BOGO
- 4 years ago
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BoGo free porn video
BoGo
Crossdresser's wife tells the story of her efforts to buy clothing for her
herself and her husband entirely through "buy one, get one" promotions.
Husband does not cooperate, and suffers severe consequences.
My husband told me about his crossdressing early on in our relationship.
I was confused at first, but I eventually came to terms with it. His
desire simply was a part of him, and I loved him, "quirk" or not. He only
liked dressing up as a part of lovemaking, so no one knew about his
crossdressing. That was good, because it meant that I didn't have to deal
with the possible negative reactions I might face as a result of not-so-
undestanding neighbors or friends.
To be honest, though, I didn't really gain that much from the arrangement.
My husband clearly enjoyed the fantasy of dressing up, and I went along
with it, fully participating in his feminization. But I wasn't attracted
to a feminine guy. I guess you could say I tolerated his crossdressing; I
wasn't turned on by it.
I found my pleasure in little games around his crossdressing. I would
sometimes leave him instructions on what he should be wearing when I got
home. Or I would text him a picture of a dress or some nail polish, and
give him a week to locate and buy it. I also would play "I will if you
will" with him, such as "I'll wear that corset, but only if you also wear
a corset."
My story today grew out of that sentiment. One day, I was perusing a
website and noticed that the store was having a "BOGO" sale, also known as
a "Buy One, Get One" promotion. In a BOGO sale, if the customer buys one
item at full price, he or she gets another item free or at some discount.
I noticed that BOGO sales were becoming quite popular. It seemed that
nearly every store had such a sale these days.
Now, to understand this story, you must understand that I love two things:
shopping and a challenge. This BOGO sale gave me an opportunity to pursue
both. I wondered if I could assemble two complete outfits -- one for me
and one for my husband -- purchased entirely from BOGO sales. The trick,
of course, would be that I would be purchasing only women's clothes and
accessories at the sales.
So, that Saturday, I dragged my husband out with me for some BOGO
shopping. I told him to come with me, and that I would be purchasing two
outfits solely from BOGO sales. I've taken him shopping before, but
always without making it obvious that we were purchasing items for him.
(Luckily, he was small enough that we could find his sizes in most women's
stores.) Today would be similar, but since I would be buying clothes in
two different sizes, we could never be sure what the sales associate would
surmise. I told him to cooperate with me and he would be very happy.
To get us both in the mood, I painted both of our toenails in matching
pink before we went out. (The color was called "SIssy" but I didn't tell
him that.) He was wearing shoes and socks, so no one would notice.
The first stop went well. We went to a lingerie store to pick out
undergarments. I found a really cute bra and panty set that was on sale.
I purchased one set for me in size 36C, and one at 50% off in his size of
40B. The sales girl either didn't notice or thought I was purchasing for
someone else. I also found pantyhose that were two for one, so I picked
those out too.
Next, we stopped at a costume jewelery store. I found great "goes with
anything" necklaces, earrings and bracelets, all on buy one, get one free
sales. At the makeup counter of the next store, I found lipsticks that
were 50% off the second tube. I didn't find other makeup on sale, but I
figured that those are basic items, so they didn't really count.
Everything changed when we went to buy a dress. Dresses are predictably
unpredictable. Every dress is different. A girl can never be sure of the
sizing, the color or the hang of a dress without trying it on. So, when
we went to the dress shop, I searched for a few for me. I tried every one
of them on in the store to find the right look and fit. When it came to
my husband's "get one" dress, I did not make him try it on. I simply held
the dress up in his direction, so I could get a rough idea of how it would
look.
My husband leaned back. "Hold still," I whispered.
"No," he replied. "Someone might see."
"I can't pick the right dress if you don't cooperate. Hold still. This
will only take a minute."
When I held up another dress, my husband stepped back again. I stepped
toward him, holding the dress out at arm's length. But he would have none
of it. He quickly walked away from me. All the way out of the store.
This angered me to no end. I seethed as I picked a dress without any help
from him. Perhaps because I was angered, I purchased a form fitting
minidress in a bright red. It was way too short. And way too bright,
too. The dress screamed for attention. It was the kind of dress that
would show a lot of cleavage, too, if he had any, that is.
After making my purchase, I found my husband outside. "I'm so made at
you!" I told him. "There was no one in the store, and you couldn't even
hold still for a minute so I could pick out a nice dress for you. You're
the one who enjoys wearing women's clothing. I'm not making you dress up.
You are going to get a whole new outfit out of this adventure. But you're
too afraid of the remote possiblity someone might think something was odd
to stand there for just a second? If you want me to continue putting up
with your little hobby, you need to start cooperating. Otherwise, we can
stop our shopping right now. And you can stop expecting me to participate
when you dress as a woman. Is that what you want?"
