Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/T/TVHUSB.TXT

Text File | 1988-11-18 | 49.9 KB | 1,087 lines

                       OBEDIENT TV HUSBAND


Don  sat quietly in the well-appointed waiting room.  It was all
furnished in authentic French Provincial antiques,  he  noticed.
This  must  be one of the more successful marriage counselors in
town.

He had never heard of this woman, but Don's wife Marisa had said
she  was  widely  known  as one of the area's leading experts in
certain types of marital disharmony.

Thinking  back,   Don  couldn't  exactly   remember   when   the
difficulties  between  he  and Marisa had begun.  Of course,  he
realized that at 30,  he was three years younger than his  wife.
But  lately  it seemed that his wife had lost much of the warmth
and affection that had attracted him when they  met,  over  five
years before.

It seemed that Marisa spent as much or more of her free time now
with her girlfriends,  especially Laura who lived two apartments
down the hall.  Laura seemed to be  there  in  the  morning  for
coffee  and almost every night -- often staying for dinner.  Don
and Marisa just didn't seem to have their own life together.  So
finally, after much complaining on Don's part,  Marisa suggested
that  they see this marriage counselor,  Mrs.  Theda Barron,  to
straighten out their relationship.

It seemed strange that Mrs.  Barron  specified  that  the  first
visit should be with Don alone.  But he didn't complain.  He was
willing  to do almost anything so that he and Marisa could be as
happy as they had once been.

Don stopped mulling over the past and looked about the room.  He
noticed  that  Mrs.   Barron's  receptionist-secretary  was   an
attractive young woman in her mid-twenties. She was certainly an
efficient secretary, he thought as he watched her answer several
calls,  type  out some letters,  and respond to a chime from the
next room (apparently Mrs.  Barron was consulting  with  another
couple  in  distress).  He  noticed  also  that she seemed to be
dressed more effeminately than would be considered  usual,  with
lace trim on her jacket and skirt,  and a white silk blouse with
rows of lacy ruffles all the way up to the  lace  neckline.  Her
heels were very high,  and he wondered how she was able to walk.
But these days, he thought, who knew what the fashion style was?

Finally,  the door to the next room  opened  and  a  middle-aged
couple emerged. The husky woman stooped at the doorway and spoke
back  into  the  room,  "Thanks  again  for all your help,  Mrs.
Barron.  I think you've given us all we need to get our marriage
back on its feet - or on its knees, as the case may be."

Then she addressed her husband,  who was waiting quietly at  her
side,  "Come  dear,  I can't wait to get home to try out some of
Mrs.  Barron ideas." With that, she walked towards the door. Don
spied a thin gold chain that she held  in  her  hand,  and  that
appeared  to  extend  up  to  a  thin  gold neckband worn by her
husband.  The man, looking quite obsequious,  hurried to stay by
her side, apparently not wanting anyone to see that he was being
led  by her on what might be interpreted as a quite high-fashion
leash.

The secretary held open the door for the woman and her  husband-
in-tow.  "See you next week, Mrs. Henderson," she said cheerily,
ignoring the presence of the man.  She nodded affirmatively  and
spun into the hall with her husband scrambling to keep pace. The
secretary closed the door and turned to Don.  "Mrs.  Barron will
see you now, Don," she said with a slight smile.  Don thought it
unusual not to be referred to as Mr.  Thompson,  but he  let  it
pass. He felt like he was missing something here.

As he walked into the inner office,  he came face to face with a
statuesque woman at least three of four inches taller  than  he.
She  was  in  her  forties  but extremely attractive in a rather
hard, sharp-featured way. She was wearing a stylish black dress,
knee-length with long  sleeves  and  a  tan  leather  vest.  Don
noticed  that  her  already  tall  presence  was  made even more
prominent by black high-heeled  sandals  which  showed  off  her
brightly-colored toenails with great effect.

"Welcome,  Don,"  she  said  as she extended her hand for a firm
handshake.  "You may sit here." She indicated a low chair set in
front of her desk.  As Don moved to sit,  she spoke back through
the door to her secretary,  "Monique,  bring me a fresh  cup  of
coffee... and a glass of water for our visitor."

Don turned to her. "I don't really care for water, Mrs. - ".  He
was interrupted in mid-sentence by Mrs. Barron.

"Never  mind,  Don,"  she said sternly .  "I think water will be
fine for you.  This is, after all, my office and you are here to
receive my  consultation.  So  why  don't  you  just  follow  my
procedures for a while, eh?"

Don was just about to  protest  further  about  this  blunt  and
inconsiderate treatment, but he decided against it and shrugged.
If  he  started having disagreements with the marriage counselor
too soon, he thought,  nothing would be accomplished.  More than
that,  Marisa  would be furious.  She felt that Mrs.  Barron was
exactly the  expert  they  needed.  He  decided  to  ignore  her
abruptness.

Mrs.  Barron walked around her desk and sat in her chair.  After
thumbing  through  a  few  type-written  pages on her desk,  she
looked Don in the eyes and asked, "I see from what your wife has
that your marriage is not working out too  well.  Why  have  you
been treating your wife in such an unseemly manner, Don?"

Don was taken aback at having  all  the  blame  placed  on  him.
"What?!  Mrs.  Barron,  I think we have a few problems, but it's
mostly because my wife has been running around with a  group  of
her friends and ..."

Once again, Mrs.  Barron interrupted him by holding up her hand.
"I  can  see that your wife is correct when she describes you as
headstrong and quite uncaring about  her  feelings.  You  didn't
allow me to finish what I was saying, did you, Don?"

Feeling  a  bit  sheepish,  Don  looked  away  from  the intense
expression on the woman's face. "Uh, no.. I'm sorry."

"Then I shall continue,  and please don't interrupt  me  again."
She looked down again at her notes. "Your wife says that she has
developed some very close relationships with several women,  one
in particular who lives very close to you,  but that  you  don't
accept these friends of hers. Is that true?"

