DOMestic Bdsm and Female Domination

The next night, after we were in bed, I started to caress her,
which, for some reason, annoyed her.

She sat up in bed and said, "You realize that expecting me to be
ready for sex whenever you are, and with no advance notice is
insensitive. You have done that as long as we've been married,
and it has always bothered me. Starting now, I will expect you
to make your intentions clear before we get in bed."

I wondered why she hadn't complained about it in all the years
we had been married, but didn't bring that up. I just asked,
"OK. How exactly am I supposed to do that?"

"We'll figure something out. But tonight I'm too tired."

She rolled over with her back to me, and that was the end of the
discussion.

The next night, while getting ready for bed, I said, "The night
before last was wonderful. Let's do it again tonight."

"You're right. It was great. Especially because you were so sexy
dressed in a panties, garter belt, hose, and heels. Put them on
again, and we'll have a repeat performance."

"Why? Why can't we do it without me wearing those things?"

"Because it really turns me on. I can't get excited about sex
unless you are dressed properly."

"I'm not sure there's anything proper about a man dressing like
that."

"Never-the-less, it's not as satisfying for me unless you are
dressed. If you really want me, you'll do it. Aren't I worth
it?"

Put that way, I couldn't say no. It seemed harmless, so I
relented and put on the garter belt, hose, and heels. Once
again, she released my erect member from the panties, but
insisted I keep my balls encased in nylon panties. The sex was
again fantastic.

The next morning she announced, "I just figured it out. You can
let me know you're in the mood by dressing in garter belt, hose,
and heels."

I told her I thought that idea was ridiculous, but she insisted.

Over the next few weeks, my "dressing properly" became a signal
that I wanted her. I discovered that it was the only way I was
going to get any. She was usually agreeable, but said no just
often enough that I couldn't be confident that it would work. Of
course, I had to lie on my back and let her be the aggressor

This became the pattern in our sex life, me on my back, in
garter belt, hose and heels, and with just my cock protruding
from the top of the panties, while my balls stayed inside them..
When I suggested returning to our old way of making love, she
told me how hot I was when dressed like that, and said she just
couldn't get interested in sex unless I was.

Being a man of my word, I wore panties whenever she asked me to.
However, when I agreed to do so, I didn't realize it would be
all the time. I could have argued that, since I had agreed to
wear panties while under duress, or under dress, it wasn't a
valid contract. But it wasn't a big deal; no one knew I was
wearing them, and it made her happy. I also always wore the
engagement ring, although frequently it "accidentally" got
turned around so the diamond didn't show.

She decided I looked much better as a result of the work-outs I
had started at ManTran and should keep them up. I continued to
run, but outside, not on a tread-mill. She signed me up for a
Pilates class, where I was the only man. She also looked for a
ballet class, but had trouble finding one for adults. My diet,
while not as restrictive as it had been, was designed to keep me
slim.

About two weeks after our trip a package arrived in the mail. It
was a photo album, supplied by ManTran as a part of the package
deal, for which I am still paying. She sat me down on the couch
with her to look at it. It was a complete photo record of our
trip, photos that I wasn't aware were being taken. It started
with shots in the airport with me in blouse, skirt and Mary
Janes. The last photos were me in the wedding dress and the pink
travel outfit.

I couldn't help notice the contrast between the first and last
photos; from the overweight, out-of-shape, balding, hairy-
legged, creature with masculine features, to the slim, feminine
appearance, with features softened by makeup and stylish hair-
do. As embarrassing as it had been, I had to admire the skill
involved in the transition.

The pictures in between showed all the gory details of my
transformation, on the plane, strapped into the seat, and
walking up the aisle, upside down in Pilates, with everything
exposed, in ballet, serving dinner, the V night episode, the
pantying ceremony, and the wedding, complete with my
deflowering. I told my wife I would be mortified if anyone saw
this album. She assured me it was for our viewing only.

A few months later, she woke me early and handed me a pair of my
old masculine underwear. I didn't know any still existed. They
were all mysteriously gone when we returned from our trip, along
with all my pajamas.

"Since it's your birthday, I want you to wear these. I want you
to be completely masculine today. In fact, take off your diamond
and leave it home. I don't want to see any trace of femininity
today".

