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Dr. Welles
by Suzi (Johnson) Thomas

***

A unique answer to marital problems. Hubby needs to 
explore his feminine side. (MF, cd, tg, oral, anal, 
hypno)

***

Of course I realized that there were some problems in 
our marriage - you can't have two people living 
together, both trying to make careers for themselves, 
plus the usual chores, plus the stresses of daily 
intimacy and interaction without having a few 
difficulties. 

I hadn't realized that my wife, Carol, thought they 
were so serious, until she suggested that we talk to a 
marriage counselor. When she first raised the issue, I 
resisted, protesting that things weren't that bad, but 
she was pretty adamant about it. Since I loved her 
deeply, I finally agreed, albeit reluctantly.

We arrived at the office for the appointment Carol had 
made, my last minute try to cancel falling on deaf 
ears. We were shown into a very feminine office, and 
that set me on edge a little. I felt that going to a 
marriage counselor was bad enough, but why did Dr. 
Welles have to be a woman? 

I would have preferred a male counselor, thinking that 
a female was going to give Carol the benefit of every 
doubt, but not wanting to upset Carol, I kept quiet. 
Dr. Welles walked into the office a moment later, and 
when I looked at her, I thought this might not be too 
bad, at least she wasn't some old frumpy lady. 

She was tall, nearly six feet, I guessed, and was 
dressed in a jacket and skirt set that did little to 
hide her beautiful figure. High-heeled pumps and sheer 
nylons graced her long, sexy legs, and when she sat 
down, and crossed them, she presented a very lovely 
picture, indeed. 

"I'm glad to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson. So many 
couples try to work things out themselves, or just 
ignore problems, until its too late. I hope that I can 
help with whatever difficulties you may be having," she 
said in a throaty voice. 

"Doctor," Carol said, "I feel that we have a lot of 
stress in our marriage - not real serious problems, or 
at least not yet, but I love Don, and I know he loves 
me, and I want to make things work."

Since Carol had said that, I nodded in agreement, and 
added, "I do love Carol very much, and while I agree 
that I don't think we have major problems, I don't want 
anything to spoil our marriage."

"Good, at least there's agreement on that! Some couples 
deny that there could even BE a problem until its too 
late. Let me tell you a few things about the way I 
work, because its a little different than what you 
might have heard or thought. 

"I've found that the conscious mind often resists and 
fights any attempts at discussion of problems, and I 
understand that - its only natural and human. But its 
also counterproductive, and it just runs the cost of 
counseling up unnecessarily. Couples come back time 
after time, and rehash the same things, defending their 
own viewpoints. This just increases stress, and, quite 
frankly, is very frustrating for me, as well as them. 
"So I've developed a technique, using hypnosis, that 
bypasses all the nonsense, and gets right to the heart 
of the matter." 

She must have seen a skeptical look cross my face, 
because she laughed and said, "I can understand the 
reluctance you might have to this, but please trust me, 
Don, it really works." 

We talked about it for a few minutes, and Dr. Welles 
explained that we would have some joint sessions and 
some just one-on-one. "Remember, I am a doctor, and I'm 
very mindful of the need for confidentiality. What I 
will do, just for the first individual session, is give 
each of you a tape that you can listen to, so you'll 
feel better about the process. But I think that the 
joint sessions, at least for now, shouldn't be taped, 
since you'll be interacting, is that OK?" 

That sounded fair enough to me, and she said that she 
would test us for our ability to be hypnotized. She 
took a silver ball that was attached to a thin chain, 
and began to speak in a soothing voice, "You are 
starting to relax, and feel a little drowsy..." That 
was the last thing I remembered, until I heard her say 
"3-2-1, you're now awake." 

I felt like I had gotten a full night's sleep, and was 
wide awake, and I saw Carol waking up, looking the same 
way. I mentioned this to Dr. Welles, and she laughed, 
saying that she had given us a post-hypnotic suggestion 
that we should feel that way, "as an extra, no-cost 
bonus." 

She explained that we were both ideal candidates, 
having fallen into a deep trance with no difficulties 
whatever. She handed us each a tape, saying that she 
had done both a joint and individual sessions while we 
were out. For each individual session, the other person 
had been tuned out of the conversation. We thanked her, 
and left the office.

When we got home, we each played our tapes separately, 
as we had been instructed, and I was reassured when I 
heard mine. The questions she had asked me seemed 
pretty straightforward and to the point, but I was a 
little surprised at first to hear some of my answers. 
But listening again, I realized that the hypnosis had 
broken through my conscious thoughts to my true 
feelings. 

One example was when she asked me, "Don, how do you 
feel about having to help with household chores?" and I 
answered, "Well, I know that they have to be done, and 
I help. But I think that they are woman's work, and 
Carol should really do them. After all my mother did 
them all." 

If she had asked me that when I wasn't hypnotized, I 
had to admit to myself, I would have said something 
like, "I enjoy helping and sharing the work with 
Carol," keeping the true feelings hidden. 

Her next comment, or perhaps more of a suggestion was, 
"But if you are going to make your marriage a 
partnership, Don, don't you think you should share the 
work? After all Carol is going out and working just as 
you are." 

My response was "I guess you're right, but somehow that 
just seems, I don't know, strange to me." 

She then suggested, "Maybe you could try to open up 
your feelings and sensitivities a little, try to 
understand it from the woman's, Carol's, point of 
view." 

As I said, I was reassured, because what she said 
didn't seem outlandish, nor did it seem biased against 
men. 

The next evening, we went back for another session, 
since Dr. Welles' technique was for relatively short, 
but intense, periods of counseling. She told us when we 
got to her office that we had made good progress for 
the first day, and that this next session would deal 
with sharing emotions and communication. 

***

I woke up from my session feeling wonderful again, and 
when she told us that she had given us post-hypnotic 
suggestions to consider things from the other person's 
point of view, it seemed to make sense. She said that 
all people have both a masculine and feminine side, but 
that training and conditioning in childhood suppressed 
the "other" side of us. I would therefore not let my 
emotions show as much as Carol would, since that's how 
I had been conditioned. Her suggestions would allow us 
to let the other side through more easily, bringing us 
to a more balanced perspective. 

The next day, without thinking consciously about it, I 
did find myself thinking more about how what I might 
say to someone could affect their feelings, and I 
seemed to be more sensitive to their reactions to me. 
When Carol and I had dinner, I discussed this with her, 
and I realized as I was saying it, that I was opening 
up my own emotions more than normal. But this seemed 
very helpful, and our conversation was much more 
intense and satisfying than the usual. 

I stood at the sink, washing the dishes, and I gave a 
sudden start, because I knew that Carol hadn't asked me 
to do them, and I had hardly ever volunteered before. I 
thought about it for a second, and realized that I had 
reacted to her telling me that she had had an unusually 
tough day at work. But, I thought, that wasn't really 
such a bad thing, and our conversation had been much 
more pleasant than normal. 

We again went to Dr. Welles' office, and she asked us 
how the day had gone, and whether we had experienced 
anything different. When I related the dishwashing 
incident, Carol burst into tears, and I was worried for 
a second. Then I sensed that she was reacting to my 
kindness, and thought that it was nice of me. Dr. 
Welles smiled, and said, "See, we're making progress 
already. Carol, what did you think of Don's doing the 
dishes at the time?" 

"I'm afraid that I didn't even think about it, Doctor," 
she said. "So each of you moved closer to the other's 
thought process, that's good. Tonight, we'll continue 
along the same path, and maybe reinforce the feelings 
of the `other' side a bit." 

I woke refreshed again, and Carol and I went home. 

***

The next morning I showered, and when I went into my 
underwear drawer, I found that Carol had obviously 
mixed up some of our wash when she had put it away. 
When I pulled out a pair of underwear, there was a pair 
of her lacy pink panties on top of the rest of my 
jockey shorts. I was going to say something to her, 
then realized how late it had been when she put the 
wash away last night, and that I would hurt her 
feelings. 

