OBEDIENT TV HUSBAND Don sat quietly in the well-appointed waiting room. It
was all furnished in authentic French Provincial antiques, he noticed. This
must be one of the more successful marriage counselors in town. He had never
heard of this woman, but Don's wife Marisa had said she was widely known as
one of the area's leading experts in certain types of marital disharmony.
Thinking back, Don couldn't exactly remember when the difficulties between he
and Marisa had begun. Of course, he realized that at 30, he was three years
younger than his wife. But lately it seemed that his wife had lost much of the
warmth and affection that had attracted him when they met, over five years
before. It seemed that Marisa spent as much or more of her free time now with
her girlfriends, especially Laura who lived two apartments down the hall.
Laura seemed to be there in the morning for coffee and almost every night --
often staying for dinner. Don and Marisa just didn't seem to have their own
life together. So finally, after much complaining on Don's part, Marisa
suggested that they see this marriage counselor, Mrs. Theda Barron, to
straighten out their relationship. It seemed strange that Mrs. Barron
specified that the first visit should be with Don alone. But he didn't
complain. He was willing to do almost anything so that he and Marisa could be
as happy as they had once been. Don stopped mulling over the past and looked
about the room. He noticed that Mrs. Barron's receptionist-secretary was an
attractive young woman in her mid-twenties. She was certainly an efficient
secretary, he thought as he watched her answer several calls, type out some
letters, and respond to a chime from the next room (apparently Mrs. Barron was
consulting with another couple in distress). He noticed also that she seemed
to be dressed more effeminately than would be considered usual, with lace trim
on her jacket and skirt, and a white silk blouse with rows of lacy ruffles all
the way up to the lace neckline. Her heels were very high, and he wondered how
she was able to walk. But these days, he thought, who knew what the fashion
style was? Finally, the door to the next room opened and a middle-aged couple
emerged. The husky woman stooped at the doorway and spoke back into the room,
"Thanks again for all your help, Mrs. Barron. I think you've given us all we
need to get our marriage back on its feet - or on its knees, as the case may
be." Then she addressed her husband, who was waiting quietly at her side,
"Come dear, I can't wait to get home to try out some of Mrs. Barron ideas."
With that, she walked towards the door. Don spied a thin gold chain that she
held in her hand, and that appeared to extend up to a thin gold neckband worn
by her husband. The man, looking quite obsequious, hurried to stay by her
side, apparently not wanting anyone to see that he was being led by her on
what might be interpreted as a quite high-fashion leash. The secretary held
open the door for the woman and her husband- in-tow. "See you next week, Mrs.
Henderson," she said cheerily, ignoring the presence of the man. She nodded
affirmatively and spun into the hall with her husband scrambling to keep pace.
The secretary closed the door and turned to Don. "Mrs. Barron will see you
now, Don," she said with a slight smile. Don thought it unusual not to be
referred to as Mr. Thompson, but he let it pass. He felt like he was missing
something here. As he walked into the inner office, he came face to face with
a statuesque woman at least three of four inches taller than he. She was in
her forties but extremely attractive in a rather hard, sharp-featured way. She
was wearing a stylish black dress, knee-length with long sleeves and a tan
leather vest. Don noticed that her already tall presence was made even more
prominent by black high-heeled sandals which showed off her brightly-colored
toenails with great effect. "Welcome, Don," she said as she extended her hand
for a firm handshake. "You may sit here." She indicated a low chair set in
front of her desk. As Don moved to sit, she spoke back through the door to her
secretary, "Monique, bring me a fresh cup of coffee... and a glass of water
for our visitor." Don turned to her. "I don't really care for water, Mrs. - ".
He was interrupted in mid-sentence by Mrs. Barron. "Never mind, Don," she said
sternly . "I think water will be fine for you. This is, after all, my office
and you are here to receive my consultation. So why don't you just follow my
procedures for a while, eh?" Don was just about to protest further about this
blunt and inconsiderate treatment, but he decided against it and shrugged. If
he started having disagreements with the marriage counselor too soon, he
thought, nothing would be accomplished. More than that, Marisa would be
furious. She felt that Mrs. Barron was exactly the expert they needed. He
decided to ignore her abruptness. Mrs. Barron walked around her desk and sat
in her chair. After thumbing through a few type-written pages on her desk, she
looked Don in the eyes and asked, "I see from what your wife has that your
marriage is not working out too well. Why have you been treating your wife in
such an unseemly manner, Don?" Don was taken aback at having all the blame
placed on him. "What?! Mrs. Barron, I think we have a few problems, but it's
mostly because my wife has been running around with a group of her friends and
..." Once again, Mrs. Barron interrupted him by holding up her hand. "I can
see that your wife is correct when she describes you as headstrong and quite
uncaring about her feelings. You didn't allow me to finish what I was saying,
did you, Don?" Feeling a bit sheepish, Don looked away from the intense
expression on the woman's face. "Uh, no.. I'm sorry." "Then I shall continue,
and please don't interrupt me again." She looked down again at her notes.
