29 July 2013

College Secretary

By: Tracey Davis

Alex and his wife had a pretty standard, maybe stagnant sex life until
recently. Alex was writer, who worked out of our home, and his wife works
as an English professor at a local university. Kristine brought home and
young couple for dinner, which she did now and then. Most were wanna-be
writers who wanted to meet me or someone over-confident that needed to
hear how tough it would be to be a writer.

After dinner, they sat at the table and drank coffee thanking about
writing.

Kathy looked up at with a sly grin, "Alex, would you like a better look
at my breasts?"

Flabbergasted, he didn't know to response, I knew I had been busted and
just mumbled, "Ummm, no."

"I think you do," she smiled.

Kathy, without taking her eyes of me, unbuttoned her blouse showing with
lace bra. She placed her hands under the cups and lifted her breasts
slightly. He glanced at Steve, who sat grinning. Then he looked at
Kristine, who also grinning. Was he being set up?

"Would you like me to take off my bra?" Kathy smiled.

"Yes," he smiled, calling her. Calling Kristine's bluff. Calling Steve's
bluff.

Kathy reached up and unsnapped the center clasp, allowing her small, firm
breasts spill out. Her eyes were still on me.

"Do you like these?"

"Yes," he said.

She stood up and moved over next to me.

"Would you like to take off my slacks?" she asked.

"Okay," Alex said, "this has gone too far." He turned to Kristine. "What
going on?"

"Go with it," Kristine smiled. "Would anyone like to see my breasts?"

"I would," Steve said.

Kristine nudged Alex, "Go ahead. Take off her slacks."

Then Kristine pulled her blouse over her head and then unsnapped her bra.
Her large white globes spilled out.

"Nice," Steve smiled.

Alex felt Kathy small hands take his and place them in her belt. He began
undoing her belt and unsnapped her slacks.

"Pull them down," she ordered. Her tone had changed. He pulled them down.
She wore black bikini panties. She stepped out of the slacks.

"Now pull down my panties," she demanded. Alex slid them down her thin
thighs, revealing her neatly trimmed public hair.

"I heard you have a talented tongue," she smiled. She pulled herself up
onto the table and spread her legs. "I want you lick me."

He turned to Kristine. She was unsnapping Steve's jeans. She pulled them
down. Alex could see a huge bulge in Steve's pants. Kristine realized he
was watching. She turned, "You have yours and I have mine. Let's have
some fun."

Alex felt Kathy's hands on his head. She turned his head.

"I said lick my fucking pussy!"

She forced his head down between her legs and Alex began to lick. She
began to moan. After about five minutes, Kathy was moaning even more, but
he also heard a muffled moan from Kristine. He looked up and she was on
her knees before Steve, only in her black nylon briefs, sucking on
Steve's large cock. Kathy pushed his head back down.  Soon Alex heard
Kristine moaning and the table was moving.

Alex knew Steve was fucking her. He wanted to fuck Kathy. He raised his
head after her fourth or fifth orgasm.

"Can I fuck you like that?" Alex asked, nodding toward my wife.

"Show me your cock," she snapped.

When he hesitated, she shouted, "Now."

He quickly pulled down his slacks and realized he was wearing Kristine
panties underneath. Kathy began laughing.

"I was just wearing them today because I didn't have anything clean."

"Steve look at the sissy in panties."

Steve still fucking Kristine.

"Cute," he said. Then laughed, "Sissy faggot."

Alex felt his cock shrink.

"Show me your big cock," she ordered.

Alex pulled down the panties and Kathy began to laugh.

"Pull up your panties sissy and keep licking me."

He did as he was told. Shortly afterward, Alex heard Steve moaned and the
table stopped moving. Within minutes, he felt a bra being wrapped around
my chest.

"Don't stop sissy," Kathy ordered. "Let them dress you."

Next he felt a garterbelt around his waist and then hose up his legs.
Next was a skirt. Finally, Kathy pushed him away and climbed off the
table. Kristine handed Alex a blouse and he put it on without saying a
word. He looked at the clothes he was wearing. They were his.  He looked
behind him and there were his wigs and makeup supplies.

"Go doll yourself up, sissy," Kathy said. "I want to see the real you."
Then she turned to Kristine. "Get down on your knees bitch. I want his
cock hard in five minutes so I can get fucked by a real cock or you'll
never touch that cock again."

Kristine quickly dropped to her knees and took his soft cock into her
mouth and sucked him hard.

Alex went into the bathroom. When I returned, Steve was fucking Kathy. He
was sitting on a chair and she rode him.

"I'm going to come," he said.

Kathy climbed off Steve and grabbed her camera. Kristine knelt in front
of Steve's cock while Kathy videotaped them.

"Do you want my cum?"

"Oh, yes," Kristine begged. He couldn't believe it. "Please cum on my
face."

"Are you my bitch?"

"Yes, I love your cock and I'm your bitch. I'll do anything for your
cock."

