Petticoat Treatment free porn video

Jeanie and I had fallen I love quickly. We were both young and impulsive, so we married within a year of meeting each other. We were a pretty good match as we both liked a lot of the same activities and enjoyed our time together, but still had some activities we would do on our own. She was a year older than me and had gotten a nice managerial job straight out of college. I was still going to school, taking classes and progressing, although slowly, toward a degree. Our career paths also were reflected in our appearance. She wore stylish clothes and presented a more conservative image. She wore her dark hair in a neat bob, and her clothes accentuated her 5'7" height and slim, but well defined frame. I still looked like a student, blue jeans, t-shirts, and sandals. I kept my blond hair long and unkempt, but it was usually in a ponytail. I was not skinny, but did lack a lot of muscle as my exercise was limited to an occasional run. However, we were a typical young couple in most ways. The one outstanding variation with in our relationship was that I was a cross-dresser. I confessed this to her as soon as I asked her to marry me, and cried as I could see no way to free myself of this desire. I had tried many times as a teen to quit, but always succumbed to my weakness for women's wear. Soon after our honeymoon, I read about a treatment I thought might work for me and suggested it to her. It was called petticoat desensitization. It required that the man wear women's underwear under his regular clothing and the premise was that if a man had to wear feminine undergarments all the time he would become desensitized to them. They would no longer be a sexually exciting item to wear. He would see them just as clothes, because he would wear them so much that the erotic aspects would be overwhelmed by the routine day to day actions of everyday life. To be honest, it seemed like an ideal solution, partly because it would give me an excuse to wear lingerie all the time. Jeanie was a little skeptical, but was willing to try. We plunged in and I made a habit of wearing an unpadded bra, panties and occasionally pantyhose each day under my normal clothes. But I soon began to falter, and would just wear panties or not wear any woman's stuff, especially if having them under my male clothes, would pose any kind of problem. Eventually I stopped the everyday schedule and I soon reverted to just slipping them on when opportunity presented itself and Jeanie was out of the apartment. I'm sure she noticed but never said anything about it. I just assumed she had forgotten about it and never brought it up. I didn't want to admit it, but I was relieved I had tried it but it hadn't worked. I guess deep down I wasn't ready to give up cross-dressing. The situation remained unresolved until one evening. Jeanie had just returned from a ski club meeting; she had long enjoyed snow skiing, but it didn't appeal to me, so she had joined a club so she could take trips with friends. This evening, I had taken the opportunity while she was gone to slip into some lingerie, look at some transvestite sites online, and masturbate. I had put everything away I thought by the time she returned. However, as she emerged from the bedroom after changing into something more comfortable, she carried a pair of light pink lace panties in her hand. I saw them and knew right away that I had left them out, as they were not one of her pairs. The look on her face showed that she was aggravated, but not particularly angry. "Mike, I see you've been dressing again, or at least playing around. Is that what you do when I'm gone?" "I guess so. I mean not every time you go somewhere, but I do it sometimes. I don't want to annoy you with my cross-dressing. I'm sorry, let me put those away." "No, I think we need to talk about this. You know that I love you, but I want you to destroy these urges. I thought you were going to try that desensitization approach, but I never see you wear girls stuff under your regular clothes. Are you not willing to try to treat yourself?" "I want to treat it, but wearing lingerie under my everyday clothes just didn't seem to be an effective way to lessen the desire; there were just so many complications. I never really felt an impact on my attraction to girl's clothes." "I see, but I think I know why you failed in this petticoat treatment. The concept seems logical, but we didn't put enough emphasis on it, nor did we employ a sufficient range of stimuli to make you see the clothes as non-erotic. What we need to do is approach it in a more complete way. To see if this might work, I think we need to embrace it fully. So from now on, I'm going to direct what you wear and when. I expect you to wear a full complement of lingerie every day when you go to school. When you are at home, you will be fully clothed either in a dress or skirt and blouse. Heels and make-up will also be part of your attire." "That sounds a little excessive to me, honey. I understand your desire for me to quit dressing, but you're talking about a much high level of commitment." "You're right about that. There is also much more to being feminine than wearing silky lingerie. I think if you have to do everything a woman does to enhance her appearance then the thrill will rapidly disappear. From now on not only will your petticoat treatment will be maximized, but you're going to undertake a crash course in being a woman starting tonight. One reason women wear silk, satin, and lace underwear, is that it compliments their silky, smooth, and soft skin. You are going to start there too. I'm going to fill the bathtub so you can soak. Then I expect you to shave yourself and I mean everywhere. Once you've done that then we can move forward with your other treatment requirements." "But Jeanie, I don't know if that is a good idea. What would I say to our friends about my hairless legs or underarms?" "I don't care what you say; tell them you need it for biking or swimming laps." "But, I don't do either." "Well if it bothers you so much, then I'd suggest you start. Because you are going to do this program and you are going to do it the way I want. Do you understand?" I felt panicked about making my body feminine appearing, but I also was worried about not trying to control my cross-dressing urges and disappointing Jeanie. I really wanted Jeanie to know I would do whatever necessary to make our marriage work. So I quit arguing and followed her into the bath to shave myself. It was a real uncomfortable process. With every stroke, I exposed more hairless skin, and I felt like I was shaving away my masculinity. It was a bit tricky too; some areas were really hard to shave without cutting yourself, but I finally completed the task. Stepping out of the tub, I saw my reflection in the mirror. I looked so smooth and admittedly, much more feminine appearing. I blushed, but also couldn't wait to see how my lingerie, especially stockings, would look now. Jeanie saw me blush and smiled. "You see, already you have a much better appreciation of what a female is. Go ahead and apply some of this lotion. You will need to touch up shaving every other day or so and I want you to apply lotion every morning and evening before bed. You can use mine tonight, but tomorrow we will get you some with your own signature fragrance. After you finish go into the bedroom, and get all your clothes out of your hiding place. You will need to hang them in the closet or store them in your dresser. After that, put on your baby doll nightgown." I did as she directed. It seemed like it was wrong to hang up my dresses and skirts next to my regular men's clothes, and even more so, as I boxed up all my men's underwear and replaced them in the drawers with panties, hose, and bras. But Jeanie insisted and directed me, until I was finally wearing the cute lacy nightgown. She had me lay down on the bed, and aggressively began to kiss me and rub my body. It was totally different feeling than any