Lady Janice of Sterling

`Lady Janice of Sterling By RH Music`

Posted with permission from RH Music

Email RH Music

PART II: The Situation Begins to Spiral Out of Control

Chapter 13: Household Chores

At the exact same time that Jack was putting the moves on my wife, I was in my office, having a homemade sandwich for lunch.

It was now about two months since I had started wearing bras (during the day) and nightgowns (during the night) for Janice.

Two months, and so many changes!

My mind traveled over to my briefcase, which I knew contained a moist pair of panties that Janice had worn just yesterday. Should I take them out to enjoy them for a minute? My penis shifted uncomfortably in my tight, white, control-top panty.

My life was now overflowing with sexual tension, and all of Janice's little daily rituals and 'new traditions' seemed to just pile it on.

For example, it wasn't enough that my penis was encased in lacy, silky panties. It wasn't enough that my breasts were being encased and hugged by a satiny bra, which tugged at my shoulders whenever I moved.

No, that wasn't nearly enough for Janice.

Because I had to have her soiled panties with me as well. "So you can take them out and smell me, whenever you'd like," she said, sweetly. "All part of my nefarious plan to make you totally addicted to my body, to bind you to me... forever."

As if I wasn't already bound by our marriage vows. I took another look at the briefcase. In my mind's eye I could see her midnight blue nylon panties nestled in the zip-loc bag, tucked in behind some papers.

Later tonight I knew I would be seeing tomorrow's panties up close and personal, since my worship of her crotch had become a part of our daily ritual.

It began every morning at her dressing table. Each and every day she would provide me a copy of my oath which, with my nose in her crotch, I would be required to recite.

Recently, at Janice's suggestion, I had begun making additions to my daily oath. These were always worshipful suggestions, and they would change every day. For example, I might start off with, "I, Paul Johnson, completely under the spell of my goddess, who controls me, mind, body and spirit, do solemnly swear..."

Or, I might add on to her name, and say something like "Lady Janice, whose smells, touch, taste, and vision I have become dependent upon as much as I have become dependent on air for breathing..."

Yes, corny, I know. But it's all just role-playing, right? If you can't be corny with your wife while playing a role, then when can you?

Of course, at some point the boundaries between role and reality begin to blur... or disappear.

Like cooking, for example. All of the dinners became my responsibility, as well as all of the cleaning around the house. Was that part of the role, or was that part of real life? Janice was getting home later and later, and her job had gotten a lot busier after her promotion.

Janice and I had both been elated with her promotion, of course. She saw it as evidence that her newly assertive personality was being rewarded in the workplace. Cynically, I thought that it probably had just as much to do with her shorter dresses, stockings, low-cut blouses, and high-heels. But of course, I would never say that to her.

So I began to work through lunch so I could leave a half-hour early to get home in time to prepare dinner. Janice was always very particular about having dinner ready for her as soon as she got home. "By the time I get home, it's already late for dinner," she explained, "and I just don't think we should make it one minute later. Don't you agree?"

Of course I did... it made sense. And I really didn't mind cooking for her, after all, she was always so appreciative of my efforts.

But she definitely wanted dinner on time! Once I had to stay late at work - something came up at the last minute - and so dinner was not quite done when she got home.

"What do you mean, it's not ready?" She asked, on the verge of being angry.

"I'm... it's just... something came up at work, and I just couldn't get home in time..." I stammered, surprised at her attitude.

"Fine!" she said, "I'll just make my own dinner."

And to my astonishment, she went to the kitchen and made herself a sandwich.

"But... dinner will be ready in just 35 minutes," I pleaded with her. "Can't you wait?"

She glared at me. "I expect dinner to be ready when I walk in the door," she said. "We talked about it, right? We agreed, right? And yet, it's not done. 35 minutes is exactly 35 minutes too late. I am going to eat this sandwich and then go to bed, and if you know what's good for you, you'll sleep in the guest bedroom tonight."

And with that, Janice took her sandwich into the bedroom and slammed the door.

***

That was the last time I was late for dinner! From then on, I made sure to always have a backup plan, something which could be thrown together quickly, just in case.

My boss, Rachael, certainly noticed the difference.

"Your productivity has dropped, Paul," she said as we had our quarterly meeting together. "Your task completion is down by more than 30%... is everything OK?"

"Oh, sure," I said, "It's just..."

"Just what?"

"Well, Janice has had to work late a lot recently, she just got a promotion... and well, I guess I've had to take on a larger share of the housework."

"Really??" Rachael's eyes lit up at my admission. "If only I could find a husband like you! I'll have to ask Janice how she convinced you to sacrifice your career for hers."

"Well, that's not how I'd put it..." I said quickly, horrified at Rachael's implication. "It'll just be temporary, really. Just until Janice has a chance to clean up the mess at work she inherited."

"Well, I wouldn't be too sure," Rachael said. "Regardless, I'll have to shift some of your tasks to Daniel, I hope that's okay. After all, the work has to get done."

My heart sunk. I knew that unless I started working more hours I might be out of a job.

"Sure," I said, "but it will only be temporary, I swear."

***

Unfortunately, it wasn't just dinner that was cutting into my work hours. Over the last month, Janice had pretty much made it clear that I was to be responsible for all of the housework as well.

"Sweetie..." she would always start this way. "I brought home a ton of work to do. Could you do the laundry? It really needs to be done."

Or, "I'm sorry, honey, there's no way I'm going to be able to clean the bathrooms today, and they are getting positively filthy. Would you be a dear and do it for me?"

"Maybe it's time to get maid service?" I inquired, cautiously one evening.

"No way!" Janice slammed her palm down on the table, causing me to jump. "Strangers? Wandering around our house? Doing who knows what? What if they discovered all of your lady's lingerie?"

"I guess you have a point," I backed down, quickly.

"Honey," Janice said, soothingly, "I know you've had to do all this extra work around the house, but I promise, I'll pitch in as soon as my job starts to let up a bit." Janice reached over to stroke my neck.

"OK..." I said, mollified somewhat.

"But until I do, would you mind washing my stockings? I know it's a pain, but they really do need to be washed by hand and then hung up to dry. They are expensive, and they really need just the best of care."

I looked into her eyes, feeling completely trapped. With her new job, Janice was making considerably more money than I was, and so I knew it just made sense that I picked up the slack at home.

"Yes, I can do them," I said, defeated, taking on yet another household chore.

"You're the best," she said.

***

And so I was kept busy. Evenings were spent cooking dinner and cleaning up. Weekends were spent doing laundry and cleaning the house from top to bottom, including vacuuming, dusting, scrubbing toilets, etc. etc.

I found myself reluctantly taking on chores, which we had never done before. Things like hand-washing our lingerie. They had always been machine washed before, but now, for some reason, Janice felt that only hand-washing (and hang-drying) would do.

And ironing the sheets. Janice had *never*, *ever*, ironed sheets before, but now I was supposed to do it. And since I had to wash the sheets every week, which meant ironing them every week as well.

"The sheets look wonderful!" Janice enthused, after I had ironed them for the first time. "Don't you think they look so nice and crisp! Oh, I can't thank you enough, I've always wanted to do them, but never had time. Thank you, Paul."

"You're welcome," I mumbled.

Well, at least she was grateful.

Pretty soon I was ironing not only the sheets, but Janice's entire wardrobe as well.

"Honey?" Janice called out.

"Yes?" Janice was in her closet when I entered.

"I'm totally swamped preparing for the meeting tomorrow. Would you mind?" She held up her blouse.

"Mind what?" I asked, not comprehending.

"I need you to iron this blouse for me, if it's not too much trouble. I wouldn't ask, except I'm going to be getting to bed late enough as-is."

"Sure!" I agreed, assuming that this was a one-time thing.

"And...?" she asked, tentatively.

"Something else?"

"Well, the only shoes I have to wear with this suit are these black ones, but they're all scuffed up..."

"Do you want me to shine them for you?"

"Would you? Oh Paul, I don't know how I'd cope without you!"

"Sure..." I sighed.

"Oh, and if you could touch up this skirt with the iron that'd be great, too. It got a little creased the last time I wore it. Thanks!"

***

Of course the next night, Janice asked me to iron her clothes again. And this time, she had a dark blue pair of shoes, which needed to be cleaned and polished.

On the third night, she didn't even ask. I just found her outfit, blouse, suit, and shoes waiting for me.

***

Other than all of the cooking, cleaning, and laundry, there were easily a thousand other small tasks, which Janice asked of me -- tasks which I would group into the category of 'personal servant'.

Anything and everything which Janice needed, if she could get me to do it, she would.

"Paul? Take these to Office Depot and get 5 copies of each, collated and stapled. Thanks."

"Paul? I just left my clothes on the floor over there. Would you mind putting them in the hamper? Thanks."

"Paul? I need you to take this suit to the cleaners, OK? And you'll pick it up when it's done, won't you?"

"Paul? I need to take this hem up, just a half inch. You can do that, can't you? Oh, and don't use the machine, I know you can do a better job by hand. Thanks!"

"Paul? Would you make a fresh cup of coffee for me? Thanks!"

At some point, after a particularly exasperating evening of request after request, I was just about fed up. I had just gone out to the office supply store where I bought a new red pen for Janice. A whole trip out for just one fucking ballpoint pen!

"Here's your pen," I said, slamming it down on the desk where she was working. "Maybe in the future I should kneel by your side, so I could be instantly available for your next command, my Lady Janice?" I said, with heavy, heavy sarcasm.

"Really?" Janice looked up at me. "What a wonderful idea!"

"No!" I stepped back, horrified. "I was just joking!"

"Maybe you were," she said, "but it's still a good idea. After all, sometimes it seems like I wait forever until you answer my call."

Janice got up and fetched a throw-pillow from the closet. She dropped it on the floor next to her desk.

"From now on," she said, "this is your 'beck and call' pillow. Whenever this is on the floor, I want you to be kneeling on it, ready to handle my every need."

"No..." I moaned. "Please, no. I have a life too... I mean..."

"Listen," Janice reasoned with me, "My work is just insane now. OK? And the sooner I can get through this, the sooner our life can get back to normal. You want that, don't you?"

"Yes..."

"Well then, surely you'll want to help out in any way that you can, right? If only temporarily?"

"Sure... I guess."

"In any way you can?"

I sighed. "Yes, in any way I can."

"Good. Now kneel on the pillow..."

I hesitated. Would I really do this? "But Janice, this is just too much. I mean, I really do want to help out, but this..."

"You said yesterday that you would do whatever you could, right?"

"Yes, I remember..."

"Well, can you do this? Is it impossible for you to kneel here next to me and be my assistant?"

"No, it's not impossible, but I just think my time could be better used elsewhere."

"I'll be the judge of that," Janice said, coldly. "I need you to be here for me. Specifically, I need to you be right here, kneeling and ready to help at a moment's notice, for me. You said you would do anything you can. You can do this. So kneel."

I hid my face in my hands, for some reason, I was suddenly very short of breath.

"Paul?" Janice looked at me, expectantly.

I hesitated and turned away for a second. For some reason, my breath was coming out in only short, quick gasps. I closed my eyes and tried to think, but all I had pounding through my head was her cold words: 'You can do this'.

"I don't have all evening," she said, behind me.

I turned around and looked at Janice with weepy eyes. She simply pointed to the pillow by her side.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I sank down and knelt on my new 'beck and call pillow'. I knew I was giving in and giving up a part of my freedom. Intellectually, I might have thought it was only temporary, something needed to help with her job. But if I had been honest with myself, I think I always knew that it would become a permanent part of our life together.

A single tear leaked out of my eye as I looked up at Janice, who had already turned back to her work.

After about 10 minutes, Janice gave me her first command. Without even glancing in my direction she said, "Go to the 24 hour grocery store and purchase a dog collar for a large dog," she said, simply.

"What?" I asked, incredulous. "Why do you need that?"

**WHAM** Janice slammed her palm on the desk, causing me to jerk away. "NEVER ASK WHY!!" she shouted. "WHY DO YOU HAVE TO KNOW *WHY*? I THINK THE COMMAND IS CLEAR, ISN'T IT?"

After a second to settle down, Janice continued in a more reasonable tone.

"I realize this is new," she said, "so I really shouldn't be so upset. But I've always hated that you have to know the reasons for everything. So, rule number 1: never ask why. If a command is unclear, you can ask for clarification on exactly *what* you need to do. But you may never ask *why*. My reasons are my own."

Suddenly I realized just how dominant Janice had become. Her outburst made it clear that this was her new personality... this was not 'role- playing' any more. At least not for her.

"Do you understand?" Janice asked, quietly.

"Yes."

"Now, let's try again. Go to the 24 hour grocery store and purchase a dog collar for a large dog."

Without saying a word, I got up, got my car keys, and headed out of the house.

Fortunately, the grocery store is pretty close, and so in about 20 minutes I was back, kneeling on the 'beck and call' pillow and holding the dog collar.

As soon as I was back, Janice gave me her next command.

"Take off all your clothes except your panties and bra. Take the dog collar out of its package and put it on."

When I was done, I went back to kneeling on the pillow. The dog collar fit snugly around my neck. I understood now that it was intended to make me feel more subservient and conscious of my new role.

It worked.

And what was worse, it worked on my penis too. I was rock hard. Janice looked me over, approvingly.

"Much better," she said, "now you look the part."

***

And then Janice began to talk.

The talk was all about her new job, specifically the data she was in the process of compiling, what the data might say about how things were being run and what kind of a job her staff was doing, and how things might be improved.

"So, what do you think I should do?" she asked.

I was taken aback. I had been on my knees for the better part of an hour. Since there was nothing else to do, I had been quietly listening to her talk, learning more about her new job than I had learned over the previous month.

After I gave her my opinion, she nodded and then went back to work.

And then it hit me: Janice needed more than just a lackey to run her errands, she wanted someone to bounce ideas off of, to discuss things at work with her!

Suddenly, my new position felt about 100 times easier to bear. She didn't want me for just what my *body* could do, but she also wanted my *mind* as well.

