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It was a weekend I had looked forward to for some time. My wife and her two teenage daughters from her previous marriage would be on a trip to Chicago for a 3-day holiday, leaving me alone in the house. Not that I wouldn't miss them, but it gave me a chance to indulge my own fantasy while they were shopping and going to a concert. I have cross-dressed since I was a teen, but with my marriage I put that behind me, at least that's what I told my wife, Lillian. Before we married, I told her of my addiction to wearing women's clothes. I was not gay, so I was not trying to attract a man. Also, I had a realistic appraisal of my appearance as a woman; I was passable to a degree, but did not feel the need to go out dressed femininely. It was more the feeling and change of identity that took over me when I was dressed as a woman. The feeling wasn't just sexual, but it was also a relaxing, natural calmness that came over me, as if I were expressing a repressed part of me. I think part of the feeling related to a 'permission' to be docile, almost submissive, which was a distinct change from how I act as a male. After describing it to her, she nodded her head, but told me she couldn't live with seeing me that way. She said it was your choice, marry her or continue to cross- dress. It did not take much thought. Lillian was a very pretty woman. At 5'9" she was taller than me with a quiet elegance about her. Even though she kept her brunette hair short and simply styled and wore only minimal makeup she radiated an inner beauty. Her figure matched that projection, being well proportioned with long legs. She seemed beautiful no matter how she dressed and preferred a simple style that relied on classic designs. Her girls were a bit opposite, which I guess is not uncommon. They both like fashion, wearing bright colors, and the latest trends. I thought Lillian allowed them a bit too much makeup and too much freedom in clothes styles, but she said that was what teen years were for. I tended toward conservative clothes, generally wearing a suit or at least a tie to work. I was lean, short for a man at 5'8" with blonde hair, hazel eyes, and fair skin. I had never hit the gym much, since I was not athletic, but did enjoying swimming and running. I guess I thought of my appearance as masculine but liked the idea that I was slim without well- defined muscles that allowed me to see myself as feminine if I desired. So, we married about 5 years ago and I have generally stuck to my decision to stop dressing. But I do have a hidden cache of women's clothes and about once or twice a year I privately indulge that side of me. When I can do it at home, it is really most rewarding, because I can live my normal routine just dressed as a woman. I do expand my activities of course, the most obvious and I have to admit unusual for me, is that I clean the house, do laundry, and other household chores I wouldn't normally do. For some reason, they become tolerable when I am in skirts, heels, and make-up. So this weekend, I started out as always, getting my clothes from their hiding place, hanging them in my closet or putting them in the dresser as if they always stayed there. I spent the first day just getting acclimated to being a woman again, practicing make-up application, polishing my nails, and getting a feminine mindset. Even though I wanted to, I never shaved my legs or body, as that would be too noticeable after my weekend fling. I would then spend most of Saturday doing my housework. On Saturday after some coffee and a light breakfast, I started a load of laundry, cleaned the kitchen counters, dusted and vacuumed the downstairs thoroughly. Later I would clean the downstairs bathroom and mop the tile floors, but first the rest of the carpets needed to be done. I had just moved upstairs and was vacuuming the hall. The loud noise of the vacuum basically nullifying any other sounds, but suddenly I heard a scream. Looking up I almost fainted, as I saw the older daughter, Ashleigh standing there. Her scream was quickly followed by a second one, as the younger daughter Stacy joined her. They stood there in shock, hands over their mouths, not quite believing what they saw. I was dressed as I usually did when I cleaned. I had on a sheer white long-sleeve blouse, short black skirt, and black high heel pumps. My face was fully made up, nails painted a glittering red, and a blonde bob wig on my head. A white lace bra filled with forms gave me a full bust, and a long-leg panty girdle, hipster panties, and white opaque tights helped my feminine appearance. A white half apron and a matching hair band gave me a touch of a maid's appearance. The girls stood there taking in my feminized form, and I didn't know what to do. As we stood there, I switched off the vacuum and tried to think of an explanation. That's when I heard my wife. "What the hell? Oh my god, what are you up to? I can't believe this. I thought this was over." I turned and saw her stomping up the front stairs, her face as mad as I have ever seen it. Lillian was generally under control, but she did have a temper when things went wrong or someone did something stupid. She was glaring at me as if I had committed adultery. I was totally panicked, and thoroughly