SHE IS THE HUSBAND... John stared at his wife..she was wearing one of his shirts..

and a tie! His wife was pale but perfectly calm, "When we were kids..I wore your clothes..and YOU wore mine! Remember?" John felt his cheeks burn at the memory. He could only nod. She took his hands in hers saying, "Well I want to wear them now. I want to be ...your...your .. husband. Not all the time, just when I'm in the mood. " His mouth dropped open. "And what about me...does that mean I'm your wife?" She nodded. "Yes. I've wanted to ask for years, but I thought you'd be upset. I'd love to be the man about the house...just for a few hours every now and then. And'd look so pretty if you let me help you." He shook his head. "No, I don't mind you wearing my clothes...but I'd look ridiculous in a frock." Martha shrugged helplessly. "But I'd only do it if you did too. Please, please help me...I know you'd LIKE to wear a dress!" John felt breathless. There was a dull roaring in his ears. Why was his mouth so dry. He shook his head miserably. "No. I won't , I CAN'T!" Martha squeezed his hand. "It's alright, I understand. I was mad to even suggest it. Let's forget the whole thing." John sat numb and helpless as she walked away. He wanted to scream for her to come back. But what could he say? He joined his wife in their bedroom. She had undressed and was wearing one of her prettiest nightdresses. A knee length nylon creation that had a cute frill at neck and hem. Martha handed him a pair of striped pyjamas. Instead of taking them from them he dropped his eyes to the carpet saying softly, "If...if you want to wear my pyjamas...I'll wear this...If ..if that's what you want." Suddenly he was blushing furiously. Martha pulled him close, "Oh darling thank you thank you, thank you SO much!" She soothed him with words, "You won't regret this..I promise..everything will be fine." John watched her with a mounting, dry-mouthed excitement. She slipped out of the nightdress. He wordlessly took the shortie nightie from her. He undressed slowly. Could this really be happening? He ducked his head under the hem of the nightie. And he gasped as it slithered down his naked body. As it caressed and held its filmy skirts embraced him. "Why not tie a ribbon in your hair?" Martha asked as she stepped into the pyjama trousers. He did as she suggested feeling excited and yet incredibly stupid. A pink satin ribbon...!! By the time he was undressed Martha was under the sheets wearing his pyjamas. She actually looks quite sexy in them, he mused. But the thought of what he himself looked like in her nightie, dulled his excitement. He switched off the light before getting into bed. John gasped softly in the darkness as the silky nylon folds of the nightie caressed his naked flesh. He shivered in ecstasy. His palms ran down his body , what a glorious feeling. Martha was first to speak. "Darling? Can we pretend...that I'm, I'm the husband...and that you are my wife ?" He was so excited he found it almost impossible to answer. "Alright." He whispered thickly.

But he was amazed to hear the sound of lust in her words too, "I want my wife," She murmured in the darkness, "I want my wife Sally." He felt her snuggle up alongside him. His whole body trembled with excitement. Martha leaned over him in the darkness. They stared at each other in the dim light. He could see the gleam of excitement in her eyes, and when she handed him her pretty lace covered make-up cap he knew she actually wanted a woman in her bed! He took the frilly cap from her with a frown. She saw his face and told him, "It will help you look more, well girlish. It'll hide you mannish hair and soften your features. Go on. Put it on." It was like a bonnet, he knew Martha wore it occasionally at night after having had her hair done. He pulled it onto his head and tied the thin silk strings under his chin. She stared at him for a long moment, and he felt the heat in his face. But she wasn't satisfied. "It's a very pretty nightdress.." And her palms examined the white silk nightie. Caressing him, groping him! And his body reacted to her touch! Now she was happy. "That's better...Sally." And she kissed him. It was a long tender kiss, full of promise and John melted in her arms. Her hands sought his tiny breasts through the silk material of his nightdress. He wriggled with pleasure at her caress. Her hands slid lower, and she gripped him tightly through the skirt of his nightdress...he moaned with delight. Martha was caught up in her fantasy..she was a man; she was the husband. And he was a wife! "Sally, my darling Sally, your so beautiful..." John felt the hem of his nightie being worked upwards, he raised his buttocks to assist her. Now she lay on top of him. "My wife, my Sally." She whispered softly. Her knees forced his thighs apart. He felt her fingers probe between his thighs...she was stroking him, as though he were a girl! And his body was loving it! Martha stared at him through slitted eyes in the darkness. The sight of her husband writhing in ecstasy thrilled her. The very act of being a man, a husband, excited her. She had enjoyed numerous lesbian adventures at boarding school but this was better by far. She sensed, accurately, that it was the power, her absolute control over what was happening to another human being, that aroused her. It suddenly occurred to her that if John could indeed be made to accept the role of wife...then it followed that she herself as the husband would have total control; not just of their sex life, but of their finances as well! Martha began to work her hips and pelvis urgently. Her mouth closed over John's. As her tongue explored his mouth she began to jerk her hips against him. She closed her eyes and imagined that she really was making love to a woman! Lost in a fantasy world where she was a man, her hands cruelly kneaded John's breasts through the flimsy nightdress. His moans fanned her desire to fever pitch. Her groin slammed against his spread-eagled body, helpless and female beneath her...and the knowledge that she was hurting him...that he was accepting it...caused her lust to boil over. With one last frenzied, convulsive jerk she climaxed...and collapsed exhausted on top of him. John had been shocked at her uncontrolled passion. But her clear and obvious excitement made him believe that she too wanted to swap roles. He fell asleep bruised and sore but content. But he found waking in a nightdress a sobering experience. Sensitive to his mood, and fearful of regression, Martha pulled him close. "Darling. Tell me it was good for you too."

