And here's Rosie's 'Bit'. Aren't these GREAT?
Sunday, November 27, 2011
My Serial - and a new bit from Rosie
For sure though, Chris was now the dominant force in our marriage. She didn't beat me up, or anything like that – well she did spank me once, but it was more foreplay than anything else. I found it strangely exciting if the truth be known. It just seemed that, one night, I realized that I was now deferring to her opinion in most things – and that she expected me to be subservient to her! I also noticed that she became very considerate of me, opening doors for me, ordering for me in restaurants - as well as paying the bill. Looking back, I see that, as she became more and more self-confident, I became more and more submissive.
One night at home though, she seemed strangely nervous. "You know, dear .. You've been doing very well in the cooking, and looking after the house - maybe I've boasted a little too much ...? But I may have got myself into a corner and now I've something to ask?"
I couldn't help but blush with pleasure at the compliments "Who have you been boasting to?" I asked shyly.
She sighed. "I'm afraid.. Mrs.. Morgan, and Marjory Thorn"
I was really complimented. "Mrs.. Morgan? .. The new owner?"
She nodded, ruefully - then took a deep breath "I've invited them to dinner on Friday evening. Please say you don't mind?"
"Oh. My goodness!" I said, my heart fluttering "What do you want me to make .. what? .. that's not very much time .. Oh dear!"
She laughed sympathetically. "Don't get all flustered and dithery dear. It's not really that big a deal, and you've got three days to prepare. I would have given you more time, but somehow I got inveigled into it. I was going to take them out to a nice dinner, but Mrs. Morgan insisted."
"Maybe not a big deal for you" I retorted "But what would they think if..."
She interrupted "That's the important thing I'm afraid .. What they will think."
"I don't understand" I said.
"Well... It's very difficult to explain and, to be quite honest, I'd rather not even try .. but would you have a major problem with wearing a nice apron in front of them? I know you have nice ones – but I'd like you to wear an especially nice one. I need to show you off!" she said winningly.
I gulped. "Doesn't exactly give me a warm fuzzy feeling, but I've been wearing one so long now .. well, I guess I could."
She smiled "Wow! That's great!" She stood up suddenly "I already bought one specially for the occasion. Let me go get it and you can try it on."
I started to get a feeling of dread. The feeling wasn't helped when she returned, holding out a full skirted, white apron, with full straps - frilled along the edges of course, and wide, frilled ties to match. She held it out to me. "Isn't this lovely? Why don't you try it on? See how it looks on. Bet that it makes you look pretty!"
I backed off a step. "Oh Chris! That's really kinda effeminate, don't you think?"
She grimaced "Well, maybe .. But honest, I've got a reason. I will explain. Honest. Please try it on? Please?"
And I stepped into it. She fastened the skirt at the back with some kind of hooks and eyes, then tied the shoulder straps and the side ribbons behind me, into a full bow.
"But it's like a dress!" I complained. "The skirt's so long that you can barely tell if I'm wearing pants."
"You look just fine." She said, "But let's try this as well."
She reached into one of the apron pockets, and pulled out something, lacy and white. Before I could even come close to stopping her, she had put it on my head, and seemed to be tying a ribbon or something. I started to
"Be still! Would you! I'll just be a minute" she said impatiently "I want you to look nice! Don't you want that too?".
I couldn't see what she was doing, but knew it was some kind of cap. I sighed but stood nice and docile and let her finish.
She finished tying whatever it was, then I felt her pull some of my hair out from under the cap, onto my brow. She positioned it lightly with her fingers, then stepped back, her face flushed and a kind of excitement glinting in her eyes.
"Told you!" She said huskily. "You look just fine!"
When she stepped back, I could see my reflection in the mirror – dressed in a maid's apron and matching lace cap. Some tendrils of hair had been pulled down and had been arranged, quite prettily, on my forehead.
"See! Don't tell me you don't look nice" she dared me to disagree - "and that was with very little time to do anything to you. By the time Friday rolls around, you'll feel much more comfortable in it. I'll help make
your hair a little nicer - and you know you'll feel better when you look better. You won't have any trouble at all!"
"But if I'm going to be cooking in it, it'll just get all dirty" I said, still hoping against hope to convince her.
"Oh! I don't expect you to cook in it" she replied airily "I thought you could have the dinner pretty well ready before they came. You can use one of your other aprons for the dirty work."
"But then .. What would I use it for, then?" I thought it was a sensible question, but found myself getting very nervous as her expression grew impatient.
