in spontaneous applause. I don't know why or how I even know how to do it, but I put one leg behind me and gave a little dip curtsey, smiled and took my seat. Wearing skirts to class was easier to do from then on. By the end of September and the class is starting to learn about cosmetics. You have heard the phrase, "The 'ayes' have it." Well, let me tell you, the eyes have it, as well. This time I was again brought up to class to be the first one to have their eyes made up by the teacher. I sat in the chair while the teacher worked on me, explaining to the class what she was doing, and why, and what kind of results you could expect. The first thing she did was to glue eyelash extensions to my natural lids one lash at a time. She did this with a tweezers and a tiny bit of superglue applied to my regular lashes. It only took about a half hour for this to be completed. She then took a small scissors and trimmed the lashes so that they were even. Afterwards she crimped my lashes with an eyelash curler. The teacher raised the chair so that I could see myself in the mirror, and I could not believe the change that could occur just by having thicker and longer eyelashes. I was reclined again and she began to put makeup on and around my eyes. Eyeliner, mascara, eye shadow, all were put on and the class was also being instructed with each step that was applied. She also tried to tell the class what things to avoid in doing ones' eyes. She said just walk the streets and see how many women are not putting on their eye makeup properly with unsatisfactory results. When she was finished with me, she raised me up, and the entire class hooted in approval. I looked in the mirror and I could see why. It was a female staring back at me. The instructor said I just needed a little lipstick to complete the picture and she applied a light shade of coral to my lips, and had me blot them. My eyes looked twice the size as before; the longer and thicker lashes completed the effect. Somehow my nose, while never too big, seemed smaller and finer. At that moment a terrible thought occurred to me. I now do not look anything like the picture on my driver?s license! How can I drive home? Fortunately, it was late September and the days got dark early now. By the time I left the classroom it was almost dark outside, and walking to the car I felt no-one could tell that I was not a female. But I was very nervous driving home that night, being careful to not be stopped for a driving violation. I made it home safely, but I sure was nervous. Barbara was ecstatic when she came home and saw me in my makeup. I was given the cosmetics that were used, and as before, had to wear this look for a full week including the lipstick. I told my wife about my fears of driving, and she agreed with me. She made a couple of calls to some of the girls in my class, some who did not live too far from us, and one of them agreed to pick me up and bring me home each school day. On weekends I would drive in early with Barbara so that we could drive together. For the time being, my driving days are over. That night after dinner and a couple of glasses of wine, now chatting girl talk, Barbara suddenly told me that she really loved the way my eyes looked and would I mind continuing keeping them that way. "I am really a sissy now, aren't I? " I asked. "Yes," she replied, "but I love the new you. I must tell you that when you were unsuccessful in getting employment I recognized that you were becoming quite depressed, to the point of where I felt you were becoming so sullen and remote that I was losing you. Our marriage would not survive my success and your failure. Look at you now. You hum, you sing, you have a lilt in your step. You are happy and that makes me happy. I also find that I need you at the shop and am looking forward to where you can come in as a full time operator. Is it the same as before? No, certainly not. But changes come about all of the time with everyone, and I find that I love you more now than ever before!" "Then I am happy to be a sissy, your sissy." My wife nodded her head in agreement. It was late October when Barbara took me by surprise by telling me that she wanted me to change my last name to hers. Because of her signature on so many legal documents pertaining to the business, she never changed her name to mine. She also said that she would like for me to legally change my first name to Cissy. She admitted that I was now more sissy than not, and this name would be more accurate considering what I have become. I said I would have to think about it before I gave her an answer and she said that would be O.K. But on Saturday when I arrived at the shop, I found my lab coat, which all employees wore with their names embroidered on it over the left front pocket, was now not only pink instead of the white one I usually wore, but the name "Cissy" was embroidered on it. It quickly became obvious that the employees were briefed by Barbara, as whenever I was needed I was called by the name "Cissy". And I responded. It took me another week of being called Cissy to agree to having both my first and last name legally changed. The next school day I went to the instructor and informed her of the change, and she made an announcement to the class that from now on, I will be known as "Cissy". The reaction from the class surprised me. Everyone, including Howard again erupted in applause. I now became one