embarrassed by the girls seeing me like this. This couldn't be happening. I was always so careful to keep my secret hidden. Why were they back so soon? They weren't supposed to be back till late Sunday. That thought slipped right from my head to my tongue. "What happened? Why are you not in Chicago?" "Well, the concert was cancelled, our hotel room was horrible, so we decided it wasn't worth it and came home early. The bigger question is why are you dressed like this? What do you think you are doing?" Glancing at her daughters, who by now were beginning to smirk at my predicament, I tried to explain. "Lillian, I just feel like dressing sometimes. It makes me feel good and I might as well be productive, so I was cleaning the house so it would be nice when you returned. I'm sorry, I let you down. I'll go change." "Change, it's too late for that. You made your choice, so you will have to live with it. My daughters now know about your perverted desires and you can't change that. Since you wanted to be the woman of the house, or maybe the maid the way you are dressed, you can just go ahead and finish your work. What all had you planned to do?" "Just the usual cleaning, I vacuum, dust, mop, change the bed linens, clean the bathrooms, and do the laundry. I had just started, but I can do it all if you want. But I would rather take off this stuff first." "Well, I don't want you to take anything off. It will be a good lesson for you to have to do your new chores dressed like the maid. I think it might be a permanent position from now on. How about it girls? Would you rather do your chores as normal or have them done by our new maid?" Ashleigh and Stacy looked at each other, back at their mom, and then grinned at me. Finally starting to giggle they answered in unison that they'd prefer the maid do them. I had always insisted that they do chores around the house, and like most teenagers they hated it. "I agree, so just bring in your stuff from the car. Sort through your clothes and put the dirty ones in the laundry for the maid. No point in us hanging around here, we can at least go out to shop and have a nice dinner tonight. As for you, I expect you to do a thorough job of cleaning, no half ass work. Is that all your slut clothes or do you have more?" "I have some more stuff in our bedroom, but just a couple of outfits and some lingerie." "Well move it out. You can put it in the guest room, because you won't be sleeping in MY bedroom for a while. Is that clear? And another thing, as you don't seem to be my husband Bill, did you pick a new name for this sissy maid you've become?" Blushing, I lowered my gaze and replied softly. "Millie." "Well then, Millie, finish you chores. When I return we will need to have a long talk about this, understand?" "Yes dear." "Dear? I don't think so. A maid does not call her superior dear, or honey, or any such term. Until I tell you otherwise, you are to refer to me as Ms. Baxter and address the girls, as Miss Ashleigh and Miss Stacy." "Yes, Ms. Baxter." With that the girls brought their luggage in from the car and soon they were gone out again. I resumed cleaning, going over and over in my head how stupid I was. How weak I was for giving in to my cross-dressing temptations. How I had likely ruined my marriage and my life. It had not gone unnoticed by me that Lillian had referred to herself using her maiden name. I assumed that this long talk would include a notice that we would be getting a divorce. I also assumed my stay in the guest room would be brief. Relocating my girl clothes into the guest room was my first task, but I worked all day, taking only a brief break for a light dinner. I finished all the chores I had planned to do, but Lillian and the girls had not returned. Not knowing what else to do, I started working on tasks that I had seen her do in the past, but were not part of the normal weekly clean up. That included vacuuming the drapes and blinds, cleaning the inside of the refrigerator and polishing our silverware. I was sitting at the dining room table working on the silverware when they returned. The girls went straight to their rooms, but Lillian sought me out. "Well I see you can at least be productive Millie. That is a nice change from the way that lazy Bill was around the house. I'm glad you took the initiative to keep working since we decided to see a movie after dinner. We also talked about this and despite how mad I am, we're going to give you a choice. I was ready to kick you out, but Ashleigh and Stacy thought it might be better to make you an offer first. So here's your choices, do as we say or pack your things tomorrow and leave. If you decide to stay, you will remain as a maid for the time being. You'll be responsible for all the cleaning, cooking, and anything domestic associated with running my house. You will not make any more decisions about it however. I will handle all the monetary issues, like spending, bill paying, saving etc. At most you will get an allowance for your needs. You'll have a list of daily and weekly chores to complete. To emphasize your new role, you will be dressed properly of course. That means an outfit similar to what you have on now. The girls were both impressed at how feminine you looked, although you need a lot of help. That means you