"Why, for taking their coats and bags as they came in, serving up drinks, and the meal, and then cleaning up. Once you've finished all that, you can take it off if you want - and I wouldn't care if it's dirty by then. They're not gonna see it by that time, and - it's washable, right?"
"I'm not going to spend much time with the Marjory .. I mean .. Miss Thorn, or Mrs. Morgan then, am I?" I felt I should complain though I felt quite comfortable with the idea.
She got the uncomfortable look back on her face. "That's true .. Yes, I'd say that's very true. In fact, to be quite honest, this dinner is more of an upper management meeting than anything else, so... I wasn't intending to have you.. eh .. interact with the guests much at all"
It finally hit me. "But you want me to.." I started, when what she was really saying dawned on me. "You just want me to be a maid!" I gasped.
She looked me straight in the eyes, then shrugged. "That's right" she sighed, then said quietly. "It may sound cruel, but I couldn't say it better myself. That's exactly what I want you to be. No sense in fooling around, is there? "
I felt the flush rising up my neck, and suffusing my face. "But I'm your husband, Chris!"
"..And that's why!" She said, excited. "That's exactly why! Don't ask me how I know, but I know for sure! Mrs. Morgan believes that her executives should have a.. a .. charisma a natural tendency to boss their spouses, that carries over, even into their homes. She doesn't really like men at all. If she sees that I.. we. .you..."
"Do as I'm told?" I asked bitterly.
"That's it! If she sees that I .. control.. you. Then she knows that I have what it takes to be one of her top managers."
She paused, and took a deep breath. "Alex. This can help us. If you were one of these big, macho, guys? Well, we wouldn't be here in the first place. But you're not! You're nice, and soft, and sweet. I love you! You've never been all hung up with what 'guys' do, or what they don't. They've been treating you more and more like a girl at work, and you don't complain - Please! Please! Do this for me. For us!" She came forward and gently took a hold of my apron bib and pulled me in.
"You have been treating me as if I were a girl as well!" I said sulkily.
She smiled genuinely, "Yes I do, don't I? Can you blame me?"
At that point shedidn't wait for my answer, just pulled me forward, and kissed me. As usual, I felt myself weaken. I did continue to argue, with less and less conviction, but she was stroking my apron now, the confidence growing in her eyes. Finally I spoke weakly.
"Well...it's only for a couple of hours.." I conceded.
"Right!" She said, grinning now, sensing my surrender "Just a little while. Hardly any time at all."
"..And no other surprises!" I pretended to growl but knew I was just kidding.
"Well... just a little thing" she purred, stroking my thigh under the skirt of the apron.
"Oh, please Chris" I complained weakly, as she drew me in for another kiss. This lasted for quite a while. Then she pulled on my ears until my lips were off her mouth, and giggled softly.
"Mmm.. You wouldn't mind ..ahem.. dropping a little curtsey now and then?"
Her hand had found my erection, and she was starting to lift the skirt of the apron to get to me, pushing me down onto the couch at the same time. "It would look so cute!"
"Uh..no..Chris..uh..no." I pleaded, incoherently, as my pants were being unzipped. "Please don't ask.. Please, no curtseying, eh? Please? I know now that you want me to look like a maid. But curtseying?"
"But what would Mrs.. Morgan think if I had a maid that didn't curtsey when she was spoken too?" She cooed, having worked my pants and underpants down, "and didn't you just agree to be the maid for the night?. Eh? Now you don't want to be breaking your promises, do you? Get Chris mad enough to spank you as if she was Marjory? Hurt your soft little bottom?""
The skirt of my apron was up over my head, my pants were down, and she was now straddling me, riding up and down on my erection. Sometime during the next five minutes or so, I agreed that curtseying wouldn't be so difficult.
"Promise now?" she coaxed.
"Nice, deep curtseys! Like a proper maid?"
"Is that what you want me to do?"
"Yes. And you'll be SO good! Won't you?"
Lying in her arms after the sex, I found myself also sleepily agreeing that it wouldn't look too good if I forgot to curtsey at any time - and yes, it might be appropriate for me to start practicing right away - only at home of course - but curtseying when she spoke to me, and addressing her as "Miss". (She laughed happily as she suggested this. "I might just keep you doing it – it sounds so nice to me!" she cackled.)
I've said that the change had been slow and gradual. It HAD been, but at this point in time, it started to accelerate. The following night, she taught me to curtsey. Though the apron I wore wasn't the new one of the night before, it was a new and more effeminate version of my earlier ones.