of the girls. Several days later, the girls presented me with a name tag with my new name on it, and said I should wear it whenever I am with them. One Friday when class was over one of the girls came over and said that she and the others were going out for a drink and would I care to come along? I told her I would check with my wife and if she didn't object I would come. I called Barbara on my cell phone and she said to have a good time, but to try to not get home too late. That she would eat dinner, and keep my dinner warm for me when I got home. The fourteen of us (Howard, too) walked a couple of blocks to a bar. It was not quite six PM and the place was not too busy yet, so there was plenty of room available, The bartender helped out by moving some of the tables and chairs together so that we could sit as one big group. Everybody ordered their favorite drink, and I, while not a big drinker, just ordered a glass of white wine. It wasn't long before a nice looking man who looked like he was in his middle thirties, came over to the table. The girls knew him and made him welcome. He pulled up a chair and looked at me, and said, "I know everyone else, but you are new". I responded that this was my first time out with the girls. He pulled up his chair next to mine, and began to talk to me. He was an interesting conversationalist and we found many subjects of mutual interest. I have always worn my wedding band, and he noticed it, and asked me if I was still married. When I said, "Yes, and I am not out to pick anyone up but just came with the girls to have a drink", Some of the other girls began to laugh hysterically. It was then I realized I was set up. He knew who I was, but, he didn't care. He said that it was supposed to be a gag, but that instead he found me fascinating and would like to see me again. I was having a good time, particularly after my third glass of wine, and said, "Maybe". There was a juke box in the place, he went over to it, put some coins in it and a slow song began to play. It was then he asked me to dance with him. I told him that I was not a female, and he said, that he knew that, but wanted to dance with me anyway. The others in my party began to chant, "go, go. go" and to shut them up, I let him take my hand and lead me to the center of the bar where there was a small dance floor. Never having danced with a man before, it took me a minute or so to remember how a woman held her hands when dancing with a man, and I then let him hold my left hand with his right hand and I put my right hand gently behind his neck. His left hand guided my in the small of my back. After the song played for a minute he pulled me closer into him and I was able to feel his erection. I told him that I felt him and that it was making me uncomfortable and could we please go back to the table. He reluctantly let me go, and walked me back to the table. He did tell me that he liked me and would like to see me again. Again I said, "Maybe". I was getting confused. Being a sissy is one thing, but being with another man was another. I wasn't sure I was ready for that, if ever. When I got home, Barbara was waiting to hear how my outing with the girls went. From the very beginning of our marriage we made a pact that we would always be truthful with one another, and I told her the whole story including my confused feelings. She told me not to worry about it that things would work itself out. Thanksgiving time was coming and we were invited to her parents for the holiday. We haven't seen them for many months as they live several hundred miles from us. They certainly haven't seen me since my transformation began. My wardrobe is getting larger and larger. I wear nighties to bed all of the time now, and have a nylon caftan to wear to lounge in. I change to the caftan and slippers every night when lounging after the dishes are put away. In the meantime, my ears have been pierced so I can wear pretty earrings, and Barbara seems to be shopping for presents for me all of the time. She took me to a jewelry story and had me select some rings for my fingers and assorted bracelets and necklaces. I was given a jewelry box of my very own, and it was filling up with a lot of nice items. I can't say that I didn't like it. I am wearing full make up now, and learned the difference between applying makeup for daytime or for night-time or special occasions. My hair grew out, and the style was changed from Greek boy to a left part with the hair coming down each side of my face The present length is down to about my chin, but I am going to let it grow longer. The color of my hair is about the same as when it was first changed, OK, maybe a little redder. My legal name change came through and Barbara drove me to the driver?s license station to have a new picture taken so that I could again drive by myself. If the employee at the station noticed that the driver?s license still stated "male' he made no mention of it. Not having a real female shape meant that any dresses I wore would look better if they were shifts instead of shirtwaists, as I had no female waist. When dressed I looked like a woman who didn't have big tits as I am only using a B size bra. It was an athletic appearance. I am not beautiful by any means, but am told that I am considered "nice looking.' I pass easily and would probably look nicer with real tits, but no-one has suggested it as yet. Of course with the skirts