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A Well Kept Woman free porn video
A Well Kept Woman
1.0 Our Marriage
Fiona and I were happily married. She was a successful barrister and I
was a wealthy and successful merchant banker. We lived in London in a
large Georgian terrace that had 4 floors full of stylish furniture,
antiques and paintings. The house had five large bedrooms, all ensuite,
a music room, study, lounge, library, small ballroom as well as the
usual kitchen and dining rooms. There were a number of chandeliers and
endless ornaments, paintings and photographs.
We loved the house, but it was a challenge staying on top of it as
everything needed dusting or cleaning or polishing and by the time we
had finished the full clean it was always time to start again. Add
cooking and washing and our busy jobs, and our lives were really too
busy. We were slaves to the house. However the house was also our
shared joy and we delighted in keeping it just so.
On top of this Fiona loved expensive clothes and I loved buying them for
her. She was 5' 8" and very slender with long legs. She could have
been a model. I loved to cook and was a skilled chef and so at the end
of the day we would get in and she would clean while I cooked. Then we
would get ready for dinner and spend a precious hour dressed to impress,
eating fine food in a splendid dining room.
After 5 years of fun playing house, another exhausting week passed and
we discussed how our lives might improve.
We had money but we lacked time. We had often thought of employing a
maid or a cook but we loved the house too much to trust it to a
stranger. I suggested that as my work was so financially beneficial
that she could perhaps become a housewife for a trial period. She could
take on the cooking as well as the cleaning. I pointed out that she
could also wear even more feminine clothing. "What do you mean?" she
asked. Well I explained that I always loved it when she wore high
heels, tight pencil skirts with large dangly earrings and big hair and
makeup. I had also wondered what she would look like in a corset and
whether she could wear her nails longer and maybe consider breast
implants.
She went quiet for about 10 minutes and retired to the study to consider
these points. I wondered if I had offended her. Being something of a
feminist the idea of being a housewife probably did not appeal to her
but even though she was a feminist and the idea was perhaps
contradictory, I could see that the idea of taking her beloved dressing
up even further did.
Fiona agreed to a trial.
I suggested she could even wear a maid's outfit and then change for
dinner? She did not like that thought because it implied she would be
subservient to me. "I am not your slave," she said.
2.0 Fiona's Feminisation
We bought her an array of new shoes, dresses and skirts to celebrate.
And for the first time she started to wear corsets.
Not to do anything by half, we read up on the topic and found that
serious tight lacing is best done gradually but continually, 24/7. We
purchased and installed a lacing bar and every day before work I would
check her lacing and re-tighten as needed.
She pointed out that as the corset became tighter and smaller it impeded
her movements. This, combined with high heels, long finger nails and
pencil skirts made the housework quite a challenge. I re-assured her
that she looked fabulous and it was worth all the effort. It was also
apparent that the exercise was doing her good compared to her old job
which was largely desk bound so she was thinner but also fitter and
stronger and had more energy. Combined with the corseting her figure
was becoming quite something, 35, 20, 36." She was a sensation.
I asked her about breast implants and she was somewhat reluctant but
eventually after much prompting agreed. She was a B cup which was not
small as such and we decided that DD would make her figure even more
fabulous.
It did, she soon recovered from the operation and sported a dream
figure. 38, 19, 38"
3.0 Problems
The financial crisis loomed large and my investment portfolio at work
became chaotic. One day I realised that I had lost nearly ?75M. I was
sick to my stomach as I knew that such a loss would threaten my position
and almost certainly result in my departure from the bank. I was asked
to prepare a report and the following day presented it to the board.
They listened politely and asked intelligent questions - many of which I
could not answer. They were not amused. Later that afternoon I had a
call from HR and within an hour I had finalised my departure package and
was clearing my desk. The only good thing was that the package was a
six figure sum.
4.0 The Future
I went home in disgrace and dreaded telling Fiona the news. Now our
only income was gone. The one consolation was that we had some capital
and a cushion which gave us some space to plan for the future.
The chances of me getting a job at a senior level in banking were low,
especially as literally 1,000's of bankers were in the same position as
me in London and around the world. The obvious solution was that Fiona
would take on the money earning role and I would look after the house.
Fiona did not react as badly as I had thought or even as badly as I had
done myself. After a fairly serious discussion she quipped, "Well just
think you can become the housewife, spend your day cleaning and perhaps
even dress as a maid and then change into something more glamorous for
the evening."
