We Need a Man in the House

A few minutes later, I heard them leave. Laughter rang out from the two of them as they walked to his car. Silence followed. Suspicious thoughts entered my head. A comparison between Ron and myself could not be favorable, at least for me. Carol must be thinking that Ron is much more of a man than I am, especially after seeing me dressed like a slut.

As slumber drifted near, I thought maybe I should remove the feminine clothes. And I thought I should sleep in my own bed. But as my hands ran across the smooth texture of the expensive sheets that I abandoned the thoughts and succumbed to sleep.

Waking up an hour or so later I decided to check to see if Carol got home all right. After I dialed, the phone rang and rang even though I knew she had an extension in the bedroom. Finally, she answered. Her voice sounded strained as if she was out of breath.

"Carol? It's me, Donnie." I thought I heard whispering in the background as she held her hand over the mouthpiece.

"Donnie, why are you still awake? I told you to get some sleep. Are you purposely trying to anger me? You know I don't like it when you disobey me." It sounded like soft smacking in the background and Carol seemed to emit a tiny, choking sound.

"I just wanted to make sure you got home all right," I explained contritely. The last thing I wanted was to get her mad at me. There was a pause before she responded. Her voice was very low when she answered.

"Ok, Donnie. Go to sleep now like a good girl and I'll see you tomorrow," she said brokenly. She groaned.

Setting aside her gender error in my concern for her well-being, I asked. "Are you ok?" She was breathing very deeply.

"Yes. I'm fine. Excellent in fact. I'm just very tired. Goodbye." Just before she hung up I thought she stifled a scream but maybe I was still a little groggy from the events of the day.

The next morning found me very refreshed. The dream that stayed with me as I floated back into consciousness was about Ron and Carol. The images were still clear. As I remembered, I walked into my own bedroom to discover the two of them coupled together, he on top of her, screwing her with his massive tool. Standing in the doorway, I watched as Carol screamed out in pleasure. I was dressed in her lingerie and I was playing with my little guy as I watched.

That's when I woke up, surprisingly, with a hard on.

Yawning, I rolled over. The first impression I had while wide-awake was the wonderful feel of the clothes I was wearing. Clad in sexy underwear, underneath the smooth satin sheets, I felt warm, good—safe. Reluctantly, I arose and removed the precious clothes, placing them in Carol's hamper. In the mood I was in, I decided to take a bath instead of taking a shower.

As I drew the bath water, I added some deliciously scented bath liquids that Carol used all the time. Soaking in the hot water felt so wonderful that I stayed there for quite a while. While lathering the little stubbles of hair on my legs poked out and I thought that it must have been very difficult for Carol to shave me while I was unconscious.

Well, I thought, I might as well finish the job she started and do it right. However, it was much harder than I imagined. Scraping every nook and cranny took more grace than I seemed to have.

"Being a woman isn't as easy as it looks," I mumbled. "It appears to take a lot of effort."

After drying, I put on some of Carol's powder. It felt heavenly—so refreshing that I wondered why men didn't use it all the time. Carol's favorite perfume beckoned. Spraying the mist around my body, carefully choosing some intimate places, I squirted the wonderful scent liberally. Housework lay ahead but still I wanted to be decent as well as comfortable.

By nature I am too modest to walk around nude so I slipped on a brief, terry robe that Carol loafed around in, and returned to my new bedroom, Carol's room. The immediate task was to transfer my stuff to this room.

The drawers in the dresser were filled with many of Carol's dainty underwear. From the very beginning of the relationship I promised she would have an unlimited budget on anything she wanted from Frederick's of Hollywood and Victoria's Secret and she took advantage of my largesse. There were few styles that she hadn't purchased.

Without any extra space in the dresser, I was left with a dilemma. Where was I going to put all of my things?

While deliberating the conundrum, I subconsciously began to caress the soft, sexy clothes. Under a stack of panties were packages of unopened nylons.

"Carol mentioned that the doctor advised me to wear something tight around my jewels, to help ease the pain," I whispered. Part of my brain screamed I shouldn't, but my libido overcame the caution.

I decided to wear nylons, at least for another day. After all, the ache still existed.