came stockings. I have been wearing blouses instead of golf shirts for months now. Most of my stockings are thigh-highs and don't require wearing a garter belt or girdle. I have some mid-calves for when I wear slacks, which I do most of the time. So Thanksgiving day came and we prepared to leave for Barbara's folk?s house. I was wearing a lovely light green silk blouse. I also had on a pearl choker that was a gift from Barbara Cream colored linen slacks completed my outfit. My hair and makeup were perfect and I looked quite nice, I thought. It is just that I didn't look like a Michael anymore. I wasn't a Michael anymore. Barbara briefed her folks about what to expect when they saw me, but hearing and seeing are two different cups of tea and so I was a little apprehensive about their reaction when they first saw me. We arrived at their house after a few hours driving. The house was packed with relatives and friends. I no longer was concerned if anybody liked the new me or not, so in I went. My in-laws greeted me warmly, even more so than before, told me how nice I looked and I thanked them. It took them a while to learn to address me as ' Cissy' but I didn't look like a Michael anymore, but I did look like a Cissy, Most of the other male relatives were polite to me but distant, but that's OK as they weren't that friendly to me before.The females were mostly more accepting. I have to comment that it was not always pleasant. There were a lot of 'incidents' along the way. Some women, all right, a lot of women, do not like sissies or feminine males. They already have or want he-men, and talking about clothes with a man is not what they want to do. Some women resented that I only had the "good stuff" about being feminine. They resented that I did not have to go through the monthly female cycle with its attendant bloating, bleeding, personality changes and distress. The resented that I didn't have female hormones raging through me to have personality problems during that time. Insofar as the men are concerned, they kept away from me as far as possible, perhaps fearing that what I had was catching. And there were some customers who couldn't accept the idea of a male manicurist, even if he was girly. But for the most part I experienced no problems that I couldn't handle. After making idle conversation with others in the family room, and not being interested in watching football on TV with the men, Barbara called out from the kitchen, "Cissy, come help us girls in the kitchen." And I happily left the chatting group to find my place helping prepare and serve the Thanksgiving dinner. We ate about 2 PM and it took until 4:30PM for all the dishes, pots and leftovers to be put away. We said our goodbyes as we had a long distance to travel back to our house, and we would be driving at night so it would be a slower trip, t I thought it was a lovely day. Barbara said she thought so too. I realized that I have become feminized. I know that my name is now Cissy. I have graduated from the manicuring part of the beauty school, took the State exam and got my license to give manicures. At the beginning some of the women customers preferred to have a female give them their manicure but most of the clientele knew me by now and I was kept reasonably busy on Saturdays and Sundays handling overflow and walk- ins. When I did a clients' nails the first time, she was pleasantly surprised that I was able to engage her in conversation to her liking, and did not hesitate to book me again. I found that when I was giving a manicure my hair was now falling into my eyes, and I constantly was pushing the hair back. To eliminate this problem, I pulled my hair back and tied it with a scrunchy. I started to make some serious money and some of my clients were quite generous with their tips. With the extra money I began to shop and buy clothes more frequently, and my wardrobe became larger and larger. At home and especially in the evening I wear my silky caftan and a pair of mules with a 1 1/2" heel. It feels so comfortable. I know what I am becoming and I am not fighting it, but accepting each change if not with eagerness, then without objection. I keep asking Barbara if she likes her sissy, and she always replies, "Don't be silly. You are my sissy" It is now in December and school is out for the Christmas holidays. So I worked at the salon full time. This one of the busiest times of the year, and we even stopped taking our days off. Whatever free time we had we spent together. My ears have been pierced, my eyebrows tweezed, and my body depilated with hot wax. I have a lovely collection of earrings, mostly gifts from Barbara, who seems to be buying something feminine for me all of the time. Everyone knows me as Cissy, and I don't even think they make the connection to my being a sissy. I am using makeup daily, but am very careful as to how I apply it, so that my face looks nice, it doesn't shout "Makeup". At school I am now just one of the girls. I have taken to wearing blouses with short sleeves. I have been shaving my entire body for months now, so I have no problem with hairy arms. I no longer wear men's shoes, even loafers. Actually, it has been months since I have worn any male clothes. Barbara is still offering nightly sex for me, but there are times when I am so tired that I decline it for that day. It has now been months that the CB3000 has been taken off and put away, as I no