My rant got to him. He was quiet for a moment. Then he apologized, and
said that he wanted to continue. "I'll behave," he said. "I'm sorry
about what happened. I just panicked back there. I'll try my best to do
better at the next store. Please let's keep going."
"OK," I said, "But you're going to have to pay for that little outburst.
I'm really frustrated with you."
"I will make it up to you," he promised, "whatever I need to do." Little
did he know how high the price was going to be. To be honest, at the
time, neither did I. But I soon devised a payback that surprised even me.
We put our purchases thus far in the car and drove to the shopping mall.
The last thing we needed to buy was shoes, and there is a specialty store
in the mall that sells the larger sizes he needs. It's a full service
store, not one of those self-service discount stores that are so common.
And, they had a BOGO sale going on.
When we entered the store, I took a prominent seat in the center of the
store, near the entrance. I had my husband sit on the outside of me,
towards the mall traffic. He was clearly visible to anyone and everyone
in the mall.
It was my intent to make him a little uncomfortable. But as I shopped,
the idea for payback came to me. It was time for my dear husband to face
what he really is. After this, he will know better than to shy away when
I hold a dress up to him.
The sales person helping me was a young woman in her early twenties. She
was very cute and outgoing. I bet my husband was secretly attracted to
her. All the better, I thought.
In record time (for me), I selected a modest pair of pumps. They were
navy with a 3 1/2 inch heel. Good for work. Won't be uncomfortable and
won't attract the wrong kind of attention. When the girl told me that
they were having a sale and that the next pair of shoes was free, I sprang
into action. "That's wonderful," I said. "I'd like to see a pair of open
toed sandals, with at least a 4 inch heel, in red. In a size 11."
My own shoes were a size 9. The sales girl understandably had a look of
confusion on her face. She started to say something, presumably to tell
me I asked for the wrong size. That's when I cut her off. "The sandals
aren't for me, sweetie. They're for my sissy husband here. He needs a
pair of shoes to show off the pretty pedicure he's wearing. He
practically begged me to paint his toenails pink to match mine. Show her,
dear."
My husband had a look of panic on his face. "Come on, honey. You wanted
your toenails painted that color. The color is called 'Sissy.' It's so
fitting. That's what you are. You wanting to dress as a woman all the
time. And I know how you love platform heels. Now is your opportunity to
get a pair you know will fit properly." I glared at him briefly, silently
reminding him of his pledge to cooperate. To the sales girl, I said,
"let's measure his feet, just to be sure of the sizing."
My husband slowly but obediently took off his shoes and socks. Everyone
in the mall could see the man in pink nail polish having his foot measured
by an attractive sales girl. I could see his penis getting hard. (And,
to be honest, I was getting a little wet myself.) The sales girl remarked
that his toes looked very pretty.
"Thank you. I did them this time, but he has a lot of practice painting
his own nails. He just loves nail polish. The girlier the color, the
better for him. He really wanted me to do his fingernails this morning.
He almost cried when I said no." I was lying when I said these things
(except about him being able to do his own nails). But they fueled his
embarrassment and I was enjoying that right now.
"You're in luck, baby. I brought the nail polish with me. It's right
here. If you're good, maybe we can get you a manicure next."
The sales girl smiled at my comments and finished measuring his feet. "I
have a pair of red platform sandals that would be great. The have a lot
of 'pop' and would really draw attention to his feet. They're perfect to
show off a sissy pedicure. Let me see if I have them in his size."
She brought them out and they were beautiful. They were 5 inch wedge
heels, with a 1 1/2 inch platform. They had an ankle strap and thin red
straps across the foot. The toes were completely exposed. I loved them.
We made my husband walk around the store, ostensibly to test the size, but
really to show off his ability to walk in heels. If anyone in the mall
had any doubt who was shopping for heels, it was quite obvious now.
Then the sales girl, probably sensing a bigger commission, stepped in.
"You know, we are having a buy one get one free sale. If he doesn't
already have them, you should consider getting him a few more shoes. I
just got in some classic black pumps. They're the kind every girl needs.
They go with everything from jeans to a little black dress. And, if you
get those, he'll get another pair free. He would get three pairs, but you
only pay for one more."
I happily agreed with the idea. We had him try on several more pairs of
heels. We bought the black pumps. I made him select the pair he "liked
the most" as his final pair. Then I made him pay for the purchases with
his own credit card. The sales girl signed him up for their frequent
buyer club. She gave him her card and said to come back regularly to
build the right wardrobe. "A girl can never have enough shoes," she said.
"You can wear the sandals out if you like," she offered. "Let me take the
sticker off of them for you." My husband looked at me, probably hoping I
would say no. But instead, I nodded my head slightly. "Yes, I would love
that," he answered. Clearly, by now he had learned not to cross me.