With that, Steve came on her face. Hot thick streams over her face.
Afterwards, Kristine eagerily licked his cock off, licked her lips and
then took her hands and wiped his cum off her face and licked her
fingers. Kathy stopped taping and told Kristine to move out of the way.

"Well, look at our sissy," Kathy said. She turned to Kristine, "Pick out
a pair of sexy heels for him, bitch."

Kristine returned with a pair of his five inch heels. He slipped them on.

"Now it's your turn to be videotaped," Kathy said. Alex felt better when
she said that when he saw Steve dressing. "Walk around for us. Now twirl
so we can see you panties. Now take off you panties. Now twirl. Now come
over and stand in front of me. Tell me your name."

"Stephanie," Alex eeked out in a feminine voice.

"No, silly," she said. "Tell us your real name."

He hesitated.

"Now or I tell Steve to get undressed."

"Alex Davis," he said.

"Alex, what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a writer," Alex said. I could feel my face burning.

"What is your wife's name?"

"Kristine Davis."

"Take off your wig."

He hesitated.

"Steve come over her."

"No," Alex said and pulled off my wig.

"Now tell us how long you have been a sissy."

"Since I was 12."

"Who's clothes did you wear?"

"My sister's clothes."

This went on for what seemed forever.

"Now I want you to wear your female clothes 24/7, okay?"

"Yes," he said.

"I will call you and if you do not quickly send me a pic of yourself
dressed fem I will being Steve over here and you will suck his cock. Do
you understand?"

"Yes," he said.

"So if you aren't dressed, what will you do?"

"I will suck his cock."





Then next morning Alex woke up. He nudged his wife.

"Did that really happen last night?"

"I hope so," she said. "That's the best fucking I ever had."

That didn't make me feel good. Then she held a mirror in front of me.
Alex was still wearing my makeup. He looked down at his babydoll.

"They didn't really videotape us, did they?"

"Yeah."

"I thought they were just kidding."

Just then his phone rang. It was a text: tell your wife to take a pic of
yourself standing with your panties down and lifting your hem.

"Better hurry," Kristine said.

He stood and she snapped the pic and sent it.

They received another text: My friends loved the video sissy. They just
wanted to see ur tiny dick again.

Alex turned to Kristine, "What are we going to do?"

"I hope I can get fucked like that again," she said as she got up and
jumped in the shower.

When she got out, he was waiting for her.

"What am I going to do?"

"I don't know. Why the hell did you get dressed like that for them and
say all that stuff."

"I didn't think they were serious."

She dressed and left for work. Alex was ready to jump in the shower and
wash everything off when Kathy called.

"Hey, sissy," she greeted me mockingly.

"Hi, he responded with some trepidation.

"I need you to dress up real nice, today. Can you do that for me?"

"Why?"

"Because I said so. Is that okay with you?"

Fearing her, he said, "Yes, Kathy."

"Very good and why don't you call me Ms. Clarett from now on?"

"Yes, Ms. Clarett."

"Do you have a secretary's outfit?"

"Yes, I think."

"This is what I want," she said and she explained.

Alex showered, dressed, and readied himself. He stood by the door,
opened, and walked out to his car. He had only dressed fem when out of
town. He set the GPS to the address Kathy gave him. He drove to the
parking lot. Soon Kathy pulled up in her car. She got out and told Alex
to do the same.

"Very nice," she smiled.

He stood there for a few minutes, nervous, while she looked him over.

"Lift your skirt for me."

Slowly he reached for his hem and lifted his skirt showing his hose tops,
garterbelt, and panties.

"Now climb into the car with me."

It wasn't long before they were at Kristine's university.

"What are we doing here?" he asked.

She ignored him and told him to go to room 312 in Ellis Hall and that she
would meet him there later.

"Ms. Brown will be waiting there for you. Tell her you are Stephanie
Davis. You better get the job."

Alex walked up the sidewalk to Ellis Hall. He turned around and Kathy was
nowhere to be found. I walked in and walked up to 312 and knocked on the
door. A woman in her forties answered the door.

"May I help you," she smiled.

"Yes, I was told to come here. I'm Stephanie Davis."

"Oh, yes," she said. "You are here to interview. Come in."

He stepped into the office and she offered a seat. He handed him some
forms to fill out. He did so.

"Before we hire you, you will need a physical, Stephanie."

"How long do I have to get that?"

"We can do it this morning. There's a doctor down in the 100 hall."

"In the Women's Studies' building?"

"Yes, he's was speaking to a couple classes about hospital terminology
and the communication gaps with society. I asked him to stay to examine
you."

After he filled out the forms, she led him to room 100. I was a large
classroom.

"Sorry," she said, "I know this isn't a real doctor's office.

"That's okay."

"Now," Ms. Brown said, "You need to remove your clothes to your underwear
and wait for the doctor."

She stood there and removed his jacket. He slowly unbuttoned his blouse
and draped it over a chair. He wore a very feminine lace corset. He
unzipped his skirt and stepped out of it and placed it over the blouse.
He had a pale slip on.

"I think you have to take off the slip as well."

