My New Life 9 free porn video

My New Life, a story by Dee Ramone © D. Ramone 2018 My New Life is an erotic novel by D. Ramone featuring themes of chastity and cross-dressing and descriptions of sexually explicit acts which those of a sensitive nature may find not to their tastes. It is not suitable for such readers nor for anyone considered a minor by the authorities in their country of residence. My New Life is entirely a work from Dee Ramone and any similarities to places or people, either living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The names of all individuals in this story have been changed to protect their identities. My New Life (and how I came to accept it). Part 9 I was devastated on Thursday night when Lisa phoned to tell me that she to fly out to the far east on business. Only a week before she had given me the choice of how I was to be punished for my attempt to get out of my chastity cage. Perhaps I should have chosen a sound spanking. At least that would have gotten my punishment over with. Sure, I might have been sore for a day or two, but at least I could have had sex with Lisa afterward. Or perhaps I should have been a little braver and taken a full day in bondage. True Lisa was very accomplished when it came to bondage. And I know that she could have tied me in any number of ways that would have seen me helpless for as long as she decided to keep me like that. But, like an idiot or coward or both, I elected to stay in chastity for another week. By remaining in chastity, I reasoned, I would be showing Lisa that I was willing to maintain her gift, so to speak. I would also be able to hold her, to touch her, and even make love to her. All right I would not be able to have sex myself, but I could be with Lisa in every other way for the three days we were to be together. She had to return home on the Sunday night but, for the three days she was there, I managed to give her countless orgasms with my fingers and tongue. Also, while we had been out shopping Lisa had bought herself a vibrator and she seemed to take great delight in instructing me how to use it on her. She also said that I should this particular vibrator in my bedside draws for when she came to stay. And to buy some additional batteries. Which also made me wonder if she was leaving it there because I wasn't going to be getting out of my cage anytime soon and the vibrator was just there to torment me. A reminder of what I was missing out on, if you like. Now she was telling me that our plans for me to go up and visit her had to be put off for another week because a business trip had come up. Sure, I understood that she ran her own company and that at times, the business had to come first. But that didn't change the fact that I was to be locked in that damn chastity cage for another week. And that was assuming that she could get everything sorted out in a week. I began to look at the chastity cage anew. It was one of the polycarbonate type cages. Shaped to resemble a flaccid penis. The main ring that went behind my balls and around my shaft was thick and quite sturdy. And the tube, while tight around my shaft to prevent me touching or stimulating my penis in any way, was only attached to the ring by a single, center pin with a small lock through it. Looking at it I persuaded myself that, if I was careful, I could cut through the pin easily. There were two other pins between the ring and tube, but they were there as guides and to stop the two from becoming miss- aligned. So, there I was, sitting on the edge of the bed after my shower, and considering my chastity cage and the best method of removing it. And once the cage was off I would be able to masturbate to my heart's content. Of course, masturbating would be all I would be doing from then on. Because, while Lisa had never said it in so many words, if I cut the chastity cage off, then that would be the end of Lisa and me. Consequently, as much as I wanted to masturbate, as much as I needed some form of sexual relief and satisfaction, did I want to lose a life with Lisa just to jerk off. No, I told myself. Lisa was worth far more than a quick one off the wrist. Putting aside any thoughts of cutting the cage off I began to get ready for bed. I moisturized my skin, make especially sure to pay particular attention to my legs that I had just shaved again. It was crazy. A few weeks ago, I would never have even thought about such things like exfoliating my skin or wearing lingerie every day. I had even gotten into the habit of wearing skirts at home all the time, along with heels so that I might practice walking in a more "ladylike" fashion. Even as I was thinking about this I was looking down at my bed where a lovely new Teal nightdress with matching G-string panties were waiting for me to put them on. Lisa had bought it for me on Saturday when we went shopping. I had taken her to the lingerie store that Elaine had shown me. Lisa loved it, and the fantastic selection that they had there. She had bought herself a few things and, I was sure it was just to embarrass me, she also bought me two new nightdresses. After stepping into the panties and drawing them up my legs, I felt the way the string slipped between my buttock and how the front barely covered my chastity cage. I lifted the gossamer thin nightdress over my head and let it fall gracefully over my smooth body. It was