"Well, yes, I guess it is...  but you see, this one friend Laura
is around all the time and I..."

"I'm not particularly interested in your excuses, Don. What I am
concerned with is your lack of respect for  your  wife.  If  she
wishes  to  have  friends  over,  at  any  time,  why should you
object?" She paused for effect.

"On the contrary, you should be pleased that your wife has these
friends and you should do all in your power to see that they are
made welcome in your wife's home."

"My wife's home?...." Don trailed off.

Shrugging him off,  Mrs.  Barron got out of her chair and walked
around  to  lean against the edge of the desk next to Don.  "You
love your wife, don't you, Don?"

He nodded.  "Then you should want to do anything that will  make
her  happy,  shouldn't  you?" He nodded again,  and was about to
speak when the secretary knocked and entered.  She gave a cup of
steaming coffee to Mrs.  Barron and a small glass  of  water  to
Don.

"That will be all,  Monique.  Now get back to work,  and be sure
that  all  my  letters  are  typed  by  noon," said Mrs.  Barron
abruptly.  Monique curtsied slightly.  "Yes, ma'am," she replied
respectfully and turned to walk quietly out of the room.

Don  took  a  sip of water,  since he was beginning to get a bit
uncomfortable, and found it was lukewarm.  He set it down on the
table beside him. "Aren't you showing a bit of favoritism here?"
he asked, a bit sarcastically.

"On the contrary," resumed Mrs.  Barron,  "You see,  Don, in any
marriage there must be compromise.  One partner must  help  make
the  other happy.  And inevitably,  one partner will become more
dominant.  It is  my  theory  that,  in  almost  every  case,  a
marriage  will  work most effectively when the husband dedicates
himself to the needs and wishes of his wife.  Men are just  more
naturally  suited  to  this role.  Throughout history,  men have
defended and died for their women -  helped  them  with  chores,
worked  for them.  Women have always been the dominant sex,  but
it just went unacknowledged.  In  most  species  the  female  is
superior and accepted as such -but over time the human race as a
whole  has  strayed away from its natural arrangement.  There is
no reason why it shouldn't be restored in marriage -  and  there
is  absolutely  no  reason  for  you  or  anyone  else  to  feel
embarrassed about that.  Do you follow my reasoning?"

Don  couldn't  quite  believe  what  he was hearing,  but he was
determined to try.  "Yes,  Ma'am," he said,  "but I think I have
some rights too."

Mrs.  Barron arose and walked to the window.  "Oh, I agree, Don.
You perhaps have the right to live with your wife,  to be in her
company  when  she  so desires,  and to do everything you can to
make  her  life  pleasurable  and  worry-free.  Those  are  very
important rights. But you don't have the right to complain about
the  company she keeps,  nor how she chooses to live.  Not every
man is able to live with a woman as  beautiful  as  Marisa.  You
should be thankful to be merely allowed in her presence daily."

Don  agreed,  to  a point.  His wife was beautiful and he didn't
want to lose her.

"Unfortunately," continued Mrs. Barron, "Marisa has told me that
she  cannot  stand   your   possessive   nature   and   constant
complaining.  She chose me as your counselor because I recognize
the importance - and the benefits - of  the  wife  assuming  the
dominant  role  in  marriage.  She  told me that if this session
today doesn't help resolve your differences,  she will leave you
and file for divorce."

This was the  first  Don  had  heard  of  divorce.  And  he  was
terrified.  He  truly  loved Marisa and didn't ever want to lose
her.  He had no idea she was so insistent with this Laura thing.
Moreover,  she had become the principal breadwinner in the  home
and  he  knew that he could never afford living in the luxury he
did now if he was out on his own.  He enjoyed the concerts,  the
dinners out, the entertaining -- even if they were almost always
accompanied by Laura.

Don  looked  up  at  the towering figure of Mrs.  Barron.  "Mrs.
Barron," he said in all ernestness,  "I didn't know she was this
upset about it.  I don't want to lose her. What does she want?"

Mrs. Barron smiled down at the young man, and strode back to sit
behind  her  desk.  He was following her lead perfectly.  "Well,
Don, first of all you must change your basic attitude.  You look
upon Marisa in terms of ownership - your  ownership.  Marisa  is
not  yours  to 'lose'.  You must change this attitude around and
instead look upon yourself as the owned party - owned by Marisa.
you must learn to follow her wishes and learn how to please her.
It's a simple attitude change.  All you have to do is keep  your
ego out of the way."

Don thought for a second.  It sounded plausible if it was turned
down a bit.  "Alright,  I can do that.  But where do I start?  I
don't know what to say or do..."

"I know Don. That's why Marisa came to me. She had a feeling you
would want to stay with her,  and she had heard from old friends
that I am an expert in helping men to make the transition into a
new kind of marriage.  I know I'm asking you  to  make  all  the
concessions  right now,  but that is only because Marisa is very
angry and will not compromise.  If you make the effort  now,  in
time she'll give in a little bit too, I'm sure."

He nodded. "How long?"

"Well....I  really  can't  predict  that.  Right  now all that's
important is that you realize  that  she  is  on  the  verge  of
calling off your marriage entirely.  If you decide to follow her
wishes,  you must assume  that  the  arrangement  will  continue
indefinitely.  Is that acceptable?"

"Yes. I'm assuming you mean a cooling-off period."

"Not exactly,  as I'll explain.  Now," she continued, "the first
step will be to demonstrate to Marisa your willingness to accept
her dominance and her role in the  household.  After  that,  she
will be able to relax and lead her life as she chooses.  Without
interference from you."

Don looked up. "Demonstrate? How? Do you know?"

"I know what Marisa has told me.  If you agree to her conditions
- and that's really what they are - Laura is going to move  into
your  apartment  in  the  near future.  I know that your wife is
quite fond of you but has lost any  real  sexual  interest.  She
and Laura will be the primary relationship in your household. In
our conversations,  she insisted that if you wish to remain with
her you may, but only in a completely different role."