Alex slid it down slowly, covering himself as he went and quickly sat in
one of the desk/chairs to hid himself.

"I can take your clothes and find a hanger so they won't get wrinkled."

He didn't dare stand as she took his clothes and walked out the door.
Most of the shades were open, but there were on the third floor. The sun
was coming out. He sat at the desk for nearly forty minutes. Finally,
Kathy appeared at the door.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He explained.

"That's ridiculous. They should have down the physical by now. Your
interview is in about twenty minutes. Where are your clothes?"

"Ms. Brown took them so they would get wrinkled."

Kathy left and returned with the hanger. She told him to dress and she
stepped out of the room. Removed the jacket and blouse and realized there
was nothing else there. He put on the blouse and jacket.

"Ms. Clarret, my skirt and slip aren't here."

He squatted down at the door, pulling his jacket down to try to cover
himself.

"Oh my."

She led him down the hall quickly before the one o'clock classes got out.
He couldn't run because of his heels and she had to try with everything
to keep from laughing. In the office was a long table. She led him to the
far end and told him to sit down.

"Give me your jacket," she said. He did and she hung it up by the door.
"Sit there and I'll go find your clothes."

Just then two students walked in. They were in their early twenties.

"Kathy, is this where the interview is at?"

"Yes, you two are early. This is Stephanie Davis."

Leslie and Diane smiled broadly.

Over the next ten minutes more people filed in. In all there were six
teachers and four students.

"Okay, let's get this started. I'm Louise Jackson. Women's Studies
Department Chair. We are here to interview Stephanie Davis for the
position of secretary/errand girl. Let's go around the room and
introduced ourselves."

Everyone was associated with the women's studies department. When they
Stephanie she introduced herself.

"Okay, Stephanie," Louise said, "why don't you stand up and tell us about
yourself."

He stammered and tried to say he couldn't stand up.

"Just stand up or walk right out of here and never come back," Louis
snapped.

Alex stood with his hands covered the front of his panties. He nervously
explained what happened.

"That's admirable of you to continue under these conditions," Louise
smiled. "Are they garter snaps and hose? Is that a garterbelt?"

"Yes," he said shyly.

"Could you lift your blouse so we can see your garterbelt?"

Slowly, he lifted his blouse; not realizing that he was no longer
covering the lace front of is panties.

"Very feminine," Louise said.

"Can you turn around so we can see the back straps?"

Alex turned around and back.

"Very nice."

Most were trying to keep a straight face, but a few were horrified.

They asked questions about his crossdressing, but little about his
secretarial skill.

"Now," Louise said, "let see how you do in one of your duties. I want you
to take coffee and drink orders for everyone. You don't have memorize
everything. You can write it down."

Alex walked around to each person and wrote down what they wanted.

"Where are the drinks?"

"They are in the next office," Louise said. "Leslie will show you."

"Should I go out there like this?"

"Oh, there won't be anyone out there. There aren't any classes in here at
this time."

He followed Leslie to the office. She showed him the drinks and coffee.
He gathered them and began filling the tray with the order.

"Alex, what are you doing in her in your underwear?"

He turned around to see Kathy.

"They are testing my skills to get coffee and drinks," he said.

She smiled. "So everything is going well?"

"I guess. They got over the shock of seeing me in my underwear, I guess,
and what can I do?"

"Very good attitude."

Alex then walked away with the tray of drinks. He walked into the room
with them and began handing them out. Alex noticed someone new in the
room.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said. "Do you want a drink?"

"Yes, I'd like a coffee."

Alex scurried out and returned with a coffee.

"Very good," Louise said. "Alex, this is the doctor who was suppose
examine you. She has a busy schedule so we are going to conduct the
interview while you are being examined."

"Alex," Dr. Berger said, "could you sit on the edge of the table."

Alex sat there and she examined his ears, eyes, and mouth.

"Stephanie, what to do you think makes you most qualified for this
position?"

"I'm intelligent. I'm a writer, so I can help out with secretarial
duties. I'm athletic, so I can be a good errand girl."

"Could you unbutton and take off your blouse?"

Alex did so. Dr. Burger listened to his heartbeat.

"Stephanie," Dr. Jarrett asked. "I know as a crossdresser you try to be
as feminine as possible with makeup, wigs, clothing, the way you walk and
the way you talk, but since you work with all women here. List four
things you would do to make yourself even more feminine."

He thought, "I could wear more jewelry."

"That's okay, but we are looking for something more substantial."

"I'm not sure I know what you mean," he said.

"Okay, Stephanie," Dr. Berger said. "I really don't have the room to do
this at the end of the table. For the next step."

Dr. Berger looked around the room. "You are going to have to kneel on the
table."

"Should I take off my heels?"

"That's okay. You can keep them on."

"Would you be willing to do things that women do?" Dr. Jarrett asked.
"Like go shopping with the girls and try on clothes or go for a
makeover?"

"I guess," he said as Dr. Berger lifted his corset and tapped his
abdomen. Dr. Berger handed him a contract about the first task and he
signed it without reading it.