I held the panties in my hand, intending to just slip 
them into her drawer, when a weird thought struck me. 
Since I was obviously becoming more sensitized to my 
`feminine' side, why shouldn't I put them on, to 
heighten the feeling of sensitivity? 

Without thinking any more about it, I slipped my feet 
into them, and pulled them up over my legs. They felt 
smooth and soft as I did, and when I nestled them 
around my cock and balls, I felt a kind of electric, 
erotic reaction to the silky material. In fact they 
felt wonderful, and I wondered why anyone would wear 
rough cotton jockey shorts, when nylon felt so good. 

I hurried to get dressed, and dismissed the thoughts, 
though as we went to work, and for the rest of the day, 
the smooth sensation kept returning and intensifying. 
By the time I got home, Carol was already waiting, and 
as we ate dinner, I confessed what I was wearing, and 
how the panties felt. 

"Why, of course, silly, panties feel wonderful, I could 
have told you that. And how nice of you to not mention 
my mistake this morning, I probably would have been 
upset all day," she said. "Can I see how they look?" 
she teased, and I felt myself blush. "Sure, why not, we 
have to change anyway," I said. 

As I stood in the bedroom, naked except for my pink 
panties, Carol clearly saw the hard-on I had. "Don, we 
have a little time before we have to leave to see Dr. 
Welles..." and before I knew it, she was stroking me 
through the nylon and lace.

Without another word, we hopped into bed and made love, 
quickly and furiously. I didn't let her remove my 
panties, though, just allowing her to free my cock so 
she could impale herself on it, and bring both of us to 
climax. in record time. 

We couldn't linger in bed, because we would be late, so 
we threw on clothes, and drove to the office. As Carol 
was driving, I thought about our lovemaking, knowing 
that it was an abrupt departure from the Saturday night 
pattern we had fallen into. 

"Are you going to say anything to Dr. Welles about 
wearing my panties?" Carol asked me. 

I thought for a second, and said, "Well, it might be a 
little embarrassing, but it really is a sign of 
progress, I guess. Especially when you take in the 
context of making love like we did." 

Carol hugged me, and we went inside. 

Dr. Welles was a little amused by our story, and said 
that was a reaction some couples did experience. "How 
did you like wearing them, Don?" she asked. 

"It was strange at first, I guess, but then it made me 
feel good when I realized that men and women weren't 
all that different. Beside, they are more comfortable 
than jockey shorts." 

I felt myself blush when I said that, but she said, "It 
just shows you how traditional things are not always 
the best. We're just conditioned to think one set way. 
If panties are more comfortable, why should women be 
the only ones who wear them?" 

Then she said that it was time to get going, dismissing 
the incident. We went home, feeling cold from the 
midwinter air, and for the first time since our 
honeymoon, made love for the second time in one day. 
Again, I left my panties on when we made love, and I 
wore them all night as I slept. 

***

The next morning, after I had showered, I asked Carol 
if I could borrow another pair of panties to wear. She 
said, "Sure, I don't blame you, they really are more 
comfortable." 

I pulled the black silky panties on, experiencing the 
same thrilling feeling as they nestled around me. The 
clock radio in our bedroom was on, as usual, and I 
heard the weather forecast: temperatures in the single 
digits all day long. 

"Shit," I said. "I'll be freezing my ass off again. My 
coat and jacket keep the top of me warm, but the cold 
air always gets through my pants. Say, Carol, how can 
you stand to wear skirts in this weather, don't your 
legs get cold?" 

It was an innocent enough question, I thought, and when 
she answered, "Silly, that's why we wear pantyhose. 
They really keep you warm. Didn't Joe Namath advertise 
them years back, because he wore them under his uniform 
when it was bitter cold?" 

I thought back and agreed that he had, also thinking 
that it was a wonderful idea. I asked Carol, "Do you 
have a pair that... that I could borrow. Just to keep 
warm, of course." 

"I think I have an old pair that are pretty stretched 
out - they should be OK on you," she said, looking in 
her underwear drawer. She handed them to me, then we 
sat next to each other on the bed. I imitated the way 
she put them on, rolling each leg up my calves, then 
standing to pull them all the way up. "Hey, these are 
comfortable, too," I said, feeling the sheer nylon 
clinging and caressing my whole lower body. As I walked 
around the room in my panties and pantyhose, the 
brushing of my thighs together sent almost dizzying 
waves through me. My male side fought back, not letting 
me express that to Carol, but that didn't stop how 
wonderful they felt.

All day, I kept thinking to myself how lucky I was to 
be so nice and warm and comfortable, and I pitied my 
male co-workers who weren't as lucky as I was. "Poor 
fools," I thought, if only they knew how easy it was to 
be feeling the way I did. That night, when we had 
finished eating, I realized that because we had made 
love last night, we hadn't done the dishes. 

-Without thinking, I went over to the sink, and began 
to do the two-night's accumulation. Carol came over and 
kissed me, sending a spark through me which was 
compounded by the intense feelings I was already 
getting from the panties and hose with every motion I 
made. To tell the truth, I had been glad that they held 
me in so firmly, since they had been causing me to have 
a hard-on all day long. 

That night's session was similar, and I felt really 
happy that Carol had suggested we go for counseling, as 
our marriage had already improved. That night, when we 
went to bed, I reluctantly removed my pantyhose, 
leaving my panties on, though. We made love again, and 
as we lay there afterward, I told Carol how much I 
loved her, and my feelings about the counseling. She 
hugged me tightly to her, giving me a warm feeling all 
over. She put on a long nightgown, and turned over to 
go to sleep. When she moved away from me, I felt a 
chill all over. 

I said, "I wish you could hold me all night and keep me 
warm. All of a sudden I'm freezing." 

"Sorry about that, dear," she said, but you insist on 
just wearing shorts, or I should say, panties to bed. 
I'm nice and comfy in my nightie." 

I lay there thinking how unfair it was, and I kept 
getting colder and colder it seemed. I could hear 
Carol's breathing fall into the deep rhythm of sleep, 
but I couldn't seem to doze off. After a half hour or 
so, I got up and put on an undershirt. But, though it 
seemed to help the top of me a little, it still left my 
legs freezing.

I said, "the hell with it," took off my undershirt, and 
going into Carol's drawer, I pulled out one of her 
nightgowns. I slipped it over my head, feeling the 
sensation as the nylon slid down my body, and got back 
into bed. I could only think about the sensations for a 
minute or two, because I fell to sleep almost 
immediately.

***

I woke up feeling wonderful, and when I got out of bed, 
I didn't realize, at first, what I was wearing. Carol 
said, "I guess you really must have been cold, Don." 

I blushed, saying, "I hope you don't mind that I 
borrowed your nightie. But I was freezing, and as soon 
as I put it on, I was able to fall asleep." 

"Don't be silly, of course I don't mind. After all 
marriage is all about sharing, and I'm willing to do my 
part, as long as you don't stretch everything I own out 
of shape," she laughed. 

I gave her a big hug and kiss, then went in to shower. 
I took off my nightgown and panties reluctantly, and 
when I was drying myself off, I wondered a little why I 
had felt the urge to wear Carol's things, but she 
hadn't had the urge to wear mine. The answer popped 
into my head immediately, drowning out the errant 
thought. "Because women's clothes are so much nicer, 
and softer, and feel so wonderful, stupid!"

Even though it was going to be warmer today, according 
to the radio, I still felt I might be cold, so after I 
put on the panties, red today, that Carol handed me, I 
pulled on the pair of pantyhose from the day before. 
They didn't feel quite as good, having lost that newly 
washed feeling from yesterday's wearing, but they still 
felt pretty wonderful. I did my work that morning, and 
when I took a break for lunch, the thought popped into 
my head about how nice Carol had been, letting me 
borrow her things.