strange, but climbing into bed that night I felt a miscellany of emotions that simply could not be reconciled. I felt frustrated, from a need for sexual relief, but also content that Lisa cared enough for me to jealously guard my manhood all for herself. I felt ridiculous in dressing up every day in lingerie but comforted by the soft, refined touch of silk and lace against my sensitive flesh. I felt ludicrous practicing applying the makeup that Lisa had me buy, but I also felt, loved, would be the only word for it, as I made myself into a pretty girl for Lisa. I had been tired when I had gone to bed but, realizing what I was thinking, I was suddenly very awake. Was it really true? Was I really making myself into a pretty girl for Lisa? I mean, looking at me then, in a nightdress, or watching me put on my makeup and dress in lingerie and skirts as I worked on the latest translation, anybody would think I wanted to be a woman. I didn't, at least I hadn't until I had met Lisa. But I was under some sort of spell, some witchcraft, that she had cast over me. But, as I shifted in bed, and felt the thrill of my silk nightdress gliding effortlessly over my smooth body, I didn't want to come out from under that spell. Never in a million years could I have imagined that such a thought would have passed through my mind but, if Lisa wanted me to be her male girlfriend, I would be the prettiest girl I could possibly be. I drifted off into a contented sleep that night and in that sleep, I dreamt a strange dream. I saw myself in a mirror, but it was myself as I had never seen before. I had long flowing auburn hair. My face was made-up perfectly, with pastel shades around my eyes and cherry red lipstick on my lips. Stepping back from the mirror I could see that I was wearing a tight black cocktail dress. I had large breasts, not ridiculously large, but prominent, well-proportioned breasts that were emphasized by the narrowness of my waist and the flare of my rounded hips. The dress was short and revealed a good amount of my shapely legs from above mid-thigh down to my well-turned ankles. My shoes were open-toed sandals with heel much taller than anything I had walked in thus far. As I was admiring myself in the mirror I saw Lisa walking up behind me. I turned towards her and we kissed. And the kiss felt so wonderful because somehow, I knew in my dream that Lisa both loved me, and endorsed the woman I had become. Next, Lisa had me face the mirror again. Instinctively I knew to lift my long hair up and out of the way. As I did, Lisa placed a silver band around my neck. But the band was not a neckless, it was a solid silver collar that she locked at the rear. Lowing my hair, I let my hand drift to the ring at the front of the collar and smiled at my reflection as I toyed with it. Lisa then placed her hands on mine as she slowly drew my hands behind my back. I felt the cold steel close around my wrists and herd the click as the handcuffs locked into place. But I didn't feel any fear. Rather I felt happy to be Lisa's prisoner. The dream changed then. We were not in front of a mirror, but walking down a street. Lisa was in front of me, walking proudly and leading me by a chain that was clipped to my collar. There were hundreds of people on the street, and all of them were looking at us and talking. But I didn't understand what they were saying. Strangely I didn't feel ashamed. I felt proud that I was chained to the wrist of such a beautiful woman, and honored to be her slave. The pain in my groin woke me up. During the dream, I had been trying to get an erection and that had caused the chastity cage to begin pulling on my balls. But, getting up, I noticed that the front of my panties was wet. Somehow, even with a tight chastity cage locked around my manhood, I had ejaculated in my dream. Getting out of bed I changed my panties and placed the soiled pair in my laundry hamper. While doing that I was trying to think of the last time I'd had a wet-dream. And honestly, it was so long ago in my teens that I really couldn't remember it. Climbing back into bed my dream kept replaying in my head. I started to wonder if become a woman was really what I wanted. Yes, I enjoyed the thrill of wearing women's clothes. They felt so much nicer, sexier even, than men's clothes. And I loved the feeling of having perfectly smooth skin. Whenever Lisa touched me it felt like heaven and far more sensitive than when I had hair. Not that everything about being a woman was wonderful. Walking in high heels was a pain, and my toes often felt cramped while the tendons in my ankles ached. Wearing stockings felt sublime and made my legs look sexy but, after wearing them all day, the backs of my legs, especially behind my knees, itched terribly at times. But I suppose that there is good and bad with everything. I just had to figure out if I was prepared to put up with the bad to get the good that was being Lisa male girlfriend. But, in recalling my dream, I also realized that the people on the street had been speaking Italian. That was why I didn't understand them at first. It often happens even when you speak another language that, if you are not ready for it, your brain doesn't quite understand it. It's sort of like you haven't switched over a switch or something. Thinking about that lead me to think about something else. Had my dream been prompted by the book I