tagTranssexuals & CrossdressersMiss Jennifer's Sissy Housewife

Miss Jennifer's Sissy Housewife

bytiffanyfoxe©

My job was much less demanding than my wife's, so she had always "suggested" that I do all the housecleaning, shopping and cooking all week, and of course I never minded because I secretly loved being subservient to her.

She loved to tease me when we'd be out somewhere together and she'd see a good looking guy by telling me how attractive she thought he was, and saying things like "I'll bet he'd love to fuck me," or "I wonder how big his cock is?" or "I'll bet you'd love to watch him fuck me, wouldn't you?" Then she'd look at me expectantly until I said something like, "yes, dear, I'd love to watch him fuck you."

I was especially sensitive to things like that because I knew my penis was awfully small, and almost all of the time back when she'd actually let me have sex with her she'd make me kneel between her lovely legs, lick and kiss her sweet pussy and tender little clit until she came. Then she would sometimes – but not very often – let me put my little penis inside her until I came. Of course it never took me very long to cum because I'd always been servicing her cunt with my tongue and lips for 10-15 minutes at least, and she always had me stripped completely naked when I serviced her, which meant that my little pee-pee had been rock hard and very stimulated all the time that she'd had me licking her twat.

Sometimes when I was licking her she'd talk about how much she'd like to have a real man fuck her, to have a man with a big hard cock get on top of her and fuck her until she came, or sit on her chest and rub his dick all over her tits and face until he fucked her mouth and shot his cum all over her face and tits. Then she'd tell me that after he shot his load of cum in her cunt she'd sit on my face and have me clean his cum out of her twat with my tongue. Or that after he came all over her face and tits she'd make me clean her up by licking up all his cum off of her breasts and face and eating it while she kept playing with his dick.

Hearing things like that always made me even hornier, although since she only let me put my little penis in her once in a while, I often ended up having to go into the other room and masturbate by myself to relieve my horniness.

Now, though, it had been quite some time since my wife had allowed me to have sex with her; at least a couple of years. Whenever I tried to edge towards the subject, or tried to touch her incredibly beautiful breasts or her gorgeous ass she just laughed at me scornfully and told me to go away, that I wasn't good enough to have sex with her. She'd laugh and tell me that I was completely useless as a man, and that my penis was too little to ever satisfy her, so finally I'd given up. Instead, whenever she was away on a trip, which she did on business every two or three weeks, I'd dress up as a girl and amuse myself by cleaning the house, doing the laundry, and whatever other chores needed to be done, pretending to myself that I was Miss Jennifer's wife. I loved wearing sexy lingerie, lovely blonde wigs, earrings, nylons, spiked high heels and oodles of makeup. Since my wife never saw me without clothes on, and made me sleep in a separate bedroom (much smaller than hers), I kept my legs, chest, underarms and groin shaved smooth and feminine all the time and actually wore a pretty lace brassiere and panties almost always.

One evening after dinner we were in the kitchen together. She was sitting at the table finishing her meal and I was doing the dishes and cleaning up as I always did and she said, "It must have been nice back in the fifties and sixties to come home and have your wife greet you at the door with a drink, to know that dinner was almost ready, and that after dinner all you had to do was sit and relax while your little housewife cleared away the dishes and cleaned up everything. I blinked at her in some confusion. What was she talking about?.

I mumbled some non-committal agreement like "Yes, that would be nice."

She went on, now done with her food, just sitting there sort of musing. "One of my friends emailed me an article from back in the early sixties today. It talked about how a wife should always make sure she took 20-30 minutes before her husband came home to get herself ready for him. She should touch up her makeup, make sure her lipstick, eye shadow and mascara were perfect, that her hair was freshly curled and brushed, to always be wearing a pretty dress, with nylons and high heels so he would always have a pretty wife to come home to." She went on, "and of course to have his dinner ready and greet him at the door with a kiss, ready to do whatever he wanted as his obedient little housewife."

She sighed, and went on. "Those were the days, I guess. It would sure make it a lot easier coming home from work if I had someone like that greeting me every day, standing there at the door looking nice and pretty, handing me a glass of champagne."