I was not amused. She added, "Well what's good for the goose is good
for the gander." She was only winding me up and trying to make me laugh
to coax me out of my sullen mood, I thought to myself.
The following day I sulked around the house while Fiona looked fabulous
in her ultra feminine clothes sporting her sensational figure. She
cleaned and made me drinks. She was a dream wife.
In a mischievous moment I said "you never did use the maid's outfit I
bought for you." Almost as if she had expected this she did not miss a
beat and said "I will if you will."
I was bored, I had nothing to do except sulk and although the suggestion
seemed bizarre I was also slightly excited. What was the worst that
would happen? I could call her bluff or perhaps she might try and
implement the idea, either way it would be amusing and it would be
something to do and I had a feeling it would certainly take my mind off
my woes. "OK," I replied.
She looked pleased and stretched out a hand. "Come on then, let's have
some fun."
In our main bathroom she ran a scented bath and I stripped and got in.
She lathered my legs, chest, arms and arm pits and soon I was hairless
from the neck down. She even trimmed back my crotch. She asked me to
lie back and relax and put my feet up on the end of the bath. She
started to work on my toe nails and I dozed off. I heard, "Wake up,
sleepy head." I did, and observed 10 bright red toe nails at the end of
the bath, all mine. "Was that really necessary?"
"Oh yes," she replied. "Just getting started but every detail needs to
be just so."
"You know me, I like to do a good job of everything and if a job's worth
doing it's worth doing well." It is true, she was a perfectionist. She
looked perfect and kept the house perfect and now I realised she was
going to turn me into a perfect maid. This was more of an adventure
than I had bargained for.
After drying me off, she sprayed plenty of perfume and powdered me all
over and added some deodorant in the usual places. I smelt lovely, if
rather floral, and felt silky smooth. The lack of hair on my arms and
legs made them more sensitive to every draft.
The whole thing was turning me on and I had a full-on erection. "That
will never do," she said pointing at the offending organ with a grin.
"No," I agreed, "I suppose it's not very lady like."
She enthusiastically jerked me off and after a cup of tea it had
subsided.
She said she had done some research and helped me into a flesh coloured
panty girdle. "Extra firm support," she informed me. The elastic and
frilly edges tantalised me and I felt slightly sick. I am not really
sure why but the prospect of wearing women's underwear both thrilled and
sickened me. The panty girdle had a hook and eye fastened flap crotch
and she took me by surprise by pulling my penis back and taping it up
behind me and also pushing my balls into my body cavity. "Steady on,"
was all I could manage to say. She then fastened the crotch to give me
a pleasing feminine flatness where my penis had once been. She gave it
a little pat and said, "There, much neater."
She produced some silicone breast forms. I did not know she had these.
She said they would give me about a C cup and that would have to do for
now. "Do for now?" I questioned.
"Yes, until we can make proper arrangements," she chirped. She adjusted
the girdle's straps so that soon I had a pleasing pair of breasts
thrusting out in front of me.
Next she led me to the lacing bar and fastened me into some lined
leather wrist cuffs that clipped to the bar to hold me in place. Then
she used the ratchet to raise the bar until I was on tip toes. She
produced a black satin corset and said, "This is a 26" waist and is
about as far as we can go on the first session." I was gradually laced
in and knew for the first time how a tube of toothpaste suffers. Slowly
the pressure built until my breathing was checked and then more
pressure. "Is this really necessary?" I questioned.
"Oh yes," she said. "Don't forget the key to successful tight lacing is
24/7 lacing and gradual reduction. I must admit I have taken you in a
little fast but then your figure was not as good as mine to start with
so we had some catching up to do." I thought that that was hardly
surprising as I was a man but realised she was just being sarcastic so
said nothing.
After about 60 minutes of dangling from the bar and repeated pulling of
laces she announced that I was now fully laced and produced a chromed
steel band that went around my waist. She fastened this at the back
with a special tool. "Whats that for?" She explained that some less
tolerant people struggle when they start their corset training and are
tempted to loosen or remove their corsets. "This makes them tamper
proof .....isn't it a good idea?"
Next she clipped six garters onto my corset and rolled some sheer black
stockings up my smooth legs and attached them neatly to each garter.
Lowering me down she led me back to bathroom. As I walked I touched my
legs and they felt lovely and smooth in the stockings. I had good legs.