was currently translating. Was the story of Giacinta transition coloring my thoughts? And if so, to what effect? Or was it just serendipity that I should be translating Giacinta's story while starting my own transition. A transition that admittedly I never realized I wanted until I met Lisa. For the remainder of the week, I fell into a routine. Each morning I would shower, checking myself carefully for any signs of hair. I would shave, twice, just so that my skin was as smooth as it could be. Then I would moisturize before putting on my makeup. Afterward, I would return to the bedroom and put on my stockings, suspenders, and panties. I had started doing a little online shopping and by then had a few different skirts and blouses to pick from. Once dressed, I would put on my wedged heels sandals, which I had bought for in the house. They had two and a half inch heels which gave me practice at walking in heels without being too uncomfortable to wear all day. Then a light breakfast, after which I would hand wash yesterday's lingerie that I would hang in the bathroom, before getting down to do some work. Only once did I have to change my routine and that was when Elaine got stuck on something she was translating. She asked if she might call around, as she had often done in the past, and it would seem unfriendly of me if I refused her. It did, however, mean I had to wash off my makeup and change my clothes. But Elaine was a good friend, and honestly one of the few true friends I had. So, it seemed like a small price to pay. If anybody has ever used Google Translate or Babblefish you very quickly will learn that translation is not just about changing the words. There is a lot more to translation than just words. Language is about more than the words themselves, it's about how the words are used and the inflections on the words. And because I had more experience than Elaine with the romantic languages, French and Italian, that is why she would always give me a call if she ever got stuck. Elaine arrived around lunch time so, after a bit to eat, we got down to work. I quickly read through her work, and the passage she had been translating, and really couldn't find any errors. Though I have to say that the book Elaine was working on was some pretty heavy BDSM stuff. But, as we talked about it afterward, I quickly realized that Elaine wanted to talk about more than just her work. Several times, while we were talking, she dropped some non-too subtle hints that she wanted to know more about Lisa, and how our relationship was going. Finally, I just put her work aside and asked her outright what the real reason was that she had come over. I am open to hearing anybody's opinion as to why nosy people always begin with "It's none of my business, but." And that was pretty much how Elaine began. Not that I am saying Elaine was being nosy. She was, I am just not saying. We talked for quite a while. Elaine meant well, I was sure. And she appeared to be sincerely concerned for my welfare. I could see her point that in any relationship based on a dominant/submissive dynamic there is always a potential for abuse. Often in such a relationship the abused is the last to see it. I assumed, from what she said, that Elaine was worried that I might be the abused part. It was difficult to find the right words to explain to Elaine that at no time had I felt in the least abused. Lisa had been up-front about the type of relationship she wanted. And several times she had given me the option of walking away. The fact that I had not walked away only showed, to me at least, that I was happy with our relationship and that I trusted Lisa not to abuse that trust. A case in point, I told Elaine, was that I had told Lisa about what Elaine had said once she realized I was buying all that lingerie for me to wear. Surely if Lisa was the abusive type she would have objected to anybody else knowing what she was doing to me. Yet, when I told Lisa, all she said, was she was glad I had such a caring and understanding friend. Elaine was much more relaxed after our talk. She even seemed happy that I, or rather we, were happy. Later, while Elaine was getting ready to leave, she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek but, as she did, she said, "David. I didn't mention it before but you missed a little bit of eyeshadow when you took your makeup off." "What makeup?" I protested non to convincingly. Elaine just smiled as she looked at me intently. "It's all right David. You don't have to hide it from me. We've known each other too long. If you want to wear makeup that's perfectly fine. Besides. I can see that your eyebrows have been shaped. And they do look much better. But I also recognize the smell of your facial scrub. It's the same one I use." I had been found out again by Elaine and felt totally embarrassed at being discovered. Also, the question flashed through my mind, if Elaine had noticed then who else might have? "Don't worry David," Elaine said giving me a hug. "I am not going to tell anybody. But, I wouldn't mind seeing what you look like all made up and properly dressed." "I don't think I am ready to show anybody yet," I said hesitantly. "Pity." Elaine smiled. And after another quick kiss on the cheek, she left. Much later that night Lisa called me from Hong Kong and we talked for ages. She told me that she would be flying back the next