The Red Dress - Part 1

The Red Dress
Part 1
By Kelly Blake

Author’s Note: I must confess that I am a wee bit of a thief. I ‘borrowed’ this tale from an author on Crystal’s Story Site. We had corresponded and I was asked to read some of the tales. I chose “The Red Dress”. The author is Lauran Travis. I became fascinated with this tale not for what was written, but for what was between the lines. It dealt with a velvet gloved FemDom theme. But most importantly the tale dealt with a very strong and trusting love between a woman and a man. Lauran has graciously, and very magnanimously, allowed me to take this tale and make it my own. Thank you Lauran.

I must also confess that I’m terrible at proofing my own work. I wish to thank Stanman for reading “The Red Dress” and saving me the agony of correcting this tale. I also thank him, as well as Lauran, for their kind criticism and encouragement. In keeping with the author’s original story, the two main characters are never named.

This is my first story.

1. His Red Dress
“You like them? Then you wear them!”

’That was how it all began’, or so he thought. He was looking at clothes she hadn’t worn for several years; evening gowns, party dresses, and formal dresses that glittered and provoked the imagination. He commented how much he liked her red dress with the slits up the sides. He couldn’t resist touching the soft merino wool. It was a form fitting piece with a turtle neck. The hem ended just above her knees.

He remembered how she felt, how soft the dress felt, in his arms and against his cheek, when they danced. He remembered how it hugged her curves so seductively and how long her legs appeared and how supple and inviting her thighs were, when the slits parted as she moved.

It was that nearly that ‘time of the month’ and so he backed off quickly not knowing how she would react. She could be such a witch for the few days before the main event. He never expected the reply she gave him. A week later he mentioned the dress again. She agreed it was nice, but she said she no longer had the shape, the legs, or the desire to wear it, but she did repeat her offer.

“If you like the damned thing so much, you wear it..”

It was a dreary Saturday afternoon. They were lounging in front of the tube, with the evening seeming as though it would be spent the same way. They hadn’t spoken much; with her being in one of her moods and him bedeviled by that red dress. So he went upstairs to get the dress to see how he would look in it.

Stripping down to his boxers, he stepped into the dress and, with some contortion on his part, managed to zip up the back. He gazed in the mirror, turned this way and then that way…and then did a slow pirouette. He thought it looked good; it felt like…a dream. He remembered how sexy she looked that night.

The wool felt heavenly against his skin. He quickly came back to earth when he noticed his wife’s reflection in the mirror. He felt color come to his cheeks as he blushed and averted her gaze as she looked at his reflection in the mirror. He started to unzipped the dress as his knees quaked in fear and his stomach grew queasy.

“What are you doing?” he heard her ask.

“Well, you said…”

“Well, you said…” She mimicked him. “Stop this instant and let me have a good look at you.”

His hands dropped to his sides as she approached. He stared at the floor as she critically appraised what she saw.

“Well…I must confess that it seems to suit you far better then me. Look at me when I speak to you!”

He lifted his chin till their eyes met. It was difficult for him to meet her gaze.

“Turn around…slowly if you please.”

As he turned she looked quite closely at the fit.

“Hmm,.. Not bad…not bad at all. Raise your arms up.”

He began to raise his arms up over she head.

“Slowly! Could you please show some grace in your movements!”

He stopped, closed his eyes, and thought of a graceful bird flying. As his arms reached their extension over his head, he flipped his wrists and extended his fingers outward palms up.

“Yes…this looks much better on you. Your have the legs and rump for it. Let me see you walk to the door and back. I love the way it seems to move with you. It’s a shame you don’t have the boobs for that dress, although…”

He gazed at his wife as she stood before him, her arm across her body just beneath her breasts, and the other at a right angle, elbow resting on her wrist, hand beneath her chin, a finger across her lips and her brow furrowed. She seemed to be completely lost in thought.

“You may put your arms down, if you wish. But do show some poise and grace. After all, you are in MY dress.”

He slowly lowered his arms much the way he raised them and clasped his hands behind his back. He was beginning to feel a bit more at ease with this situation. Suddenly she smiled and let out with a bit of a laugh. She placed her hands on her hips for one moment and nodded her head. She then reached out to him and clasped his chin between her index finger and her thumb. She looked deeply into his eyes and smiled.

“So…does my darling girl really want to have some fun?”

He was speechless, and worried. Whenever she got that…devilish smile and that irresistible impish gleam in her light blue eyes, he knew he was in for one of those very exciting, and very different, evenings. She leaned in and bent slightly to kiss his lips while still holding his chin.