I blinked in disbelief. Of course, my ultimate fantasy was to be her wife, to serve her as her completely submissive housewife, just like she was describing. I'd always loved dressing up as a girl, wearing pretty lace bras and panties, with my pair of big 54DD silicon filled falsies in my bra, nylons, high platformed spiked heels and oodles of eye shadow, mascara, blush and lipstick, and one of my pretty golden blonde wigs with big hoop earrings. Once she'd agreed to let me dress up for her, years ago just after we were first married, but she hadn't really enjoyed it, and had never agreed to do it again.

Occasionally, back when we'd had a sexual relationship I'd slipped in bits of my fantasies while we were having sex, telling her how I'd love to be her maid, encouraging her to say things like I wasn't good enough to have sex with her, or that she'd like to have me watch while another man fucked her, and then sit on my face after he shot his cum into her pussy, and have me clean his cum out of her cunt with my tongue. But those days were gone – I couldn't even remember the last time she'd allowed me to have sex with her.

And although I dressed up as pretty as I could whenever I knew she'd be away for any length of time, I certainly had never dreamed that she'd actually say or even hint that she would ever want me to be her little housewife.

"Umm..." I stammered, my mouth hanging open, not sure exactly how to respond, but staring at her. Did I dare to pursue what she was saying? But I thought, what did I have to lose? So still holding the dishtowel I walked over about halfway to her, knowing that I was blushing, and looking down at my feet.

"Dear? Would you really like to have a sweet little housewife here at home when you come home from work? To be greeted by your little wife at the door with a glass of champagne, all dressed up pretty for you, in nylons and high heels with fresh makeup and her hair all pretty for you?

She just laughed and shook her head. "What are you talking about?"

"Well...I'd...I'd love to do that for you, to be a good little housewife for you. I would, really. I'd...I'd be there every day when you get home from work...to greet you with champagne at the door, to always be dressed up pretty for you, always wearing high heels and nylons and makeup like a good little wife. I could make dinner for you every night, and clean up everything afterwards. I'd do your laundry every day, and make your bed every morning so that you'd never have to do anything. Really I could – I'd be a perfect little wife for you. Please, could I? Wouldn't you like that? To have a good little housewife to do everything for you, to wait on you hand and foot like wives did back in the fifties and sixties." I looked down at her feet in embarrassment, loving what I was saying. "Please could I be your wife. Please?"

She laughed again, shaking her head, "Don't be ridiculous."

But I kept begging. "Please? Wouldn't you like that? To never have to cook or clean up after dinner? To never have to do your laundry or make your bed? And...and I could vacuum and dust for you, I'd vacuum and dust the whole house every day for you, and change the sheets on your bed whenever you want, and...and clean the toilets...whatever you want, I'll do whatever chores you want me to do. Please could I be your wife, please? I promise I'd be a good little wife for you – I'd always do anything you told me to. Please? Please could I be your wife?

Finally she stopped laughing and just looked at me, a strange expression on her beautiful face. "You're serious, aren't you? You'd actually like that, wouldn't you? You'd be my little housewife, all the time, every night, every day – you'd always do whatever I told you to do – no matter what?"

"Oh, my, yes, dear. I would, I promise. Please? Please could I be your wife? I...I promise. I'll always wear mascara and eye shadow, and rouge and blush, and lipstick and lip gloss, just like a good little wife. I'll keep my legs shaved, and I'll always wear nylons and high heels, and a pretty dress or a skirt and blouse, with a bra and panties underneath. Please could I? Please could I be your wife? I want to be your wife so much...please could I? I promise I'll be a good little wife for you please?"

"You'd do everything. Shopping, cooking, cleaning, make my bed and do my laundry, everything?"

"Yes, dear, of course. I'd be a perfect little housewife for you, I promise. Please? Please could I be your wife? Please?"

"And all I'd have to do is put up with you being dressed up as a girl and pretending to be a girl all the time?"

"Well, I mean...if I'm going to be your wife, you'd want me to look like your wife, wouldn't you? I could...really, I could. I'd promise to be dressed properly all the time, I'd...I'd shave my legs and my underarms – all my body hair everywhere, and let my hair grow so after a while I wouldn't have to wear a wig, and...and I'd have my ears pierced so I could wear pretty feminine earrings all the time for you. And I'll do my nails for you, so I look like the perfect little wife all the time. Please could I? Please let me be your wife, please?"