"Okay, that's one thing," Dr. Jarrett said. "Can you think of something
else?"

To Alex's surpise, Dr. Berger pulled down his panties and cupped his
testicles.

"Cover your mouth and cough." He coughed. "Again." He coughed. "Again."

"Do you want us to think of something else?"

"Sure," Alex said as he looked down. Only two professors could see his
small thing. The rest saw his bottom.

"Could you participate in a fashion show for us? Since you are male, as
scientists, we would like to see how you feel doing something like that."

"I guess I could." She slid him the paper and he signed the contract.

"Okay," Dr. Berger said, "now turned and bend down on your hands and
knees."

Alex pulled up his panties and turned around as his heels clanked on the
desk. When he was situated on his hands and knees, he felt his panties
slide down. Everyone could see him now.

Dr. Berger held up a piece of paper that said, "watch this" and then put
a finger to her lips.

"Stephanie I have to do a sensitivity test here. Spread your knees as far
apart as you can."

As his testicles hung down, snapped one with her finger. He winced. She
snapped the other one and he winced again.

"Okay, I'm going to have to do this two more times each. Tell me on a
scale from one to ten how painful this is. The ones I just did would be
threes.

Alex had his head down, but he still heard some snickers from the
students.

"Okay," he said.

"Stephanie," Dr. Jarrett said, "would you consider experience subordinate
positions to experience what many women experience?"

"Like what?"

Dr. Berger snapped pen on his ball and he winced loudly. She did the
other and he h the same. His eyes watered.

"Seven," he said.

"Work as a maid, a waitress. Stuff like that. Then report back to us."

Dr. Berger then snapped a rubberband on his balls.

"Yes, I will," he shouted as he reached back to cup and rub himself. Dr.
Jarrett gave his the next contract.

Dr. Berger slipped on rubber gloves and began examining his ass.

"We have a problem with your anus," Dr. Berger said. "Can you lay on you
back and pulled your legs back as far as you can?"

Alex did as he was told.

"Maybe you women on the side can help him hold his legs back further."

They did, putting Alex in much discomfort.

"Okay, Alex I need to measure your mouth first."

He wondered why she couldn't have down that first.

"I found in the past if the patient's eyes are covered this works better.
One of the students took a sash and covered his eyes, wrapping it around
his head. Dr. Berger then took a dildo and removed it from her bag. The
women were in hysteric without making a sound.

"Am I going to be okay," he asked with sorrow.

"It's 50/50. I need to measure your mouth by with and depth. Tell me when
you start gagging on this tube. If you start gagging I will pull it out
and you can try again. Try not to gag. Now open wide."

He did so as she slipped the dildo head through his lips. She pushed it
gently until he started to gag. She pulled it back slightly and tried
again. He gagged and she pulled it completely out.

"That wasn't very, I sorry to say," Dr. Berger said. "Do you want to try
again?"

"Yes, please. Can I?"

"Open wide," the doctor said. "Maybe suck on it to ease it back."

He sucked as she slid it back. He began to gag but he reached up grabbed
her hand to stop her from pulling it back.

"Do you want to work it yourself?"

"Ummph," he nodded.

He took it by two hands and began to ease into his throat. Each time he
took more and more until he finally gagged and pulled it out.

"How did I do?" he asked.

"Much better."

"Thanks," he smiled and the women were covering their mouths.

"Now we need to try a wider tube."

She pulled it out and someone gasped.

"Open wide."

At first it would fit.

"Work your lips around it."

Finally, he took the head in and she kept pushing it in.

"Can you hold it there?"

"Ummph," he nodded.

Finally she took it out.

"How did I do?"

"Very good."

"Am I okay?"

"Well see now. Since you took a tube that long and that wide in your
mouth, you need to do the same in your anus. If you can't then it is
likely it's the disease. Can you do that?"

She removed a third dildo and lubed it up. Many of the women said there
no way without saying a world. Some were betting.

"Dr. Jackson, I'm sorry this had to happen in the interview."

"Don't worry about it. If you pass this test and can go get more coffee,
you can have the job."

"Thank you."

Dr. Berger began easing it in. He was tense.

"Try think about something else."

"Can I suck on one of the tube?" he asked. "I guess like a bullet to bit
on."

"Only if you suck, not use teeth."

"Okay."

She gave him the thinner, long dildo and he took it and began sucking on
it. She tired and she couldn't get it in.

"I'm sorry, Alex."

"Oh please can we try a different position? Please?"

He quickly rolled over on his hands and knees. This was better. She began
inserting it in. She knew she went further she would hurt him.

"You can finish the interview," Dr. Berger said.

"Stephanie would you be willing to gather data on men for us?"

"What kind of data?"

"Just data."

"Nothing sexual."

"Of course not."

She slid him the contract and he signed it.

"Now I'm going to hold the tube," Dr. Berger said, "and you are going to
push back against it."

Alex rocked  back.

"More," she said. "I think you may have the disease."

