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CHAPTER ELEVEN Wife and Homemaker Several days passed as Julia continued reordering her marriage, furthering the domination and control over her submissive, his old life fading into the past as she shaped and redefined him to her liking. For Julia, it had become surprisingly easy and natural to treat him with increasing disdain and cruelty with everything she did to him. Eric glanced at the kitchen clock, worried, each minute bringing him closer to what he knew would be a difficult, likely humiliating evening. A guest was coming. Julia had invited her coworker Samantha home for dinner, a meal he was expected to cook and serve. He had known for a few days, but it didn't make it any easier. If anything, it was more difficult. Julia's words, just a few nights before, were a painful reminder of how she felt about him. "I don't think it's too much to ask my wife to help support my career. I've given you plenty of notice. I even picked out the food already. The least you can do is prepare it. I don't expect complaints from you." With that, she had rejected all his concerns about playing hostess for the evening. He couldn't stop thinking about how dismissive and hurtful it had been, the word 'wife' being an especially cruel, unforgettable stab. She had used the word several other times too, making certain to drill in his new status as her wife, making it clear she didn't think of him as a husband anymore, not even a man for that matter. It was a bitter pill to swallow but then everything had gotten worse after the tattoo. Being marked as her property had emboldened her to treat him like some lowly servant or maybe something even worse. In addition to a growing list of household chores, nightly foot rubs had become routine. Shower duties had begun too. He had to bathe her, soaping her up in the shower and wiping her down with a large sponge while she moved under the falling water. Shampooing her long hair and massaging her scalp had quickly followed as did working in conditioners by carefully combing it into her wet, glistening mane. The last couple times she had him service her on his knees too, the shower pouring water over them as she twisted her hands in his hair, painfully directing his mouth to satisfy her lust. He'd simply been used for her pleasure with nothing offered in return. He wasn't even allowed to touch himself with the threat of being put in a cock cage if he dared. It was during the last time he bathed her that she gave him another duty, one involving both of them, one that made him worry deeply about her future plans. He grimaced thinking about it then looked down at the red nail enamel and shinny top coat covering his nails, shaking his head in frustration, hardly believing she was doing this to him. With nail polish, they looked surprisingly and disturbingly feminine. He hated how girly they looked but needed to get used to it because, for now at least, Julia had ordered he do them daily, expecting him to learn how to do her nails by practicing on himself first! He took a deep breath for courage, trying to think of it as just another task, fanning his fingers out, checking each nail for nicks or flaws. They weren't salon perfect by any means but after watching dozens of videos online and spending hours practicing they looked decent. He polished them per Julia's instructions after she left for work, after cleaning up the dishes from breakfast. All the layers were applied as required - under coat, nail color, and shiny top coat. They glistened a bright red, just like Julia's much longer, shaped nails did. Thinking on it, he couldn't recall a single day when Julia's sexy nails weren't some bright hue of red, just another detail she used to heighten her beauty and attractiveness, her sexual power. Oddly, his own nails were giving rise to some peculiar, erotic feeling for some bizarre reason. He clenched his hands into tight fists and tried to dismiss the feeling but it persisted as he caught sight of his pretty thumbs. It was unnerving! He suddenly threw his hands down to his sides, out of sight, feeling ashamed. Was he getting turned on by his own polished nails or was it being forced by Julia to polish them!? Either way, it seemed shameful. He just wanted Julia to get home to inspect the work as soon as possible, only then was he allowed to remove the polish. He certainly didn't want fingers smelling like nail polish remover when Samantha arrived for dinner. Upset, he retreated to his computer and just stared at it for a bit trying to clear his head, each heart beat throbbing at his temples, punctuating one dark thought after another. He powered up the computer and quickly jumped into his game, hoping to hide from the real world with all it's problems for a time, just like he had for so many months before Julia caught him in all the lies. The moment his avatar came into view he smiled. He must have spent hundreds upon hundreds of hours playing as a muscle bound hero able to smite the enemies around him like gnats. If only the real world was so easy to master, he thought. At first, the game seemed to be calming his jangled nerves, it was something else to focus on, a place where