But she laughed and shook her head. "No, I don't think so. You are useless as a man, and of course I'll never ever have sex with you again, or even let you see my breasts, but letting you pretend to be my wife would be absurd, ridiculous, and I have no interest in that at all.

And with that she'd held out her champagne glass and said, "but I will let you get me more champagne. Go get the bottle, refill my glass, then go to your room. I'm tired of looking at you."

Crestfallen, completely disappointed because for a few moments I had thought she might agree to let me be her little obedient housewife, I did as she'd commanded, then went into my room and unable to think about anything but how much I'd love to be her little housewife, lay down on the bed and masturbated, thinking about how much I wished she'd let me be her wife.

Then one evening a few days later she'd surprised me by telling me to come in the bedroom with her, then ordered me to stand in front of her and strip completely naked. After I had taken off all my clothes, and my little penis was sticking out from my hips semi erect from the embarrassment of having to stand there completely naked in front of my fully dressed wife, she sat there on the edge of her bed, just staring at me.

Finally she cocked her head slightly to one side and asked, "So, you remember back when you said you'd like to be my little housewife?"

I nodded, feeling my tiny little penis get even harder as I stood there naked in front of her.

"And if I agreed, if I said you could try to be my little housewife, you'd do everything that you said last week. You'd make dinner for me every night, and clean up everything afterwards. You'd do all my laundry every day, and make my bed with fresh clean sheets every day, vacuum and dust the whole house every day, clean the toilets, keep the kitchen spotless...you'll do whatever I want, do whatever chores I tell you to do, immediately. You'll do anything and everything that I tell you to like a good, properly subservient little housewife – and all I have to do is put up with you pretending to be a girl."

I couldn't believe my ears, and I knew without even looking that my little pee-pee was standing up quivering at rock hard attention, probably harder than it had ever been in my whole life.

"Oh my god, yes, Miss Jennifer. I would, I promise, I'll be a perfect little housewife for you. I'll do everything you say, anything, always. Please could I? I promise I'd be a good little wife, a good little girl."

Slowly, she nodded again. "Well...I don't know, maybe you could. You know, I think I might like not having to do any of that stuff any more." She paused, and frowned. "But don't go getting it into your head that I'm going to have sex with you. You know you're completely useless as a man, with that tiny little thing you call a penis, that worthless excuse for a cock. You're not good enough to ever have sex with me; you're just completely ridiculous.

"I have absolutely no interest in ever letting you touch me again, much less ever have you put that ridiculous little dick of yours inside me. You're just not good enough to do that, ever. You know that, right?"

I stared down at the floor. "Yes, dear. I know that. I know...I know I'm useless as a man. I know that I'm not good enough to ever have sex with you. I know you don't want my penis inside you ever again, I know that."

She went on. "No sex. No sucking my tits or any of that. You just do all the chores, all the housework, keep everything spotless, and I'll put up with you pretending to be a girl. Do whatever you want about dressing up, shaving your legs, getting your ears pierced or whatever. Just don't bother me with it, don't expect me to be involved or anything. I really don't care what you do, as long as you do everything that I expect from a good little housewife, you understand?"

"Yes, dear. Of course. I understand completely. That would be so wonderful. Really? Really you'll let me be your wife, you will? Oh, thank you. Thank you so much for letting me be your wife. I promise I'll always be a good little wife for you."

She went on, "And since you're going to be my wife, I may look for another man, or men, to fuck me and suck my tits, to give me a real cock when I need it. You understand that, right? I mean – I can't expect a sissy little faggot who wants to dress up as a girl and wear makeup all the time to provide for my sexual needs, can I?"

"No, dear. Of course not, whatever you want. I'll be your obedient little wife; whatever you want to do is fine of course. I know I'm completely useless as a man, I know I'm not good enough for you, not good enough to ever have sex with you, that I disgust you and that you have no interest in sex with me. Of course, if you want to find other men and have them fuck you, then of course that makes sense."

She smiled, "Yes, I'll definitely do that. I've been needing a real man's cock inside me for a long time, to feel a real man with a big hard dick on top of me, spreading my legs and fucking my cunt like you could never do. That actually sounds pretty good to me. I'd love to get fucked, to have a real man's dick in me – I'd forgotten how good that feels with nothing but you around me.