“I want to take my girl out for dinner and, maybe if she behaves herself and shows the proper sort of gratitude, to a cabaret I heard about in the office, or perhaps a bar I’ve heard about from some of the girls.”

“Sweet Jesus! You can’t be serious! I would look like a fool…I would feel like one as well! I could never get away with it.”

He was starting to feel dizzy and he began to perspire quite profusely. His stomach revolted against him again and he could feel the bile begin to erupt. His knees were feeling very, very, weak. He couldn’t possibly pull this off in public. He would be made a fool of and for what, her amusement perhaps?

Her smile never weakened and her eyes kept their impish gleam. She ran her hand across his stomach and slid it down around his waist to finally rest on his ass cheek. She still held his chin as she slowly ran her fingers up and down the parting of his rump. He’s so weak, she thought. My mere touch can blur all reason he might have, even his greatest fears. Daddy would make things good for him.

“You must have faith in me baby. Daddy would never hold her girl up to ridicule. If you do as I ask, I promise you that nobody will know, and, even if they do, they won’t care. You will have a good time…”

He looked at her intently, hoping that she was right, and yet, hoping vainly that she would change her mind and let the entire idea drop. But not her…she went for the throat!

“…and anyway…when have I ever not kept a promise!”

He was silent as he thought about the entire idea.

“Well my darling girl? I AM waiting for an answer!”

He blushed and tried to look away but she would have none of that. She kept his chin steady and leaned into his face. He had trouble finding his voice.


“What…never… Tell me what I want to hear!”

He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. Her gaze was so steady, so sure. He wished his could be the same. But what fun would that be. He giggled and smiled as he spoke.

“You have always kept your promises.”

“Good. Now take off my dress and be careful about it. I hope you didn’t stain it with your perspiring. We have a bit of work to do.”

He carefully unzipped the back and, this time, stepped out of the dress. He inspected it carefully to make sure it wasn’t stained and then hung it up in the closet. She took his hand and led him into their bath room.

“Firstly, we must remove that unsightly hair. I don’t know how you can stand it to begin with.”

“You never complained before.”

There was a bit of a whining in his voice. He really didn’t know about this hair removing thing of hers.

“I forgive a lot with you. It’s about time you became a bit more…a bit more of what we both need. And lose that whining tone in your voice; you’re not a baby…”

Her facial expression suddenly took on an evil look, grin and all.

“…unless you would like to be treated as one.”

I didn’t even bother to challenge her for he knew all too well that she always kept her word and she never made idle threats.

“Well…what do I have to do…shave my legs?”

“Sorry sweetie, no blood rituals tonight. You will use this on yourself. I want all of you hair below the neck to be removed. Into the shower with you.”

He took the pink plastic bottle from her and entered the shower.

“Use this first.”

She handed him a bottle of body cleanser, which he took in with him, “Now…you must leave the hair removal lotion on for ten to fifteen minutes so wash quickly and put the stuff on so I can time it.”

He washed using her floral scented body wash and then he quickly applied the lotion. The smell of the stuff nearly overwhelmed him. In spite of an attempt to disguise the heavy chemical aroma, he couldn’t help but smell it.

Why was he doing all this? He couldn’t seem to resist her requests regardless of how…silly and humiliating they might be. But he did have faith in her and trusted her implicitly. He completely covered his legs and butt with the foul stuff,

“What about my…”

He never got the chance to say pubic hair.

“Do I have to write this out for you? Would you like some pictures as well?”

He was quite accustomed to her sarcasm. Indeed, there was something exciting about the way she addressed him. He was shown great deference at work. He was an expert with ‘things’, computers and their intricacies to be exact. He was so much of an expert that he would, on rare occasions, teach the teachers and other researchers.

She was quite the opposite. She commanded and demanded in the financial arena at the same university. Her co-workers, as well as his, found them to be an unlikely couple. She was quite well known for her ‘appetites’ and he was known for his lack of them. She was more than several years his senior. She asked him out. She proposed to him. She was usually on top. These things wouldn’t have occurred to him and he was not bothered by her lead. Truly, he was very comfortable with her assertiveness and excited by it.

His mother was a very demanding woman. He remembered how pleased his mother was that this woman had agreed to that over the ‘care and feeding’ of her son. He remembered how excited he would get when his mother chose to focus her impeccable eye upon him.

He trembled with excitement as he applied the cream to his sparsely haired body, “Now don’t forget to do your underarms and chest. If you need help with your back, let me know. Oh, that’s right; you’ve no hair on your back. You don’t want Daddy to spank you because you’ve been a bad little girl and haven’t done what you were told to, do you?”

He smiled as he blushed, “No dear, I don’t.”