time before. We had never done anything sexually together when I was wearing women's clothes. But now, she was all over me. Jeanie made a point of caressing my hairless body, especially my little boobies as she called them. She cupped them with her hands, kissed and sucked them, and pinched the nipples. Of course all this made me horny as well, and my cock was as hard as it had ever been. Finally after a long period of foreplay, she pulled down my panties, straddled me from above, and slid her pussy down on my throbbing cock. She was in total control, as she started pumping up and down on me. I couldn't believe it, but in a matter of a few strokes I exploded into her, coming almost as soon as she started to hump me. Embarrassed, I offered no resistance when she moved forward and told me that I'd have to bring her off with my mouth. Despite my disgust at licking her pussy full of my semen, I felt so bad about how quickly I came, that I tried to be as enthusiastic as possible. I licked, kissed and tongued her clit and pussy until she came in a shuddering orgasm. Only she wasn't satisfied, demanding that I give her another. The second one took much longer and she seemed to have a deeper more moving orgasm and then rolled off me. I was still embarrassed and after cleaning up, we just snuggled till we drifted off to sleep. The next morning she insisted I wear women's clothes and laid out a bra, panties, pantyhose, dress, and heels. After I dressed she did a little makeup and pulled my longish hair back in a girl's ponytail. She also had taken measurements of my body, saying that I lacked some items that were necessary for my treatment. She was going to go shopping to fill out my wardrobe, while I cleaned the apartment. Although I usually did some household chores, we generally split the work. She made it clear that part of my treatment would be assuming all of the cleaning. She reasoned that since I was to be fully dressed while at home, I could make use of the time to be more responsible for our apartment. After a quick breakfast she left to shop and I started my chores. I must admit, I loved being dressed even if it meant doing housework. I was also excited about how feminine I looked with my smooth, hairless body. The day went quickly and when Jeanie returned, I was astonished by how many packages she had. Apparently my treatment required much more than the limited supply of woman's clothes that I had before. I was also glad she was back, as the heels had started to hurt and I intended to suggest we go out to eat, so I could get back into some more comfortable jeans and loafers. "Mike, take these packages up to our room and put them away. You'll see I got more dresses, shoes and a wider array of underwear, as well as your own makeup and beauty items. Once you're done, come back downstairs, I'd like a drink so we can talk awhile before you start cooking supper. I know you are a bit inexperienced at cooking, but I want you to develop all of your housewife skills. The more you immerse yourself into a feminine role, the less you will see women's clothing as erotic." I did as she asked, but was more than a bit frustrated at her directions. I hated to cook, and had been busy all day doing chores. I really had hoped to eat out tonight, like we did most weekends. This treatment was turning out worse than I had ever expected. Opening the packages, I saw she had gotten me quite a few cute outfits, mostly dresses, but a few matching skirts and tops. There were even a few pairs of pants, one a very feminine pair of jeans, with rhinestone decorations on the rear pockets, another a pair of white slacks with a side-zipper and smooth flat front, and a pair of light green capris with rolled cuffs. The assortment did make me excited, as I loved how they looked, but I was a bit worried about how many there were; it was obvious she expected this treatment to last awhile. The clothes were matched by several pairs of heels, with three styles of sandals and a couple of pumps, all in various basic colors that would work with my new dresses. The lingerie was even better, with pretty lace or silky bras and matching panties. A few had matching slips and there was another nightgown in light yellow. However, what puzzled me was that she had bought half a dozen body shapers, evenly split between long-leg panty styles and high-waist brief styles. The briefs had garter tabs, which explained why she had also bought stockings as well as pantyhose. There was even one strapless black bustier with garters. I didn't think of myself as fat or flabby, so buying so many shapers surprised me. The lingerie was complimented by a pair of silicone breast pads which looked quite big. Her selection of makeup was extensive, and I could see it was geared more toward my light skin tone then her cosmetics were. The beauty items included lotions, face cr?me, skin treatments, like facial masks, women's deodorant, and even perfume. She had coordinated them all in a nice lavender fragrance, which worried me more. If I used these regularly, as she had indicated, I would always have a nice hint of a very feminine smell. After putting everything away, I went back downstairs. "Well Mike, I hope you liked your outfits. I spent a lot of time and dare I say money on you. I assume you can determine how much I'm committed to this treatment. I also assume you will do your part." "I will do as you asked and the clothes looked really nice. I think you did a great job picking out most stuff. I was a little surprised to see the shapers; I guess I thought I was thin enough not to need them. Also, I thought you wanted me in skirts or dresses, but I like the idea of having an option for pants too. " "Oh Mike, you can be so innocent sometimes. I wouldn't call those shapers; they are old fashioned girdles. I bought the firmest models I could find. You will wear one every minute you are not in your nightgown. For centuries, women have worn foundations like girdles to meet fashion requirements set mostly by men. I want you to feel that control as well. Even thin women have been pressured to wear girdles, often to produce a tight look under clothes. So you will be no different. As for the pants, you won't be allowed to wear them at home, but occasionally you'll be required to wear them to run errands or for certain events. I think it will be a good lesson for you to see how difficult it can be to wear white pants or extremely tight jeans. As a matter of fact, since you mentioned it, I want you to go back upstairs and pull on one of the panty girdles. Then you can get to your cooking duties." The rest of the day I made dinner, served Jeanie, and did various other tasks she required. I understood what she meant by a firm control girdle, as it seemed to squeeze me the entire evening. Finally she allowed me to go upstairs, and slip into my new yellow nightgown. As we did the night before, Jeanie was extremely aggressive toward me sexually. She really seemed to delight in squeezing my boobs as well as pinching and sucking on my nipples. I blushed several times as she commented on how big they were for a man. Our intercourse unfortunately was also the same as last night; I exploded almost as soon as she mounted me. Blushing and embarrassed, I meekly planted my face in her pussy to lick her to three orgasms before she allowed me to go get cleaned up. She made it clear that her satisfaction would be first priority, and even suggested that perhaps I needed some type of control on my cock since I seemed to be so excited lately. The next day was spent learning how to apply cosmetics, undergoing beauty treatments, and doing laundry. She made it a point; I was to iron her clothes for the next week, and that I also would iron all of my dresses, skirts, and blouses after washing. Even if I was to only wear them inside, they needed to look professional at all times. She also told me that I would need to go to her hair salon for a trim. She wanted my hair to be shaped so that I could