Alex began to push against it and grunted with each push.

"Keep sucking the tube," Dr. Jackson encouraged, trying not to laugh.

After about five minutes, Dr. Berger told him to stop.  She pulled the
dildo out with a pop. She took the dildos and placed them in plastic bag.
Then she removed his blindfold.

"Do I have the disease?" he asked.

"No, you don't."

He breathed a sigh of relief. Then he realized he was on the desk totally
exposed. He began to wiggle to the edge of the table.

"Just a second," Dr. Berger said, holding a rule. "I need to measure your
penis." She measured. "Okay. Three-quarters of an inch." There were
snickers.

"Okay you can get dressed."

Alex shimmied off the table and slid his panties on. Then his blouse and
jacket.

"Do you want me to get coffee?" he asked.

"Yes, take orders."

Alex limped around the table and knew he had the job.

Willing Servitude

By: Throne

Paul, now his wife's devoted maid, helped her prepare for her date.  He
was, as always, in his sexy uniform with its frilly cap, well-fitted top,
and flaring skirt, and of course the usual stockings and heels.  As he
helped her zip up the tight red dress that clung to her full curves and
that showed off her cleavage and legs, he thought back to how his present
life had started.  Had it really been five years since he married Zara?
The memories of meeting her were so vivid.  He could recall clearly the
day he went to a friend's party and was stunned by her voluptuous beauty,
only to be further mesmerized by her slight but striking accent, and
finally to have his heart captured by her naturally dominant personality,
by how she controlled the conversation he hesitantly started, and how by
the end of the evening she was giving him orders, making him fetch her
drinks while she chatted with other men, ones who were taller, more
manly, and had much more confidence.

But then he got the biggest shock of all.  She declared that he was
taking her home and that he would be staying for a drink.  Paul fell all
over himself getting the short jacket she had arrived in, the one that
didn't hide her wide shapely bottom.  He followed her like a puppy dog as
she strode to the elevator.  Then she snapped at him that he needed
exercise and should take the stairs.  At the same time, one of his male
co-workers, a striking junior executive with an athletic build, joined
her for the ride.  Paul raced down the stairs and arrived winded.  The
elevator opened and there stood the magnificent Zara, sharing a laugh
with that man.  Paul was struck by jealousy but said nothing.  Instead he
crossed the lobby alongside her, opened the door to the sidewalk, and
hurried to hail a cab.

When they reached her place, a luxury building where she had an apartment
on the first floor, he was relieved not to have to replay the elevator
scene.  She told him coolly, "You are out of shape.  That run down the
stairs left you gasping.  I hope you can control your breathing better
than that when you have to."  She sighed, as if the effort of speaking to
him bored her.  Under her siren spell, he followed wordlessly into her
home.  She ordered him to remove her jacket, which he did happily,
inhaling the natural scent of her long red-blond hair along with the
subtle perfume she wore.  When he draped the garment over the back of a
wooden chair she gave a curt approving nod.  "You know how to serve.  I
like that.  There may be hope for you yet."

She mixed the drinks and handed him a tall slender glass.  It had a paper
flower in it and hers didn't.  That seemed unmanly but he wasn't about to
upset the fragile progress he felt he was making.  Just being in the same
room with her was a thrill.  And being the only one in her company was
indescribable.  She sat herself on a short couch.  He looked around,
uncertain of what to do, until she told him, "You may stay there."  He
risked taking a tiny drink from his glass.  Zara didn't object.  Two more
tastes and he could feel the alcohol going to his brain.  Paul didn't
care.  He was already drunk on Zara.  After he stood there for several
more minutes she patted a spot directly beside her.  He sat gingerly,
being careful not to let his hip touch the generous swell of hers.  She
fixed her eyes on his and said, "Your slacks are rather tight and your
shirt is colorful.  You like to dress... prettily, don't you?"  Paul's
smooth cheeks turned rosy pink.  It was as if she had read his mind.  He
didn't have the will to deny it, or even to stall for time to think.
Instead he admitted, "I have always enjoyed dressing... that way.  Since
I was young."  She nodded and said, "I know the type.  And I spoke to
that girl Janey, who you had one date with.  Hmm?"  "I did go out with
her," he agreed forlornly.  "But it didn't work too well."  Zara smirked
and said, "She told me.  Your penis."  Her hand came up, thumb and
forefinger about two inches apart.  "It is too small."  He turned his
gaze downward in shame.  "Yes.  That's true."  She chuckled.  "That's
good."  "It is?"  "Very good."

They finished their drinks in silence, Zara appearing content and Paul
trying not to squirm with unease.  She finally got up and said, "Be a
good boy and help me undress."  She turned her back to him.  He rose
shakily and unfastened the tiny clasp at the nape of her neck, then
lowered the zipper.  She slid out of the garment in one long sinuous
movement.  Zara stood there, a goddess to be worshipped, in just sexy
lingerie and heels.  She commanded him, "Strip.  All the way."  In a daze
he did as he was told.  She turned back to him, eyed his crotch, his
immature genitals, graced with only a wisp of sandy pubic hair, and
grinned.  "Oh yes," she said with satisfaction, "you will be perfect."
He found himself following her once more, though the circumstances had
changed drastically.  In her very feminine bedroom she opened the top
drawer of the dresser and took out a pair of filmy panties.  They were
much too small for her wide hips.  She held them out to Paul.  He
accepted them wordlessly.  She knew his secret desire, maybe more
thoroughly than he did.

