Who Says?

by Jennifer White

 

Our home computer was acting funny, so I had to do some investigation. I started by looking at the log from the firewall, to see if there was any strange traffic going back and forth, and to see what programs might have been downloaded lately.

Oh yeah, I know, go ahead and say it. I hear it all the time. "You're a girl, you don't know what you're doing with all this technical stuff". I've been hearing that since highschool. But I always got A+ in my computer classes. And when I was in college, I was the one they complained about for "blowing the curve" because I got a 98 when the next highest score was 75. So there. Girls can be technical too!

So anyway, as I was saying, I was digging through the logs, trying to see what was going on with our home computer. I say 'our' because while I was the one who kept it running (and virus free), my husband Bob also used it. Not for work, but for surfing the internet, playing games, and stuff like that. It was *our* computer, but it fell on me to do the upkeep. Hmmm. Sort of like the house, where it was 'ours', but I had to do all the day to day work to keep in nice. But I digress. Off topic again!

So *anyway*, I started snooping around. And before too long, I found the problem. Bob had downloaded a plug-in for the web browser, and it was sending a lot of IP traffic back to the web site he downloaded it from. I disabled it, then uninstalled it. After rebooting, the system seemed to be back at normal speed.

I decided to keep looking, to see if he had been to any other web sites to download anything else that might effect the system. I was looking through the logs at the web sites he had gone to. Most of them were the usual ones I would expect. espn.com. weather.com. sportsnews.com. Stuff like that. But there was one web site I had never heard of before, called storysite.org. I wondered what that might be.

Bob liked to read books, so I figured it must be an online store. I decided that I'd do a little prying. I'd find what books he was browsing, and I'd surprise him by ordering one of them for his birthday, which was coming up. How surprised and happy he would be! I smiled as I pointed the web browser over to story site.

Well, imagine my shock when I found out what the site *really* was! It contained story after story about men who are turned into women. I had no idea that such a thing existed! And I had no idea that this was something that would interest Bob. I decided to read some of the stories that he had looked at. I followed the links he had previously clicked on, and read half a dozen of the stories.

Some were funny, some were scary, and some were actually exciting. It seemed that he favored stories where the woman takes over the man's life, and starts to turn *him* into a woman. I thought that some of the stories were very unrealistic. The wife would say to do something, and the man would just cave in. If he really didn't like wearing a dress, he wouldn't just say yes! Or in one story, the woman came home from work, and with no explanation, she decides to femme her husband. Again, I just didn't buy it. But even in the worst of the stories I read, there were fun things, and some good points. In a way, I kind of liked all of them!

 

But as I was shutting down the computer, I kind of took a step back, and though about things. Bob was reading these stories, and I was able to determine that this wasn't his first time going to storysite.org. The firewall log showed that he went there almost daily. And as I considered this, I felt really hurt. Obviously, this was a real turn-on for him, or he wouldn't be doing it so often. Yet, he had kept it from me, never mentioning to me that he wanted something like that! I felt really hurt from being excluded like that. How could he not tell me about something so important to him?

But now a thought came into in my mind. I started to see a pattern emerge, which I hadn't noticed before. I had lacked the critical piece of information to reach this conclusion. But now I had it. And now I could see what was going on. All my technical training as an analyst helped me put the pieces together.

Here's how it all fit together now: I had thought it was *so* wonderful that Bob would go shopping with me. Most husbands grumbled and complained, but even if I was buying clothes for myself (or even shoes), he'd sit there patiently with me, and help me decide. He didn't act like most men in that way.

Also, he was a good talker. He knew how to *listen*, and not just ignore me, like most of my friend's husbands did to them. And he wasn't the type to solve conflicts with macho posturing or the threat of violence, as some of my girlfriend's husbands did. He was gentle. He liked pets. He liked children. Even in bed, he was very good, always going slow, and taking care of *my* needs.

It all added up. Although he was male, in a man's body, inside, part of him was feminine. Although he acted like a man, he had a strong feminine streak. I had just never put all these pieces together. So for example, he must have liked to shop with me, because he must have been fantasizing about wearing clothes like that. I saw him in a whole new light.

 

My first impression was one of anger at him for not telling me about his true self. But now, I realized that he must have been scared to lose me, and that he kept it hidden out of fear, not malice. I knew now that it was a part of him, and it must have pained him to keep it hidden from me. We were so close otherwise, I knew he must have been keeping this from me out of fear of discovery.

I decided right then and there, that because I felt such a deep love for my husband, and since I would do anything make him and keep him happy, I would do something unexpected for him, and explore this side of his personality. I wanted to make him happy. So I would help him become a woman.

But after reading those stories, I knew that I didn't want to do the direct approach, like the stories where a wife uses force or blackmail to 'convert' her man. I wasn't like that, and it did not seem to be a very loving approach. No, I decided that I wanted to do something a lot more subtle. I didn't want him to even notice what I was doing. I would start with little things, that would seem unrelated to him. It would only be after I had pulled him in deep, that he would realize what was going on. It had to be a slow process, gentle and very gradual.

 

* * *

 

That night, as we laid in bed after making love (as we did three our four nights a week), I was running my hands over his chest.

"You know" I said, "I think your chest would be *really* sexy if you shaved off all this hair. You know, like a bodybuilder, or a swimmer. Why hide your flat tummy behind all that fur? Would you shave it for me? That would be *such* a turn-on for me."

"Sure Linda" he replied. "I'll do it tomorrow."

"I love you" I said, kissing his chest.

As he dozed off, I smiled. He didn't even realize it, but I had just started him down the path towards feminization. He would do as I asked, thinking it was to turn me on. But in reality, I was doing this for *him*. He just didn't realize what I was doing yet!

 

I made sure the next night to make a big deal over his now smooth chest. I wanted to wait a while now before doing something else, so he wouldn't catch on to what was happening to him. I simply reminded him that he'd need to keep it smooth like that for me. Of course, he was happy to do it.

