Magic Dress - Karen

CHAPTER 1

It was an equal marriage. Except that we didn't have a ceremony or certificate, because you don't need that these days. We loved each other and lived together as a couple. It was marriage so far as we were both concerned. Margot and Kieran.

We both worked, so it was only fair we shared the household tasks. She did the cooking: I did the washing up. I went past a supermarket on my way home, so I picked up a lot of the shopping. She washed the clothes: I did the vacuuming and cleaned the floors whenever she said they needed doing.

As time went on, she did well at her work and got promoted, whereas I stayed in the same clerical grade. She was annoyed at my lack of drive and progress. I was happy enough, because I didn't want the responsibility which promotion would have meant, and didn't mind younger people moving up above me. My job finished at five.

By contrast she sometimes brought work home, or stayed late for a meeting, or even went away and stayed a night or two. So gradually I took over the washing and the cooking, in fact all the domestic chores.

I didn't mind. It was like my clerical job: there were tasks which needed to be done and I did them properly. Changing the beds, or cleaning the toilet, I knew what to do. She told me what to buy and cook, and decided on things like holidays, or when we went out together to buy clothes or things for the house. Curtains, carpet, furniture.

I don't see why men get upset when their wives earn more than them. I was proud of her, both with her career success and how she looked. She took care of herself and dressed well.

I thought she looked very sexy. However, after ten years we didn't have that much sex.

On Sundays after we had showered, she bent over the bed and I fucked her from behind. It seemed more a duty than a pleasure for her. I told her how wonderful she was and how much I loved her, but she usually said nothing.

When I tried to seduce her during the week she would say "Not now," or "I'm tired" or some such thing.

"Married couples our age only have sex once a week," she sometimes said. "We're just average."

I would have liked more. And I would have liked her to have more. Specifically, to want more: to be like the sex-bomb she dressed as. But I tried to pretend everything was OK.

Till one day it wasn't.

"I'm having an affair," she said, quite calmly at dinner. "No, to be accurate, I have a boyfriend and we have sex a lot, because he's better than you in every way. I know you love me, so you should be glad for me."

In a strange way, she was right. It felt odd that a sexy woman like her was only having a quick poke once a week. Of course, she wasn't. My cock was rigid.

"But I want to have sex with you," I pleaded. "You can do that as well as your boyfriend, can't you?"

She looked at me, and my straining groin.

"I'll toss you off next Sunday, but you mustn't relieve yourself before then. Now I am going off to have sex with George, and I expect the house spick and span when I get back."

It was after midnight when she got back, and I was in bed.

"Pick up my clothes and put them away," she said and I got out. She had always been so careful but these days she just dropped them, knowing I would deal with them.

"I think the green dress will need to go to the drycleaners," she added. "There's semen on it."

That did it.

I got back into bed.

"Shut up and listen," I said.

That got her attention!

"Now you are about to tell me how wonderful your lover was, and how inferior I am."

She pursed her lips.

"But that's OK. I understand and it's important that you do."

"While you were out, I looked through those old magazines we had when we were younger and having a lot more sex."

She opened her mouth, but I shushed her.

"In the jargon, you're a dominant and I'm a submissive. In other words, you're a bully!"

"I'm not!" she said, then went red.

"Yes you are! And you know it, but it's all right. Now I understand, it suits me."

Her mouth opened and closed.

"You can boss me around and treat me like a housemaid. You can have wonderful sex with your boyfriend, and tell me about it, because in a strange way it's a sort of sex between us. I can't give you what you think you want, which is a successful masterful man, but you actually depend on me, both physically, because I do all the jobs, but also emotionally."

"Hold me," she said quietly, and began to cry as I did.

"I couldn't help myself," she sobbed. "I am a bully. I was a bully at school and a bully at work. That's why I got promoted. That's why my team is so successful. And you were just so easy!"

She had to blow her nose.

"I was getting a thrill each time I dominated you more, but was getting more disgusted with myself. I nearly chickened out with George tonight, but he wouldn't let me. I had nearly made up my mind to tell you I was sorry this evening."

