The Real Stepford Wives Lizzie s Story
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A Proper Stepford Wife free porn video
"A Proper Stepford Wife"
It was a warm sunny day as I drove along after being at the bar for a
couple beers and a few games of pool. In the convertible Corvette I felt
the wind in my hair and sideburns at the sides of my baseball cap. I was
dressed as usual in t-shirt, jeans and tennis shoes. The sun was bright
as I headed home so I put on my sunglasses. I felt the slight itch then
scratched the whiskers at my chin and right cheek realizing I hadn't
shaved in a couple days. I figured I'd drive home and order a pizza then
get a hot shower and a shave in the morning.
And then I moved my legs. Maybe I thought I was getting out of the car
or something, but it was only a dream. I moved my legs again. Then I
heard the frictionless whispering zip of the sheer, shiny nylon stockings
on my smooth shaven legs as I quickly returned to reality!
I opened my eyes and noticed I was in my bedroom, a pink, frilly, almost
too feminine boudoir of a bedroom. I could smell the floral perfume in
the air as I pulled off my cover, a long pink nylon robe I used for
afternoon naps and set it aside. I was laying on my side dressed in my
lingerie and a white, lace trimmed nylon full slip, my vintage house
dress was on a hangar hanging over the top of the walk-in closet door
hung there for my afternoon nap so it wouldn't get wrinkled. I heard the
rustling of my lingerie and another zip of my nylons as I sat up on the
edge of the bed then slipped back into the five inch heeled black patent
leather ladies pumps. Just then Agnes passed my bedroom door and noticed
I was awake. "Don't slip into your dress just yet dear," she said as she
passed by. I got up, sat at my vanity and switched on the lighted
mirror. I touched up my makeup, lipstick and powder and then freshened
my vintage ladies hair set. Then Agnes returned and entered the room
carrying a pink box and a glass of water.
"You look like you didn't sleep well. Did you have another one of your
dreams?" she asked.
"Yes, yes I did," I gasped softly as I finished my hair.
She put the glass of water down with a pink pill of female hormones and a
larger orange pill. The pink pill was my now permanent maintenance
dosage of female hormones I took daily in addition to a twice monthly
injection. I didn't want to take the orange pill. It was a bit of a
tranquilizer that had a calming almost numbing effect. These had been
prescribed by my councilor. In my transition from man to woman I'd had
all the councilling sessions required, then, they continued on with me
building a feminine past. Of my "memories" of being a little girl,
wearing dresses and petticoats and liking pretty ribbons in my hair. And
other girl's memories, especially time and place growing up until I was
twenty-one. That was six years ago. I was now Mrs. Tiffany Hawthorne,
married to a Mr. Ned Hawthorne. Just that thought made my mind reel.
But this was it because I was here to stay now. Agnes had me take both
pills. The orange pill worked quickly and by the time she'd taken the
clear plastic globes from the pink box I felt weakened. I watched her
put on the white latex gloves. "Slip your slip straps down dear, take
your bra off," she said knowing we both knew this routine well.
She opened a jar of cream and scooped up some of the pink gel in her
fingers then began rubbing the gel into my breasts, working and kneading
the gel, working it into the jiggly flesh as my nipples became erect in
the cool room air. Agnes smiled at her efforts as she worked and
squeezed my breasts until they tingled from the hormone laced cream and
glistened in the light. She then removed her gloves then switched on the
little suction pump machine then held up the clear plastic globe and
eased it over my left breast. I felt the suction and with the cream
acting as a lubricant felt the suction pull my breast inside and the
globe snug to my chest. The suction continued to pulse until my breast
began to stretch and fill out as it began to fill the globe. Once the
breast was tight and the areolae a dark pink and the nipple stood out
prominent she turned the valve to seal the globe then plugged the clear
plastic suction tube into the remaining globe and repeated the process.
"You're coming along nicely Tiffany, a nice 38"D" cup. If we can get you
to a double-D you won't have to have breast augmentation," she said
excitedly.