"Your wife says that she has developed some very close relationships with
several women, one in particular who lives very close to you, but that you
don't accept these friends of hers. Is that true?" "Well, yes, I guess it
is... but you see, this one friend Laura is around all the time and I..." "I'm
not particularly interested in your excuses, Don. What I am concerned with is
your lack of respect for your wife. If she wishes to have friends over, at any
time, why should you object?" She paused for effect. "On the contrary, you
should be pleased that your wife has these friends and you should do all in
your power to see that they are made welcome in your wife's home." "My wife's
home?...." Don trailed off. Shrugging him off, Mrs. Barron got out of her
chair and walked around to lean against the edge of the desk next to Don. "You
love your wife, don't you, Don?" He nodded. "Then you should want to do
anything that will make her happy, shouldn't you?" He nodded again, and was
about to speak when the secretary knocked and entered. She gave a cup of
steaming coffee to Mrs. Barron and a small glass of water to Don. "That will
be all, Monique. Now get back to work, and be sure that all my letters are
typed by noon," said Mrs. Barron abruptly. Monique curtsied slightly. "Yes,
ma'am," she replied respectfully and turned to walk quietly out of the room.
Don took a sip of water, since he was beginning to get a bit uncomfortable,
and found it was lukewarm. He set it down on the table beside him. "Aren't you
showing a bit of favoritism here?" he asked, a bit sarcastically. "On the
contrary," resumed Mrs. Barron, "You see, Don, in any marriage there must be
compromise. One partner must help make the other happy. And inevitably, one
partner will become more dominant. It is my theory that, in almost every case,
a marriage will work most effectively when the husband dedicates himself to
the needs and wishes of his wife. Men are just more naturally suited to this
role. Throughout history, men have defended and died for their women - helped
them with chores, worked for them. Women have always been the dominant sex,
but it just went unacknowledged. In most species the female is superior and
accepted as such -but over time the human race as a whole has strayed away
from its natural arrangement. There is no reason why it shouldn't be restored
in marriage - and there is absolutely no reason for you or anyone else to feel
embarrassed about that. Do you follow my reasoning?" Don couldn't quite
believe what he was hearing, but he was determined to try. "Yes, Ma'am," he
said, "but I think I have some rights too." Mrs. Barron arose and walked to
the window. "Oh, I agree, Don. You perhaps have the right to live with your
wife, to be in her company when she so desires, and to do everything you can
to make her life pleasurable and worry-free. Those are very important rights.
But you don't have the right to complain about the company she keeps, nor how
she chooses to live. Not every man is able to live with a woman as beautiful
as Marisa. You should be thankful to be merely allowed in her presence daily."
Don agreed, to a point. His wife was beautiful and he didn't want to lose her.
"Unfortunately," continued Mrs. Barron, "Marisa has told me that she cannot
stand your possessive nature and constant complaining. She chose me as your
counselor because I recognize the importance - and the benefits - of the wife
assuming the dominant role in marriage. She told me that if this session today
doesn't help resolve your differences, she will leave you and file for
divorce." This was the first Don had heard of divorce. And he was terrified.
He truly loved Marisa and didn't ever want to lose her. He had no idea she was
so insistent with this Laura thing. Moreover, she had become the principal
breadwinner in the home and he knew that he could never afford living in the
luxury he did now if he was out on his own. He enjoyed the concerts, the
dinners out, the entertaining -- even if they were almost always accompanied
by Laura. Don looked up at the towering figure of Mrs. Barron. "Mrs. Barron,"
he said in all ernestness, "I didn't know she was this upset about it. I don't
want to lose her. What does she want?" Mrs. Barron smiled down at the young
man, and strode back to sit behind her desk. He was following her lead
perfectly. "Well, Don, first of all you must change your basic attitude. You
look upon Marisa in terms of ownership - your ownership. Marisa is not yours
to 'lose'. You must change this attitude around and instead look upon yourself
as the owned party - owned by Marisa. you must learn to follow her wishes and
learn how to please her. It's a simple attitude change. All you have to do is
keep your ego out of the way." Don thought for a second. It sounded plausible
if it was turned down a bit. "Alright, I can do that. But where do I start? I
don't know what to say or do..." "I know Don. That's why Marisa came to me.
She had a feeling you would want to stay with her, and she had heard from old
friends that I am an expert in helping men to make the transition into a new
kind of marriage. I know I'm asking you to make all the concessions right now,
but that is only because Marisa is very angry and will not compromise. If you
make the effort now, in time she'll give in a little bit too, I'm sure." He
nodded. "How long?" "Well....I really can't predict that. Right now all that's
important is that you realize that she is on the verge of calling off your
marriage entirely. If you decide to follow her wishes, you must assume that
the arrangement will continue indefinitely. Is that acceptable?" "Yes. I'm
assuming you mean a cooling-off period." "Not exactly, as I'll explain. Now,"
she continued, "the first step will be to demonstrate to Marisa your
willingness to accept her dominance and her role in the household. After that,
she will be able to relax and lead her life as she chooses. Without
interference from you." Don looked up. "Demonstrate? How? Do you know?" "I
know what Marisa has told me. If you agree to her conditions - and that's
really what they are - Laura is going to move into your apartment in the near
future. I know that your wife is quite fond of you but has lost any real
sexual interest. She and Laura will be the primary relationship in your
household. In our conversations, she insisted that if you wish to remain with
her you may, but only in a completely different role." "A different role?"
asked Don. "What kind of role?" Mrs. Barron again rose and came to the side of
Don's chair. "Your wife will only accept you as... a helper, shall we say. She
needs someone to help with the house, to do the cleaning and laundry, and to
help serve and entertain her many guests. Marisa's career is on the upswing,
as you know, and she simply can't cope with her career and running the
apartment at the same time. And once Laura moves in with her, the work will be
doubled. Since she is making so much more than you, she feels that this would
be the appropriate solution." "So she wants me to be a houseboy, is that it?"