day, landing at Glasgow very early Saturday morning. That being so, Lisa asked if I would do her a big favor. As she had left suddenly she had left her house in a bit of a mess. Consequently, she wondered if I might go up on Friday night and give the place a quick tidy up. I agreed, of course. So, on Friday afternoon, after finishing my work on the translation and printing out a copy of what I had done so far for Lisa. I carefully packed a bag of my things for the weekend. Under my jeans, I was wearing a white suspender and pantie set with seamed white stockings. In the bag, I put one of the waist nipper sets with matching stockings, plus a black set and a silver-grey set that I really loved the color of. I also packed four extra pairs of stockings. You never know when a pair might get snagged or laddered. Alongside these, there was a small bag of makeup and some of my new purchases off the internet. A light grey pencil skirt that hugged my nipped in waist, hips and was tight down to mid tight. I thought that my new, white turtle-neck sweater was the perfect match for the skirt. My denim skirt was also packed. It was good for working around the house. But, along with my clothes, I also packed my most recent purchase. It had only arrived that morning and I had not had a chance to really try it out. It was a shoulder-length auburn wig. I had seen the wig on the internet and it matched to perfection the hair I had seen in my dream. As soon as I saw it I just knew I had to have it. I didn't tell Lisa I was buying it, I wanted it to be a surprise for her. And, apart from trying it on for a few minutes when it had arrived, I really didn't know if it would look right. But I was content that I could get it brushed and styled correctly when I got to Lisa's later. When I had gone to Lisa's for a week I had taken just a small bag with a few changes of underwear, jeans, and t-shirts. But, with skirts, blouses, lingerie, makeup, nightdresses and shoes I had a full suitcase and that was just three days. I suddenly realized why women always seemed to have far more luggage than men when they travel. Once I arrived at Lisa's I quickly changed into my denim skirt with a plain blue blouse. I put on a little makeup and, after carefully brushing out my wig, I put it on also. Satisfied with the effect I set about tidying up. A couple of hours later I had changed the bed and put the washing in the machine. The vacuum had been run around and I had dusted everything. I had even got rid of the off milk that was in the fridge and the moldy bread from the bread bin. There were a few other things in the fridge that had to be got rid of as they were out of date. But that then left me with a tiny problem. It was getting late and there was then very little in the way of food in the house. Lisa would be arriving early the next morning and, there wasn't even milk for a cup of coffee. Checking my watch, I saw that the local shop would be closing in less than thirty minutes and it was a twenty-minute drive away. So, my dilemma was, if I took the time to remove my makeup, I would miss the shop. But, if I was to make it to the shop I had to go as I was. Checking myself in the mirror I saw that my makeup was passable, not great, not as I would have liked it, but passable all the same. I grabbed one of Lisa's winter coats, not because it was cold outside but because it was thick enough to hide the fact that I didn't have breasts. And, after snatching up my wallet, I locked Lisa's house and jumped in my car. Driving in my wedge heeled sandals was a little difficult, my feet felt all wrong and I twice stalled the car at intersections. But I managed to get the store before it closed. Then I realized I was carrying a wallet, a dead giveaway if anyone in the store saw that. Taking several deep breaths in an ineffective attempt to calm my nerves, I took all the notes from my wallet, stuffed them into the pocket of Lisa's coat, and headed for the store. Once inside, I had to keep reminding myself to walk like a woman. One foot in front of the other, and swing my hips. Not too much, I didn't want to appear like some tart, but just enough to let my hips roll naturally with my footsteps. And don't look nervous, I told myself. Don't try and hide or avoid eye contact, that would only make me look suspect and shifty. But don't stare either. If I started staring at somebody they might well see right through my makeup. Just be natural, I whispered to myself, or as natural as I could be dressed as I was. Talk about a swan on water. So, entering the store I walked slowly to where all the baskets were stacked. That was the key, I told myself, keep it slow, not too slow, but slow enough that I could concentrate on what I was doing. There were three other people in the store, a young girl and an older man behind the counter, and some youngish guy doing some late-night shopping as I was. The younger guy didn't seem to notice me. He was too busy grabbing whatever it was he had come for, and that was mostly beer and snacks from what I could see in his basket. The girl was also otherwise engaged counting money to even look up, except when she had heard the little buzzer as the door opened when I had walked in. But the older man with her appeared to be watching my every move. I didn't know if he thought I might be a shoplifter or something. Or perhaps he just wanted everyone gone