"A different role?" asked Don. "What kind of role?"

Mrs.  Barron again rose and came to the  side  of  Don's  chair.
"Your  wife will only accept you as...  a helper,  shall we say.
She needs someone to help with the house, to do the cleaning and
laundry,  and to help  serve  and  entertain  her  many  guests.
Marisa's career is on the upswing,  as you know,  and she simply
can't cope with her career and running the apartment at the same
time.  And once Laura moves  in  with  her,  the  work  will  be
doubled.  Since  she is making so much more than you,  she feels
that this would be the appropriate solution."

"So she wants me to be  a  houseboy,  is  that  it?"  Don  asked
incredulously.

"Well.....almost,  Don."  Mrs.  Barron leaned down to take Don's
hand in hers. "You see, Marisa has become totally enamoured with
Laura and she has developed some very definite ideas  concerning
female superiority.  As a result, she really does not want to be
confronted  with  masculinity in any sense -- at home,  that is.
She has to deal with enough of that during the  day.  She  would
only  tolerate your continued presence as...  shall we say...  a
maid. A feminine servant, if you will."

Don pulled his hand away. "But how could I... ever ---?"

"Now,  now,  Don," she interrupted.  "That's your ego getting in
the way again."

Don  shook his head.  "How could she expect me to do that?  Does
she hate me that much?"

"Believe me,  I can understand how you feel.  But listen  to  me
now,  and  I'll  tell  you  how  you can do it.  I know what I'm
talking about.  You won't consider it right now because you  are
still identifying with the male stereotype - tough,  macho, etc.
That is going to be challenged, and it will be hard for a while.
What you have to do is to change your emotional  orientation  so
that  you  begin to identify with the female stereotype.  Do you
see that?"

"Really, Mrs.  Barron,  that's great in theory,  but it can't be
done, I'm sure." He was shaking his head no.

Mrs.  Barron smiled. "You must have some faith in me, Don. I can
prove  to  you that it can be done." She pressed a button on her
phone. Don heard the chime in the waiting room.

A few seconds later the door opened and Monique  entered.  "Yes,
ma'am?", she asked.

"Come in, Monique," Mrs. Barron beckoned. "Right here by me."

Monique obeyed.

"Don, I'd like you to meet my husband."

"What?!" His jaw dropped. "No... no way. I don't believe it."

"Monique....." Mrs. Barron prompted.

Monique looked pained.  She lifted the lace hem of her skirt and
raised  it,  exposing  her  gartered stocking tops and her lace-
edged pink panties.

"You don't have to take anything off, Monique," Mrs. Barron told
her. "Just enough to dispel any lingering doubts in Don's mind."

Holding her skirt up with one hand,  Monique pulled the front of
her panties down slightly. It was unmistakable. She was a he.

Monique  dropped her skirt.  "Thank you,  Monique," Mrs.  Barron
said. Monique stood quietly by her - his - wife's side.

Mrs.  Barron continued,  taking advantage of Don's shocked state
of mind.  "I can assure you that Monique is not being coerced in
any way,  by me or anyone else.  She resisted at  first..."  she
glanced  over  to Monique - "but that was only until she stopped
letting her ego run her  life."  She  motioned  for  Monique  to
continue.

"It's  quite  lovely,  Mr.  Thompson,"  Monique said in her soft
feminine voice.  "I would never want to go back to  the  way  it
was," she stated flatly. "Our marriage is better in every way."

"You must remember to give it  some  time,"  Mrs.  Barron  said.
"Whenever  you  feel  like it's too much,  just say to yourself,
'give it some time...give it some time'.  It will get better,  I
promise you.  Monique is proof of that.  The important thing for
now is -- are you willing to make such  a  committment  to  your
wife, on a permanent basis?"

Don  paused,  very  much  confused.  "Well,  I  think..  I don't
know...." he trailed off.

"You  must understand that it has to be yes or no," Mrs.  Barron
stated. "You can't do it halfway.  There will be no turning back
once you start. "

He shuddered.  "Well......  I know I can't live without her.  So
I guess I'll have to go along with her."

"Is that a committment?" she pressed him.

He nodded, slowly.

"Fine.  Marisa will want to make some definite changes  in  your
lifestyle....  not  to  mention your physical appearance.  So if
you really don't think you can adjust to dresses and soft, silky
panties,  you'd better say so now  -  but  you  will  be  saying
goodbye to Marisa!"

"No, I can't.  I can't leave her." Don looked up to Mrs.  Barron
in almost total confusion. Which is just where she wanted him to
be  at  this  time.  "Would you explain to Marisa that I want to
stay with her?"

"There,  there,  dear,  don't get upset." She  patted  his  head
affectionately,  stroked  his  cheek,  and  extended  her  well-
manicured hand in front of Don's face.  "Kiss my hand, Don,  and
thank me for the advice I've given you."

Don immediately grasped her hand and kissed it, then kissed each
finger,  murmuring,  "Yes...  thank you,  Mrs.  Barron, for your
help. Please help me keep my wife."

After Don had paid homage to his  advisor's  hand,  Mrs.  Barron
arose and went behind her desk.  "Don,  I have a little surprise
for you.  I asked Marisa and Laura to come over today.  I wanted
to inform them of your attitude, whatever it may have been.  I'm
happy to see that you are willing to adjust  to  the  situation.
And  I  would  say  that you are ready to speak for yourself.  I
think Marisa would enjoy hearing you tell  her  about  your  new
committment to her.  Don't you think so?  Besides,  it's  better
to get these things out of the way quickly."

With that, she buzzed her secretary. "Monique, you may show Mrs.
Thompson  and  her friend in now." Then she looked at Don.  "You
must get up, Don.  Your two new mistresses are coming in and you
should show them the proper respect."

Don stood up quickly.

"What should I do, Mrs. Barron?"