 

* * *

 

About ten days later, Bob was due for a haircut. He had his hair cut about once every month, always on a Saturday. If he was to be 'turned', he would need much longer hair. So when he told me that he was going to the barber shop, I had to put a stop to it.

"You can't go now" I said. "We need to go and buy a gift for Jenny's baby shower. Remember, you promised you'd go help me pick something out."

"We could go when I get back. I'll just be an hour."

"But we have plans with Jackie and Craig this afternoon. You'll have to cancel your appointment."

"I guess I could always go next weekend" he said.

"I don't know" I replied. "I happen to think your hair would look nice if you grew it out a little more. You've been wearing it in that style for years. Why not try something a little more in step with the times? Look at all the cute tennis players who keep their hair long."

"I guess I could do that" he replied. We played tennis and followed the game, so he knew about all the guys on tour I was talking about, who had long locks of hair on their heads.

 

There. No more haircuts, for now at least. I was going to make him grow it out quite long before I was done with him! But he didn't suspect anything yet. Perfect. Just according to plan.

 

The next thing I did was to buy him a new shirt for work. It was one of his normal button-down dress shirts. But instead of his regular boring blue, gray or white, I got him one in a pink color.

"That's awful bright" he said. "A pink shirt?"

"The color is *coral*, not pink dear" I said.

Well, it really was pink, but I didn't want him to know that! Coral sounded much less threatening. And so he shrugged his shoulders, and put it in his closet. I took away a couple of his boring color shirts, and the 'coral' one went into his regular rotation. I wasn't ready to put him into a blouse yet, but going to a more girlish color was a good start.

I regularly came home with new clothes for him, so over the next few weeks, I added a 'salmon' colored shirt for him, one in pale yellow, and one that was powder blue. He needed to get used to wearing colors like these, if I was to move him to women's clothes eventually. But again, the introduction was so gradual, that he didn't catch on.

 

"You know Bob" I said at dinner the next night, "I want to go on a new diet. We've got Nancy's wedding coming up in 2 months, and I want to fit into my old black dress. I need to lose ten pounds."

"You look great in that dress" he said, agreeing with me.

"But I need your help" I continued. "When I go on a diet, but you're still having foods around here like chips and salsa, I get cravings, and I go off my diet. Would you consider going on the diet with me? I'm not saying you're chubby or anything, but you *could* stand to lose a few pounds here and there."

"I guess so" he agreed. "Okay, I'll give it a try."

"I love you" I said, leaning forward to kiss him.

 

Now I had great leeway to get him to start eating differently. I rid the house of beer, pretzels and pizza. You know, all the 'manly' stuff he liked to eat. Now we ate fruits, salads, yogurt, and healthy things. I replaced the milk in the fridge with soy milk. I wanted him to have a lot of soy!

I had gone online and read about the effects of herbal products. Things like soy and black cohosh contain compounds that act pretty much like estrogen on the body. If I could introduce enough of these into his diet, I could get his skin to soften up for example. You couldn't turn a man into a woman with this stuff, but you could get a few of the secondary sex characteristics to show up.

I bought women's multivitamins, then dumped them into a regular multivitamin jar. I bought a black cohosh supplement, and put them into a jar labeled vitamin C. I bought more borage oil, to help strengthen nails. He would have long fingernails eventually, so they needed more strength so they didn't split like they did now. That was how I sold him on the borage oil: I told him his nails would stop splitting.

So now he was eating like a woman with me, and taking plenty of women's vitamins and supplements. Not enough to really change him physically, but every little bit helped!

 

And speaking of nails, I did one my little sly subtle thing to him. As I lay in bed, he was scratching my back. Wearing a bra all day often made my back itchy, and he was always kind enough to scratch me.

"You know" I said, "your nails are so short that I only get a little bit of itching from you sometimes. It's more like a rubbing from your fingertips. Would you consider growing your nails out a little longer for me?"

"You know how the split if I do" he said.

"But you're taking that borage oil now. Why don't you wait a few weeks to let it start to take effect, then think about keeping your fingernails a bit longer?"

"All right" he agreed. "That sounds reasonable."

Ha! I had him. One more step he was taking, without even knowing it!

 

* * *

 

I was going out to storysite.org regularly now, snooping to see which stories Bob was reading. I wanted to understand better what kind of scenarios he liked the best, and what really turned him on. I wouldn't be able to do anything about magical transformations by witches, because this was real life. But I did pick up on a lot of good ideas.

One of those ideas was how we women interact differently socially then men do. Also, we as women act differently when we are among ourselves, as opposed to when we're with guys. So the next part of my plan was to get Bob past this hurdle of the development of his feminine side.

I started inviting over several of my girlfriends, making sure that they would come without their husbands or boyfriends. It would be just us girls (plus Bob). The first time I set this up, it was clear that the girls treated him with a bit of suspicion, as they would with any man. But I knew that in time they'd come to accept him as "one of us". This would take time and patience.

At first, it was just them coming over to visit us, or us going over to visit them. Sometimes it was all the girls, sometimes it was just one or two of them. On rare occasions, one of my girlfriends would have her Significant Other with her, but I tried to keep this to a minimum. And with time, as I suspected, they started to act around Bob as they would if it was just all us girls. He was learning how to interact with 'other' women. Perfect!

 

* * *

 

There were so many things to try, and to do, I couldn't begin to list them all. I would make small suggestions, and hope that they took. Here's a good example. With all of the husbands and wives you know, how often is it the guy who remembers all the birthdays, buys the cards, and sends them all out? Its always the wife, isn't it!

So I decided that although it was a small thing, I wanted Bob to be the one who started to perform this role for us. I got him to buy a calendar one rainy day, then gather write down everybody's birthday. That include his family, my family, his friends, my friends, and *our* friends. Oh, plus his boss from work, and a few others like that. Of course, we didn't have all of the dates, so he had to get on the phone and make call after call. Just like a girl, always chatting on the phone!