Of course, there was also another way to look at it, which I didn't realize until much later. Over the last two months, Janice had successfully brought my body into her service, and now she was bringing my mind, all of my mental capacities, into her servitude as well.

So there I knelt, occasionally fetching a glass of water or a snack, and listening to Janice talk and talk.

And then I made my second mistake of the evening.

"I have an idea..." I said, breaking into her discussion.

Janice's face turned to stone, as she fixed me with a frosty stare. I could tell she was just barely keeping her temper in check.

"When I want your ideas, I will ask for them. Otherwise, you do *NOT* speak unless spoken too. Do you understand?"

"Yes..." I mumbled, "I'm sorry."

"Not sorry enough, I don't think..." she muttered, as she got up from her desk and left the room.

She came back with a wet bar of soap and a role of duct tape.

"Open up!" she said.

Janice pushed the soap into my mouth, tore off a piece of duct tape, and then taped my mouth shut.

"There!" she said. "Problem solved. And I bet you won't forget your position and talk out of turn again."

And, just as if nothing was amiss, Janice sat back down at her desk and resumed her work.

After just a few minutes, my mouth was full of saliva and I had to swallow. Ugh! Soapy saliva ran down my throat.

As time wore on, the bar dissolved more and more, and I was finding it harder and harder to keep everything together.

After thirty minutes, I began to tear up.

After forty-five minutes I began to shake.

At fifty-five minutes, Janice stopped her monologue and looked at me.

"My poor dear," she said, gently. "Have we learned our lesson?"

I frantically nodded my head.

"And you promise to never again speak unless spoken to?"

I nodded, tears running down my cheeks.

"You swear?"

Once more, I nodded.

"OK, you can go take the soap out of your mouth."

And with that I raced to the bathroom, where I ripped the duct tape from my face and rinsed my mouth out with water.

***

I now understood exactly how Janice wanted me to behave when I knelt on the 'beck and call' pillow. First, I was to wear only panties, a bra, and my dog collar. Second, I was to jump up, *immediately*, whenever Janice asked for something. Third, I was pay careful attention, quietly, to everything she said, and fourth I was only to speak when asked to.

After a week or two of 'beck and call', I realized something else: That I enjoyed it.

First of all, it was undeniably sexy, kneeling before my sexy wife in only my panties, being submissive and helpful.

But more than that it was relaxing. During 'beck and call', I had nothing to do and nothing to worry about. I would just immediately fulfill every one of Janice's requests. Janice was in charge. I had no rights, and therefore, no responsibilities.

It was strangely liberating.

Gradually, Janice began to use 'beck and call' more and more often. One evening I found the 'beck and call' pillow in front of the couch.

"Tonight's my night off," Janice said, smiling at me. "But not yours!"

And so, seeing the pillow on the floor, I dutifully stripped down to panties and a bra, put on my collar, and knelt before her.

The demands that evening were all much more personal than normal. The first request was for a foot massage.

"And take your time at it," she commanded.

Of course, I have always had a minor foot fetish, and the smell of her sweat intermingled with shoe leather was wonderfully. I was fully erect in no time.

"Mmmmmm," she purred, "that's wonderful. I'm going to have to do this more often."

'Uh-oh,' I thought to myself.

After the foot massage was a pedicure. Janice instructed me on how to clean off the old nail polish, clean up the nails and cuticles, and then to apply new polish (two coats of color, and a coat of sealant).

Once I had done the nails on her feet, it was basically the same procedure for the nails on her hands.

"Why, they're wonderful!" Janice said, admiringly. I blushed a bit at her compliments. I was proud of how careful a job I had been able to do.

"This will save me so much time," she continued, "not having to go to the salon to get my nails done. Thank you sweetie!"

Janice kissed me on the cheek, sealing my fate. Unwittingly I had just agreed to yet another task - that of personal manicurist.

After nails, Janice had me give her a neck massage ("Mmmmm," she said, purring contentedly) and then brush out her hair ("one hundred strokes!").

And then finally, the last task: trim her pubic hair.

"Cut it nice and short," she said, "I just hate when it peeks out from around my panties. Don't you?"

And so, with a small pair of scissors, I *very* carefully trimmed the hair around her pussy so it was a nice, neat bush.

When I was done, Janice wiggled her hips enticingly at me. "As long as you're down there..." she said.

I looked up at her. I was between her legs, kneeling on my 'beck and call' pillow. For some reason, I don't know why, I didn't do anything. I just waited for her. I guess I was waiting to be told what to do... like I was supposed to do when at her 'beck and call'.

"Lick my pussy," Janice said, delighted to give me the direct command.

***

Of all the changes to which I was forced to submit, this was perhaps the most pleasurable: I spent a lot of time between my wife's legs.

It started as soon as she got home. Always, I would greet her, drop immediately to my knees, wait for her to raise her skirt, and then kiss the crotch of her panties where it covered her pubic mound. The same thing happened every morning when I would kiss her "good bye".

Once she had established the 'beck and call' pillow, Janice started dropping it directly in front of her. This always meant that I was to kneel with my face gently nestled in her crotch. If she was working at her desk, it further meant that I would have to crawl under the desk, being careful to not bump my head.

Of course, even with me in this position, Janice would keep talking about her work, occasionally reaching down to push in on the back of my head, causing my face to press deeper into her crotch, sometimes rubbing her pubic mound up and down over my face, pressing my nose deep into the cotton covered valley of her vagina.

And then, getting ready for bed, we would start each night by putting a condom on me. Janice would do this herself. First, she would lift up my nightie, pull down my panties, and then pull out my penis. No matter what, I was always hard -- surrounded as I was all day by her dominant personality, my feminine lingerie, and her smells of sex, musk, and other bodily functions -- I really couldn't help myself. Submitting passively to her commands meant that I was generally hard most of the day.

And so, it was always an easy matter for her to take the condom, place it on the head of my penis, and then roll it down the shaft of my penis with long, firm, knee-weakening, strokes.

After tucking my penis back into my panties and smoothing out my nightgown, Janice would lay in bed, propped up by pillows, and with legs spread. She would point to her pussy and say, simply, "lick."

And I would. And I loved it. Nestled between her legs, lapping at her pussy, sucking and nibbling and licking the nubbin of her clitoris, hearing her moaning and grasping my head as she came -- it was fantastic.

After orgasming, she would shout at me to hold very still and not move a muscle, my head trapped between her thighs, my face pressed hard against her pussy, her legs clenching and unclenching, and her pussy spasming against my face until her orgasm had completely washed over her.

And then she would hold very still, gradually coming down from her high, my nose filled with wet, sticky pussy hair, my breath coming out in tiny gasps - nearly suffocating, my mouth full of her juices.

"Now clean me up," she would say next, and I would dutifully lick her entire crotch area with the intention of cleaning up her juices. And everything I licked up, I would have to swallow. No towels or facial tissue allowed. I would always start with her thighs, then move to her belly and then on the outsides of her pussy lips. Proper cleanup often required sucking on her pubic hair to make sure that all of her sexual lubrications were cleansed away and swallowed. And then, finally, once she had settled down and her sensitivity decreased, I would be allowed to run my tongue carefully through her vagina, scooping out juices and saliva and swallowing it all, sucking with the intention of sucking up fluids and making sure that everything was as clean as possible.

And, of course, the cleanup process often made her horny for a second go-round, and then we started all over again. And then, sometimes a third time, and just once: a fourth time.

Thank goodness for the condom! Janice instituted the condom so I wouldn't stain my lingerie with "accidents", which almost always happened. After all, I was lovingly performing a most intimate act with my face, tongue, and lips kissing her and licking her and absorbing her juices -- including pussy juice and (possibly) drops of urine. And my penis would be rubbing against the bed, and I was always wearing some luscious nightgown or babydoll nightie, and of course I had been intensely over-stimulated all day long.

And so it was not uncommon for me to come once or twice in my condom.

And every time she would say, "Oh! I see you've taken care of yourself. How nice! You must really like to lick my pussy, don't you?"

And of course, I would have to admit that I do. In fact, that I love it.

"I'm so glad!" she would say, pulling on a pair of panties, pulling up the covers. "It's only just the best way to prepare for bed," after which she would drift off to sleep.

***

But one night, I was able to control myself.

"I haven't come yet," I told her, "do you think we could.... ?"

"What, have intercourse?" Janice asked. Suddenly she looked very tired. "I'm sorry sweetie! But you just wore me out! I guess you're just too good at pussy licking. Not that *I'm* complaining, mind you!"

"But..." I indicated my hard penis.

"Oh, sweetie, I won't mind at all if you go into the bathroom and jerk- off."

"Okay..."

"Oh, don't you look like a poor puppy dog. Here, I'll help." Janice picked up her panties and wiped her pussy with them. She had been wearing the panties all day long, so they were already pretty rank.

"Take these into the bathroom and smell them as you jack-off. Okay?"

"Okay..."

"And as you smell these, and as you're pulling on your cock, I want you to recite something for me, would you do that?"

"Sure."

"Good! Just say this over and over: 'More than anything, I love the taste and smell of my wife's pussy.' Can you do that for me?"

"Yes."

"Good boy!"

And with a pat on my behind, Janice directed me to the bathroom, where I sat on the toilet, stroking my hard cock through the nightgown with one hand, and holding the crotch of her wet panties to my nose with the other. As I breathed her sent in deep, I recited my lines over and over: 'More than anything, I love the taste and smell of my wife's pussy. More than anything, I love the taste and smell of my wife's pussy. More than anything..."

***

And so, over time, I became to feel safe and loved when I was between her legs. It was comforting. And true to her evil plans, I had, in fact, become addicted to her smells, and whenever stressed at work I would take out her old panties (usually still moist) from my briefcase, and take a good long smell. It never failed to calm me down.

***

And so there I was, in the office, looking at my briefcase.

Realizing that it was hopeless, I reached over, snapped open the cover, and pulled out the plastic bag which contained her panties.

"Whatcha got there?" Rachael asked, appearing at my door as if from out of nowhere.

I looked, surprised, and quickly hid the panties in my lap.

"Ummm... it's personal."

"Oh? Come on, Paul, I'm your friend. You can tell me anything."

"Uh..." I squirmed, desperately trying to think of a good lie to explain what I was holding. "They're from Janice..." I began, lamely.

"Really?" Rachael said, her eyes opening wide. "You mean, like something of hers which you carry around in your briefcase all day?"

"Uhhh... yeah," I admitted.

"So, what is it?" Rachael's voice had a slightly harder, more demanding edge to it than I was used to.

I blushed bright red at this point. "Panties," I mumbled.

Janice clapped her hands over her mouth in surprise. "How delightful!" she squealed. "Honestly, she has you so well trained, I just can't believe it. I'm going to have to talk to her sometime."

"No!" I said, frightened by what Janice might say to my boss. "I mean, she's awfully busy these days."

"I see," Rachael said, not buying my excuse for a second. "Anyway, Paul, the reason why I came in here is that your work is still falling behind, and so I've had to shift a couple of your biggest projects off to Daniel."

I started to protest, but Rachael was having none of it.

"I know that this is just temporary, until you and Janice get things back on track. I mean, you've been a great employee in the past, so I'm more than willing to cut you some slack... for a little while."

"Thanks, Rachael..." I said, feeling powerless and defeated as I watched my career crumble before my eyes, "I appreciate it."

"Well, it's not all just me being nice to you. Now that Daniel's doing the bulk of your old job, I was hoping that you wouldn't mind helping me out as an assistant... just until you get back on your feet, of course."

"What do you mean?"

"Well you know my secretary left last week, and I've had the devil of a time finding someone to replace her and things are just piling up left and right. I know it's not really in your job description, but, again, it's only until I've found someone permanent and you're able to devote 100% to your old job again."

I looked at Rachael in shock. Secretary? She wanted me to be her secretary??

"So, what do you say?" Rachael asked. "You'd really be doing me a huge favor. It's more than secretarial work -- you'd really be my organizational assistant."

And so, wanting to get back on Rachael's good side, I agreed.

***

Just then, Janice received a phone call.

"Hello, this is Janice," she said, all business.

"Hello... Lady Janice of Sterling," said the man on the other end of the line.

Chapter 14: Janice wants to move things to the next level

"I want to move things to the next level," said Janice.

I was kneeling next to Janice on my 'beck and call' pillow.

"What do you mean?" I asked, worried.

"Well, I want you to be more feminine," Janice said, simply. "I get horny when you become more feminine."

I gulped. Janice was repeating her mind-control command back to me... where did that come from??

"Like what?" I asked.

"First," she said, in a businesslike fashion, "I want you to go to my stylist and have her color your hair."

"What color?"

Janice smiled. "Nothing too noticeable. Just a lighter brown with blonde highlights. And she'll also give you a more feminine cut, as well. And, let's pluck these eyebrows into a thin, arching feminine shape, shall we?"

"Uhmmmm..." I started, about to object, but Janice cut me off.

"Second, it's time to get earrings in both ears. Lots of men do it, and so should you."

"No...." I said, feeling the pit in my stomach start to ache.

"Third, laser hair removal. I want you to permanently remove all your facial hair."

"What??"

"And, of course, you'll need to shave your legs and underarms every day," Janice continued.

"Janice, please..."

Unfortunately, she wasn't done yet. "Fourth, I think it's time you started to wear dresses, at least at home, and who knows, maybe we'll go out too?"

"No!"

"And finally, I want you to get a tattoo. Something simple, but exquisitely feminine. Like a small rose on your shoulder."

I got up off the pillow and backed away from Janice. "No!" I said, "I can't do all that! I... I won't! Already I'm about to lose my job at work, if I start going in with earrings, blonde hair, and plucked eyebrows they will think I've lost my mind!"

"So, you're OK with the hair removal and the tattoo?" Janice asked.

"No! Just stop!"

"Listen," Janice said, "I can't force you to do these things. I don't want to force you to do these things. I much rather that you do them on your own."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Janice."

"However," she said, with an evil smile, "I can help 'encourage' you to do the right thing."

"Encourage? How?"

"You're still at my beck and call, right?"

"Yes..."

"Fine, lean over and touch your knees with your hands."

I did as instructed. My panties pulled tight over my bottom.

