Tuesday, March 1, 2016

Another mock Apron Strings story

"I had bought my husband's first lingerie after deliberate planning," Nora says, "It took a lot of convincing before he first put it on. But after he wore the teddies, there was no going back. Today, he is my feminized lover, and my mother's maid!"

Nora watched her husband gingerly walk into the living room.
“I’m wearing the underwear you wanted me to wear,” he said, “But I’m not taking off my clothes.”
Nora was seething with impatience, but she managed to hold back her emotions.
“How do I know you’re not lying?” she said.
“Would I lie to you,” John replied meagerly.
He was right, Nora thought, he would not risk lying about this.
“Show me just a strap, then,” she said.
“Don’t you believe me?” John asked, quietly.
“I believe you, honey,” Nora replied, “But I want to see.”
With his eyes averted, John slowly tugged at the hem of his sweater until a single black elastic strap appeared, running up his shoulder.
Nora licked her lips. She could feel the heat inside her. John, too, could see that his wife was getting excited. Worried that it might already be too late, he felt he needed to get out the underwear Nora bought for him as soon as possible.
“Now that you’ve seen, I’m going up to the bedroom and change into my regular underwear,” he said.
“You’ll do no such thing,” Nora hissed.
“It doesn’t make me feel sexy at all,” John weakly protested, “It just makes me feel silly.”
“We’ve been through this!” Nora snapped, “I work, you stay at home. I support you, and you cook and clean.”
“This was what you wanted,” John bitterly replied, thinking back on how his wife forced him to resign from his job.
“Exactly,” Nora said thickly, “You do what I want. You wear the underwear I want and now, you’re going to take off your clothes and show your pretty undies to me.”
John started at her for a moment too long.
“I’m bigger and stronger than you,” she said chillingly, “I will pull your clothes off myself if I have to.”
“Can you at least look away while I strip?” he asked, defeated.
Wordlessly, Nora turned around. She could only wait for a few short moments until the urge to look was too strong for her. Her husband was now standing before her, dressed only in black satin teddies, lavishly ornamented with black lace, and 15 denier black pantyhose on his slim, hairless legs. Breathing heavily, she realized there was still something missing from the picture. Shoes!
“Put these on,” she said hoarsely as she kicked her black high heeled court shoes to him.
John didn’t want to put on his wife’s shoes, but her excitement frightened him into perfect obedience. The shoes felt hot and moist with sweat on his feet, and made him worry what Nora might do next.
“Come here,” she hissed thickly.
“Let’s talk about this, Nora, please,” he whimpered, backing away from the couch she was sitting on.
Nora could wait no longer. In a split second, she stood up, grabbed her husband and manhandled him on the couch. Greedily, she covered his lips with hers and forced her tongue as deep into his mouth as she could. Her hands groped at his satin and nylon covered flesh.
“Nora, please,” he said again, trying to push her away.
“Stop it, you love this!” she said, slapping his hand away, then kissed him again.
Her hand found its way onto his crotch and fondled his erection.
“Tomorrow, you’ll put on a blouse,” she said in his ear.
“Nora…” he pleaded, but could help pushing his midriff against her hand.
“Say it,” she hissed.
“I’ll wear what you want me to wear,” he moaned.
“Say you’ll wear a blouse!” she hissed.
“I’ll wear a blouse,” he whispered.
“And you’ll wear a dress!” Nora said, “And high heels!”
Frantically, she hiked up the skirt of her dress, pulled down her panties, undid her husband’s teddies and straddled his erection.
“Say it!” she demanded.
“I’ll wear… a… dress…” he gasped, “…and… high… heels…”
Victoriously, Nora arched her back as wave upon wave of climax shook her body.

Impatiently, Nora glanced at her watch, then she looked at her husband who was cleaning up the kitchen after lunch. He was wearing an old dress of hers, and white court shoes with a three inch heel, however Nora was not excited anymore. For the past week, all of the clothes she had chosen for John were met with only token resistance. In a way, it made sense. Once he had accepted the idea of wearing women’s clothes, the actual clothes didn’t make much difference any more. Whether it was a dress in the kitchen or a nightie in bed, John seemed less and less embarrassed and Nora’s excitement was more and more diminished.
Finally, the doorbell rang.
Her feminized husband froze in fear.
“That must be mummy,” Nora said, “Get the door.”
“Please, not like this?” John pleaded, but Nora’s unrelenting gaze told him he better did as he was told.
As usually, Martha was wearing one of her silk dresses that bulged with her flesh around the waist, but mostly with her massive breasts.
“Hello, John,” she said and pulled him into his embrace.
John could feel tears of shame trickle down his face as his mother-in-law dragged him along to the living room.
“Mummy is here to take you shopping for a new dress,” Nora declared.
“Please, Nora,” John cried, “I’ll do anything but this.”
The women ignored his pleads.
“He can wear my old wig,” Martha said.
“No!” John wailed.
“Listen!” Nora shouted at him, “Mummy is taking you out to buy you a dress. First of all, show some gratitude. But more importantly, you can either go with her looking like a man in a dress, or like a proper woman.”
Martha picked John up in her hands and carried him to the bedroom. Nora followed them, sensing her mother’s excitement. Martha sat down on the edge of the bed and held John until he stopped crying. Then, she sat him by the vanity table and put a long auburn wig on his head.
“I’ll be buying you more than just one dress,” she said to her son-in-law as she started doing his makeup.
“Mummy is right,” Nora said, “You can’t keep wearing my clothes forever.”
“You need at least a couple of dresses,” Martha said, “Some skirts and blouses, too. And pinafores.”
“Pinafores?” John asked weakly.
“For when you come to visit me,” Martha slyly replied, “And a nightdress for tonight!”