He stepped into their silkiness and felt their seductive touch as they
slid up his smooth legs.  They captured his undersized parts and
compressed them, hiding them behind an opaque crotch band, and he almost
whimpered with the relief of finally being able to wear something so
desirable in front of a woman.  He would never have dared to don them in
the presence of, for instance, Janey.  True, that date had ended in her
laughter when she got her first look at his equipment, but at least he
had kept his private need confidential.  He sighed happily.  Zara ordered
him onto his knees to remove her own panties.  He couldn't help being
jealous of their quality and cut.  She took them from him and rubbed them
tenderly against his cheek.  She revealed, "I do have feelings for you,
Paul, but everything between us must be on my terms.  Do you accept?"
Utterly under her spell he answered, "Absolutely, Zara.  For as long as
you say."  She grinned at him and said, "Be careful what you accept.
That could be a very long time."  He swiveled his head far enough to kiss
the bit of material she held, as fervently as if his lips were on hers.

Zara went to the bed, laid back comfortably, and parted her long legs.
"Your dick is so tiny, Paul, you will have to satisfy me another way.
Won't you?"  "I will," he said, eager but with just an undercurrent of
trepidation.  The next time he said, "I will," it was three months later
and they were concluding their wedding vows.  She had kept him in panties
that entire time and under his tux he also had on garters, stockings, and
an A-cup bra that didn't show at all.  Their whirlwind courtship and
marriage surprised a lot of people.  When they were together, the
unimpressive Paul next to his magnificent wife, onlookers wondered what
the attraction was.  Paul knew.  She wanted a husband who she could rule
without a hint of male ego opposing her.  And he lived for a wife who
would put him into the feminine outfits he craved, who had taught him to
apply his make-up expertly, and who managed their sex life so that she
enjoyed endless satisfaction and he was starved for conventional
pleasure.  But for Paul, being in her thrall, being her slave, serving
her as if he was a male lesbian, was the ultimate intoxication.  He
didn't want anything else.  He turned his pay over to her every week like
a dutiful, meek wife.

But now, as he helped her dress for that date, feeling so comfortable in
one of his many cherished maid's uniforms, he thought further.  She
fussed with her hair.  He touched his own luxurious dark wig in reaction.
Her dating had started several months after they became man and wife.
She had been attracted to an executive from another company, who she was
dealing with.  Zara made sure he noticed her, wearing sexy but not slutty
outfits.  Each evening she came home and told Paul how hunky Greg
Ballentine was.  After concluding all of their business, Greg asked her
out for dinner.  That was the first time Paul had to help her prepare.
He washed her in the shower, which made his tiny penis stand up and
twitch.  Then he had to dry and powder her magnificent body.  At last she
made him select her lingerie.  He didn't want her to seduce the handsome
and very masculine Greg, but he also wanted her to be happy.  And, as she
had been teaching him all along, he had to do everything on her terms.
Zara made Paul feel fulfilled and he wanted to reciprocate even more than
he did already.  He knew he could never satisfy her in bed, not the way a
real man could.  So he selected fiery red panties and bra, both cut to
show off her stupendous dimensions.  She approved and, after she had done
her make-up and started dressing, she gave him a tender kiss on the
cheek.  "Thank you, Paul.  That was a bit of test, I have to confess."

"D... did I do okay?" he asked hopefully.   "You passed perfectly.  But
there's one more thing.  I don't want to feel like I'm cheating on Paul.
So we have to take you one step further down the path you're on.  From
this moment, whenever you are dressed, I will call you Paulette."  He was
filled with a thrilling sensation.  Paul sank to his knees in gratitude
and told her, his voice choked with emotion, "Thank you, Zara.  I've been
hoping you would give me a new name, one more suited to who I am now, but
I didn't want to be pushy about it."  She patted the top of his head and
told him, "Good girl.  You are learning all the time.  Now fetch my
shoes, the red heels that you're always admiring."  He hurried to comply,
bringing them back and setting them in front of her, so she could slip
her feet in.  Zara looked perfect.  She cupped his smooth chin in her
plump hand and gave him an air kiss.  "While I'm out," she told him,
"there are several chores for you to perform.  The list is posted on the
refrigerator with that magnet I got you, the one with the French maid on
it."  He said he would make sure everything got done and then asked,
"When you get home with you be... needing me?"  She smiled slyly and
said, "I'm sure I'll have something for you to do."