Don asked incredulously. "Well.....almost, Don." Mrs. Barron leaned down to
take Don's hand in hers. "You see, Marisa has become totally enamoured with
Laura and she has developed some very definite ideas concerning female
superiority. As a result, she really does not want to be confronted with
masculinity in any sense -- at home, that is. She has to deal with enough of
that during the day. She would only tolerate your continued presence as...
shall we say... a maid. A feminine servant, if you will." Don pulled his hand
away. "But how could I... ever ---?" "Now, now, Don," she interrupted. "That's
your ego getting in the way again." Don shook his head. "How could she expect
me to do that? Does she hate me that much?" "Believe me, I can understand how
you feel. But listen to me now, and I'll tell you how you can do it. I know
what I'm talking about. You won't consider it right now because you are still
identifying with the male stereotype - tough, macho, etc. That is going to be
challenged, and it will be hard for a while. What you have to do is to change
your emotional orientation so that you begin to identify with the female
stereotype. Do you see that?" "Really, Mrs. Barron, that's great in theory,
but it can't be done, I'm sure." He was shaking his head no. Mrs. Barron
smiled. "You must have some faith in me, Don. I can prove to you that it can
be done." She pressed a button on her phone. Don heard the chime in the
waiting room. A few seconds later the door opened and Monique entered. "Yes,
ma'am?", she asked. "Come in, Monique," Mrs. Barron beckoned. "Right here by
me." Monique obeyed. "Don, I'd like you to meet my husband." "What?!" His jaw
dropped. "No... no way. I don't believe it." "Monique....." Mrs. Barron
prompted. Monique looked pained. She lifted the lace hem of her skirt and
raised it, exposing her gartered stocking tops and her lace- edged pink
panties. "You don't have to take anything off, Monique," Mrs. Barron told her.
"Just enough to dispel any lingering doubts in Don's mind." Holding her skirt
up with one hand, Monique pulled the front of her panties down slightly. It
was unmistakable. She was a he. Monique dropped her skirt. "Thank you,
Monique," Mrs. Barron said. Monique stood quietly by her - his - wife's side.
Mrs. Barron continued, taking advantage of Don's shocked state of mind. "I can
assure you that Monique is not being coerced in any way, by me or anyone else.
She resisted at first..." she glanced over to Monique - "but that was only
until she stopped letting her ego run her life." She motioned for Monique to
continue. "It's quite lovely, Mr. Thompson," Monique said in her soft feminine
voice. "I would never want to go back to the way it was," she stated flatly.
"Our marriage is better in every way." "You must remember to give it some
time," Mrs. Barron said. "Whenever you feel like it's too much, just say to
yourself, 'give it some time...give it some time'. It will get better, I
promise you. Monique is proof of that. The important thing for now is -- are
you willing to make such a committment to your wife, on a permanent basis?"
Don paused, very much confused. "Well, I think.. I don't know...." he trailed
off. "You must understand that it has to be yes or no," Mrs. Barron stated.
"You can't do it halfway. There will be no turning back once you start. " He
shuddered. "Well...... I know I can't live without her. So I guess I'll have
to go along with her." "Is that a committment?" she pressed him. He nodded,
slowly. "Fine. Marisa will want to make some definite changes in your
lifestyle.... not to mention your physical appearance. So if you really don't
think you can adjust to dresses and soft, silky panties, you'd better say so
now - but you will be saying goodbye to Marisa!" "No, I can't. I can't leave
her." Don looked up to Mrs. Barron in almost total confusion. Which is just
where she wanted him to be at this time. "Would you explain to Marisa that I
want to stay with her?" "There, there, dear, don't get upset." She patted his
head affectionately, stroked his cheek, and extended her well- manicured hand
in front of Don's face. "Kiss my hand, Don, and thank me for the advice I've
given you." Don immediately grasped her hand and kissed it, then kissed each
finger, murmuring, "Yes... thank you, Mrs. Barron, for your help. Please help
me keep my wife." After Don had paid homage to his advisor's hand, Mrs. Barron
arose and went behind her desk. "Don, I have a little surprise for you. I
asked Marisa and Laura to come over today. I wanted to inform them of your
attitude, whatever it may have been. I'm happy to see that you are willing to
adjust to the situation. And I would say that you are ready to speak for
yourself. I think Marisa would enjoy hearing you tell her about your new
committment to her. Don't you think so? Besides, it's better to get these
things out of the way quickly." With that, she buzzed her secretary. "Monique,
you may show Mrs. Thompson and her friend in now." Then she looked at Don.
"You must get up, Don. Your two new mistresses are coming in and you should
show them the proper respect." Don stood up quickly. "What should I do, Mrs.