She did spank him on rare occasions. It was more a part of their sex play than anything else. But she knew he got excited by the thought of being bare assed and draped over her knee. He couldn’t remember the last time that happened, but he wasn’t in that sort of mood tonight.

Nor was she. Pain and violence was not her thing. She did enjoy taunting him, pushing him to attempt new activities, and, on rare occasions, humiliating him, these things were usually done within the confines of their home, and never when they were with other people. She did love him very much because of his attentiveness to her needs and his total faithfulness to her. The truth was that he absolutely adored her. She considered him her little jewel.

“It feels like its tingling.”

“Never mind that. Why don’t you shave whatever fuzz you might have accumulated on your face over the past day or so.”

He glanced at his face in the mirror that hung on the shower’s wall. He couldn’t see any new whisker growth but he ran the razor over his chin and cheeks none the less.

“Good girl. I wouldn’t have your entire appearance spoiled by a stray hair or whisker.”

“This stuff is beginning to sting. Can I wash it off now?”

She knew it stung. He should learn what it takes for a woman to look appealing to a man. She decided to let him suffer just a bit more. In the mean time, she readied a body lotion and a face lotion for him to use once he was done showering.

“Okay sweetie, use the brush and start washing yourself clean.”

He couldn’t wait to hear those words from her. He began to scrub the lotion off of his chest and arms. I watched in stunned amazement as his hair simply washed off with the lotion. As he continued, he noticed his hair accumulate in the drain’s screen.

Oh my God, he thought to himself. I would never be able to explain this if anyone noticed. But then again, who would look at his naked body except for his wife and who would notice his missing arm hair? After all, his body hair was so light in color that had he been extremely hirsute, it would be hard to notice against the fair complexion of his skin.

As he stepped from the shower, she handed him a large bath towel and had him pat his skin dry. Then she had him rub the body lotion into his skin. The hair remover had left his skin red and irritated. He enjoyed how soothing her body lotion felt and how cool it made his skin feel.

After she wrapped the towel around his body and tucked it in just beneath his under arms, she took a smaller towel and, after running a comb through his wet chestnut colored shoulder length hair, wrapped the towel around his hair and twisted it up atop his head like a turban. She then took him by the hand and led him to her bathroom vanity mirror. She placed three different elixirs down on the vanity.

“You will use all three of these. Start with the face lotion. Then, after you rub it in, use this face cream. Between the two, your pores will close up and your skin will firm up a bit as well. The last one I want you to use around your eyes to firm up your skin just a bit.”

As he began to do as she said, he began to realize just how much work and effort went into his wife’s efforts to look presentable, and, he had to admit, desirable. While she may not have removed her body hair every day, she did spend quite a bit of time in front of the mirror achieving the effect she desired to present her world with.

She had left him to gather together the items he would be wearing this evening. He could hear drawers open and close as she rummaged about her possessions to find the right things for him to wear with her dress. When she had laid everything out upon their bed, she went to him. She removed the towel from his head and let his hair fall to his neck. She ran her fingers through it several times.

“You have put me through quite an effort here. These things were hidden at the bottom of my drawers. They won’t fit me at this point. But they should do just fine on you. Okay…come over here and let’s see what we can do for you.”

She turned him toward the bathroom mirror, picked up a spray bottle with a clear liquid in it, and sprayed his damp hair till it was nearly dripping. Then she ran both hands through his hair, making certain that the liquid was thoroughly rubbed in. Then she took a comb and gently combed his hair straight back. She combed it for several minutes until the spray began to dry and take hold. His naturally straight thick hair began to dry.

“I would love to have you grow your hair and have it permed one day. I think it would look positively divine.”

She laid down the comb and removed the towel from around his body, “Yes. That’s much better.”

Her eyes inspected his body. She ran her hand up his thigh to settle cupping his scrotum. She held it in her hand as if assessing its weight.

“Yes…much better. It even makes your equipment look like a child’s without that awful hair.”

She giggled as she looked into his eyes.

“Okay. Let’s start to get you dressed sweet heart.”

Taking his hand, she walked into the bedroom, “You remember what I wore beneath that dress, don’t you? My lingerie was black. Why don’t we start with this?”

She handed him a black lace trimmed, open crotch, girdle. There were four garter tabs for the stockings. He took it into his trembling hands and felt the material with his finger tips. She laughed as she watched him inspect the girdle,

“The small rose at the waist goes in the front darling.”

He bent and lifted one leg into the garment and then the other. He relished the strange new sensation of the girdle’s fabric sliding up his hairless legs. The cloth actually felt cool as he raised the garment over his hips and set it in place around his waist. He felt the spandex gently squeezing his belly and hips.

“Here…” She came up to him and gently tugged the waist of the garment up another three inches.

