tagTranssexuals & CrossdressersMy Wife the Womanizer

My Wife the Womanizer

byCouture©

The doorbell rang and my heart galloped, as it always did whenever the bell rang. If I kept totally focused on what Mistress wanted, everything was usually okay. However, unforeseen events, like doorbells for instance, almost always spelled trouble.


I hurried to find my Mistress and curtsied automatically as I entered her room. "Mistress, there is someone at the door."

She stood with her back to me, stepping into a small black dress. "You think I don't know that," she said. "Zip me bitch."

I could feel myself grow aroused at the sight of her half naked body. You're just the maid - you're just the maid, I repeated in my head. I zipped her dress and picked a stray piece of lint off her shoulder.

"I want you to go let the guest in now Stacy and show her to the living room. It is going to be very important that you remember your lessons. You might say this is a KEY moment."

My heart went beyond racing - it galloped, it pounded, it gonged at the mention of a key. Yet through it all, I managed to keep my expression neutral. 'Smiling and submissive, smiling and submissive,' I repeated to myself.

"You do you remember your lessons, don't you Stacy?"

"Oh yes Mistress," I said, and I grabbed the hem of my short skirt, lifted it, and curtsied deeply. "Slut Stacy is happy, Mistress. Happy and eager, but she has such a hard time thinking. It's good she has a kind, smart, and generous mistress like you."

I batted my eyes, pointed my toes together in my tall high-heeled shoes, giggled and licked my lips seductively. There was an art in acting like such a slutty bimbo, and it hadn't come easy, but by now it was second nature.

"Very good Stacy. See that you remember or I will send you off again."

I fell to my knees and proceeded to lick her heels. I worshipped them with my tongue, begged her not to send me away, and meant it.

"Stop your sniveling slut," she said. "Do something useful like anwering the door."

I got up, curtsied again, and turned to leave.

"Remember Stacy, happy, eager, and submissive."

"Oh yes, Mistress." I said, smiling and curtsying. How could I ever forget?

I hurried downstairs, opened the door, bowing as I did so. "Welcome to the Arlington residence. . .Whoopsie daisy!" My breast's spilled out of the low cup top just as they were supposed to. Of course I had to act surprised and stupid about the whole thing. I placed my hand over my nipples, and was just about to go into my 'naughty girls, you know better than that routine, when I glanced up at the visitor. I couldn't continue for a moment when I recognized the guest. It was Stacy! The real Stacy! My real Stacy. I closed my eyes momentarily and concentrated. God, this was bad. Really fucking bad. Happy Eager Submissive Bimbo Fuck Toy Happy Eager Submissive Bimbo Fucktoy, I repeated in my mind. You are just the maid Stacy. Only the maid.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in character. "Mistress Amanda will be down shortly. Please follow me. I think it's this way"

"Thank you," she said, without a hint of recognition in her eyes. I could hear the amusement in her voice.

I led her to the living room, knowing full well she was watching me walk. I had practiced it often enough, and now it was second nature as I brought my foot forward and stepped inside the other with every step, rolling my hips as I did so. It was a walk that would shame a prostitute or exotic dancer. My uniform was so short that it allowed whoever was behind me to see the cheeks of my bottom peek out with every step.

I showed her to the living room. Stacy sat on the couch, while I waited patiently by the door, trying not to look at her, trying to blend in with the scenery, so she wouldn't notice me - wouldn't notice who I was. I quivered inside, trembling in fear, wondering what my Mistress had planned.

Waiting was agony, but thankfully, it wasn't but a few minutes before Amanda entered the room.

"Hello, Stacy, so nice of you to drop by," Amanda said, taking Stacy's hands and clasping them, before sitting down next to her.

"What is it exactly that you want?" Stacy asked, unsure of herself, and letting the question hang.

"Well Dearie, I was so wrapped up in myself at first, you know, after Adam disappeared, that I really didn't think about anyone else. But eventually I felt quite guilty when I realized you must be going through a lot of grief yourself. So I thought we could have a chat and maybe rest your mind a bit."

"Uh-what do you mean?" Stacy said, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

"Dear, I know all about you and Adam. There's nothing to worry about. I don't have a problem with it."

Stacy removed a hand from Amanda's grasp and pressed it to her breast. "Whew," she said. "Are you sure? God, I about peed myself when you called and asked me to come over here."

Amanda patted Stacy on the knee, in mock consolation. "Not at all dear. I feel sorry for you in a way, because Adam was never much of a lover."

My face burned as she continued.