Barron?" "Do what any obedient maid would do in the presence of her
mistresses. Curtsey when they enter the room." Don swallowed. At that moment,
Marisa and Laura were shown into the room. Marisa was just as beautiful as
Mrs. Barron had suggested. Her long hair, blonde and shimmering, which was
usually combed out long, was pulled back into a bun today. She looked stunning
in her red suit and black high-heeled pumps. Her girlfriend Laura had long
brown hair that draped over her shoulders. Even though Don didn't think she
was as beautiful as Marisa, she was beautiful nevertheless in her blue and
white dress and high- heeled sandals. As Marisa entered the room, she first
looked at Mrs. Barron, and then her eyes shifted to Don. She didn't miss the
half-hearted curtsey, his hands lifting an imaginary skirt. He was looking at
the floor. "Well, Don," she said, "That's quite nice. But I didn't know you'd
still be here." She turned to Mrs. Barron. "I thought you said we would talk
about Don's decision after he left." Mrs. Barron smiled and led Marisa over to
where Don was standing. "I know that's what I said, but Don reached a decision
much faster than I had hoped. And he wants to tell you himself. Don?" She
fixed the trembling man with a fierce look. "Don," she replied sternly, "Greet
your mistress." Don paused, not knowing what she meant. "You'll have to help
him for a while, Marisa," Mrs. Barron offered. She nodded, then offered her
high-heeled pump to him. Don, comprehending, slowly sank to his knees, feeling
totally helpless and humiliated in front of these three lovely women. He
kissed the top of her stocking-clad foot obediently. "I'm impressed." "You may
speak now, Don," reminded Mrs. Barron. "Uh, yes... I... uh," he looked up at
Marisa and saw a slight smile curl around his wife's mouth as she reached to
take Laura's hand affectionately. "Uh.. Mistress Marisa, I... uh, want to stay
with you.. and help you.. and do whatever you want me to. Just please, don't
leave." He was almost in tears. Marisa looked down at him kindly. "I won't
send you away, Don. I don't want to break up our marriage, either. But things
are going to change, once and for all - or it's all over. Do you promise to
obey me in all ways, whatever and whenever I ask?" "Yes, mistress," Don
replied earnestly. "Do you promise to serve me and Mistress Laura, and to
cater to our wishes night and day, whatever they may be, without complaint? -
or, actually - with some enthusiasm?" "Oh, yes, I promise, mistress," he
repeated. "Are you willing to wear a dress?" He hesitated. Marisa lifted the
hem of her abbreviated skirt and pulled it up a long her nylon-clad thighs.
The lace-trimmed edging of her silky pink panties appeared. "- and nice, silky
pink panties?" He looked at Mrs. Barron. She nodded, smiling, indicating that
he should agree. "Yes, yes... please, Mistress Marisa." "Very well," said
Marisa with finality. "We'll see how it goes. You may kiss our feet to show
you are sincere." Don had gone too far to back out now. He leaned forward to
plant a lingering kiss on each of his wife's pumps. Then he crawled over to
Laura, the woman he had so despised the day before, and kissed each one of her
sandals. "Well, well," smiled Mrs. Barron. "Don, I must commend you. You have
made excellent progress today. I know you will not regret your decision. Now
let's sit down and plan out your immediate future, shall we?" She motioned for
Marisa and Laura to be seated, then spoke spoke to Marisa. "First, there's the
matter of a name - you certainly can't call him Don. Then I want to speak to
you and Laura privately." "We've already chosen a name," Marisa volunteered.
"Denise." "That's a pretty name," Mrs. Barron approved. Don just looked at the
floor, still on his knees. He began to get up but Marisa leaned over and
placed her hand on his shoulder. He stopped, somewhat angry. She could tell
that he was re- evaluating the situation. Marisa softened. "You must remain on
your knees in the presence of ladies, Don," she said quietly. He hesitated,
then dropped back down to kneel by her chair. Mrs. Barron shook her head in
knowing way. "He'll come around, Marisa, but I'm afraid he has much to learn
about his new life." Marisa shifted her attention to her husband. "Don't
worry. We'll teach him." And then she turned to Laura. "Won't we, darling?" "I
can hardly wait," Laura replied with a giggle. And they shared a hot, sexual
kiss while Don looked on, on his knees, contemplating the beginning of his new
life. Mrs. Barron motioned to her maid-husband. After Monique had escorted Don
out of the room, Mrs. Barron spoke frankly to Marisa. "I think he'll work out
for you. But he's not completely convinced he wants to do this yet." "What
should we do?" Marisa queried. "You'll have to go easy for a while. Let him
get used to it. He was all set to walk out of here when you held him down." "I
know - but he has to learn. So what do you suggest?" "Give him lots of praise
for a while. Don't threaten him. If he won't do as you ask, just mention it
and ask him if he's decided to terminate the arrangement. Put the
responsibility on him." "Yes, that's a good idea," Laura interjected. Mrs.
Barron smiled at her. "Make sure you get him in a dress right away. He and
Monique are about the same size, so you are welcome to use the clothes I used
when I first trained him." Marisa nodded. "Thank you - that's very generous."
"I'd like to see you succeed. The important thing right now is that you'll
have to over-feminize him. All at once. That way, he will experience it as
less humiliating when you get him into more normal women's clothing. But
always make sure he is dressed more femininely than either of you - he will
begin to see himself as having 'nicer' clothes than you.