I realized that it wasn't fair for me to keep doing 
that. Without thinking, I found myself walking into a 
department store, and headed for the woman's 
department. I was usually self-conscious about doing 
this, being embarrassed as hell at Christmas time when 
I bought Carol a robe, or nightgowns. I wandered around 
in an unconscious-like state, only snapping out of it 
when the sales clerk said, "You must be a great 
husband, treating your wife to all these new things. Is 
it your anniversary or her birthday?" 

I saw her holding a large bag in her hand, and I said, 
"Neither, just a little treat." 

I walked out of the store, not even knowing what was in 
the bag. I went into the men's room with the bag, since 
I don't have a private office where I could check out 
the contents. Looking inside the bag, I found a half-
dozen pairs of panties, the same number of packages of 
pantyhose, and three nightgowns! There was an 
assortment of vivid colors, and I couldn't resist 
touching each thing, before I closed the bag, and got 
back to my desk. 

I hurried home that night, and confessed to Carol what 
I had done, but she just smiled and said, "That's OK, 
at least I won't have to worry about having things get 
stretched out, or doing my undie wash as often." 

I told her that I wasn't particularly hungry, but that 
I wanted to shower before we went to Dr. Welles' 
office. I went upstairs, stripped off my clothes and 
took a quick shower. When I had dried off, I opened the 
bag, and put on a pair of the panties I had bought. 
They were a different size than Carol's I saw, and fit 
me better. For some reason, I had the urge to try on 
all of them, and I was soon in a whirlwind of panties, 
not being able to decide which ones I would wear for 
the evening. I heard Carol's voice, "Hon, are you OK, 
we've got to get started." 

"Y-yes, I'm fine, I'll be down in a jiffy." I left on 
the lacy pink panties I was wearing, and opened up a 
package of pantyhose. As I drew them over my legs, I 
could feel how much better they fit than the old pair 
Carol had lent me. They were firm control, and they 
really fit themselves around my legs and butt. The 
control top pulled in my belly, giving me a great 
feeling of togetherness. I noticed that these, too, 
were in a different size than Carol's, but they fit me 
perfectly. A random thought came into my head, how ugly 
the hair on my legs looked under the pantyhose, but I 
dismissed it as I hurried to finish dressing. 

The next week passed quickly, but there were some 
noticeable changes. I didn't even think about what I 
was going to wear panties and hose went on 
automatically every morning, and a nightgown to keep me 
warm at night. But Carol and I were making love nearly 
every night, and when Carol mentioned to me that I 
could use a haircut, I told her that I thought I would 
let it grow for a while, and maybe try a little longer 
style. 

Our sessions continued each night, of course, and I 
always had the same wonderful feeling when I woke up. 
Carol said that she did, too. I must have been getting 
out of shape, I thought to myself one morning. Somehow 
my body seemed to be getting softer, not as muscular as 
I had been. "I'd better start working out," I said to 
myself, then discarding the idea, because between work 
and the counseling sessions, there was certainly no 
time to go to a gym. But I made up my mind that I would 
start after the month of counseling, because I didn't 
like the way my pecs seemed to be getting flabby.

It was the Friday night at the end of the second week, 
and as we sat in the office after our sessions, I was 
disheartened to hear Dr. Welles say, "I was so 
optimistic last week, because you had made so much 
progress, but we seem to have stalled this week. There 
was that initial surge of trying to experience things 
from each other's point of view, but it hasn't been 
fully realized yet." I almost felt like crying, because 
I thought that I had been making every effort, and I 
was sure Carol had, too. "But Doctor, I've really been 
trying to let my female other side out, every day. Its 
just that I get wrapped up in office stuff, and I let 
myself drift back into old habits," I said. Carol 
chimed in, "I agree with Don, I'm finding the same 
thing myself. I try to think guy-thoughts, to 
experience things from his viewpoint, but its hard to 
do when its so easy to slip back into conditioning." 

"Well, this is something I've seen before, and it can 
be worked through. What I would recommend, and its 
lucky that the weekend is coming up, is a prolonged 
period of total role reversal. You should each live 
each other's life for the whole weekend, to reinforce 
what you're trying to accomplish." This seemed silly 
for a second, but then the brilliance of the idea 
flashed into my head. A whole weekend of being a woman 
would certainly strengthen the thought process for me, 
and being a guy for a weekend would let Carol 
understand things better. 

Then the practical aspects of the plan struck me, and I 
said, "but Doctor, it'll cost a small fortune for us to 
go and buy all the clothes we'll need, just for this 
weekend. Isn't there some other way?" 

"No, Don, I really think a reinforcing weekend is 
needed, but as I said, this isn't the first time I've 
encountered this problem. In fact, I have a pretty 
extensive wardrobe that I'll let you borrow from, since 
I agree that it would be an unwarranted expense." 

That pretty much resolved the issue for me, and she 
suggested that we each go with her, separately, to 
choose what the other person would wear. I went into an 
adjoining room with her first, and she opened a large 
walk-in closet, filled with men's things. 

"They're arranged by size, Don, and everything on this 
side should fit Carol well. There was everything a guy 
could ask for, from jeans to tuxedos. "Doctor, I feel a 
little guilty about one thing, do you think Carol has 
to wear these," I said, pointing at the men's 
underwear. "I know what you said about total role 
reversal, but... now that I know how comfortable 
panties are, I'd hate to think of her wearing these 
uncomfortable boxers or jockey shorts." 

"Why Don, that's so nice of you, considering Carol's 
comfort that way. I would suggest that you pick out a 
couple of pair of each, but I'll mention how you feel, 
and not insist that she wear them." 

I made my selections, basically choosing one of each 
garment, and a couple of sets of underwear, putting 
them all into a suitcase. We returned to the office, 
then Carol went into the room, obviously headed for the 
other large closet, where I presumed the women's things 
were. She returned with a suitcase, and with Doctor 
Welles' final instructions, "Now it must be for the 
whole weekend, remember, no chickening out. And it must 
be a total reversal, everything, from clothes to chores 
to what you call each other." 

We said "Goodnight" and Carol hopped into the driver's 
seat, my normal spot when we got to the car. I started 
to say something, when Carol said, "We might as well 
start now, I'll drive, babe!" I chuckled and got in 
next to her.

The thought of how much I was looking forward to the 
weekend kept popping into my head, because I wanted us 
to succeed in our marriage so very much. When we got 
home, Carol got out of the car and hurried over to open 
my door for me. This was something I usually did for 
her, and it was pretty amusing. We went inside, and 
Carol confessed, "I'm feeling a little funny about 
this, Don, how about you?"

"Come on, Carol," I said, Doctor Welles said it would 
be good for us. Besides, it seems like more of a weird 
experience for me, than you. After all, you wear pants 
most of the times on weekends, anyway. But wearing the 
dresses I'm sure you picked out for me will be really 
different." 

As I said that, it didn't seem all that weird, in fact 
it seemed that my mind was really looking forward to 
it. "And," remembering what we had been told, "I think 
you should call me Donna for the weekend. Is Carl all 
right with you?" 

"I guess so, DonNA," she said, "if you're really OK 
with this, I guess I am, too."

For someone who had expressed her doubts like that, she 
really seemed to get into it then. "Well, let's go, 
Donna, its time to get started on your beauty routine 
before bedtime," she said, taking my hand in one of 
hers and the suitcase in the other, and practically 
dragging me upstairs. 

While I got out a pair of boxers and a T-shirt for her 
to wear, she started taking things out of the suitcase 
for me. To my amazement, there were not only clothes, 
but a wig as well, a long blonde one. We took off the 
clothes we were wearing, except for my panties, and she 
put on the underwear. 