"But you do have to understand that I did get very upset with my husband. I mean, he couldn't even satisfy the woman he had at home and there he was flitting around like he was Mr. Man or something."

Amanda took a small bell from the table and rang it. "Stacy," she said to me. "Be a dear and go get us a glass of wine. Something red."

"Yes, Mistress," I said, curtsying quickly before Stacy looked in my direction.

I was trembling as I poured the wine. Happy-Eager-Submissive-Fucktoy, I repeated to try to still my shaking hands. Things weren't looking good for me, but Mistress had mentioned the key. I needed the key more than anything. I repeated my mantra and thought about the key, and plastered a dumb smile on my face.

Mistress Amanda took a glass of wine off the silver tray I carried and gave the other to Stacy. "Don't you think it's funny Stacy, how your name is Stacy and my maid is also named Stacy."

Oh God, here it was.

Stacy's brow wrinkled with uncertainty. "I guess it could be funny, but lots of people are named Stacy," she said, looking at me as if for support. Her eyes saying, do you have to put up with this often?

If only she knew what I had to put up with. This was nothing.

"I think the similarity goes beyond names," said Amanda. "Look closer, the resemblance between you two is uncanny."

Amanda looked at me closer this time. She recognized why her eyes were drawn to me earlier. I did look like her. But while she was professionally dressed and wore minimal makeup, I was dressed in a humiliating maid's outfit, my waist shrunken to tiny proportions due to a restrictive corset, my breasts, though the same size as hers, were thrust up, practically spilling out of my low-cut top, and my face was heavily made up.

"Well, she does look a little like me," Stacy said.

"A little?" Amanda said. "I daresay you could have been sisters. But enough about family, let's talk about lovers." To me: "Speaking of lovers. Stacy, why don't you go fetch your boyfriend and bring him here."

Oh God, it was happening. I curtsied, and saw Stacy head turn in my direction. I wondered if she had seen the glint of metal. If she hadn't she would soon enough.

I went to the bedroom, opened up the trunk and got out my 'boyfriend'. Amazing it could still make me blush. It wasn't just the size, but the shape. Twelve inches long, so wide that I couldn't close my hand around it. Flesh colored with realistic bumpy veins and a large bulbous head. I went to the bathroom, took out the KY, and lubricated my rear passage. Happy-eager-submissive-bimbo-fucktoy, I repeated as I went back to the living room to face the consequences of my past life.

When I came in the room with the strap-on dildo in my hands, Stacy's eyes opened wide in shock and panic.

"Don't worry Dear," Amanda consoled her. That's *my* Stacy's boyfriend, and I don't think she wants to share, do you dear?"

"Oh no Mistress," I said, falling into my role easily, as I had done so many times before. Always the same. Always having to beg. I begged even when I used to hate it. I begged even now, even when it terrified me that I was beginning to crave it. "Oh please Mistress, Slut Stacy's pussy is so horny. Her little girl needs a good fucking. Please Mistress, please fuck Slut Stacy with her boyfriend."

Mistress Amanda smiled wickedly taunting me. "I don't believe you even like your boyfriend. Maybe we should give him to Stacy?"

"Oh no! Slut Stacy loves her boyfriend." I kissed the head of the latex cock. I could taste and smell myself on it. I used to hate it, but I didn't mind so much now. Next, I turned it to the side, pushed it in and out of my mouth, knowing full well how much of a slut I looked like with the cock pushing though the wall of my cheek. I refused to look at Stacy. I could only imagine what was going through her mind.

Mistress stood up and turned around. I knew what was next. She spread her legs slightly and stuck out her arse. "Beg me for it bitch," she said.

I fell to my knees. I pulled down her panties with my teeth. While she held the hem of her skirt up, I pushed apart the cheeks of her bottom and planted a kiss of respect on her arsehole. Then I tried to push my tongue as far up her rear tunnel as I could. Humming happily and making sucking sounds as I did so. I tried my best to forget about Stacy witnessing my debasement. Happy, eager, submissive fuck toy, I repeated in my mind. You're just a maid. Your Mistress's lesbian slave lover.

Most mornings, I would wake Mistress in the mornings by making love to her arse. I did it gently and then with more passion as she grew aroused. That was for her pleasure. But now I was begging, and expected to act like the deprived slut I was, and Mistress took great pleasure in my humiliation. "Oh yeah, that's it. Get it on up in there," she said. "You love it don't you bitch?"

I moaned my response.

"Uh, I think I better leave," I heard Stacy say.