Janice opened up the side drawer of her desk and pulled out a wooden paddle. "Say 'hello' to your encouragement!" Janice said.

Janice stepped behind me and began to very lightly massage my buns with the paddle.

"This will be known as your 'evening spanking,'" Janice said. "You will receive a spanking every evening until you agree to each and every one of my requests. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I said, my voice quivering.

"And after each spanking," the way she was talking, Janice had clearly expected that I would refuse, "I will ask you if you still refuse me. Only after the spanking will you be given the opportunity to accept my demands. Do you understand?"

"Yes... but please, Janice... please!" I was pleading with her. And yet, for some reason, I just stood there, my hands on my knees, bent over with my ass a waiting target for her paddle. Why didn't I just get up and run away?

Did I want the spanking?

"And just to make things interesting," Janice said, this time with an evil cackle, "every time you refuse me, I will give you not just one, but two more days of spankings. Do you understand?"

"Janice... please!!"

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" Janice grabbed my hair and pulled it back, hard.

"Yes!" I said, suddenly frightened of her.

"Good," she said. "Now, let's begin."

**WHACK** with no warning or build-up Janice hauled back the paddle and brought it down on my pantied ass.

SHIT! that hurt! I danced on my toes but kept my position.

**WHACK**

"Unh," I grunted. The panties seemed to provide no protection whatsoever.

"Feel nice?" Janice asked, coyly. "Do you think you'll like getting spanked every night? Hmmmm?"

**WHACK**

"Gaaah!" I said.

**WHACK**

What was wrong with me??? Why was I just standing here and taking this???

**WHACK**

I couldn't help myself: I reached back with my hands to try and fend off further spanks. But Janice was having none of it, she just grabbed on to both wrists, held them tightly together at the small of my back with one hand and continued spanking with the other.

**WHACK**

"NNNnnnhhhh!" I cried out. This time I struggled to try and move away or to free my hands, but her grip on my wrists was firm and I got nowhere. Janice pushed my arms further up my back, causing me to bend over even more.

**WHACK**

"OHhh! Please!" I shouted.

"Please, what?" Janice said, evilly.

**WHACK**

God, the pain was getting bad! The spanks were definitely getting harder. I stomped my foot, trying to cope.

**WHACK**

SHIT! My ass was on fire! Pain radiated out from my tortured buns, causing me to loose my breath.

**WHACK**

Just as I had decided I couldn't take even one more swat, Janice said "And now, one more for luck!"

**WHACK**

Janice released me and I fell down onto my 'beck and call' pillow, holding my ass and whimpering in pain. My face was wet! Apparently I had been crying.

"Get up!" she hissed, as she grabbed me by the arm and dragged me over to the bed.

Janice lay back on the pillows, spread her legs and pointed to her pussy, and said, "lick!"

Janice was sopping wet. She had become turned on by spanking me!

But even worse than that, once the spanking stopped, my penis became hard.

Her juices flowed over my lips and face as I immediately attacked her clit.

"Yes! Yes!" Janice shouted. "Yesssssss...." she grunted. Reaching down and grasping my head she pulled me tight to her crotch. As I was clutched in this vise grip, Janice tensed up...and came.

"Ohhhh..." she sighed, releasing me.

And that's exactly when I felt it: my penis jerking, waves of pleasure, my balls clenching. I had come too.

***

I lay in bed awake that night, going over and over what had just happened. Next to me, Janice was snoring softly.

Why had I done it? Why had I just bent over and let Janice spank me? And did I really find it pleasurable? If not, then why had it been so easy to orgasm afterwards?

I looked over at Janice. Her face was angelic when she was sleeping, just like her old self. I couldn't see even a hint of the controlling, demanding person that she had become. Her new personality.

Her new personality, which was all my fault.

If only I hadn't implanted the mind control command, then Janice wouldn't be 'Lady Janice,' instead she would be just 'Janice,' my loving, if somewhat traditional, wife.

But which Janice did I really want? The conventional, cuter, sweeter Janice? Or the newly aggressive, demanding, controlling Janice?

I felt my penis shift inside my tight panties. *sigh*, just thinking of the new Janice made me hard. It was becoming increasingly clear that I was, deep down, truly submissive. The more dominant Janice became, the more I submitted to her will, and the more submissive and pliable I became in general.

But I was beginning to reach my breaking point.

Blonde hair, laser hair removal, ear-rings... what was I going to do about those things?

Of course I realized that nothing but the laser hair removal would be permanent, and that would take several treatments, probably.

Oh yeah, and except the tattoo, of course.

In fact, it was the tattoo, which bothered me the most. A rose tattoo, on my shoulder. A permanent mark on my body demonstrating my new position. Since it would be on the back of my shoulder, I knew I could keep it hidden, but still -- this was something that could never be undone.

But what was the problem? After all, I had agreed to other permanent changes in my life -- wearing panties and bras forever and ever. I had made a solemn oath, after all.

But although my oaths were technically "permanent", I knew there was nothing physically permanent. Not like the tattoo... or the hair removal. Did I really want to give up any possibility of growing a beard or a moustache in the future?

And where would all this stop? Would Janice next want me to get breast implants? Take hormones?

And what about... oh my god... Sexual Reassignment Surgery?

Stealthily I slipped out of bed. Janice snorted and rolled over, but stayed sound asleep. I grabbed my wallet from my nightstand and then walked to my closet.

From the closet I gathered a change of clothes: jeans, an old shirt, socks. Searching in back I found a pair of old sneakers that I don't think Janice realized that I still had. After a second's indecision, I decided to add a clean pair of panties (Janice had removed all of my male underwear) and a bra to the pile (out of habit, I suppose).

Next I went to the kitchen for a paper bag and the spare keys to the car, which we always keep in the 'junk drawer'. Then I top-toed quietly to the garage.

Once in the garage, I placed the clothes in the paper bag along with money and a credit card (one which I rarely used), and then placed the bag under the back seat of my car. Next I took my spare keys and hid them on a shelf at the back of the garage, behind some old paint cans.

As I slipped back into bed, a sense of relief flowed over me. I had no idea how things were going to turn out between Janice and me -- how much more dominant she would become and how much more I could take of it -- but at least now I had an escape plan.

Chapter 15: More Encouragement

"Here's your first assignment, Paul: Filing papers!" Rachael said.

It was Monday, my first day as Rachael's 'organizational assistant', and I was in her office getting instructions.

"My god, Rachael, I never realized how bad things were!" I said. Papers and folders where piled in stacks all over her office, with a couple of them as much as three feet (1m) high!

"This isn't the worst of it, come with me," Rachael led me to the office next door. "See why I need help?"

The office next door was completely full. Only a small path led inside, all the rest of the available space was stacked high with folders, papers, and binders.

Rachael smiled at me. "The best part about having you as an assistant is that you already know our company and customers so well. It's fantastic, because there's so much I can use you for."

I shifted, feeling uncomfortable in my new role. Should I allow myself to be 'used' by my boss?

'But it's only temporary,' I kept telling myself.

***

That night, I was kneeling on the 'beck and call' pillow when Janice pulled out the spanking paddle.

"It's time," she said. "Stand up and bend over."

"Janice, please?" I whimpered as I got into position.

She walked behind me and took a couple of moments to caress my buns through my nylon panties. Then, suddenly, she pulled them down.

"This time, we're spanking your bare bottom," she said.

"No!" I cried.

The panties slipped down my legs and puddle around my ankles.

Ignoring my pleas, Janice gave me my spanking, eleven of them, just like the night before.

And my god but it hurt! You wouldn't think that a thin pair of panties would make any difference, but it did.

And afterwards Janice made me stand there, my ass bright red and tears spilling down my cheeks.

"Will you submit to my demands?" she asked.

"No...." I said, sniffling.

Janice smiled. "Very well! You refused yesterday and you refused today, so that's a minimum of four more spankings you will have to endure!"

"No," I protested. "Please!"

Janice held my head in her hands and gently kissed my cheek. "Every day you refuse means two more days of spankings added," she whispered into my ear, causing the hair on my back to rise up.

"I don't care," I said, with false bravado. "I can take the spankings."

"I thought you might," Janice said with an evil grin. "That's why I have prepared more 'encouragement' for tomorrow."

As I knelt down between her legs to lick Janice to orgasm (three times!), I wondered what my 'additional encouragement' might be.

***

I found out the very next morning.

"Here's your bra for today," Janice said, sweetly, holding it up. "Welcome to your new 'encouragement'."

I looked at the bra, shocked. The cups were lined with thumb tacks, all pointing *in*, towards my chest.

"Come on," Janice said, "be a good girl and put this on."

"No..." I gasped. As I looked closer, sewn into the center of each cup -- positioned directly over my nipples -- were bristle brushes, each about the size of a silver dollar.

"Oh, you like it?" Janice said, sweetly. "I was so lucky to find a seamstress who could make it on such short notice. Now come on," she held the bra out by the straps, open, thumb tacks pointing towards me, "slip this on. Let's strap on your encouragement."

I took a step towards her, but hesitated. "Please, no..."

"Remember your oath, now come here."

I held up my hands, "please..." I pleaded one last time.

Janice slipped the satin straps over my arms and up my shoulders. The fabric of the bra was satin/polyester blend, and just a tiny bit stretchy. The construction of the bra was like a sports bra, with wide straps, and a curiously high neckline, front and back.

Janice turned me around, pulled the bra tight around my chest, and then fastened the hooks, one by one.

"Here, we'll set the hooks to the outer-most row of eyes," she said.

"You mean, this is the loosest?" I asked. As Janice pulled the bra snug around my body, I felt the points of the thumbtacks in the cups press gently against my breasts, and the brush bristles rested lightly over my sensitive nipples.

"Yes, this is the loosest. If you still need more encouragement tomorrow, we'll make it tighter. It has 5 settings."

"Five!" I gasped out loud. Even at level 1, the tack points were pressing into my skin. It was a light touch and I knew that it would never break the skin, but still it was already uncomfortable.

I felt Janice do something with the bra in back, and after a second I heard a soft *snick*.

"What was that?" I asked, worried.

"This bra is so great," Janice enthused, "it's got a locking feature. Isn't that cool? I just secured it with a little padlock. Now, the only way you can take it off is to cut it off. And of course, if you did that, I would know, wouldn't I? And you just know that if I ever found the bra to be damaged, your punishment that would be 100 times worse. And don't think I wouldn't!"

I shuddered at the thought.

Janice turned me around, "and now here you all, all locked in to your special encouragement. And look! With this high neckline you can't even slip the straps over your shoulders. Isn't that clever? Now, give me a kiss."

Janice pulled me in close and gave me a deep kiss. It was clear that she had become excited by my discomfort.

And then, to make matters worse, Janice pulled me into a hug.

"Mmmh!" I gasped, feeling her breasts press against my bra, pressing the points harder against my skin.

"Do you like that?" Janice whispered into my ear. "Want more?"

I thought briefly of people who slept on a bed of nails, and how the nails wouldn't break the skin because there were too many of them.

"Just think," Janice continued, "tomorrow it gets tighter. Won't that be wonderful? All those little tack points pressing into your delicate skin. Mmmmm."

"And the next day," Janice increased the pressure of her hug, "tighter still. Is it too much to bear yet? And then," she hugged me even more, "even tighter. And now just a bit more," Janice pulled me into a bear hug, mashing her breasts against my chest pressing the points painfully onto my skin.

"Please!" I cried out, struggling.

Finally, Janice released me.

I held my breasts gently and hunched over. "How long do I have to wear this torture device?" I asked.

Janice smiled. "Why sweetie. Until you agree to my demands. This is your encouragement, remember?"

Janice chuckled at me as I tried to work a finger into the bra to massage my hurt skin -- but I couldn't! The neckline was too tight.

I worked my shoulders a bit to try and relieve the pressure from an irritating bristle that was poking directly into my left nipple. "Ohhhh..." I moaned, in frustration. Now both nipples were being poked!

"Probably don't want to move your shoulders much, if you can help it," Janice counseled. "I imagine that too much of that could cause things to get a bit raw on your chest. I hope you don't have too much physical lifting to do in your job today."

***

"I hope you don't mind, your job is going to involve a lot of physical lifting today," Rachael said, as I reported to her for today's assignments.

I groaned. "What do you have in mind?"

"Follow me," Janice walked over to the closet at the end of the hall. Inside the closet were shelves, and on the shelves were files -- stacked from floor all the way until they were touching the ceiling, about 9 feet (3m) high.

"Oh my god," I groaned. Visions of me reaching up to get the files, and then opening the tall filing cabinets and filing them -- all of the arm motions would mean the bristles brushing gently over my nipples would do so, uninterrupted, all day long.

"Exactly," Janice agreed, "it's a mess. These are last year's proposals. We don't have any room for them here, but we have a room of empty filing cabinets in the basement. Unfortunately, the elevator doesn't go down that far, so you'll need to take the stairs. Here's the key for the door. Unfortunately it's kind of heavy and has a tendency to swing shut on its own, so you may need to hold it open, and once it's closed it tends to stick..."

***

By the end of the day my nipples hurt, so much had they been scraped during the day. Desperate to cool them off, I sat in my office with a dull cafeteria knife. I slipped it into the bra cups and gently placed the cool blade over my nipple... Ohhh, that felt good.

After a few minutes, I took the knife out and dunked it into a glass of ice water to cool it off. Then I placed it into the other cup and soothed the other nipple.

I closed my eyes and took a moment to relax.

But why was I hard?

All day long, my nipples tortured, tacks poking at my breasts -- and I had had a huge hard-on all the time. Why?

I had never thought I was much of a masochist, but maybe? Or was it just that I was following the orders of my wife? Being submissive...

"Paul?" Rachael walked into the office.

"Ack!" I hurriedly removed the knife, which clattered to the floor and then pulled my shirt closed. "I'm sorry," I blurted out.

"No, no..." Rachael said, soothingly.

Rachael shut the door behind her and sat down in my guest chair.

"Stand up and come here," she said.

"I'm sorry... ?"

"Stand up," she repeated, more slowly this time, "and come here."