While she was gone he bustled about, cleaning but also stopping to admire
himself in a full length mirror, to consider how lucky he was, and to
appreciate this particular outfit.  The top had puffy shoulders and a
satiny bodice, in black.  Below a wide leather belt with an oversized
gold buckle, a short red skirt flared.  It drew attention downward,
toward his fishnet stockings and the black shoes with red trim, their
three inch block heels adding to his appearance of being a maid but also,
like those stockings, to his image of being a naughtily sex female.  Zara
and he had chosen the outfit together, chatting like two BFFs about which
items to combine for the best effect.  The belt was non-traditional and
there was no apron, but it worked.  He adjusted the cap, at the same
appreciating the reflected image of his fingernails, which were painted
candy apple red.  For long moments he simply stared at himself, but then
remembered that his wife would be displeased if he didn't finish his
assigned tasks.  So off he went once more to dust and polish and wipe and
wash.  The final item on his list was to rearrange her shoes in the walk-
in closet.  She had given him brief instructions about that earlier, but
left them vague so he could place all the footwear how he wanted to see
it.  Zara could be cleverly generous like that.

Hours later everything else was done and he was happily buffing and
lining up her shoes... and boots.  The feminized man thrilled at handling
those latter fashions, which for him symbolized his bride's dominance, as
well as adding inches to her already superior height.  He sighed as he
finally got everything perfectly displayed.  Then he glanced back at the
clock on her dresser and realized she was due home soon.  Not that Zara
felt obligated to stay on any predetermined schedule.  And of course he
had absolutely no say in what she did, not unless she asked for his input
on a new shade of lipstick or eye shadow.  Sometimes she would bring home
something new from the cosmetics department and they would banter about
which of them it would look better on.  He loved it when they acted like
chummy girlfriends.  But now it was almost time for her to breeze through
the door after her night out.  Would she be tired?  Energetic?
Demanding?  He didn't care.  All he wanted was to make her happy.  Paul
made sure his outfit was perfect, fussing over each detail, than checked
himself in the vanity mirror, straightened his wig, and touched up his
make-up.

Almost as soon as he had positioned himself inside the front door, a car
pulled up to their curb.  He edged the curtain back slightly and peered
out.  Greg Ballentine's car was new and top of the line.  He obviously
earned much more than Paul.  But then, so did Zara.  She gave her date a
lingering kiss and then he got out and opened her door.  As they came up
the front walk Paul let the curtain fall back into place.  There was a
slight delay, probably for another kiss or two.  Was that capable man
running his hands over her curves, stealing an extra few feels?  Paul
shuddered with envy but also with a secret thrill.  It was exciting to
have his sexy wife appreciated that way.  Then she came in and saw him
standing there sheepishly.

Zara smiled and said, "Good, Paulette.  I am glad to see you ready to
serve."  She gave him a serious look and asked, "Are all your chores
done?"  He nodded and answered in a small voice, "Yes, Ma'am."  "Even the
shoes?"  "Oh yes," he enthused, adding, "Especially the shoes... and
boots."  She grinned and said, "Maybe we'll go shopping for some booties
for you.  Low ones, with short heels."  He sighed happily and thanked
her.  She went on, "But for right now, let's head to the bedroom.  That
man exhausted me.  He's incredible in bed.  Talk about staying power.
And size."  She chuckled.  "Not like you, Paulette."  The maid/husband
blushed prettily and followed her through the house.  In the bedroom he
helped her undress.  When she was naked she stretched out on top of the
covers, on her back, and parted her legs, telling Paul, "I really got off
on the the orgasms Greg gave me.  They were deep and hard.  But now my
pussy needs some tender loving care.  You know what I want, girl."

Paul eagerly got his face between her full thighs and gave her pussy a
gentle kiss.  She purred contentedly as he began to lick.  While he
teased her clitoris with the tip of his tongue he couldn't stop thinking
about how Greg's large cock had been inside her so recently.  She
murmured something about what a huge load he had left in the condom he
used.  Paul continued to give her pleasure, heard her breathing quicken,
and knew she was mounting toward a climax.  Soon she finished, not
loudly, barely moving her hips, but pleased nevertheless.  Then she told
him to get naked and slip on one of his baby doll nighties.  He did that
and she had him give his crotch a short spray of perfume.  It was a scent
she had selected for him, very feminine and unsubtle.  Then she had him
lie alongside her.  Zara toyed with his nipples through the soft material
of his sleepwear.  He moaned and squirmed under her expert touch.  The
playful woman brought her husband to peak after peak of arousal without
even touching his tiny dick.

At last she rolled onto her side, facing away from him.  Zara said,
"Would you like to give my bottom a goodnight kiss?"  "Oh, yes," he
replied breathily.  Paul slid down until his face was in front of her
broad, well padded sitter.  He lavished kisses on both cheeks and
finished with one deep in the central valley.  She wriggled her backside
against his features.  Then she told him to stay down there until she had
been asleep for a while.  It wasn't until an hour later he felt confident
that she had been sleeping long enough and dared to move back up.  Then
he pressed his soft cheek to the warm skin of her back, relishing the
touch of her flesh against his.  He was so content.  Zara loved him as
much as he loved and worshiped her.  Plus, she was going to buy him his
first pair of girly boots.  He was so very happy.  What could be  better
than the life they had?