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 That's more important
than you might think. You want to encourage a little competition." Marisa
nodded in understanding. "Now, I'll have Monique get the trunk so we can lay
out his attire for the next week or so." About an hour later, Don found
himself leaving the office of Mrs. Barron in the company of his two
mistresses. His head was spinning from the changes that had overtaken him with
blinding speed. That morning, he'd been as free and independent as any married
man, and now... he was under the absolute control of his wife and her Lesbian
girlfriend. Unbelieveable! To accentuate his servile status, Mrs. Barron
awarded Don a tight gold necklace that she clasped around his throat as they
were about to leave. "You ought to be proud, Don," she said. "Most husbands
don't earn their obedience collar for many more sessions. But I think you're
ideally suited to your new life." And having said that, she gave a thin gold
leash to Marisa who happily attached it to the young man's necklace. Then
Marisa spoke to Don. "Thank Mrs. Barron for all her help, Miss Denise," giving
a quick tug on the chain. Don responded quickly, by dropping to his knees in
front of the counselor. He knew this time what he was expected to do. Raising
Mrs. Barron's shapely, sandaled foot, Don took it in his hand and kissed it
all over. Then he stooped down even lower to pay homage to her other foot.
Mrs. Barron chuckled good-naturedly. "Don't worry, Marisa," the woman said,
"she'll learn to do it automatically if you follow the training plan we've
laid out." Don didn't miss the reference to the feminine gender. "I don't know
how to thank you, Mrs. Barron," said Marisa. "Laura and I both thank you."
"Yes, indeed," added Laura. "I've always wanted to live a life of luxury with
a maid at my beck and call, and now it looks as though we'll have one. It'll
be great fun -" she remembered Mrs. Barron's advice - "for all of us." Mrs.
Barron smiled. "Well, I hope you two love birds have a great life together.
But remember what I said about Denise. The training will take some time, so
don't get discouraged. But she's an excellent candidate for female servitude,
and in time she will become the docile little servant girl you really want."
Marisa handed the leash to Laura. "Here, darling, why don't you take this."
"With pleasure," Laura smiled broadly. She pulled on the leash to get Don back
on his feet. "Let's go, Miss Denise," she ordered. "We haveza lot to do when
we get home." Monique carried the large trunk of clothing out to their car,
keenly aware of its contents. After final goodbyes, they started off for home.
Don got a further taste of his new position in life when his mistresses
insisted that he sit in the back seat while they rode up front and discussed
their new life together. Halfway home, Laura decided that she was hungry, so
Marisa drove to a nearby restaurant they both liked. As they pulled into the
parking lot, Marisa said, "I almost forgot - Denise's in the back. What should
we do with her?" Laura slid over on the seat and gave Marisa a long wet kiss
full on the mouth. Their lipstick blended as their tongues intertwined, and
then Laura eased her tongue from Marisa's mouth. "Remember, Marisa, Denise is
now our maid and she's agreed to obey us completely. I think it would be good
for her to stay in the car while we eat. She needs to start dieting if she's
going to fit properly into a dress." She kissed Marisa again. "Come on, lover,
let's go have a drink to celebrate our new life." They both got out of the
car. As Laura exited, she reached back and handed Don a small case. "Take
this, Miss Denise," she said. "It's a makeup kit. While we are eating, I want
you to pluck your eyebrows.." she pointed to her own - "so that they look like
this. There are tweezers and a mirror in there. We'll be out shortly." Laura
kissed Marisa again as they locked the car and walked hand in hand into the
restaurant. Don slid down in the seat to hide from passersby. After a
leisurely lunch, Marisa and Laura complimented him on the job he had done on
his eyebrows. He'd managed to arch them very well, and had plucked them down
to a thin line. When they arrived home, the two women led Don up to their
apartment, with him carrying the large trunk. Laura ordered Don to fix them
cocktails and bring them to her in the living room. He did so, and when he
came back in, he found her longing on the sofa next to Marisa, smoking a
cigarette. He handed a drink to each of them and then stood beside the sofa,
waiting. "Miss Denise, kneel down when you're in the room with ladies! Have
you forgotten already?" "I'm sorry, Laura... Mistress Laura," he mumbled as he
dropped to his knees. She extended her foot to him. He gave her the required
kiss to show his appreciation for the discipline. They were following Mrs.