I did as instructed, still clutching my shirt closed.

"Hands down by your sides."

Hesitantly, I lowered my arms. I blushed beet red as the shirt gaped open, showing the bra underneath.

"My goodness," Rachael said, "look at what we have here..."

Rachael undid the remaining buttons on my dress shirt and opened it up to reveal the white satin bra underneath. Gently she pushed the shirt down my arms until it hung around my waist.

"I never would have believed it," she mumbled.

"What's that?" I asked, worried.

"Your wife. She called and told me all about your punishment."

I stepped back and covered my chest, "No!"

Rachael smiled, "Yes, she did. And do I have this right? You disobeyed her and that's why you are being punished?"

"Something like that..." I muttered.

Rachael reached out and gently squeezed the bra cups, pressing the tacks into my breasts. "Does this hurt?" she asked.

"Not really," I said, "just little points."

"Fascinating," Rachael allowed my to pull my shirt back on and button it closed. "Well, I just came in to say that you did a good job today. I inspected the files in the basement and everything looks in order."

"Thank you," I said, grateful for the praise.

Rachael stood up, "Now, give me a hug?" she asked, wickedly.

"Ummm..."

Without waiting for my assent, Rachael pulled me into a big warm hug, pressing her body firmly against mine.

"Unh," I grunted, in pain.

"Thank you," Rachael said. "You are more special than I realized, Paul."

"Uh.... Thanks."

"Oh, and I'm afraid I have another closet for you to clean out tomorrow. So get here nice and early!"

***

That evening I was allowed to take off the bra to sleep. Of course, this came after my time on the 'beck and call' pillow, and after my evening spanking, and after I made Janice come.

But then, after all that, we both sat down on the bed and Janice unlocked the bra and removed it.

"Poor sweetie," she murmured. Although the skin had not been broken, still my chest was covered with little red dots. Janice massaged my breasts and soon the dots faded.

"Unh," I said, enjoying her attentions on my breasts and nipples.

"What have we here?" Janice looked down at my penis. It had been hard all day long, even with the torturous bra, or perhaps because of it, and now it was actually leaking pre-cum, causing a wet mark on the front of my panties.

With one hand still massaging a breast, Janice reached down and with a light grasping motion began to stroke my penis.

"Oh... my gosh..." I moaned, beginning to tense up. A whole evening of stimulation and domination was beginning to overwhelm me.

"See?" Janice said, talking into my ear and kissing my neck as she continued to stroke my breasts and penis, "I know what my girl wants. I know what she craves. I just want you to give in to me completely. Is that too much to ask?"

"Unh!" I began to involuntarily pump my hips forward. "So close..."

But just then, just when I was at the edge, Janice stopped.

"Hey!" I cried out.

"Tutt, tutt," she said, "What kind of encouragement would it be if I just let you come?"

"But..." I reached down and started stroking my own cock.

"No! None of that!" Janice quickly grasped my wrists and held them out from my body.

"Please! I have to come!" I said, desperate.

"Well, I guess I can't tie you up all night," she said. "Here, I tell you what we'll do."

Janice pulled me up off the bed and then frog-marched me up to the wall. Once I was facing the wall, she pressed me face-forward into it.

"There you go," Janice continued to hold me firmly by the wrists.

"What?"

"Go ahead, hump the wall if you have to come."

"Are you kidding?"

"Do you need to come or don't you? Should I get an ice pack? Should I tie you up all night?"

"No no!" I was at my wits end. A days worth of torment had made my sexual ache nearly unbearable. I didn't think I could stand it another moment. Tentatively, I pushed my hips forward and rubbed against the wall.

"That's my slutty bitch. Hump that wall. You know you need it."

It was true, I did need it. I humped harder. The wall was hard and I rolled my hard cock over it.

Janice shifted her grip so that she could hold both of my wrists together with one hand. With her free hand she grasped my hair and pressed my face into the wall.

"That's it, bitch! Make love to the wall! Kiss the wall!"

I did as instructed. I kissed the wall, I humped the wall, I mashed my penis against it.

"Uhnnn!" I groaned.

"Yeah!" Janice encouraged, pressing me harder.

"Uhnnnn!" one more good thrust and I came, spasmodically jerking my hips back and forth, rolling my penis back and forth over the flat surface.

Janice continued pressing me against the wall until I settled down, my cum and saliva smeared all over the wallboard.

"And this will be your own special 'cum-spot' until you submit to my demands. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"Good. Now come to bed! I'm so horny! I need to cum again!"

Chapter 16: The Next Level

Four more days is all it took. On Saturday evening I knelt before Janice in just my bra, panties, and dog collar and said the dreaded words.

"I submit to your demands," I said.

"Really?" Janice fairly squealed with delight. "You agree to submit to *all* of my demands?"

"Yes," I hung my head, "just, please, don't ever make me wear this damn bra ever again." All that day, the bra was at its tightest setting. The points of the tacks dug cruelly into my breasts. Not enough to pierce the skin, but enough to be constantly painful.

And of course it was Saturday, which meant doing laundry, dusting, vacuuming, washing toilets, scrubbing the bathroom, and ironing. Everything possible, which would cause the bra to shift back and forth over my tortured chest.

"You are not in a position to make demands," Janice said. "You will wear the bra if I ever decide you need to." She held my head in her hands. "But if you really are a nice, obedient husband, I see no reason why we should ever have to resort to using it again."

Janice turned me around, unlocked the bra, and removed it. She turned me around and pulled me into a wonderfully warm hug.

"I'm so sorry I've been such a bitch," she whispered in my ear. "I don't know what's gotten into me." Her hands stroked up and down my body, one hand going into my panties and stroking my buns. "It's like I can't control myself, I just want to see you become more feminine. Can you forgive me?"

"Of course," I said, my penis gradually becoming hard in my panties.

"Good," she said. "Now let's get started!"

***

Since it was Saturday night, there wasn't much we could do. But Janice did teach me how to shave my legs and underarms. It took a little time, but soon my legs and underarms were hair-free.

"Well, not great," Janice said after I had stepped out of the shower and dried off. "But after a few days it should be perfect."

"A few days?"

"Right. I am expecting you to shave every morning during your shower, understand?"

"I understand," I said.

"Repeat after me, I, Paul Arthur Johnson, do solemnly swear to shave my legs and armpits, every day, for the rest of my life."

"I, Paul Arthur Johnson do solemnly swear to shave my legs and armpits, every day, for the rest of my life."

"Every day, for the rest of your life. Isn't that nice?"

"I suppose."

"Oh hush. I just know you'll come to love your new, silky smooth legs and sexy underarms."

***

That evening I was spanked. Because I had refused her demands for the previous 7 days, I would be spanked for the next 14 days.

After my spanking, as I stood in just panties and a bra, Janice pulled out a large cardboard box from her closet.

"I bought this for you as a present for when you finally gave in."

I placed the box on the bed and lifted the cover. At first, I couldn't even tell what it was -- there was so much fabric! As I lifted it out of the box, yards and yards of lace and nylon spilled out of the box and on to the floor.

"Oh my goodness!" I gasped, amazed. Eventually I found the neckline and held it out for inspection.

It was a gorgeous cream nylon and lace nightgown. There were two layers. The inner layer was satiny nylon and came up to just cover my chest, with long sleeves and a long skirt, which was enormously wide and flowing at the hem. The second layer was made up delicate lace and went as far up as my neck and chin, and then covered the entire gown all the way to the floor.

I looked at Janice, amazed. "But Janice... I can't wear this! It's too... too beautiful!"

"Tutt, tutt," she said, brushing away my concerns, "my girl has suffered a lot these last few days, and I want to treat you to something special. But I don't want to get it soiled, so let's put this on first, okay?"

Janice held up a condom.

"Oh... Okay," I agreed.

Janice pulled my hard penis out from within the confining panties. "All set to go, aren't we?" she giggled, placing the condom over the head of my hard member and then rolling it down the shaft. After a couple of blindingly delicious strokes, Janice tucked me back into my panties, nice and safe.

"Now, since this is something of a vintage gown, I think we need something special underneath as well," Janice pulled out a pair of cream-colored bloomers from the box. "Would this be okay?"

"Yes!" I gasped, delighted. They were silky long-legged bloomers, with delicate ribbons and lace stitched into the hems. Janice held them out to me and I carefully stepped into them. My skin tingled as she slid them up my legs. Once in place, she tightened a ribbon around my waist and then around the hem of each leg, gathering the fabric snugly around my body. The ribbons were then tied off with a big floppy bows. The lace tickled my thighs.

"Mmmmm," I sighed with pleasure as Janice stroked my penis through the two layers of silk and nylon. Then she pulled me into a warm hug and gave me a deep kiss on the lips.

"Honey?" she asked, pulling apart slightly.

"Yes?" I said, breathless and distracted as Janice began to gently tweak my nipples through my nylon bra.

"I want to ask you a favor, well, actually multiple favors. Just for tonight. If you don't want to, it's okay. But if you do, it would be wonderful."

"Sure!" I said, without thinking. I was feeling warm, loved, and incredibly turned on. "What would you like?"

Janice returned to gently stroking my penis. "You said 'sure'. Do you really mean that? Do you trust me?"

I hugged her and lightly kissed her on the neck. "Of course I trust you. What would you like me to do?"

"Well, first..." Janice reached over and pulled out a medium-sized box from her nightstand, "I would like you to use these."

Janice opened the box and revealed two silicon breast forms. She pulled one out and held it up to me. I guessed it would transform me to an ample C cup.

"Oh, gosh," I mumbled. I ran my fingers over the breast form and the perky, hard-rubber nipple.

Suddenly this was more than just dressing up in women's clothing. This was deeper than simple role playing. I was crossing yet another line. It was obvious where this would go. No longer was I merely a submissive male dressed up in women's clothing, answering to my wife's demands.

Janice now wanted me to become a woman.

From transvestite to transgender.

But did I want that? I thought back to my original desires - just to wear panties and bras more often. And yes, to be married to someone who was more dominant and controlling about how I dressed up. But then, Janice wanted for me to have earrings, and now I was waxing my chest and shaving my legs, and soon I would get new hair, laser hair removal, and a tattoo...

But through all that I was still male. Right?

"A man with breasts?" I asked Janice, tremulously.

"No," she purred, her eyes positively glowing with excitement. "A *woman* with breasts. My woman. My submissive girl. My wife."

I hesitated, unsure, yet again, about where this was headed.

"It's only for tonight," Janice said, "and besides, you promised!"

I winced, thinking how my promises kept getting me into trouble. But then, they were only breast forms, right? Nothing permanent.

"Okay," I said finally.

"Yay!" Janice said, excited. Carefully hefting the breast form, she pulled my left bra cup away from my body and gently slipped it in. After doing the same with the right breast, she adjusted them. The straps tugged at my shoulders, supporting this new, unaccustomed weight for the first time. They felt cool to the touch, but quickly warmed to my body temperature.

Janice stepped back and took a look at me.

"Oh," she said simply.

"Janice?"

She was staring at my breasts. "Hello... Earth to Janice?" I waved my hand in front of her face.

Janice snapped out of it. "I'm sorry! It's just..." she shook her head to clear her mind.

Just then I noticed how strong was the smell of her sex. Janice must be intensely turned on, I realized.

"Now for the main event," Janice gathered up the nightgown and held it open for me. I threaded my arms and head through the fabric cloud and stood still as Janice worked the bodice over my new lumps and pulled it down to the floor, straightening the skirts around my legs.

"Oh my gosh," Janice said. "You look beautiful! Here, you have to come and see." Janice dragged me by the arm to the full-length mirror.

I stood next to her, looking at my reflection in the mirror. She was right. From the neck down I looked amazing. Even my face, with the earrings and the longer hair (Janice had brushed it out a bit) didn't look too bad.

I reached up and caressed my breasts, watching my reflection do the same. I realized that my breaths were coming out in short gasps.

"Who's this incredibly sexy woman I see?" Janice hugged me from behind, reaching up to squeeze and fondle my breasts. "Oh..." she moaned, clearly as excited by my new figure and appearance as I was, if not more so.

After a couple of minutes, Janice fetched the 'beck and call' pillow and placed it in front of me.

"Kneel and place your arms behind your back," she said. I did as instructed.

Janice fetched something from her nightstand. "This is just to keep your hands out of the way, Okay?"

"Okay..." I said.

I felt metal, and then a ratchety sound, and realized with a panic that my arms had been handcuffed behind me.

"But, Janice! You don't need to..."

"Shhh!" She silenced me with a finger on my lips. "This is just to keep you out of trouble while I'm getting changed. I'll let you free in just a bit."

Janice bent down to stroke my breasts and penis (now trapped under four layers of fabric and a condom) and went to her walk-in closet, leaving me, kneeling, on the 'beck and call pillow', staring at my reflection in the mirror.

***

I knelt on the pillow, back straight, breasts out, wrists handcuffed behind my back, looking at my reflection while Janice changed.

I turned left and right, admiring myself from different angles. I was surprised at how much the breast forms helped my figure. From the neck down I looked pretty good. Of course, the loose, flowing gown helped.

And from the neck up wasn't completely awful. Of course there was some beard stubble, shaggy eyebrows, sideburns... I still looked like a man. But my hair had become long and shaggy over the last year, and it hung around my chin, and that helped. It was not really an embarrassing picture.

And as I looked in the mirror, something troubling happened.

I began to look normal.

Somehow the nightgown, the breasts, the hair, the earrings... they all merged into something that worked together. I recognized myself.

"Do you like what you see?" Janice asked, creeping up beside me.

I turned with a start and looked at her.

"Oh my god!" I gasped.

Janice was dressed in a tuxedo. Not super formal with tails, but just an elegant, black, James-Bond-Style jacket and pants with satin trim, bow tie, and white shirt (no ruffles).

"You look... you look... amazing."

"Not bad, actually," she said, delighted, looking at herself in the mirror and turning this way and that. "Could be worse, anyway."

You know how some women look even hotter and sexier when wearing men's clothing? This was Janice, even with no makeup and her short hair in its normal bob.