"Yuck, these feel all scratchy," she said, "how do you 
guys stand them?" 

"Why do you think I've changed over to panties, Carl. 
They're so much more comfortable!" I resolved to myself 
that after tonight I'd suggest she wear her own undies, 
and tell her what Doctor Welles had said. 

Then we turned to the things she'd laid out for me. 
First, she put the wig on my head, and I felt the brush 
of hair against my shoulders for the first time. Rather 
than being upsetting it felt pretty nice. Then she 
picked up a bra, surprising me. "But I don't have 
anything up there, Caro... Carl." 

"Let's try it on anyway, and she slipped the straps 
over my arms, fastening the back hooks. I looked down, 
as she came around in front of me, adjusting the cups, 
and saw that my pecs, which I had thought were getting 
flabbily, actually molded themselves inside the cups, 
though not nearly filling them. She slipped silicone 
breast forms into each cup, over my own flesh, and I 
saw my first pair of breasts. 

"Aren't they a little big, dear?" I asked.

"Oh please, Donna, you know how we guys like a nice set 
of jugs on our women," she teased back. The silicone 
forms warmed up to skin temperature, and their weight 
felt heavy on my chest. 

"I never realized, or thought about what breasts might 
feel like," I confessed, "it seems like they're so 
heavy they're pulling me over." 

She slipped a nightie over my upraised arms and head, 
and I kind of shook my head to free my long blonde 
hair. "Well, that's over with. I'm really tired, hon, 
let's go to bed," I said. 

"Not so quick," she smiled, "a woman has a whole bunch 
of other things to do. Come with me." She led me over 
to her dressing table, and began to look carefully at 
my face. "While you normally wouldn't wear any makeup 
to bed, if you're going to experience being a woman for 
the weekend, there are a few things." She took out a 
pair of false eyelashes, and glued them into place. 
When I blinked, they brushed against my face, feeling 
very odd. She took a pair of tweezers and plucked out a 
few of my eyebrows, not really changing them all that 
much, just thinning them out a little bit, and maybe a 
hint of shaping. Though they looked rather feminine, I 
didn't think it would be that noticeable on Monday. 

Next she started putting a dark green cream all over my 
face, explaining that this was a facial mask that was 
worn to bed, and which would clean out all my pores. 
While we were waiting for the mask to dry, she glued 
nail-tips on each of my fingers, extending them a good 
half-inch, with a definite feminine shaping. She 
applied a bright red polish to them, then knelt down in 
front of me and did the same to my toenails. 

A tiny voice inside me wanted to protest, but as I 
looked at myself in the mirror, even the green goo on 
my face couldn't stop me from admiring how feminine I 
was becoming. When everything was dry, she got a pair 
of high-heeled black mules, with feathery pom-poms on 
the front and put them in front of me. 

I hadn't really given any thought to wearing heels, but 
when I put them on, I found they were my size and quite 
comfortable. Holding her hand, I stood up, and 
practiced walking around in them. I could feel how the 
strange height affected the way I stood and walked, and 
I swayed my butt in an exaggerated fashion, teasing 
her. 

"You don't want to shake those buns too much, dear, I'm 
starting to get turned on," she said. "Oh, come on, I'm 
a mess with this goop on my face, don't tell me I'm 
turning you on." 

In spite of how tired I was, though, I have to admit 
that being dressed and made up this way was turning ME 
on. "You still look pretty sexy to me, Donna, and you 
do turn me on." I began to say how tired I was, but I 
saw that it was no use, she definitely was horny. And 
even though I was saying "No" I knew I really meant 
"Yes".

She led me over to the bed, and lay me down. I had my 
legs together, but she started kissing me, and gently 
spread them apart. She lay down inside them, and her 
wet pussy slid down over my cock. It almost felt like 
she had the cock that was between us, and my legs 
involuntarily wrapped themselves around her. My high-
heels must have been digging into her back, but that 
seemed to excite her even more. Suddenly, she gave a 
shudder as she climaxed, then she rolled off me. 

I wanted to scream, because I hadn't come yet, but 
before I could say a word, she said, "Thanks dear," and 
rolled over, and went to sleep! I knew that I had done 
that sometimes, but it was very different with the 
high-heels on the other foot. 

I lay there, horny and frustrated, not fully 
understanding yet what I had let myself in for. My 
cock, now tucked back into my panties was hard as a 
rock, and after a little while, I fell into my own 
troubled sleep. I wasn't very comfortable at all - the 
breasts on my chest made it difficult to lay on my 
stomach, and the facial mask had hardened into an 
almost granite-like texture. I was thankful that she 
hadn't put rollers in my hair as well, or I'd never 
have been able to sleep. 

***

When I woke up the next morning, I remembered what had 
happened, and found myself hard as a rock. I looked for 
my slippers, but finding only the mules, I put them on 
and went into the bathroom. For some reason, although 
they hadn't bothered me before, I found I couldn't 
stand up to pee in them. Instead of taking them off, 
though, I just sat down. My cock softened enough for me 
to pee, and I thought briefly about how ridiculous I 
must look, but the thought disappeared as quickly as it 
had come. 

I stood up, and looked in the mirror, hating how ugly 
the green mask looked on me. I began to wash it off, 
and after some time, I finally got rid of it all. It 
did do the trick, I thought to myself. My face seemed 
much softer and smoother. I ran the electric razor over 
my face, thinking that I seemed to have less beard than 
usual.

Carol, Carl, was still sleeping, and without thinking I 
walked over to the dressing table and sat down. My 
hands seemed to have a mind of their own, as I began to 
pick up the cosmetics and apply them to my face. I put 
on foundation and powder, and was amazed at how steady 
my hand was as I applied eye-shadow. The hand that was 
putting the bright red lipstick on my mouth seemed to 
have had years of practice. A little blush, I thought, 
then with that taken care of, I looked at the result. 

There was a woman staring back at me. I knew in my head 
that it was me, but anyone looking at me would not. I 
began to brush the long blonde hair in a very feminine 
manner, giving it my total concentration. "Why, how 
pretty you look, Donna," Carl said, startling me. 
"You've done such a beautiful job on your makeup its 
almost as if you've been doing it for years." I thanked 
her for the compliment, and she hugged me from behind, 
her hands wandering over my silicone-enhanced breasts, 
then slipping a finger inside my bra-cups to tease my 
nipples. I found that, while they had never been 
particularly sensitive before, they now became erect 
and I wriggled under her touch.

"Would you like to get dressed for the day now?" she 
asked. 

"Oh, yes, I would," I breathed. 

She helped me out of my nightgown, bra and panties, and 
I stood naked before her. I saw myself in the mirror, a 
woman from the neck up, but with an obvious male body 
below the waist. In between, though, the bra that I had 
worn all night seemed to have given me little tits. "I 
think you need to have a real womanly shape to wear the 
things I've picked out for you," she said, holding up a 
long white lacy garment. 

"This is a firm control all-in-one," she explained. "It 
zips up the side, so just step into it." 

I did, feeling how tight the buttocks portion of it 
was, molding my buns. I pulled it up over the rest of 
my body, slipping my arms into the bra-straps. When it 
was positioned properly, she told me to suck in my 
belly, and began to zip it up. It rearranged my flesh, 
compressing my waist, and pushing everything upwards. 
My little tits were increased by the silicone forms 
again, giving me an hourglass shape unlike any I had 
had before.

It took me a few seconds to adjust my breathing to the 
tight confining garment's shaping, and Carl waited 
patiently for me. Then she sat me down at the dressing 
table, and showed me how to put on the sheer nylons 
that would be held up by the garters hanging down from 
the all-in-one. When I had put on the first one, I 
unhappily noted my leg hairs showing through the sheer 
material. 

"Carl, these look terrible - you can see the hair 
through them. If this is going to be realistic, should 
I get rid of them?" I hadn't even thought about this 
before the words just popped out. 