“You see? This is called a long line girdle. It should reduce your waist enough to really make that dress look slinky. The stocking tabs are hidden by the hem so that you’ll have one smooth line. I remember all the fun you had with me the last time I wore this. Well I intend to have my fun with you tonight. Let’s put the bra on you next.”

She handed him the matching black bra.

“Hook the back and then turn it around. That’ll make it easier for you to do this on your own.”

He followed her instructions. The cups were slightly padded to give shape and support to the wearer; not to mention a bit more size. The fit was a bit loose but, for one evening, it would do.

“Let’s see if we can’t firm this up a bit,” she gathered several pairs of her older stockings and stuffed them into the cups to give the bra some real shape.

“There! That is much better. Have a look in the mirror and tell me what you think.”

His smile said everything. He turned a bit to his left and then his right.

“Right! Now let’s get going on your face and nails. But first let me make one correction,” she noticed his excitement as he created a small bulge in the front of the girdle. She reached under and up to grasp his penis. She pulled it straight down and let the spandex hold it in place. He reached down to undo it but she slapped his hands away.

“Oww! That hurt.”

“You must learn to control yourself darling.”

She spoke so sweetly but it still provided no consolation to him, or his discomfort.

“Come,” she took his hand and led him back into the bathroom to her side of the vanity, “Let’s see what we can do with your face and
your nails.”

She sat him on her stool in front of the mirror and looked at his skin and his features, “You do have fine features…really quite…feminine. And your skin is much better than mine. It has such even tone. You are quite pretty which is probably why I was so attracted to you to begin with.”

A towel went around his neck to catch any falling powders and she turned the stool so that he faced away from the mirror. She hugged and kissed him. Then she got down to business.

“I know the colorations of my cosmetics are not really a match for you with your porcelain complexion, but somehow I got this sample of foundation that is slightly lighter than yours. Perhaps we will go for the Goth look. We really must get some things for you.”

He thought she seemed so definite that this wouldn’t be the last time they played this game. This excited him even more. Thankfully he was sitting and could hold his penis between his thighs. At least the angle wasn’t as sharp when he sat and he became hard once again.

She decided to start with his nails. She retrieved a package of inexpensive plastic glue on nail extensions from her vanity drawer and proceeded to find the proper sizes. Then, one by one, after first checking the fit, she glued them on.

After they set, which was rather quickly, she applied a base coat of nail lacquer to each tip. While that dried, she began to do his face. Once she began, she worked like a woman processed. First she applied the foundation. Though he really didn’t require it, she needed to slightly lighten his complexion so that her other colors would work.

Now, what to do about his brows. They were a bit too bushy and she didn’t have the time, or the patience, to pluck them into a reasonable shape. Fortunately he had an electric hair trimmer so the first thing done was trimming his brows to a shorter length. She then took his razor and removed the slight bridge of hair between his brows. Then she shaped the brows themselves into a narrower, less masculine arch.

“Hmmm… I might have gone a bit too far. But we’re still clearly within the Brook Shields look. Anyway…a bit of eye brow pencil and nobody will really notice the difference.”

Oh my dear Lord, he thought. Whatever has she done to me? She had his back to the mirror as she worked so there was no way of knowing if she had mangled the job until she was finished.

Then she applied a deep plum blush to his face just beneath his cheek bones. She applied a silver base of eye shadow to his upper lids and simply swiped a line just below his lower lashes. Then she put a plum shade of shadow on the eye lids; again one swipe beneath his lower lashes. With a small oval sponge, she blended the shadows to a proper graduation from deep plum at the lash line to nearly all silver near his brow. She also blended the thin lines of shadow beneath his lower lashes. She finished with a very fine liner and two coats of jet black mascara.

She did take a moment to apply a second coat of enamel to his finger nails and a first coat on his toe nails, placing a ball of cotton between each toe as she went along.

“We really must get you to a stylist for a complete make over one of these days. Would you like that sweetheart?”

He didn’t quite know how to receive her comment. She sounded so sincere yet there was just the slightest hint of condescension in her voice. Yet it did sound so very tempting, having all this done by professionals using the correct, and most fashionable, colors. Hmmm…

“Well! I am waiting for an answer. I don’t speak merely to hear my own


She startled him with her tone and inflection. He looked up into her eyes. ‘Good’, she thought, ‘he’s blushing but one can’t really notice it because of the foundation. However, the eyes never deceive; not with my sweetheart’.

“…that would be quite nice.”

“That’s better. Try not to let your mind wander too much. I’m putting a lot of effort into this and you should at least stay awake for it.”

“Yes dear, I will.”