Sitting on the bed, I pulled the sheer pair up my leg, careful not to snag them. I had practice. There were many times I had helped Carol dress so I was familiar with the subtleties of women's attire and knew enough to bunch up the nylons and ease them on by carefully rolling them up my legs.

Comfortable with being alone, I checked out my appearance. Under the simple robe the nylons made a good start. Toying with my hair, as it flopped down over my forehead, I decided to keep it out of my eyes. If I was going to work I probably should wear it up. One of Carol's pretty scarves did the trick and I wrapped it around the top of my head. The scarf was rather attractive, a feminine, bluish, floral thing. It certainly brought out the shade of my eyes.

Working diligently, I managed to get most of my stuff out of Ron's bedroom and moved over to mine, filling many boxes. There wasn't time enough to unload everything before I heard the doorbell ring. Without considering my state of dress, I went to answer it. As the door swung open, a startled Ron confronted me. His shocked look made me realize that I was clad rather inappropriately. My face turned beet red.

"Well, Donnie, you sure do like to dress up," he said. Before I could respond he handed me his suitcase and walked right by me. "Why don't you put my stuff away while I take a swim? Then we can lunch at the pool."

As I carried the heavy bag to his bedroom I thought to myself that I should have argued with him or at least reacted in an angry way but something about his air of superiority kept me from disagreeing with him. It was almost as if he had some power over me, like he was the one in control. For some reason I found it easier to give in to him. It seemed natural to do as he said. I tried to ignore the stirring in my groin whenever he was around.

Tugging the suitcase inside the room I heaved it on top of the bed.

"Well, as long as I carted it this far I might as well put his things away. After all, he won't know where everything goes." As I unpacked and handled the articles, I discovered Ron owned very manly clothes. Most of his underwear was bikini-like in nature. As I held a black pair in hand I imagined how tight they must be on his masculine body.

Putting the sexy articles away made me feel a bit strange, as though touching some exotic array of yesterday. It was very similar to the odd sensation I got when I put on some of Carol's fluffy stuff.

My next surprise was found underneath the layer of socks and briefs. All sorts of leather apparel were discovered. Black leather pants, a matching vest, and some underwear that looked sinister. Just touching the dominating material made me feel giddy.

When I finished the task in the bedroom, I hurried to make lunch. A couple of roast beef sandwiches and a beer should suffice I thought.

Minutes later I walked to the pool and found him sprawled out on a lounge chair. My eyes ran up and down his muscular torso. His trunks fit tight and bulged at the crotch.

For a moment I paused. He looked like a dark Greek god.

"Here's your lunch, Ron," I said meekly as I set the tray on the table next to him. He glanced up and motioned me to serve him. I did. As he ate, tiny breadcrumbs fell to his broad, hairy chest. Like a lowly lackey, I stood next to him unsure of my position as I waited his instructions.

"You forgot the napkin," he stated. As I started to rush to the kitchen to retrieve one Ron stopped me. "Never mind, just brush the crumbs off."

The words were not spoken menacingly yet I felt that it was important I obey.

Bending over was too far of a reach so I knelt alongside the chair. Once on my knees I felt the strangest sensation. His power seemed to exude from every pore. Up close, it was even more apparent how masculine and strong he was. At the moment, I felt more than just a servant, I felt like a slave of a Roman master, no, like a slave to his black Nubian master.

Slowly, almost reverentially, I brushed the crumbs from his broad chest with my small hands, sweeping them to the side. My fingers felt the tough nipples on his sinewy chest and hesitated as though wanting more.

It was at that particular moment when Carol walked out.

"I see Donnie is being very helpful," she said with a smug grin on her face. As she walked by me, she gave the top of my head a friendly pat. Leaning down she kissed Ron on the mouth, her tongue groping his. He reached up and pinched her nipple. Gasping in surprise, I felt a flash of jealousy sear through me, but then, with the little guy stirring in my panties, I discovered that somewhere deep inside my perverted psyche I enjoyed the humiliating scene. If anything I felt envious of Carol.

"After all," Carol stated as she came up for air, "we must do everything we can to make our new guest's stay enjoyable." She shot Ron a suggestive look and gave him a very seductive wink. Her hand caressed his arm. He returned her smile and made room for her to sit alongside him. Sitting on the edge of his chair, with her hand still clinging to his arm, she turned to face me.