"Why, Donna, I guess you're right. Take that stocking 
off, and we'll take care of it right now." I rolled the 
stocking down, and she led me into the bathroom.

She lathered up my legs, and using her pink razor, she 
whisked all my leg hair off. I briefly considered the 
consequences, but dismissed them immediately. I wanted 
to do everything I could to save our marriage, after 
all. So what if I couldn't go to the gym for a while. 
We went back inside, and continued dressing me. When I 
put the stockings back on, they felt so much sexier and 
erotic on my newly shaven legs. 

The open bottom of the all-in-one was covered by a pair 
of silky white panties, then she handed me a white knit 
dress. I held it over my head, then allowed it to slip 
over my body. She brought over white pumps with 3" 
heels, and I stepped into them. For the first time, I 
was dressed totally as a woman, and I rushed over to 
look at myself in the full-length mirror. 

I couldn't recognize myself, so completely had I been 
transformed!

The knit dress clung to every curve that had been 
formed by the all-in-one, and my sleek, smooth legs 
shone beneath the silky nylons. The spike-heeled shoes 
accented the curves of my legs, and, looking up, my 
long blonde hair framed my perfectly made up face. I 
batted my long eyelashes, and I practically simpered as 
I asked her, "Do I look pretty?" 

"You look beautiful, Donna, just breathtaking. Would 
you like to help me dress now?" 

I said," Sure," then remembered my pledge not to make 
her wear the uncomfortable male underwear. I told her 
what I had discussed with Dr. Welles, and she thanked 
me, stripping off the boxers and T-shirt. 

She put on a pair of her own panties as I got out 
socks, a shirt and a pair of slacks. She put them on, 
teasingly saying that the buttons were on the "wrong" 
side. We both laughed at that, then I brought her into 
the bathroom to fix her hair. She already had a fairly 
short hairstyle, so with a little gel, I was able to 
comb it into something resembling a man's cut.  

Even without any makeup, her face was very feminine, 
though, but there wasn't anything we could do about 
that. The shirt hid her breasts pretty well, I thought, 
but she looked much, much less like a guy than I did as 
a woman. Somehow, I felt some pride in how well I had 
been transformed.

We went downstairs, with me walking carefully as I 
negotiated the steps in my heels. I began to make us 
some breakfast, as Carl read the paper and drank a cup 
of coffee. I felt so happy being able to do this for 
her, and I knew that I my feminine side was becoming 
more pronounced almost minute by minute. When Carl 
said, "Got another cup of coffee for me, babe?" 

I recognized the words as ones I had often used, so 
apparently her assumption of the traditional male 
dominant role was taking place as well. After 
breakfast, I cleaned up while she went in and went 
through the mail. I found that I needed to go to the 
bathroom to pee, and I found myself automatically 
sitting down without thinking about it. I seemed to be 
having these momentary lapses of consciousness, but I 
attributed it to the new role I was playing. 

I busied myself for the rest of the morning by doing 
some laundry, and when I was getting ready to put on 
the load of feminine undies, I found myself staring at 
each item and fondling it before putting it in the 
washer. I found that I loved the silky feel of them, 
and only reluctantly let go of each one. While I was 
waiting for that wash to finish, I sat down in the 
kitchen and had another cup of coffee.

Carol came up behind me, and began to nuzzle at my 
neck. I felt waves of erotic sensations surging through 
me, and when she whispered, "Donna, sweetums, I feel 
kind of horny," I wanted to be made love to 
desperately. 

"Me, too," I responded, as she took my hand and led me 
upstairs. She helped me off with my dress and panties, 
leaving the rest of my clothes in place. 

She stripped her clothes off quickly, and we got into 
bed, in a 69-position. I immediately lowered my face 
into her womanhood, licking at her erect clit. She 
reached under my all-in-one and began to stroke my 
erect cock. "Does this feel good, Donna, sweetums?" she 
asked. Again, when she said those words, a surge went 
through me, and I wanted her to play with my ass. 

"Put your finger inside me, Carl, please," I begged. 

She slid her other hand inside my clothes, and put her 
moistened finger on my tiny rosebud. She teased me with 
it, slipping the tip of it in and out, until I begged 
her again to enter me. I felt myself relaxing as her 
finger went all the way inside me, and begin to move 
back and forth with the rhythm of her cock-stroking. 

"More, more," I begged, and a second, then a third 
finger joined the first. She pumped me, as I continued 
to eat her pussy, and we finally came together with 
thundering orgasms. 

We lay still for a moment, then she started to grind 
her pussy against my face wanting more. As I began to 
eat her again, she moistened her fingers with my cum, 
and reinserted her fingers inside me. I knew that I 
wanted to be filled like this, and the slippery fingers 
felt so wonderful inside me. My hips were thrusting to 
match her movements, and she didn't stop until she came 
twice more, covering my face with her juices. 

I lay there, amazed at how much I had wanted to be 
filled by her, something I had never even thought of 
before. But it had felt so good, being penetrated by 
her, just like a real woman!

I knew that I was a real mess, and in a few moments I 
got up to wash my face and fix my makeup. Carol lay in 
bed, watching me, and asked, "Isn't doing housework a 
bitch, you always feel like a maid, Donna, don't you?" 

When she said that something snapped inside me, and I 
said, "I'd be happy to be your maid, dear." It wasn't a 
conscious thought, it just popped out. 

Carol got up and went over to the suitcase. She pulled 
out some frilly black things, and said, "Well, if 
that's what you want..." She helped me out of my all-
in-one and stockings, and began to lace me into a black 
satin waist-cincher. If I had thought the all-in-one 
was tight, this was crushing. 

I gasped as Carol laced up the back, eyelet by eyelet. 
"I can't wait to see how sexy you look in this outfit 
of a maid, Donna," she said. 

As soon as she said "maid, Donna," I wanted so much to 
be laced up that the protest I had started to make died 
on my lips unsaid. She handed me sheer, seamed black 
stockings and I automatically rolled them up my legs 
and attached them to the garters hanging from the 
cincher. 

She held out a pair of lace-ruffled satin panties, and 
to my eyes, they were the most desirable thing I had 
ever seen. I sat there, clad in feminine finery from 
the waist down, and placed my arms through the straps 
of the long-line bra Carol held out for me. I saw that 
my tits were totally exposed - there was under-wiring 
and the outline of bra cups, but no cups themselves. 

The puffy flesh of my chest formed into two mounds, and 
Carol pulled even more through the cup outlines. Even 
without padding I saw that I had two real breasts, of 
my own flesh, although they were quite small, of 
course. But they were real, and when Donna said, "Do 
you like your new tits, Donna?" a surge of pleasure 
raced through me, and I nodded, 'yes', unable to speak. 

She then helped me into the maid's dress I felt I 
wanted to wear so much. It had self-contained crinoline 
petticoats underneath the black satin skirt, and though 
it had a bodice, it ended below the bottoms of my new 
tits, leaving them fully exposed. I raised one red-
tipped hand to my breast, and caressed it lightly, 
feeling how firm it felt. 

My nipple hardened, and I rolled it between two red 
nails. The sight of myself in the mirror while I did 
this was tremendously exciting, making my cock get 
erect again inside my satin panties. 

"Enough fooling around, Maid Donna," Carol said, 
"there's plenty of work to do to make the house sparkle 
and shine." 

I jumped up and began to do housework, as though it 
were the most wonderful task in the world. And the only 
thoughts inside my head were to please Carol by doing a 
good job, showing her that I could fully understand the 
feminine perspective.

By early evening, the house shone, and Carol 
complimented me on what a good job I'd done. "The whole 
house looks great, Donna, you've done a wonderful job." 
I beamed with pleasure, and thanked her. "What would 
you like to do now, Donna sweetums?" she asked. I 
suddenly wanted to make love again, and I said so.