She looked at me in a hopeful way which I hadn't seen since the early days.

"Are you sure? I can bully you and you will actually like it?"

"I didn't understand it when we read about femdom those years ago, but now I do. It's weird, but yes. Please boss me around, humiliate me a bit, make me a cuckold. I'm not ready for being hit or tied up, but I expect I'll take it if you decide you need it."

She didn't say anything for a while.

My cock was rigid.

"Really?" she asked looking much brighter. Then she hugged me.

"Oh, I love you!"

I thought we were going to have sex. But I was wrong.

"Now put on that dress," she added.

"Yes, mistress," I said, and went to get it. It was a nice green one, sleeveless with a pleated knee-length skirt. It fitted better than I expected, and I think she was surprised.

She made me kneel down, and told me of her sexual adventures, particularly the marvels of George's cock. Tonight had not been the first time, of course, and there would be many more.

It was the most erotic experience of my life, and I couldn't help but come.

She saw me shaking.

"I'm sorry, mistress," I said. "There is another semen mark on the dress."

She was already laughing as I added "I couldn't help it. I didn't touch myself; I swear!"

She just about recovered to make me bend over the bed and lift my skirt to show my bare bottom. Then she spanked it as hard as she could until we were both helpless with laughter, which wasn't long.

I went to clean myself and wiped the semen with a wet flannel, and put the other clothes in the wash, and her shoes on the rack.

When I came back to the bedroom, there was a nightdress on it.

"Spare room," she said, and I knew it had begun.

The next morning, I was given some lacy panties to wear at work, and my name was now Karen.

CHAPTER 2

It took about two weeks for us to properly understand the situation, and about six months to get into a fairly regular arrangement.

With some hesitation, she had gone onto the rude portions of the internet to find out more about domination, while I had sorted out some articles in the old sex magazines which I thought helped.

The most important thing was knowing where we stood.

She was the boss, and I called her Mistress in our private life.

She commanded, and I obeyed. I had my regular tasks and anything else she had taught me, but essentially no responsibilities, rather like at my job. It was similar to what we had been doing before, but more obvious and understood.

It was sometimes clear that things had not gone well at work for her, and she took it out on me. I was pleased to be useful in this respect, and took the insults and punishments meekly. And of course, she criticised me for being so meek and not a proper man.

The funny thing was that being denied sex was better than just not having sex. Before, we were not having sex because she couldn't be bothered, and did not recognise my desire. Now she recognised my desire almost every day, to get me hard and frustrated. I was having a perverse sort of sexual relation with her almost every day, and I think we both got some sort of satisfaction from it.

This really satisfied the bully in her more than hitting me. However, it seemed that some spanking would be used as punishment when she found some excuse. She used a kitchen spatula to save her hand. It hurt, but not too much. I think if she had gone further, I would have rebelled. It had to be a consensual relationship, so we both had her limits.

On Sunday I was allowed to come, under her supervision. Every so often she would accuse me of having masturbated, and spank me. It also meant no coming on Sunday.

After a while she decided that I was to be a sissy - a man dressed as a girly woman - just in private at first, but she said it would go further. She sorted out some of her excess clothes, and we found some I could wear. We also went out and bought some more, driving to a city 50 miles away to do so.

She considered stockings and suspenders essential. I wore them at work, and even when we went out for a meal together under my trousers. This was always an opportunity for her to try to embarrass me by getting me erect, so it was usually when I was nearly due for a coming.

I had lacy panties, frilly ones and even thongs. I had been taken to a shop in the distant city and humiliated by being measured for a bra and for the assistant to check the fit. Likewise, I had shoes with a low heel for doing housework and some with three-inch heels for serving her and her lover when he eventually came round.

I knew the plan was for me to have higher ones and be taken out in costume, but she was sensible. We didn't try to run before we could walk.

By unspoken agreement the green dress was now mine and my best. Not to be used for housework. To be saved for when I was taken out as a woman.