After the past six years since moving in with Ned and with all the
hormones and procedures I was now 38-22-38! I had high cheekbones and
the laser electrolysis had effectively removed any trace of my light male
beard so I never had to shave my face ever again now. And my voice was
higher now and more melodic. Even Agnes rarely thought of me as a man
once named Tim anymore.
"So the man dreams again, with you as the man," she sighed as the
tranquilizer stoned me out, getting my mind right. "Remember your
counciling and your therapy now Tiffany, and remember your new lifestyle.
New home in a new town for two years now, nobody has any inkling you were
ever born a man. And that's the way it should be and the way it will
stay. As the second globe sucked tight she turned the valve on that one
too and switched the pump off and took away the plastic hose then looked
me over, my breasts pulled tight within each globe making me appear even
more feminine. "Not much man left from what I can see," Agnes chuckled
with satisfaction as my long eyelashes fluttered. "Isn't that right
princess, hummm?" she added. "Nothing left but a few vague man memories
and even now they've begun to fade haven't they dear? And with a few
more therapy sessions they'll soon be gone forever. How long has it been
since you've worn pants or flat shoes? Five years?" she chuckled.
She then put a white latex glove on her right hand and dabbed some clear
lubricant on her fingers as we waited for my twenty minutes of "globe"
therapy to conclude. She moved me back to my bed and had me lie on my
back then eased the hem of my white full slip up to my waist then pulled
the waistband open on my white, lace trimmed ladies nylon briefs. She
fumbled for a moment then cooed as her index finger and then her middle
finger found the vaginal slit! I squirmed slightly but she continued.
"A bit cool I suppose but it'll warm up sweetie," she assured as she
began fingering me!
Of course she found my clit inside the perfectly sculpted labia outer and
then inner lips. A custom job, complete with female sensations and I
could even lubricate! And for Ned I was now a custom fit for him as
well, a nice sung fit for his pleasure. The orange pill had my head
almost woozy as Agnes continued sliding her fingers in and out, in and
out of my vagina. I unconsciously shivered and then spread my legs
slightly at the sensation. Agnes smiled as she noticed.
And being a woman herself, Agnes knew the score. She continued working
her first two fingers in and out fully now making sure to tease the clit.
"That's it princess, you're getting nice and warm down there now. Mmmmm,
feels so good doesn't it Tiffany dear, so nice and feminine. She kept it
up until I felt my stomach tingle and felt myself tighten up and shiver
momentarily, she heard the feminine gasp at the sensation. She then
finished and removed the glove and as I sat up on the bed she removed the
globes.
"Slip into your white, long leg panty girdle, and I'll pick out a fresh
dress. The ladies are coming over in a while for coffee," she said as a
matter of fact.
'You know Agnes, you've been with us even before we moved here," I
mentioned.
"That's right," she returned as she swished through the closet looking
for another vintage dress for me.
"I mean you live here, you're live in help. Is there something I've done
that has made you dislike me in any way?" I reasoned.
"Not at all. Why would you say that?" she returned. "Ned hired me to
help around the house and see to your needs and, well, that's what I am
doing. Isn't it?"
"I know you've talked to Ned and you've seen me over these past several
years as I've become more and more feminine. But you know my real past,"
I returned.
"Sure I know, I know all about you. And as to your being feminine and
ladylike, well I'm here to help keep you that way too. Of course I don't
have to do that much anymore because being feminine and ladylike is
pretty much second nature to you now," she reasoned. "I just..,"
"You just what?" I asked.
"I just think it's so exciting to actually know a Stepford Wife!" she
giggled.
As I got up from the bed teetering on the high stiletto heels I found a
panty girdle in the dresser then sat back on the bed to wriggle into the
tight garment as Agnes swished over a fresh dress for the afternoon. I
felt the weakness brought on by the orange pill fully now. And here I
was a fully feminized vintage housewife now, nearly an automaton. Living
my day to day life as a woman, being known only as a woman, Mrs. Ned
Hawthorne, and looking and dressing and acting as a woman and only doing
women's things. A vintage girly-girl lady!