he was powerful and in control of the world around him. Dozens of foes were dispatched in a small number of key presses and mouse clicks, group after group, before he ran up to another group to repeat the carnage. He fell into the rhythm of the game for a time and everything was good. But it didn't last long. Worries and fears crept in slowly at first and began to take over. He couldn't stop from glancing down to his shiny, red nails either, finding them too difficult to reconcile with the manly avatar on the screen, it was distracting and annoying. After a bit, it was just too much to deal with entirely. He quit playing and exited the game, even more upset than before he started. He sat there for a time just staring at the screen, lamenting his situation, trying to puzzle out what to do next to make things better somehow. Then the screensaver winked in and his mouth dropped open. To his horror, they were pictures of his tattoo! He was stunned! Julia! She must have put them there. Eric's face soured as one image after another slid into view, every picture Julia took had to be there! If she sent those pictures to friends or posted them online... He'd be a laughing stock! Panicking, he slammed his fist into the keyboard to stop the slide show then stood up, chair flying back, ready to smash the monitor into the wall. He stood there trembling instead, feeling stupid and alone. Somehow, he had hoped things would get better, at least manageable - they weren't. He was in trouble, deep trouble. Julia wasn't going to give up control, that was made very clear, but maybe she could be talked into being a tiny bit more reasonable, a little more compassionate. He had to try something. But, he didn't know how to even broach 'being reasonable' to Julia. He needed another perspective, new ideas, something... Julia still had his cellphone but they had a home phone and he had contacts on the computer; it didn't take long to get the number. He didn't even want to consider how embarrassing and difficult the call would be. He took a deep breath trying to calm down. Desperation was closing in as rapidly as his old life was disappearing. Anything was worth trying. He punched in the number, crossing his polished fingers for luck, as he tapped the last button, furrowing his brow as the line began ringing. His heart skipped a beat when his sister answered her phone. "Julia, what can I do for you?" Emily answered cheerily. For a moment the greeting startled him until he realized that Julia's name must have come up in caller ID. He felt all the more invisible and irrelevant, lost behind Julia's shadow. "Em, it's me, Eric." His voice sounded a bit shaky. "Eric?!" she said, sounding surprised. "Yeah, Em. I'm... umm... at home... still at the apartment, on the... home phone," Eric said. Emily didn't reply, only background noise from her office. "Em? You there?" he asked. "You're not... mad at me are you?" "What can I do for you little brother?" she asked simply after a couple long, uneasy seconds. "Well, I... I'm sorry I hung up on you last time, Em. I was just-" "That's fine. I'm not mad at you," she said stiffly, interrupting him. "Now, what can I do for you?" "Well... it's just... EM," Eric started, more nervous than he thought he would be, "I need some advice... some help. I just..." His voice trailed off as he fought to stay calm. "This is about Julia again, right?" she asked matter-of-factly. Eric was silent, ashamed to admit how weak he had become. "I appreciate that you feel you can come to me with your relationship issues, little brother, but honestly I'm not sure what I can do for you," Emily said. "For starters, it's clear you didn't take my advice last time you called me. Right? I told you to leave, didn't I?" "Yes." "But you didn't leave, did you? You're still there, aren't you?" she asked rhetorically. "Em... I... Yes. I'm still here, still with Julia," he said. "I tried to leave, really I did. I'd packed my bags and everything. I was ready to go. Then..." "Then what? What happened?" "She came home early and I..." Eric bit his lip at the memory of begging Julia to let him stay, the weakness and yearnings he felt in front of her. Emily just wouldn't understand the power Julia held over him, just looking at her made him weak in the knees. "I just couldn't leave her, Em." The line went quiet again, only background noises of people moving about and a few women talking in the distance. "Em? Please? I need help," he said. "You don't know what she's done to me," he almost whispered, the words trailing off as he remembered the pain of the tattoo and all the humiliations which followed. "Done to you?" Emily asked, sounding skeptical. It was Eric's turn to remain silent as his hand reached around to touch his back. "Eric, what are you talking about? What did Julia do to you?" "I don't want to talk about it, not that anyway. I just-" "Why don't you want to talk about it?! Why did you call me if you don't want to talk about it? What did she do?" "It's too embarrassing, Em. I don't..." He let his voice trail off again as he bit his lip, struggling to maintain his composure. How do you tell your sister that the woman you married tattooed you as a piece of property? "Did she