My penis rubbed slightly as I moved and that was arousing and I looked
down to see breasts which was also arousing. I seemed to wiggle more as
I walked. I could not help putting my hands to my waist and feel my new
curves. She observed this. "You have quite a good figure already, but
we should be able to steadily improve that in the coming weeks." She
smiled at me and I smiled back. This was a powerful exchange. I did
not say please stop this, or what do you mean, I did not frown or
complain, I smiled and said nothing. I wanted this to continue? She
sat me down in front of the bathroom sink and the mirror. She gave me a
protective cape. It was light pink and this went round my neck and hung
down. I noticed that my breasts now protruded forward and the cape hung
off them. I had often observed women's breasts with enthusiasm but now
I was seeing them from a different angle and they were mine. I loved
the thoughts and the sensations overwhelming me. I was dumbfounded. As
I sat down I also noticed that I was rather stiff and had to sit upright
to minimise the pressure from the corset. I also realised that I was
now sitting on my penis and that it was very aroused and would have been
very erect was it not trapped beneath the firm control of the panty
girdle.
She placed my fingers in a bowl of water and asked me to keep them
there. She ran her fingers through my hair. My hair was medium length
and I kept it combed back. She opened a bottle and started rubbing that
all over my hair and combed it straight. Then she got a rubber cap and
once in place she started pulling hairs though and then applied liquid
from another bottle to those hairs. There were some unknown smells but
they were not unpleasant.
Next she took my fingers out of the bowl and starting working on my
hands pushing back the cuticles and rounding off the nails. Then she
started to lightly rub the nails themselves. "To ensure adhesion," she
explained, and began gluing on false nails. One by one they went on and
I felt the glue dry. They were about ?" longer than my own nails and
definitely a feminine length. She explained that with care they should
last about two weeks. I did not respond. She carefully applied
matching red nail polish to each nail and once each hand was done placed
them under a small lamp like device. "This ensures they dry and harden
well." She gave me several coats of nail varnish and said "in time you
should be able to do this yourself."
"I like it when you do it," I replied. She smiled. What was I
saying!!!??? Each nail was a mini masterpiece. It was a shiny red
mirror. The overall impact was that my hands looked feminine.
She said that the next part might sting a little and holding a device to
my ear I heard a click, felt a slight pain and realised that in the last
20 seconds I had a gained a pair of gold ear studs. I wondered how far
she was taking this but I still could not bring myself to resist.
Next she started plucking at my eye brows and soon there was not much
left except a narrow high shaped arch. This instantly made my eyes look
larger and also made them look decidedly feminine.
She removed my rubber cap and started combing and snipping my hair. By
the time she had finished I had one of those modern sculpted page boy
styles with straight banged fringe and gently curved longer sides to
frame my face. My hair had gone from medium brown to reddish auburn
with darker highlights. I realised that my hair colour was decidedly
feminine and I would no longer pass as a man at all as no man would ever
wear that colour. More than that though, combined with my eyebrows and
ear studs I would definitely pass as a women. "I thought so," she said,
"you are quite a looker."
Next Fiona started on my make up and applied a foundation, false eye
lashes, eye liner, eye shadow, blusher and mascara. She commented that
I was lucky that these days most products were long lasting and
waterproof. She finished off with some bright red lipstick that matched
my nails. She said, "I know you have always like women with bright red
lips and nails."
Once she stepped away from the mirror I could see that I had a
definitely feminine hair style and colour and a very feminine face and
eyes. I looked down to note my protruding breasts and very feminine
hands and stockings. My penis was going into overdrive but it could not
overcome the tape or the panty girdle. I was beginning to wonder how
reversible all this was.
"OK, so far so good," she announced. "Let's get you dressed." In the
bedroom she helped me into a purple satin blouse. I found I could only
slowly button it up given the buttons were on the wrong side and my
nails seemed to work against me. Then she held out an elasticated slip
and I stepped into it. It had its own crotch which added delicious
pressure to my penis and she tucked my blouse into the slip and smoothed
it off. "The slip will help keep your skirt looking smooth," she
explained. Good I thought, I would not want my skirt to be ruffled
...what was I thinking?
Next she held out the satin black knee length pencil skirt. I had to
wriggle to get my bottom passed the open zip and this made me wobble my
bottom and I felt so girly getting into the skirt as it slid passed by
stockings. Once on, she helped by zipping me up at the back and the
skirt clung to my new feminine curves. The skirt had a wide waist band
that showed off my much reduced waist. I realised that my bottom and
hips were silhouetted by the skirt and now stuck out. The skirt also
held my legs together such that I had a classic female hour glass
figure. The smooth front of the skirt confirmed that I was now female
and the compression of the corset had even resulted in a typically
feminine and slightly rounded stomach. I was quite short of breath and
even slightly dizzy. Partly because of the corset but more than that,
the adrenalin was flowing and I was still dumfounded but very aroused.
