(This is based on a true story.)
Martha really did love her husband, George. But not for what
he did in bed.
While he was a kind and caring man, she’d always felt
something odd about him.
He played the role as breadwinner, although she never saw
him as particularly competent Worse, he resisted all her suggestions how to
make things better, insisting she be a housewife and nothing more. This had led
to countless arguments and sometimes thoughts about divorce.
She never mentioned divorce to George. She did love him. She
wanted to avoid hurting him, especially when the kids were still in the house.
But once the kids moved out on their own, and it was just
the two of them again, she started thinking again.
Frustrated, Martha consulted their oldest daughter, Mary, the
most worldly of their three kids.
“I don’t know what to do,” Marha said to Mary a one of their
regular lunches in the mall. “But if I
don’t do something soon, I might come to hate him.”
Mary nodded, having witnessed much of this growing up in the
house.
“Have you thought about counselling?” Mary asked.
“George would never go for that,” Martha said. “He’s just
too traditional.”
Then Mary suggested Martha go to a therapist herself.
“What good would that do?” Martha asked. “He’s the one who
needs help, not me.”
“Maybe there’s a way around that,” Mary said. “I know a
therapist that might help both of you.”
Mary accompanied Martha to Dr. Glenda’s office, a pretty
woman slightly older than Mary, but seemed remarkably wise
“Have you ever heard of a woman-led marriage?” Dr. Glenda
asked.
“No,” Martha admitted. “What is it?”
“It’s when a woman takes charge.”
“My husband would never tolerate that,” Martha laughed.
“He wouldn’t need to know – at least, at first.”
“I wouldn’t want to trick him into anything,” Martha said. “I’m
not sure I could live with that.”
“You would be tricking him for his own good,” Dr. Glenna
said., “And yours. From what you’ve told me, he might be much happier if you
did – not to mention you might finally get the love life you deserve.”
“I doubt I could make him into a better lover,” Martha said.
“I never said he would be the one to satisfy your needs,”
Dr. Glenda said. “That’s the benefit in all this. You’re going to help him
transform into what we all know he really is, and that will set you free to
find pleasure in other men or even women.”
On the surface, Martha was appalled, but deep down, the doctor’s
words had touched something inside her.
“How do we do this?” Martha asked.
“In small increments,” the doctor said. Then Dr. Glenna
retrieved a book from the shelf and slid it across the desk to Martha.
“Read this, it’ll teach you how to do it,” the doctor said. “It’s
all in there.”
-----
On Saturday morning, Martha shouted from kitchen for George.
She had a pattern and the makings of a dress spread out on the table.
George entered from the door leading to the living room. He
looked a bit sleepy and no doubt had nodded out on the couch while watching football
pregame shows.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“It’s this dress,” Martha said. “Mary was supposed to help
me with it, but she’s nowhere to be found.”
“Did you call her?”
“Several times,” Martha said. “I someone to help me fit this
out. I can’t do it by myself.”
“Do you want me to go look for her, she might be down at her
husband’s store.”
“There’s no time,” Martha said. “I have to have this dress
ready by tomorrow. You’re going to have to help me.”
“Sure, how?”
“I need you to put the dress on so I can fix it right.”
George’s face went white.
“You want me to wear a dress?”
“Just so I can fix it,” Martha said. “No one else will see
it, and I’d be very grateful if you did.”
This last she said with a heavy suggestion of a reward later
in the bedroom.
George sighed. “Okay,” he mumbled.
“Oh! Thank you so much,” Martha. “Now strip.”
“Strip?” he said stunned.
“You can’t put a dress on over what you’re wearing, silly.”
George reluctantly removed his shirt, then his pants.
“Keep going,” Martha said. “Take it all off, including your
socks.”
Reluctantly, George complied. Martha giggled as she looked
at his limp cock.
“What are laughing at?” he asked indignantly.
“Nothing really,” she said. “I just forgot how little is.
Now put these one.”
She held out a pair of pink pan ties and a matching bra.