hurt you somehow?" "No, Em. She didn't hit me or anything, nothing like that. I think I could have actually left if she had done that," he said. "She..." "Come on, Eric. I can't help you if I don't know what she did," Emily insisted. He took a couple deep breaths while his heart pounded like drums in his ears. "She made me get a tattoo," he spat out. "A tattoo?" "Yes!" "She made you get a tattoo?" "Yes!" "Of what? Where?" "I'd rather not say." The line went quiet for a bit, each moment only serving to build his anxiety while Emily considered his situation. This wasn't going like he hoped. Maybe he shouldn't have told her about the tattoo. It just came out. Hopefully, she could see the injustice and find a way help. She just had to. "Well, I don't know, Eric. I'm not really so sure that's all that unusual." "What!?" he shouted in dismay. "You don't understand," he insisted. "I guess not," she replied calmly. "Honestly, I think you might be overreacting." He began pacing back and forth, waiting for her to show some sympathy, show some glimmer of concern over what Julia had done, his heart pounding all the louder as he waited. "She tattooed her name on me, Em!" he finally blurted out in frustration. "What?!" "She took me to a tattoo shop and had her name tattooed on me!" Eric said indignantly. "By a woman artist no less! While other women in the shop watched me getting inked!" The words were tumbling out now as his cheeks starting to sting from the shame of it. He wanted his sister to feel the outrage and humiliation burning inside him. "She practically forced me into it!" Emily didn't respond right away, Eric only heard more office noise and more women chatting in the distance as his distress and agitation grew. "Did they tie you down or anything?" she finally asked with a touch of amusement in her voice. "No!" Eric admitted. "So, if you wanted, you could have left? Just gotten up and walked out?" she asked. Eric didn't want to answer. Emily was quiet. She'd made her point - he let it happen. He could have left the shop but he didn't. He shook his head in frustration, feeling stupid for having brought it up. At least it was out there, what Julia was capable of, maybe that was good. He had to take some solace in that. "Look, okay, just forget about the tattoo then! And don't mention it to anybody okay? I just... I need some help! I need to get Julia to listen to me again! You can help with that. Right? Maybe give me... a woman's perspective? Something? Because, I'm lost here. She won't listen to me about anything anymore!" Eric waited, listening intently, hoping Emily would give him something to cling to, some womanly wisdom. Instead, it sounded like she was typing away on a keyboard, like she was too busy to even be bothered with him. "Em??!" he shouted in a near panic. "Sorry, Eric," she responded somewhat detached. "You did call me at the office. Just give me a second. I have to update somebody on a... project." The typing continued as Eric waited, frustrated at being marginalized by another woman with a job. "Sorry, Eric. I think she has what she needs now. You were saying Julia doesn't listen to you anymore?" she asked calmly. Eric took a deep breath, trying to calm down, Emily's casual summary a disturbing oversimplification. "Em, my whole world is upside down." He struggled to keep his emotions in check. "I don't feel like I have control over my own life anymore," he insisted. "She's done things to me, Em. I can't even imagine what's next but... I know she has plans. I need to get through to her. I need..." "Okay, Eric," she said calmly. "I think, I can help." "Really?" "Yes, but you need to calm down first. Okay?" He nodded, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay, Okay," he said trying to spin back down. It had been impossibly difficult trying to confront Julia or get some measure of control back. Finally, there was an ally to help. "I know change can be very hard, Eric," she said. Eric nodded, trying to steel himself for what he would have to do to confront Julia. "But, you're going to need to accept something. I don't think you're going to like this but you need to hear it," she said. "You ready?" "Yes. I'm ready," he said nervously. "Okay, listen closely, here it is - accept your situation and do whatever Julia tells you to do." Eric's mouth dropped open. This wasn't what he expected or wanted at all! It was exactly the opposite! "But-" "But nothing," Emily said, cutting off the objection. "Don't you see, Eric? Some part of you really wants a woman like Julia to dominate you. You need it. You wouldn't be where you're at if you didn't. Your actions prove it. You just don't want to admit it because you're embarrassed." Eric was dazed by his sister's conclusions. It was nearly the same thing Julia had said to him earlier but this time from his own sister! "No, Em. You don't really mean that," he insisted, his voice wavering. "I do mean it, Eric, every word," she said with resolve. "Em... I... don't know what to say," he admitted with a confused, worrisome expression twisting across his face. "I don't understand. You told me to leave her before." "Well, that's right, I did," she said thoughtfully. "But, you didn't do what