Or another little thing I did was with our shopping. Now ladies, tell me, when you go out to buy something for a niece, or for a friend's shower or wedding, what value does your husband bring, other than having a credit card in his wallet? You ask them "what do you think of this vase?", and his thoughts are "say yes, so we can get out of here". I didn't want Bob to be like that, so I started forcing him to become highly involved in the decision making process for selecting things when we went shopping.

Now he would always be glad to tag along with me, but now I was pushing him to be even more involved. Instead of picking out a vase, then asking him what I thought I might say "I think we should get a vase, don't you? Which one looks the nicest?"

Now he was forced to pick one. Of course, if he went with something horrid, I'd gently correct him and lead him until he picked the right one. So in the end, he felt like he was picking out the gift for the shower. I hoped that in time, I'd even be able to trust him enough with the task, that I could just send him off, then sit home, drink hot chocolate, and watch The Bachelor. Well, maybe that was wishful thinking.

I did a few little things too, like the day he was running out of cartridges for his razor. I went to the store and bought a jumbo sized package of the cute little pink shavers I used. I told him "What's the difference? They have blades, you shave with them. So what if they're pink?"

He just shrugged his shoulders, and started using them. It was funny to see him shaving his face in the morning using a pink shaver. And we each had our own little pink shaver hanging from the wire rack in the shower. How cute. He was being good about keeping his chest shaved, because if he let it go, the stubble was itchy for him. Great. I didn't have to nag him about it. One less thing to worry about!

 

A few nights later, we went to the bathroom to brush out teeth. When we were done, I started to put on my night cream on my face. Any woman in her thirties will tell you that it is terrifying to think of yourself with wrinkles! And I didn't want to find out how *I* looked with a wrinkly face. So hello night cream!

Anyway, this night, when Bob was done flossing, I told him to hold still.

"What are you doing?" he said, as I put some of my night cream on him, on the outside corners of his eyes.

"You're starting to get a few lines on your face" I said. "Do you want to look all wrinkled?"

"I guess not" he said.

"Then you should start using this every night, like I do. Let me show you how to put it on."

I demonstrated for him, and really emphasized what good it would do for him.

"Look how quickly its absorbing in" I said. "Your skin is really dry and thirsty. You really need to do this every single night."

 

So now I had him using my night cream on a daily (or nightly!) basis. And from there, it was easy to get him to give up his harsh deodorant soap, and to start using my moisturize bar in the shower. I also had him start washing his face with my exfoliating skin care bar.

By this point, there had been a lot of subtle changes in his life, but he still had no inkling of what I was doing to him! But I knew the time was getting close when he would start to notice things. So I might have to do something more overt in the near future. But up to this point, it had been smooth sailing.

 

"I don't like having my nails longer like this" he complained to me one day, the first 'pushback' he had given me for any of the new things I had been asking him to do. I had to think of something fast.

"Why not?" I asked, innocently.

"They want to chip on the ends, and this one split."

"Give the borage oil more time. You've only been taking it for a few weeks. The new nails you grow out will be stronger."

"How about I cut them short until then?" he said.

"I have a better idea. Let me show you what I do to give mine more strength."

I had him sit with me at the kitchen table. Then I took out my jar of clearcoat finish that I wore on top of my nailpolish.

"What's that?" said Bob.

"Just a clear coat" I said. "It will give your nails more strength. You'll like it."

"It sure smells" he said.

"That's because it has some quick drying stuff in it. Just hold your hand still, and it will dry right away. Then your nails will be protected, and they'll be a lot stronger."

He sat there, holding his hands, as the clearcoat dried.

"Um, Linda?" he said.

"Yes dear?"

"I think it's dry, but..."

"But what?"

"But it looks so shiny. Its weird to see my hands with shiny nails."

"Don't worry dear, you'll forget about it in no time."

 

As part of our diet routine, we started out by taking long walks every day for exercise. Now we moved to jogging, as our overall fitness improved. I went shopping, and bought two new pairs of shorts for him. One was pink, and the other was powder blue. They were both soft and fuzzy. I had bought them in the women's department.

Out of pride, I still shopped in the junior's department, even though it was getting harder to find things that weren't too tight on me, as my body matured and filled out (those darn hips!). So it was an adventure for me to shop in the women's department. For those of you not in the know, "women's department" is the code name for larger sizes. And how cruel: not only were the sizes larger, but they styles were definitely lacking! I wouldn't be caught dead in most of the outfits I found there. I had to get Bob to lose weight, if I was ever to dress him up.

But then I had an idea: since the styles were very shapeless, unflattering and unfeminine, a man wouldn't really notice that it was a style for a woman (as long as I didn't pick out some label that was obviously for a girl, like 'Casual Woman'). I might be able to buy a few things here, and slip them into his wardrobe without him really noticing. Only *I* would know he was wearing a woman's outfit. So I picked out a few goodies for him.

 

But I digress. Back to the jogging shorts. Pink or powder blue, and fuzzy. I took them home, and laid them out on the bed.

"Come on honey, put on your new shorts, and we can go jogging."

"I don't know about those pink ones" he said. "They're kind of....."

"Then wear the blue ones. Those were the last two pairs in your size. I'll return the pink ones if you don't like them. I just thought they'd be a good match for your salmon tank top."

"I'll go with the blue" he said.

Now you might think that this was a setback, but it was exactly my plan. If I had given him really girlie looking powder blue shorts with white trim, he never would have put them on to go out in public. But when it was a choice of them, or the pink ones, suddenly powder blue didn't seem so bad.

And so we went out jogging, and he was wearing baby blue women's shorts. And he didn't even notice, or protest! How cool is that?

 

Now speaking of clothes, there's something I forgot to mention so far. Another little thing that had slipped past me before, but now it made sense. Every now and then, I'd find an item of my clothes in the wrong place in the closet. I wouldn't put my red skirt next to the gray one, it went on the end. In the past, I chalked it up to me being in a hurry, and just putting it away wrong. But now there was mounting evidence: Bob was wearing my clothes when I was gone, and he had put it back incorrectly.