As we turned to leave the store, I saw a nail salon across the hall.
"Look, honey, there's a nail salon right here. You've been so good, you
can get that manicure you wanted. Here's your nail polish ('Sissy,'
remember?). Take this wristlet purse, your phone and your credit card.
Go see if they can do your fingers for you. I'll stay here and shop some
more. I can't have you own more heels than me."
As he reluctantly walked out into the mall, I thought, "It's too bad nail
salons don't have BOGO sales." Oh well, I can make an exception this
time.
I watched him walk across the mall toward the nail salon. Two teenage
girls walked past him. I saw them turn around after passing him and
snicker. I wonder if they said anything to him.
My husband approached the counter at the salon. It looked pretty busy.
Good, I thought. They had him sit in the waiting area for a few minutes.
An older woman was sitting next to him. She looked uncomfortable with the
effiminite man sitting next to her. Quickly, I texted my husband. "Talk
to her," I said. I saw him look up, look at me, but then reluctantly
start up a conversation. I couldn't hear it, but I knew that the whole
thing must be embarrassing.
After only a few minutes, a beautiful young tech came out to get my
husband. He stood up, in his platform heels, took his purse and followed
her back. But they didn't go far; her station was right up front, visible
from the mall. Perfect, I thought.
I watched her doing his nails for a few minutes. She was putting a lot of
effort into it. When it looked like she was almost done, I walked over to
the salon.
"Oh, there you are, baby!" I said loudly as I approached his nail station.
"You ran out so quickly after buying those heels that I didn't know where
you went. I should have known you were coming here. You just love
wearing nail polish. I bet you couldn't wait."
My husband was turning red, but he didn't say anything. And he didn't try
to run. I was enjoying this (more than I expected) so I continued. "What
color did you select?"
He paused, but he answered. "It's called,'Sissy'," he said.
"That's so lovely. And so appropriate for you. That's the color you
painted your toes with this morning."
The tech looked at me and then responded, "He brought the polish with him.
He asked for his fingers to be painted to match his toes."
"And the extensions?" I asked.
"Since he it was his first time here, I gave him our new customer special
-- 50% off nail extensions. I don't think he realized what was happening
until I started to glue the new nails on him. He's so submissive. Not at
all like my man."
"Yes, my husband is a girly man. He likes to wear women's clothes,
especially nail polish and makeup. This whole day was his idea. We were
BOGO shopping and he disppeared while I bought my own pair of heels at
that store across the mall."
"I don't mind," said the tech. "I get a few sissies once in a while. I
enjoy taking them further than they expect. They can't really say no,
I've found."
I decided to take it up another notch. "Yes, he is rather compliant. Did
you know, Sissy, that nail extensions should stay on for a few weeks at
least? It looks like your vacation is about to start early this year."
Then, I turned back to the tech, "Since he won't be dressed as a man for a
while, I wish that he looked more girly when he dresses up. Like now,
he's girl from the neck down but guy above. Does this salon do makeup and
hair?"
"Of course, I can get my friend, Rachel, to do that. By the way, I'm
Julie. Why don't you have a seat while I take him back." She led my
husband to the back of the salon. I saw her talking to another woman, who
then led my husband to a chair.
When Julie returned, she said, "If you like, I can do your nails, too. If
you get our new customer special, it will be just like a buy one, get
one." I'm so lucky, I thought.
About an hour later, Rachel returned with a very beautiful woman. She had
plucked my husband's eyebrows, styled his hair in a short but definitely
girlish style, and applied a full set of makeup.
"Sissy, you look beautiful! I can't believe how great of a job they did."
I said to him.
"Rachel was very helpful," my husband said. "She made me feel very
welcome, but I'd like to go now."
"We're almost done, my sweet. While you were in the back, I brought the
clothes we bought for you today. You can go to the ladies room and
change. I'm sure Rachel and Julie would love to see you completely
dressed."
My husband slowly took the dress and other purchases to the back. Rachel
escorted him back to a special changing room. She leaned in and gave him
a friendly kiss on the cheek. When he returned, he was dressed head to
toe in his new purchases. The minidress was indeed a little too short,
but it matched his shoes perfectly. He looked truly passable -- beautiful
even.
Rachel and Julie were thrilled to see him. "You truly are a sissy. I
don't see any man there at all," Julie said, "I'm almost jealous of the
way you look." Rachel echoed the comment, "Yes, if I didn't know you were
a sissy man, I would definitely think you were one of us." They looked at
me and she continued, "In fact, Julie and I are going to go clubbing
tonight. She would fit right in with that outfit. If the two of you want
to stop by our apartment, then we could go out -- just four girls looking
for some fun." Turning to me, Rachel asked, "What do you say?"
"That's great," I said. "But only if we pick a place that's having 'buy
one, get one' drink specials."
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