DOMestic Bdsm and Female Domination

A week or two later she found a pair of black women's lace-up
oxfords. These had a definite feminine shape to them with a
pointed toe and a one inch narrow heel. She accompanied me to
the store to try them on, and insisted I buy them, and wear them
out of the store.

About the same time, she found some "Mary Janes for men"
advertised on line, and bought me a pair. They were wide and
heavy, like men's shoes, but had an instep strap and were
definitely Mary Janes. They reminded her of the original pair of
real Mary Janes I wore that first day at the airport and on the
plane. So she had me dig them out of my closet and add them to
the list of acceptable shoes.

She insisted I wear one of these pairs of shoes to work every
day, and any other time I was out of the house. The girls at
work used to try to guess which shoes I would wear each day.
There were even rumors of a betting pool. Thus, even though I
wore shirts and slacks to work, the shoes definitely fit the
feminine mold.

The day of my next Pilates class, she had me paint my finger
nails and toe nails pink. She added additional padding to my
pink bra, and made me put it on, along with the pink panties,
then the pink top and pink skirt. Anticipating her next move, I
got both the pink running shoes and pink ballet slippers out,
and asked her which she preferred.

"Nice try, but the answer is neither. I think your pink heels
will look nice with that outfit."

I objected, and, of course, got zapped, and wound up wearing the
heels. She also applied light makeup, pink eye-shadow, and
lipstick that matched the nail polish.

On the way to Pilates, we stopped at a sporting goods store. She
announced to the clerk that I needed a running bra. The clerk
looked shocked, but soon recovered. She pulled out a tape
measure.

"Hold your arms out to the side."

That command brought back embarrassing memories, but I did as I
was told. She measured me around the chest.

"The only bras we have in his size are black. Is that OK?"

"I think black will be fine. It will provide contrast with his
pink top."

I was led into a dressing room, and told to remove my top and
bra, which I did. After I had the black running bra on, The
clerk said, "He's kind of flat-chested, isn't he? I recommend he
wear his padded bra under the running bra so he looks more like
a woman."

"Good idea."

So I put the pink bra back on and the black running bra over it.

"I would also like to see some tops more appropriate for
Pilates."

I soon had a low cut, lacy, skimpy pink top with a bare midriff
on over the bras. It didn't even come close to hiding the black
bra.

"That's better. How about pants that match the top?, and he
needs a singlet to run in, something that will show off his
bra."

The clerk left and returned with a pair of pink pants, and a
pink singlet.

"Take your skirt off."

After I removed my skirt, "Oh, those are pretty pink panties.
You're lucky your wife lets you wear them."

Yeah, right.

With difficulty, I managed to squeeze into the pants and get
them zipped. They looked like they had been painted on. The
singlet was also tight.

"Those are the largest we have in stock, but I could order
larger sizes if you prefer."

"No, I think those are just right. We want them to be tight to
show off his body."

"There seems to be a bulge in his crotch. Is he excited?"

"No, that's just a device that helps to control him. If he did
get excited, I would use it would reduce the swelling quickly.
It also works to correct him when necessary."

She pushed a button, and I was on the floor.

"My, that is effective. I'd like to have one for my boyfriend.
Where can I get one of those?"

My wife handed her a ManTran card.

On our way out of the store, my wife spotted a shocking pink
Pilates mat. She decided I needed one.

We arrived at Pilates just as the class was about to start. The
women were all seated on mats on the floor. When I walked in
wearing the skirt, new tight pink top, with the black bra
showing, and heels, the instructor noticed me, and said, "Well,
what do we have here?"

My wife, who had followed me into the room, "He wanted to show
off his new outfit."

"It's lovely. Come up here and let us all see it."

"I can't do that."

I got zapped, and heard, "Do it, or I'll take your pretty pink
panties away. Is that what you want?"

Without thinking, I responded, "No, Mistress," which got a laugh
from the class.

"Oh, you have a pretty pink mat. Bring it up here. I saved you a
place right in front of me."

The spot in front of the instructor was usually avoided because
it was the center of attention. I had to walk carefully in the
heels to the front of the room through all the women, who, of
course, had comments to make.

"Oh, aren't you sweet? You're wearing make-up and pink nail
polish. I like that. Raise your skirt and show us your panties."

I did and got whistles and catcalls.

"Take your pretty heels off, and let's get to work."

Of course, exposing my painted toe nails brought more comments.
I was the center of attention throughout the class, particularly
when my body position was such that my panties were exposed.

The next time I ran, my wife had me dress in the short pink
skirt, pink panties, lacy white petti pants, that hung below the
bottom of the skirt, jog bra, much of which was visible, and
pink singlet. Every woman I encountered noticed and commented on
my appearance.

The following week my wife announced that she had found an adult
ballet class for me. We went shopping in a dance store, where
she told the clerk I was going to start taking a class. The
clerk was very helpful, and inquired where the class was. I
tried on and bought a leotard, tights, and a tutu, all pink, of
course. She also decided the ballet shoes I had weren't good
enough. I needed toe shoes. Of course I had to model everything
in the store, which was full of women and girls.

The day of the class, I again had make-up and fingernail polish
applied. She also did something to pile my hair on top of my
head, incorporating the hair piece.

Unlike Pilates, where the instructor and other class members
knew me, the ballet class was all strangers, or so I thought.
Then I recognized the instructor. She was the dance store clerk
who had sold me the outfit I was wearing. She hadn't said
anything to me in the store, but I sensed that she may have
confided in my wife, and warned the class to expect me. Again, I
created a sensation, which was another humiliating experience.

My wife decided that two weeks of training wasn't enough, so we
continued this routine beyond that. During that time, I slept on
the floor with bound arms attached to the foot of her bed. There
was no sex, except I received the dildo weekly.

Finally, after a month, she sat me down, at her feet, and asked
if I had learned my lesson and would behave properly if she
removed the ball ring.

I, of course, said, "Yes, Mistress."

"I certainly hope so. If you backslide again, you will go to
work and everywhere else in a dress and heels. All your male
clothing will disappear. I will let the girls at the beauty
parlor do the permanent make-up on you. I also will make our
dildo sessions public."

Since I now knew she had the power to do all that, and wouldn't
hesitate, I replied, "Please don't do that. I'll do whatever you
want."

She had me stand and raise the skirt of my maid's dress. She
unlocked, and removed the ball ring.

"I hope we don't need this again."

"So do I, Mistress."