“Now we only have to finish your lips and re-comb your hair a bit. Now be a good girl and open your mouth just a bit. Oh yes, you look so very inviting like that.”

He had no idea of what she meant. But then again, he was sometimes clueless and she seemed to enjoy that part of him. She took a fine line paint brush and, after putting some of her lipstick on it, drew the outline of his lips. She drew just over the edge of his lips to give them the appearance of being plumper then they actually were. She thought he had wonderful lips anyway.

The sensation of the fine brush on his lips sent a tingling down his spine. He wasn’t quite sure he enjoyed it, but then again, he certainly didn’t want her to stop. She then took the lipstick and applied it to his upper and lower lips. Then she took a tissue and had him blot his lips on it.

One more coating after that and she was finished. She stood back to examine her ‘work of art’. She always had a critical eye and her inspection of his face was no exception.

“Yes…not bad at all. Let’s get you dressed and then we’ll finish with your hair. No peeking in the mirror now. I want you to be completely surprised.”

She led him back into the bed room and closed the closet door with the full length mirror on it.

“First things first sweetheart; I will show you how to put on these stockings but I do expect you to dress yourself in the future. First of all, lift up the hem of the girdle until the garter tabs are exposed.”
After he had done what she ordered, she had him sit on the bed as she picked up the jet black sandal toed stockings. She happened to like a bit of support to the weave of her stockings which made them less likely to snag and run. This would be perfect for him.

“Now watch carefully. See how I bundle the stocking in my hands? I’ll slip the first one on for you. Lift your leg and put your toe in first.”

After doing as instructed, she pulled the stocking up on his leg, gently letting the nylon slip between her fingers. He felt like he had died and gone to heaven. The material felt so very sensual on his smooth, hairless, leg. As with the girdle and the bra, he relished the constricting feeling of the stocking. He was so over whelmed by the sensations that he needed to close his eyes of a moment.

“See if you can’t manage to clip on the garter tabs sweetie. Straighten your leg out and don’t clip it past the lace. Do be careful not to ruin your nails!”

She got a chuckle out of his attempts to master the difficulty of using garter tabs with long finger nails.

“You should thank me for not having you wear the stockings with the back seam. I would insist that you keep those seams perfectly straight. But I think you would enjoy that little torment, wouldn’t you?”

He was so intent on accomplishing what she had asked him to do that he failed to reply.

“Well! Would you or wouldn’t you enjoy that!”

Her tone startled him and he was on the verge of fastening the second tab.

“Yes dear, I really would.”

She handed his the second stocking and told him to try to do as she had done. It took him a while longer. It was not only his first time attempting this, but he had the longer nails to contend with as well. He went slowly and managed to perform this task reasonably well. He stood and flipped the bottom of the girdle back down; hiding the garter tabs and the top of the stockings.

“That was quite good. I think you’ve done this before, haven’t you.”

He felt a chill run through his body when she said that. He was so very excited by the stimulation the under garments were providing and her little comments only added to that thrill.
“Now for your shoes. If I remember correctly, and I usually do…don’t I…”

Though it was not really a question, he had become so accustomed to her method of speaking to him, he replied.

“Yes Daddy, you usually do.”

“I wore those lovely silver sandals with the ankle wrap straps.”

As she bent to rummage for the shoes, he realized that he didn’t remember them at all. When she pulled them out of the partially opened closet, he nearly fainted. One look at the four inch stiletto heels and he had visions of broken ankles. She could see the fear and trepidation on his face. His look caused her to laugh.

“Many of us wear high heels every day. So put your big girl panties on and deal with it. Sit on the bed.”

The shoes appeared to be so delicate. There was barely a sole and the straps were so thin and delicate looking. She placed them on his feet and wound the straps around his ankle and calf till the two ends met. She did the small buckle, thankfully. She repeated the process on his other foot. He would never have been able to secure the straps with his nails.


She reached out to take his hands.

“…stand up and let’s have a look.”

She half pulled him off the bed. He now stood nearly eye to eye with her. His legs wobbled as he tried to obtain some degree of center and balance. He held onto her hands tightly and as she began to lead him around the room.

“Put one foot in front of the other. There, isn’t that better? I think you’ll be spending quite a bit of time holding my arm tonight. How does it feel to be my arm candy?”

He smiled and blushed a bit. She could see the redness in his neck. He giggled as they walked slowly back and forth. The sensation of being in the heels was a very odd one for him. He felt so vulnerable, and yet so…sexy.

“That’s my girl. I knew you’d have this down in no time at all. Now for the last finishing touches. Stand right here. Put one foot in front of the other and have them at a forty five degree angle. I know that you know what that means.”