We practically ran upstairs, and when she laid me back 
on the bed, and asked, "How would you like to make 
love, Donna sweetums, Donna sweetums?" 

I answered, "I want to be made love to like a woman, 
Carol, I want to be filled by you." I lay there 
passively and watched her put on a harness-like device 
around her waist. 

She inserted one end of a double-sided dildo inside 
herself, then walked over and stood above me. "Do you 
want this, Donna sweetums, Donna sweetums?" 

"Oh, yes, please, Carol, fuck me in my ass, I want your 
cock inside me!" I begged. 

She lubricated the tip of the dildo, and positioned it 
at my opening. I moved forward, as if to suck it inside 
me, previously unknown thoughts driving me to do it. 
She slowly slid the false cock inside me, but I wanted 
more, now, faster, as she whispered, "Donna sweetums," 
over and over in my ear. 

Each time she said that I wanted it more, until the 
full 8" length of her cock was buried inside me. I 
began to rock my hips in a primitive rhythm, and she 
matched my movements, withdrawing the cock almost out 
of me, then plunging the full length into me again and 
again. 

Waves of intense pleasure surged through me, and she 
kept whispering in my ear, "I'm fucking your virgin 
ass-pussy, Donna sweetums." 

The movement of the dildo inside her soon had her first 
at the brink, then over the edge of orgasm, and I moved 
my hand to my cock, picturing the red nails against the 
blood-filled flesh, and brought on my own orgasm, as 
she gave a final, savage thrust into me. 

I lay there, filled and contented beyond belief, 
feeling so much like a woman, and loving every second 
of it. When she finally began to withdraw from me, I 
saw that the dildo was streaked with blood, but far 
from being upset, I felt it was like the blood that 
every virgin gives up to her first lover. Carol seemed 
more concerned about it than I did, but I hugged her 
close to me, feeling her resting on my new titties. 

My nipples were still erect, from the touch of her 
against me. "Don't worry about it, sweetheart, its 
nothing," I said. 

"Are you sure, Donna?" 

I just hugged her again in response, filled with love. 
"But maybe its your period, Donna," she continued. When 
she said that I nodded, and said, "maybe I need a 
tampon, dear." Another thought out of left field that 
just popped out. 

Before I knew it, she had gone away and returned with 
one of her tampons. "Are you sure its your period, 
Donna?" and I said, "Yes, please put the tampon in my 
ass-pussy, dear." She did, and although it was much 
smaller than the ass-filling dildo had been, it was 
still comforting to feel its presence inside my woman-
hole.

We lay there together for a while, and I felt a little 
tired from the day's activities. I told this to her, 
and she said, "do you want to sleep now, Donna dear?" 
As soon as she said that, I grew unbelievably tired all 
of a sudden, not able to keep my eyes open. I felt 
myself falling immediately to sleep, as dreams, strange 
but pleasurable, filled my head. 

The next thing I knew, Carol was whispering something 
in my ear, and I woke up, feeling as refreshed as I did 
after one of our sessions with Dr. Welles. She said, 
"C'mon, sleepyhead, its morning already." I had slept 
right through the night! Carol had apparently removed 
the maid's clothes from me, because I was wearing a 
gauzy nightgown and panties. 

As I took stock of my situation, I realized that I 
still had my tampon, though, and around my chest was a 
regular version of the cup-less bra I had worn 
yesterday. She had apparently also given me another 
facial mask, because I could feel its hardened presence 
on my face. 

Carol played with my breasts through the nightgown, 
asking me, "do you still like your tits, Donna?" Again, 
the surge of pleasure at her words, and I found myself 
getting aroused inside my panties. When her hand moved 
down to touch me, I wanted her to make love to me 
again. And she did, sitting on my erect cock, sliding 
up and down until she made both of us cum.

In the back of my mind, as I lay there, the thought 
crept in that when Carol said certain things to me, my 
reactions were almost involuntary. I tried to shake the 
feeling away, but it persisted. Even thinking the words 
to myself caused some of the reaction to happen. 

"Tits, Donna" made me proud of my fleshy chest growths, 
"Donna sweetums" made me think of being fucked in the 
ass. I didn't understand why it was so, but it was. 
When Carol returned from the bathroom, I mentioned it 
to her, but she dismissed the idea. "Don't be silly, 
its just your mind playing tricks on you. You're 
learning the feminine perspective, and those words must 
be enhancing your feelings for the moment. I love you 
so much, silly little Donna-head," she said, and the 
thoughts immediately left my head. 

In a while we got up, showered and got dressed. The 
outfit Carol had selected for me was a nice cotton 
shirtwaist dress, and underneath I wore panties and 
pantyhose. Carol had given me a regular bra to wear, 
and the silicone forms, but I asked if I could continue 
wearing the bra I already had on. I liked the way my 
own flesh was formed into breasts, though it seemed as 
if they were a bit larger than they had been yesterday.

 I must really be getting out of shape, I thought. 
Though, they did look awfully cute. Carol put on a 
sweat suit I had chosen for her, and she fixed her hair 
with the gel while I shaved. My beard was actually very 
light, I thought as I put on a little makeup. I didn't 
put on as much as yesterday, but my skin was so soft 
and smooth from the facial mask that it still looked 
very feminine. 

We just lounged around for most of the morning, reading 
the Sunday papers, and about noontime, I made us a nice 
little brunch. I cleaned up after we had finished 
eating, then Carol changed into slacks and a sweater. 
She asked me if I would like to go out and do a little 
shopping. "Honey, I can't go out dressed as a woman. 
People would spot me in a minute." 

"Don't be silly, you look so cute, no one would ever be 
able to tell that you're my husband, dressed in women's 
clothes," she said. 

I refused, saying that while I had agreed to spend the 
weekend like this, I certainly hadn't agreed to go 
outside. 

"Oh, honey," she said, "shopping is such a big part of 
being a woman. I really think we should have a shopping 
party, Donna dearest!" 

When she said that, all the arguments I had against 
going out just flew out of my mind. The next thing I 
knew, she was helping me on with my coat, and I picked 
up my purse and walked out to the car with her. My head 
was filled with the overwhelming impulse to go 
shopping, in spite of what I had been saying just 
moments before. 

We arrived at the mall, and she said, "Ready for our 
shopping party, Donna dearest?" and the urge to go 
inside and shop got even stronger. This wasn't the mall 
where we usually shopped, so I was in strange 
surroundings, but Carol seemed to know her way around. 

I followed her around, my worries about being spotted 
resurfacing from time to time, but diminishing as I 
didn't see any unusual reactions toward me. "I don't 
really need anything," Carol said, "so why don't we 
just pick up a few things for you?" 

She led me into a lingerie store, and before I could 
form the words, "but I'm only dressed like this for the 
weekend," she said, "let's make this a real special 
shopping party, Donna dearest, and pick up some 
frillies of your very own. You have to return the 
things you borrowed to Dr. Welles, you know." 

That seemed to make sense to me, or at least some kind 
of sense. The last thing I remember, after walking into 
the shop, was Carol saying something to the owner, then 
turning to ask me, "are you in some kind of a trance, 
Donna dearest?" Then suddenly we were leaving the shop, 
carrying a bunch of packages and shopping bags. 

We got back into the car and drove home. On the way, I 
asked Carol what had gone on in the shop, because I was 
confused, and couldn't seem to remember. "You know, 
Donna, your IQ must have dropped when you started 
wearing the blonde wig. You seem to be spacing out all 
the time." 

I was embarrassed, so I didn't say anything else. When 
we got home, I mentioned to her that my nipples were 
very sensitive, and the cotton dress seemed to be 
aggravating them, making them sore. "Well, why don't 
you pick out something softer from the shopping bag of 
things we just bought at our shopping party, Donna 
dearest?" she suggested. 