"Do what any obedient maid would  do  in  the  presence  of  her
mistresses. Curtsey when they enter the room." Don swallowed.

At  that  moment,  Marisa  and  Laura  were shown into the room.
Marisa was just as beautiful as Mrs.  Barron had suggested.  Her
long hair,  blonde and shimmering,  which was usually combed out
long,  was pulled back into a bun today.  She looked stunning in
her red suit and black high-heeled pumps.  Her girlfriend  Laura
had long brown hair that draped over her shoulders.  Even though
Don  didn't  think  she  was  as  beautiful  as Marisa,  she was
beautiful nevertheless in her blue and  white  dress  and  high-
heeled sandals.

As Marisa entered the room, she first looked at Mrs. Barron, and
then her eyes shifted to Don.  She didn't miss the  half-hearted
curtsey, his hands lifting an imaginary skirt. He was looking at
the floor.

"Well,  Don,"  she said,  "That's quite nice.  But I didn't know
you'd still be here." She turned to Mrs.  Barron. "I thought you
said we would talk about Don's decision after he left."

Mrs.  Barron smiled  and  led  Marisa  over  to  where  Don  was
standing. "I know that's what I said, but Don reached a decision
much faster than I had hoped.  And he wants to tell you himself.
Don?" She fixed the trembling man with a fierce look. "Don," she
replied sternly, "Greet your mistress."

Don paused, not knowing what she meant. "You'll have to help him
for  a while,  Marisa," Mrs.  Barron offered.  She nodded,  then
offered her high-heeled pump to him.  Don, comprehending, slowly
sank to his knees,  feeling totally helpless and  humiliated  in
front  of  these  three  lovely women.  He kissed the top of her
stocking-clad foot obediently.

"I'm impressed."

"You may speak now, Don," reminded Mrs. Barron.

"Uh,  yes...  I...  uh," he looked up at Marisa and saw a slight
smile  curl  around  his  wife's  mouth  as  she reached to take
Laura's hand affectionately.

"Uh..  Mistress Marisa,  I...  uh,  want to stay with you..  and
help you..  and do whatever you want me to.  Just please,  don't
leave." He was almost in tears.

Marisa looked down at him kindly. "I won't send you away, Don. I
don't want to break up our  marriage,  either.  But  things  are
going to change,  once and for all - or it's all  over.  Do  you
promise to obey me in all ways, whatever and whenever I ask?"

"Yes, mistress," Don replied earnestly.

"Do you promise to serve me and Mistress Laura,  and to cater to
our  wishes  night  and  day,  whatever  they  may  be,  without
complaint? - or, actually - with some enthusiasm?"

"Oh, yes, I promise, mistress," he repeated.

"Are you willing to wear a dress?"

He hesitated.

Marisa lifted the hem of her abbreviated skirt and pulled it  up
a  long  her  nylon-clad  thighs.  The  lace-trimmed  edging  of
her  silky  pink  panties  appeared. "-  and  nice,  silky  pink
panties?"

He looked at Mrs.  Barron.  She nodded, smiling, indicating that
he should agree. "Yes, yes... please, Mistress Marisa."

"Very well," said Marisa with finality.  "We'll see how it goes.
You may kiss our feet to show you are sincere."

Don had gone too far to back out now. He leaned forward to plant
a lingering kiss on each of his wife's pumps.  Then  he  crawled
over to Laura,  the woman he had so despised the day before, and
kissed each one of her sandals.

"Well, well," smiled Mrs.  Barron. "Don, I must commend you. You
have made excellent progress today.  I know you will not  regret
your  decision.  Now  let's sit down and plan out your immediate
future,  shall we?" She motioned for  Marisa  and  Laura  to  be
seated,  then spoke spoke to Marisa.  "First, there's the matter
of a name - you certainly can't call him Don.  Then  I  want  to
speak to you and Laura privately."

"We've already chosen a name," Marisa  volunteered.  "Denise."

"That's a pretty name," Mrs. Barron approved. Don just looked at
the floor,  still on his knees.  He began to get up  but  Marisa
leaned over and placed her hand on his shoulder.

He stopped,  somewhat angry.  She could tell  that  he  was  re-
evaluating the situation.  Marisa softened.  "You must remain on
your knees in the presence of ladies,  Don," she  said  quietly.
He hesitated, then dropped back down to kneel by her chair.

Mrs.  Barron shook her head in knowing way.  "He'll come around,
Marisa, but I'm afraid he has much to learn about his new life."

Marisa shifted her attention to her husband. "Don't worry. We'll
teach him." And then she turned to Laura. "Won't we, darling?"

"I can hardly wait," Laura  replied  with  a  giggle.  And  they
shared  a  hot,  sexual kiss while Don looked on,  on his knees,
contemplating the beginning of his new life.

Mrs.  Barron motioned to her  maid-husband.  After  Monique  had
escorted  Don  out  of  the room,  Mrs.  Barron spoke frankly to
Marisa.  "I  think  he'll  work  out  for  you.   But  he's  not
completely convinced he wants to do this yet."

"What should we do?" Marisa queried.

"You'll have to go easy for a while.  Let him get used to it. He
was all set to walk out of here when you held him down."

"I know - but he has to learn. So what do you suggest?"

"Give him lots of praise for a while.  Don't threaten him. If he
won't do as you ask, just mention it and ask him if he's decided
to terminate the arrangement. Put the responsibility on him."

"Yes, that's a good idea," Laura interjected.

Mrs.  Barron smiled at her.  "Make sure you get him in  a  dress
right away.  He and Monique are about the same size,  so you are
welcome to use the clothes I used when I first trained him."

Marisa nodded. "Thank you - that's very generous."

"I'd like to see you succeed.  The important thing right now  is
that you'll have to over-feminize him.  All at once.  That  way,
he  will experience it as less humiliating when you get him into
more normal women's clothing. But always make sure he is dressed
more femininely than either of  you  -  he  will  begin  to  see
himself  as  having  'nicer'  clothes  than  you.   That's  more
important than you might think.  You want to encourage a  little
competition."