have a more feminine hairstyle. I would be required to keep it in a woman's style when at home. If I hadn't gotten the message earlier, it was becoming very clear that this treatment attempt at desensitizing my desire for women's clothes would be much more than I had ever imagined. The next few weeks set a real pattern. I went to her hairdresser and my hair was trimmed so that I had bangs and a shoulder length style that could be kept in a smooth bob, but it could also be set in a mass of loose curls. Pulling it back in a ponytail would let me get by well enough at school. Jeanie had also told the stylist to lighten my hair; giving me a very blonde look and her assistant had shaped my brows so that they had more of an arch. From then on, I was required to style my hair as soon as I returned home from school. Her pattern required that I get up early, dress in panties, pantyhose, long-leg girdle, and a bra. I usually put my hair back in a ponytail and slipped on a dress and heels to make her breakfast. When I went to school, I exchanged the dress for jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, often with a coat or sweater over that. Even though it was not very cool yet, I was paranoid about someone seeing the lingerie I wore. I returned from school about 2 hours before Jeanie left work, so I had time to transition into my full feminine appearance and do chores. I would strip out of my clothes, turn on the hot curlers, and take a quick shower so I could shave my face and touch up my legs or underarms to keep them smooth. Once out of the shower, I set my hair with the hot curlers, applied my makeup and got dressed. My required uniform at home included panties, a bra with breast forms, panty girdle with garters, and stockings. Over this, I could wear a dress or skirt and blouse outfit, but always had to wear a pair of my 4-inch heels. Combing out my hair, spraying it to set the curls and applying a little perfume completed my look. I would usually do some cleaning, start dinner, and work on ironing clothes or hand-washing our lingerie. Once Jeanie arrived home, I would serve her a drink and later dinner. Of course, I was responsible for cleaning up and washing dishes afterwards. The rest of the evening we spent together, watching television, reading, surfing online and listening as she described her day. As we readied for bed, I would change into a baby-doll nightgown and do the typical beauty treatments, lotions, etc. that any woman would do to stay soft and maintain her feminine beauty. Then I was to be available to please her sexually. She now took the lead in sex, which featured a lot of foreplay. My nipples and little breasts were fondled, kissed, sucked and pinched constantly with lots of comments about how feminine I looked. She generally was on top, often pinning my hands above my head as we kissed. Occasionally, she would even use one of my stockings to tie them to the head rail. She said it was important for me to feel vulnerable and develop an acceptance that my body was her plaything; it was a feeling many women got when men had sex with them. She also liked to tease my cock, stroking it through my panties or rubbing her pussy across it till I was ready to explode. Embarrassingly, I had developed a severe case of premature ejaculation. When she would finally slip my penis into her, I never lasted more than a few strokes. She teased me about it unmercifully, commenting that she was really beginning to miss the satisfaction that a hard cock could give. I became resigned to giving her orgasms with my mouth, but that did develop my oral skills. The only time I got to experience sexual pleasure as a male, was when Jeanie had left to go to one of her ski club meetings. They had increased in frequency as the season approached. Because we lived in a southern climate, it was necessary to travel to ski, and she usually made several trips each season. This year she had even volunteered to plan one outing. Her partner, Pat, and her met at the meetings and laid out the trip. Pat was a long time member of the club and had set up many trips. I assumed the club had partnered Jeanie with her, so Jeanie would have a mentor. While she went out, I usually slipped out of my girl clothes, to lay naked on the bed. Stroking my cock, my eyes closed, I would focus on how sex with Jeanie should go. In my fantasies, I was on top, naked, while she laid back, her legs spread wide. I fondled her breasts and plunged into her with my cock, pounding her until she screamed in orgasm. I held back, until she begged me to finish. Of course, I lasted longer when I masturbated, but no matter how much I tried to develop restraint it never changed when I was actually with her. Something about being the submissive partner, dressed sexily in lacy lingerie evaporated my stamina. Invariably, when she finally mounted me, my cock would fail me and spurt almost immediately. Unfortunately, she returned early one evening, and found me playing with myself. I don't know what made her madder, that I was pleasing myself or that I had shed my dress, heels and lingerie. She made a scene and actually forced me to sleep fully clothed that night. I was not going to sabotage her treatment this time. I had assumed we were back to our normal routine, as nothing was said in the days after she caught me, although it was a week until she indicated after supper that I should go prepare myself for her. Waiting on the bed, I vowed I would last longer, but to no avail. Spread out beneath her, my hands firmly lashed to the head rail, I failed miserably. I think I began to ejaculate before she even completely engulfed my cock with her pussy. She seemed to pay it no mind, moving as before so I could clean her puss and bring her off with my mouth. After she came, twice mind you, she went to the bath and then brought a washcloth, soap and razor to the bed side. She had begun to shave my privates a few weeks back, insisting that I keep them baby smooth and seemed to take a personal satisfaction in doing it herself. However, this time when she finished, she didn't release my bound hands. Rather she produced a small metal device and began to put next to my cock. I hadn't got a good look at it, but assumed it was one of her vibrator type toys. "Jeanie, what are you doing? You know I am particularly sensitive after we have sex. I don't appreciate you using some toy on me like that." "Oh Mike, it is not a toy. Toys are for playing. This is more like a medical device. It should help with your premature ejaculations, and will also insure that you don't waste time masturbating anymore." I could see her attaching it as she talked. It was a small tube and ring device that fit snuggly around my cock and balls. She finished her work by clicking shut a small padlock. Pulling vigorously, she seemed satisfied that it would not come off. "I was disappointed that you felt you could masturbate while I was out, especially given your poor performances lately. You compounded the sin, by not being in your required outfit. I don't appreciate you thinking of yourself first. Your focus needs to be on me and my pleasures. You need the mindset of a wife, who saves her sexual energy for the head of the house, her husband. This device will prevent any weakness on your part. You should be able to pee and do everything you need to, except get an erection. When or if I decide you have earned an orgasm, and then I will unlock you so you can please me. I also expect it to remind you that you better be in your proper feminine attire, unless you want to try for an extended period of chastity." With that, she reached up and untied my hands. I couldn't help but test the device myself, but soon was convinced that it would not come off without her key. The next week was dreadful. I never realized how much I missed stroking or playing with my cock. Jeanie insisted I wait until I had earned my release. Of course, her needs would not wait and I spent time every evening with my face between