The uncontrolled quantity was George. He was a busy man with other things to do. Trips to make, sometimes abroad. As a result, Mistress did not get that much sex from him, though it was of course marvellous, and she told me all the details, being satisfied by my arousal and being forbidden to touch myself. A couple of times she went with him to London for a couple of days. I had to drive her to the station wearing a jacket and shirt, but a skirt and stockings.

A trip to Ann Summers in the distant city produced a vibrator and dildo (recommended by the staff) for her, and a set of butt plugs for me. These were humiliating and a bit arousing, and she told me how there would be lots of men to fuck me one day. The aim was to keep me thinking of sex, good or bad, but not allowing me to have it, and be frustrated.

She pleasured herself in the bedroom at least once a day so that I knew it. I sometimes wondered if she was finding the obligation to have lots of orgasms a bit of a chore.

I learned to do my own makeup, and with many punishments, to serve her as a maid in every way.

Once I was fully trained as a maid, she invited George round for a meal and the night. I cooked and served it, of course, but did not eat with them. I would be allowed the left-overs later. He was impressed and named me Karen.

"If only I had a wife like that!" he quipped but Mistress did not smile.

"I mean as well as you as a real wife, darling!" he rapidly added.

I could see what both of us were thinking. We were not married. There was no reason he could not.

Or perhaps there was. How was a successful attractive man like that not married?

"That's why you do so well at work," he extemporized to her. "You've got a wife at home!"

That seemed to go down well.

Once the drinks had been served, I was both praised and humiliated. What a wonderful woman! So pathetic for a man to be like this. Mistress said she had many ideas to humiliate me further.

Then they went to the bedroom. Mistress told me to clear up, but stay down until I was called.

"No, she should be in the bedroom," suggested George.

Mistress was shocked.

"Watching us?"

"No, standing facing the wall! Just listening to our pleasure!"

She hesitated, but agreed.

There was an experiment once where people were asked to either watch a political speech on television or listen to it on the radio. Surprisingly, people were much better at detecting insincerity, lies and evasions if they listened.

It seemed to me that they were not having as good a time as they were trying to make out. Perhaps understandable, having to perform for an audience. I did not believe it when she said "I'm coming!"

Then George said something, and Mistress said "Come here, Karen and clean up George's wonderful cock."

He said something.

"You will call him Sir," she corrected herself. "Clean his cock then clean me."

I sucked his cock clean and then licked the sperms dripping from her pussy.

It was quite good. She had never let me give her oral sex because she thought it was dirty. When I had come inside her, I had often fantasised about licking her clean afterwards, but had never dared. It wasn't my sperms, but it was an achievement at last. I explored her with great interest until she told me that was enough, though I fancied she was getting a bit excited, and I could probably have brought her off if I had tried. Perhaps she also didn't want it because of loss of control.

I had never fancied sucking a cock, but it was all right. I was having sex of a sort with both of them. My cock was stiff and I was fairly happy.

"Will there be anything else, Mistress?" I asked. "Or shall I go and clean up downstairs? What shall I do about breakfast?"

They whispered together.

"No, that will do, but leave your bedroom door open in case we call for you in the night for anything."

They whispered together again.

"Full English at 8 o'clock, and be sure the bathroom is ready at seven."

"Yes, Mistress," I said, thinking that giving me orders might be a bit of a burden for them on what should be a relaxed night and day of pleasure.

The main thing I heard in the night was a loud fart, and some unconvincing sexual enjoyment about half-past six. I had been up at six, of course, and there were fresh towels in the bathroom, plus George's shirt from his case on a hanger and fresh socks and underpants.

I had not been told to do anything in the bedroom, so his trousers were probably on the bedroom floor. Not my responsibility.

CHAPTER 3

In the morning I left them watching TV as I dealt with the bedroom, packed George's bag, and dealt with the breakfast things. Then I served them coffee and waited.

George praised me, and Mistress could not disagree because he was praising her efforts. I was so obedient, and well dressed, even a bit pretty, though I could have done with a better wig. He had seen me in two outfits. Did I have any others?

Mistress told me to change into the green dress, which I did, and checked my makeup.

He definitely liked me, and I liked myself as I paraded around and showed myself. I was instructed to lift up my skirt so that he could smack my bum, showing my stocking tops and panties, of course.