Marisa nodded in understanding.

"Now,  I'll  have  Monique  get  the trunk so we can lay out his
attire for the next week or so."

About an hour later,  Don found himself leaving  the  office  of
Mrs.  Barron in the company of his two mistresses.  His head was
spinning  from  the changes that had overtaken him with blinding
speed.  That morning,  he'd been as free and independent as  any
married man, and now... he was under the absolute control of his
wife and her Lesbian girlfriend. Unbelieveable!

To  accentuate  his  servile status,  Mrs.  Barron awarded Don a
tight gold necklace that she clasped around his throat  as  they
were  about  to leave.  "You ought to be proud,  Don," she said.
"Most husbands don't earn their obedience collar for  many  more
sessions.  But  I think you're ideally suited to your new life."
And having said that,  she gave a thin gold leash to Marisa  who
happily attached it to the young man's necklace.

Then Marisa spoke to Don.  "Thank Mrs.  Barron for all her help,
Miss Denise," giving a quick tug on  the  chain.  Don  responded
quickly, by dropping to his knees in front of the counselor.  He
knew  this  time  what  he  was  expected  to  do.  Raising Mrs.
Barron's shapely,  sandaled foot,  Don took it in his  hand  and
kissed  it  all  over.  Then  he  stooped down even lower to pay
homage to her other foot.

Mrs.  Barron chuckled good-naturedly. "Don't worry, Marisa," the
woman said,  "she'll learn to do it automatically if you  follow
the training plan we've laid out." Don didn't miss the reference
to the feminine gender.

"I  don't  know  how  to thank you,  Mrs.  Barron," said Marisa.
"Laura and I both thank you."

"Yes,  indeed," added Laura.  "I've always wanted to live a life
of  luxury with a maid at my beck and call,  and now it looks as
though we'll have one. It'll be great fun -" she remembered Mrs.
Barron's advice - "for all of us."

Mrs.  Barron smiled.  "Well,  I hope you two love birds  have  a
great  life  together.  But  remember  what I said about Denise.
The training will take some time, so don't get discouraged.  But
she's an excellent candidate for female servitude,  and in  time
she will become the docile little servant girl you really want."

Marisa handed the leash to Laura.  "Here, darling, why don't you
take this."

"With pleasure," Laura smiled broadly.  She pulled on the  leash
to  get  Don  back  on  his feet.  "Let's go,  Miss Denise," she
ordered. "We haveza lot to do when we get home."

Monique carried the large trunk of clothing out  to  their  car,
keenly  aware  of  its  contents.  After  final  goodbyes,  they
started off for home.  Don  got  a  further  taste  of  his  new
position in life when his mistresses insisted that he sit in the
back  seat while they rode up front and discussed their new life
together.

Halfway home, Laura decided that she was hungry, so Marisa drove
to a nearby restaurant they both liked.  As they pulled into the
parking lot,  Marisa said,  "I almost forgot - Denise's  in  the
back. What should we do with her?"

Laura slid over on the seat and gave Marisa a long wet kiss full
on   the   mouth.   Their  lipstick  blended  as  their  tongues
intertwined,  and then Laura  eased  her  tongue  from  Marisa's
mouth.  "Remember,  Marisa,  Denise  is  now  our maid and she's
agreed to obey us completely.  I think it would be good for  her
to  stay in the car while we eat.  She needs to start dieting if
she's going to fit properly into a dress."

She kissed Marisa again.  "Come on, lover, let's go have a drink
to  celebrate  our  new life." They both got out of the car.  As
Laura exited, she reached back and handed Don a small case.

"Take this, Miss Denise," she said. "It's a makeup kit. While we
are eating,  I want you to pluck your eyebrows.." she pointed to
her own - "so that they look like this. There are tweezers and a
mirror  in  there.  We'll  be  out shortly." Laura kissed Marisa
again as they locked the car and walked hand in  hand  into  the
restaurant. Don slid down in the seat to hide from passersby.

After  a  leisurely lunch,  Marisa and Laura complimented him on
the job he had done on his eyebrows.  He'd managed to arch  them
very well, and had plucked them down to a thin line.

When  they  arrived  home,  the  two  women  led Don up to their
apartment, with him carrying the large trunk.  Laura ordered Don
to fix them cocktails and bring them to her in the living  room.
He did so, and when he came back in, he found her longing on the
sofa next to Marisa,  smoking a cigarette.  He handed a drink to
each of them and then stood beside the sofa, waiting.

"Miss Denise,  kneel down when you're in the room  with  ladies!
Have you forgotten already?"

"I'm sorry,  Laura...  Mistress Laura," he mumbled as he dropped
to his knees.  She extended her foot to him.  He  gave  her  the
required kiss to show his appreciation for the discipline.  They
were following Mrs. Barron's rules to the letter.

"Now don't forget,  Miss Denise,  we have to be very strict with
you, but we'll allow you to make some mistakes at first, just as
Mrs.  Barron  said.  First  of  all,  you  should start grooming
yourself as befit a proper maid in a lady's service. And there's
no better time to start than right now.  I want you to  go  into
the  bathroom  and  shave  every  single  hair  off  your  body,
including your private parts.  You may keep  the  hair  on  your
head,   but   the   sideburns  and  everything  else  comes  off
completely." He nodded.

"After that, take a bath in some of our perfumed bath oil.  Then
polish your nails -- fingers and  toes.  When  you're  finished,
come back in here for inspection."

Don  left the living room in a stupor and went into the bathroom
to disrobe. He thought of walking out then and there. Why should
he submit to the will of these women?  He  was  physically  much
stronger than they. But he thought of what Mrs. Barron had said.
'Give it some time.' He hadn't even started yet.