Whore Frost

By: Penny Farthing

I watched in horror as the doctor injected my nipples with collagen,
unable to move, my arms secured at the wrists and elbows. They grew and
grew swelling as he filled one and then the other with the clear viscous
fluid.

The week before they had removed most of my belly fat with liposuction,
which they then cleaned and injected into my hips, bottom and breasts,
then they'd laced me into a corset to keep my waist small and encourage
the skin to shrink back from its fat depleted sagging state.

My breasts had each received a kilo of fat and then saline to cause them
to expand into a womanly shape, and they were still bruised from the
implanting of the fat. My nipples and the surrounding areolas had been
tattooed with large roses, from which my expanding nipples were rising
like two molehills in pink.

They were extremely tender once the injections were finished as my lips
had been when I woke up from the procedures the week before. To my horror,
and dread, the doctor injected more fat into my breasts, this time in
several places, presumably to make them a better shape, then a bra with
plastic cups to keep the rounded shape of my now large breasts was fixed
in place. I sucked on the penis gag in my mouth trying not to drool down
my sore and swollen chest.

Further injections were done into my buttocks and hips, from fat they'd
created cloned from my own cells. They'd implanted various oestrogen
depot, slow and fast release in different parts of my body, which
presumably they wanted to feminise more.

I stood tied to a frame, naked except for the plastic bra which showed my
swollen nipples and breasts, and the corset which contracted my now
smaller waist into something approaching a wasp shape, my hips and bottom
swollen with the increased fat in them. From a distance I looked very
female. My once functioning penis had been injected with something which
now meant it was small and flaccid, and which had then been sewn into my
scrotal sac to resemble a pudenda. They told me at first, my balls had
been pushed up into my body cavity, but they hadn't, I'd been castrated,
so the empty sac could be used to form my pseudo labia. I'd have to sit to
pee from then on as well.

My feet were in four inch stiletto shoes, shiny black patent and they were
locked onto my tender feet with a strap and tiny padlock. I couldn't move
them as they were lashed to the frame with tape.

I looked at my painted face, my bright red, glossy lips, the tattooed
eyebrows, shaped exquisitely framing my tinted eyelids and artificially
long permanent lashes. I looked like a tart, the blusher also permanent
making me look as if I was embarrassed, perhaps I was.

My facial and body hair had been removed with laser treatment before the
surgery and it hurts so my skin was a bit blotchy before they did the
spray tan, now it had an unnatural orange glow like some B listed glamour
model--think Essex girl, and that was me, my long blonde tresses,
artificial in colour and length changed my features quite a lot.

I sucked on the penis gag, the tube feeding me my nourishment ran through
it and I swallowed it down. The room darkened and they put the earphones
into my ears again, momentarily tangling them on the huge silver hoops
which dangled permanently from my ear lobes. They'd been soldered together
and I had four sets each smaller than the other as they moved towards the
rear of my ear lobes.

I lifted my head back as I swallowed my meal from the penis gag. The small
scar on my throat was now fading, they'd done a shave to reduce my adam's
apple and I think they did something to my vocal chords because the last
time I tried to say anything I sounded like a little girl.

"Hi, Laura," said the seductive voice in my head, "remember how you like
to suck dick, and my dick in particular. Well keep sucking girl, it'll
help your breasts to grow even bigger and you know you want big tits like
all the rest of the whores you'll be working with."

"Like Michelle, you live to suck cock, you love the taste of cum, so suck
down some more of my little sperm, it's your favourite drink." The stuff I
was swallowing apparently did contain sperm, a painkiller and a hypnotic.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I had a vague recollection of Michelle,
but I wasn't called Laura Frost then, I was called Laurence, I think, and
Michelle was Mr Good's girlfriend---that Mr Good, the one whose cock I want
to suck.

I had a flashback to being caught with Michelle giving me fellatio and
being dragged off by a couple of his thugs. Nah, that can't be right, I've
only ever wanted to be a whore and suck dicks, just like the voices say. I
want to wear outlandish clothes and act outrageously with men, if I really
like them, I might take it up the arse for them--I've got a plug up there
now, which vibrates and sends me into Nirvana. I only dribble a tiny bit
from my clit these days if the plug hits my G-spot, but it is so good--I
know I know, oh how much longer have I got to wait to wear real fetish
stuff, oh this cock in my mouth is sooo good, it's modelled from Mr
Good's---I can't wait to taste the real thing.

The voice continues for a while longer, then the lights come back up and
my feet are numb in my shoes, so are my hands, I try to move them and pins
and needles start in my fingers. My breasts look heavier than ever, they
say I'm going to be a double D cup with nipples an inch long and half an
inch in diameter. The plastic bra catches the light and I can feel my
nipples itching--they want to be sucked and I want a cock, why can't they
let me go and let me suck on a dick?