She backed away from him and watched as he assumed the pose. ‘Good’, she thought, ‘he can remain fairly well balanced’. She turned toward the closet to retrieve the dress. Glancing back at him, she watched him looked at his nails. She smiled and thought how easy this was going to be. She pulled the red dress out of the closet and walked toward him.

He suddenly stopped gazing at his nails. He was mesmerized by the dress. Everything she had done to him thus far had led to this moment. His prize, dangling on the hanger in his wife’s hands, seemed to bring everything done so far into focus. It had taken so much time to get ready for this one single act of completion that he felt like kneeling down and thanking his wife for the many times she worked so hard to get ‘dressed’ for him.

“You see that black slip on the bed? You need to put it on. Wool, even fine wool such as this dress, has a tendency to cling to under garments and stockings. The slip will help prevent that from happening. We don’t want to be pulling down our dress all evening, do we?”

He put the slip on over his head. It fell to just below the hem of the girdle. The straps were a bit long for him but he managed to adjust them to a proper fit for his bra. There was simply so much to do to get ready.

His wife unzipped the dress and discarded the hanger. She slowly handed him the dress, watching the expression in his eyes as his fingers gently grasped the soft fabric. She knew he was excited. She could see his excitement; the way his eyes lighted up and the coy smile on his painted lips. Glancing down at his crotch, she was amused to see that the extra strength of the spandex kept whatever erection he might have had hidden, and certainly uncomfortable.

“Well? Stop gawking at it and put it on! This is what you’ve been waiting for, isn’t it?”

He stepped into the dress and slowly put his arms into the sleeves. It was as if he was being bathed in the softest of fabric. His entire body felt electrified as the wool rubbed against his hairless arms and legs. His penis was as hard as it ever was going to get and he would have been afraid of dripping his fluids onto the magnificent material. Now he realized that she had chosen the long line girdle for a good reason.

“Let me zip it up for you.”

He turned around presenting her with his back. She straightened the shoulders of the dress a bit and zipped him into its sinfully luxurious grasp. He closed his eyes and simply stood in place as his body took in the sensations of being dressed. He felt the compression of the dress as it hugged his curves like a second skin.

She was holding him by his shoulders but now she stepped up to him until their bodies touched and moved one hand over his breast and the other hand on his stomach. She heard him moan as his breathing became deeper. His eyes were still closed and his mouth half opened as she moved her hand along the dress from his belly down to his thigh and then around to his rump. She rested her chin on his shoulder.

“Do you remember when you did this to me the last time I wore this dress? Remember how you cupped my breast and teased my nipple through the fabric? Wouldn’t it be nice to feel that sensation yourself? Too bad these aren’t real, don’t you think?”

If she weren’t holding him so closely, he might have fallen over as she spoke softly into his ear. Her teeth gently pulled at his eye lobe as she caressed him.

“I am waiting for an answer? Don’t you wish you had real breasts for me to caress? Imagine how this dress would feel against your naked breasts.”


He was nearly hypnotized by her words and her caresses. He barely had the breath to answer.

“We really should get your ears pierced.”

She again pulled on his ear lobe gently with her lips.

“We could put earrings in your ears that have some weight. Maybe some chandeliers or beaded danglers that would tease your neck when you moved your head. Perhaps some heavy gold loops; the possibilities are endless you know.”

She continued to tease his ears as she spoke. His breathing became even heavier. She suddenly turned his head and, while staring deeply into his eyes, his very needy and excited yes, she kissed his lips softly. He moaned again. She kissed him again and rubbed his belly as her tongue plunged into his mouth. He closed his eyes and leaned back into her. He was hers as she stole his breathe from him. She enjoyed the affect she was having on him. He was her’s; there wasn’t any question in her mind.

“We have only a few small details to complete before you’re fully dressed. Now I want you to go to my jewelry box and pick out a necklace, a bracelet or two, some rings and I do believe I might have several pair of clip on earrings. Now go.”

She had to give him a slight push from her. He was in another world composed of sensation and he truly didn’t want to return to reality, if even for one moment. He went to her jewelry box and began to gather and put on what he though might look nice. She went into the bath room to fetch her comb, brush, and a spray bottle of liquid.

“We need to finish styling your hair so don’ty put on any earring yet.”

She entered the bedroom and placed the items on her bureau.

“Come little girl, let me finish you up.”

She sat him on the bed and sprayed his hair with the liquid.

“This is merely helps with any tangles we may have.”

She parted his hair down the middle and combed each side straight down to discover that it was nearly a perfect wedge cut. She needed to plant the seed.