"I want you in a fuller apron" she explained "Pretty ones. Your other ones are too masculine and too tight to the body to let me see if you're curtseying properly. Now, let's get started..."
And I learned how and when, to drop deep curtseys, and when to do a simple 'bob'. How to smile (nicely), but keep my eyes downcast and, at all times to respond with 'Yes maam' or 'Yes miss'. She was really surprised at how quickly I learned but was also adamant that I learn to 'flounce' my apron at all times as I walked - "Just a little, but honestly, it looks so nice! I mean I'm only kidding when I say I want you to act like maid – you ARE my husband after all – but a little flounce never hurt anyone, did it? And like I thought? You look so cute"
I haven't mentioned it, but she'd started criticizing my haircuts some months earlier on. She had an ex-worker of hers, Flora, come around once a month to do her hair, and had finally coerced me into trying her as well. Flora was a skilled hairdresser, there was no question about that, but at Chris's requests, my hair had gradually been let grow longer and longer, which made my hair more and more difficult to fix in any semblance of a masculine style. I can't say it was a woman's style, but the additional length was forcing my hair to fall down the sides of my face in what was definitely a 'softer' look. Some of the girls in the carpool had actually asked me who my hairdresser was.
On the Thursday night before the dinner party, Chris had Flora come to work on both of us. As Chris's generally took longer, and I had some work I wanted done, it was agreed that I'd go first.
"Getting a little long, Flora" I said, settling into the chair, as she buttoned the cape around me. "Cut it back some, would you?"
Chris overheard this, and walked over to the chair. She gently pulled some of my hair out to its full length.
"That's so silly Alexis!" She said "You've got nice hair. I don't think it's long enough yet. Another couple of inches and it'll look really pretty!"
"You're getting your genders mixed up Chris!" Burning a little from the 'Alexis' she'd used in front of Flora. "I don't think you meant 'pretty'"
Flora spoke "Well Chris, I can see what he's getting at. It's getting kinda hard to control at this length. With a girl, right now, I'd suggest a light wave and set, but" She laughed. " You DID say pretty you know!"
"What's wrong with the word pretty, then?" Chris asked, getting aggravated a little.
"I'd have to put rollers in if you want it to be nice." Flora said, confused, but I could see her reflection in the mirror, and she was starting to grin.
"That's what I want!" Chris said firmly. "And while you're at it? Why don't you give him a shampoo? - And could you brighten up his hair a shade or two while you're at it? Then you can set it. I want it to look nice!" Chris said, in an no-nonsense tone and staring at me, as if waiting for me to argue..
When I stayed silent, Flora just hummed to herself as she set about doing my hair. Later, my hair up in rollers, and tied with a blue chiffon scarf, Flora showed me how to take the rollers from Chris's hair, and brush it out.
"Yours needs a bit more firming up." She said, "So sleep with the rollers in. Don't brush it out until just before you go to work, but do it the way I'm showing you just now. I think it'll turn out nice." Then she added with a grin "Pretty too!"
The next morning, I was crying in front of the mirror. Chris heard me, and got up from bed. "What's the matter dear? Don't tell me Flora made a mess of your hair?"
"I look just like a girl!" I sobbed "Look!"
She hunkered down beside where I sat at the dressing table, and put her arm around my shoulders. She smiled.
"Well. It's not.. exactly.. masculine.. But you heard me ask Flora last night – and you didn't complain. So what's this all now?" She tried not to, but giggled a little. "Must admit that it is a little unusual on you – but it really is nice. A little time and you'll get used to it. Just wait and see!"
I twirled one of the blonde curls that came over my ears, but couldn't help tearfully laughing at what she'd said and the way she'd said it.. "You got that right, sister!" And managed a little giggle of my own.
She laughed with me. "C'mon dear. That's better. Dry your eyes now, and get ready for work. Make sure you wear a cap in the shower."
"I'm not going to work like this!" I said firmly.
"Oh, come on now" she moaned. "I'm not going to fight with you at this time in the morning..."
"I'm not going!" I repeated. "If I have to? I'm going to wash this out.."
"Oh NO you're not!" she said. "I think I've put up with enough nonsense from you!"
And I put up my very last battle with Chris. It actually got physical to the point that we struggled against each other. The ending came about quickly. I looked in her eyes and saw the amused confidence there and, at the same time, could see my soft white arms as I struggled against her. Finally I realized the futility of what I was doing. "Can we talk, Chris?" I asked.
"Maybe! After I spank you!" She was laughing now at the ease with which she was putting me over her knee.