The "guy" thoughts and memories returned momentarily as I swished up my
slip and stepped into the tight paneled long legged panty girdle and
began pulling it up my nylon clad legs and then up high and tight on my
waist. But the "guy" thoughts quickly faded in a mental fog, part of the
qualities of the orange pill. I had become a vacant, mincing, limp
wristed priss. In full feminine compliance.
"I...I d...don't like those orange pills Agnes. They make me feel like
I'm in a trance, they confuse my thoughts," I said as she had me step
into the shiny rayon house dress.
"If you don't want to take them it's fine with me," she said as she
zipped me up. "It might be fun to see you off of them for awhile," she
giggled. "They are to be taken along with your therapy sessions to keep
your mind right, to keep your thoughts feminine. But if you'd rather not
take them it's fine with me,"
"But all I do is feminine nowadays, and have been for years," I added.
"From morning till night, each and every day, it's bubble baths, body
waxings, hair sets, makeup, pierced earrings, pearl necklaces, stockings,
garter belts, cinchers, bras, girdles, slips, perfume and high heels and
if it's not a skirt and blouse it's dresses. And then at night it's
frilly vintage ladies lingerie. And then in the morning another bath and
the day begins again. Then during the day I usually change outfits two
or three times. And then I do a bit of knitting and sewing and cooking
and with you doing most of the housework all I do is sit around and look
feminine and ladylike," I said as Agnes chuckled with satisfaction.
"That's just where all you mincing, preening sissy cross dressers need to
be isn't it?" she then blurted out and laughed. "Sickening!"
"It beats being broke and on the street," I returned. She already knew
the story of me sneaking into Ned's house to try on some of the vintage
fashions he'd bought his wife. I couldn't ever figure out why he kept
those vintage women's clothes even after he'd divorced. Turned out that
Ned's wife refused to dress like a 50's June Cleaver around the house.
Then I stumbled in and he'd caught me dressed that day. Instead of
freaking out he began to think. That maybe if no real women would dress
like that anymore maybe what was needed was someone like me. Short and
slight. He then formulated his grand plan. The plan that only Ned and
me and Agnes knew of.
"You wouldn't be living a luxury life but you did have a respectable job
didn't you Tim? But you just weren't man enough to see it through. Just
couldn't resist all those silky ladies things," she smirked and chuckled
again as my head spun. "It was so gratifying when Ned finally talked you
into starting female hormones and then getting your little nuts clipped.
No chance of spreading your sissy-genes now is there," she mocked with
satisfaction, the finality of it all.
"And while we're at it. As ridiculous as it seems, you actually like
women don't you. And Ned? Well, I mean you get along well and he's a
good provider but you only tolerate him isn't that right? You perform
your 'wifely-duties" and your hostess-housewife duties because it's your
new lifestyle. What's it like when he fondles those pretty nylon clad
legs of yours when he holds you and cuddles with you on the couch at
night. Or when he holds you and you swoon in his arms, teetering on your
high stiletto heels when he comes home from work at night and then kisses
you on the lips in a deep French kiss. And in bed at night with you in
your vintage baby doll nighties and your gartered nylons on those smooth
ladylike legs high in the air when he sticks his vein engorged erection
deep inside you?" she then added. "How does it feel when he stretches
your little vagina nice and tight, hummm? I was with Ned a few times
after his divorce and before he met you. But I wasn't interested in such
an overly feminine and vintage lifestyle. I'm glad he found you
princess," she giggled.
I held up my diamond wedding and engagement ring. "I'm still Mrs. Ned
Hawthorne. You can be replaced you know. I can do things by myself or we
can hire another lady to come in."
"Yes, yes you can," Agnes giggled. "And due to Ned having me sign a
total confidentiality agreement I'd have to keep your little secret. And
the next lady you hired would too. But how many real women appreciate
sissy men who've been changed into women? I'm sorry, but not very many.
You'll always be a fraud Tiffany," she scoffed. "But, it is what it is
so we'll just have to continue on, isn't that right Mrs. Hawthorne?