I told you. Don't you see? You don't really want to leave or you would have. You could have stopped Julia but you want to be in the situation you're in," she said succinctly. "You're causing yourself untold grief by fighting it. Just accept that you want to be dominated by Julia. You can't help yourself. It's in your nature. Maybe it's in the nature of most men for all I know. Listen to me and do what I tell you this time - crawl to Julia on your hands and knees, beg to kiss her feet, and do whatever she tells you from now on." "B... But-". "It's where you belong!" Emily snapped. Eric scrunched up his face, cringing, his sister's words echoing in his mind, tearing at him like vultures, ripping away at what was left of his manhood, pecking it to the bones. The phone slipped from his hands and bounced on the floor. He stared at it through bleary eyes. Was that where he truly belonged, on the floor at Julia's feet? He remembered what it was like to be on his knees before her, looking up as she towered over him, reigning over him as the dominant, superior woman she was. He imagined what it might be like to crawl to her feet, just as his sister suggested, to plant soft kisses on her toes, to do it with reverence. Was that the fantasy of a submissive, he wondered. He dropped to his knees to pickup the phone. Emily was typing again. He waited until she finished, feeling shattered inside as a few quiet tears ran down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Emily," he said contritely, quavering. "I... dropped the phone." "It's okay, Eric. Don't feel too bad. I'm sure this is a very confusing time for you. You called me looking for help, which I gave you, but I'm sure it's not what you wanted to hear," she said. "It's okay if you're disappointed but I told you the truth. You're twisting yourself into knots for no good reason. The answer has been in front of you the entire time. You have to be brave enough to grab it and accept it. Listen to me this time." "I'll... think about what you said," he replied soberly, feeling lower inside than ever before. "I hope you will. It's for your own good." Eric just nodded as he wiped the wetness from his face. "Good luck, little brother," she said cheerily, then hung up. Eric sat there on the floor for a time, wounded, numb, trying to think of nothing at all for a time, trying to find some type of balance again. Then the phone started screeching, desperate to be returned to its cradle, rousing him out of a reverie. He struggled back to his feet unsteadily, sliding up the wall, and hung up the phone, stopping momentarily to stare at the unfamiliar sight of his colorful nails against the ivory handset. He jerked his hand away, shaking his head in frustration. As much as he wanted to deny everything Emily said he just couldn't. Maybe, just maybe, she was right. He began obsessing over it, trying to find himself again. In the end, all that seemed to matter was Julia. He wasn't a man to her anymore. He was a homemaker, her wife, and property! Julia balanced a bag of groceries on her hip as she opened the apartment door. It was going to be interesting to see how good Eric was at being a hostess for the evening. She resolved to send him to cooking classes for future dinners then grinned at the notion of enrolling him in a finishing school. Maybe he could even be taught to curtsy, she thought with a snicker. Walking towards the kitchen, she began scanning the apartment. From casual inspection, the place looked immaculate. Eric had learned his cleaning lessons well and was finally becoming a fairly competent house keeper. Dropping the groceries on the kitchen table, she smiled with satisfaction at how well the kitchen looked. A grimace briefly intruded as she recalled all the pointless battles over the dishes, back when she was ignorant of her power, then quickly twisted into a thin, cruel smile looking at the now spotless, gleaming sink. Being a dominant woman clearly had advantages. Looking for her weak, little submissive, Julia walked to the back of the apartment, to the computer room, then came to an immediate and abrupt stop, shocked at what she saw. Eric was sitting in front of the computer, hunched over, cradling his head with prettily painted fingers, sobbing, while images of his tramp stamp flashed by overhead. He was completely unaware of her, lost in grief. She could hardly believe what she was watching. His shoulders shook with a wrenching depth of sorrow as he continued to sob. It was disturbing enough, the grief so deep, she began feeling empathy towards him. She wriggled her shoulders and sighed at the intrusive feeling. Eric quickly twisted around, alerted by the sound. His face was wet and stained with tears as he tried to mouth something. The words came out weak, inaudible. Julia shook her head, unable to make sense of it. "I'm sorry," he mouthed, the simple words coming out strained and breathy. "About what?" she asked, genuinely confused. "Everything," he said simply, shaking his head, looking towards the ground. Julia's eyes narrowed as the empathy began to fade. "It's just hard for me," he complained. "I was brought up thinking a man was supposed to... take charge. Lead. Be in control. Take