will keep yourself like a woman. Things like shaving properly, letting your nails and hair grow a bit, and using lotions and cr?mes to make your skin softer, will all be mandatory. Ashleigh has volunteered to help you with your makeup skills and Stacy will show you how to style your hair, once it grows out. They will both show you how to sew and knit. I'll be responsible for your deportment training to be sure you move, walk, talk, and act as a proper female maid should. If you agree to this, then I expect you to be dressed properly tomorrow when I wake up. That means your body shaved, wearing only woman's clothes. Don't do your make-up, as I expect you to attend church with us tomorrow. You've avoided that in the past, but that will change now. Maybe a chance to confess your sins will do you good. It will reinforce the error of your ways, if you attend wearing woman's underwear beneath your suit. I think I detected a girdle under your skirt earlier. You will need one tomorrow as well as a bra. Just avoid a padded one unless you are ready to let everyone know your preferences." With that, she turned and went up the stairs to her bedroom. I was floored by her offer. It was not something I had even considered as an outcome of my exposure. I tossed it around in my head as I finished the polishing and then went to my new room. I loved my wife and at this point in life did not want to be single again. Also, I knew that when she divorced her first husband, she extracted a very nice settlement in the proceedings. He still saw his daughters, but it was obvious that his life style had taken a big hit from the divorce. Thinking about it, I reasoned that this would be a temporary thing, a punishment phase so to speak. Lillian did have a bit of a mean streak in her and I knew the girls resented some of the demands I placed on them. So I could see where they would all like a bit of retribution from me. I felt like I certainly warranted punishment, since I had lied and snuck around Lillian's back to cross-dress. But I also realized that it would likely just be something for me to endure and once they felt they had punished me enough, I would be allowed back as the man of the family. I decided that a few weeks or even months of humiliation and contrition would be a fair price for my weakness and deception. Making my decision, I ran a hot bath in the attached bathroom, and after a soaking began the shaving process. It took longer than I expected and the process highlighted the decision I made but when I went to bed that night I was prepared to take my punishment. I was up early and dressed as Lillian required, deciding a beige long-leg body briefer, panties and hose would be easiest. I slipped on a loose dress over the outfit and made coffee with plates of fruit and bagels for everyone to snack on before church. The ladies were soon awake and began their dressing. Lillian called me to the bedroom, where she had laid out a suit, shirt and tie. She smirked as I removed the dress and commented that I looked more appropriate with my hairless body. Luckily, none of my underwear was visible after I was dressed but the entire trip to church and eating lunch at a nearby restaurant was nerve racking for me. I had to keep reassuring myself that no one could tell that I was wearing women's underwear. Lillian insisted I enter church and sit by myself, although she let me eat with them at the restaurant. Back at home, I changed back into a light green shirt dress with matching green high heel sandals. Ashleigh eagerly instructed me on applying my makeup and Stacy similarly enjoyed showing me how to take a curling iron to my hair. Although I had kept it longer than most guys, I really didn't think it could be styled femininely. But Stacy knew her stuff and I soon had a cute little curly hair do. I knew Ashleigh loved cosmetics and she showed me some tricks I had never thought about. Of course, both had a few stinging comments about my transition from head of household to domestic staff, but I didn't sense any hatred. They both seemed to relish the opportunity to shed their chores and poke fun at the former chief. Once I was completely attired, Lillian laid out some more chores for me, most of which I had never realized were needed. It seemed she did far more housework while I was at work than I ever knew. Now I would become familiar with them all. She also announced that I was to call work on Monday and tell them I would not be in that week. Lillian wanted to be sure she had time to fully implement my transition before I left the house again. The next week was far more stressful than I could ever have imagined. Both the physical work of cleaning and the mental torture that Lillian and the girls dispensed made me almost regret my choice. Lillian had inventoried my collection of women's wear and declared it insufficient. For one thing, she wanted me to wear some sort of girdle every day, so I need more of those. Secondly, I lacked a proper uniform so she corrected that need. Finally, she declared that she was not happy that I had worn men's clothes last week to church. I had forfeited the right to that option because of desire to be her maid. I was not to be allowed that privilege any time soon, even for my return to work. So she purchased a collection