“What the fuck?” George bellowed.
“The dress won’t fit right without the proper under garments,”
Martha said. “Just put them on, then I’ll help you put on these.”
She held up some pantyhose.
“Don’t you think that’s going a little too far?” George
asked.
“Stop complaining,” Martha said. “The sooner you do what I
say, the sooner this will all be over with.”
He clearly didn’t like it, but he did it. That’s when she
came out with the blonde wig.
“Don’t tell me you need that to fit a dress.”
“I need to see how it all comes together on a woman,” she
said, and resigned to his fate, George complied.
“Last but not least,” Martha said, producing a pair of pink
high heels. “And don’t give me lip. I need you in the shoes to see where the
bottom of the dress falls.”
Oddly enough, the shoes fit him. But then Martha had bought
them to fit him.
Just then, the back door opened and their daughter Mary
walked in.
“Better late than never,” Marth said with a wink. “You almost
missed the whole show.”
Mary stared at her father in amazement and disbelief.
“I can’t believe you got him to do it,” Mary said. “He
looked great. He’s much prettier as a woman than he ever was as a man.”
“Okay, you got your giggles,” George said. “Can I get out of
this stuff now?”
“Not yet,” Marry said. “There’s something missing.”
“What on earth could you possibly think of for me to wear
now.”
“Makeup,” Mary said. “It would be the finishing touch.”
“Fuck no!”
“George!” Martha scolded. “You promised to help me.”
“But only because Mary wasn’t here, now she is. She can do
this.”
“And waste all the time I’ve been working on you,” Martha
said. “I don’t want to re do everything. Mary put on his makeup. I want the
complete look.”
“And then this will be over?” George asked.
Martha grinned devilishly saying, “Maybe.”
Marty giggled and fetched her make-up kit from the car. She
had done some work at the salon, and clearly knew what she was doing,
decorating his face, plucking his eyebrows before applying extensive mascara,
eye shadow, lash extensions, finishing off with a glazing cherry red lipstick.
“My God,” Martha exclaimed. “You look divine.”
“I think I look slutty,” George said, looking into the mirror
Mary held up.
“Exactly,” Marha said.
“We need to capture this for posterity,” Mary said, taking
out her phone to snap some pictures.
‘No, no, don’t do that!” George said.
But he could not stop her. She even started shooting video.
“Why don’t you pose for us,” Mary suggested. “Show us what
you got, Sissy.”
“No.”
Stop spoiling the fun,” Martha said. “Give us a little sexy
attitude for our film.
“I’m not going there.”
“George!” Martha said crossly. “Do what she says, or we’ll
keep you dressed up like that all night.”
With even greater reluctance, George did what he was told,
responding to suggestions Mary made, full of sexual inuendo. He acted sexy,
even slutty, and then Mary put the phone away.
“Got it!” she told Martha.
“Are we finally through?” the impatient George asked.
“Not quite,” Martha said, suddenly very serious. “We have
just documented you being a silly slut, and you do exactly what we tell you to
do or there will be a lot of people seeing these videos, including your boss,
our minister and anybody else trolling social media.”
“You’re kidding, right?” George said..
“I’ve never been more serious in my life,” Martha said. “From
this moment on, I own you.”
----
In the living room later, Martha, sitting on the couch with
George on a nearby chair, discussed the future. She had let him take off the dress,
but not the underwear.
“You’ll need to get used to dressing like a woman,” Martha
said. “Because I’m only going to allow you to dress that way. We’ll get you more
clothing as we go on, women’s clothing. You are going to dress like a woman
from now on. I’ve already gotten rid of all your male clothing.”
“I can’t very well go to work like that,” George said,
peeved because he still seemed to think this was a joke.
“Of course not,” Martha said. “That’s why you won’t be going
to work any more.”
“What?”
“Our therapist – who came up with the scheme – has arranged
a job for me, paying me more than you get from your job. So, we won’t be financially
strapped.”