With that decision made,  he slipped  into  the  perfumed  bath.
Picking up a razor from Marisa's things,  he started shaving the
hair from his legs.  It took him a long time  to  finish,  after
which he shaved his chest,  stomach, armpits, arms, and finally,
his genitals.  With each step he felt he  was  losing  more  and
more  control  over his life,  and was more completely under the
control of his two mistresses.

When he was through shaving,  he took a hot bath in the perfumed
bath oil,  which he had to admit felt very luxurious, especially
on his hairless body.  After drying off,  he picked up a  bottle
of  pink  nail  polish  and  did  his nails.  He missed in a few
places, but overall it wasn't a bad job. The toenails were a bit
harder.

Before going back to face the two women,  he glanced at  himself
in the mirror...  and could barely believe it was him -- shaven,
with fine eyebrows and polished nails.  He felt embarrassed  and
helpless.  But  he  hoped  Marisa  would  be pleased that he had
followed instructions so explicitly.

He put on his robe and walked back into the living room where he
found Laura and Marisa fondling each other. Their tongues roamed
in each other's mouths.  They didn't  stop  kissing,  but  Laura
gestured  for  him  to  take off his robe and turn around so she
could inspect him. He did so, without a moment's hesitation, and
tried to pirhouette for his mistresses.  He turned back to see a
smile of satisfaction on Marisa's face.  She broke their kiss to
speak to Don.

"You've done very well,  Miss Denise.  Your legs and thighs look
so  much  smoother  now.  And your penis....  why,  Miss Denise,
you're blushing so!"

Laura kissed her again,  then said,  "Stand in the corner,  Miss
Denise.  We'll  be  with you in a minute." Don nodded mutely and
walked over to the corner of the living  room  where  he  stood,
naked and alone.  The two girls resumed their hot,  wet kissing.
Then he heard Laura's voice again.

"Stand on your tip-toes,  dear.  It'll be good practice for you.
After all,  once you start wearing heels, your feet will have to
get used to that position."  She  returned  to  her  lover.  Don
raised  himself  up  onto  his  tiptoes  to  await his continued
training.  Considering how quickly his feet tired,  he hoped  it
would be very soon.


                           **********

A  little  over  a  half  an  hour later the women stopped their
sexual petting and kissing. Marisa got up off the sofa. From his
solitary corner Don stiffened in anticipation.

Marisa said, "Well, let's see what's in the trunk, shall we?"

They both glanced at Don,  barely standing on his toes,  shaking
with exhaustion and the pain in his legs and feet.

Marisa  went over to Don and turned him around to see the strain
on his face.  "Poor dear," she said.  "Having a hard time of it,
huh?"  He appreciated her concern.  He could think of nothing to
do but stand and wait for them  to  decide  what  he  should  do
next..  slowly,  though,  he began to hide his privates with his
trembling hands.  "No,  no,  Miss Denise,  don't cover  up  your
pretty little nude thing... it's so cute and pink!

Marisa  gathered them around the trunk and asked Don if he would
like to open it to see what his new attire would be.  He did so,
finding an entire assortment of feminine attire in the different
sections in the trunk.  There were many  pairs  of  frilly  lace
panties and bras,  tap pants, slips and half-slips, nighties and
negligees of various lengths and colors,  layered petticoats,  a
few corsets, garterbelts, lace garters, nylons, and spike-heeled
sandals  and slippers.  In the bottom of the trunk were a number
of  boxes  containing  shoes,  dresses,  and  coordinated  sets.
Everything  was  covered with lace trim and edging.  Most of the
panties had rows of ruffled lace across the back.  It was like a
small department store!

"You know," Marisa remarked,  "there's  a  fortune  in  lingerie
here." Laura agreed.

When everything was unpacked and laid out,  Marisa asked, "Would
you mind if I chose your first outfit?" He shook his  head,  and
she scolded him. "No, mistress," he corrected himself.

"Have  you  ever  seen  an  assortment like this,  lover?" Laura
asked. "I can't believe it, but I'm jealous!"

Marisa scanned the array and picked up  a  pair  of  silky  pink
bikini  panties  with layers of ruffled lace edging at the waist
and legs and across the back,  and held them up in front of Don.
"Aren't  these  gorgeous!" she asked.  "You know,  you're really
very fortunate to be able to wear these...  so soft and lacy and
pretty...  I've  never  been able to afford lingerie like this."
She looked at him. "Want to try them on?"

He looked back at her sheepishly.  "Oh,  there's no reason to be
embarrassed," she comforted. "Nobody is going to tease you.  I'd
really like to know how you like them."

She  held  the  panties out for him to step into.  As she pulled
them up his legs and into place around  his  waist,  he  felt  a
combination  of  emotions  --  relief  at  having  his nakedness
covered,  and both intense embarrassment and pleasure at wearing
the lacy, feminine panties.  "They look very pretty on you, Miss
Denise," Marisa complimented. He blushed profusely.

"Of course you'll  need  a  bra,"  Marisa  commented,  rummaging
through  one  of  the  piles  of  clothes.  Finding what she was
looking for, she said,  "And this will do nicely - a nice frilly
corset!"

"Ah,  yes,"  added  Laura  with a smile.  "No modest little maid
would dare be seen without a corset,  would  she?"  Don  shifted
uncomfortably.  "Besides,  it  will  help shape your body into a
more suitable form."

Marisa held up the pink satin  lace  corset.  It  had  whalebone
stays  and powder blue lace trim all around the bottom,  and the
body of it was done in pink lace. The underwire bra had satin on
the bottom of the cups and lace on top, and was outlined in blue
lace.  "Oh,  this will look so  pretty  on  you,  Miss  Denise!"
chirped Marisa.  She had him turn and wrapped it around him.  He
felt  a  wave  of  embarrassement,  and  the  soft  touch of his
panties.  He didn't think he could do this.

"Marisa..." he stuttered.

She gave him a harsh look, saying nothing. Then he understood.

"Mistress Marisa," he blurted, "I...I... can't...."