of women's slacks, blazers, blouses, and flat heel shoes for me to wear outside the house. Although nominally these were a men's wear style of women's clothes, they still had many feminine touches, for example the pants lacked rear pockets or belt loops, the blazers and blouses buttoned opposite from men's clothes, and the fabrics and colors were a bit more flamboyant than what I normally wore. Not to mention, that Lillian expected me to carry a small purse for my wallet, keys, etc. I attempted to protest, but Lillian said if I didn't want to follow her requirements then the deal was off and I should leave. She said I was lucky to even be allowed back in pants. My rebellion was short lived as I was soon attired in her requisite maid uniform. It was really just a plain button front dress, each a solid color of gray, tan, or black. The sleeves, hem, pockets and neckline were all trimmed in a white eyelet with a matching white half apron and hair band. The look was something you might see at a moderately pricey hotel. Of course she paired this with high heel pumps; a look even a nicer hotel would not require their staff to wear. I also noticed the girdles were a tighter than my old ones. Lillian admitted getting them one size smaller as an encouragement for me to lose some weight. The girls took great pleasure in having me practice makeup and hair styling each evening after dinner. They had been given full rein in those areas and bought an array of cosmetics, utensils, and styling products for me to use. Stacy insisted I roll my hair every night, and Ashleigh put me in a complete beauty regime for my skin, nails, and hair. I never realized what a chore it was to achieve the beauty that women aspire to. All of this was nothing compared to the torture on Sunday morning. I was up early to prepare the light breakfast, and then showered, being sure to shave everywhere closely. Lillian had mandated that I wear a beige soft cup bra and matching panty girdle with dark hose and an outfit consisting of brown check blazer, matching pants, and a beige blouse. Although the lingerie was trimmed in lace, and my outfit was a bit feminine, what worried me most was how the girls did my makeup and hair. Stacy insisted that I style it like I had been doing all week, and even Ashleigh required some mascara, eye shadow, light foundation, blush, and a lip gloss with a hint of color. Carrying my purse, I looked far too feminine for my liking. Lillian had me sit with them, and the girls were grinning the whole time. I could tell they were enjoying my embarrassment and discomfort. Once the service was over, the assistant pastor greeted everyone at the door as they left. He recognized Lillian and the girls and as they exchanged greetings, she spoke up. "Pastor James let me introduce you to a new member of our household. This is Millicent. She is our new housekeeper and will be coming with us to church from now on. Millie, as we call her, is new to the area and we want her to become comfortable. We expect that she might want to officially join the church at some point, so please send me a membership form and we'll bring it back next week." The pastor was pleased at this and hurriedly introduced himself to me. The whole time I was flabbergasted by this turn of events and left speechless. The girls stood by grinning like Cheshire cats. Once we got in the car, Lillian explained in no uncertain terms that my position would have to look plausible to others, as she wasn't going to have me dance between male and female appearances while at home. Only at work would I be allowed a modicum of masculinity. This was highlighted for me when she sent me into our local grocery after lunch to pick up a few items for supper. I was beginning to doubt my choice and saw that perhaps it was going to be a longer period with less anonymity than I had bargained for. But for now I would continue. The stress escalated with my return to work. Even though my outfits were more masculine than my church outfit, and I was allowed to go without makeup or a curly hairdo, I still felt exposed. The simple act of carrying a purse was radically different than the image I projected before. Plus from the looks I got from my female co-workers, it seemed that they were aware that my jackets and pants were a female design rather than male. Both the women in my immediate work group, Beth and Jeanette, made a point to compliment me on my attire, saying I showed more flare in a week than I normally displayed in a year. They asked if Lillian had help me select the outfits and when I confirmed their suspicions, they left satisfied. Apparently if my wife made these choices, then they felt it was a definite improvement. At home, my time as maid was becoming routine although no easier. The girls were driving me crazy with their demands that I practice my feminine skills. Ashleigh even plucked my brows a bit and insisted I apply a lash extension solution. When I protested to Lillian she just laughed and said if the girls think it is a good idea, then so does she. The only return to masculinity in that first few weeks was when Lillian requested my presence in her bedroom in the evening. There I spent time kneeling between her spread legs, kissing, licking, and otherwise worshiping her pussy. I