her legs. She still kissed and fondled my boobs, which had the effect on me that she aimed for; my cock hardened and tried to escape its prison, but without success. Finally after a long week, she tied my hands and unlocked the device. She wasted little time in teasing my cock, bringing me to the edge of orgasm multiple times. Straddling me, she teased the head of my cock with her pussy lips, and embarrassingly, I came even before I entered her. Moving up so I could clean my come off her, she laughed at my failure and even teased me that my little cock had accepted the concept of my treatment and converted itself to a clit. It no longer served to penetrate, but merely was a nub whose purpose was to be stimulated for orgasm. I felt so defeated, that I voluntarily refit the device so she could lock it again. From then on, she made it a habitat to wear the key to my cock, on a chain around her neck. The key hung between her breasts, as a constant display of my enforced chastity. In addition to changing my appearance and attitude about being feminine, Jeanie also modified many of our usual routines. Ever since we married, we had a date-type night on Fridays. Because she wanted me totally dressed the entire weekend, we quit going out for these. Rather I would make a light dinner, a large salad or homemade soup, and we would have what she called a 'sleep-over'. Basically we would change into our nightgowns, eat popcorn, and spend the evening watching a chick-flick movie. She insisted that I wash my hair and then sit facing away from her, between her legs. Jeanie would put old-fashioned curlers in my hair with a hair bonnet covering them when she was done. I would then do our nails, giving her a full pedicure, foot massage, and manicure. Occasionally, a facial or beauty mask treatment would be part of the night, depending on the length of the movie. Of course I would spend the night with the curlers in my hair; learning to sleep with them took quite a bit of adjusting. The resulting curly hair would normally last the weekend, insuring that my appearance would stay quite feminine. The positive thing was that I had certainly changed my feelings about lingerie and cross-dressing. It no longer was a sexy, forbidden pleasure. All the requirements that I must now meet, were draining the excitement from the acts. All the time spent keeping my body looking, feeling, and smelling feminine was time lost from my normal interests. I had to focus so much on keeping my hair and face pretty and made-up that I lost more time. As for clothes, I was more intent on being sure they were clean, tidy, and that I matched so that I could achieve the feminine ideal that Jeanie required. My life was now focused on my appearance, actions, and thoughts so I would look totally believable as a woman. Even when I went to school, I was conscious of my underwear and how feminine my face and hair looked even without makeup, that I withdrew and kept to the back of classes becoming a shy observer. I had basically isolated myself from our friends and my classmates, so that serving Jeanie and being feminine was my entire life. Jeanie was not unaware of these changes, partly because they affected her life too. She was now more prone to interact with her work mates, members of the ski club, or neighbors without involving me. Although we spent most of our time together in the apartment, when she left we were rarely if ever together. But she had decided that needed to change. First she began to encourage me to do more errands with her in the evenings after dinner, rather than after school. That required me to tone down my feminine appearance a little, wear the pants she had bought me, but still I appeared more female than male. I was nervous about it, but with her there to calm me, I began to adjust. I saw most people didn't even notice me, let alone try to decide if I was actually a woman. Second, Jeanie decided it was time that our friends knew about my situation. It started out like our usual Friday night. Jeanie had picked out a movie, '27 Dresses' for us to watch and I had a pot of homemade stew cooking on the stove. I was in the process of making a salad to go with the stew, when the phone rang. She answered it and smiled indicating it was someone she knew. "Oh hi Marti, how are you doing? Really, that's too bad; gone for the entire week. You got any plans? I see. Well, if you want, we are just getting ready for dinner and have plenty. It's just stew and salad, but we would love for you to come over. It seems like forever since we just sat and talked. Great, see you in about 5." I was half-listening to her conversation, but when I heard the invitation my ears perked up. I immediately began to get nervous. "Jeanie, did you just invite our neighbor, Marti, over for dinner?" "Yes, her husband Gary had to go out of town this week on a business trip, and she was alone. I thought she might enjoy eating with us and having some company tonight. We've not really seen her much lately, and I know you like her as much as I." "It's not that, she is funny and friendly, and we have enough to share dinner, but I just need to go change. If she is coming over right away, it will take me some time to remove my makeup and get into some pants and a shirt." "Not so fast, buster, the house rules for your treatments require you be dressed femininely all the time, especially weekends. That applies whether we have friends over or not. That was one of the problems with our first attempt at this. Besides, Marti knows about your treatment. So I think it will be a logical next step, in training you to see the women's clothes as ordinary items rather than a sexual fantasy." I was stunned and a bit panicked. I never thought about Jeanie telling someone about my treatment and as far as someone seeing me, it was among my worst nightmares. Now I had to face a good friend that would always have an image of me, dressed and made up like a woman. Not the kind of legacy a guy likes to leave. I tried to busy myself setting another place at the table, and opening the bottle of wine that Jeanie had selected, but my heart was racing a mile a minute. I did have to take a quick glance at the mirror in the dining room; just to be sure my makeup and outfit were okay. The doorbell only heightened my anxiety, which peaked when Jeanie let Marti inside. Glancing over the counter as they entered, I could see a broad smile spread across Marti's face; Jeanie just had a sort of smug look. I felt my face flush and just stood there awkwardly not knowing what to do. Marti broke the ice. "Mike you look so darling. Jeanie told me all about how you guys were dealing with your issue and of course I had a mental image of it, but this is entirely different. You look so cute. I love your hair and your makeup is just right, not too heavy, but emphasizing your feminine features. I hadn't realized until now how feminine you are; I guess you hid it well. Now with the right clothes you really look the part of a housewife. Come out from behind that counter and let me see those legs. Jeanie was bragging about how sexy they looked. Do a quick twirl." I did as she asked, but felt foolish as I turned and my skirt swirled outward. Marti let out a squeal and a peel of laughter. Looking at Jeanie, she was full of questions. "Is he wearing garters and stockings under his skirt? I hadn't thought of him in a garter belt!" "Oh it's not a garter belt, but a girdle. I insist he wear one all the time; usually it is a high-waist brief with garters and stockings at home. When he is out, I let him go with pantyhose and a long-leg style." "Girdles! That is so funny. I love it. You told me that the purpose was to show him how hard it was to be a woman, but I hadn't thought of those. Mike, I guess you are getting a new appreciation for what it takes to be a girl. Is wearing a tight girdle the most difficult part of your training?" "Well they are hard to get used to, but I guess the hardest part just involves all the time it