When I had a run in my nylons, I had been upset. They were almost new. How could they have had a run? Now I knew: he did it. Or when I tried on a top that had been too tight, and now it was loose, at first I was self-congratulatory about all the weight I had lost (even though the scale said I was about the same). But now it made sense: he had stretched it out.

When my bra drawer seemed out of order, or one of my T-shirts was wrinkled when I removed it from the drawer, now I knew why. Bob had been wearing it, and didn't fold it properly when he snuck it back into place. There was no doubt about it now: I *knew* that he was into my clothes. I suspected he had been toying with my makeup too, but I wasn't as sure of that. Yet.

But I looked at this as a good thing for my plan. You see, one of the scenarios that Bob seemed to like the most from his adventures at storysite.org, was when the man was "caught with the consequences". I was pondering how I could set him up, so I could catch him dressing in my things.

 

Lets see. Another little thing I did was in his footwear. We played tennis weekly, at the courts out in the park. When his tennis shoes were going, I bought him a new pair. Actually, I bought two pair: one for myself, and one for him. They were red with white trim. The red was kind of sparkly, if you saw it in the right light. It didn't take too much pressure to get him to wear them: "Won't we be a cute couple, having matching tennies on?".

And then there were the socks. He wore these knee length athletic socks most of the time. I started buying him short ones. But instead of men's ankle length socks, I bought *women's*. So now he was wearing socks made for a woman's foot, and his matching red and white tennis shoes. Yet one more little step for him (if you'll excuse the pun).

 

* * *

 

I was wondering how I could get Bob to shave his legs, without him thinking it was because I was feminizing him. I pondered the problem long and hard, and there didn't seem to be a good way to do it. I was just about to give up hope, when a fortuitous event occurred: I got my new issue of Tennis Magazine. I explained before how we both played tennis together, so one of the periodicals I subscribed to was Tennis.

Well this issue had an article on it, as they did every month, on what some of the players do to train, keep fit, and prepare for matches. It turns out that a lot of the men these days have been shaving their legs and arms! Like Andre Agassi, the trend has been towards keeping less body hair, which was supposed to improve aerodynamics. One player said he felt cleaner when he was sweating, without the hair. Another said that when he got his post-match massage, not having any hair made it better for him.

My problem was solved! All I had to do now was to make sure that Bob read the magazine (which he always did every month), then talk to him about the article. It didn't take much arm twisting on my part to get him to agree to give it a try.

Now here's the funny part: because he had the fantasy of being turned into a woman, shaving his legs was something he *wanted* to do. So for him, this was perfect. It was an excuse for him to get away with something he had been longing to do. He thought he was pulling one over on me, by being able to shave his legs with my knowledge and consent. The funny part, was that while he thought he was beating the system and making out like a bandit, in reality, it was *I* who was manipulating him. He didn't even realize what I was doing! All he thought about was how wonderful it would feel to be in my clothes next time he dressed up. The fact that I was feminizing him still hadn't registered!

"Oh honey, you should shave your armpits too!" I called out, as he headed towards the shower. "You look like an ape with all that hair up in there! As long as you're at it...."

"Sure" he replied. "No problem."

I could hear the glee in his voice. He probably was going to do that anyway. But now, he had an excuse, because it had been *my* idea. I was having so much fun now. He was so easy to manipulate.

 

* * *

 

Okay, time to take inventory. I had Bob without body hair, growing his hair and his nails longer, wearing clear-coat nail polish, using my soaps, creams and lotions, taking women's vitamins and supplements, unknowingly wearing women's clothes, as well as learning to socially interact as a woman.

I thought and thought about it, and I realized that I had taken things as far as I possibly could without revealing my hand. I mean, how could I get him into a bra or a skirt for example without him knowing he was being feminized? Or how could I get him into makeup, pluck his eyebrows, or anything like that?

No, I had hit a wall. There was no way forward now, except by being more direct. As I read yet another story with the theme of 'caught with the consequences', I decided I would proceed along those lines. I was going to set a trap for Bob, and he would walk right into it.

First, I went out shopping. I bought a set of very sexy, silky lingerie. They were pink, with white lace trim. The straps going over the shoulder were white, and the lacy design over the chest made it look almost like you had a bra on, on the outside. But they were oh so soft, and wonderful feeling on your skin.

Next, I went to the computer store, and bought some cameras. They attached to the PC via a wireless connection. It was a snap for me to set them up, and get a live feed from them. Next, I configured the software to capture still images from the live video. I configured a rotating log, so that it would keep the last 12 hours worth of material. I could sort through it at my leisure, and see if anything interesting got captured.

The cameras were positioned around our bedroom, hidden 'in plain sight'. One was on a shelf, filled with so many little knick-knacs, that you'd never notice it. Another was on my dresser, amid all the bottles of perfume and things. Another was up in the light fixture. Places you'd never look, or never see. They would get all sorts of angles in the bedroom, and if Bob was in fact going to dress up, I'd get him for sure.

"I'm going to the baby shower with Cindy" I told him.

A perfect excuse. If it was lunch with the girls, he'd expect to be invited. But this was a woman-only event, and he knew it. I drove off, but I really just circled around the block. I parked in the alley, and I snuck into the garage. Back in the garage, I had my old computer, which was on the same wireless network as the others (of course with security enabled, and 64-bit data encryption, so nobody could spy on my network traffic or hack in).

So he thought I was at the shower. In reality, I was out back, watching the bedroom to see what he would do. The trap was set. Now it was up to him.

 

After waiting half an hour, my patience was rewarded as I saw Bob go into the bedroom. He touched the sexy lingerie, he held it up to himself, then he started undressing.

First he put on a pair of my panties and one of my bras (which he stuffed full with balled up T-shirts). He put on the lingerie and modeled it for himself in the mirror. He put on some of my lipstick next, and mascara. Then he sat down, and tried to cross his legs like a girl.

As he started to dig through my jewelry box, I decided it was time to make my move. I had left the back doorwall unlocked, so I was able to silently slide open the screen door, and walk in. I kicked my shoes off, and took slow careful steps, so I couldn't be heard. I made sure to walk on the far left side of the stairs, so they didn't squeak as I climbed up them.