so he could close the shop for the night. But I could feel his eyes boring into me the whole time I was there. I grabbed a couple of cartons of milk and put them in my basket. Along with some fresh fruit and bits and pieces to make a salad. And, as each item went into my basket, I felt that man's eyes watching me intently. I wished he would find something else to stare at because it was giving me the creeps. Several times I got so flustered by his staring that I forgot what I had come for and had to backtrack through the shelves to get the items I had missed. Finally, I had everything, at least everything I could remember, and I took my basket to the counter. As nervous as I was I felt sure that I had got away with it. The younger guy hadn't even looked in my direction as far as I knew. And the girl was still counting. Only the older guy was still watching me but, I was pretty sure that my practiced walk and the bit makeup I was wearing was enough to fool all but the closest examination. But when I got to the counter to check out the older man asked if I needed any bags for my groceries. "Two or three, please," I said. Then I saw the man's expression change. Instead of staring as he had been he now looked surprised and puzzled. At once I realized what I had done. I had used my own voice, a man's voice. For a second a wave of panic washed over me and, had my legs not been quaking so, I would have run from the store as fast as my heels would carry me. But then I saw salvation in the form of some honey and lemon throat sweets. I grabbed a packet and added it to my shopping. I gave the man a weak smile and, stroking my throat whispered, "laryngitis." The man nodded and returned my weak smile. "Aye, there must be a bug going about. You keep yourself wrapped up hen. And try a hot toddy before you go to bed. It works wonders." With that, I paid for my shopping, left the store and put my bags in the car. I drove off but had to stop a short distance down the road. I don't know if it was the release of nervous tension, or purely because I had got away with it, but I couldn't stop myself from laughing. "Keep yourself wrapped up hen." I mimicked the man's words. Which only made me laugh all the harder. I had got away with it. Despite my fears and nerves, I had somehow got away with it. Back at Lisa's, I put the shopping away and, after a light supper, had a shower before getting ready for bed. I got up early the following morning so that I might have plenty of time to shower and get ready for Lisa. That morning I selected my waist nipper with seamed charcoal stockings. And after doing my makeup, including a slightly darker shade over my eyes, I dressed in my tight pencil skirt and turtleneck sweater. The final touches were my long auburn wig and a pair of black court shoes with four-inch heels. It would not be bragging to say that the overall effect was a very attractive woman. It was curious, not that long ago the idea of dressing as a woman felt distinctly peculiar, but now I took great pride in making myself the most attractive woman I could be. Turning this way and that I admired my reflection in the mirror. From my slender ankles up to my rounded bottom, my legs looked toned and well-shaped. The waist nipper gave a fair impression of shapely hips, a flat tummy and nice waistline. And my face, carefully and attractively made up, if I say so myself, was nicely framed by my new wig. But as I looked at myself I began to realize that there was something missing. Something was spoiling the whole image. I didn't have a bust. I had never been a big guy. In fact, I was quite slim and had a boyish figure. So, the waist nipper gave me a very womanly shape. Also, my shoulders were fairly narrow and my face round and with soft features. Looking at myself in the mirror I realized that I could easily pass as a woman, indeed I had only the night before, but I didn't have any breasts. And that spoiled the whole thing. Part of me wished I had brought some of the bras with me, but I hadn't. And even if I had, I didn't have anything to put in them. I supposed I could borrow a bra off Lisa. But again, I didn't have anything to put in it. Sure, I could have stuffed a bra with tissue. But I didn't think that would look right. Not to mention, I really didn't think Lisa would approve if I started digging into her lingerie draw without permission. So, after putting thoughts of having a bust out of my mind, I went downstairs to make myself some breakfast. It was around nine am when I heard Lisa's car drive up. Hearing that I quickly made my way to the door, checking myself in the mirror on the way. My makeup still looked as good as when I had applied it and, after flicking a few stray strands of hair from my wig back, I thought myself more than presentable for my mistress. Lisa was locking her car as I opened the front door. She turned towards her front door where I was standing and then suddenly stop. For a moment her expression was one of confusion and surprise. But this quickly changed to one of wonder. "Dee? Is that really you?" she asked as a smile spread across her face. "Yes Miss Lisa," I said returning her smile. Lisa dropped her carry-on bag as she stepped quickly towards me, her joy written large across her face. "Oh darling, you look wonderful," she said as she wrapped her arms around my waist and pulled me to her. She kissed me