care... of my wife, provide for her." He shrugged his shoulders. "That's the stuff I was taught to be, what I had to be, to be a man... to be worth something." He looked up towards Julia, daring to meet her eyes, shaking his head. "But, I'm none of that," he said with a quaver, searching her face for some sympathy. Julia looked back at him sitting there in misery, fully aware that she had the power to comfort him, to throw a life line to his shattered ego and rescue what was left of the old Eric. She smiled to herself. She wasn't about to rescue the worm. "No, you're not any of those things. You can't provide for yourself, let alone provide for me. Men don't grovel like you! Men don't wear nail polish like you. Truthfully, by your thinking, you're not a man at all," she said, the accusation landing like a whip to his back. Eric's head dropped. He couldn't bear to look her in the eyes any longer. She watched him agonize over failure, taking perverse delight in his struggle. She took a few steps forward, closing in on him, towering over Eric's hunched frame, gratified that fate had made her a woman and not some worm of a man like the wretch before her. "I want you to stop resisting me and accept your new life," she said. He nodded, feebly. "I'm serious. If you're really sorry, if you want to redeem yourself with me, I expect total, complete and swift compliance with everything I tell you to do. And I mean everything!" Eric sat there, nearly motionless, trying to accept his fate. "I told you before that this is a female lead marriage. You accepted that, agreed to it!" He nodded his head. "Didn't I tell you that your place was at my feet?" He nodded. "Then why are you sitting in that chair?!" He glanced up to see the unmistakable resolve in her eyes then quickly tumbled forward, out of the chair, to the floor. He crawled forward as his sister had suggested earlier then bent his forehead down to her shoes. Julia stared down at him grinning, the heat between her thighs growing, dampening her panties with the excitement and power she felt. "From now on, whenever I come home, I want you to greet me on your knees. Do you understand?!" "Yes, Julia," he said, somehow feeling gratitude for her dominance and commands. He hated it and loved it and wanted more, terrified by his increasingly twisted nature. "From now on, you obey me without hesitation! Do you understand?!" He nodded, shocked at the prospect, frightened at how easy it was for him to agree. "You can stop worrying about being a man. Don't let it bother you anymore. I told you before, you can think of yourself as my wife and a homemaker. That's what you are now! Not a man! I expect you to embrace it!" Looking pathetic, he raised his head from her shoes a few inches and, not knowing what to do, raised up a hand to ask a question. "What?!" Julia responded, irritated. "I'm thinking I... you said before... it was okay for me to look for a job. So-" "No! That part of your life is over now!" she said resoundingly. "I told you before that I wanted you to be a full-time homemaker. Now, I'm demanding it. That's what you are from now on - a homemaker. No more debate." "But-" "No! A job outside our home isn't an option for you any longer. You're silly little job search is over. In fact, you're going to delete everything you're using for job hunting, all your accounts on job sites, emails, resumes, everything. You don't need any of them anymore," she said. Eric was petrified. With a simple pronouncement, every plan he'd ever had for his life was wiped away. Gone. "Wife and homemaker - that's you," she said. "If you can't remember it, I'll have that tattooed on you too so you can't forget. Where shall we put it? Your wrists perhaps? Maybe across your chest?" He didn't say a word, certain she might do it. "Now, tell me what you are!" she demanded. Eric lowered his head back to the floor, the scent of warm leather mixing with the odor of the carpet. What was he becoming!? What would she do if he disobeyed!? "I'm your...," he started, not wanting to say the rest, but fear making it tumble out anyway, "wife and homemaker." His cock twitched in response. Julia curled her lips in triumph. "Kiss my feet, wife," she commanded. He pursed his lips and kissed her instep and then the tops of her toes where they went into the shoe, sweet tow cleavage, her other foot quickly followed, soft, gentle kisses, each one making his cock ache a little more with need. "Good, Eric. Good. Keep kissing them," she said. "Do my ankles too, up to the knee." She watched him applying one soft kiss after another as he worked his way up, her panties slowly getting damper as he paid homage to her. Dominating the little worm was a heady aphrodisiac. "I hope you realize this changes everything. Now that your our full-time homemaker... we can consider children. I can have a baby now," she said. The kisses slowed as he listened more closely. "Of course, 'mothering' would be added to your list of job duties," she said. He stopped kissing and froze. "Are you ready to be a mother to our daughter?" she asked. "Mother? A daughter? I-". "Of course, a daughter. Actually, twin girls would be ideal," she enthused. "That's all the babies I think I'd ever