I got to our bedroom, and the door was shut. I took a deep breath, and carefully turned the handle. I had tested the door out earlier, to make sure it didn't squeak. So now I carefully opened it and looked through the crack. Bob was putting on one of my necklaces, and looking at himself in the mirror.

Suddenly I jumped out, and Bob screamed as he turned to me, in complete horror and shock. He had been caught dressing up. Now it was time to pay the consequences.

"Hello Crissy" I said.

"This isn't what it looks like" he stammered.

"It looks like you're dressing up as a woman" I replied. "If that isn't it, then what am I seeing?"

He hemmed and hawed, but couldn't think up a good excuse. I had him, and he knew it.

"Be quiet" I said sternly. "I can see what is going on. Don't lie to me. You want to be a woman, don't you?"

"No, that's not it" he said. "You just don't understand."

"I'm not going to stand here, and let you lie to me" I said, sounding very disappointed. "Your only hope is to tell me the truth. Now we can do it two ways. You can lie to me, in which case you'll lose me forever. Or you can tell me the truth, and I'll consider staying with you. Now tell me again, why are you dressing up?"

"Because I want to be girl" he said.

There. He had admitted his lifelong dream. Well, presumably lifelong. I didn't imagine it was the type of thing you just picked up one day out of the blue!

"There" I said. "Telling me the truth wasn't so hard, was it?"

"No" he said, his head bowed down in shame.

"You realize that you belong to me now" I said. "I've got hidden cameras in the room. Look up there on the shelf. And look next to the bottle of perfume on the dresser. You see that black thing? You're on camera. I'm saving these images."

"Oh no!" he said.

"So you *do* realize that I own you now" I said. "You are mine, and you will fully submit to my control. Show me that you're mine, but getting down on your knees."

He kneeled down. Just like that! I had him already. I couldn't believe it was going so smoothly. But then again, he really *wanted* this. So it was important for me to exert my control now, and make him think that I had been plotting this all along. If he knew I was doing it to make him happy, that would ruin it. He had to think this was for real.

"I'm very glad that you want to be a woman" I said.

"Really?" he replied.

"Yes. You see, I decided months ago that you were hardly a man. When I looked at you, I didn't see even one little bit of manliness there. So I decided that you would be better off if you were a *woman*. You haven't even realized it, but over the past few months, bit by bit, I have been turning you into a girl."

"What?" he said, stunned.

"Oh yes. Think about it my love" I said. "Just look at yourself. You have such lovely soft skin from all my creams and lotions you've been using. You don't have body hair anymore. I've had you shaving your legs, in anticipation of this moment. Just think of all the little things you're doing now, like growing your hair long, growing your nails, and taking *women's* vitamins. Oh yes, I put them in the wrong jar, so you'd be getting proper nutrition for a *woman*."

He looked up at me, stunned. I smiled. It was starting to sink in, all of the little things I had been doing to him, and how it all added up. Only now did he realize that I had been feminizing him for months.

"Did you realize," I continued, "that many of your new shirts you've been wearing, I bought in the women's department? You're *already* dressing up as a woman at work. You just haven't realized it yet. Even your new jogging shorts came from the women's department. I've been dressing you like a girl for a month, and you didn't even know it."

Looking down, he was so hard now, that this must have been the ultimate turn-on for him. Everything was working perfectly, so I kept going.

"You're not a man to me at all. Just look at you dressed like that. You really are a woman. I'll never be able to think of you as a man again. From now on, I'm going to call you Crissy. Isn't that a pretty name? I picked it out for you, because it is so soft and feminine, like you are going to become."

"Crissy" he said.

"And now Crissy, you are ready for the next stage of your transition."

"Transition?" he asked.

"Yes" I replied. "Your transition to womanhood."

 

I went to the closet, where I had some goodies hidden for him. Namely: realistic looking breast forms. They were D cups, nice and large, with a hard nipple on the end.

"Take out those shirts from your bra" I said. "They look lumpy, and you're getting them all wrinkled. From now on, you're wearing these. If you're going to pass as a woman, your chest needs to look natural and real."

Bob took off the lingerie, and pulled the shirts out of his bra. He then put in the breast forms, and it was so weird to look down at his chest, and see boobs! They were bigger than what he had been stuffing bra, and I hoped they were intimidating enough for him.

I dressed him up in a half-slip, a pink skirt and a shimmery pink top. And I put him into heels for the first time, after he pulled on thigh high nylons.

"Now sit down, so I can put on your makeup" I said. "Pay attention to what I do, because you will be doing this yourself from now on. *Every* day."

I did his face up, perhaps more than looked good, but it was the first time, and I wanted him to have very heavy makeup on. He was already wearing a necklace and bracelet of mine. My rings were too small to fit over his knuckles, and his ears weren't pierced. So I had also prepared by buying some clip-ons, and a couple of rings in a size large enough for him to wear. He kind of freaked out seeing himself with dangling earrings, and a fully made up face.

"We'll have to pluck your eyebrows and give you your bikini wax when we go to the spa one day soon" I told him, giving him something scary to contemplate: going out dressed up, and having someone other than me do things to him to continue his feminization. I could tell he didn't like that idea at all!

I now had him paint his own nails in a cherry red color. Two coats, then a topcoat. His hair wasn't long enough yet to do much with, but I did my best using my curling iron, hairspray, and a barrette.

 

"There Crissy, now you're complete" I said. "I've been transitioning your for quite some time. And now you're ready to begin your new life."

"My new life?" he said.

"Yes. Your new life, full time, as a woman. I'm not just dressing you up. I'm making a permanent change."

At once, he was both overjoyed and frightened. Part of him was loving what I was doing, but I could sense he wasn't too sure about the 'permanent' part, and 'full time'. That scared him, to think of going around like that in public!

Now I started telling him about some of the other things I had been doing to him, without him knowing it.

"You've been taking herbal estrogen supplements," I said, " so that your skin will get nice and soft. Maybe if I increase your dosage, you real boobs will start growing out, so you won't need those breast forms anymore."