had never done much orally before, limiting it to foreplay. But now, she said that would be our only sexual contact for a while and insisted I develop my skills to please her. Afterwards, she would let me masturbate for her, a pleasure made a bit more humiliating by having to slide my panties down so she could fondle my ass. She made a point of calling me her little lesbian and suggesting that perhaps she should get a dildo for our pleasure. My humiliation increased at the end of the week, when Lillian laid out my church outfit. This time it was the coral blazer and white lace blouse paired with a flowery skirt and beige pumps. I immediately protested, but she ignored my complaints pointing out that the pastor already assumed I was a woman. With the girls help and my breast forms, I looked very feminine that morning. The pastor took time to talk with me extensively as we left after the service and gave me a membership form. Of course Lillian took advantage of this, by suggesting to him that perhaps I would want to be a member of the Ladies of the Church group that worked on service projects. He took immediate interest in that possibility, telling me that they would love another member as they always had more work than workers. In the car later, Lillian downplayed my dissatisfaction by saying that would be a good penance for my sins. The following week at work, I became further pushed toward complete femininity. Lillian had me use small breast pads in a small cup bra, so that I had an A-cup type bust line. She also prodded me into wearing some of the more feminine blazers, like the coral one, and a pair of suede short boots with an inch-high heel. Of course, I had to use the matching handbag. Ashleigh pushed me further too, plucking my brows a bit more, which required using an eyebrow pencil to define the shape as well as wearing a light lip gloss and clear nail polish. Stacy said it was time I let everyone see my real hairstyle, so I started rolling my hair every night, and combing out the loose curls in the morning setting those in place with hair spray. Of course Beth and Jeanette noticed the changes right away, complimenting me on my willingness to try new colors and styles. They began asking me to eat lunch with them. In the past, I had eaten alone or occasionally with the other male group leaders, but since my exposure and change in appearance, I had pretty much stayed in my office. To be relegated to eating with the administrative assistants was a bit of a step down, but I couldn't refuse their offer without perhaps insulting them with a resulting flood of gossip passed onto the other group leaders. So far, I had gotten only a few off-hand comments about my appearance from them, as they were usually focused on their work or making leering comments about the young women at the office. Settling into a routine at work, home, and church over the next month, I began to feel a little more comfortable but also began to worry about how long I would have to endure this punishment. Just as I felt like my life was stabilizing, events tumbled me back into a panic. It began at church. Lillian again told the pastor that I wanted to help with the ladies group, and this time he offered to come by to pick me up for the Wednesday evening meeting. The girls made sure I was properly attired in a sleeveless flowery print dress and white high-heel sandals. Of course, I was wearing my standard girdle, bra and forms, and sheer pantyhose underneath. The ride to the meeting was nerve racking for me, as the pastor continued to probe my background and my church experiences as a 'young girl'. At the meeting, the women were very friendly and between prayer and a short bible study, we worked on packets of everyday items to give to poor families. The work did make me feel better, as I appreciated my financial status in life and the opportunity to help others. So I agreed to come back as a regular member. One lady in particular seemed to really be friendly and she offered to give me a ride each week and help me find a particular role in the group. On my ride home, she told me that it impressed her that a 'domestic worker' would be so concerned about other less fortunate families and that she had been thinking about an effort to help elderly and shut-ins. She had been thinking about starting an effort to go to them and volunteer to clean and organize their houses. It would be a part of the church's outreach to those that can't come to services and would also coordinate with their hot meal program. She was sure that my 'skills' would be so valuable to this effort; given my vulnerable position it was hard to say no. So now, I had an additional commitment as a woman, which made me worry a bit, because I had recognized two of the ladies as being from our neighborhood. I just hoped my radical appearance change was sufficient to protect my identity. The next change was more dramatic. It began innocently enough at work. I was eating lunch with Jeanette and Beth, and after a short conversation about one of the reality-type television shows the previous evening, the topic turned to fashion. Both women commented on a scene in the show where one character made a big fuss about wearing a bra and how she hated it. Beth laughed and said a good fitting bra was