I was ecstatic, and went off to work singing.

The day got even better when I walked in the door, and was
greeted with a big kiss by my wife, who was dressed in a
terribly sexy black negligee and heels. She handed me a martini
and led me to the dining room where the table was set for a
candlelight dinner for two. She served a gourmet meal complete
with a chilled bottle of champagne. She hates the stuff, so I
drank the entire bottle myself.

After dinner she announced that my birthday present was going to
be sex the old fashioned way with both of us naked and me on
top.

I thought, "It just doesn't get any better than this."

So, we got naked and went to bed. We kissed and caressed like
the old days. Unfortunately, in spite of all this foreplay, I
was completely unable to perform. I couldn't get an erection. I
finally gave up in frustration, and rolled over. She wrapped her
arms around me and was very understanding and cuddly.

"It's OK, dear. I've heard that happens to a lot of men, I'm
sure it's just temporary."

I wasn't convinced it was, "OK", and went to sleep.

I got up the next morning completely depressed. From force of
habit, I put on panties and got dressed. I didn't even think
about male underwear.

At breakfast, we discussed my problem.

"I don't understand what happened last night. It's never
happened before. I guess it could be just the effect of alcohol
that caused the problem. Or did you put something in the
champagne?"

That upset her.

"You think I would put something in the champagne to keep you
from getting it up? That's ridiculous," she yelled.

Then she calmed down a bit. "Maybe since, for months, sex has
been with you in panties, garter belt, hose, and heels, you
can't get excited without them."

"Now you're being ridiculous."

Then I had a thought. "Maybe we should try Viagra."

"Good idea. I'll buy some. You can wear your super short maid's
outfit."

Remembering the humiliation at ManTran, "That's not what I
meant."

As I got ready to leave for work, "Don't forget your ring,"
handing me the diamond, which I put on,

"Just what I need, one more symbol of my lack of masculinity."

She smiled and kissed me.

I had a miserable day at work. I spent the whole day thinking
about my impotence.

When I arrived home, I was greeted at the door with a kiss and,
"Look on the bed."

I walked into the bedroom, and found my matching black panties,
garter belt, hose, and heels laid out on the bed.

"I thought you might like to see if they will solve your little
problem."

"No. They won't help."

"OK. Have it your way."

At bed time I reconsidered. I stripped down to my panties, put
on the garter belt, hose and heels, and walked into the living
room to show my wife.

"I'm glad you came to your senses. You look so sexy dressed like
that, I can't keep my hands off you."

She kissed me passionately with her hand in my crotch. I got
instantly hard.

"Lie down on the bed and I'll be right there."

We, once again, had wonderful sex, with her in the proper
position, on top..

Afterwards, "Since the subject has come up, so to speak, I think
we should do a reprise of V night. The girls would enjoy seeing
you dressed."

"You want to let your friends know about me being dressed in
women's clothes?"

"Actually, they already know. They've seen pictures, and are
dying to see the real thing. They have been asking for a
reenactment of that night at ManTran."

"I thought you said that album wasn't going to be seen by anyone
but us."

"It hasn't been. Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you that the same
pictures are available on a web site generated by another
ManTran feminized husband."

"You mean those horrible pictures are available for anyone to
see?"

"No. Don't worry. You need to know the password to access them.
I just shared them with a few of my friends."

"Thanks a lot."

"You're welcome."

"I think we should talk about having a party, with you serving
drinks in your maid's dress and heels. The girls really want to
see you dressed. We don't have to do the short skirt and Viagra
thing."

"Absolutely not. I had no choice at ManTran, but I do here.
There is no way I'm going through that embarrassment again."

"That's too bad. It would be so much fun. You know, I've been
thinking about sharing the on line pictures with the women in
your office. But I'll make a deal with you. If you agree to
dress up and serve drinks at a party for my friends, I could be
persuaded not to let your co-workers in on your secret."

"That's blackmail. You would subject me to that embarrassment?"

"If that's what it takes, yes"

"You leave me no choice. OK, I'll do it."

"I thought you would. Let's do it a week from Saturday. I'll get
you an appointment at the beauty parlor."

"Why?"

"We want to do this right, and you need to get your hair done,
and a manicure. And, of course, waxing will make your legs look
so much sexier."