“We really must do something with you hair. You cannot simply let it grow as it may. I think perhaps a wedge cut seems to suit you well. I might have it highlighted. Or, as I said, maybe we should perm it. It should be cut even a bit longer toward the front so that, if you choose, you can comb it straight back for your job, as if anyone would notice anyway. Now let’s see what you’ve chosen for jewelry.”

He chose her thirty six inch long string of seven millimeter pearls. He needed to double it up. And, of course, the matching four strand bracelet. He chose several rings in silver with several semi-precious stones. They seemed to fit different fingers which proved to be quite delightful. Now that his hair was finished, she picked the pair of matching pearl drop earrings with the screw down backs. They would be long enough to tickle his neck when he turned his head. She would tighten the screws enough to let him know that they were there at all times.

“Oh my, we nearly forgot one very important thing.”

She went into the bathroom and quickly returned with a small yellow cylinder. She quickly gave him a short spray around his neck and beneath the hem of his dress.

“Every woman should have at least one Chanel scent. This one is number seventeen. It gives off a different aroma on different women.”

“What was the second spray for?”

“Oh you poor baby…you know nothing. That one was in the event you get lucky tonight.”

She laughed as she watched him absorb the comment and suddenly became aware of exactly what she meant. He stood there wide eyed and mouth agape with the realization of what she might have meant by ‘lucky’. What if somebody else came on to him? What if his wife did nothing about it and let it continue?

“Now we’re ready baby. Let’s have a look at my ‘new’ girl friend.”

She took his hand and positioned him in front of the closet door. She opened the door to reveal the mirror. He stood there in absolute shock at the image reflected back to him. He couldn’t recognize anything about him that was familiar. He could see his wife smiling and giggling at the mirror’s edge.

“Why don’t you turn so that you can take in the full effect? You really are quite lovely you know.”

Without a word, he began to turn and view himself from different angles. He was so taken with what he saw that he never noticed that she had gotten her camera until the flash began to take pictures.

“What are you doing!”

His surprise verged on panic. What would she do with the pictures? Why was she even taking them? Of course she got two or three with his wide eyed and opened mouth look.

“Tomorrow is a new day. I want to remind you of how delicious you looked tonight. Don’t you think it’s a great idea?”

“Yes…but if anybody ever got hold of those pictures…”

“And who would recognize you anyway. You are a different person now. I want you to pose for me. I want different angles and different faces. I’ve done all this work on you and maybe I’ll want to have these pictures to look at.”

She could tell that he wasn’t sure about this whole thing and he didn’t want to have more pictures taken; but he would do it anyway. He would do it for her. He would do anything for her. She began to snap away again having him pose in various positions and with different expressions on his face. By the time she was satisfied, he was actually smiling and getting into character with her direction. Now it was her turn to dress.

“Why don’t you go downstairs and fetch us two strong drinks while I start to get ready?”

He was still engrossed with his image in the mirror. He hadn’t even really heard her.

“I said to get us drinks…now!”

He teetered toward the stairs, still unaccustomed to the high heels. At the stairs he faced the dilemma of how to descend. In a man’s shoe, one can step with the heel and still maintain balance. But in heels, the stiletto’s tip was too small for him to balance adequately. He stepped down and as he applied pressure onto the tiny heel, the front of his foot nearly toppled him. He quickly decided that the safest way to descend would be sideways placing on foot completely on the step and then following with the next. He knew that there would be no bounding up and down the steps whilst he wore heels.

After finally descending the stairs, he went to their salon to fetch the drinks. He quickly took a drink of the gin. Then he prepared the two drinks adding ice and a slice of lime. Now he faced the challenge of ascending the stairs without the use of his hand to hold the railing. He slowly and carefully sidled up the stairs and entered their bedroom. He could hear her in the bathroom preparing for their night out.

“I have your drink dear.”

She opened the door just enough to stick her hand out and he gave her the glass. Neither of them spoke. He took a seat on their bed and thought about what he was about to do. He wasn’t sure what he feared more; being ‘read’ or not being ‘read’. What if needed to relieve himself; would he use the ‘Ladies’ or would he simply test his continence? What should he do if a woman, or even worse, a man, approached him? He was so lost in thought that he never heard her enter the bedroom.

“Awe…poor baby! You look so worried. If you continue to scowl, you’ll get wrinkles and then no man will want you. Have some of your drink and loosen up. We’re going to have fun tonight!”

He took a healthy swallow of his gin as she ducked back into the bathroom. He heard her laugh as he felt the gin’s bite hit his belly; it’s warmth quickly spreading throughout his body.

“You know…you are so wrapped up in your own little world that you didn’t even notice what I’m wearing tonight. That is so typical of a girl on her first big date.”