"Very nice," he said. "You should definitely take her out."

Then he whispered to Mistress, and she laughed.

"Good idea! Karen to show what an obedient sissy you are, you must suck George's cock! And make sure he enjoys it!"

I noticed his trousers were already bulging as he unzipped them and I got down. He put a cushion down for me to kneel on, which I thought was considerate.

Having cleaned it last night, I knew what a cock in the mouth was like. And in my favourite dress, I was quite calm. If she thought she was humiliating me (which I think she did) she was wrong.

It just seemed quite natural, and very sexy indeed. My own cock was hard, but not frustratingly so. Just the kind of erection you can enjoy when you are being stimulated.

I did what came naturally until he grabbed my head to pull me on, and came into my throat. I had to concentrate for a moment not to choke, and he relaxed a little, gasping "Oh fuck!".

I was sure they had not had sex in the morning.

"Thank you, Sir," I said, as he withdrew, and I actually meant it.

He was happy. I was happy. Mistress was impressed.

I was released to get a drink and start on lunch.

Later on, I actually went outside to carry his bag to the car.

Because my Mistress told me, of course. I was terrified but we were both pleased.

A few weeks later, George came round and we all went out together to a distant shopping centre. I was Karen. I was nervous, but could not refuse, and had some confidence in the green dress.

I was given money and had to go and buy coffees and serve it to them. I carried the shopping, of course. And I was bought a new wig.

And I used the ladies' toilet. There was no option. Mistress was there but she did not encourage me or help in any way like a friend would. We just went in together, and she ignored me. It was frightening, but I got through it.

Somehow Mistress and George overcame their shyness, and began to get me to watch them fuck sometimes. This allowed Mistress to say how impressive he was and how much she enjoyed it.

He was still busy, so it was not very often. She had got to the stage where she openly pleasured herself to orgasm at home to taunt me.

After some months there was something new.

I needed to be fucked by a real man! And George had graciously consented to do it for my Mistress's pleasure.

We had to prepare for the great event, so she got some instructions from the internet and I had to buy the necessary things to practise with.

Giving myself an enema was both unpleasant and humiliating (which pleased Mistress, of course). Then I had to douche, and finally put in lots of lubricant and a butt plug. Not the biggest, because Mistress said I should be nice and tight for his satisfaction.

I did this every day after serving dinner, and before being permitted to eat.

On the great day I of course served dinner. After coffee I was sent to prepare myself.

I had to suck him first, of course. Mistress got ready to watch, with her vibrator ready. She was the most excited person in the room.

He put on a condom, but did not ram his cock in as she told him, but applied some more lubricant and gently eased himself in with lots of little pushes. Mistress was stroking herself with the vibrator.

"All right?" he asked me, and I nodded.

"Yes, Sir."

It began gently then he fucked me long and well, and Mistress had at least one orgasm, watching. I had a sort of long-drawn-out sperm leakage which was as good as a coming if not better, and George was obviously ecstatic.

Three people were satisfied.

She told me to suck his cock, but he refused and she had no option.

But it was clear that this was going to happen again.

And again.

We had got to what I supposed was the culmination of the domme-sub relationship.

I was a humble and obedient feminized sissy, never to fuck, but forced to watch his Mistress having pleasure with another man, or giving herself orgasms. I also had to lick the sperms off them, and sometimes suck him off. And every so often I would be fucked by a man to indicate my status.

I had no control, and could be punished.

But it was not quite the end: there was something new.

"George has a present for you, Karen. But before we give it to you, run four inches of cold water in the bath and sit in it until I tell you."

The tap water was not too cold, but it was not pleasant. I didn't know why, and I didn't know how long, but I was eventually told to get out and dry myself.

Then George got some bits of metal and assembled them around my cock, which was of course in its smallest state. Attached to it was a ring secured behind my balls to that it would not come off. He fiddled around with some rings. Finally, a little padlock was closed, and I guessed.

My cock was bent downwards and my knob was at the end. There was very little room to manoeuvre.