"Maybe I'll get a couple of guys, so I can have one of them stick his dick in my ass and the other one in my cunt, both at the same time...I think I'd like that. Maybe three of them – I think I'd like to have a cock in my twat, and in my ass, and in my mouth, all at the same time. And maybe if you're a good little girl, and do everything I tell you, maybe once in a while I'll let you watch while I get fucked. You'd like that wouldn't you? To watch while I have a real man, maybe two or three men fuck me?

"And if you're really a good little wife, after I let them shoot their cum inside my cunt, fill my twat with their sperm, maybe I'll sit on your face and let you clean their cum out of my pussy with your little tongue, let their hot, wet, juicy jism drip down out of my pussy on your pretty little face and let you eat it all up. I'll bet you'd love that, wouldn't you?

I blushed, looking down at my feet. "Yes, dear. You know I would; I'd love to be all dressed up pretty with makeup, nylons and high heels and watch while you have a real man fuck you. And I'd love to have you sit on my face so I could use my tongue to clean all of his cum out of your beautiful pussy for you."

She laughed, then rolled her eyes.

"Well," she said, shaking her head, her voice dripping with disgust.

"Maybe...maybe it would be useful to have you be my little housewife." again she shook her head, "but first I have to see what you look like as a girl. I mean, we both know that you're completely useless as a man, and that your little – god, I can't even bring myself to call it a penis, it's so ridiculously tiny – your pee-pee, I guess it is. Your pee-pee is so absurdly small that I can't believe I ever let you have sex with me." She shook her head and laughed. "You know, sometimes I couldn't even tell when you had that pathetic little thing inside me it's so incredibly tiny.

"But just because you're useless as a man, that doesn't mean you'll be any better as a girl, as my wife. And before I agree to let you be my wife, I need to see what you look like as a girl." She actually grimaced and shook her head.

"So are you prepared to show me what you look like as a girl? What you'd look like if – and I emphasize the word IF – I agree to let you pretend to be a girl and serve me as my little housewife?"

I couldn't believe my ears. Could I really be hearing her right? Was she actually thinking about letting me be her wife, to dress up as a girl – to live as a girl, as her little subservient housewife? It would be a dream come true, and I lost no time begging her to let me show her what a pretty feminine girl I could be for her.

"Oh, god, Miss Jennifer. Yes, please...please let me be a girl for you. Let me show you how pretty I can be, how feminine and sweet I can be for you. Please? Please could I? Please let me get dressed up and show you that I could be a good little housewife for you, please?"

She took a big deep breath and then slowly let it out in a huge sigh. "Well...all right. I guess I'm willing to think about it. Let's see what you look like as a girl, whether you're even remotely feminine and pretty, and maybe I'll actually consider letting you pretend to be a girl, to pretend to be my wife."

She giggled, shook her head and raised one eyebrow. "So – get to it. Go dress yourself up as well as you can, then when you've made yourself as pretty and feminine as possible, you come back and knock on my door – and we'll see. I expect you'll look ridiculous, not like a real girl at all, just some absurd attempt by a little faggot to look like a girl, and if that's all I see, then forget it. I'm not interested. If you're going to be my wife, my sweet, obedient little housewife, then you'll have to be sweet and pretty and feminine, and you'll have to walk, talk, dress and act like a pretty little housewife every second of every day." Then she flashed me a quick smirk and said, "So you'd better get started. Go make yourself as pretty as you can, then come to my room and we'll see." With that she turned away into her room, slamming the door behind her.

I stood there for a moment, looking at the door, almost unable to grasp what she'd just said, but then I realized that she had actually told me that I could be her wife, her sweet pretty feminine little housewife! My dreams had come true! I could live as a girl, be a girl all day, every day, and I knew that was something that I'd always wanted, so long as she approved of the way I looked. And I knew that I could do that.

I'd been dressing up as a girl for so long, wearing lingerie, nylons, high heels, a wig and makeup, shaving my legs, underarms, chest and crotch, and had admired myself in the mirror so many times, that I knew I could do it. So I decided that was what I would do – make myself as sweet, pretty, feminine and lovely as possible, and then go show her what a pretty little wife I could be for her. I just knew I could do it.

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bytiffanyfoxe© 7 comments/ 68151 views/ 20 favorites

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