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Couples/goodgirl
Good Girls
This is a story I did a couple of years ago...it's entirely fiction,and
I would NOT want to meet the narrator...L.E.
My first wife,Betty,was what you'd call a nice girl--pretty,honey-blonde,
soft-spoken,dependable,reserved.Our love life wasn't much though...not what
I'd hoped for when we got married.She seemed to have inhibitions about any
but the most "normal" sex acts,and I couldn't get a handle on them.However,
sometimes she seemed to hesitate before saying no,and I eventually persuaded
her to tell me why.
It turned out that she'd had fantasies about doing all sorts of things,but
out of guilt she'd always envisioned them as happening to an alter ego who
she called Nita."Nita is a bad girl",she told me.
"Well..couldn't you be Nita for me in bed?" I asked her.
She shook her head."I'd still know I'm Betty",she said.I thought about that.
The next day I bought her a dark wig,since she'd told me Nita didn't look
like her."When you wear this wig,you're Nita",I told her.She hesitated,but
said she'd try it.
That night,after she undressed,she put the wig on.She looked at herself in
the mirror,psyching herself up.Then we had the best sex we'd ever had.After-
wards,she took the wig off,kissed me goodnight,and went to sleep.
We started doing this several nights a week.I learned more things about Nita.
Nita never ate her vegetables,Nita went to reform school,Nita used blue
language(Betty *never* did),Nita smoked(or so she told me;this was a real
surprise,since Betty had made me quit when we got married),Nita played with
herself--and didn't mind my watching.I liked going to bed with Nita.The
thought crossed my mind that if I could get her to sleep in the wig rather
than going back to being Betty after sex,I might be able to get sex out of
her in the mornings too.
Betty told me that she didn't have any sleepwear that would suit Nita...all
her nightgowns were at least knee-length,and Nita was something of an ex-
hibitionist.I got out a catalogue from a sexy-underwear place that Betty
had told me I was perverted for getting,and asked her to pick out something
for Nita.She selected a pair of crotchless panties and a peekaboo bra.We
ordered them,and after they came she began to be Nita all night.
Within a few months,she was Nita all night,every night.The more she did
things that Betty would never have dreamed of doing,the less she thought of
herself as Betty.She took to wearing plenty of cheap makeup,and I got her
a broader wardrobe of ultrasexy underwear.I took to thinking how I could
get her to spend even more time as Nita.
Every morning she would scrub and turn into trim,prim Betty;every night she
would change into her wig and blatant undies and become pouty,naughty Nita.
I decided to get her some clothes to wear around the house that would suit
Nita.My first try was less than successful;the clothes I got her were way
too sexy for Betty,but not vulgar enough for Nita.She had to tighten and
shorten and slit everything to make them right."You'll have to go out shop-
ping for yourself,Nita",I told her.She shook her head;that was too much for
her...yet.
Now that she had clothes to wear around the house,she became Nita around
dinnertime,and increasingly stayed Nita through breakfast.I noticed she got
a bit dirty at times."Nita never washes",she told me.
"Nita...you're not Betty.You should say 'I'",I corrected her.The less she
thought of being Nita as an act,the better she was at it.She accepted the
correction,and from then on we often showered together,with me washing her,
though she had to wash her wig and her hair separately.
After about six weeks,I finally got her to go out shopping with me as Nita
to get some more Nita-type clothes.Like before,the stuff I suggested to her
never seemed naughty *enough*.I was amazed at the transformation.Nita wore
ultra-short dresses,ultra-short hot pants,peekaboo blouses,net or seamed
stockings that she would keep wearing even with runs in them.When she wore
panties--about half the time--they would either be crotchless or she would
wet them and never mind the smell.Nita was still nervous outside the house,
though,and I decided to build her confidence.
After a while I brought home a pack of cigarettes.After she had become Nita,
I showed them to her."I know you smoke,Nita",I said,"but I've never seen
you do it.Wouldn't you like a cigarette?" She took one slowly.I lit it for
her,and lit up myself for the first time in a long while.It felt good.I
showed her how to smoke,and after a little while she got the hang of it.
I encouraged her every evening,and in a month Nita was smoking more than I
was.I grew to love the way she ripped the top off a pack and stuffed the
cigarettes into her stocking tops,occasionally lifting her skirt to take
one out and light it from one she'd smoked to the bottom,and the way she
insouciantly blew smoke in my face.I had to live with the way she used
*anything* for an ashtray...that was the way Nita was,cheap and dirty.Most
important,once she had the habit,her strong concepts of her Betty self as a
non-smoker and her Nita self as a smoker made her feel less at home being
Betty and more at home being Nita.We started going out together regularly,
and she won some wet T-shirt contests(the kind of place I went with Nita
was very different from the place I had gone with Betty).
That summer we went to a topless beach,but I noticed Nita was ill at ease.
She occasionally checked her wig.I asked her about it later,and she said
she was nervous about anyone who knew Betty recognizing her.I got some hair
dye and we colored her body hair to match her wig rather than the hair on her
head,but it didn't help much.I thought about the problem.