Janice left for a moment and returned with a bottle and glasses. She turned on some music - a collection of slow, romantic songs - and a few moments later I heard a *pop*! and the glug-glug of champagne.

"Let's get these off of you," Janice knelt behind me and unlocked the handcuffs.

"A toast to my new housewife!" Janice said.

"A toast to my new house-husband!" I said. We toasted.

Janice stepped closer and gave me a peck on the cheek. "Could I interest you in a dance?"

I looked into her eyes. "Yes, please," I said. We put our glasses down and moved to the center of the room...

... and danced. Slow, and romantic. Fabric cascading down my body, wife dressed in a tuxedo, bloomers and ribbons tickling my thighs, a slight buzz from the champagne, and the new feeling of breasts.

I closed my eyes and just enjoyed the moment.

***

After a song or two I began to notice something... Something down below.

Janice pulled me in closer, holding me tight against her body, her hands on my buns, pushing our hips together.

We danced for another second, and then I realized.

Janice chuckled, seeing my eyes go wide. "I was wondering when you'd notice," she said.

Janice had a bulge in her pants!

She put her lips next to my ear and whispered, "that's right, sweetie. I have a special 'package' just for you." Her hot breath caused me to shiver. Our two bulges dueled each other in the close space between our bodies.

"Oh, I'm getting so horny," she said, licking my ear. "Why don't you be a good girl..." she took my hand by the wrist and placed my palm on her bulge, "and give this poor boy a little lovin'?"

"Oh," I stammered, feeling her hard penis in my hand, "sure... um..."

"Call me 'sir'."

"Yes, sir," I said, running my hand gently up and down her hard shaft.

What was it?? I wondered. It sure felt real - and big. Bigger than mine.

"Mmmmmm," Janice moaned. "That's nice, but harder, please."

"Yes, sir," and so I stroked harder. Our romantic dance had taken a decidedly kinky turn.

"Yessssss," she hissed. "Now, play with my balls, please."

I gasped. Balls?? My hand reached lower, between her legs, and found them - two large pendulous balls between her legs. I squeezed them through her trousers.

"Harder!" she commanded.

I squeezed and kneaded them, much harder than a man would normally want.

"That's great, but I need more," she said, breaking our embrace. Janice fetched the 'beck and call' pillow and placed it in front of her. "Kneel!" she commanded.

I knelt down in front of her, my eyes level with her crotch. The bulge in the front of her tuxedo pants was now graphically apparent.

"Now kiss it and praise it," Janice said, slyly.

"Ummm..." I hesitated.

"Are you confused? Is something wrong?"

"No, it's just..."

"Just what?"

I couldn't put my fears into words. Where was Janice going with this?

"It's OK, Paul. We're just playing, right?"

Relief washed over me. Right, we were just playing!

"Okay."

"Good," Janice thrust her hips forward, lewdly. "Now kiss it and praise it!"

I leant forward and placed a gentle kiss on her bulge.

"My, what a nice hard penis you have, sir," I said. As I said it, I felt my face flush - I was blushing!

"Oh, you can do better than that! Be more slutty."

I took a deep breath, and kissed the bulge again. "Ohhhh," I said with more feeling this time, "what a hard manly COCK you have, sir."

"Yes?" Janice prompted me to continue.

What more could I say? I racked my brains for more praise to heap on her bulge. "What a nice, hard manly, throbbing, cock. And it's so big! So big and hard and manly and thrusting and gorgeous and beautiful and firm...." I trailed off, embarrassed.

"Good girl," Janice said, soothingly as she stroked my hair. "Now, open my pants."

I pulled down her zipper and unfastened the waistband.

Oh my god. She was wearing men's briefs. Her cock -- I could now smell that it was a rubber dildo -- looked more obscene than ever, it's shape, circumcised head, and balls clearly outlined by the tight briefs.

"Come on!" she aid, pulling my head gently towards her crotch. "More kissing! More praise!"

I kissed up and down the length of the shaft, my nose and lips rubbing over the briefs. In addition to the rubber smell of the dildo, the smell of Janice's sex was absolutely pungent. She was so turned on!

"Mmmmm," I said. "It is so strong and manly, sir. So big and firm. So thick and long. I bet all of the girls just melt when they get sight of this hunk of manhood. I know I do! Just looking at it makes my heart flutter and my sex tingle. All I want to do is worship it and love it and kiss it..."

"Oh yes!" Janice said, squeezing her legs together and closing her eyes tightly. Was she orgasming? "I love this," she said, "beg some more!"

"Please, please!" I said, "Please, sir, let me see it. I want to worship it and love it, the way it deserves to be worshipped and loved. Please! It is so hard and firm, I can't stand it! I want to get intimate with it!"

"I will grand you your request," Janice said. "But look, don't touch! Okay?"

"Okay..." I said. Where was she going with this?

Janice pushed her briefs down and the dildo popped out and bobbed in front of me.

It was a beautiful specimen, certainly. About eight inches (20cm) long, flesh colored, and with two large balls hanging below. It was very realistic. I could see now that it was attached to a harness, which was strapped securely around Janice's waist like a jock strap.

"Don't you just love it?" Janice asked.

"Ummmm...."

"The correct answer is 'yes, sir'," she prompted.

"Yes, sir," I said, dutifully.

"Now be a good little housewife slut and just hold still..."

Janice gently placed the tip of the penis against my face. It was soft, softer than most rubber dildos, but still firm underneath. The surface felt just like real skin, in a strange, almost creepy way.

I closed my eyes as Janice rubbed the tip of the penis over my face, tracing the tip over my nose, cheeks, and lips. She prodded the tip gently over my nostrils and then into my mouth.

I felt like such a slut, kneeling there before her, holding still as she rubbed her cock all over my face.

"Beg to suck it," she whispered.

"No..." I moaned. I couldn't do that!

"Beg!" she said, tracing the tip over my lips.

"Please...." I said, beseechingly

"Yes?"

I gulped. What was I going to do?

"Come on... you know you want to..."

"Please..." I said again, looking up at her.

Janice looked into my face with a firm expression and prodded my lips again with her firm cock.

"Beg."

"Please," I felt my will slipping, "please... may I suck your penis?"

"Maybe. If you're a good slut. Beg some more."

"Please, sir, please. I want to suck your penis."

"My what?"

I gulped. "Your hard cock, sir. Please, I want to suck your hard cock."

"Is that the best you can do?"

"Your hard shaft. I want to feel your hard shaft in my mouth. I want to run my wet lips all over it. I want to feel it at the back of my throat, I want it plunging in and out of my mouth, sir. I want to make love to it with my lips and tongue..."

"Now that's what I want to hear from my slut-wife."

**Slap** Janice slapped my face with her dildo!

"Beg some more!"

**Slap!!**

"Please, sir, let me lick and suck your cock! (**slap**) Let me suck it down deep into my throat! Let me make love to it with my lips! (**slap**) Please I must have it in my mouth! Please let me lick it all over!" (**slap**)

"Good!" She said, excitedly. "Now, hands behind your back, open your mouth, and close your eyes."

I did as instructed, mouth open, waiting for it.

But Janice went slow, first rubbing the tip all around my lips before slowly, slowly, slipping it into my mouth and placing it on my tongue.

"You have a penis in your mouth. What if it were real?" she said, teasingly.

My eyes shot open in fear as I looked up at Janice's smiling face.

She laughed. "We're just playing, sweetheart. Just imagine that it's real. Okay?"

I nodded my head.

"Now, just think. What if this were a real penis? Feel the head of it in your mouth. Feel its silky texture. Run your tongue and lips over the circumcised head, feeling the ridge, which makes up the cock head. Isn't that just incredibly sexy? Doesn't it just feel alive in your mouth?"

The dildo she had did feel incredibly real - it was made of a super-soft and velvety skin-like rubber. If it weren't for the taste of rubber, I could almost imagine that it was a real penis.

A real penis. A real cock. A man's dick in my mouth.

I'm sucking a cock. I'm a cocksucker.

"Now feel that slit at the very tip? That's where the urine comes out. Maybe there's a little urine there right now? That urine is now inside your mouth. Isn't that sexy?"

I ran my tongue over the tip of the dick, feeling the slit and imagining the salty taste of urine there.

"Keep sucking and that's where sperm will come out. That's right, seamen... spunk. Sticky fluid, jetting out and into your mouth, all over your tongue. Wouldn't you like that?"

I moaned in agreement. I was lost in her fantasy now.

"Now, let's see how deep we can go." Janice grabbed my head and slowly jacked her hips forward, pushing the cock deep into my mouth. I sucked it down as far as it would go. As soon as I started to gag a bit, Janice pulled back, almost all the way out, and then started to slowly thrust back in.

"Oh my god..." she said, in a husky voice. "You can't imagine how sexy that looks..."

I looked up and saw Janice looking straight down at me, watching intently as the large rubber rod was slowly pistoned back and forth past my lips and down my throat.

"Oh yes! Please! Use your fist at the base... uh... and be more....unh... forceful."

I grabbed the base of the strap-on and began sucking in earnest, moving back and forth with force and pressing the cock hard against Janice's body, thinking it would help to stimulate her clitoris.

It worked.

"YESSSSSSSSS!" Janice hissed, her hips spasmodically jerking back and forth. Her hands had a death grip on my head, forcing the cock deep into my mouth.

I just hung on and tried not to gag.

But I couldn't get over the feeling that she was raping my mouth.

***

After her orgasm, Janice held on to me for a while, her legs unsteady, the cock lodged in my mouth.

"Your turn!" she said, easing her cock out of my mouth and then lifting me up to my feet. She then led me over to my 'cum spot' and turned me to face the wall.

"Janice, please..." I whined. "I was hoping..."

"Hoping what?"

"You know... that we could do this together... in bed."

"Are you hard?" Janice asked, simply.

I nodded.

"Do you want to come?"

"Yes."

Janice pushed me gently forward. Placing a hand on my buns, she pushed my penis to the wall.

"Then, I suggest you get humping. Oh, wait! Stay right there!"

I heard Janice run to her desk. A drawer opened, a page ripped.

"Here you go!" Janice said, with delight. "Something to keep you interested." She tacked up a page from a magazine onto the wall directly in front of my face.

It was a picture of a naked man!

"What... What's this?"

"Well, you're a real cocksucker now, so I thought you might like to actually look at a cock while you're coming. Look at it! Tell me what you see!"

Janice pressed into me from behind, forcing me closer to the photograph and forcing my penis to hump the wall.

"Tell me," she whispered into my ear.

"I see..." I faltered, "I see.... a man."

"Is he good looking?" Janice reached around my body and began to squeeze my false breasts.

"Yes. He's good looking with short hair, solid muscles, a narrow waist." I began to masturbate against the wall.

"What about his lips? What about his hands?"

"His lips look soft and... uh... inviting. His hands look elegant, but strong," I said, panting a bit.

"Good. Now, tell me about his cock and balls."

"His cock looks big and hard. It's a good size, but not disgustingly large. It's well shaped, and circumcised with well-defined ridges and veins. It looks firm and forceful, like it could easily force it's way into my mouth or my pussy, if I had one."

"or your anus?" she asked, wickedly.

I caught my breath for a second. "Or my anus..." I whispered.

"And the balls?"

"The balls look soft, and tight, and loaded with ... uhn," I grunted, pressing myself hard against the wall, "sperm... ready to spurt... ready to fill... me... up..."

"Now, give that nice hard cock on the wall a kiss!" Janice commanded.

And just as I did, I came.

***

Afterwards, we went to bed and Janice had me bring her to orgasm two more times with my mouth. Once while sucking the strap-on, and a second time after she had removed it.

"As much as I get off on watching you suck cock," Janice sighed as she leaned back and relaxed from her second orgasm, "there's nothing that beats a nice active tongue on my pussy."

I moaned in appreciation, doing my best to "clean her up": to suck and swallow all of her secretions and leave her vagina as clean as possible. It had become pretty wet and rank down there.

After cleaning her up, I moved back up the bed to fall asleep.

"Wait," Janice said, a bit sleepily. "I have one more 'favor' to ask of you, tonight."

"What's that?"

"Put these over your head," Janice handed me the male underwear that she had been wearing.

I did as she requested, although I'm sure I looked ridiculous. The briefs fit snugly over my head.

"Now, since you enjoyed my penis so much," Janice detached the dildo from the strap-on harness, which held it, and tossed the harness to the floor.

"I thought you might like to have it close to you all night long!" Janice pulled open the hem of the briefs, and slipped the dildo inside, so that the balls were against my lips and the shaft was running over my face.

"Sweet dreams!" she said, with a soft giggle as she turned over and went to sleep.

Chapter 17: Shopping

The next day was Sunday, and, unfortunately, the Mall was open.

I had spent the night trying my best to sleep with a rubber penis pressed against my face, eventually falling asleep around 2 am.

In the morning I woke up with a start. The balls were in my mouth. Had I been sucking on them in my sleep?

Yikes.

Anyway, that morning, after putting on a pair of panties and a bra - surprisingly simple considering what I had worn the night before - I dressed in normal clothes and we went out.

Janice was going to make me into her housewife.

***

Stop #1: Laser Hair Removal

"This so much quicker than electrolysis!" Janice enthused. It took nearly two hours, but they did my entire face. Each shot was like a rubber band being snapped against my face. Ow! My face was a bright pink after the treatment.

"Thank you so much for coming in on a Sunday," Janice said, handing the lady a check.

I just stood there, holding an ice pack to my face.

Janice nudged me.

"Uh, yes!" I said. "Thank you so much! I can't tell you how much I appreciate it." Really, I thought to myself, I can't tell you.

Janice signed me up for follow up treatments.

It was weird how smooth my face felt. I couldn't stop touching it and marveling. And once the redness faded, it was strange to see my skin. The first time I've ever seen my face without the gray shadow of beard stubble. It looked so smooth...

... and feminine.

***

Stop #2: Hair Salon

"Just a trim - I want it to grow long. But do add some blond highlights," Janice instructed.

I resolved not to argue.

After the hair cut, they pierced my other ear, and so I was back to wearing gold studs for a while - but this time in both ears.