essential and how could any woman continue to wear an uncomfortable one. Jeanette agreed, commenting that with a good fitting one you could almost forget you had it on. I was immediately nervous about where this conversation was going, as I was wearing a t-back lace, front-close bra with padded A-cups. When Lillian had insisted I start wearing them to work, my anxiety had exploded. So, I just remained silently as the women continued their conversation. They both had stories about a favorite bra, or when a style they liked was discontinued, and even how they hated getting a bra fitting, even though they knew it was a good idea. Finally, there was a break in the conversation, and just as I hoped it was over Jeanette turned toward me. "How about you honey? Did you get a fitting first or just try some on until you found one that felt good?" Beth smiled broadly and tried to suppress a little snicker. "Or did Lillian choose those for you as well? Whatever, you certainly have a range of styles and colors." I practically choked on my salad and I could feel the blood drain from my face. This was my worst nightmare. So far, I had convinced myself that although my appearance had changed radically, that the changes were at least borderline gender neutral at work. A bra was anything but neutral, as no man had a need to wear one normally. I swallowed a second, and tried to think of a reply that would provide a reasonable cover, but nothing came to mind. So I answered honestly. "I didn't think you had noticed; I mean it's not like they are really exposed, or at least I thought so." "Oh sweetie, women notice such things. A little indent pattern where the straps cross your shoulders or the band comes across the back, and even though you aren't large, you are sporting a bit more up top than before you started your fashion revisions. Plus, most women's blouses are more transparent than men's shirts, so even if you thought they were hidden, we've seen the pretty lace more than a few times lately." "I guess I didn't realize that before. Well, I guess the truth is a little of both, then. I picked a few styles and so did Lillian, although I've never had a formal fitting. It's a complicated story I'd rather not go into right now." "Honey, we don't care why you started changing what you wear. To be honest ourselves, we didn't particularly like you before you started this transition or whatever it is. You were aloof and a bit of a prick, pardon my French. But since you started dressing more femininely, you've become nicer, more helpful, and actually fun to be with. You seem really interested in what we say, and we've gotten more compliments or thanks in a few weeks than you've given us in years previously. We both like the new you but decided we needed to let you know how much we had observed about you. It was clear to both of us that you were dressing completely as a woman. You've not worn a single piece of men's clothes in a while and items like pantyhose, bras, and even the light makeup are something no real man wears. So feel free to express your new styles without worry about how we will react. The only thing I want to know now is that Bill does not really fit your look anymore. Are you still using that name or have you changed to something more appropriate?" I swallowed again, this had gotten more intimate than I had ever expected. The blood that had left my face had surged back in and now it was a bright red. I felt like I was going to cry and couldn't even look at them, but just softly answered. "Lillian and the girls call me Millie now; short for Millicent. But I haven't really told anyone else or let more of my story out." At that point, both women reached over and hugged me. Their openness surprised me a bit and when they let me go, Jeanette was beaming. "Okay, Millie it will be from now on, but only when it is just us girls. We won't do anything to push you faster than you want to go, or to embarrass you. We will however, insist you join us in our special shopping trips we set up at lunch sometimes. For example, Macy's is having its fall shoe sale on Friday; best prices before the holidays. We normally come in to work a half-hour early and leave a half-hour later for these excursions; that way we can spend a full 2 hours shopping over lunch. I don't know about you, but shoes are a weakness for me and getting a new pair on sale is almost as good as sex." They both laughed and I couldn't help but join in. Even though I had now crossed a barrier that had never expected to do, I felt really good about my two new friends. Truth be told, I hadn't connected with the other men at work. All they wanted to talk about was golf, or hunting, or how they got a nice look at so-and-so's tits earlier when she bent over to give them the latest budget sheets. I could relate to my new girlfriends and was actually a bit excited about shoe shopping. I didn't admit it to them, but I loved shoes too. But even though it felt good to connect with women in this way, the idea that my dressing was so obvious was also nerve racking. If they had noticed such details, maybe my boss and the other guys had too. Plus if Lillian knew that other women had found out the extent of my dressing, what steps would she take next? It had taken a lot of pleading to keep my bra