Barron's rules to the letter. "Now don't forget, Miss Denise, we have to be
very strict with you, but we'll allow you to make some mistakes at first, just
as Mrs. Barron said. First of all, you should start grooming yourself as befit
a proper maid in a lady's service. And there's no better time to start than
right now. I want you to go into the bathroom and shave every single hair off
your body, including your private parts. You may keep the hair on your head,
but the sideburns and everything else comes off completely." He nodded. "After
that, take a bath in some of our perfumed bath oil. Then polish your nails --
fingers and toes. When you're finished, come back in here for inspection." Don
left the living room in a stupor and went into the bathroom to disrobe. He
thought of walking out then and there. Why should he submit to the will of
these women? He was physically much stronger than they. But he thought of what
Mrs. Barron had said. 'Give it some time.' He hadn't even started yet. With
that decision made, he slipped into the perfumed bath. Picking up a razor from
Marisa's things, he started shaving the hair from his legs. It took him a long
time to finish, after which he shaved his chest, stomach, armpits, arms, and
finally, his genitals. With each step he felt he was losing more and more
control over his life, and was more completely under the control of his two
mistresses. When he was through shaving, he took a hot bath in the perfumed
bath oil, which he had to admit felt very luxurious, especially on his
hairless body. After drying off, he picked up a bottle of pink nail polish and
did his nails. He missed in a few places, but overall it wasn't a bad job. The
toenails were a bit harder. Before going back to face the two women, he
glanced at himself in the mirror... and could barely believe it was him --
shaven, with fine eyebrows and polished nails. He felt embarrassed and
helpless. But he hoped Marisa would be pleased that he had followed
instructions so explicitly. He put on his robe and walked back into the living
room where he found Laura and Marisa fondling each other. Their tongues roamed
in each other's mouths. They didn't stop kissing, but Laura gestured for him
to take off his robe and turn around so she could inspect him. He did so,
without a moment's hesitation, and tried to pirhouette for his mistresses. He
turned back to see a smile of satisfaction on Marisa's face. She broke their
kiss to speak to Don. "You've done very well, Miss Denise. Your legs and
thighs look so much smoother now. And your penis.... why, Miss Denise, you're
blushing so!" Laura kissed her again, then said, "Stand in the corner, Miss
Denise. We'll be with you in a minute." Don nodded mutely and walked over to
the corner of the living room where he stood, naked and alone. The two girls
resumed their hot, wet kissing. Then he heard Laura's voice again. "Stand on
your tip-toes, dear. It'll be good practice for you. After all, once you start
wearing heels, your feet will have to get used to that position." She returned
to her lover. Don raised himself up onto his tiptoes to await his continued
training. Considering how quickly his feet tired, he hoped it would be very
soon. ********** A little over a half an hour later the women stopped their
sexual petting and kissing. Marisa got up off the sofa. From his solitary
corner Don stiffened in anticipation. Marisa said, "Well, let's see what's in
the trunk, shall we?" They both glanced at Don, barely standing on his toes,
shaking with exhaustion and the pain in his legs and feet. Marisa went over to
Don and turned him around to see the strain on his face. "Poor dear," she
said. "Having a hard time of it, huh?" He appreciated her concern. He could
think of nothing to do but stand and wait for them to decide what he should do
next.. slowly, though, he began to hide his privates with his trembling hands.
"No, no, Miss Denise, don't cover up your pretty little nude thing... it's so
cute and pink! Marisa gathered them around the trunk and asked Don if he would
like to open it to see what his new attire would be. He did so, finding an
entire assortment of feminine attire in the different sections in the trunk.
There were many pairs of frilly lace panties and bras, tap pants, slips and
half-slips, nighties and negligees of various lengths and colors, layered
petticoats, a few corsets, garterbelts, lace garters, nylons, and spike-heeled
sandals and slippers. In the bottom of the trunk were a number of boxes
containing shoes, dresses, and coordinated sets. Everything was covered with
lace trim and edging. Most of the panties had rows of ruffled lace across the
back. It was like a small department store! "You know," Marisa remarked,
"there's a fortune in lingerie here." Laura agreed. When everything was
unpacked and laid out, Marisa asked, "Would you mind if I chose your first
outfit?" He shook his head, and she scolded him. "No, mistress," he corrected
himself. "Have you ever seen an assortment like this, lover?" Laura asked. "I
can't believe it, but I'm jealous!" Marisa scanned the array and picked up a
pair of silky pink bikini panties with layers of ruffled lace edging at the
waist and legs and across the back, and held them up in front of Don. "Aren't
these gorgeous!" she asked. "You know, you're really very fortunate to be able
to wear these... so soft and lacy and pretty... I've never been able to afford
lingerie like this." She looked at him. "Want to try them on?" He looked back
at her sheepishly. "Oh, there's no reason to be embarrassed," she comforted.
"Nobody is going to tease you. I'd really like to know how you like them." She
held the panties out for him to step into. As she pulled them up his legs and
into place around his waist, he felt a combination of emotions -- relief at
having his nakedness covered, and both intense embarrassment and pleasure at
wearing the lacy, feminine panties. "They look very pretty on you, Miss
Denise," Marisa complimented. He blushed profusely. "Of course you'll need a
bra," Marisa commented, rummaging through one of the piles of clothes. Finding
what she was looking for, she said, "And this will do nicely - a nice frilly
corset!" "Ah, yes," added Laura with a smile. "No modest little maid would
dare be seen without a corset, would she?" Don shifted uncomfortably.
"Besides, it will help shape your body into a more suitable form." Marisa held
up the pink satin lace corset. It had whalebone stays and powder blue lace
trim all around the bottom, and the body of it was done in pink lace. The
underwire bra had satin on the bottom of the cups and lace on top, and was
outlined in blue lace. "Oh, this will look so pretty on you, Miss Denise!"
chirped Marisa. She had him turn and wrapped it around him. He felt a wave of
embarrassement, and the soft touch of his panties. He didn't think he could do
this. "Marisa..." he stuttered. She gave him a harsh look, saying nothing.
Then he understood. "Mistress Marisa," he blurted, "I...I... can't...." She
studied his face. Her voice soft and dripping sweetness, she said, "Oh, Miss
Denise, you must...please. You'll look so pretty. Just try it, that's all I'm
asking." He shifted nervously, and felt the silky caress of his panties again.