She  studied  his  face.  Her voice soft and dripping sweetness,
she said, "Oh,  Miss Denise,  you must...please.  You'll look so
pretty. Just try it, that's all I'm asking."

He  shifted nervously,  and felt the silky caress of his panties
again. "Alright....Mistress."

She gave him a quick hug and began  to  lace  the  corset  while
Laura held it closed in the back.  The bra cups hung limply from
his chest. Then the corset began to get tighter.

"Raise  your  arms straight over your head,  Miss Denise," Laura
instructed,  pulling on the corset while  Marisa  tightened  the
laces.  He  began  gasping  for breath but the women just pulled
harder,  telling him to exhale while they pulled on  the  laces.
"It's  not tight enough yet,  lover," Laura commented to Marisa.
"I know," she replied.  Then,  to Don,  she said,  "Miss Denise,
come over here to the door, please."

He did so, uncomfortably, embarrassed.

"Now, hold the top of the door frame and lift yourself up."

He did as she asked, feeling the corset loosen.  "Great...  stay
like that for a minute." Marisa told him.

His wife put her knee in the small of his back and pulled on the
laces.  The  corset  tightened  again.  "Now  Denise,  exhale  -
quickly!" Laura added.  Marisa  pulled  the  laces  tighter.  He
could hold on no longer.  His fingers sore, he dropped back onto
his feet.

He felt like his insides were  being  squashed.  He  groaned  in
discomfort.   "Ooooooo,  it  fits  perfectly!"  Laura  squealed,
delighted.

"I know it's tight,  Miss Denise," Marisa soothed.  "But..." she
continued,  running her hands up and down his sides,  "look what
it's done for your figure."

He looked down, craning his neck since it was difficult to move.
His waist was nipped in sharply, pushed up to his chest and down
to his hips.  His stomach was flattened. It looked like a girl's
body.

Then Marisa pulled an extra strip of satin from the front of the
corset,  between  Don's legs under his panties,  and fastened it
tightly to a hook in the back.  This piece had  a  small  groove
into  which  his  genitals  fit,  and  the  overall effect was a
completely smooth crotch area, void of masculinity.

"I'm afraid that you'll have to wear this corset at  all  times,
Miss  Denise,"  reminded  Laura.  "Even  at  night.  It  will be
unpleasant,  but we simply must reduce your waist  to  about  22
inches...  don't you agree, darling?" Marisa nodded, pulling the
lace-clad garters through the leg holes of his pretty panties.

Laura rolled a pair of matching pink nylons up his smooth-shaven
legs  and  smoothed  them  into  place.  As  she  fastened  each
beribboned garter clasp to his nylons,  she remarked,  "I'm sure
it won't be long before you'll love the  feel  of  your  garters
pulling on your nylons, Miss Denise." Marisa agreed. "And," said
his  wife,  smiling  devilishly,  "to  make  sure you don't feel
under-developed, here's some padding for you, at least until you
can grow some nice titties of your own!" Saying that, she pulled
two weighted breast forms out of a separate  bag  and  carefully
tucked one into each lace bra cup.

"Hmmm..  very realistic," said Marisa.  "She's beginning to look
pretty good... why, good enough to .. eat!"

"Better than me, darling?" cooed Laura.

"Never,  lover-girl," replied Marisa.  She  jumped  out  of  her
chair  and  gave Laura a lingering,  wet kiss.  Don stood in his
panties and corset as the two women kissed hotly.

While Laura went to the kitchen to go get a drink refill, Marisa
continued to dress her new maid.  After  making  sure  that  his
corset was adjusted properly, she picked up a pink lace camisole
that  was obviously part of the set,  and drew it over his head.
His bra fit snugly into the lace cups  of  the  camisole,  which
were, like the corset, outlined in powder blue lace. The hem was
made  of  matching rows of ruffled lace.  The filmy material did
little to cover the lace corset.

"Oh, they're pretty!" said Laura as she re-entered the room with
drinks for she and Marisa.  Marisa was adjusting  the  pink  and
blue garters he was wearing around his thighs.

"Now, Miss Denise, we have something that will always remind you
that you're wearing a dress," Marisa offered,  picking up a pink
taffeta petticoat.  It ruffled loudly as she held it up for him.
"This will make a pretty swishing sound every  time  you  move,"
she said, shaking the waistband. The many layers of satin, lace,
and taffeta rustled and swished as she did so.

"I  can't  wait to see it on her," Laura said excitedly.  Marisa
held the waistband open at his feet so he could  step  into  it.
Stiffly,  he  lifted  his  feet,  and  Marisa  slid the rustling
petticoat up his legs and into place.

It was extremely short,  shorter than it appeared when held  up.
It barely covered his garters and panties, and Don surmised that
the  slighest  bending  of the waist would put his lacy intimate
lingerie on full display!  Marisa pulled the hem of his camisole
down over the petticoat,  swishing his skirts loudly as she  did
so.

"Oh,  she's  beautiful!"  Laura  exclaimed,  walking  around his
standing form.

They had him sit down,  and a box of shoes was  taken  from  the
trunk.  He smoothed his skirts under him, and Marisa praised him
for doing so. But the corset made sitting a painful exercise.

Marisa  removed  a pair of pink pumps with three-inch heels from
the box.  "These will be good shoes for you to learn  in,"  said
Marisa as she stroked his smooth-shaven nylon-clad legs.  "Soon,
you'll be able to handle  five-inch  heels  with  little  or  no
problem, which will make your smooth legs just so pretty in your
nice  silky  nylons."  She then instructed Don to walk around to
get accustomed to the high heels.  With every cautious step  the
petticoats  swished,  and  Don  felt  the garters pulling on his
nylons.

"And now for the final touch," said  Marisa,  opening  a  finely
decorated box. "A nice frilly pink dress!"