takes to make yourself presentable. I never realized how much work it is to do your hair, apply makeup, and keep your skin soft and smooth. By the time you get dressed, you've easily lost a couple hours every day. But I think it is working, I mean now I see the clothes completely different than before." "Well that's good. I know Jeanie told me she has a lot of faith in you and has appreciated how committed you've become to this approach. But I got to tell you, I think you look very pretty as a woman. I used to think of your hair as kind of ratty-looking, but it looks fabulous now. Also, your eyes look so big and expressive with makeup. It is a lot of work, but in your case it makes a big difference." I blushed at her comments and thanked her for being kind and understanding. From then on, the conversation flowed into normal mode. We talked about our lives and what had been happening. There was more back and forth about fashion; it was a more than a little odd to talk with Marti about my favorite makeup brands, what I did to my hair, or what accessories were hot this year. But overall, it was like any other visit with her. She was very friendly and by the time I started to clear the table and do the dishes, I was at ease in her presence. While I worked, the women went to the living room to continue talking. Just, as I joined them after doing my chores, Marti suggested that maybe it was time for her to go. "Oh don't go yet. We usually have a relaxing Friday night. Stay with us, we can watch an emotional move, have a little more wine, and I picked up a chocolate cheesecake for later." I was pleased at Jeanie inviting Marti to stay. Although, I admit it was a bit selfish for wanting her here. I assumed our usual routine of rolling my hair and I doing our nails would be dropped. That meant that I would not be as feminine this weekend as most; perhaps we could go out and do something exciting as well. I decided to chime in. "Please stay, it's been great to see you again and I'd love to have some company for our movie night." "Well, if you guys insist, I just didn't want to overstay my welcome or intrude on your plans." "That's not a problem. Mike and I can still have our regular Friday night sleepover, and you can join us. This will be even better; like we used to do in college. I think I have a pair of PJs that you can wear. And Mike has gotten so good at doing nails; he can give you his special pedi-mani combo." I almost died when I heard Jeanie. Marti smiled and accepted, admitting that she was hoping to spend more time with us tonight. Jeanie explained our usual routine further and Marti laughed and said she loved the idea. But I started to blush, when Jeanie told me to go wash my hair and change into my new little peach baby doll. I stammered out a weak protest, suggesting one of my other nightgowns, but she told me to go ahead as she ordered. The new nightgown was particularly short and frilly. It had a puckered bust, that emphasized my little boobs, but the worst part was the sheer thong panty. I knew my chastity device would be very visible. Reluctantly, I left to comply with Jeanie's instructions. After I undressed and went to the bath to wash my hair, the women changed into their pajamas. Jeanie had gotten into the habit of wearing silk trouser and top styles, I think partially to emphasize her more dominant role in our relationship, and they were fully changed by the time I returned downstairs. I was holding a basket with my hair rollers, manicure set, polish, and accessories in front of me, effectively hiding my panty. But as I clicked across the floor in my high heel bedroom slippers, both women looked at me and Jeanie came to take the basket. As soon as she took it, I could see Marti glance at what was hidden behind the basket. Her eyes widen and she turned to Jeanie, with a real questioning look on her face, but was reserved enough not to say anything. Jeanie smiled broadly and let out a giggle. "I guess you noticed something, didn't you. Well that is a chastity device. I learned early on that Mike lacked the self-control he needed for the treatment. So, I've effectively taken possession of his cock. He has to earn the right to orgasm. He's also started having a problem with getting too excited too quickly. I've told you how small he is to begin with, so he really can't afford to have that problem too. I'm hoping I can retrain him to develop more stamina. Now you understand, why I told you not to worry about being with him in pajamas and night gowns. He's pretty much a girl, all the time, unless I decide to let his little thing out of its cage." As Jeanie explained it, I blushed so much my face seemed to be red hot. Marti was laughing but trying to hold it back. Finally she got under control and came to give me a hug, telling me she was proud of me for being so obedient to Jeanie. "It takes a lot of courage to do what you are doing Mike. I know you are embarrassed, but I agree with Jeanie. You guys are doing the right thing and you should listen to her no matter how difficult it might be. Besides, as I told you earlier, at least you look cute dressed as a woman. I see more and more feminine traits in you. I thought most of your bust was padding, but seeing you in that baby doll, I can tell that you have quite a bit of breast of you own. That is at least a full A cup, maybe even a small B. Add that to your round butt and you've got more curves than many girls. So just hang in there, obey Jeanie, and I'm sure that you can get over this attraction to girl's clothes." Although, I appreciated her concern and kind words of encouragement, the fact that she felt I had a lot of girls' attributes was disturbing. No guy likes to hear he has a butt like a girl, let alone the bust to match. But I just swallowed my pride, thanked her, and we began the beauty activities giggling, and gossiping as the night went on. The woman both rolled my hair, before I started their pedicures. Marti just loved the foot massage and complimented me on how well I did the polish application. We started watching the movie as I did their nails and everything was going okay. Only Marti's insistence on snapping some photos of me, doing her toes and later Jeanie's fingernails made me nervous. I knew it wouldn't look good for me to have pictures of me kneeling, giving Marti a pedicure, with my hair in rollers and wearing a sexy little baby doll. But I got through the evening, and by the time we all crawled into bed, I was resigned to what had happened. It took a while for me to fall asleep, since Marti had insisted I sleep between them, and the constant contact from her and Jeanie kept my encouraging my cock to try to get an erection. The cage prevented that, but it enlarged as much as possible and throbbed for much of the night. Marti spent all day Saturday with Jeanie, shopping, while I cleaned Marti's apartment. It was nerve-racking enough to be dressed in someone else's place, but her offhand comment about Gary perhaps being back early kept me on pins and needles. Thankfully, he didn't return until Sunday, long after I had gotten back into my regular weekend routine. I could tell that Jeanie enjoyed herself, and I had the feeling that my training regime would soon be known to more of our friends. I knew for a fact that Gary would learn about me when he returned, as Marti couldn't wait for him to see her photos. The whole process was rapidly getting out of hand as far as I was concerned and decided I would soon try to convince Jeanie that the treatment had done its job. I just needed the right moment for that conversation. I never got a chance that week to talk with Jeanie. She was busy at work and a couple of nights talked to her friend Pat to finalize the plans for the ski club trip. They would meet with the club on Saturday to present their trip and see if enough people would sign up. If they had enough participants, then they would get their part of the trip free. Jeanie told me that she wanted Pat to come by on