And then they waxed and plucked my eyebrows.

When they turned the chair around so I could see my new cut in the mirror, I couldn't believe it.

Janice laughed at my shocked expression. "Starting to get a bit more convincing, don't you think?"

***

Stop #3: The Makeup Counter

"My husband here needs a full makeup kit. Foundation, mascara, blush, eyeliner, eye shadow, lipstick, the works! Don't you, honey?"

I looked into the eyes of the saleslady at the Clinique counter, flush with embarrassment.

I hung my head. "Yes, I guess I do."

Janice poked me. "Speak up, sweetie."

"Ahem," I cleared my throat, "Yes, I do. I've never done this before. How does it work?" I raised my head to look at the saleslady, who looked at me with a smirk.

After a quick lesson on skin care and cleaning, the lady at the makeup counter took pains to match my skin color to their charts and began to recommend colors and shades.

"Could you teach him how to apply everything?" Janice asked, with a wicked smile.

I nearly died.

But she did just that, teaching me how to use foundation, highlight my eyes with eyeliner and several shades of shadow, how to apply blush to add some glow, and how to do my lips (with lip liner and then lipstick).

By the time I was done, all of the ladies in the makeup department were looking at me with curiosity and amusement. Who was this man and his wife, and why was *he* letting *her* make *him* get a makeover?

After I was fully made up, I looked in the mirror and suddenly realized that I could no longer recognize myself. I had large, doe-like eyes, pouty lips, smooth skin, and a gentle blush. And with my long hair (light brown with blond highlights) cascading around my face...

"Thank you," I said, sincerely. "You are a magician." The sales lady accepted the compliment gracefully. "Now, could I have some wipes so I can take it all off?"

"Oh, that won't be necessary," Janice interrupted cheerfully. "He'll just wear it."

"What??" I gasped, staring, open mouthed, at Janice. "What if someone sees me? What if I run into someone from work? I can't go around looking like this!!"

And just then, my worst fear was realized.

"Paul, Janice?" Said a voice from behind us. I turned around.

"Rachael?" I blurted out, before I could stop myself.

"Paul!" she said, amazed and delighted. "Why, aren't you looking so... ah... elegant!"

"Well, Janice and I... um..." both of the women looked at me with amusement, watching me squirm. "We were just experimenting," I finished off, lamely.

"Well, experiment successful!" Janice said, with enthusiasm. "Why, if Janice hadn't been here, I might not have recognized you at all. And you got your hair done! It looks fantastic! Oh my gosh, and now *both* of your ears are pierced. And look, your eyebrows have been plucked."

"Doesn't he look so yummy!" Janice enthused.

"He does!" Rachael returned. "Janice, you simply must tell me how you've, um... 'managed' your husband so well! I must learn your secrets. You know I've just been through an ugly divorce?"

"No I didn't, I'm so sorry," Janice commiserated.

"Thanks. But ever since then I thought how nice it would be to have someone who was completely devoted to me... the way that Paul seems completely devoted to you."

"Well thanks," Janice accepted the compliment. "We have to do lunch. Wednesday?"

"Sounds good! Paul, would you note that for my calendar?"

"Sure, Rachael."

"Well, I have to run!" Rachael said, turning to leave.

"Rachael!" I called out.

"Yes?"

"Ummm... don't worry. Ah... I'll take all of this off and I'll look normal on Monday."

"Oh, honey! I'm not worried at all. You look wonderful. Of course, no one would wear quite so much makeup to work, but if you'd like to wear a little, well, that would be fine by me." Rachael gave me a quick hug and a kiss before leaving.

"Well, how about that," Janice whispered into my ear as we watched Rachael walk out of the store. "You can wear makeup to work. Isn't that fantastic!"

***

Stop #4: The Women's clothing department

"It fits. Are we finally done now?"

"No. You stay put."

Janice had me turn around to carefully inspect the blouse from all angles.

Almost done. I had already tried on several dresses and skirts. I was in front of the mirror, in the main area of the women's clothing department. I wanted to hurry, since everyone could see me, and I was afraid of running into someone else from work that I knew.

It was a nice blouse, cream, with long sleeves, lace trim around the neckline and a delicate silk ribbon bow in front. Ties in back cinched it so it fit snugly around my waist.

(which made me realize: have I been losing weight? Since cooking at home, I know I've been eating better, but also it seems that I've been eating less as I tend to Janice's needs. Certainly my waist has never been so small.)

But then suddenly I noticed: Where was Janice??

She had disappeared. I fretted for a second. Was she picking out more clothes for me to wear? She told me to 'stay put'. Should I go back and change?

Oh, if only she hadn't made me wear the bra and the breast forms! I should have refused. But Janice had wanted to make sure that the bust fit properly. Damn it!

So there I was, stuck in the middle of the women's clothing department, in a lady's blouse, with conspicuous breasts, agonizing about what to do.

"Okay, we're done. Let's go!" Janice appeared out of nowhere.

She gently directed me towards the cashier, her arms full with our new purchases.

"But, but!" I stammered. "I have to change! I can't go out into the mall dressed like this!"

"You can't change," Janice said simply.

"What? Why not?"

"Because I just cut up your shirt back in the dressing room. It's now just a pile of rags."

I looked at her, shocked. "You didn't!"

"And besides, it's not like I'm making you wear a skirt or a dress or anything. It's only a blouse."

"But these breasts! And makeup! I can't, I can't!"

"You can, and you will."

And with that, Janice took a firm hold of my elbow and marched me to the nice lady at the counter.

***

Stop #5: The Jewelry Store

Walking through the mall was pure torture. Who needs to wear blush? My face felt like it was burning up from embarrassment. And every time we passed someone, I could feel their eyes looking at me. I was a freak. They were going to throw me out.

I did my best to hide the bulges on my chest. Unfortunately, the form- fitting lacy blouse didn't help any.

"I can't do this!" I hissed at Janice.

"Oh, hush, of course you can."

"Everyone is looking at me!"

"Well of course they are! You look terrified. They are only wondering what you are so frightened of. Try and look more confident. Smile."

I did my best.

Smile, I thought. Smile.

We passed an older couple. I smiled.

And then the strangest thing happened. They smiled back! And then they went back to their conversation.

I began to feel just the tiniest bit more at ease.

"See?" Janice whispered.

Next, Janice dragged me into a Jewelry store.

"Pearls, please," Janice said to the salesman. We were directed to the pearls counter where we compared different sizes and prices.

And then it happened again, someone I knew entered the store.

"Oh shit, it's Jack!" I hissed, turning away.

"What?" Janice whispered.

"Jack! It's Jack! He's just over there!"

"Oh, I see," Janice looked at me and at Jack. I could tell she was trying to decide what to do.

"Please..." I whimpered.

"Of course, sweetie," she said. "You stay here and keep talking to the salesman. Pretend we don't know each other. I don't think Jack will recognize you. I'll go over and talk to him and make sure he doesn't come this way."

"Thank you!"

I watched, while trying not to watch, as Janice went to an entirely different part of the store and started looking at bracelets. Just as Jack passed her, she turned around and they bumped into each other.

I smiled. Her plan was working! I went back to looking at pearl necklaces, trying on different ones.

The next time I looked back, Janice and Jack were both looking at jewelry together. It looked like Jack was asking her opinion about something. Janice had her hand on his arm. Hey! She was flirting with him!

A few minutes later I took another peek.

They were gone!

"Uhh, miss? Are you okay?" asked the nice clerk.

"Yes, ummm, yes, I'm fine. It's just... ah... my friend left. And she's the one with the car keys..."

He smiled. "Oh, I'm sure she'll be right back. Have you decided?"

What to do? What to do? I agonized. Janice seemed to delight in leaving me alone in these public places.

"I don't know," I said, stalling for time. "I like this one... but it's awfully expensive..."

"If you like it, you should get it." Janice said, suddenly appearing at my side.

"Eeeep!" I jumped. "Where have you been?"

"Well, I had to make sure he was good and gone, didn't I? And Jack asked me to lunch tomorrow."

"I see."

"And look! He bought me an ankle bracelet. Wasn't that sweet of him?"

Janice pointed town to her right ankle, and sure enough, a gold chain, punctuated with small glittery diamonds encircled it.

"Yes, very nice..." I said.

It was only days later that I realized something else.

The salesman had called me 'miss'!

***

Stop #6: The Tattoo Parlor

What can I say about the tattoo parlor? I got a tattoo.

After I took off my delicate, lacy top, my bra, and my breast forms, I turned around, and allowed this well-built woman to inject ink into my shoulder.

It hurt!

But when it was done, I had small a delicate rose, permanently marked on my skin. No stupid words like "Slave of Janice" or anything, just a nice simple rose.

"Wonderful," said Janice. "So feminine. Now let's get home so you can be my wife."

Chapter 18: A Special Dinner

"Shit!" I looked at my watch and then pushed down on the accelerator. I was running late. The checkout line at the grocery story had been agonizingly slow.

Just last week, Janice had started demanding fresh, homemade dinners every night. That meant stopping at the grocery store every day to buy ingredients. Yet another burden added to my already hectic daily life.

"Step on it!" I shouted at the driver in front of me.

I knew that Janice would not be pleased if her meal was late. Her new "a spank per minute" policy made that abundantly clear. I lived in fear of being made to bend over and bare my bottom for one of my "corrective measures". Just two days ago I was a full 28 minutes late with dinner. I could barely sleep that night, the pain was so bad.

Finally I pulled the car into the driveway.

A lot had changed in just the two months since I gave into Janice and we went on our shopping trip to the mall.

As just one example, I now no longer parked in the garage. My spot in the garage was now taken up by Janice's new sports car (she kept her old car for when it rained).

After dropping the groceries off on the kitchen countertop, I raced to the bedroom, removing my shirt and tie as I went. I stripped down to bra, panties, garter, and stockings and threw all of my male clothes into the hamper. After inserting a pair of breast forms into the cups of my bra, I moved to quickly do my makeup.

Breast forms. I now wore them 24x7 while in the house. "Good wives proudly display their natural assets for their husbands at all times," Janice said.

I sat down at the small dressing table and mirror, which Janice had purchased for me. I quickly applied foundation and blush. Since laser hair removal, applying makeup had become about 100 times easier and better looking. My entire face was now hair free, and the clinician was now working on my back and chest.

Eyeliner, mascara, eye shadow, tweeze a few stray eyebrow hairs - every week my eyebrows seemed to get even thinner and more arching - lip liner, lipstick, perfume... done.

I quickly got up and went to the closet. Now was the moment of truth. Even after two months I still got butterflies. This is when I would find out what Janice had picked out for me to wear that night.

I unzipped the plastic garment bag.

Wow, elegant. A short black chiffon cocktail dress with an inner layer of black acetate and a filmy silk chiffon cover with ruffled edges around the neck, sleeves, and hem.

No wonder I had been made to wear black bra and panties that morning -- under my white dress shirt. Was it all part of Janice's master plan? So my office coworkers could see my bra beneath my shirt? I barely even raised an objection anymore.

5:20pm. Time was running out. I quickly slipped on the dress, shivering with delight as it slipped sensuously over my skin.

I looked in the garment bag and found a pair of shoes: 3 inch (8cm) black pumps. I held up the shoes and inspected them. High heels! I had been asking Janice to let me wear high heels for weeks now, but she had resolutely refused. "Wives do not wear high heels around the house," she had said, her tone allowing for no debate.

I wondered if someday I might wear strapy heals? But Janice liked me wearing stockings and garters, so I guess I would be destined to wear pumps for a long time to come. Maybe forever. I stepped into my new shoes.

My body tingled. High heels for the first time! My cock shifted uncomfortably in its confining and clutching silk prison. Why tonight? Why was Janice allowing me to wear high heels tonight?

After putting on my accessories (gold ankle bracelet, pearl necklace - that's why I had to wear pearl earrings all day, I realized) I rushed into the kitchen as quickly as I could, my heels clack-clacking on the hardwood floors.

I donned an apron and began to cook. Tonight it would be curried chicken in puff pastry with cooked carrots on the side. I would have to be careful that none of the ingredients - especially the flour - ended up on my dress.

I had made this dish before, but Janice decided that I could 'do better' and so commanded me to make it again a week later. I was under the gun to make it perfect this time, or for-sure I would be spanked...or worse.

As I worked, I reflected on what Janice had chosen for me to wear this evening. Why heels for the first time? Why no girdle, or waist cinch, or corset?

Most of the dresses I had been made to wear were standard "wifely" uniforms. Practical, 60's style, June Cleaver dresses, modest, old- fashioned, and with skirts below the knee. House dresses.

And they were all great. Wearing them, I realized that I love wearing dresses, and slips, and corsets, and garters. Often I would stop and just look at myself in the mirror, stroking my hands over my body, cupping my breasts, admiring my figure.

But tonight's dress was something special. It was new, modern, and fancy. All of the other dresses had been more casual. This one was dressy.

So, what was up?

***

"Well hello, honey, don't you look nice?" Janice said as she stepped through the door.

"Thank you," I said, my eyes lowered to the floor. I had been waiting by the door for her to step on to the front porch, so I could open it for her.

Janice put her briefcase and jacket down on the hallway bench and then lifted her skirt.

This was my cue. I sank to my knees, careful to lift my own skirt so that I would kneel directly on the floor, and then rested my nose against her panty-covered crotch.

I began my new, wifely oath. "I solemnly swear to be the best wife that I can be," I paused for a second. Her panty crotch was soaking wet! It absolutely reeked of sex. Was she masturbating at work? Or maybe.... was she cheating on me?

"Yes?" Janice prompted. "You're not done."

"Uh..." I hesitated. Should I confront her about the smell?

"Uh... Right," I continued. "... and I will strive with every fiber of my soul to provide a warm, clean, tranquil, and hospitable home and I will do so with grace, good humor, and an honest desire to please. I will always be open to suggestions for improvement, and will sincerely accept any advice or criticisms with an open heart and an honest desire for to do better."

"Furthermore..."

Okay, so she wanted the full oath today. I nestled my nose deeper into her wet and sopping crotch.