She looped a pearl necklace over my head which dangled down over my
breasts. She slipped about 30 small bangles on one wrist and a feminine
metal strapped watched on the other. She even gave added some rings.
She produced a broad patent black leather belt about 4" in width. It
had double buckle holes and she placed this around my waist, the ladies
way, and tightly fastened the buckles. "This will look better once your
waist is smaller," she said. I noted that the belt offered a further
fastening via a row of central holes and a small stud. She worked the
stud behind the belt and it poked through. She got out a small gold
coloured padlock and pressed it shut. She showed me a chain around her
neck with a small key on it. "I think it best that your mistress keeps
this, don't you?" It had the corset belt and waist belt keys on it.
"Now the final touch." She got me to sit on the bed and slipped my feet
into a pair of mules. They were patent black strappy affairs with about
5 inch heel and a 1" platform. They gripped my feet quite firmly and I
noticed that my red toe nails where evident poking through the peep
holes under their sheer black nylon stockings. The buckles also allowed
a small padlock to be added and one was locked on each foot to hold the
straps fastened at my ankles.
As I moved, the sensation of the shiny fabrics rubbing against my legs
was new and I sort of rustled as I moved. Standing me up, I took my
first tentative steps. I was a bit wobbly but by taking more dainty
steps than I was accustomed to, I could cope. The skirt gripped my legs
and also enforced smaller steps and I realised that somehow the skirt
and slip gripped my hips causing my penis to be rubbed even more firmly
as I walked. Walking was almost like masturbating. I was totally
aroused and lost.
She said that if I persisted with the high heels my muscles would tone
and tendons stretch to make them more comfortable but this would take
practice.
She approached me with a smile and kissed me. I kissed her back so
gently and delighted at the lipstick to lipstick contact and smells. I
was lost in the kiss and realised that I was kissing her as a girl might
kiss. All I knew is that our kisses were not usually that good and I
did not want to stop.
After a good deal of kissing and cuddling I got her to come and she got
me to come.
5.0 Maid Service
I quickly forgot my woes and after about a month I was very much
comfortable with my new identity. Under the strict lacing regime my
waist had gradually reduced to 22" and I found that I could manage high
heels with ease. My ears had healed up and I could wear dangly
earrings, which I loved. My male clothes had been consigned to the
attic.
Now we would both dress for dinner and I started to build an array of
evening wear. We discussed our various gowns and had fun ordering new
ones on line. The arrival of the postman was always an excitement in
our house. I quickly realised that I needed gowns that covered my
breasts because they were false. Fiona asked me how I would feel about
correcting that? I was nervous but agreed. Given the recession the
plastic surgeons were not very busy and two weeks later I returned home
with a pair of C cups all of my own.
The surgeon had advised against double D's like Fiona's because he said
my skin would need to stretch first. He said that after 12 months he
could enlarge them further.
My breasts were a source of endless pleasure to Fiona and I. They
squished together with hers when we cuddled and my nipples seemed more
sensitive.
Without restriction, I could now wear daring low cut dresses and this
final touch removed any doubt that I was now all women.
It gave me renewed confidence to go out and that meant that London's
shops were at our full disposal. We had many a girly outing trying on
every outfit we could squeeze into. Soon my wardrobe was overflowing
with skirts and dresses of every style and fabric.
Fiona kept me tightly laced and would only remove my anti tamper belt
when I was secured to the lacing bar or for when bathing before being
dried and re-corseted.
She called me Zoe because she said she had a long lost school friend
called Zoe and I reminder her of her.
6.0 Life
My severance money was depleted and so Fiona obtained a job as a
barrister. She quickly returned to her career and made good money.
I was left cleaning the house in my maids outfit. As my heels got
higher and my waist smaller I became increasing weak and feminine and
found the chores very demanding as Fiona was right, long nails, corsets
and tight skirts do indeed make every day chores a challenge.
6 months earlier I had been an exhausted banker. Now I was an ultra
feminine ladies maid.
Zoe and Fiona were never more happily married.
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Priya Mistery
Eisley
- 06.04.2021
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