Thursday to work on a few details. It would be after dinner, so all I would need to do is serve a couple of drinks and stay out of the way. She also made it clear that I would be in my treatment attire, as I had been with Marti. I had tried to relax about her friend visiting, for example I had worn a nice dress and paid extra attention to my makeup and hair, but was still nervous when the doorbell rang. I tried to act busy putting away clean dishes from the dishwasher, but Jeanie was upstairs and called for me to go to the door; I could feel my heart racing. I had known Marti, but this woman was a stranger, someone I only knew by reference from Jeanie. As I opened the door, I tried to be calm but immediately started to blush as I saw who was there. Pat was not short for Patricia as I had guessed, but Patrick. A tall man stood there, with a thick brown hair, dark brown eyes and a square jaw with a noticeable five o'clock shadow. He looked both rugged and commanding, his eyes conveying a sense of power. I immediately lost my ability to talk, and meekly opened the door for him to enter. "Hello, you must be Mike. Jeanie told me you would likely be dressed as part of your treatment. I must say you look like you have mastered the subtleties of the female skills, you're quite attractive." I swallowed and tried to think of something to say, but was saved from further embarrassment when Jeanie came down the stairs. "Hi Pat. I see you've met my husband. I hope you don't mind his appearance. I think it is essential that he comply with all the dressing requirements when at home or he'll never break free of his desires. We can go back to the den to look over the last items. You want a scotch and water?" His affirmative answer allowed me to go hide in the kitchen to make the drinks. When I delivered them, both thanked me, but their attention was elsewhere, so I retreated to the laundry room. I still had a lot of blouses to iron for next week. While I worked I couldn't help but think about Jeanie's ski trip. I had assumed she was paired with an experience female, but now that I knew it was a man, I was a bit worried. What must he think of me, seeing me wearing heels, a dress, and fully made up? I had always worried about Jeanie and other guys, as she was so attractive. Now that I knew that she had been spending lots of time with one man my worries were increased, especially since he had seen me dressed as a woman. Finally after a couple of hours, he left. As soon as the door was shut, I began to question Jeanie. "You never told me Pat was a man! I thought you were planning the trip with another woman." "Mike, you never asked me about Pat. I didn't know you were unaware that he was a man. Besides, I'm an adult and an independent woman; I don't need your permission to interact with a man, just because you're my husband. " "I wish you had told me before; I'm not happy about another man seeing me dressed this way!" "Your dressing and any embarrassment that comes from it is something you have to live with until you're cured. In any case, Pat is really nice and has been so helpful to me in learning about the trip preparations. If we are successful, then I can do this regularly and we can save a lot on my ski trips." I could see that nothing else was to be gained by arguing, so I went about with my chores. Later Jeanie was particularly forceful when we were in bed. She made a point of teasing me about not having control over my own cock, requiring me to give her three orgasms with my mouth and tongue. The whole time she played with my nipples and breasts. Finally with her satisfied, we feel asleep. The buildup to the Saturday meeting of her ski club and trip presentation was tense. However, I knew when she walked in our apartment after her meeting that it had been a success. She was bubbling with excitement. The club members really liked her trip plans and were totally convinced by her presentation. The result was that the trip was completely sold out within 15 minutes after she began taking reservations. That meant a free trip for her and Pat. She was so excited that she wanted to celebrate and had invited Pat over for dinner next week. I was to cook up some steaks and shrimp with all the trimmings. Jeanie also made it clear that I was to take extra time with my appearance; any real woman that was having a special dinner would certainly do the same. The next week flew by. Jeanie insisted I thoroughly clean the entire apartment. She wanted everything spotless for her celebration dinner. I picked up the steaks, shrimp, and salad components. Because Friday's were a light school day for me, she also wanted me to go see her hairdresser. Not only did I need a touch-up on my hair color, she wanted me to get some extensions on my nails, professional polish, and an up-do hairstyle. I had done a fancy style once before, when it was our anniversary, and she liked how it made me look more sophisticated. She had also specified what I was to wear. All this effort made me more concerned about her relationship with Pat, but I couldn't do anything but follow her requests. Finally the big day was here. I prepared all the food, started some homemade bread in the bread machine, and went to the salon. Although I had been several times, it was always stressful. I knew the women customers at the shop would look at me strangely, so I tried to be feminine looking when I went. But this meant being outside dressed as a woman, something I was not yet comfortable with. This time I wore my green capris, a white blouse with a ruffle collar, matching white lace bra, panties, and girdle, open toed kitten heel sandals, and light makeup. Jeanie had me trained to use a purse when I went out now, so at least I felt like I would blend in at the salon. The preparations went smoothly. My nails were done in a French tip style with a ? inch extension. That was longer than my natural length, but not too extreme. My toenails were done to match. The hair color went a shade lighter, so that now I was a real light blonde, but it still looked natural. The up- do style had my hair pulled up, pinned in back and held on top with a hair band. The hair piled on top of my head was set with a curling iron so that it looked like a mass of curls on top. My face was framed by curled tendrils that hung down by my ears on either side of my bangs. When she finished spraying the set with hair spray, the stylist said she normally used a hair bow in back to help hide the bobby pins holding the hair. For a brides hair she used a white lace bow; otherwise she tried to match the color of the woman's dress. I said I would be wearing a black dress, so she suggested a black satin bow with white lace trim. It was a bit fancier than the other plain black one she had, so I went with the satin. I really wanted Jeanie to know that I was willing to go the extra mile if she wanted me to. When it was finished I had to admit it was a striking look, definitely a sophisticated, extremely feminine style. It must have looked nice, because several women complimented me on how pretty I looked. It was both good and bad to be seen that way; good because it meant I was attractive as a female, but bad because it suggested that my masculine characteristics were weak enough to be easily hidden. These feelings reflected how I had come to see my treatment overall. I had grown quite weary of taking all my time to shave everywhere, moisturize my body, apply all sorts of ointments and lotions to my face, put on and take off makeup, curl, style and set my hair, and dress in the elaborate clothing that females must wear in our society. I was beginning to really dread each day, having to go through these endless rituals just for my appearance. Nothing really was accomplished by all this effort and it kept me from doing so many things I really wanted to do. Not to mention the overwhelming feeling of humiliation and embarrassment that came when someone other than Jeanie saw me. I still had flashbacks to Marti's