padding at an A-cup; she would have rather me display the full C-cup that I wore at home and at church. If I agreed to that, then skirts, dresses and high heels would surely follow. So going home that evening I had a mixed set of emotions from my work experiences. However, the shock at work was nothing compared to the tidal waves that Lillian unleashed on me that night. As always, I changed immediately into my maid uniform with full breast forms, increased my makeup, and touched up my hair. I served supper as usual and had just finished cleaning up the table, when Lillian told me it was time for a talk. After my earlier experiences at work I was very anxious, and it turns out, with good reason. We went into the den, where she sat behind the desk. The desk I had used for my at home job needs, but now had been transferred to her. I stood in front of her, quite ill at ease. "Millie, we need to talk about the choice you made. Despite all the good deeds you have done over the past month, I am still quite mad about how you broke the promise you made to me and how you lied about it. If I had known you weren't going to be truthful, then I doubt seriously if I would have agreed to marry you. I'm sure you noticed that I reverted to using my maiden name again, and had more or less made my mind up to divorce you and end this situation. But Stacy and Ashleigh have both pleaded your case for you. They told me they feel closer to you now than they ever did when acted as a step-dad. They mentioned how nice you've been to them, how you readily accept the hair and makeup changes they have made on you, and even how you seem more comfortable dressed as Millie. They've enjoyed the time they've spent with you, teaching you to sew and knit. That's a bond you never had with them before. Of course, I also realize that they love how they no longer have any household chores. It hasn't escaped my notice that they now require you to do much more work for them, such as ironing, shoe polishing, and running errands. So, I understand they have a vested interest in keeping you on as our maid. But again, I could easily replace those demands by hiring a real woman as a housekeeper. If I am honest, it does please me that I no longer have any household chores, particularly since you were so lacking before in that department. Seeing you on your knees scrubbing out the tub after I have taken a long bath does satisfy somewhat my urge for retribution. Further your wholehearted willingness to be a part of my church and its charitable activity, does argue for forgiveness and redemption. Millie seems to have a future in our church, while Bill wouldn't waste his time there. Therefore, I have looked at our marriage and determined if you agree to certain requirements and changes then we can remain a couple. I want to lay out these and give you time to think about them, so pay attention. First, I want to make the name change official and permanent. The girls kept their fathers last name, but I am going to go back to using Baxter. If you remain married to me, then you will change your last name to Baxter as well; I want it clear that I am the head of household now and that in our relationship, you are the supporting partner. As an added sign of your submissiveness to my lead, you will also change your first name from William to Millicent. If you are no longer acting as a man, then you should embrace a female title more appropriate to your role. Second, as head of the house I want full control of our finances and assets. We will revise our will and accounts so that I am the primary owner and you are a secondary beneficiary or junior owner, such that you cannot spend, remove, or transfer funds or assets without my approval. I will set up an allowance for you each week sufficient enough to cover normal household operating expenses and a few frivolous personal items, like makeup or clothes. Third, I want to reclaim the original purpose of our guest room. My sister and her husband want to come for a visit next month, and they will need that space. I had briefly considered letting you return to my bed, but I have grown quite use to having it all to myself. So earlier today, I had a contractor come by and give me an estimate on modifying our basement. We are going to complete the bathroom that was only plumbed in when we bought the house, so there is a complete facility with shower capabilities. He is also erecting an interior wall to section off part of the space to make a bedroom. These will be the new maid quarters and will be yours if you remain. Of course, that means you will be exposed to my family and friends, as my maid as well as my submissive spouse. The fourth requirement is that you accept full time conversion to a feminine persona. You will dispose of your male clothes and fully embrace appearing as a woman. This means full makeup, hair styling, and women's clothes at all times, which will include settling your flexible bust size to one standard one. To support these requirements, I expect you to make permanent changes ranging from minor things like piercing your ears and laser hair removal to major adjustments, in particular breast implants, which signal your complete agreement to this lifestyle change. I struggled at first with the idea of insisting on this