Nora left her mother to finish her husband’s makeup alone. In the privacy of the bathroom, she unwrapped a parcel and took out a strap-on dildo. Curiously, she put it on and admired her reflection in the mirror. She would wear it when her mother brought John home from their shopping expedition. And then she would use it on him. In bed!


Anonymous said...

Could we just get back to Swiss Miss Sissy, please?

rocketdave said...

Anonymous, I'm glad you're liking "Swiss Miss Sissy" and I apologize for taking longer than usual to upload the next chapter, but there's absolutely no need to be rude about other people's contributions to this blog. I normally welcome someone showing appreciation for Bambi's writing- we get so little praise- but Id rather you didn't comment at all if you're going to do it at the expense of another writer's feelings.

Rosie, I've mostly been enjoying your recent postings (including this one) and I hope you don't let one insensitive individual discourage you from posting here.

Carrie P said...

Hi Rosie
Just read your three recent AS/PP type stories. I really enjoy all your stories and this comment is strictly about the Scenes from Family Life and not your other writings – which are marvellous.

I’m with Dave on this one, men in this genre even if they have only a peripheral role tend to terminate my interest in a story but it has forced me to confront the question as to why I feel this way. I’ve been trying to figure it out but still haven’t come up with a satisfactory answer other than it just makes me feel uncomfortable even if there is absolutely no hint of a sexual relationship. Maybe I’m less open minded than I thought but the more I think about it I feel it could be that in these scenarios I tend to inhabit the male character and the last thing I want – even if it is only fiction - is to have such a humiliating experience in front of another male. That would be my worst nightmare.

Of course this is only my personal preference and I’m sure many readers will have a different view after all to date 11 people (which is quite a decent response for this blog) have indicated their desire to read more of our hero in similar circumstances.

Having said all that I also agree with Dave that it certainly was different and I recognise it’s good to have my preferences challenged now and then.

One last thing – I was dismayed and saddened to read the first comment in this section. I really don’t understand why he felt the need to post this at all but to post it here and not under the SMS story is incredibly disrespectful to both authors. SMS may not to be my taste( I wasn’t a fan of Bea’s original either) but it is undeniably a very well written story and Bambi has put a lot of work into it, as indeed has Dave with his wonderful art. It takes a lot of time and effort to create any piece of fiction and to display such disregard for a writer’s endeavour is not only disrespectful but offensive.

This was the first uncivil and nasty comment I have read on this blog and I hope it will be the last.

Rosie, please don’t let this discourage you from posting further stories, you are a very talented writer and this blog would be a poorer place without your wonderful pieces.

Ps Almost forgot to mention your latest post is a classic example of an AP story, wonderful -really enjoyed it.

Anonymous said...

What an over-sensitive bunch you lot are - I only asked a question!

rocketdave said...

"Only asked a question"? That's the exact same lame excuse that asshole Glenn Beck uses for maligning others.

Rosie has nothing to do with Swiss Miss Sissy, so why would you ask about Swiss Miss Sissy under one of her posts unless you were hoping to also convey your lack of interest in Rosie's contributions to this blog? As Carrie suggested, if your sole intention was to inquire about that story with no ulterior motive, it would have made far more sense to leave a Swiss Miss Sissy-related comment under one of the Swiss Miss Sissy posts.

I find the claim that you were merely asking a question to be completely disingenuous, but if I were to give you the benefit of the doubt and imagine for a second that you honestly can't see how your comment might have been read as disrespectful, then that would make you clueless, at best.

Either way, the proper move would be to apologize for causing offense, accidental or otherwise. Instead, you've chosen to double down on your boorishness by attacking Carrie and myself.

I was going to post the next chapter of Swiss Miss Sissy pretty soon, but now you can wait another week, and if I see any more rude comments, the waiting time can easily be extended even further.

The contributors to Bea's TV Station put a lot of their own time and effort into providing this blog's followers with free entertainment. You may not like every post or wish some of us were better at sticking to a regular posting schedule, but it shows a real lack of gratitude to completely dismiss one author's work while simultaneously making impatient demands of another author.

Anonymous said...

"I was going to post the next chapter of Swiss Miss Sissy pretty soon, but now you can wait another week, and if I see any more rude comments, the waiting time can easily be extended even further."
I'm so bothered...

Rosie Petals said...

Dear Dave and Carrie,

I can see your point, and I'm not writing the father stuff to offend, shock or gross out anyone. Like I have written in Bea's in memoriam - not everything turns everyone on. Couple of years ago, I might have felt the same way as you about this topic, but now... I don't know what has changed, if anything has changed at all, but I'm not going to spend too much time worrying about it. If it excites me, I'll write it. I spend enough time being hung up about reality, I can at least give my fantasies a free ride. Like my late grandmother always said: haters gonna hate, masturbators gonna masturbate.

Anonymous said...

OK, OK, Rocket, you win - I’m really sorry for acting like such a moron. Now will you please post the next chapter? Pleeeeeeaaassse?

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