want. Two new lives to carry on for us in this world." Eric rolled back on his knees, keeping his eyes to the floor. He looked troubled, like he wanted to ask something but was struggling for the words. Julia could practically read his mind. "Yes, I do mean daughters, if that's what's troubling you. Why would I burden a child of mine with... maleness?" she said with disdain. "Besides, I intend to leave the world a little better place if I can - that means properly educated girls." Eric nodded subtly. Julia watched him for a few moments deal with the reality of not being allowed a son, of being the only male in a family of females. She let him brood over his future for a bit, allowing the silence to settle around them before teasing out the next part. "There's a medical group..." she started. His eyes went wide in surprise, a chill suddenly creeping into his bones. "They can make sure we only have girls," she announced. "So if you were thinking we might have a boy, forget it. Furthermore, you don't get a say - it's my womb." He stared off into the distance trying to process what she said. With every turn, something else was being taken away, altered by Julia to some female dominant alternative. It was a daunting reality but instead of warning him away the danger made it more exciting, deepening the erotic thrill of surrender, broadening the addiction to her. She so wanted to tell him that the medical group was going to make sure he'd be needing a bra long before their daughters would, that he'd be lactating for them, but it still felt risky, she wanted to be sure he was fully under her control first. "I hope you truly understand everything I'm telling you. The life you knew as a man is over," she said. "You're going to be my little, agreeable, submissive wife from now on. My full-time homemaker, fully dependent on me financially and every other way possible," she said with zeal. "And you're going to mother my daughters too." Eric slowly raised his head and looked into Julia's eyes and quickly averted away knowing she meant every word. "I told you I had plans for you," she said. He took a deep, fitful breath to gather some courage. "Please be kind to me," he said softly. "Please... I really want to be with you. I want you happy, I do. It's just a lot for me. I... Please be patient with me while I figure it all out. Please?" Julia looked at the man she once respected with utter contempt. He'd become such a pathetic, begging, little worm. "Awe, poor, Eric." She grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "I have news for you. I'm going to be cruel to you. I'm going to change you in ways you can't imagine right now. And honestly... I haven't even figured out all the things I want to do with you yet, how far I want to take this." She sneered wickedly at him, her eyes glazing over for a moment as she lost herself to sadistic visions of possible futures. "It'll be interesting to see how you turn out when I'm done with you." The hair on the back of Eric's neck stood up. He was terrified but still tremendously excited, his cock straining in his pants for release. "Only one thing can save what's left of you but you already failed at that once - find the strength to leave me. I won't try to stop you. In fact, I won't ever force you to do anything," she said, giving Eric some sense of relief, then painfully taking it away just as quickly. "But, I will demand obedience if you want to stay with me. Otherwise, I'll kick your sorry ass out and you'll lose me forever. It's up to you." She released his hair with a sneer. "Now, lick my heels! Accept what you've become! Submit!" Eric was wide-eyed and petrified. Julia angrily jerked a pointed finger towards her stilettos. "Crawl, lick my heels! Don't miss any spots either!" Eric swallowed hard as a tingle ran up his back. Moving slowly at first, head down, he did as he was told, crawling between her legs, face to the floor, then began licking as she demanded. It started out slow. The taste was stale, a bit bitter and foul. He didn't want to believe he was doing it but he was, each stroke of the tongue making the next easier. What was she moulding him into!? It didn't seem to matter. Grit made it's way into his mouth but he kept licking, first the spike to the right, then the other, and back again. It was foul but he licked for all he was worth until both thin, black spikes glistened. Then he inched back, suppressing a dry heave from what he had just done. He took a deep breath trying to calm himself, then carefully backed away to kneel before her, gently kissing the top of each foot, hoping to placate her. Julia looked down at him with a suspicious but satisfied smile, enjoying the sour expression plastered across his lips. "Not bad, worm. You'll get better with practice," she said. Eric attempted to smile, embracing the words like praise. "If you're a good boy tonight, maybe I'll let you lick something else later," she said. The very notion thrilled him to the core - he'd be used, on his knees or back, forced to satisfy her womanhood, unable to satisfy his own needs, but it still thrilled him. "You have other work to do right now though. I left everything you'll need to make dinner tonight in the