Ascension            by: A Happy Wife

 

I guess I should have seen it coming, but love is blind, and I do love her. We have been married for 12 years. We were married ten years when it started. Kathleen had always been very sure of herself and very sure of what was best for the marriage and me. It was her second marriage, my first. She was six years older than me and made it clear from the beginning that I would have to work to keep her. I didn’t mind, she was the most wonderful woman I had ever met. She told me up front that she enjoyed sex and expected to be pleasured often and well and that if I wasn’t up to the task she knew of several men who could satisfy her in the manner she expected.

Kathleen had many men friends and made it clear that she wasn’t going to give them up just because she was married. She promised to remain faithful as long as I was able to keep her content sexually and emotionally. For the first few years it was easy. She had her dates with her "boys" but I was confident nothing was going on. From the start Kathleen let it be known that she expected oral sex, and expected to have at least two orgasms orally before I entered her. When I expressed a desire to receive oral sex she was cool to the idea. She reminded me that my job was to keep her happy if I still expected fidelity.

Kathleen had been firm with me about so called "men’s and women’s roles" in our relationship. What this meant to me is that I was expected to do most of the things a wife usually did, and she didn’t do much. Kathleen had her ideas about my clothing and insisted on me being dressed to her specifications and sometimes I wasn’t too happy with her choices. One time she bought me two pair of what she called Italian slacks. They may have been Italian but I suspected they were for Italian women. They had no back pockets, very narrow belt loops, a fake fly and hidden side zipper. They had no cuffs and were cut as though they would look best with a high heel. I didn’t like these pants and told her so. I said I have no way to carry my wallet or keys. The next day she brought home a "man’s hand bag" and I said no way. Things chilled around the house for us. That night I preformed cunilingus on her for an hour, I brought her to four climaxes when she was finished and I attempted to go into her she pushed me aside and said "not tonight".

The next day she brought home a pair of what she said were boots to go with my slacks. These boots were made by Naturalizer, who only makes women’s shoes. They had a two-inch stacked heel and were almost as shinny as patent leather. These were women’s shoes. I pretended not to notice and tried them on with my Italian slacks. The boots were a little tight so she loaned me some knee high stockings to wear, saying, "who will notice?" I noticed and felt like a fool in these girls boots, girls pants carrying this little purse that was supposed to be a "man’s bag". It may have been but I wasn’t the kind of man who carried a purse.

Sex got back on track, well almost back on track I was bringing her off nearly every night but not having intercourse that often. She had taken to masturbating me instead of letting me in her.

 

Then one night she stopped even that and had me do it myself while she watched. I was eating her every night, jacking myself off while she watched about three nights and she would jack me off maybe once a week. The other nights I got nothing, intercourse was maybe a monthly thing now.

She had bought me more pants and shoes. The pants she bought were even tighter in the fanny than the first ones were. The shoes were clearly women’s oxfords and loafers one pair had at least a two and a half inch heel and she even got me a pair of penny loafers in red. She wanted me to wear the red shoes with some faded denim jeans that had red stitching in the seams and the flowers on each back pocket. I refused and for that refusal I was denied even my masturbation rights for three weeks. When I caved in and accepted the "invitation" to "wear my pretty jeans and matching shoes" I was awarded masturbation with her soft hands. But she added "nicer underwear (panties) to my list of things I had to wear. She became upset with the hair on my feet showing through my knee-highs. She said, "since you insist on wearing women’s hose you will have to respect real women enough to shave your hairy legs". I tried to tell her that it was her idea to have me wearing the stockings she just said "whatever, shave anyway". I knew that I had best shave my legs if I ever hoped to get my masturbation fix from her.

She started buying me tee shirts. She called them European style tee shirts, but I thought they were women’s tops. They were all in pastels and rib knits they looked pretty feminine to me. She was going out about twice a week with "her guys" who ever it happened to be would pick her up at the house and I would be expected to answer the door, fix them a drink or offer refreshments. I always got a looking over by the guy of the day. She always managed to humiliate me a little in front of him before they left. She would do things like order me to kneel and dust off imaginary dust from her shoe, once I had to bend down and tie the shoe of one of her dates. While I was down there she said "look at his shoes, they look so much more manly than the little shoes you wear. And look how much larger his foot is than yours, you know what they say about a man’s foot size, don’t you?" One date brought over his laundry for me to wash and dry. When she got home with him and I presented him with his folded clothes she picked up a pair of his underpants and said to him "these are nothing like what the boy wears, his are all silky like ladies panties. Oh well if he enjoys them" and she just let it trail off. I was crimson with embarrassment. She was all but calling me a sissy and in front of the man she had just gone out with.

The day we went shopping just about ended the marriage, but I couldn’t stay mad and gave in to her. We were in the shoe section of a major department store. She was looking at a pair of navy blue pumps with a small open toe when the sales clerk walked up and said "may I help you?" My wife said, "My husband here needs navy pumps." Then she asked me what size are you in a woman’s shoe dear?" "About a 10, isn’t it?" The clerk chimes in with "Oh I am sure we can fit her, we carry a full size range". Many of our customers who crossdress find their sizes here" What the hell "her"" crossdressers". Who was this little twit talking about? Then she says "we carry this shoe in a black patent, would you like to see those?" My dear wife says "yes let’s see how she looks in the navy and these too". She picked up a low-heeled black pump. " For the office?" the clerk said with a smile. I was about to die when my wife turned to me and said, " you know dear, I may start sleeping with one of my boys". So I molded women’s shoes in the largest department store in town while my wife and a clerk young enough to be my daughter discussed my shoe wardrobe. It was almost worth the humiliation for the sex I was rewarded with.

The nice nice changed with the "outfit" the outfit consisted of a short black dress that would be worn with the low heeled black pumps I had tried on in the store. I would wear off black panty hose and a white tea apron, light makeup and a feminized hairstyle. She had decided it would look nice when her boyfriends were waiting for her. And it would make me "less masculine" and they would feel better about taking out my wife. She said, "they are sensitive to your feelings you know?" They know how humiliating it must be to a husband when a wife goes out with men." She didn’t even say "other" men, I was, I guess not a man anymore.

After the black dress was introduced into my life I knew that it would be only a matter of time until other dresses were added. My thoughts on this proved correct. With her perfect logic she decided that I would need bras and slips for my clothes to hang correctly. Knowing her as I did I knew that they would hang correctly or I would wait till hell froze over for my now much needed masturbation.

My disgusting habit as she called it was now under control. She had found a small thing she called a special gaff. It was a small triangle of smooth pink leather. My penis was pulled between my legs and my testicles were pushed up. A small pink leather strap went around my waist and hooked to the triangle, called a codpiece. A small pad lock kept it all together, she kept the key. She explained it all by saying "you will have a much nicer panty line, and it will keep you all ready and randy for me"; she said all this with a big smile on her face. Then she had me put on "a nice dress, we are having company" I was expected to serve.

Some months later I stood in line at the Motor Vehicle Department, my wife stood at my side smiling. I passed the paper work across the counter top to the smiling young woman. "There you go Ma’am. And congratulations on your new identity." "Well dear you have ascended to the ranks of womanhood, feel good?" I looked down blushing slightly at the red toenails peeking out from my black sandals. "Don’t worry honey this is the way I always pictured you"

 

A Happy Wife

 

 

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