Submitted by: Bowzer

Okay, I know it is my fault... I bug my wife. But how can you blame me? I am so horny all the time. She doesnt want to cuddle or anything, and all I want to do is get close and hump her leg. I try to buy extra things for her, soften the impact for the countless times I sigh close to her ear and ask for a little relief.

She gets tired of my whining, tells me it is my fault, this is what I wanted. Then, today happened.

Oh, I was disappointed in my panties.

I held the plain, whities up and inspected them.

Every day she left something under the pillow for me to wear, but it was always just panties.

What? she asked, coming out of the bathroom.

My heart stopped, I had trouble breathing. The sight of her in her Fredericks panties and bra just about undid me. Her skin is so soft, her golden hair so delightfully tossed, her red lips so plump and perfect for kissing...kissing.

Stop staring and speak up, she commanded.

I just... I always wear panties.

She crossed the room, and irritation was writ upon her face. Whining. How many times have I told you not to whine?

Im sorry, I-


I shut.

She tapped my piece. The sound of knuckles on plastic tortured me, the thrill through my groin elevated me, her lips so close and her breath upon my cheek and her blue eyes so--

She tapped harder. Did you hear me?

What? I hadnt heard her. I was so sex stupid she had talked into my face and I hadnt heard her.

I said... when you get home tonight, after dinner, Ill fix you up.

Fix me up... what does that mean? From her tones, her ready acquiescence to my whining, I suspected her of motives.

It means go to work, make me some money, and tonight, after dinner, I will have something for you to wear. Got it? She smiled, and now there was no trace of subterfuge. She was actually just going to kink me out for the sake of kinking me out. Oh, be still my aching cock.

Of course, before I went to work I was bid to kneel between her legs, and my tongue was abused in a manner most delightful. When I did go to work I was never so aware of my disembodied manhood, floating between my legs, rarely let to spring, rarer let to squirt.

Oh, my wife, my heart, my life.

I went to work.


Work was torture.

I sat in my cubicle and made money, lots of money, but it was hard to concentrate on what my clients were saying.

Sell short, I think that and the word short distracted me, sent me into daydreams of how I was forced to be short by the plastic cage that throttled my throb and intensified the feelings that coursed

If we buy commodities and I would start thinking about commodes, and having to sit to pee, and how wonderful it was to just sit on the throne and stare at Julie putting on make up, or taking off make up, her heavy breasts over the make up table, her nipples thrusting forward, her... her... her

So the day went. Me dragging myself back into conversations, constantly playing catch up with what the customers were saying. I tell you, it was a glad me when five rolled around and I was set free. I had never looked so forward to dinner in my life.


Honey! Im home! I entered our house. Not a sound. My lust disappointed, I hurried through the rooms. Nothing. Upstairs...a note.

Be home late. Cook for yourself. Remove all hair below the ears. Be ready.

Late? What did that mean? I wanted to eat dinner right then and... and get on with the nights festivities!

Cook? My belly felt like it was going on the largest roller coaster in the world. I could scarcely breath for desire. It had been nearly three months since I had squirted.

Oh, I had been released for cleaning weekly, but that cautious and gentle handling did nothing to assuage the building fire in my groin, the anticipation that warmed my whole body.

And, I had been milked twice. I am milked monthly when on a sex fast, as Julie describes it.

I fast, and she gluttons. I massage and tongue and whimper and drip, and she luxuriates and gloats and orgasms nightly. Several times nightly.

So the milking, like the cleaning, did nothing but fan the flames of excitement, make the eternal throb in my ever loving heart greater and always greater.

So, she was late, I didnt feel like cooking, that left... remove all hair!

I went to the bathroom and found a bottle of Nair for Men. I coated myself from the ears down, took great care to make sure that every, little curly was covered and ready to go by by.

Then the shower, and the thin strands did go by by.

Out of the shower, only a few minutes had passed, why was the time dragging so dreadfully?