deeply, her lips pressing to mine with all the passion she had denied herself these past few weeks. For a brief moment, Lisa broke the kiss, leaning back so she could look at me more closely. "I love what you have done with your eyes sweetheart, and your hair is just, well just." Lisa didn't finish her sentence as she crushed her lips to mine once more. I felt her hands slide down to my bottom and she gripped my buttocks tightly as she lifted me to her so that our groins pressed together. We stood at the front door, kissing and embracing each other for a long time. Neither of us thought about if anyone might see us, nor cared if they did. We loved each other far too much to care what the world may think and, while we kissed, there was no other world outside of our embrace. Eventually, our embrace slackened and our lips separated. "Please Miss Lisa," I said finally. "Come inside and make yourself comfortable. I'll get your bags then make you some tea." "I will." Lisa grinned. "After my darling, Dee gives me one more kiss." So saying, Lisa again pressed her lips to mine and we embraced once more. After I collected her bags and carried them inside I found Lisa sitting on the sofa and rubbing her toes as she looked around the living room. "You did a good job tidying up Dee," Lisa said as I headed into the kitchen. "Did it take you very long?" "No Miss Lisa," I replied, switching the kettle on. "Miss, would you like some breakfast? I got a few things at the local shop last night but we will really have to do a proper shop as your fridge is nearly empty." "No thanks, sweetheart. I ate on the plane," she called through to me. There was a short pause before she asked, "When did you go shopping?" "Last night," I informed her as I carried the tea through. "I very nearly forgot and had to race down there before they closed." Lisa gave me a grave look as she considered what I had just told her. "Dee sweetheart," Lisa began slowly. "Now you know I told you that you must always be dressed as a woman while you are in my house. I hope you weren't cheating just because I wasn't here." "No Miss Lisa," I replied truthfully. "I changed my clothes as soon as I arrived yesterday. Just as you told me I should. Then, before starting on the housework, I got dressed just as you like me to. I even put on some makeup and my wig." I explained how I'd had to race to shop as it was late and how I didn't have time to change before I went. Lisa was both amused and impressed. Amused at how nervous I had been, and impressed that I'd had the courage to go through with it. At the conclusion of my story, Lisa gave me a kiss and told me how proud she was of me for being so brave. Honestly, I hadn't felt brave at the time, but I was happy that she was happy. "Miss," I said at the end of my tail, "would you like me to massage your feet. You've never stopped rubbing them since you got in." "If you wouldn't mind sweetheart," Lisa said sitting back in her seat and stretching her legs out. "I hate long flights. They always make my ankles swell." Lisa sat back on the sofa while I knelt on the floor in front of her and began to tenderly massage her feet and ankles. "That feels so much better darling." Lisa sighed as she closed her eyes and allowed her head a fall back. For some time, I worked diligently on her feet. I rubbed each toe, not too hard, but enough to get her circulation going again. I rubbed the bridge and underside of her feet and smiled to myself as she sighed and wriggled her toes as she lay back on the sofa. But, as I worked on her left ankle, I felt the toes of her right foot exploring the front of my skirt. Once she located the distinctive bump where my chastity cage bulged between my legs I saw that Lisa was smiling down at me. "I hope you have been a good girl Dee?" Lisa exhaled sleepily. "No more trying to get out when you shouldn't." "No Miss Lisa," I said. True I had thought about it, but I hadn't tried to get out, which I could anyway. "That's a good girl Dee." Lisa sighed as she began to gently rub my chastity cage which caused me to become semi-erect under my skirt. "You know Dee, you would make the perfect lady's maid," Lisa said in a dreamy voice. "Thank you, Miss Lisa," I replied. I lifted her toes to my lips and gently kissed them. Lisa moaned softly as I slowly sucked her toes into my mouth and, at the same moment, she pressed the toes of her other foot down on my cage, causing me to groan. Without warning, Lisa pulled her foot away and she sat up. She was above me, leaning forward and smiling down at me as she said, "Why don't you. I know you will make the perfect male girlfriend I have wanted. So why don't you move in here full time and be my maid also?" I was taken aback. "What about my job? What about my house?" I stammered. "What about them?" Lisa shrugged. "You said you only have to go into the office to pick up the work you're translating. So, you could keep a few male clothes just for that. As for your house. It's up to you to do with that what you like. You could sell it and invest the money, or, if you prefer, rent it out so you get a little income on the side. It's your house after all and it's not like I need your money. And look at this house, it's more than big enough for two. And besides, we got five bedrooms here, we could convert one into a playroom. Wouldn't that be fun? Having a room where I could do all