"Donnie, I bought some things for you and laid them on your bed. Be a good girl an go change into them?"

As they both watched my reaction, I nodded meekly and left, ignoring the sounds of pleasure they made.

The masculine part of my brain, what was left of it, threw out a scream of anger, but as I walked away the heat was battled by a surge of raw lust. Simultaneous yet conflicting emotions boiled inside me. There was something very emasculating yet extremely exciting at the bizarre scene. Carol was my girlfriend and I wanted to keep her, but it was easy to see her attraction to the rugged and masculine Ron.

A quick stop in the bathroom provided a towel to wipe the sweat from my brow. My heart was thumping with desire. The reflection in the mirror showed a poor imitation of a female servant. Surely, I could do better. Wondering what Carol bought for me to wear, I headed for the bedroom.

As I glanced inside, I was overcome with a new sensation and the little guy tingled with anticipation. Laid out on the bed was a French maid's uniform complete with a cute little white hat and a frilly, embroidered apron.

My Gemini nature fought again. There was a part of me that felt eager to don the servile outfit. There was another part of me that demanded I reject the insulting attire. It seemed I was in a constant state of confusion ever since Ron showed up. As I thought about the arrogant man, a pang of jealousy ran through me. It was difficult to deny that he and Carol were developing a relationship. It didn't take him long to become intimate with my girl.

For a moment I wondered how far had the two had gone last night.

The flow of jealousy continued as I considered the kissing going on outside. I visualized Carol's soft lips yielding to his full, thick ones.

I stopped. A bizarre notion ran through my mind. Was I jealous of Ron kissing my girl or did I somehow wish I were in her place?

Mustering one last ounce of courage I headed to the pool. Carol saw me approach and jumped up, out of his arms.

"What are you doing here, Donnie? Didn't I tell you to go get dressed?" Her voice had risen to almost a yell.

"But Carol, I can't wear that. It's a maid's costume," I muttered, embarrassed at my meek reply.

"Donnie, what is your problem today?"

"Well, this is my house and you're my girl..." I was losing my line of reasoning as I saw the anger build in both of their eyes.

"How dare you disobey me?" Her hand lashed out and slapped me squarely on the cheek. Embarrassed by her display and my inability to react, I didn't know whether to be mad or chagrined. She had never hit me before. The strange thing was that pain didn't bother me. It was not nearly as strong an emotion as the feeling of humiliation that I felt. Once again though, the humiliating aspect of the situation caused a definite stirring in my panties. I was oddly aroused.

Trying to regain some vestige of respect, I explained. "I can't wear that outfit, Carol," I pleaded. "Why can't we make Ron leave so we can be like before? Didn't you like it that way?" My voice was rising in timbre, almost begging. My hands grabbed her shoulders in desperation.

Suddenly, Ron was beside us. He towered over me like an adult would a child. Even alongside me I could tell he was so big and so strong. Glancing at him I saw his eyes blaze, turning cold and serious. The penetrating look frightened and excited me at the same time. He put a hand on my arm. Instantly, I released Carol from my grasp.

"You have to learn to do as we say." To emphasize his point, he pushed me rather casually. Unable to resist even the slightest shove from this powerful man, I flew away from him and fell into the pool. Swimming quickly to the opposite edge, I scampered out and ran for the bathroom, water dripping from my clothes.

Once inside the pink room, I stripped the drenched articles from my body, casting them into the hamper. Grabbing a large, fluffy towel I dried myself off. As I powdered my soft skin Carol entered. She smiled, pleased when she saw me performing the feminine duty. Caught off-guard, I covered my nakedness with my hands, suddenly embarrassed at the sight of my shrunken member cowering meekly.

"Donnie," Carol cooed sweetly. When she spoke in this tone I always melted. "If you wear the outfit, I promise I'll give you a special treat tonight."

That's all it took. My heart fluttered with both love and lust and my shrunken soldier stirred. Sticking up a proud three inches, the valiant appendage responded with vigor to the sound of her promise. Succumbing to her demand I nodded my assent. It seemed so easy to give in. All I ever wanted was to please her.

Satisfied that I was now obedient, Carol helped me dress. As I donned the feminine outfit I felt an incredible thrill, loving the way it felt against my skin. The nylons, the panties, and the cute little dress made me feel so sexy, so desirable, and so vibrant.