I walked naked around the house, my heart in my throat, and wondered what the night held for me. I could hardly swallow, I was so excited.


Julie arrived home at just after nine. Her car pulled into the driveway, and I hurried to the kitchen. I heard the garage door lower, and I opened the kitchen door. I was naked, and so much in love, and--


Julies friend Marcie was standing next to the car, about to close the passenger door. Her eyes were alight, gleaming in pleasure, and she was grinning.

I was naked. Except for the plastic grip between my hairless legs.

Tom? Youve met Marcie? Marcie... Tom. My wife performed the introductions as if we had never met.

I could only stand and stare, the deer not just in the headlights, but in the headlights of a 747 coming in for a landing. I was unaware of my heart beating, I was adrift from my body, I was in shock.

Julie brushed past me, Packages in the trunk. Upstairs. No peeking.

Then Marcie, an absolutely huge grin plastered across her face, sauntered past me. Nice duds, slick. She tapped on my cage.

It took me a few minutes to regain control of myself. Slowly, however, I began to move. I went to the trunk of the Mercedes and began unloading packages. It was a roomy trunk, and there were a lot of packages.

I brought the packages into the house. I had to enter the living room to go up the steps, and Julie and Marcie sat and sipped wine. They stopped talking as I went up the stairs. The air was heavy with their silent laughter, however, and I peeked quick and noted, again, the monstrous grin on Marcies face.

You are right. His body is just right.

I was out of hearing then, and I wondered, right for what?

A couple of trips and the packages were all in the bedroom, and, not knowing what else to do, I trudged down the stairs.

All done, honey?

I nodded. I tried to speak, but my throat locked. Heck, my lungs were locked, my heart was locked, my freakin brain was locked.

Sit here and have a sip. Julie indicated the couch across from where the two girls were sitting in chairs. There was a tall drink on the low table.

I sat, aware that I was sweating profusely, and picked up the drink. The girls watched me as I tried to sip and ended up taking a loud gulp.

Boom! Wild Turkey scorched my throat. Julie had been quite generous. Of course, I needed it.

Honey, let me start by saying that Marcie knows all about you.

She does? Another huge drink. The brown liquid in that over-sized glass was down by half.

Oh, yes.

I risked a look at Marcie.

I think its cute. I want to get one for Dave. I need a clean house.

I took another sip. My throat was still dry. My heart still lurched. Still, I was being comforted down.

Tell me, does it ever hurt?

Morning wood, I gasped, and I became aware that in my shock I hadnt even thought about my pecker. I suddenly became extremely, excruciatingly aware, that I was sitting nude, and that my wife and her best friend were not.

And what about when you see other women? Does that give you wood?

Uh, I glanced at Julie, who just waited with a satisfied look on her face. Sometimes.

Probably has to have tits like mine, though. Right?

Marcie squeezed her right breast and held it towards me. She was a dark haired beauty, and her breasts were every bit as plump as my wifes.


Answer honestly, Julie advised.

Uh shifting my gaze back and forth, truly trapped, Yes.

Marcie giggled.

Told you, put in Julie.

Yet, she wasnt unhappy. She was smiling openly, almost as if she was proud of me, and then I realized something. My groin was a prisoner. If Angeline Jolie was to get naked and rub up against my body, my wife wouldnt care. There was no getting out for me, and she would be the only recipient of my excitement.

What about when you are having sex... giving sex... what is it like?

Tom, before you answer, get another drink and turn some soft music on.

I quickly moved to comply, and as I moved towards the kitchen I could hear the girls conversing low tones. Marcie asked me questions for an hour, and I put down another drink--this one at a more sipping pace--and then the party started.


Tom, shower again, quickly.

I did so.

Now sit at my make up table.

Her make up table? What the?

This is foundation... you did a good job on the shave...see how it gets rid of blemishes and prepares the skin? Now, this is And they decorated me. They brushed and painted, tweaked and pulled, attached long, red nails, and slowly I began to transform.