expression when she saw me and realized how completely I was dressed. But in spite of all that, there was still the feeling I got when I saw myself in the mirror. When I was finally done I loved how I looked. The feminine appearance of my face, the lovely clothes, and the overall look of being a woman, gave me a thrill. I had decided that despite my disgust at the foolishness of it all, until that thrill went away then I must continue the treatment. I hurried home to finish my preparations. The bread was almost done and would still be warm when Pat came over. I had set up the dining room table with some flowers and our nice place settings. Normally if it were just Jeanie and I, we would eat out on the deck; it was an especially romantic place for us. Our apartment had a large deck, and we had put our grill, a small loveseat, and a cozy table for two out on it. Since everything was in place, I went upstairs to finish dressing. Because Jeanie had stressed that she wanted me to do everything as if it were a special occasion, I worked really hard on my makeup. I had been experimenting with false eyelashes, and although it took a bit longer because of my new nail length, I finally got them glued on. Lots of eyeliner, mascara, and some darky sexy eye shadow made my eyes look large and very feminine. I had used my normal foundation and light powder, but put on more blush and a dark reddish maroon lipstick with a shiny gloss over it. The total look was sexy in a subtle way. I then changed into my black bustier, attaching lace-top black stockings to the garters. I slid a black satin panty over the garters. The design of the bustier had built in breast pads, so with my silicone breast forms in the cups, my small bust looked much bigger. In fact the design squeezed my little breasts upward to create quite a bit of cleavage and uplifted bosom. I highlighted the cleavage with some darker blush. The overall effect was really sexy. I then put on the black halter top dress and a pair of matching black peep-toe pumps. I finished off my preparations with a few squirts of my signature perfume. Looking at myself in the mirror, I was both pleased and a little embarrassed by my appearance; I again felt the conflict between looking feminine and feeling guilty because I could do it so well. Just as I was finishing, Jeanie came in from work. She checked out my food and decorative preparations, and then sized up my appearance. She was pleased with it all and went upstairs to get ready herself. I busied myself in the kitchen, so was stunned when she came down. She had chosen a tight, almost sheer jumpsuit in white. It was a halter top style with a backless design that left her bare down to the top of her butt. I knew she only wore a small thong underneath it and was more than a little jealous to see her dressed so sexily. The tight fit emphasized her breasts, narrow waist and taut butt. I had always loved seeing her in it, but now I had the suspicion that she had worn it for Pat. The fact that she was in pants, even if they were sexy, while I was in a dress also made me a little angry. It seemed she was not only dressing up for him, but highlighting the fact that I was in a dress; the reverse of the way a normal husband and wife would be. But I had little time to pout over this, as it was time for him to arrive. I took out the bread and cut it into slices. I also started the grill. The steaks and shrimp had been marinating and they would cook quickly once the grill was at the right temperature. Just as I completed these last preparations, the doorbell rang. Jeanie hurried to get it; I could sense her anticipation for him. She opened the door and led him in. I could see he was dressed in a nice, very expensive suit, although he did not have a tie. He was also carrying several packages and a bouquet of flowers which he handed to her. "Oh Pat, those are so pretty. It was nice of you to bring these, but you didn't have to do that." "I know, but I wanted you and Mike to know how much I appreciated the invitation to dinner. I know women love pretty flowers, and assumed Mike would like them as much as you would." "Please come in and let me get you a drink, scotch and water again?" I didn't have to be told, but took the flowers and put them in a vase and then quickly poured him a drink and made a rum and coke for Jeanie and me. They had gone out to the living room and were sitting on the couch. They both smiled as they took the drinks from me. "Let me make a toast to the success that Jeanie has accomplished. Congratulations on a job well done; your hard work, preparation, and personality lead to a complete sell out of the trip. Talking to other veterans of club, we don't remember anyone having such a success on their first attempt. So congratulations to you." We all raised our glasses and took a quick drink. I could see that Jeanie was a bit embarrassed by Pat's attention but was also proud of her accomplishment. I knew she was competitive at work, so I could understand how she would like that level of success in any of her projects. After we took our drink, Pat picked up the smaller of the gift wrapped boxes and gave it to Jeanie. "Here this is for you. I have a tradition of giving my partner a celebratory present when we sell out a trip. I hope you enjoy it." "Pat that is so sweet, and so unexpected, now I know why all the girls in the club like you." Jeanie began to unwrap the present. I could see the anticipation in her eyes; she loved opening gifts, even if they were small and inexpensive. On the other hand, this made me a little more jealous. It was one thing to work with my wife on a project, but giving her a gift was a bit over the line. All I could do was watch however. As she opened it, I could tell it was a nice surprise and was shocked when she held up a pair of diamond stud earrings. She in fact, was wearing the ones that I had given her as our first anniversary present. I could see that these were more than three times their size; certainly not an inexpensive present. Then when she held up a matching diamond necklace I knew that Pat had alternative motives. Jeanie was thrilled. "I can't believe this. I mean, that is so sweet but how can I accept these? Pat you shouldn't have!" Jeanie was making all the proper pronouncements, but at the same time she was taking out the smaller studs that I had given her and putting in the new larger ones that Pat had given her. He also helped her put on the diamond necklace. It draped down, sitting between her breasts next to the necklace that held the key to my chastity device. I had to sit there silently, mad at him for being so brazen as to give her an expensive present in my presence, and annoyed at myself for also being there dressed up as if I was a school girl at a party. She stood up to look at herself in the hall mirror. I could tell she was thrilled. As she looked back at us, Pat handed the second larger present to me. "This was quite an unusual situation for me. All of the other partners I had worked with for the club trips were single women. Since Jeanie was married, I felt it would be inappropriate to give her a present without giving you one as well. I hope you like it; I think it is suitable given your situation." Now I was stunned again. I wanted to be mad, but I had to hide it as he was being as generous to me as he had been to my wife. I un-wrapped the bow and lifted off the top of the box. Reaching in, I removed a black and white dress. I could tell immediately it was a maid's dress, although an elegant and sexy design. It was short, with a sweetheart neckline, a flared skirt, and sheer black shoulder straps. The hem and neckline were trimmed in a rich white lace and it zipped up the back. Then I noticed a name, in cursive white script across the left cup of the sweetheart top, Missy. Puzzled I looked up at Pat and Jeanie who had sat down next to him on the couch. He saw my confused look and smiled. "I couldn't figure out what to get you. When I told my secretary