“If you’re working, who will take care of the house?”
“You will,” Martha said, “dressed as a maid. I’ve taken the
liberty of buying an outfit for you. It’s in the closet in the spare room where
you will be sleeping from now on. Sex between us is over. The master bedroom is
mine and you won’t be welcome there unless I invite you.”
“This is outrageous!” George growled.
Martha slapped his face.
“Pay attention. There’s going to be rules you will need to
follow.”
“What kind of rules?”
“Whatever I decide,” Martha said. “First of all, you’re
going to start addressing me as mistress, and you speak only when I permit you
to do so.”
“But…”
“Also, you will do whatever I ell you to do, without
question, without fair or back talk. You violate any of my rules, you will be
punished.”
“Martha! Why are you doing this?”
“To save our marriage,” Martha said, “and to get a little
payback for all those years when out reamed me as a servant.”
“I never meant to…”
“What’s more, I will control everything, all the finances
and anything else. You will be responsible for cleaning, cooking, doing laundry
and maybe other chores that come to mind,” she said.
“I’m not going to tolerate this,” George said, although weakly.
“You will,” Martha said. “Even if you petition for divorce,
I’ll get everything, since the video shows I married cross-dressing sissy. You either
do what I tell you or wind up homeless on the street, penniless.”
-----
Martha felt a twinge of guilt, and yet felt liberated, too,
as if she’d lived her whole life under a yoke, and only now realized it. She
was determined to take full advantage of it, just as the book said she should.
And in truth, seeing George dressed as a girl, filled in the
missing pieces as to why their sex life was so unfulfilling. Down deep, he
really was a sissy. He simply needed help to access it, and she intended to guide
him into his new life. If he embraced being what he really is, he might find
some level of joy of his own.
-----
Mary came over the next morning to put the finishing touches
on George as a maid – a French maid at that, tapping into her makeup skills.
“I want him to look like the sluttiest maid in the world,”
Maratha told Mary in front of George.
This meant exaggerated makeup, vibrant purple eye shadow
down to ruby colored lipstick. She attached glue on finger nails of the same
color, which would be replaced with acrylic once they got him to the salon.
“How the hell am I supposed to do chores wearing nails like
this?” George complained, waving his fingers in the air. Martha had also given
him a number of rings, one for each finger, including thumbs. Somewhere she had
found old style loop earrings, which she attached to the lobe of each ear. So large,
these touched his cheeks.
‘You’re going to work with care,” Maratha said. “After all,
women have had to work with them all our lives. And you’d better not nick them.
I expect to find them all in tact when I get back from the office.”
Mary again pulled out her phone for more pictures and video,
though this time, George wisely avoided giving her any slutty poses. He didn’t
need to. His slutty face said it all.
Mary continued to shoot video as she followed Martha and
George through the house with Martha pointing out all the chores she expected George
to address.
“All these things better be done by the time I get home or
you’ll get punished,” Martha told him.
“What exactly do you mean by punished?” George asked.
“You’ll soon find out the hard way if you fail to call me
mistress,” Martha said. “And if you don’t accept that, then divorce is still an
option.”
Martha announced that she had to go to work, leaving Mary to
supervise, at least, for the first day.
“Don’t you feel ashamed about what my wife is doing to me?”
George asked Mary.
“Not in the least,” Mary said, coldly, making it clear he
would find no sympathy in her, as she continued to make videos of him doing his
chores.
----
Martha got home late, carrying a number of bags from what
turned out to be the sex toy store in the mall.
She summoned George to the master bedroom where she had laid
out the toys in the bed.
“You asked about punishment,” Martha said, pointing to a
variety of whips or riding crops, as well as other equally nefarious items.
“Not all of these will bring you pain,” she told George. “Some
of these might even bring you pleasure.”
She pointed to a harness beside which were a number of penis-shaped
dildos, some extremely large.
George shuddered.
“But pleasure is not the point,” Martha went on. “I need to
prepare you for the real thing.”