I went upstairs with the bag, and started to look 
through it. There were a number of silky dresses that 
seemed a little too dressy for a Sunday afternoon, I 
thought, but there was a particularly nice wool skirt, 
with a matching pink silk blouse that I thought would 
be very attractive. I took off the dress I was wearing, 
and slipped my arms into the soft smooth blouse. As I 
was buttoning it up, I noticed how my tits were filling 
out the blouse, and I could have sworn they were even 
larger than they had been this morning. 

The touch of the silky material against them sent 
sensuous waves through me, and I could see my nipples, 
erect, I guessed from the irritation of the cotton, 
jutting out through the fabric. It felt wonderful, I 
thought, as I pulled on the curve hugging skirt. Damn, 
I must be putting on weight, as well as being out of 
shape I thought, as I looked at the smooth curves of my 
buns under the skirt. It seemed as though they were 
much larger than they had been a week before.

I looked for shoes that would go with the pink outfit, 
and not seeing anything more suitable, I slipped on the 
3" white pumps I had worn yesterday. I brushed out y 
hair, and fixed my makeup before going downstairs. "My, 
my, don't you look sweet, dear," Carol said to me when 
I walked into the room. "Almost good enough to eat." 

My cock was a little hard inside my panties, and just 
the slightest bulge showed in the front of the skirt. 
Her words turned me on, and I saw myself bulging out 
more and more. She laughed, and knelt down in front of 
me. She lifted my skirt, lowered my panties, and began 
to teasingly lick on my erection. Her hands wandered up 
my body, and began to caress my tits, making the 
jutting of my nipples even more pronounced. 

She was murmuring things as she licked my cock, and she 
finally asked, "do you like wearing those clothes, 
Donna, do they feel nice?" I sighed, "Yes, yes," as she 
took me into her mouth, and quickly sucked me to 
climax.

My cum was all over her lips, and I felt the urge to 
kiss her, and taste what my essence was like. I put my 
lipsticked mouth on hers, and as we kissed, she slid 
the wad of my cum that had been in her mouth into mine. 
The salty taste was different, and it heightened the 
sensuous kiss.

We were interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. I 
went over and picked it up, and heard Dr. Welles' 
voice. "How is the weekend going, Donna?" she asked. 
"Oh, just great, I think we're really coming along, 
Doctor," I said. 

"That's wonderful, dear. Listen, I know that this is at 
the last minute, but I'm having a small get-together at 
my house this evening, and I was wondering if you and 
Carol would like to join us?" 

I wondered if the woman could be serious - she knew 
that I, we had promised to spend the weekend in 
reversed roles, and I started to remind her of that. 
But she said, "It will just be a small formal party, 
Donna dearest. You can wear a nice gown, and Carol can 
wear the tux you picked out for her." 

When she said small formal party, the idea sounded good 
somehow, and I told her to hold on while I checked with 
Carol. "You do that, dear," she chuckled, and Carol 
immediately said, "Sure, why not?" Dr. Welles gave me 
the details on time and place, and hung up. 

Carol said that we'd better start getting ready right 
away, and we went upstairs to prepare. She started a 
bubble bath for me, and when I got in, I noticed that 
my breasts were definitely larger than I had thought, 
and they looked quite sexy with the bubbles floating 
around them. I tried to concentrate on them, wondering 
what was happening, but Carol called out, "C'mon, 
slowpoke, you can't spend all night in there!"

I dried myself off, and wrapped the towel around me, 
not from the waist down as I normally would, but over 
my chest to hide my fleshiness. Could I be somehow 
taking on the shape of a woman, just from trying to 
think, feel and act like one? 

Carol had already gotten into her tux, and I 
complimented her on how nice she looked. Her feminine 
shape wasn't really hidden by it, though. She looked 
more like an actress I had seen once on an award show 
who had worn a similar outfit. I looked on the bed, and 
saw the underwear she had selected for me. I groaned a 
little when I saw a red waist cincher, knowing how 
tight it was going to be. I was right, in fact it was 
even tighter than the black one. 

It took a few minutes for me to be able to get used to 
breathing again. There were sheer red stockings there, 
and I sat down to attach them to the garters. A pair of 
red satin panties slid easily over them, and Carol 
fastened on a strapless red bra. I gasped when I saw 
what it did for, to me. It only had half cups, and 
there were pads inside that pushed my tits upward, 
giving me a tremendous amount of cleavage. The cups 
just barely covered my nipples, and I asked Carol if 
maybe this wasn't a bit too much. 

"But the gown you're going to wear is so low-cut, you 
need to wear this bra. Besides, don't you want to show 
off your tits, Donna?" 

Suddenly, I felt that I really did, and I stood up so 
Carol could help me into my gown. I couldn't believe 
how beautiful it was - a deep red velvet, with long 
sleeves, formfitting down to the waist, with a slightly 
relaxed sheath skirt. I slipped it over my head, and I 
realized from the fit that I really had needed such a 
tight waist cincher to be able to wear this lovely 
gown! 

As she zipped me up, I saw what she had meant about the 
bra - my creamy globes were lifted above the neckline, 
showing off my cleavage. I was in a daze as she applied 
my makeup, and brushed my hair. Finally, she placed the 
highest heels I had ever worn, they must have been 4" 
or more on my feet. She was standing in front of the 
dressing table mirror, so I couldn't see what I looked 
like, but when I stood in front of the full mirror.

I was a vision in red. The tight gown accented my 
curves, and between the contrast of my blonde hair and 
white breasts and the red of the dress, the effect was 
stunning. If I had been told I would look like this if 
someone dressed me as a woman, I'd never have believed 
them, but there was undeniable proof right before my 
eyes. "You are a real knockout, Donna. Ready for the 
small, formal party, Donna?" 

"Yes, of course, I can't wait, dear," I said, and we 
went downstairs to leave. 

It was only a short drive to Dr. Welles' house, and my 
euphoric feeling continued until we rang her bell. 
"Carol, I'm upset about this, I just know that I'm 
going to be spotted as a man." "Don't be silly, 
darling, Dr. Welles wouldn't put you in a situation she 
didn't think you could handle..." she answered, 
interrupted by the opening of the door. 

Dr. Welles stood there greeting us. "Welcome, welcome, 
come on in," she urged. And this was quite a different 
Dr. Welles - instead of the business-like suits she 
wore for our sessions, with her hair in a severe up-
style, she looked absolutely gorgeous in a figure-
hugging black evening gown that showed off her curves 
wonderfully. Her long hair swept down around her face, 
reaching well below her shoulders. 

"My, you're beautiful, Donna, I just knew you would be. 
Please, come in and meet the others. I didn't mention 
this before, but the other guests are all at the same 
stage of counseling," she said as she led us inside, 
"having a role reversal weekend. None of the husbands 
look nearly as good as you, Donna!" 

My mind struggles to assimilate what she had said - 
that the other men would be dressed as women, and the 
women as men too! Somehow this seemed to relieve my 
anxiety, and when I saw the six people in the living 
room, I knew that it would be OK. 

There was no doubt that what she had said was true - 
the other guys looked like men in dresses, none of them 
would have been able to pass as women. And the wives 
were all wearing tuxedos, just like Carol. It was 
definitely a strange group. 

Dr. Welles said a few words, "Thank you all for coming 
tonight. This is an important part of the counseling 
process, the learning of how to socialize while you are 
in your 'other' side. You'll find that the roles of men 
and women are very different at these occasions, and it 
will advance your process considerably. But that's 
enough about why we're here, let's just all have a good 
time!" 