"Furthermore," I continued, "I give my life over to my husband Janice, fully and without reservation. I trust my husband to make all decisions regarding our life together and I will accept any request or command my husband makes without question or debate. My life is no longer my own, and I accept a fully subservient role to my husband's wishes, desires, and goals."

"And finally..." Janice placed her hands on my head, pushing me even more firmly against her wet, panty-covered pussy.

I breathe deeply through my nose, inhaling the pungent scent. "And finally, I realize that punishment is a necessary part of my role as wife. I desire punishment, because it helps me to realize my proper role, and further helps to purge any guilt which may arise from any transgressions, intentional or accidental, which may occur as I execute my duties."

I was now very hard and erect. Saying the full oath while kneeling in front of my wife never failed to do that. Maybe this was my proper place in life? Kneeling before a demanding woman?

"Very good," Janice said, warmly. "Now I'm sure you noticed that things are a bit messy down there."

I nodded my head.

"And that's not good, is it?"

I shook my head.

"Exactly. And you want to help, don't you?"

I nodded my head.

"Good girl. Of course you do. Oh hey, I know what you can do! Take down my panties, and then clean me up with your tongue. I would so very much appreciate if you could do that for me."

I looked up at her in surprise.

"Come now," Janice gently admonished me, "remember your oath."

I slipped two fingers into the waistband of her panties and gradually slid them down her legs. Janice stepped out of the panties and kicked them aside, and then, still holding her skirt up, she adopted a wider stance, her wet, glistening pussy just inches away from my face.

I looked carefully for signs of sperm, but there was nothing definitive. Her entire bush was just one wet, sticky mess, with the hair matted down.

"Let's get going!"

"Yes, my husband," I said, humbly.

And so I stuck out my tongue, moved in closer, and began to clean her up. Did it smell like sperm? Maybe.... but I couldn't tell for sure.

"And don't forget to swallow," Janice said, with a little giggle.

And so like a cat, I licked and swallowed, licked and swallowed. First making sure she was clean on the outside (swallowing pubic hair all the while) and then probing deeper, using my tongue as a scoop to get all of the juices out and down my throat.

"Hmmmm... very nice," Janice sighed, contentedly.

After a few more minutes, she pushed me gently away. Lifting my chin, she looked me in the eyes.

"There's something else I'd like for you to do for me - a new form of body worship. Will you do it?"

"Uh... sure... what would you like?" I asked, hesitantly.

"No questions!" she said, sharply. Then, more softly, "will you do it? This will be come a new form of worship which I would like to add to our daily greeting. Now say yes, because you know you have to."

I looked her in the eyes. "Yes, my husband."

"Say 'yes' because you love me and trust me."

"Yes, because I love you and trust you always, my husband, with all my heart and soul."

She smiled at my heartfelt additions. "Very good." Janice turned around so that she was facing away from me, then lifted her skirt and presented her bare bottom.

"I want you to use your hands to separate my ass cheeks, and then I want you to place a nice wet kiss on my anus."

I gasped. This was the very first time we had engaged in anal play of any kind. Janice was definitely taking us to a new level. Was I ready for it? Where would it end?

"Do you have a problem with my request?"

"No, my husband!" I said, quickly. I realized my breath was coming in short gasps and I had butterflies in my stomach.

"Then, what's the problem?"

"I..." I hesitated, "I want to take a second to enjoy and fully appreciate this moment."

Janice sighed in pleasure. "You are the most wonderful wife any husband could ever ask for."

Gently, and with great reverence, I put my hands on Janice's bare ass cheeks and separated them. Her crinkled asshole peeked out at me, beckoning. It was clean and smelled lightly of soap. Janice must have prepared it specially.

I wet my lips, leaned in, and kissed. I thought of it just like a mouth that I would kiss, with sensitive lips, and a tight little opening.

"Ohhhh..." Janice gasped. "How I've wanted this... Now please, keep kissing."

Janice dropped her skirt and it floated over and around my head. I was now encased in a tent full of feminine smells and female ass flesh. Janice reached around front and began stroking her clitoris.

"Yes..." she grunted, as I continued to kiss. "Now please... more tongue!"

I did as requested, using my tongue to encircle her anus, running the tip over the crinkled ridges, which reflexively clenched and expanded in pleasure.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" She gasped. "Now please! PLEASE! French kiss it!"

I pried her cheeks further apart, causing the anus to open up further, like an invitation. I wet my lips again and then pressed harder, probing with my tongue directly down the center this time, slipping it into her ass, tasting a more gamey, bitter taste - though still fantastically sensuous - all the while working my lips, in the deepest, most sensuous French kiss that I could muster.

"YES!!!" Janice convulsed before me, orgasming, shaking, and then falling to her knees, gasping and disheveled.

She turned over and laid down on her back, her face sweaty with strands of hair sticking to her forehead.

"Holy cow, that was fantastic," she said, whimpering a little. I smiled at her, proud of my abilities to reduce her to a quivering mass of orgasming woman flesh.

Janice sat up on her elbows and looked at me.

"But honey," she said, with a sly grin, "I'm afraid I'm all messy again. Would you mind... ?"

"Yes, my husband," I said with a smile as I got down to clean out her snatch which was once again flooded with her sex juices.

***

"How was work today?" I asked, putting a puff pastry on Janice's plate and then covering it with curried chicken.

The table was elegantly set, at Janice's request. There were candles with crystal candleholders, a cloth burgundy tablecloth, and our good china. It was like we were on a date!

"It was a very good day," Janice said, taking another sip of her wine and then motioned me to refill it.

"Didn't you have some meeting?" I filled up her wine glass, and then sat down at my own seat to dish up my own food.

With suggestions from Janice, I had worked out a ritual for dinner, part maid, part wife, part dinner companion. It was Janice's time to be pampered and catered to. It was my job to serve her. This started with holding her chair as she sat down, and then continued with serving all of her food and making sure that she was always well supplied with drinks.

"Yes, my 'final' organizational meeting. Three people got fired, three people got promoted, and I've made some other organizational changes."

"Is that good?" I served up my own food. My own plate was a small one. Since I was trying to lose weight, Janet said I had to make sure I had no more than half as much food as she ate, until I reached my "GW" or goal weight.

"Yes, it's very good."

"That's nice."

"No," Janice said seriously, reaching over to put her hand on mine. "You don't understand. These are the *last* changes."

"What do you mean?" I asked, nervously.

"Remember how I said that I needed your help until I could get my new department in order?"

"Yes..." I said, eyes wide open. I placed my fork down on my plate.

"Well," she said, "my new department is now in order."

"Oh!"

"Right."

"That means..."

"Yes. That means we need to talk about what happens next."

A surge of relief coursed through my body. It was over! I could now go back to my old job and stop being Rachael's assistant, and maybe I wouldn't have to rush around handling all the household chores alone all the time!

"Oh, sweetie!" I said.

"Yes," Janice said, smiling. "I know this has been hard on you, and I hope we can start to work out a new arrangement, something which is more balanced."

Tears sprung to my eyes, she did love me! She cared!

***ring***ring***

"I'll get that!" Janice said, jumping up and rushing to the next room.

While finishing my salad, I started thinking about how things could change. What did I want to change? I loved being so close to Janice, and I had to admit that I liked wearing women's clothing all the time... but I was so worried about losing my job and I felt my whole career slipping away at work. If only I could spend more time at work... and maybe Janice could help around the house more, and perhaps we could hire some maids to clean once a week?

I stopped. She sure was taking a long time. What was going on?

I got up walked to the bedroom door. Janice had closed it behind her. As quietly as possible, I opened the door and peeked into the bedroom.

Janice was holding the phone receiver and staring into space with a blank expression.

Worried, I stepped into the bedroom. "Janice?" I asked. "Are you okay?"

Startled, Janice looked at me, then closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Sorry, honey, I must have zoned out for a second."

"Who was that on the phone?"

"Oh, nobody, I think. It was just a hang-up."

I walked over to her and put a hand on her head. "Well, you don't feel feverish."

Janice playfully batted my hand away. "Of course not! Don't be silly. Let's get back to dinner."

"Okay," I turned to leave.

"But before you go..." Janice reached into her nightstand and pulled out a wooden paddle. "Five strokes for being a nosy wife."

I leaned over and put my hands on my knees, thrusting my buns out to accept the spanking.

"Nope," she said, "bare bottom this time."

With a sigh, I lifted my skirt, and pulled down my panties. They rested on my thighs framing my unprotected ass cheeks quite nicely.

**WHAP** The wooden paddle descended on my unprotected flesh.

"One," I said through gritted teeth. God that hurt! She was using her full strength. Already I felt my eyes tear up.

***

Why is it that spankings always make me more horny? Not during the spanking, I mean, but afterwards. Something about how I meekly submit to my punishment...

Regardless, after the ass kissing and the spanking, my sex drive was on turbo-boost... and Janice wasn't helping.

"Oh honey," Janice said as she stroked my cock under the dinner table. "You're leaking pre-cum and wetting your nice panties!"

"I'm sorry, my husband," I said, gasping at her manipulations.

"Oh no, don't be," she said. "In fact, I think it will end up helping when we have 'our talk.' Let's see if we can't keep you right on edge throughout dinner."

And so she did. First with her fingers, and then with her stocking foot, which stroked up and down my bare leg, and then gently tickled my balls and ass. Yum.

And then she did the most extraordinary thing.

Without asking, she took my plate away from me. Then, holding the plate before her, she gathered up a lot of spit in her mouth and then let it dribble out all over my curried chicken.

"Hey!" I said, shocked.

"Just a little extra seasoning," she said with a wicked grin on her face. Janice placed the plate back in front of me and stirred her spit into the chicken sauce.

"Now eat up!" she said, "I want you to clean your plate of every last drop!"

What is wrong with me lately? Why is it that the weirdest, most humiliating things turn me on? My cock somehow got even harder as I took my fork, speared a piece of chicken, covered it with her new spit-sauce, and then put it into my mouth.

Janice reached under the table and felt for my penis. "Goodness!" she said, surprised. "It looks like this little humiliation really does turn you on!"

"Does not," I muttered, unconvincingly.

"Does too. Here, let's try a little experiment." Janice took my plate again and this time gathered up a lot more saliva in her mouth and then dribbled it all over the plate. In parts, the sauce was clear, being more spit than curry sauce.

"Now eat this," she commanded, "and if your hard-on goes away, then I will believe that you don't find this humiliation exciting."

I took a look at the disgusting mixture before me. "I can't eat this!"

"Sure you can. We kiss all the time, right? This is nothing more than simple fluid transfer. Eat!"

Janice took my fork away from me, snagged a piece of chicken with it, and swirled it in the sauce and spit.

"Here," she said, "open up for mommy. Accept her juices and learn to love them."

After a second, I opened my mouth. Janice slowly pushed the piece of chicken into my mouth. I began to chew and then swallow.

"Good boy," she said. "Now you can finish the rest on your own."

And, thoroughly humiliated, I did.

Janice reached over and grabbed my cock.

"Hard as ever!" she crowed. "I told you so. Ooo! I have another idea."

Janice took several carrots of my plate. Lifting her dress, she thrust them into her pussy, still wet from our oral sex earlier.

"Hmmm," she said, working the walls of her vagina back and forth, "they're nice and warm."

Janice reached down, dug them out, and then placed them on my plate where they glistened from the secretions of her wet vagina.

"There you go," she said, giggling, "now they're glazed. Eat up!"

Chapter 19: We Have a "Talk"

"We have to talk."

The words most hated by men all over the country.

"Okay," I said, worried now. Janice was sitting on the sofa in the living room, and I was sitting on her lap. Janice had one hand up my skirt and it was devilishly stroking my penis. I was being hugged by the other as it reached around and squeezed my breast forms.

My god I was hard! With all her teasing and humiliation, Janice had kept me on edge throughout dinner. She even made me eat more of her special "glazed" carrots, only this time directly from her pussy as I knelt before her under the table.

And if that weren't enough, as I was doing the dishes she surprised me from behind. Pushing me over the counter, she lifted my skirt, pulled down my panties, and then slipped a small greased vibrator up my ass. This was the first time my ass had ever been penetrated.

I nearly came right then.

And then she turned it on.

I sank to my knees, right there in the kitchen. But before I could stroke myself to climax, Janice grabbed my wrists and forced them together behind my back, leaving my aching penis to push futilely against the gentle silk chiffon of the dress.

She then lifted me up and commanded me to finish the dishes. Reaching between my ass cheeks, she turned the vibrator back a notch, to "intermittent".

And now, dishes done, we were on the couch together, and she wanted to 'talk'.

Talk was the last thing I wanted right now.

**Bzzzzzzz**. "Unh" I moaned, as it went off again.

"Sweet, isn't it?" Janice said, smiling.

"Uhhhh... yes," I gasped.

"Good, that will get things off on the right foot. Remember I said how my department was now in order?"

"Yes!"

"Well, now we need to talk about where we go from here."

"Yes, please," I said. Would I finally be able to get my old job back? Rachael at work was strongly hinting that I would need to decide very soon.

"At first I was feeling bad that I had forced all of this on you, I mean, I know that you like to dress up, and I really did need your absolute attention and obedience to get through this difficult time, and so I just put two and two together. But all along, I was feeling sorry for having been so selfish about the whole situation."

I gave Janice a big hug, "Oh sweetie, that's all right, I was glad to help."

"But that was earlier," Janice continued. "Now, after tonight, and feeling this," she gave my penis another squeeze, "I'm wondering if this hasn't been just as good for you as it was for me."

"What do you mean?" I asked, worried.

Releasing my penis, Janice placed a hand lightly on my leg, stroking it.

"Tell me this, do you enjoy dressing up as a woman? Be honest."

"Uh..." I hesitated. I don't believe I ever actually admitted this to Janice directly. But after all that we'd been through... and of course I didn't want to go all the way back to wearing just men's clothing...

I gulped, and told the truth. "Yes," I admitted. "I do enjoy dressing up as a woman. I... I... I enjoy it very much."

Janice gave me a kiss on the cheek. "I thought so. Now, let's play a game. Do you want to play a game?"