"Alright....Mistress." She gave him a quick hug and began to lace the corset
while Laura held it closed in the back. The bra cups hung limply from his
chest. Then the corset began to get tighter. "Raise your arms straight over
your head, Miss Denise," Laura instructed, pulling on the corset while Marisa
tightened the laces. He began gasping for breath but the women just pulled
harder, telling him to exhale while they pulled on the laces. "It's not tight
enough yet, lover," Laura commented to Marisa. "I know," she replied. Then, to
Don, she said, "Miss Denise, come over here to the door, please." He did so,
uncomfortably, embarrassed. "Now, hold the top of the door frame and lift
yourself up." He did as she asked, feeling the corset loosen. "Great... stay
like that for a minute." Marisa told him. His wife put her knee in the small
of his back and pulled on the laces. The corset tightened again. "Now Denise,
exhale - quickly!" Laura added. Marisa pulled the laces tighter. He could hold
on no longer. His fingers sore, he dropped back onto his feet. He felt like
his insides were being squashed. He groaned in discomfort. "Ooooooo, it fits
perfectly!" Laura squealed, delighted. "I know it's tight, Miss Denise,"
Marisa soothed. "But..." she continued, running her hands up and down his
sides, "look what it's done for your figure." He looked down, craning his neck
since it was difficult to move. His waist was nipped in sharply, pushed up to
his chest and down to his hips. His stomach was flattened. It looked like a
girl's body. Then Marisa pulled an extra strip of satin from the front of the
corset, between Don's legs under his panties, and fastened it tightly to a
hook in the back. This piece had a small groove into which his genitals fit,
and the overall effect was a completely smooth crotch area, void of
masculinity. "I'm afraid that you'll have to wear this corset at all times,
Miss Denise," reminded Laura. "Even at night. It will be unpleasant, but we
simply must reduce your waist to about 22 inches... don't you agree, darling?"
Marisa nodded, pulling the lace-clad garters through the leg holes of his
pretty panties. Laura rolled a pair of matching pink nylons up his
smooth-shaven legs and smoothed them into place. As she fastened each
beribboned garter clasp to his nylons, she remarked, "I'm sure it won't be
long before you'll love the feel of your garters pulling on your nylons, Miss
Denise." Marisa agreed. "And," said his wife, smiling devilishly, "to make
sure you don't feel under-developed, here's some padding for you, at least
until you can grow some nice titties of your own!" Saying that, she pulled two
weighted breast forms out of a separate bag and carefully tucked one into each
lace bra cup. "Hmmm.. very realistic," said Marisa. "She's beginning to look
pretty good... why, good enough to .. eat!" "Better than me, darling?" cooed
Laura. "Never, lover-girl," replied Marisa. She jumped out of her chair and
gave Laura a lingering, wet kiss. Don stood in his panties and corset as the
two women kissed hotly. While Laura went to the kitchen to go get a drink
refill, Marisa continued to dress her new maid. After making sure that his
corset was adjusted properly, she picked up a pink lace camisole that was
obviously part of the set, and drew it over his head. His bra fit snugly into
the lace cups of the camisole, which were, like the corset, outlined in powder
blue lace. The hem was made of matching rows of ruffled lace. The filmy
material did little to cover the lace corset. "Oh, they're pretty!" said Laura
as she re-entered the room with drinks for she and Marisa. Marisa was
adjusting the pink and blue garters he was wearing around his thighs. "Now,
Miss Denise, we have something that will always remind you that you're wearing
a dress," Marisa offered, picking up a pink taffeta petticoat. It ruffled
loudly as she held it up for him. "This will make a pretty swishing sound
every time you move," she said, shaking the waistband. The many layers of
satin, lace, and taffeta rustled and swished as she did so. "I can't wait to
see it on her," Laura said excitedly. Marisa held the waistband open at his
feet so he could step into it. Stiffly, he lifted his feet, and Marisa slid
the rustling petticoat up his legs and into place. It was extremely short,
shorter than it appeared when held up. It barely covered his garters and
panties, and Don surmised that the slighest bending of the waist would put his
lacy intimate lingerie on full display! Marisa pulled the hem of his camisole
down over the petticoat, swishing his skirts loudly as she did so. "Oh, she's
beautiful!" Laura exclaimed, walking around his standing form. They had him
sit down, and a box of shoes was taken from the trunk. He smoothed his skirts
under him, and Marisa praised him for doing so. But the corset made sitting a
painful exercise. Marisa removed a pair of pink pumps with three-inch heels
from the box. "These will be good shoes for you to learn in," said Marisa as
she stroked his smooth-shaven nylon-clad legs. "Soon, you'll be able to handle
five-inch heels with little or no problem, which will make your smooth legs
just so pretty in your nice silky nylons." She then instructed Don to walk
around to get accustomed to the high heels. With every cautious step the
petticoats swished, and Don felt the garters pulling on his nylons. "And now
for the final touch," said Marisa, opening a finely decorated box. "A nice
frilly pink dress!" She lifted it from the box and held it up for him. Like
the petticoat, it was extremely short. It was obvious what the designer had
intended to do - it was not at all meant to display the charms of the female
body, but rather to accentuate the femininity of the wearer. The pale pink
material it was made of was shiny and translucent; Don couldn't see through
it, but he could see Marisa's hand through the skirt as she held it out. The
neckline was ringed with a high lace collar, and two rows of ruffled lace
converged at the center of the bustline from the puffed sleeves. The high
waist was gathered in a wide band extending from under the bust to the
waistline of the skirt. The hem of the dress and the short sleeves were
decorated in matching blue lace. It was extremely feminine, and reminded Don
of the frilly little dresses that young schoolgirls always seemed to wear.