Oh that was a good one! I knew it wasn't true, but he didn't seem to! He kind of looked freaked out again at that line! But now it was time to tell him about my plan for the night.

 

"Crissy, you know how I've been having my girlfriends come over here, or how we go to visit them? Have you noticed how there's never a man around? That's because I've been getting you used to interacting with other women. When you're with them, they've been treating you as if you were one of the girls. Tonight, they are coming over to visit us. And tonight, you will introduce your new self to them."

"But they'll all see me like this!" he said.

"That's the point, darling" I replied. "You're one of *us* now. The girls are coming over, and we're going to have fun tonight. After dinner, we're going out dancing. And since you're one of us, you'll go out with us too."

 

At 7:30, the girls arrived. Terri, who was a knockout blonde, came wearing a little black dress. She rode with Veronica, who load long flowing jet black hair. She was really striking looking in her black leather miniskirt and tiny little cami top. Last to arrive was Amy, a redhead in a red dress. All three were dressed to kill. As for me, I wasn't nearly as much of a hottie as my friends were. At least in my opinion. I was too pudgy in the thighs, I didn't have the perfect hair and skin like they did, nor the perfect tan that Terri seemed to sport year round.

So I didn't wear something quite as sexy as they did, but it was a cool outfit. It was a sheath dress, black with sequins sewn in. I know, you're thinking 'prom dress', but it wasn't anything quite that formal. It was a fun outfit, and perfect for going out dancing. Sexy enough, but not overly flashy. It went well with the heels I had picked out. I was proud of my outfit. Until I saw my friends, and how they would all outshine me. As usual.

 

Oops, there I go again, getting away from the subject. So anyway, they all arrived at around the same time, 7:30. I had white wine chilling in the fridge, so I poured us all glasses. There was one more glass which I filled. They looked at me funny. Four girls, but five glasses of wine.

"Who else did you invite?" said Terri.

This was 'our' time together, and she wasn't in the mood for a stranger to barge in.

"I invited Crissy" I said.

"Who's Crissy?" they asked.

"You know her" I said.

I went to the stairs, and yelled: "They're here!!!!"

Now I returned to the girls, who were still wondering who Crissy was, and why she was upstairs.

"She'll be here in a moment. Please, treat her like she's an old friend."

"But who *is* she?" insisted Veronica.

I looked at them, and put my finger over my lips.

"She used to be Bob" I said.

They all gave me 'the look'. Deer in the headlights. Of course, with their natural good looks, and wide open 'doe' eyes, I guess it didn't take much to give them that appearance! They all fell silent, as Bob came down the stairs in heels. From the way he walked, you could tell he had worn heels before, but not enough to be graceful.

"Oh Crissy, I'm glad you're here" I said. "You remember my friends?"

"Hi" said Bob, clearly embarrassed to be in front of others, dressed as a girl. I looked at Amy, and nudged her with my elbow. I mouthed the words "be nice" to her silently.

"Hello Crissy, you look beautiful tonight" she said, somewhat awkwardly.

"That's a lovely outfit you have on" said Terri, getting into the spirit.

"Thanks, I like yours too" replied Bob, trying to make his voice sound like a girl's.

"Why don't you come sit down with us, and have a glass of wine?" I said.

"You know the good thing about drinking wine with you girls?" said Veronica.

"No, what?" I said.

"It's easy to tell which glass is yours, because of the color of lipstick on it!"

We all laughed and giggled. Even Bob tried to giggle, but it sounded really funny, which set us off even more. He smiled helplessly, unsure of what to do.

You see, I would say that somehow when I was my friends, we communicated so well that a lot of what went back and forth between us wasn't even verbal. With just a look, we knew what the others were thinking. Bob was totally lost with us sometimes like this, because he didn't pick up on these nonverbal things. I didn't know if there would ever be a cure for that or not. I *would* be cool if I could communicate with him, like I do with my girlfriends. I guess that was always in the back of my mind, as I started doing this all to him.

 

Anyway, we drank our wine, we snacked on crackers and the dip I had made, along with veggies. Then we had a light dinner, more wine, and lots of good conversation. I kept a careful eye on 'Crissy', who bit by bit was starting to get more comfortable around the girls. His posture was still all wrong, and he was so stiff! He never quite loosened up around them.

I knew it must be terrifying for him to be dressing up in front of someone for the first time. And now he had the threat hanging over his head that we were all going to go out dancing at a club. But he didn't know these girls like I did. You put us together in a room, give us wine, and we start talking. And talking. And talking. And suddenly, you feel tired from all the wine, its way later than you would have thought, and everyone wants to just chill out and watch a movie, instead of going out to some loud smoky club. When we were in our 20's, we might have still had the energy to go out. But not in our thirties! Now we were fuddy-duddies.

So as I had guessed, the trip to the club never happened. And it was a weeknight. Maybe on a weekend we would have gone the extra mile. Not tonight. Bob had been sweating all night, afraid that every change in topic would lead to a change in venue. Then he'd be dressed in his cute pink outfit, in front of strangers, both men and women. But (thankfully for him), that never happened.

So when it was almost midnight, the girls all said good-bye, and left. I started to clean up, and told 'Crissy' that 'she' should help me. We vacuumed, we wiped up, we put stuff back in the fridge, we did dishes, and all the little things you need to tidy up after a little get-together.

 

Back up in the bedroom, after we undressed, I made Bob put on a nightie. We took off our makeup together, and I thought it was rather cute. We got into bed, and he was still really aroused. We hugged and kissed for a while, touching each other all over. It felt strange yet exciting for his skin to all be smooth and hairless! He was really ready, and he wanted me.

"Now that you're a girl," I said, "you need to make love to me like a girl. Now get down there and lick me."

I laid on my back, and spread my legs wide open. He moved into position, and started to do me with his tongue. He only went down on me now and then, but I really loved it. It was awesome! I came twice. Now it was his turn.