"Sit!" my Mistress commanded. Then she realized she wasn't talking to me, but to someone was wasn't quite so eager or submissive, and then her tone softened. "Just a few minutes more Stacy. If you leave, I'm going to do something to hurt this little bitch, and you don't want that to happen now, do you?"

"Sorry," Stacy said, giving me a look of concern, but not that much concern. "B-but I gotta go."

"Convince her slut." Amanda said.

I peeked around Mistress's arse. "Please Stacy. Please don't go. She'll hurt me. She will." My eyes welled with tears and my chin trembled. I could play the part of victim as easily as I could play bimbo. Stacy eased back into her seat. She still looked over toward the door to make sure the path was clear. I couldn't blame her. I wish I had been able to leave long ago.

"Strap it on me Slut," Mistress commanded.

I picked up the strap on, inserted the smaller end, into Mistress's sex. I buckled the straps around her thighs and waist; I could do it in my sleep.

"Come here slut." Mistress pointed to the floor at her feet, directly in front of Stacy. "Down here in front of me."

I dropped to my hands and knees in front of her and in front of Stacy. I gazed down at her shoes - sensible sandals that matched her sundress. I would never be allowed to wear either. My heels were always impossibly high. My dresses short and tight. My outfits were anything but sensible, I was only allowed to wear maid's outfits, schoolgirl uniforms, nurse's uniforms, nun's habits with the back cut out. These were my clothes. And you know what they say . . . the clothes make the person.

Mistress knelt behind me and pressed the head of the dildo against my opening. "Do you want it slut?"

"Oh yes Mistress. Slut Stacy's little girl needs her boyfriend's big fat dick. Slut Stacy needs to be fucked. Fuck her little girl. Fuck her hot twat."

She drove it into me then and there. Fucking me. Fucking me right in front of Stacy. I was so close to her, my head would occasionally bounce into her knee. She looked at the door, trying to ignore what was going on right in front of her.

I grunted and groaned. I rutted. I sucked my fingers. I squealed. I pulled on the rings that pierced my nipples. I was an eager, happy, submissive fuck toy. To listen to me, you would think I was multi-orgasmic. However the cold truth was, I hadn't cum for quite some time - a very long time. Yet, occasionally it felt like I would be able to and this was one of those times. However, I couldn't quite make it happen.

I wiggled my ass and pushed back against my Mistress, meeting her stroke for stroke. Meeting her eagerly. I curled my toes and bit my lip, putting on my best orgasm face. "Ugh-ugh-Slut Stacy's gonna cum. Oh fuck - oh fuck, gonna cum so hard!"

Amanda slapped my ass and pulled my head back by my hair. "You love it don't you Slut. You love getting fucked, don't you? I said *don't you*?"

"Slut Stacy loves it. She loves it so much. Oh God-god Hu-hu-hu-here it cums. The biggest cum ever . . . fuck - oh fuck - it's killing me. Mmmm-mmmm---mmmmppph- cumming." I was faking of course. But, I was good at it. Meg Ryan was a fucking amateur. If they gave out academy awards for faking orgasms, I would be a sure winner. Mistress made sure of it, made sure I could fool anyone. I learned that trick the first time she sent me away. By now I could almost fool myself.

I arched my body one final time and kissed Stacy's knee. She pulled it away from me.

"Can I go now?" she said.

"Just one more moment Stacy," Amanda said, as she grabbed me under my arms and pulled me up against her. My breasts had been bared during my fucking. She hooked her fingers in the rings through my pierced nipples and pulled until I moaned. I held my hands laced behind my neck obediently. I didn't need to be told.

Her hand traveled down my stomach and moved to the hem of my skirt. The blood pounded in my ears. Then she did it. She raised my skirt and displayed me to Stacy.

"Are you sure you don't recognize anything?" Amanda asked, squeezing my balls and pulling my sleeved cock away from my body.

"Oh my God," Stacy gasped. "She has a penis. She is a . . .she is a he!"

I could my heart pounding as the blood flowed to my blushing cheeks.

"More than that," Amanda laughed. "You've slept with her. You used to be lovers."

"Adam?" Stacy looked at my face, searching and unable to find any trace of my former existence, except for my tears. "Oh my God. Adam! But that's impossible."

"Nothing's impossible," Amanda said. "I'm a plastic surgeon and I've had quite a lot of time on my hands. Time enough to change Adam into what you see here."

"You did this on purpose?" Stacy cupped my face in her hands then turned to Amanda. "Made him look like me. What on earth would you do that for?"