"You're such a good girl, Donnie. Make sure you apologize to Ron for your misbehavior. If you do, I'll help you put on your makeup. Will you do that?" I nodded, bowing my head like the servant I was becoming.

She spent a lot of time showing me the subtle things I could do to make everything just right, allowing me to practice so I looked perfect. With deliberate care she plucked my bushy eyebrows, making the look softer, more feminine. My lips were painted bright red, as she demonstrated how to kiss the tissue to insure leaving just the proper amount. The eye shadow was applied artfully, a little overdone for my taste but it did give me a wanton appearance which I had to admit fit my French maid role. When she was finished we both gazed into the mirror at my appearance. Fixing my hair so it held the little white hat, she completed the picture.

To my surprise, I looked the perfect image of a saucy, tart French maid. Also, I looked a little bit racy, as though I wanted to be spanked.

"Now go tell Ron that you're sorry about what you said and that you want him to stay." She peered into my eyes and said, "We need a man about the house...don't you agree?"

Slowly, ever so slowly, I nodded. With that gesture, I abandoned any ideas of fulfilling the role myself and began my transition to becoming their servant.

When I minced my way outside on the high heels she provided, I found Ron in the midst of exercising. His rugged ebony muscles gleamed with perspiration, accenting his perfect body. In the bright sunlight, he exuded strength, manliness, and authority.

As I approached in a meek and subservient manner, he stopped. His intense eyes pierced mine as if ready for another confrontation but as he observed my outfit, he relaxed with a grin.

Confidently, he waited as I neared. At this point, he was in control of the situation and we both knew it. Instead of anger, some part of me was excited at the thought of surrendering to him. This new sensation was overwhelming me and I found I was enjoying the little humiliations of the day.

"Ron," I stated as I bowed my head in a demonstration of servility, "I'm sorry about what happened. I apologize for what I said and did. And the way I acted. It won't happen again. I'll be good." The interesting part was that my apology was legitimately sincere. In my heart I felt contrite and very humble especially before this incredibly superior being. Somehow the act of submission felt not only appropriate, but, in a perverse way, very arousing. Pleased at my humbling apology, he nodded his approval.

Later that evening, after spending the day doing chores, I served the two of them dinner, using every culinary skill to prepare an elaborate meal, complete with an expensive wine and highlighted with candles to establish the mood. To my delight they seemed to enjoy the meal. Doing my best to stay out of the way, I scurried around keeping their glasses full and their courses served while keeping quiet and unobtrusive.

After the meal, they retired into the living room with their brandies, ignoring me completely which only served to add to my feeling of being their servant.

For my part, I cleaned up the table, washed the dishes and then waited by the door to see if they needed anything else.

Through the thin woodwork, I heard the clear sounds of an erotic and sensual encounter. Moaning, by Carol, followed by grunts from Ron were the only noises with the exception of Carol calling out his name during a series of orgasms.

Prior to this day I would have imagined I would have felt both anger and jealousy listening to my girl being taken by another man, even a man the caliber of Ron. Instead, I was becoming aroused as I eavesdropped on their passion. The thought of two perfect beings engaged in a bout of lovemaking was driving me wild with lust.

As I listened, I couldn't help wondering about the two. Carol was sexy, beautiful, everything a man ever wanted in a woman. Ron was a perfect specimen of the ideal lover. Who did I envy more? Who would I rather be?

The ambiguity I felt was my tearing me apart.

Did I want to be Ron in this situation—a big, strong manly man, as absurd as that seemed in my current state? Or did I want to be Carol and be ravished by this Adonis?

Finally, Carol called for me, telling me to go ahead and go to bed. Her instructions came just in time as I almost had succumbed to pulling the little guy out of my panties and satisfying myself.

As I washed myself in the bathroom, she stuck her head in.

"Wait up for me tonight sweetie; I'm going to give you something special." My face lit up. She kissed my cheek and patted my fanny. "You'll enjoy it, I promise."

It took longer than usual to prepare for bed just to wash off the makeup. Passing their bedroom, the master bedroom, my old room, I heard Carol groaning in a way she never groaned with me. The intense passion in her voice was a new sound and I found myself wondering how exactly Ron was able to arouse her to such heights. The bed squeaked and a steady rhythm ensued.