kinds of deliciously despicable things to you. And don't try and tell me you wouldn't like that because I know that you would love it. "Well I suppose a playroom might be fun." I smiled weakly. "Fun for me," Lisa grinned. "Perhaps not so much for my little slave." She leaned forward and stroked my cheek tenderly. "Of course, you would be here as my girlfriend and you would have to dress as my girlfriend all the time. And, as you would also be my maid, you will have to dress as my maid while performing your duties. And sweetheart, before you say anything, just be honest with yourself. You and I both know this is what you want. Why do you think you bought that lovely wig? I didn't say you had to. You bought it because you wanted to look more like that pretty woman that you have been suppressing deep inside for so long. You bought it so that you could be my pretty girlfriend. And think about this week, every time we talked you were telling me of all the nice things you were ordering off the internet. And how you were practicing your makeup, or walking in heels. Dee sweetheart, this is who you are, who you were meant to be. Many men have those feelings, many more than you might think. But most are not brave enough to admit the truth of how they really feel. Sure, quite a lot of them will dress-up in drag for a joke. At least they tell everyone, it's just for a joke. But the truth is that they would love to be able to dress up more often. Many of those men are married and will hide their true feelings from their wives, out of fear that their wives will reject them. And yes, there are a lot of women that will reject them. But there are as many women that will accept that their male partners enjoy dressing in female clothing because it makes them feel just as sexy as a woman feels. "Men should not be so afraid to hide their true feelings from their partners," Lisa said thoughtfully. "If a woman loves a man then she loves everything about him. And that includes his fetishes. But, and it's an important but, when the man works up the courage to tell his partner that he likes to dress up, he should do it gradually. Some men just go at it like a bull in a China shop. And that is a sure-fire to scare the hell out of a woman. But if they tell their partners gradually, stage by stage, then most women will accept that their "man" is still a "man," he just likes to explore his feminine side. "I'd really love to be with you all the time," I said slowly. "And it does feel nice wearing women's things, much nicer than I could have imagined. And I love being your girlfriend but, and please don't be annoyed, I am afraid. How far do you want me to go to be your girlfriend?" For a while, Lisa just looked down at me but then a broad reassuring smile spread across her face. "Don't worry darling, I am not going to have you cut your little friend off. I like it too much when he comes out to play. No, he's safe. But he will have to be kept safe in a chastity cage until it's play time." "Miss Lisa. If I did move in and become you, maid, what would my duties be? And what about my work?" "Your duties? Much as you already do sweetheart." Lisa smiled. "You would cook, clean and keep the house tidy. Pretty much as you already do at your house. And you already seem to know how to manage your time between keeping a house tidy, working, and making yourself look pretty. But you would also have to use that wonderful tongue of yours to keep me happy when I wanted it to. Naturally, when you are working as my maid you would have to dress as such. And, when I have friends" round for dinner or so forth, you will have to serve them as well as me. Not the personal services you understand, they are reserved just for me." "You mean pretend to be a domestic and serve drinks and things?" I asked. Lisa patted the sofa next to her, indicating that I should sit beside her. When I did she wrapped her arm around my neck and kissed me deeply as she snuggled up beside me. "You poor lamb." Lisa smiled reassuringly. "You still don't quite understand. You would not pretend to be a domestic. You will be a domestic." Lisa paused for a moment as her word sunk in, then she went on. "Remember I told you at the very start that I want a female led relationship and that the only way it is going to work between us is if you accept that. Now, what does that mean? It means that I decide everything in our relationship and I, and only I make the rules. You must be willing to be totally subservient to me in all things. If I want you to dress a certain way, you will dress that way. If I want to tie you up, you will submit to being tied up. If I tell you that you are to be a domestic for a time, you will be a domestic. And, if you fail to please me, or question my orders, then you will submit yourself to be punished. Now, I know that sounds hard, and I am sure it will be to begin with. But in return, I will love you. I will make love to you and, as you already know, I am a woman with a lot of passion. But I will also care for you, protect you, and treat you tenderly. In many ways, it will be much like an old fashion relationship. And by old, I mean like something out of the nineteen- hundreds. Only I will take the lead role, the traditional male role, and you will take the female role." Lisa paused then and looked deep into my eyes, asking, "Do you think you can accept that role darling?"