She laughed again as he sat and waited. He noticed that he left a lipstick impression on his glass. He got up and went to the mirror to check his make up. She came out of the bathroom again just as he was looking at himself.

“You are so vain. Do you know that?”

He held up the glass to show her his lip print on the glass.

“I only wanted to make sure my lips were still…”

“Oh my sweetheart…that’s why we carry a purse with essential things such as lipstick. You always have to make certain that you look your best when you’re out in public. Well?”

She held out her arms to show him her outfit. He stared in shock. She smiled as she straightened her jacket lapels and pulled down the cuffs of her shirt so that an inch or so protruded.

“Do you like the way your Daddy looks tonight?”

She had put on her finest dark blue pin striped ladies suit. Although it came with both pants and a skirt, she opted for the pants for this evening. She wore one of her ‘men’s’ style pinpoint white cotton shirts. She ‘borrowed’ one of his rarely worn silk paisley ties and had the matching handkerchief in the jacket’s breast pocket.

Even though the shirt and the jacket buttoned in the opposing position of men’s styling, she looked quite…butch. Her only accessories were her Raymond Weil gold trimmed stainless steel women’s sports watch and her wedding band. She wore her black wing tipped ankle boots with a one and one-half inch heel.

“Sauce for the gander I say!”

She seemed so profoundly pleased with her fashion choice. She turned around several times and observed herself in the mirror. The jacket was cut for a woman. The shoulders were padded more than for a man and the waist was slightly more tailored.

“You like? It’s my ‘Annie Hall’ look…so to speak.”

He was still taking her visage in. Slowly a smile crept onto his face.

“Yes. I like it very much. You look quite…handsome actually.”

“Come and stand next to me. Let’s see us together in the mirror.”

He arose from his seat and went to her. She put her arm around his waist. He could smell his after shave cologne on her. The picture excited both of them. Although one could tell that she was a woman because of her finer features, he was more difficult to detect. Her salt and pepper hair, which she normally kept cut to a three inch length, was combed straight back and jelled.

“What did you do with your…uh…boobs?”

“I unscrewed them and put them in the closet.”

She laughed at his embarrassment. He was so odd at times she thought.

“I’m wearing an old sports bra that is rather tight. Does it show through my blouse?”

“Not at all. You look…wonderful.”

“Let’s go downstairs and call for a cab. We can have another drink while we wait.”

Another drink! He was already feeling quite good now. He let her descend first. He followed her and kept his hand on her shoulder for balance. Once in their salon, she sat while he made two more drinks. He sat down next to her on the loveseat, smoothing his dress beneath him and they, or rather his wife, began to speak.

“When we were standing together in front of the mirror…you know what I thought?”

He shook his head.

“I thought of how much you looked like my trophy wife.”

She put her hand on his thigh and laughed at his wide eyed expression.

“I mean…I do deserve that…don’t you think? Don’t you think you’d be the perfect trophy wife for me? Do all the nasty little things that I like?”

She continued to tease him as she rubbed his thigh and moved her hand up to his crotch and belly. There really wasn’t much he could do. He was the proverbial fly in the spider’s silken web and, in spite of his fear of this…new thing…he loved every embarrassing moment!

“Now you haven’t said a single word about any of this. How do you feel?”

He had a hard time concentrating on her words. He was more intrigued by the husky tone of her voice then the meaning of what she said. He looked down at his hands, which were folded on his lap, and at his shiny finger nails, as he spoke.


“That’s a fine start honey.”

She leaned into him, stuck her tongue in his ear, and then pulled gently on his ear lobe. He could feel a slight wetness between his legs as a bit of pre-cum leaked from him. She simply electrified him with her mouth.

“…I am so thrilled and excited and…scared all at the same time. I never imagined that this…” he flipped his wrists outward nearly spilling his drink. “…would be the result! I would be anything, and do anything, for you. I love you so much…but this? This is scaring me.”

She could feel her eyes begin to water a bit. His confession was more than she ever expected to hear. She had to put her drink down on the end table and embrace him. She wanted to pull him into her; make him a part of her being as never before. After all, she did love him.

She continued to tease him with her entrancing words and her hands until the sound of the taxi’s horn brought them both back to their senses. She handed him a silver clutch purse with a few necessary essentials; lipstick, natural lip gloss, a compact with a brush for the caked powder, and a packet of tissues. She put a silvered wool shawl over his shoulders against the chill of the night’s air. She opened the front door for him, locked it, and took his arm as they walked down the steps.

To Be Continued…

If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos!
Click the Thumbs Up! button below to leave the author a kudos:
60 users have voted.

And please, remember to comment, too! Thanks. 
This story is 8638 words long.