My tan skin paled, my lips became full and plump, my eyebrows took on an arching quality, and my lids were brushed a light blue.

My heart, of course, was in full gallop.

Now, as for clothes. Julie and Marcie went to the bed and started undoing packages. I bought a few extra for me, but these should be his. Hers. You know what I mean.

They giggled like school girls.

Up, Tom, and present your chest.

I stood and turned, and the girls carefully glued a pair of breast forms on me. God, I was just sure that I was the Frankenstein of cross dressers.

Now, suck it in. They pulled a corset tight, and I heard the snick of a small padlock in the middle of my back. I could scarcely breath, but they didnt seem to mind.

His hips are just perfect!

Told you that corset would do the trick.

I was put into stockings.

Now, bend over. Dutifully, I did so. Julie fussed at my backdoor for a minute, then I drew in my breath.

What? What did you--

A tampon, silly.

They laughed at the expression on my face and just continued with their plot.

Bend those knees, thats right, up we go. They pulled a tube dress up my torso.

Now, sit here.

I sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, overly aware of the small intruder in my rear. The girls knelt down and they each pulled a high heel onto me. The heels were about three inches and thin, little stabbers. They laced the shoes up my ankles, and, again, little snicks as padlocks closed.

Now, the hair. They placed a wig on my head, adjusted the set of the thing, then stood back... I had a full look at myself in the mirror.

Oh... God... I was a girl!

Yes, my features were a trifle thicker, but they had shaded me with their powders, and... I was a girl!

A girl with a tampon in her butt.

And full curves and a bosom that wouldnt quit.

And a chastity belt.

A girl!

Nicely done! Marcie offered, as the two girls stood back.

A flash of light.

Hey! I protested.

Dont matter, said Julie, snapping another one. Nobody is going to recognize you as a girl.


Down the stairs I sashayed. Well, tripped is more like it. It took me a while, but I made it. Oddly, my ankles felt good. And my butt was uplifted and, well, warm. The tampon was doing something to me. I wondered if having a tampon brushing up against my prostate could make me cum.

A few minutes Julie and Marcie pranced down the stairs. They had dressed themselves in minutes, not an hour. And they had quick stepped down the stairs in seconds, not minutes.

Come on, they each took one of my arms and guided me towards the kitchen.

Where... where?

Girls night out, silly. You dont want all this gorgeous beautifiousness wasted, do you?

I would have struggled, but I was entering new states of shock. That, and the fact that without their arms steadying me, I would have fallen on my face. High heels are hard to walk in!

I sat in the back seat, and was pleased to find another tumbler full of coke and bourbon waiting for me.

The girls sat in the front seat and chatted, and it really was a girls night out. They included me in their conversing, and I felt... different.

And, I felt horny. I was so horny. What was odd was that I kept remembering what I looked like.

I was beautiful. I was a girl. And I was so horny I would have fucked myself, given half a chance.

We drove through town. It was eleven, and the night life was ebbing and flowing. Cars passed us, and I was aware of the constant flicker of headlights passing over me, illuminating me.

We passed a tavern, circled the green, and--

Oh, no!

Julie pulled over to the side of the road. We were at the far side of the village green. It was a long stretch of plants and walks with a large gazebo in the center.


The trunk!

I looked back, and sure enough, the trunk had popped open.

I thought I closed it, I muttered.

Apparently not, honey. Better close it quick. Thankfully, she didnt seem angry.

Dutifully, I climbed out of the back seat. My heels clicked on the pavement, and I wondered if anybody was looking at me. I placed my hand on the trunk and pushed down... and the car squirted away.

Wha! My lipsticked mouth opened in surprise.

Julie drove the Mercedes slowly down the street, and the girls extended their arms out the windows and waved. I heard Marcie call back to me. So long... sucker!

I stood there, a girl in a tight, black tube top, with long, dark, thick hair, and red lipstick. I had tampon up my butt, I was wearing a chastity tube, and it was a two mile walk through the night to my home.

The odd thing was... it felt so darned good.

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