"What kind of game?"

"No! No questions. Just answer me yes or no. Do you want to play a game? But wait, if you say 'yes', you have to agree to my rules."

I thought back to all of the previous 'games' I'd played with Janice. Every single one of which I lost.

Janice traced a finger over the lace of my stockings.

***Bzzzzzzz***, the vibrator buzzed to life.

"Unh!" I said, squirming. "Yes, okay! I'll play."

"You'll play by my rules, whatever they are?"

***Bzzzzz*** the vibrator continued to wriggle delightfully in my anus.

"Yes! I'll play by your rules." ***Bzt*** Finally, the vibrations stopped.

"Excellent! Okay, here are the rules. I'm going to ask you questions."

"Questions? What kind of questions?"

"Personal, difficult questions. Delicious questions. Humiliating questions. You'll like them."

"Okay..." I began to worry.

"And you have to answer every question."

"What's the catch?" I asked, getting even more worried.

Janice smiled at me. "Here's the catch. As long as your penis is hard..." Janice placed her hand gently on the noticeable bulge in my skirt and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"As long as it is hard..."

"Right, as long as it is hard, you must answer yes."

"I have to answer 'yes' to what?"

"Silly, you must answer yes to all my questions. That's all the rules. You must answer yes to all my questions as long as your penis is hard. Okay, do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Exactly!" Janice grinned. "You've already got it. Okay, let's start with an easy one. Do you like dressing up as a woman?"

"Yes," I said, adjusting my bra strap a bit.

"Do you like licking my pussy?"

"Yes."

"Do you like kissing my asshole?"

"Yes," I began to squirm. These questions were making me uncomfortably hard.

"Do you like the idea of having to wear women's underwear for the rest of your life?"

This time I paused a second before answering. "Yes..." I said slowly.

"Do you like the feeling of being trapped in women's clothing? Trapped and unable to get out of it?"

I gulped. "Yes," I whispered.

"Do you like being my wife?"

"Yes."

"Do you like being my submissive wife?"

"Yes."

"Do you like being my submissive wife who waits on me hand and foot, taking care of my every whim and desire, no matter how trivial?"

"Yes," I was breathing hard now.

Janice placed a hand on my penis and squeezed. "Still hard," she said. "You know you must answer my next question with a 'yes', right?"

"Yes," I said, my voice barely audible.

"Do you, Paul, want to be my submissive wife, who waits on me hand and foot, forever?"

"Please don't make me answer that!" I said.

"Maybe you didn't hear the question. Let me repeat it. Do you, Paul, want to be my submissive wife, who waits on me hand and foot, forever?"

"Please Janice," I said, looking at her, hoping for some pity. But her stare told me I was trapped and there was no place to go. Eventually, I gave up.

"Yes," I said. I could feel my heart palpitating.

Janice squeezed my penis again, and started stroking it. "Harder than ever," she said, wickedly. "You have to keep answering 'yes'. You understand the rules?"

"Yes," I answered.

"Good. Now, think back to dinner. Does it excite you when I humiliate you?"

"Yes."

"Like when I have you lick my anus, or when I spit in your food, or when I spank you like a baby girl... do you like all of that? Does that make you excited?"

"Yes."

"Would you like for me to humiliate you more?"

"Uh...."

"Admit it!"

"Okay... yes..."

"Would you like for me to humiliate you in front of other people?"

NO! NO! NO! My mind screamed. But I knew my penis was hard. The questions themselves were humiliating, and with all the stimulation (and Janice's gentle stroking) there was no way that I was going to lose my erection.

"yes...." I whispered, barely audible.

"What was that?" Janice said, "I didn't hear you."

"Yes," I said, louder.

"Really?" Janice asked, faking incredulity. "You actually want me to humiliate you *more*... and also in front of other people?"

"Yes," I said, defeated.

Janice continued squeezing and stroking my penis. Her stroking felt incredible, through the smooth silk of the skirt.

"Wow," she said, "I guess I'll have to start being even more creative about how I humiliate you. This is going to be fun! Don't you agree?"

"Yes."

"That's right. Now, let's move on. Let's see, you like being my submissive wife, and you want to do that forever. You like being humiliated, and you want to do that a lot more, and in public, too. And you like dressing up as a woman, and you want to do that forever. What should I ask next?"

Janice paused for a second, tapping a finger on her temple, as if she were deep in thought.

"Oh I know!" she said. "Do you want to dress up as a woman outside the house?"

I struggled, trying to get up out of her lap. "I don't want to play anymore," I said.

"No, no, no!" Janice said, grabbing me firmly. I wriggled to get out of her clutches, but she had too good a grip.

"Let me go!" I said.

"Finish the game!" she shouted. "Say it! Say yes!"

I stopped struggling, and turned to look her in the eyes.

"Say yes," she said. "You know you want to."

"Yes," I said.

"I'm not sure I heard you properly. You want to dress as a woman outside the house?"

"Yes," I said, starting to tear up. But why was I still hard?? DAMN IT? WHY DID I FIND ALL THIS HUMILIATION SO EXCITING?

"Do you want to dress as a woman all the time?"

"No," I said.

**SLAPP** Janice slapped my face. "You're not playing by the rules, Paul. Now you know what you must say. Your penis is still rock hard. Now say it. Do you, Paul, want to dress as a woman all the time?"

I felt completely and utterly defeated. "Yes," I said.

"All day long?"

"Yes."

"Every minute of every hour of every day, 24x7, three hundred and sixty days of the year, holidays included?"

"Yes!" Damn my penis, it was getting even harder! I was getting more excited!

"For the rest of your life?"

"Yes!"

"Do you want to go to work dressed as a woman?"

"No..." as Janice reached up to slap me I quickly changed my tune, "I mean, yes!" Wait, I thought, frantically, what had I done?

"Really? You want to go to work dressed as a woman? You want to be a woman full time, even at work?"

***Bzzzzzz*** GOD DAMN IT! The vibrator buzzed to life again. SHIT!

"Yes!" I said. Oh my god, so close to orgasm...

"What if Rachael would only let you go to work dressed as a woman if you were her secretary? Would you still want to dress up as a woman all the time?"

"Yes!"

Janice reached a hand down between my buns and pushed the vibrator further up my ass.

"Really?" She asked, "You want to become a secretary?"

"Yes!"

"Rachael's secretary?"

"Yes!"

"Her submissive secretary?"

My eyes went wide open. Oh my god this was so humiliating....

"Yes!"

"Even if it meant taking a pay cut, to minimum wage? Even if it meant your career was ruined?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh my god!" I babbled.

And then I came, my sperm splashing all over my new, black crepe silk cocktail dress.

Chapter 20: I run away

"Jack, thank god you're home. Janice and I have had a fight. Can I spend the night?"

I was standing on the front steps outside Jack's row house. He was standing in the open door, in a robe, looking at me, blurry eyed.

"Geez, Paul. It's what, 2 am?"

"I'm sorry..."

Jack stepped aside. "Hey, no problem, come on in. Let me get you a cup of tea."

"Oh, no thanks," I stepped inside and put my bag down on the floor.

"No, I insist," Jack said, going to the kitchen.

It had been a rough night. After being manipulated by Janice into giving my life away, I just got up and left. The orgasm had turned out to be a blessing, because it cleared my head. What was I doing? Giving up my career? All that money my parents spent to put me through college? All those years working to become an IT manager?

I went to sit on the couch exhausted. Originally, I was going to just sleep in the car, but then a cop tapped on the window and told me to 'move along!'. Embarrassed, I realized I was still dressed in the cum-stained cocktail dress. I quickly drove somewhere else, changed into my old (men's) clothing - the ones I had hid in the car - and then drove over to Jack's place.

"Here you go," Jack said, handing me the tea.

I took a sip. "Hmmm, strange flavor," I said. "What kind is it?"

"Oh, some relaxing, 'sleepy time' blend, I don't know. Drink up."

I took a long drink. It was only barely warm, so it was easy to drink.

Jack sank down into a chair opposite me. "So, do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

"Oh, god... I don't even know where to begin."

"Why not start from the beginning?"

I considered it. But I couldn't begin at the beginning, after all, Jack would then remember about the mind-control drug, and he might then not be able to pass his lie detector tests.

"I can't do that, Jack."

"Why not?"

Why was I suddenly so sleepy? My eyes closed for a second, as my head fell to my chest.

"Why not?" Jack asked again.

I jolted up. "Why not what?"

"I can't," I said... my mind was so foggy, why was that? "because..."

"You mean, because the beginning starts with my mind control drug?"

"What... huh?" I said, barely understanding him. I closed my eyes again, my brain too fuzzy to think straight.

"Ever wonder what really happened to that second dose?" Jack said.

But wait... I tried to think... something was wrong. Jack wasn't supposed to know about the mind control drug... but why not? Oh, right... because he made himself forget... And what was that about the second dose?

"But... you're not supposed to... second dose..." I mumbled.

"Shhhh, it's Okay, Paul. Go to sleep." Jack said, gently.

"Okay..."

***

"Ack!" I sat up, startled.

Sunlight was streaming in the windows of Jack's living room. Through blurry eyes I looked at my watch.

10:30 am.

Shit. I was late for work.

I looked around. Why was I here? I thought back to last night. There had been something last night... I must have left home... for some reason or other...

I held my head in my hands. Oh my god I had a headache.

Did Janice and I have a fight? I remember cooking dinner for her... I think I remember that we talked on the sofa... but what did we talk about?

Damn. It was like I had a mental block. I stretched and walked to the kitchen to fetch something to drink.

There was a note on the refrigerator.

Paul:

Thought you needed to sleep. Janice called. She's sorry and wants you home. Stay here as long as you like, but please give this card to Janice the next time you see her.

Thanks, Jack

Underneath a refrigerator magnet was a sealed envelope addressed to "Janice". It looked like it contained thank-you card of some sort. I took it down and put it in my pocket.

***

"Oh hi, Paul," Rachael said, answering the phone. I had called work to tell them I'd be late. "How're you feeling?" she asked.

"A little woozy... but I'm coming to work. Sorry I didn't call earlier, but I overslept."

"Oh no you don't!" Rachael said, sternly. "Janice called and said you were out sick, and we don't want you in here spreading germs around the office."

"But really, I'm fine."

"Stay home. Get better. See you tomorrow."

And so, brushing aside my protestations, Rachael hung up.

So now what?

I looked around Jack's apartment. "My god, he's a slob," I thought to myself.

Without thinking, I started to clean.

***

I started first by simply organizing everything, sorting dirty laundry into piles, gathering up piles of papers, books, throwing away old pizza boxes, etc.

But something was wrong. Something *felt* wrong. Then, as I started the dishes, I realized what it was.

It didn't feel right to be doing housework in men's clothing! Janice had trained me so well, that now I felt uncomfortable around the house in pants and an ordinary cotton shirt.

But what had happened to my dress from last night? I know I was wearing a dress for dinner with Janice, but after that... my mind was blank.

Maybe in the car? I went outside and rummaged through my car.

Sure enough, there was a plastic bag, and inside was the black cocktail dress from last night. And on the front of the dress... cum stains.

I must have cum on my dress last night. But when? With Janice? In the car?

Frustrated, I slapped the side of the car. Damn.

Whatever. I took the clothes inside and cleaned up the cum stains as best I could. It was better, but the dress would definitely have to be dry-cleaned. I took off all my male clothes, put them into the plastic bag, and dressed. There was a clean bra and pair of panties in the bag, so I put those on, and then the garters and stockings, and the shoes (three inch heels, "nice" I thought to myself). Finally, I slipped the dress on over my head and felt the now-familiar tingle as it floated down my body.

Breast forms! I looked in the bag. There they were! I lifted the dress over my chest, and slipped them into the bra cups.

Adjusting everything and sliding my hands over my body... it felt good. Too dressy for housework, of course, but better than pants.

And so I went back to doing cleaning up Jack's apartment.

***

Sifting through his dirty laundry was a chore. There was so much of it! Not only all over the house, but also piled four feet (1.3m) high in the closet.

And then, as I was sorting darks and lights, I spied something.

A jock strap.

I knew that Jack was an avid Jogger, so of course he would wear jock straps while jogging. I picked it up and fingered the smooth nylon webbing. For some reason, my cock shifted uncomfortably in my panties.

But I wasn't gay, was I? I had never thought before of being with another man, had I?

But the tingle in my loins was unmistakable. I was turned on.

I brought the jock strap to my nose and took a sniff. Oh gosh... what a musky, damp, rich, wonderful smell. My hand unconsciously drifted to the bulge in the front of my skirt and started to stroke it.

I pictured Jack wearing the jock strap. The basket cupping his ample penis and balls, compressing them into a nice, tight package. Of course I had seen his penis before, sometime in college, so I knew how it looked. Large, if I remember right, certainly larger than mine.

Then I noticed his jogging clothes: ratty old college T-Shirt and loose nylon running shorts. I picked them up and fingered them, and then held them to my nose and sniffed.

Mmmmmmm.

And then I could picture him so clearly, standing before me, having just come home from a run, sweating, T-Shirt with wet spots, breathing heavy. Running shorts clinging to his taut buns.

And then I pictured myself kneeling before him, gently tugging his shorts down to expose the nylon jock strap, gently running my fingers over the nylon webbing, then leaning in close...

... and placing a kiss right on his balls, my nose in his crotch, smelling his rank-sweaty smell. Jack put his hands in my hair and pulled my head in tight to his crotch, mashing my face against his package...

"Unh!" I grunted as I came -- splashing cum all over my nice black cocktail dress for the second time in as many days.

***

I sat back, stunned. WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME?

My mind whirled. I couldn't believe it. I had never found Jack the slightest bit sexy -- never. I had never thought twice about men. Never!

Shit. I put my head in my hands and cried. What was happening to me????

***

Jack,

Thanks for letting me spend the night. Hope you don't mind, but I cleaned up your apartment. Just my way of returning the favor.

Now that I've had a chance to think things over, I'm going back home to Janice. I'll be sure to give her the envelope.

Thanks again, Paul

(End of Part II)

...continued in Part 3