“Maratha!” George yelled. “You’re taking this joke way too
far.”
Martha grabbed a riding crop from the bed and struck George on
the shoulder with it.
“That’s mistress to you,” she said. “And this is not a joke
at all. Tomorrow I’ll start training you to be the sissy you really are.”
Then, she dismissed him, telling him to go back to the spare
room until she needed him again. She locked her door after he left. She cringed
at the thought of striking him, but it also pleased her, deeply.
---
Mary remained most of the next day, but did not follow him
around taking video as she had done the first day. She sat in the living room
watching girl movies on YouTube.
Again, Mary got home early and announced: “We’re going to
the man and Salon.”
She directed George to change from his uniform to the dress
he had worn on the first day.
“You’re going to love this,” she told George. “We girls love
to shop and get our nails done.”
George had a difficult time walking in the high heels. Mary
and Martha each took him by an arm, guiding him out of the house to the car.
“You’re going to have to learn all this,” Martha told him as
she held open the front passenger side door for him to get in, just as he had
always done over the years as her husband.
At the salon, the women there made such a fuss over him, George
felt almost like a movie star. They improved on Mary’s work, and helped remove all
of his body hair, which Martha said he would do again later at home using various
creams. He yelped at the waxing, drawing a bit of devious grin from Maratha who
thought: “Now you know what women go through.”
The pop on nails got replaced with acrylic, painted the same
extreme red as his lips. His toe nails were painted to match as well.
George still retained the wig, but Martha assured him this
would only be until his natural hair grew.
“You have such beautiful hair, I’m sure some man will love
to run his fingers through it,” Martha said.
In the mirror, George looked even more beautiful than
before, but also much sluttier.
“This is what I want you to look like all the time,” Martha
told him. “I want you to understand you are no longer a man.”
“I think you look fabulous, Dad,” Mary told him, unable to
suppress the mockery in her voice. She had made a video of the whole process.
----
Clothing stores came next, one after another after another, with
George trying an endless number of outfits, all of these even sluttier than the
one before, Martha making the final decisions on those she bought. She also
stocked up on the more girly underwear, matching bras, and padding to fill up
the bra with, buying enough of everything to keep Geroge in a full wardrobe
that would last him weeks.
“When you’re not wearing the maid’s outfit, I want you
dressed up like a whore,” Martha said, humorously, but with an undertone of
conviction.
Back home, she ordered him to accompany her into the master
bedroom.
“Pull down your panties and pantyhose,” she commanded, then
grabbed his cock when he did, holding it in the palm of her hand. “Such a
little thing. I wonder how it gave me any pleasure at all.”
She took out a small pink plastic container, a chastity
cage, she called it, put his cock in it, locked it.
“That’s the last you’re ever going to see it,” she said. “Later,
we’ll find a better way to get rid of it, again with that mixed tone of humor
and dead seriousness. “Now, get down on your knees, bitch!”
Already worn by the previous days of abuse, George complied.
Mary came into the room, once more video taping it all,
while Martha put on the harness and fit one of the largest dildos into it. She
pressed the tip of it against George’s lip.
“Open up, sissy,” she commanded. “You know what to do.”
George opened his mouth just enough to let the tip in.
“Touch it with your tongue,” Martha said. “Lick around the
head. You know. It’s instinct. It’s what you dreamed for all your life, even
while you made love to me.”
She eased the dildo in a little more into his mouth, one perilous
inch at a time, not all the way in, not yet, just enough inside for him to feel
it against his tongue and the sides of his mouth. Drool pour out from his lips
on either side, making the fake cock glitter, then with a violent jerk, she shoved
it all the way in, hard, hitting the back of his throat until he gaged, and
still she did not relent, forcing it still deeper. He gagged more, still she
didn’t stop, and when she did, she drew back only slighting and then began
pushing in and drawing out, slowly at first, then faster. She grabbed the sides
of his face and fucked his mouth still harder, all this, she thought, revenge
for when he’d asked for similar service when he was still her husband.