"He wanted you. I simply gave him what he wanted, didn't I, slut?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"You let her do this to you?" Stacy asked; her face incredulous.

"Yes," I admitted, repeating my mantra, happy eager submissive bimbo, in my head. It was true. I had let her do it to me. Had even asked for some of it, thinking it would be something else. But now I couldn't explain to her that I'd been tricked. No that would certainly be against the rules. Eager- yes, I had to be eager. I couldn't tell her that Amanda had found out about us, found out that I intended to leave her to live with Stacy, just as we'd agreed. That I'd had no warning. That one day Amanda merely mentioned that I was getting a little fat around my middle and under my chin.

"You should let me take care of that for you," she'd said.

It sounded good at first. It would make me more attractive to Stacy and it would be my last opportunity to have it done for free. I should have known better. I should have suspected, but I was greedy and I agreed. Told everyone I was going on an extended vacation, just like my wife suggested. Just like all the stars did it.

It didn't work out like I had planned. Not by a long shot.

When I woke up, my wife greeted me with tears. Crocodile tears. "There's been a terrible mistake, but don't worry. I'm the best at what I do. I'll have you back in shape before you know it."

I kissed her. I felt guilty for cheating on her. Can you believe it? Felt ashamed for falling in love with another woman. So I consented to other 'corrective' operations. I needed to at that point. Would Stacy want some mangled leper of a man? No, I was sure she wouldn't. There were many other operations, and I never guessed the truth about them. Not until I was home and the bandages were removed.

The first thing I noticed was breasts. Nice perky beautiful womanly breasts. Breasts that belonged on a woman, not a man. I tried to scream but my wife easily gagged me. I tried to fight back, but she easily overpowered me. It was then I discovered I was weaker than before. What has she done to me?

She took out a mirror and showed me the rest of her work. God, it was horrible. My body was beautiful, but it was the body of my mistress and not my own. I feared for the loss of my cock, the rest could be fixed one way or another. But it was there, thank the Lord it was down there safe and sound.

My cock was still down there, but there was a problem. There was some sort of ring locked around it. A KTB she told me. I learned later that KTB is short for Kali's Teeth Bracelet, a small tube that fits around your cock. It's the teeth part that gets you. When you get aroused, your cock expands . . . and comes into contact with sharp pointy spikes.

Did you know that you get hard in your sleep? I'm sure you do. Now, try to imagine waking up to sharp objects sticking into your cock. Imagine for a moment being teased by your wife and forced to think of other things to avoid being aroused. Here let me help you out. Don't think of a pussy. See what I mean? It was horrible torture. A thousand times I wanted to leave, but my wife had insisted she would change me back once I learned my lesson. Learned what it was like to be used.

It was then that I found out that my body wasn't all she wanted to change. Once that was complete, she wanted more.

"Stacy, if you want me to take Kali off tonight, maybe you could do one little thing for me. . ."

I hated her calling me Stacy. It dehumanized me. Turned me into the object of her vengeance.

"I really like the idea of Stacy being my maid," my wife said. "But, I think I would like to see her have a better attitude about things. I think a pretty smile and a nice curtsy when she sees me would be nice."

"Yes dear," I answered.

"Ahem. . ." she said. "Forgetting something?"

"Yes dear," I curtsied.

"Lower, and remember to smile now. Nice and pretty. Eager Stacy, think Eager."

"Yes, dear." I tried again. I wanted to crawl under the table. It was humiliating enough to be forced into a maid's uniform. But this, this was sheer and utter degradation.

"And you should call me Mistress from now on. I don't take kindly to familiarity with the help."

I bit my lip to keep from saying something in anger. This was intolerable.

"I guess we should leave you and Kali alone to think on it tonight," she smiled.

"No, please don't," I said. Quickly adding, "Mistress." And plastering a fake smile on my face, squatting down low, and lifting the hem of my short skirt high.

"Yes, think on that tonight Stacy," Mistress said. "In the morning, I intend to give you much more to think about. But meanwhile, since you want to be so familiar with me." She lifted her skirt and slipped down her panties. "Here's something for you to become familiar with. Give me a kiss ."

I did, reluctantly and resentfully. I had to, I realized, in order to get rid of that awful KTB. But the next morning I was in so much in pain from it and so angry that I was unable to keep up any pretense that I was her dutiful maid. I was still threatening her when I was grabbed from behind and held rigid.

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byCouture© 5 comments/ 197069 views/ 20 favorites

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