longer need it. I am no longer aroused by the prospect of wearing women's clothes. It just feels so natural and it no longer stimulates me sexually. The panties hold my penis flat and no bulge shows through my slacks. The penis against my stomach even makes it look like a small but normal female tummy bulge. I soon found out that having sex nightly was more than my body could handle, and I voluntarily reduced it to twice a week, some weeks less. It was Christmas day. The shop is closed. The tree is up and there are many presents for each other under the tree. After breakfast we opened our presents and I received so many lovely things from my wife and others. Barbara presented me with a new wedding band and engagement ring. The band was white gold completely encircled with diamonds, and the engagement ring was a solitaire. It was only 1/2 carat but of fine quality so that it had fire when exposed to the light. She took my left hand and removed the gold band I wore since the day we were married and placed the band and solitaire in its place. I love it. I really love it. We hugged and kissed. "But the cost? ?, I stammered. "You have never interfered in my business, but I can tell you that it is doing extremely well and I am making more money than I thought I ever would. So, don't worry about expenses, dear. We can afford it." We were cleaning up the mess of paper, boxes, and ribbons from opening the gifts when the doorbell rang. We hardly ever get any company and I wondered who it was. I got up and opened the front door, and there is the man I met at the bar many months ago, but have not seen since, with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a gift box in the other. I was so surprised I could not think of his name, I stuttered and said, "uh, uh, uh" and he, sensing my plight said, "I'm James. Jim." I invited him in, and Barbara who by this time was at the door alongside of me, put out her hand and said, "Hi, Jim. Come on in." "How did you find me?" I asked. "I asked some of the girls and found the one who was driving you back and forth and she gave me your address", he said. Barbara offered Jim a drink and he said he would prefer some coffee, and Barbara went to the kitchen to fetch it. He gave me the flowers. and I went to find a vase to put them in. When I returned he handed me the package saying, ?I hope you like what I got you." I opened the box and took out a beautiful, full length, black nylon nightgown. He said, ?I would like to see you in it someday." I felt my face redden and put the gown carefully back in the box, after thanking him for his beautiful present. I promised him that I would wear it, but made no promises that would include him. Barbara returned from the kitchen with the coffee and we all sat down. He told me that he missed seeing me from that first meeting, and hoped that we could get together again. he also told me how much prettier I looked now than even before. I told him that it is amazing what makeup will do. With Barbara present, he told me that he would like to see me again, to take me out to dinner. A date. I looked over at Barbara to get her reaction, and she said, "I don't know why that cannot be arranged. In fact I think a date would be good for Cissy." Jim was not aware that my name was now Cissy, and I think he thought Barbara was referring to me as a sissy because of the strange look on his face. Barbara saw it too, and said, "No, you don't understand. Her name is Cissy, spelled with a 'c'. It's now her legal name you know." Jim nodded his head with a new understanding. I was taken by surprise as this is the first time Barbara referred to me in the feminine tense. I was surprised but not offended. Jim then said, ?When do you think you could go out with me?" Barbara answered even though the question was not addressed to her. "Why not next week. New Year's Eve?" Jim said that was fine. That he would come by to pick me up at 8 o'clock on New Year's eve. Barbara asked if she could speak with him privately, and they left the room and went to the kitchen where I could not overhear their conversation. They returned but a few minutes later and Jim was all smiles. He told me that he would be at my door at 8PM on New Year's eve to take me out. After he left, Barbara said to me, "We have to go shopping to get you a nice dress and shoes, so that you look really nice." I was shocked at her eagerness to have me go out on a date with a man, but answered, "Yes, lets". I then asked Barbara what the kitchen conversation was about. "I have to protect you. I told him that there would be no date if he didn't agree to two conditions. One, I want him to bring a lab report, not over three days old, that shows him free from any STD's or AIDs. Then he was to wear a chastity belt, because on your first date it will be a chaste one. You will wear yours as well. She made this statement in a manner that did not call for a discussion, so I just nodded my head in agreement. The next day, being a Monday, and particularly the day after Christmas, there would be little business at the shop and so we went shopping. I found a lovely black shift that came down to mid-knee, with a square neckline and spaghetti straps. I had to find a bra that did not require shoulder straps, and it took going into a few stores before I found the one that would fit me. I also bought a cute pair of pumps with a three inch stiletto heel. I realized that I