about your situation, she suggested this outfit; she knew a sexy costume store that sold maid outfits. I knew you had taken over most of the household chores from Jeanie as part of your treatment, and I had seen it firsthand the other night. I thought you might like a cute, sexy uniform when you had to do your wife's chores. The shop also offered free monograms with the outfit. At first I was just going to put your name on the breast, but that didn't seem right. I mean a sissy should have a prettier name than Mike. Then it hit me, Mike the sissy, Missy for short. I'm pretty sure that the dress will fit; I have an eye for women and can judge their sizes. It also has all the accessories you need as well." I could feel my face flush with embarrassment. It didn't help that Jeanie was oohing about it. The fact that he had bought me a maid's dress was horrifying, but he had also christened me as a sissy and branded me with a silly girl's name. I was trying to think how to refuse it when Jeanie changed from approving noises to actual speech. "Pat it is too darling! Mike, I mean Missy, will look so cute in it, I'm sure. I just love his new name too, so appropriate. I know I always felt awkward calling him Mike when he was dressed like one of the office girls at work. Now I'll have the perfect nickname for his feminine alter ego. Honey, why don't you just scoot upstairs and try it on? I'm dying to see how it will look on you. Go on and be quick, I don't want to delay dinner too long while you play dress up." I was furious, both at him and now my wife. I had hoped she might see how offensive this was to me. How having another man buy me a woman's serving uniform and embarrass me in front of my wife was not a nice thing at all to do. But all of that was lost on her. Now I had no choice but to go upstairs. I just hoped he wasn't as good at judging sizes as he thought. Once upstairs, I laid out the entire uniform on our bed. In addition to the dress, there were many accessories including: a white crinoline with lace hem, a sheer white apron, with lace trim that matched the dress, cuffs of sheer black with the same white lace trim, a white lace hair band, a wide sheer black choker with a white lace bow in front, and a pair of sheer black panties with rows of white lace across the bottom. I decided to just slip everything on over the bustier I was wearing; I thought for sure that the dress would be too short for my stockings and garters. I slipped out of my black halter dress and pulled off my panties. I stepped into the ruffled panty and pulled it up. It fit snugly across my bottom but the sheer fabric did nothing to hide my chastity device in front. I took the dress and stepped in pulling it up; as I zipped it up I could tell it fit tightly. I put my arms through the sheer straps; they had a small cap sleeve that just fit over the juncture of my arms and shoulders. The sweetheart neckline came just to the top of my bustier, fully showing off my cleavage and breasts. Next was the crinoline, it just pulled on and fit loosely around my waist; I fluffed out the short flared skirt of the dress until the crinoline was completely covered. The choker and cuffs were held on with a couple of pearl buttons, they fit snuggly but not too tight. I pinned the hair band around the front of the curls on the top of my head; this looked surprising finished. Finally, I put the apron on around my waist and tied it off with a big bow in back. I stepped over to the mirror and felt a rush of conflicting emotions. As a cross-dresser, I loved the look. It was sexy and had an implied aura of submission. But as a husband who had been given this by a man who had obvious intentions for my wife, it made me both mad and scared. He was very handsome and masculine in a way that I was not; especially when I was dressed in a sexy maid costume. I spun around in front of the mirror and a small smile appeared. Despite the attractiveness of the outfit, it was too short. Not only were my garters and stocking tops visible, but any movement revealed the white lace ruffles across my butt. Pat might be good at guessing women's sizes, but I did not have the proportions of a typical woman. As I started down the stairs I called out to him and Jeanie. "It seems to fit, but unfortunately it is too short for my frame. I guess I'm a bit taller than most women in this size. It's a shame, since with the name monogramed on it you won't be able to exchange the dress." I got to the bottom of the stairs and to demonstrate the shortness of the dress, did a controlled twirl while lifting up my hands. I knew that would show the panty and stockings to make it obvious that the dress was too short. As I finished the twirl, both Pat and Jeanie were smiling broadly. "Missy, don't be silly. The dress is just perfect. It is designed to show off your cute little panty, as well as the stockings. Why would there be the sexy little ruffles across your butt if they weren't supposed to be seen? I just love it. It suits you so well. I mean it won't be something you will wear when you're doing heavy cleaning, but for serving meals or just prancing around dusting, vacuuming, or ironing my blouses it is ideal. I don't know why I hadn't thought of a maid's uniform before. Thanks Pat, just like with the trip planning, you always have just the right idea." With that she leaned over and kissed his cheek. I was blushing from her evaluation of how perfect the uniform was for me, but this was too much. I didn't know what to say or do, so I just stomped into the kitchen to get the meal ready. But as I was taking the steak and shrimp kabobs out of the refrigerator, Pat entered and took them from me. "Let me have those Missy, grilling meat is more of a man's job. How about you move the table decorations and place settings out to the table on the deck? It is so nice outside; we've decided it would be better to eat out there." Jeanie had followed him into the kitchen and chimed in. "You can eat in the kitchen. Since this is a celebration of our trip success, Pat thought it would be better if just the two of us sat together. I agree. I mean it would be odd eating dinner with our domestic help. Be sure and put the nice flowers that Pat brought me on the table as well. Once you have the table set, bring out the rest of the food and open a bottle of wine." With that they left for the deck. I was totally stunned, and couldn't believe what had just happened. He had implied I was not manly enough to grill meat and Jeanie had called me a domestic. I am her husband, not some servant. I was going to set this straight once I had everything set up. I grabbed one of the table cloths we had for the little round deck table and then picked up the place settings and silverware. After transferring everything from the dining room, I put the flowers on the table and brought out the food to the small side table. Jeanie was standing next to Pat at the grill as he cooked, involved in small talk conversation. Both seemed to have forgotten I was there. Just as I was about to say something to them, Pat began to take the meat off the grill. He put a steak on her plate and one on his, as well as a skewer of shrimp. I noticed that he hadn't cooked the other steak. Looking me in the eyes, he handed me one skewer of shrimp. "I think this should do you. I noticed the dress is a tad tight, since you'll be wearing it more often now, I thought you might want to lose a few pounds. The steak can be used for another meal." Jeanie said nothing, but just looked up from the table. The implications were clear that I was to do as Pat told me and go back to the kitchen for my meal. She finally spoke up. "Missy, everything looks good out here. We should be fine for a while, but if you eat standing up at the counter in the kitchen you can see if we need your assistance. So unless we signal for you, just wait till we are done and then you can clear the dishes." Smiling she reached out to Pat and took his hand as he sat at the table. The t