"Now admit this sweetie!" she grinned as she positioned me on her lap.
"That you're being spanked for being naughty – and . " Here she snorted. "That it's good for you!"
And over her knees while being spanked, I admitted through my tears that I had been naughty - a naughty 'girl' I had to add and thoroughly deserved to be spanked.
Okay. I didn't win - but I didn't lose altogether. I didn't have to go to work that day, but I had to keep my hair in the way that Chris wanted until Sunday night at least. I called Annie and told her I wouldn't make it in that day, and asked her to tell my boss and my group for me. I think that both Chris and I were now well aware that I was the weaker of us two. She made quite a point of kissing me goodbye that morning – making sure that I took the female role. After she'd spanked me it became even more obvious.
End of part 3
And here's Rosie's 'Bit'. Aren't these GREAT?
And here's Rosie's 'Bit'. Aren't these GREAT?
Time passed quickly as I dusted the house. Matter of fact, I had just finished and decided to pick up the magazines my wife left lying all over the living room floor. As I bent down to the floor, I suddenly felt a hand grope my ass under my skirt. Terrified, I shrieked and turned around. There she was, grinning like a cat who ate the canary.
“Sorry honey, didn’t mean to startle you,” my wife said.
“Well you did. I didn’t hear you come in,” I replied.
And I could tell why – she had taken her shoes off. Still, even in my three and a half inch heels I fell an inch or two short of her barefoot height.
“Been good?” she asked me, wrapping her arms about my waist.
“Of course I have,” I replied.
I squealed again, this time with delightful surprise when she picked me up in her arms and carried me to the bedroom.
“Since you’ve been such a good boy the last few weeks, I thought we’d do something special today,” she softly whispered in my ear.
“Really? What?” I breathed, still clinging to her, even after she had put me down on the bed.
“The thing I do to you? I thought maybe I’d let you do it to me,” she said, blushing.
“You sure?” I asked her, my mind racing with excitement.
“Mm-hmm. Just let me, you know – “she stopped talking and dropped her cream colored pants. Stepped out of them and went to the bathroom. She returned in a couple of minutes, surprisingly still with her panties and stockings on.
“So, where do you want me?” she asked.
I had to laugh at this. My strong willed, forceful wife, who single handedly got me into skirts, suddenly so scared and helpless and vulnerable.
“Come here, honey,” I said, stretching my arm out to her, “lie down next to me.”
I watched as she timidly climbed to bed beside me. I kissed her, then rolled her over her side and snuggled into her back. She let out a soft gasp and stiffened.
“Relax, honey,” I breathed in her ear and started rubbing her tummy through her blouse. When I felt she had calmed down a bit, I reached under the silky garment and caressed her breast. Slowly, I slid my hand down again, over her belly this time, right into her panties. She was already excited and I didn’t need to spend too much time down there.
“Let’s get these off,” I said and she lifted her hips to help me pull down her panties.
“Aren’t you going to get undressed too?” she asked.
“Shh, honey, relax,” I said again and played with her moistness some more. After a while, I started sliding down her back, hiking up my skirt as I did so. When my groin was finally level with hers, I pulled my own panties down as well. I felt her stiffen again as my erection touched her buttocks. Slowly, I probed her ass with my finger, made sure that she had lubricated her well enough. I arched my hips backwards a little then began moving back forward, slowly entering her.
She sighed in pain, but I was too excited to whisper soothing words to her. Instead, I moaned with lust as she tightly clasped my shaft. In a while the tension eased up and the pain in her cries was replaced by pleasure. I was steadily thrusting in and out, with my hands running between her breast and her crotch. When I felt I wouldn’t be able to last much longer, I pressed my cheek to her back and thrust myself in her as far as I could. With her soft buttocks against my groin, she shrieked as I filled her with wave after wave of hot semen. I rested for a few moments before I pulled out of her, then rolled over on my back, delightfully exhausted.
“How did you like it?” I asked her after she had come back from the bathroom.
“It hurt at first, I can’t deny it,” she said, “and I wondered why in the world did you let me do this to you night after night. But after a while, I found out why.”
Now it was my turn to blush. I got out of bed, rearranged my skirt and tucked my blouse back in to cover my embarrassment.
“Hey,” she gripped my arm as I headed for the door, “where do you thing you’re going?”
“I was just – “ I began, wiggling joyfully as her other hand found its way under my skirt.
“We’re not done here,” she said and let me go. Then she handed me her dildo.
“Strap this on me, will you?” she said, “But first, freshen your make up. And maybe use that pink lipstick instead.”