"Well, Miss Denise, do you like it?" Laura interrupted his thoughts. Don
looked at the dress again and was immediately aware of the frilly lingerie
against his body. The ruffled petticoat tickled his thighs. It felt sexy, he
had to admit. He found he wanted to see what it would be like to wear the
dress too. "You don't have to answer if you're embarrassed, Miss Denise,"
Marisa advised. Don was relieved. "Just turn around and raise your arms over
your head." He felt the skirt flutter down over his head. The two women tugged
the dress down over his feminized body, smoothing the skirt out over his
petticoats. The ruffled lace and taffeta peeked out from beneath the skirt.
Marisa zipped it up in back, then the two lovers stepped back to admire their
handiwork. "You look lovely, Miss Denise!" complimented Laura. "How does it
feel?" "I feel like.... a girl," he answered, "Mistress Laura." She chuckled.
"I should hope so! You certainly look like a girl!" A few seconds later, she
added, "Now walk to the end of the room and back, and then tell me you don't
like it." He did so, mincing his steps unsurely. His skirts made an exciting
frou-frou with each step, and Don was keenly aware of the lingerie sliding
across his body. His breasts jutted out over his flat stomach. It was terribly
exciting! He stopped and looked at Laura, saying nothing. "I thought as much,"
she smiled. "Now, come into the bedroom so we can put your makeup on and fix
your hair. Then we'll let you see what you look like." Laura sat him down at
Marisa's dressing table, facing away from the mirror so he couldn't see what
they were doing. Marisa draped a towel around his neck to protect his dress.
"Now, with a little makeup, you should be passable as a girl," she said. "But
I want you to pay attention to what we are doing, since you will eventually
have to do this yourself." He nodded in agreement, then caught himself. "Yes,
Mistress Marisa." Marisa plucked his eyebrows in the few places he had missed
while lying in the car. Laura was busy with his hair, using a brush and a
curling iron. He wished he could watch her in the mirror as she carefully
transformed his normal hair style to that of an attractive young woman. After
Marisa had applied the foundation creme, she went to work on his eyes,
darkening and arching his eyebrows, and then by applying mascara and eye
shadow. After rubbing a little blush into his cheeks, she picked up a lip
liner and outlined his lips, taking a long time to shape them into a full,
feminine pout. She finished by filling in his lips with bright red lipstick.
"What do you think?" Marisa asked Laura, motioning to his face. Laura gave her
approval, and they turned the chair around so that Don could see his
reflection in the mirror. Don was amazed at the extent of the change in his
appearance. His eyes were full and round, with long thick eyelashes beneath
thin, arched eyebrows. His lips were soft and deep red, and his hair was
curled into a short pageboy style that was quite popular. There was absolutely
no reason for anyone to question his gender - or rather, her gender! "My,
isn't she the prettiest little thing?" Laura remarked to Marisa. Don blushed
profusely. They led him back into the living room. "Now, for the rest of the
evening, you must practice walking and speaking. Remember - put your toe down
first when you walk. If you try to put your full weight on the heel first,
you'll break it." He nodded. "Yes, Mistress, I'll be careful." "And remember
to sway your hips slightly, like a proper young lady. The heels will help."
"Yes, Mistress." Marisa winked at Laura. "We're going to retire to the bedroom
while you practice your voice. Make it as high as you can, but not so high
that you cackle. The important thing is to speak clearly - it'll take some
time." He wondered how much time he would have to practice. Then Laura
interrupted, a devilish grin on her face. "And one more thing," she said, "-
it's three twenty now. Before six, you must come into the bedroom, and each
time you must ask us if we think one of the items of clothing you are wearing
is pretty - and you have to use that exact word." Marisa thought it was a
great idea. "And you may ask about only one item each time you come in - and
you have to show it to us." Laura continued, excited. "You must do it for
everything you are wearing - before six. Understand?" A lump appeared in his
throat. "But that....it's too...I'd be.." "Hush, Miss Denise. We're not doing
it to tease you. It's a good way to practice your voice, and we want you to be
reminded of everything you're wearing." He looked at the floor, conceding to
their demands. Laura winked at him, then took hold of Marisa's hand and led
her into the bedroom. The door closed, and Don was left to himself. He tried
to ignore the two women in the next room while he practiced walking in the
high heels, but periodically he heard a low moan from behind the closed door.
He covered the sound of their lovemaking by practicing his voice. He tried to
make his voice higher as he walked, his pantied bottom swishing back and forth
beneath his rustling skirts. He felt like a girl, and to his surprise, enjoyed
the feeling. He began imitating a sulky siren walk, aware of his garters and
breasts, and especially of his silky lace panties. He knew then that his wife
had succeeded; that he would be an obedient feminized slave to Marisa and her
lover!  

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