Shall we go now, to set the kitchen table for afternoon tea?" she said as
she led me out of my boudoir of a bedroom. The afternoon went well and
then another three weeks passed.
My "man" dreams became nagging nightmares, my daily life seemed to become
confusing. "I think maybe I'd like another of those orange pills Agnes,"
I said a few days later as I minced into the kitchen and sat at the
kitchen table. I usually patted my hair set with the palm of my hand to
check the curls but now one of the dangling curls was bothering me, I
slapped it away with my fingers.
"Sorry dear, those are gone. The doctor has adjusted your medication
now," she returned. "What's the matter Tiffany. Forgetting your charm-
school lessons. You should be more careful," Agnes cautioned with a
giggle.
I'd been on those orange pills too long, they'd become a crutch. I felt
like an alcoholic that had to have that first shot in the morning just to
think straight. The withdrawal had been subtle but there was something
else. I couldn't focus my thoughts as well now and as time went on I
began to dread Ned's grasping affections. The "man" dreams intensified
as did my attitude.
I began to feel that all the feminine, silky ladies things I wore were
now a mocking bother, a hassle for some reason. It was too involved
getting "dolled" up each and every day and constantly touching up my
makeup or lipstick and my hair set and then changing dresses three times
a day. And the endless salon visits for nails and more curlers and more
plucking had become grating. I then began hating the sight of my ladies
wedding and engagement ring!
I then began noticing Agnes and Ned talking more often and usually alone.
When I'd enter the room to hear snickers or chuckles and see smiles
they'd instantly quiet down and it would once again become business as
usual. Little did I know this was the final stage of Ned's grand plan.
Of course I still took my bi-monthly estrogen injections and those little
pink estrogen pills were by my orange juice every morning at breakfast
but instead of the orange pill that had kept me in a fog there was a
white pill that sat in it's place. And then I finally figured out the
truth while rummaging through the kitchen cupboards one afternoon.
The charm-school lessons had ended long ago and Agnes didn't seem her
usual self in her reminding me to mince and chest out and cross my legs
with a zip. And the feminizing therapy ended as well. The orange pills
were gone but what had altered my thoughts was the little white pill.
Just a trace of the male hormone testosterone was in each one to throw me
mentally off balance! Both Agnes and Ned knew this, as did the doctor.
I'd started out dressing for pleasure, a fetish hobby. I never dressed
all that often but Ned had pulled me in subtly and Agnes had come in
later to "help" me along until, before I knew it I was fully feminized.
The next logical step were the procedures that finished the job.
The "manly" thoughts persisted, especially while dressing in the
mornings. And during the afternoon teas the other neighbor ladies
wondered if something was wrong or if my "marriage" was in trouble. But
I couldn't tell them the truth.
I was icing some cup cakes one afternoon when Agnes entered the kitchen
with a smile and a lilting feminine voice as she looked on. "Such a
lovely dress, and matching shoes Tiffany. Such a lovely lady and so
exquisitely feminine now," she chuckled as I started to swoon, my mind
reeling as I held onto the kitchen counter. And then she produced an
orange pill telling me the white pills were now gone!
The soothing contentment and the full feminine lifestyle returned in
earnest. Tiffany was once again the perfect, doting and exquisitely
feminine housewife. Fully, totally and inescapably immersed in a
feminized lifestyle all to Ned's and Agnes' satisfaction. The plan was
now complete.
Three weeks later it was another tea, at the neighbor's this time.
Tiffany and Agnes were in attendance as usual. And it seemed that
Tiffany had overcome her problem now. No more mood swings, no more
attitude. She'd returned to being the sweet and feminine lady everyone
knew her to be. And so it went, with Tiffany mincing and wiggling around
with her cup cakes and tea as the talks turned to shoes, ladies fashions
and hair sets. Her dress and slips swishing and rustling, her hair set
and makeup and nails flawless, her heels clicking and her nylons zipping
with each step as her floral perfume floated around her. The gloss red
lips slightly parted now into a vacant smile, her eyes wide as she went
about another ladies afternoon!
Lizbeth
- 22.03.2021
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