I had him lie on his back, and I started to lick him. I told him how pretty he was, and how lucky I was to have a woman like 'her'. When he was throbbing and ready to blow, I put my lips around him, and finished him off. After I swallowed, I looked up to him and smiled.

"Oh baby, your pussy is so wet and so sweet" I said.

His eyes were closed, and he was still reeling from the jolt of the orgasm. His tension had been building up all day, ever since he had dressed up. So now his release must have been really something, after all that waiting!

 

* * *

 

The next morning, after we showered together, it was time for him to get dressed up for work. I pulled out one of the shirts he had been wearing, and I pointed out to him that it really was a shirt made for a woman. But he had been wearing it to work for weeks.

"Now that you're a girl" I said, "you need to wear your bra and panties underneath your work clothes. Just so you'll always be reminded of who you really are now."

I watched him go off to work, with that same uncertainty in his eyes. It must have been both a trill for him, and something scary, to be wearing a bra in public (and panties), even if they were kept safely out of sight.

 

When he got home from work, I had a pretty outfit with a skirt all picked out for him, and I told him to change into it. I showed him a printout of his dressing up from the previous day, to remind him that he was in my power now, and that I had something over him. He showed no resistance, and dressed up right away.

"Look in the closet" I said.

He opened the door, and his eyes got wide.

"I threw out a lot of your male clothes. I gave them away to the poor. Look at all the pretty things I've been buying for you! I've been hiding them, but now that you're a woman, you can proudly display them in your closet. Before long, you won't have a single item of male clothes left. Everything will be women's clothes."

Oh the look on his face! It was just so precious and dear.

 

* * *

 

On Saturday, I decided to have more fun with him. He read a lot of stories where the man is turned into a maid, or a French maid. So I bought a sexy French maid costume, and told him to dress in it.

"You will clean this house from top to bottom, while I catch up on my computer work. Check in on me now and then, to see if there is something you can do to serve me."

"Yes Ms. Styles" he said, as I had instructed him.

 

I did my usual tasks, surfing the net, reading the latest tech bulletins to keep up to date. I had one window open of the web browser, pointed at his favorite, storysite.org. When I heard him approaching, I put that window in the front, so that he wouldn't be able to help but notice.

"This is a very interesting site you like to visit so much" I said. "These stories are wonderful! I'm getting a lot of great ideas about what I should do with you next."

He had this *gasp* on his face, like he just could not believe that I had found his favorite web site. I looked at him and smiled.

"Crawl under my desk, and go down on me" I ordered. "I'm not wearing any panties, so you can just lift up my skirt and get to it. It gives me pleasure to turn you into a woman. Now you'll give me pleasure, as I read the story"

I kept reading while he went down on me. Now *that* was a pleasurable thing! I read the story aloud to him, and it was one where the woman makes the man date another man. I hoped that this one was so far beyond what he wanted, that it would start to scare him. I certainly didn't want to lose him, or have him become a real woman. I just wanted to explore some more, because I was having so much fun.

 

* * *

 

Now before I tell you about the next day, we need to take a little 'timeout'. Can we talk just amongst us girls? I need for you to understand why I did the next thing, because if I just tell you what I did, it could sound pretty cruel, and I'm not a cruel person.

Looking back, I guess at this point, the power I had over Bob was going to my head a bit, and I could easily have let myself get carried away too far. Also, after reading so many stories online, I read some really *extreme* scenarios. So what I did next might seem bad to someone 'new' to this scene, but after reading all that I did, my idea seemed mild in comparison. I wasn't about to chop off his thingie, or brainwash him, or something like that! You could probably get charged with assault or worse from some of the things I read about in those stories!

No, what I was going to next was a kind of a test. You see, another thing to consider (I guess I'm really defensive about this part or something!), is that it seemed like the stories appealed to different types of people. In some of them, a man is actually transformed into a woman. In others, he is dressed up as a woman. In either case, sometimes he ended up still attracted to women, even though he was 'one of them'. But in other cases, the man wanted to be a woman, because he wanted to be with another man. Or once he became a *real* woman, our hormones got to him, and he became like us.

So what's the point in all this? Well, if you haven't guessed by now, I needed to know what was really going on in Bob's head. Did he like dressing up only? Or was he the kind that wanted to be with a man? It was important for me to understand this. If his real long-term goal was to be with a man, then our relationship was over. But if that wasn't true, then everything was still cool with me. I was having a lot of fun with this, and as long as I wasn't going to lose him to a man, then I was fine with keeping up on his fantasy.

 

Are you still with me? Okay, then I can get back to my little story. So I set things up at the end of that day. I was in bed already, with the TV on, watching a rerun of Sex and the City. I was on my back, and I had my legs bent, to keep my surprise hidden. When Bob came into the room, I told him that he should wear the pink nightie hanging in the bathroom, after he took off his makeup, put on his night cream, and all that.

When at last he started to come to bed, I could see that look in his eye. From what we had done the previous night, he was ready for us to have 'lesbian' sex again. He was all charged up, and it was laughable how his nightie stuck out in front, from him being all hard.

"Are you ready to go down on me, my love?" I said.

"Yes" he replied.

"Very good" I said, with a smile on my face, because of the surprise I had for him.

Bob walked up to the bed, and pulled back the covers. He looked at me, and there, between my legs, was the surprise. I was wearing a very realistic looking strap-on. It looked *so* weird to me, for there to be something sticking out from my groin, poking into the air like a flag pole. I couldn't imagine how awful it would feel to have something *real* like that down there. Ew!

It was held in place with a leather strap, that was buckled shut behind my back. For extra stability, it had a small part that inserted up inside of my pussy. The idea was that when I was using it on my partner, I'd get some stimulation too, because it would be in contact with my clit. I just hoped it wouldn't be too much for me, and that I wouldn't get irritated from it.

I looked up at Bob.

"Go ahead" I said. "I'm ready for you to go down on me."

"I don't know..." he started. "I mean...."

I was *so* thrilled that he was hesitant. If he wanted to be with a guy, he would have jumped at the chance to suck off me like this. But he was hesitant. My heart melted, and I had to fight to keep back tears from forming in my eyes. I had to appear to be strong, for him.