change as I expected resistance from you regarding your work. Fortunately, that has already been taken care of. I accidentally ran into your boss, Mr. Stevens the other night. During our brief conversation, he mentioned all your 'unusual wardrobe choices'. I just decided to tell him, that you were experiencing 'gender confusion issues' and that I expected that you would be transitioning, at least in appearance, to a feminine role. I told him it wasn't decided quite yet, but if you showed up in a dress that he would at least know the situation. He seemed shocked, but agreed that given your excellent work performance and general limited contact with the public, that he saw no problem with you dressing or assuming the role of a woman at your job. He also mentioned off-hand that you had taken to socializing with the women secretaries. So, I took the liberty of following up with one of them. Beth and I had a lovely conversation. She told me she had been shocked by the extent of your conversion into female clothing. Both her and your friend Jeanette noticed how you only wore women's clothes, including lingerie and hose. Once she understood that you felt you were more woman than man, she eagerly volunteered to help you adjust. Turns out, they like the feminine you more than the posturing masculine Bill. So, I think your presence at work as Millie won't be a problem. That brings me to my last requirement. When I ran into Mr. Stevens I was on a date with Brad Ashton. When I was dating you, Brad was also pursuing me. He has a certain charm about him, although his attraction for me was more his sexual prowess. He always gave me wonderful orgasms when we had sex; he is rare combination of size and skill in that department. But I knew that ability would also make him poor husband material. Brad would never settle for one woman; even now he likes to play the field and has no qualms about relationships with married women, obviously. A trait that now I find very beneficial. I decided you were much more stable and with my daughters to worry about, your sweet somewhat submissive demeanor and solid character made you a better choice, even if you were less than spectacular in bed. Looking back at it, I still think I made the right choice. But now, I intend to open myself up to Brad's special abilities. I still want to retain your service as my sweet lesbian lover, but I miss having a real man in bed, so I'll use Brad for that. So if you agree to remain my spouse, it will be with the understanding that I will occasionally have a sexual fling with other men, masculine men, who will give me what you are unable to. But you will have my assurance that I won't hide these from you, nor will I seek to replace you. I will be honest and truthful with you at all times. Your place in my home, as my maid, supportive spouse, and submissive lesbian lover will be safe. Now I want you to take some time to think about this decision. It is not something that you can easily change once it is made. But this decision will also set the pattern for how our new marriage will work. I will give you my preferences or really my orders. I don't expect an answer from you or alternative suggestions. As I said, I am now the head of the house and I just expect you to do as I tell you. So, if you agree to your new life, you needn't say anything but show me you mean it. That means Friday morning; you will wear that nice yellow suit outfit we bought last weekend; the one with the pleated skirt, sheer white blouse trimmed in yellow flowers, and matching yellow blazer, with contrasting white trim. Of course that means you will wear the lemon yellow high heel sandals, sheer hose, and the Bali lace 38-C bra and shaper underneath. You'll need to be fully made up, like you are around the house, and leave your hair more curly and feminine than you have been wearing at work. I'd recommend you have Ashleigh do your nails so they sparkle in a nice color too. Since you planned on going out shoe shopping with your gal pals, I'll give you an extra allowance for the week. It should be a good way to start filling out your wardrobe for your fulltime exposure. At the end of your day, I'll need you to meet me at Janet Wilson's office to sign the legal and financial papers to cover that part of our agreement. You can go home from there, but I plan on meeting Brad for a celebratory dinner and drinks. Stacy and Ashleigh already have plans to go to their high school football game and spend the night with some of their girlfriends. That will give you time to prepare my bedroom. I want satin sheets on the bed, lots of fragrant candles placed everywhere, and some champagne on ice. Brad and I will return to finalize my new position as the head of the household. I am dying to feel his big cock again. It will also make him feel better if he sees that you know about him and are no longer a masculine rival. But don't worry, after he leaves I still want you to kneel between my legs and give me some of your gently lesbian kisses. So you will be dressed in a sexy little baby doll, maybe with some heels and lace-top stockings. I think it is important that you end this big day in an all-girl way. But remember this is your choice. Think about it; weigh the pros and cons; then decide, after all it is your choice."