She  lifted  it  from  the box and held it up for him.  Like the
petticoat,  it was extremely short.  It  was  obvious  what  the
designer had intended to do - it was not at all meant to display
the  charms  of  the  female body,  but rather to accentuate the
femininity of the wearer.  The pale pink material it was made of
was shiny and translucent;  Don couldn't see through it,  but he
could see Marisa's hand through the skirt as she held it out.

The neckline was ringed with a high lace collar, and two rows of
ruffled  lace  converged  at the center of the bustline from the
puffed sleeves.  The high waist was  gathered  in  a  wide  band
extending from under the bust to the waistline of the skirt. The
hem  of  the  dress  and  the  short  sleeves  were decorated in
matching blue lace.  It was extremely feminine, and reminded Don
of the frilly  little  dresses  that  young  schoolgirls  always
seemed to wear.

"Well,  Miss  Denise,  do  you  like  it?" Laura interrupted his
thoughts.

Don looked at the dress again and was immediately aware  of  the
frilly lingerie against his body.  The ruffled petticoat tickled
his thighs. It felt sexy, he had to admit. He found he wanted to
see what it would be like to wear the dress too.

"You  don't have to answer if you're embarrassed,  Miss Denise,"
Marisa advised.  Don was relieved.  "Just turn around and  raise
your arms over your head."

He  felt  the  skirt  flutter down over his head.  The two women
tugged the dress down over his  feminized  body,  smoothing  the
skirt  out  over  his  petticoats.  The ruffled lace and taffeta
peeked out from beneath the skirt.  Marisa zipped it up in back,
then the two lovers stepped back to admire their handiwork.

"You look lovely, Miss Denise!" complimented Laura. "How does it
feel?"

"I feel like.... a girl," he answered, "Mistress Laura."

She chuckled.  "I should hope so!  You  certainly  look  like  a
girl!" A few seconds later,  she added,  "Now walk to the end of
the room and back, and then tell me you don't like it."

He did so,  mincing his  steps  unsurely.  His  skirts  made  an
exciting  frou-frou with each step,  and Don was keenly aware of
the lingerie sliding across his body.  His  breasts  jutted  out
over his flat stomach. It was terribly exciting!

He stopped and looked at Laura, saying nothing.

"I thought as much," she smiled.  "Now, come into the bedroom so
we can put your makeup on and fix your hair.  Then we'll let you
see what you look like."

Laura sat him down at Marisa's dressing table,  facing away from
the mirror so he couldn't see what they were doing.

Marisa  draped  a  towel  around  his neck to protect his dress.
"Now,  with a little makeup,  you should be passable as a girl,"
she said. "But I want you to pay attention to what we are doing,
since  you  will eventually have to do this yourself." He nodded
in agreement, then caught himself. "Yes, Mistress Marisa."

Marisa  plucked  his eyebrows in the few places  he  had  missed
while  lying in the car. Laura was busy with his hair,  using  a
brush  and a curling iron. He wished he could watch her  in  the
mirror  as  she carefully transformed his normal hair  style  to
that of an attractive young woman.

After Marisa had applied the foundation creme, she went to  work
on  his  eyes, darkening and arching his eyebrows, and  then  by
applying  mascara and eye shadow. After rubbing a  little  blush
into  his  cheeks, she picked up a lip liner  and  outlined  his
lips,  taking  a long time to shape them into a  full,  feminine
pout.  She  finished  by filling in his  lips  with  bright  red
lipstick.

"What do you think?" Marisa asked Laura, motioning to his face.

Laura  gave  her approval, and they turned the chair  around  so
that Don could see his reflection in the mirror.

Don  was amazed at the extent of the change in  his  appearance.
His eyes were full and round, with long thick eyelashes  beneath
thin, arched eyebrows. His lips were soft and deep red, and  his
hair  was  curled  into a short pageboy  style  that  was  quite
popular.  There was absolutely no reason for anyone to  question
his gender - or rather, her gender!

"My,  isn't she the prettiest little thing?" Laura  remarked  to
Marisa. Don blushed profusely. They led him back into the living
room.

"Now, for the rest of the evening, you must practice walking and
speaking.  Remember - put your toe down first when you walk.  If
you try to put your full weight on the heel first,  you'll break
it."

He nodded. "Yes, Mistress, I'll be careful."

"And remember to sway your hips slightly,  like a  proper  young
lady. The heels will help."

"Yes, Mistress."

Marisa  winked  at Laura.  "We're going to retire to the bedroom
while you practice your voice.  Make it as high as you can,  but
not  so  high  that you cackle.  The important thing is to speak
clearly - it'll take some time."

He wondered how much time he would have to practice.  Then Laura
interrupted, a devilish grin on her face.  "And one more thing,"
she said,  "- it's three twenty now.  Before six,  you must come
into the bedroom,  and each time you must ask us if we think one
of  the  items  of  clothing you are wearing is pretty - and you
have to use that exact word."

Marisa thought it was a great idea.  "And you may ask about only
one item each time you come in - and you have to show it to us."

Laura continued, excited. "You must do it for everything you are
wearing - before six. Understand?"

A lump appeared in his throat. "But that....it's too...I'd be.."

"Hush, Miss Denise. We're not doing it to tease you. It's a good
way  to  practice your voice,  and we want you to be reminded of
everything you're wearing."

He looked at the floor, conceding to their demands. Laura winked
at him,  then took hold of Marisa's hand and led  her  into  the
bedroom. The door closed, and Don was left to himself.

He  tried  to  ignore  the  two  women in the next room while he
practiced walking in the high heels, but periodically he heard a
low moan from behind the closed door.  He covered the  sound  of
their  lovemaking by practicing his voice.  He tried to make his
voice higher as he walked,  his pantied bottom swishing back and
forth beneath his rustling skirts.  He felt like a girl,  and to
his surprise,  enjoyed the feeling.  He began imitating a  sulky
siren walk,  aware of his garters and breasts, and especially of
his  silky  lace  panties.  He  knew  then  that  his  wife  had
succeeded;  that  he  would be an obedient  feminized  slave  to
Marisa and her lover!