kitchen. The recipe is with it. Get started," she said gesturing towards the kitchen. He got up slowly, staring at the incredible beauty before him, still in turmoil over what she had just made him do yet ready to serve her in the kitchen. He held out his hands towards her, hoping to get permission to use the remover after inspection. Julia looked annoyed. "You need to get dinner started! Now, get going!" she commanded. "But, my nails need to be-" "I'm not interested in them now. I'll look at them later. Maybe that'll give you some incentive to work on dinner. Now do what I said, get going!" He sped out of the room and towards the kitchen, his girly hands leading the way. "Don't disappoint me tonight," he heard her yell over his shoulder. "Sam better love your cooking!" Worry settled in as he quickly unpacked the groceries and began reading the recipe Julia had printed out. He winced looking at his nails, shaking his head in frustration over the whole situation. He needed to do well tonight. Julia needed to be happy. He groaned inside thinking like that but keeping her happy was important. Julia casually walked into the bedroom and began looking though her closet for an outfit for the evening as Eric began preparing dinner. After a time, she picked out a sleeveless white blouse and paired it with a simple black skirt, an understated but pretty outfit when properly accessorized with pearls and an elegant pair of black pumps. A wicked, self-satisfying smile settled onto Julia's face as she slipped off her dress from the day, thinking about the evening ahead. She walked over to the vanity and gazed into the mirror, pleased at how well she looked in a simple bra and panties, looking forward to dominating and humiliating Eric in front of Samantha, showing her how far she had evolved as a dominant woman. It would be an emasculating evening for her worm, all the more priceless because she had decided to keep him in nail polish all night long! The thought made her feel naughty, bad. She giggled thinking about how panicked Eric was going to be, still wearing nail polish when Samantha arrived. Aroused by everything she had set in motion, she traced an index finger over her bra, slowly, luxuriating in the sensation as she watched herself in the mirror. Hopefully, soon, he would accept anything she demanded. The very notion of having so much power over some male made her swoon. She bit her lip at the notion, the heat and dampness in her panties growing the more she thought about the abuse Eric would suffer. She squeezed her thighs together, leaning against the vanity, as a soft moan escaped her lips, imagining what Eric was going to look like with boobs, first small ones, then larger, and still larger after that as she ripped away his masculinity. She was really going to do it to him - ruin him as a man, feminize her pathetic submissive, turn him into a obedient servant, maybe even a willing slave. She gasped at the thought as she ran a finger along her hungry cleft and began rubbing it, pushing her wet panties inside as deep as they'd go, her face turning flush in the mirror. It wasn't enough and soon nimble fingers slid inside the waistband to stroke her little nub, to dream about the future with a compliant, feminized male. The intensity increased as her other hand slid inside her bra to tug at stiffening nipples. She kept teasing them, first one, then the other while the pace increased. Her plans were so wicked! Eric with huge... womanly... milk laden breasts, soaking his bra while he cried over losing his manhood! A moment later she bit her lip to keep from screaming, moaning as a sweet climax washed through her, rocking her pelvis as she collapsed onto the vanity! When it finally subsided her hand was soaked with her own nectar. "Julia?" Eric yelled from the kitchen. "Making good progress with dinner. Do you think we can have the nail inspection now?" "No!" she yelled back. "Finish dinner! Stop bothering me!" Eric asked a couple more times as the evening wore on, desperate to remove the polish before their guest arrived. Julia continued to refuse him, with as little as a shake of the head and a bemused smile. Finally, as she was refreshing her lipstick, Eric shuffled timidly into the bedroom and dropped to his knees to beg. "Am I being punished?" he asked, holding out his fingers towards her. Julia shook her head, arching an eyebrow in surprise at the question. Eric looked so frustrated and confused over something so ordinary to her it was almost comical. "I don't feel comfortable," he began. "Not with other people, not with nail polish on me. I... please... I promise I'll practice... watch videos, whatever it takes. I want to do your nails for you. Really I do. Guys just don't... it's not right. I'm not a... pansy. I..." His face contorted as he sought more words to plead with but his mouth just hung open, voiceless. "You don't seem to get it, Eric. Stop your whining. Stop thinking of yourself as a man! You never were much of one anyway," she said. "Start thinking of yourself as my wife! A woman! Why worry so much about nail polish?" Eric looked gobsmacked, his mouth hanging open in shock, trying to figure out something to say. Then, the doorbell rang.