A week later I bought a wig that looked a lot like Betty's hair,and another,
redheaded wig.
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When Betty got home that day I showed them to her."This wig is
for Betty",I told her,"and this one is for Nita".
"But Nita--"
"Nita *shaves her head*",I said,adding an embellishment of my own to Nita's
naughtiness for the first time.
Betty gulped,but accepted my suggestion.She took off her clothes,and I led
her to a mirror.First with scissors,then with a razor,I carefully shaved her
bald.She looked with wonderment at her changed appearance.She had symbolical-
ly crossed the line from being Betty,who occasionally pretended to be "Nita"
for me,to being Nita,who occasionally pretended to be "Betty" for the out-
side world.A wig falling off could never reveal Nita as Betty,only Betty as
Nita.
Nita didn't wear the redheaded wig much,but since she had started occasion-
ally flashing people,she occasionally used it to change her appearance.
About this time,since Nita had told me pictures of her appeared in men's
magazines,I started taking some and sending them to tacky sexy-letters mag-
azines...PLAYBOY et al were too respectable for Nita.Some of them got bought.
Nita was delighted,but it embarassed Betty so much I saw even less of her.
Not long after this we moved.Although we were still in the same metropolitan
area,we had crossed a state line,which meant we needed new driver's licenses.
I asked Nita if she could drive,and readily fibbing up a history,she said
she had been hot-wiring cars since she was twelve.I challenged her to get a
license of her own rather than renewing Betty's.Nita went down to the motor
vehicle office and got a learner's permit,and then took her written and road
tests--she entertained me with stories of how the instructor made eyes at her
and she teased him.Soon Nita had her own driver's license with her picture
on it,and Betty's had expired,which meant she had to commute to work as Nita,
changing clothes and wig in a bathroom;I hardly ever saw Betty around the
house after that.Since her driver's license was such an important ID,Betty
transferred her bank accounts into Nita's name.
A couple of months later,we decided to take our vacations together in the
Bahamas.Nita rummaged through her things(she had far more clothes than Betty
did by now) and found an old passport of Betty's,but it had expired."I
don't want to take my vacation with Betty",I told her,"I want to take my
vacation with you." With her driver's license,her bank ID,and some fancy
ootwork,we managed to get Nita a passport.While in the Bahamas,she got her
name tattooed on her ass.
After we got back,we moved again,this time only a short distance.Betty had
introduced herself to the neighbors in the last place,and they had wondered
about us since they saw more of Nita than they did of Betty.In the new place
Nita was Nita to everybody,even if it grossed them out.In fact,Nita took very
few of her "Betty" things along on this move.
I had lunch with Betty a few times,just for variety,but now that I knew life
with Nita I didn't understand what I'd ever seen in her.She was so dull.
About this time Betty's brother,who had been ill in the hospital for many
years,took a turn for the worse.He was the only relative she had,and she
visited him often.Before long he died,and she had barely gotten over that
when her boss,who had been less than understanding of the situation,fired
her.Not wanting Nita to suffer over Betty's problems,I suggested that she
get a job herself.
After she won another wet T-shirt contest,she managed to get a job in a top-
less bar.It was just the kind of job that suited her.She was nervous at first
over the fact that she was expected not only to hustle cheap champagne but
be fondled and suck off customers for extra cash.I told her it was okay as
long as she told me about everything,steered clear of disease(Nita had her
own doctor now;Betty hadn't been to one since we moved),and gave me the
money.If I wanted to live with Nita,I had to live with the kind of woman Nita
was.I went to the bar often,not only watching Nita,but all the people watch-
ing her.I placed bets with myself over whether customers would ask her into
one of the private rooms.I was glad to see her become the most popular
"hostess" in the place.
Through a regular at the bar we learned about a private sex club and became
regulars there.Nita found a job at another topless bar that paid a little
better,and I managed not to let anyone there know she lived with me...as far
as they knew I was just another man who came to stuff tips in her G-string
and buy overpriced booze from her.
One day Nita told me a patron had asked if she could appear in an X-rated
movie he wanted to produce.After hearing that the man had a good record in
the field,I told her to do it.All the men who'd seen her bod in magazines
deserved a chance to see it on film,and those who'd seen her in the flesh
deserved a permanent record.
We went to California,where Nita did the movie and got offers to do several
more.The producer told us she was a real find,and paid to have her boobs
enlarged a bit,but Nita felt being a movie star didn't fit with her image as
a cheap slut,and decided to wait a few months at least before doing another
picture.
We went to Reno,and in the tackiest quickie-wedding chapel we could find,I
formally married my second wife,Nita.As we sped off in a rented convertible,
Nita reached under her saucy minidress,took off her panties and exuberantly
threw them out of the car.When we got home,I inserted a wedding ring in her
nipple.
We gave away the last of Betty's clothes,and buried her college diploma and
a few of her odds and ends in the back yard as a sort of funeral.There really
wasn't any reason to have her around any more.
I love life with Nita.She's my kind of girl.
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