How could he deny it? "Yes, it was wonderful." He answered softly. But she saw the doubt in his face. "We know what we want, why can't we live as we choose?" She asked. He shook his head, "With me in a frock? I'd look stupid and you know it." John pushed her away. Sitting up in bed he displayed his male body in the silk nightie. He ripped the bonnet from his head. "Look at me. Don't tell me I look anything but ridiculous!" She knew she had to change his mind. "But that's my whole point," She told him firmly, "You look and feel wrong because you look like a man in a nightdress! But if you wore your hair differently, if your face was made-up, if you let me show you how to become a REAL woman...then you'd look and feel like one. Aren't you willing to at least try?" John got out of bed, as he stood the skirt of the nightie caressed his thighs. It felt marvellous. He wondered what it would be like to wake up every morning feeling like this. "Of course I'll give it a try," He said, "It's just that I don't want you to see me this." Martha understood at once. "If I got someone else in, someone who understood, someone who could help you become female...would that make you feel better? I'd keep out of the way until you were looking nice, until you felt comfortable in a frock." John shrugged, "Who could you get who'd understand?" He asked. She made him face her. "Never mind who, if I could get someone would you do it? It would be expensive, it would be painful for you, but it would work...and we'd be happy, I promise you we'd be happy. In the meantime I expect you to at least TRY and be a woman." Martha was patient with him during this period. She was calm and understanding when his embarrassment became too painful. But she gently insisted on his wearing more and more of her clothes. And each day she rearranged his hair and made-up his face. It was the bra and girdle that bothered him most. Martha had laced him tightly into the whalebone corset, a relic from her teenage years, and had then slipped the straps of the black satin bra up his arms. He went into a state of shock then, she had to put his stockings on herself. When she put the high heeled court shoes on him and pulled him to his feet he could not face her. Privately Martha thought he looked fine. The black seamed nylons looked lovely on his long shapely legs and what with the pre-shaped corset and the padded bra he certainly did not look foolish. But she ignored his shame and forced him to try on knickers and petticoat. The knickers were navy blue silk in a full waist style. The petticoat was a mass of frilly nylon. "Look at yourself!" She pointed at the mirror, "You look perfect. Why are you fighting it?" But John could only see a man in a skirt, a man wearing pink lipstick and ear-rings. He pulled off the bra and reached for the laces of the corset. "I'm sorry, I can't do it, I just can't!" Her words were like a whip. "Don't touch that!" She barked, "Now I've been very patient with you but enough is enough. Now try this dress on, it will make all the difference, go on."

Years of obeying her had conditioned John, reluctantly he stepped inside the waistband of the white linen dress. Martha zipped him up and they both looked at him through the mirror. John eyed the lace collar and cuffs of the dress. His palms touched the bulges at his chest. "I'm just a man in a dress. The whole thing is ridiculous!" His sullen words made her really angry. She had patiently got him this far and she was enraged that he could so casually dismiss all her efforts so easily. She hit him! They were both shocked. The slap across the face had hurt John's pride more than anything, but it introduced a new element into their relationship. Martha stared at her husband. The blow had fanned some latent flame of desire. She wanted to hurt him. Using her anger as an excuse she slapped him again. A bizarre lust bubbled up inside her. He couldn't fight her! He was just taking it! "You ungrateful little bitch. After all I've done to help you, come here..." She dragged her husband to the couch. It was only when she pulled him over her lap, only when he fully understood her intentions that he struggled...but it was too late. Martha swept up his skirt and petticoat. John wriggled in shame as she tugged his knickers down. "Martha...don't I...PLEASE!" She brought her hand down over his bare bottom. Pain and shame exploded in his brain. SPANK SPANK SPANK!