His eyes were popping out of his head. Again, I ordered him to go down on me, and after some hesitation, he finally did. He didn't put it very far into his mouth, and his eyes were closed. I could tell he didn't like it. But he *had* agreed to it.

Now I kind of wanted to test drive this thing. And I wanted to see if he had a breaking point, where he'd just break down and tell me that he had enough of all this. So after he got it wet, I told him to lay face down on the edge of the bed.

"Tonight my darling" I said, "you're going to feel what its like to have one of these up inside you."

I approached him, and put my hands on his love handles. Then I took the tip of my strap-on, and moved it into contact with him. I used my right hand, and moved it up and down his backside. Then I worked it in, just a little bit.

"Ugh" he said.

"What's the matter honey, doesn't it feel good?" I asked. "Isn't this what you want?"

"No, I want to go down on you, like we did last night" he said.

I reached around him, and started stroking his now waning erection.

"Come on honey, I'll pull out before I come, so you don't get pregnant" I said, using a line he had used on me back when we were first dating.

The tip of the strap-on hadn't really penetrated him, but it must have been causing *some* sensation for him. While I continued to wank him off with my right hand, I put my left hand up to his nipple and squeezed hard. I knew he had to be close to his climax. I pressed into him a little more.

"No, please stop" he said.

I pulled out, and let him get up. He just stared at me, with the *thing* sticking out in front of me.

"I'm the man of the house now" I said to him. "And you're the woman. From now on, things will be different around here. Now put your hands on my dick."

He did, and they were trembling.

"Feel it baby" I said. "It's a symbol of my power over you. I'm going to turn your whole world upside down from now on. You'll be on your knees, sucking this every day, if I want you to. Or I'll do you with it, if I please. You're my woman, and you're here to satisfy me in bed."

He had told me something like that early on in our marriage, before he learned that it is really the wife who is in charge. It was kind of fun now, turning it back on him! I felt a surge of confidence and power. I continued on, using lines like I had read in one of the stories.

"Now that you're a woman, you'll never be allowed to penetrate me again. Only a man can do that. I *am* a woman, and I have needs too though. I need a *real* man. And since *you* aren't a man, that means that I'm going to need to find someone else. You're my girlfriend now, and you want me to be happy, don't you?"

He just kind of looked at me, with that stunned look on his face.

"So you'll help me find a man for myself. A man who can satisfy me, since you're just a woman, and you won't ever be penetrating me again. Who knows Crissy. Maybe while you're out searching for me, you'll find a man for yourself too!"

 

Suddenly, Bob's face just sort of crumbled. He fell down onto his knees, and he started to cry. I guess that he suddenly realized that while he liked reading the stories, it was another thing to live one out in real life! He kept sobbing, and he looked so pathetic.

I went down to my knees too, and my eyes were filled with tears. It was too much for me to see him suffer like that. I suddenly felt *so* ashamed of what I had just done. I had lost myself in the role, and I had gone way too far. He hadn't deserved what I had just done to him. I was amazed at myself, that I had just done something so stupid. Things were going well, and I had just screwed everything up. Now I was sobbing too.

 

Now, for the first time, I did what I really should have done from the start. And what he should have done with me, when we first grew close, or whenever he started having his urges to be feminized: we actually sat down like two adults, and we discussed our feelings. What a concept!

I explained to him how he should have told me about this part of himself, long ago, and how much it hurt for me to discover it as I did. I explained how it hurt me for him to be holding back a part of himself, and how shutting me out like that made me feel like he somehow didn't fully trust me.

He countered by telling me how his urges had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember, and how he was afraid of losing me if he admitted it.

"I go online to read the stories, and get it all out of my system" he said. "I would never have dreamed of bringing it into our lives. So you can imagine how excited I was when one day you told me that you were turning me into a woman! I hadn't put two and two together, to figure out what you had been doing to me. When you told me, it was like the fantasy of my lifetime come true. But tonight, we went too far."

"I am *so* sorry honey!" I said, holding him in my arms, and kissing him. "I got too carried away with it all. I wanted to find your limits, but I didn't want to push you over the edge. I just hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

"I forgive you!" he said, smiling. "You were trying to help me! How could I hold that against you?"

"Thank you!" I said, now crying a tear of joy. I was so elated that he wasn't going to hate me for doing that to him. I *had* been cruel, and I *had* gone too far.

 

We agreed that we would continue to do something, where I'd feminize him. But we'd limit it to a couple of times a month or so, perhaps once a week. In return, he would concentrate more on meeting *my* needs, and doing the things *I* liked.

"You can pick the scenarios" I said. "When you find one of your stories that appeals to you, leave the URL for me, and I'll read it. Then I'll know just how far you want to go. Just don't ask me to do any of those stories where a witch transforms you, okay? I don't want to lose you!"

 

Now our marriage took a great turn for the better. Bob quit his bowling league, so he'd be spending more time with me, instead of hanging out with the guys and drinking. And he'd quit going to the bar with the guys on Sundays to watch football. He would devote himself to loving me.

In return, I make his fantasies come true. And now we do so many fun things together! We go shopping for outfits; one for me, and one for him. We're slowly building up his collection of clothes, so that he can dress up pretty, casual, dressy, or whatever the occasion calls for. I even snuck some of his outfits into our suitcase when we went to Florida on vacation, and I presented him with a yellow string bikini, which he loved. Of course, I didn't make him go out of the hotel with it on, but I got him to fall asleep on the balcony, so he got some tan lines, which was really cool.

Bob still shaves his chest, armpits and legs. He still uses my night cream. He hangs out with the girls, but dressed up as a guy. The girls don't ever mention anything to him about 'that night', but they treat him like he is one of us. We are so happy together, far happier than we were before I found out about his love of being feminized.

So girls, my advise to you is: try to get your guy into feminization. If he resists, there's always forced feminization. Give it a shot. You'll be a lot happier for it!

  

  

  

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