“Now he knows how it feels,” she thought, then fucked him
harder, faster, until he seemed to accept it.
“Good, Girl,” she said. “Take it all.”
Drool continued to pour of from his lips around the cock.
Finally, she pulled the cock out.
“Turn over,” she commanded.
He complied.
She fetched a tube from the bed and squeezed liquid into the
palm of hand, lube she applied to his now exposed ass hole. She slid a finger
inside. He moaned. Then, she used two fingers, lightly fucking him, then three,
and then unexpectedly, she shoved the fake cock into him, causing him to gasp.
“Do you like that, honey?” she asked. “Do you enjoy getting
fucked in the ass?”
George only groaned.
“IO thought you would,” she said, then began to fuck him in
earnest, knowing that it hurt at first, but that would soon cause pleasure,
too, provided he accepted it.
“I knew it all along,” she said, continuing to fuck him,
sometime slowly, other times fast, then very hard until he seemed to wilt beneath
her, sagging like a paper doll.
She withdrew and slapped his ass lightly.
“Go get cleaned up and read for bed. “You have been a good
sissy boy.”
----
“We need to give you a new name,” Martha announced the next
morning as she prepared to go to work. “Your name is too manly for what you are
now. I think I’ll call you jane. Do you
like your new name?”
George paused for only a moment before giving her a nod.
“Great! Tonight we’ll go out on the town and celebrate the
new you,” Martha said, informing him as to which of the slutty outfits she
expected him to wear.
George waited, fully dressed as she said when she arrived,
though she wasn’t, and has to rush out to the master bedroom to put on her
outfit, which as it turned out, was just as slutty as his, making it impossible
to tell who was husband or who was wife.
Mary made a video of it all, then accompanies them to the car,
door open for George to get in, as Martha climbed behind the wheel, and Mary
into the back seat documenting the adventure.
“I’ve made up a new rule,” Martha said. “When we get to the
club, I get to fuck anyone I want, maybe more than one. But I get to decide who
is going fuck you. Is that understood?”
Dumbfounded, George gave another nod.
They looked so slutty, the doorman waved them into the club,
Martha steering towards several seats at the bar. Mary continued to video tape.
Then, Martha had a moment of conscience, leaned near to
George’s ear: “I know this is going to be hard on you,” she said. “But we need
to get the worst of it out of the way so there will be no surprises later. I’m
going to fuck a lot of men in the future, and if I’m feeling benevolent, I’ll
let you suck men’s cocks and let them fuck you in the ass. But you need to
understand, I get what I want before anything else. You exist entirely for my
pleasure, my property, my sissy maid, who I get to play with. I will make all
the decisions for your life, for our lives together, and you will learn to
accept these. We will remain married, but I will always be the boss.”
Again, all George could do was nod.
Men came over, bought them drinks, asked them both to dance.
Martha watched George closely.
“If you do or say anything I don’t like, I’ll punish you
severely when we get home,” she said. “You are here to suck cock and get
fucked, and for that matter, so am I.”
With Martha’s encouragement, George accepted a dance with one
of the men, an almost nameless entity, who – when Martha nodded – George led
into the back of the club, falling to his knees before the man, clawing open
his britches until the man’s cock fell out, and then, repeating the act he had
done on the lifeless dildo at home, George licked and sucked and let the man
fuck his face until cum came, pouring out of George’s mouth along with the
drool. The man vanished, and George redid his lipstick and started back towards
the bar where he had left Martha and Mary, meeting Martha halfway as she
dragged two other nameless men into the back, giving George a slutty smile and
a wink.
George waited at the bar until Martha reappeared, slightly
crumpled, lipstick smeared, dress partially torn.
“This is what I always wanted,” Martha said, squeezing
George’s arm.
“Me, too,” George said.
Martha looked at him closely, trying to read his thoughts,
and came to the conclusion, he meant it.
“We are going to have a wonderful marriage together,” Martha
said, and kissed her sissy husband on the lips.