We took her at her word, and began to chat, as one 
normally does at cocktail parties. Dr. Welles' maid 
carried around a tray with champagne, and I took a 
glass in my hand. I noticed that the outfit was pretty 
similar to the one I had worn, though the top, of 
course, was much more modest, not exposing her breasts. 
I was a little surprised by this, not picturing Dr. 
Welles as someone who would be into sexual 
stereotyping, but looking at the sexy babe, I couldn't 
knock tradition.

As is normal, the guys and girls clustered together, 
but the conversation was much different than usual. 
Instead of sports, the four gown-clad men talked about 
the weekend's adventure. One of them said, "I would 
never have pictured myself this way, dressed in women's 
clothes. But I really have gotten into it, and I am 
starting to see things from my wife's perspective." 

I piped up that I had been surprised to find out how 
comfortable panties were, and how pantyhose kept you so 
much warmer in the cold. There was a general nodding of 
heads, and I realized that mine was not a unique 
discovery. "I love the way panties feel under my suit," 
one of them said, "and even when the counseling is 
over, I'm through with boxer shorts for good." Again, 
there was a nodding of agreement from all of us.

There was music playing in the background, and Carol 
came over to me and asked me to dance. She assumed the 
male position, and I snuggled myself against her. Her 
hand stroked my velvet-covered back, and slid down to 
rest for a second on my buns. "Don't be so fresh, 
dear," I teased her, as she led me around the floor. 

"You are the prettiest 'girl' here, Donna," she said, 
laughingly, "I guess I just can't help myself."

About an hour later, I realized that I had to go to the 
bathroom, so I headed upstairs. When I had finished, I 
passed a closed door as I was heading down the hall 
toward the stairs. Suddenly I heard voices behind a 
closed door - Carol's and Dr. Welles. "And he doesn't 
suspect anything, Carol, about what's happening to 
him?" Dr. Welles asked. 

"No, not a thing, though I've had to use the post-
hypnotic phrases quite a bit to keep him on track," 
Carol answered. Post-hypnotic phrases - suddenly I 
realized why certain things Carol had said to me had 
caused unusual reactions! These bitches had been 
brainwashing me, and I had been going merrily along, 
believing that I was trying to save our marriage. I 
threw open the door, and shouted, "What have you been 
doing to me?" 

They looked around at me, and Dr. Welles said, "Shut 
the door, Donna, and lower your voice. You wouldn't 
want to upset the others." 

I definitely did want to upset the others, and I was 
going to keep yelling, but for some reason, my voice 
wouldn't go above a normal tone. "What kind of a crazy 
plot is this, making guys dress up as girls, what's 
going on?"

Dr. Welles said in a calm tone, "Freeze, Donna," and I 
found myself unable to move or speak. I could see and 
hear perfectly, however, and the words she spoke 
chilled me. "Carol heard about the unique counseling 
services I offer from one of her friends. I help wives 
become the dominant partners in marriages, and turn 
their husbands into simpering, feminized slaves. 

"I've found that macho assholes like you make ideal 
sissies, and by using hypnosis, they remain under their 
wives' control forever. I guess you'd say that I'm at 
the forefront of the women's movement, not satisfied 
with equality between the genders, but in favor of 
promoting the natural superiority of women!" I saw her 
open the door, and call out, "Bobbi, would you come up 
here for a minute?" 

Moments later, there was a knock on the door, then the 
maid entered the room. "You see, Donna," Dr. Welles 
continued, "I've been doing this for quite a while, and 
quite successfully, I might add. I'd like to introduce 
you to my husband, Bobbi, formerly know as Robert." 
That beautiful maid was a guy? I couldn't believe it. I 
hadn't had a clue, in fact, looking at him, her, I 
still didn't believe it. My skepticism must have shown 
on my face, because Dr. Welles said, "Strip off your 
clothes, Bobbi, to prove what I said is true." 

The maid's outfit was off in a flash, and when he 
pulled down his panties, a long cock was clearly 
visible. "Take off your bra, too, Bobbi," Dr. Welles 
said, and when he did, I saw that he had a large pair 
of well-defined breasts! "You may have noticed some 
changes in your own body, Donna, a softening of your 
skin, growth of your breasts, a changing of your hips 
and buttocks? 

"Those have been caused by a special hormonal implant I 
gave you, the night of your second session with me. 
I've done some quite advanced research, and have 
managed to isolate the particular components of 
estrogen which enhance breast and body development into 
feminine proportions without reducing the penis or 
testicle size. Also, it doesn't inhibit sexual desire, 
which was one of the major problems before." 

I could not believe what I was hearing - she and Carol 
had been conspiring to turn me into a feminized slave, 
and I knew that they had already made significant 
progress! I wanted to scream out, to protest, to kill 
them, for doing this to me, but I was still frozen, 
unable to speak. 

"I know just how you're feeling right now, Donna," she 
said, as my mind shouted, "stop calling me that - my 
name is Don!" 

"There are a few other things you might as well know - 
Carol hasn't told you, but she's gotten a major 
promotion at work. So a second income, yours, isn't 
going to be needed. But we'll arrange for you to go on 
disability, so Carol will still have some extra cash, 
when you have to leave your job. The hormonal implant 
can't be reversed, and you'll continue to experience 
body changes for another six months or so, until you 
have as nice a feminine shape as Bobbi here. Carol 
will, of course, know all the post-hypnotic commands to 
keep you under control at all times, but after a while, 
I doubt she'll even have to use them - you'll grow to 
love your new role." 

My mind said, "No way, I'll get out of this mess 
somehow, now that I know about this I'll be able to 
resist the commands." Again, a look must have tipped 
her off to what I was feeling, and she turned to Carol 
and laughed, "She doesn't believe it, even after I've 
told her all this." 

Carol laughed as well, and said, "maybe you should 
prove it to him, Nora." 

"Why not, Carol, after all this is a party, isn't it?" 
Addressing me she said, "Slut-slave Donna, unfreeze 
Donna, and obey Mistress Carol." 

My body relaxed and I could move again, but when Carol 
commanded, "Suck Bobbi's cock, slut-slave Donna," I 
could only walk over and kneel in front of his limp 
cock. I was compelled to put my lips around it, and I 
began to lick and suck him to erection. It lengthened, 
stiffened and grew wider, filling my mouth, and he 
began to pump in and out of me. 

It went all the way down my throat, gagging me for a 
second, and I felt tears starting to form in my eyes. 
"Enjoy it, slut-slave Donna," Carol commanded, and the 
repulsion I felt disappeared. 

I was enjoying it, and my entire mind was focused on 
the pleasure I felt from my cock-sucking! "Stop, 
Donna," Carol ordered, and I did, though I didn't want 
to. "Come here, lift your dress over your hips, kneel 
in front of me, and eat my pussy, slut-slave Donna." I 
obeyed without question, lifting my first my dress, 
then lowering her pants and panties. 

She spread her legs to give me access, and as I sunk my 
mouth into her mound, I heard Dr. Welles saying 
something to Bobbi. As I ate her pussy, I felt my 
panties being pulled down, and Bobbi's rigid shaft 
touched my ass-cunt. "Enjoy this, Donna sweetums," 
Carol ordered, as I felt his huge cock begin to 
penetrate me. 

My hole was totally relaxed as I continued eating 
Carol's sopping cunt, and in a minute, I had the 
wonderful contented feeling of having my inside filled 
with cock, a real one this time, instead of the false 
one Carol had used. Carol gripped my head tightly 
against her, and the licking I was doing brought her to 
a swift climax. Bobbi continued his pounding thrusting 
fucking of my ass, while Carol moved away from me, and 
I found myself looking at another dripping cunt, this 
time, Dr. Welles'.

I began working on her, and when I felt Bobbi give his 
final thrust, his hot steamy cum shot up into my 
bowels. "Make Donna feel good now, Bobbi," Dr. Welles 
ordered. He reached his hand under my ass, snaking 
between my legs, until he could grasp my cock. He 
stroked me gently, while I continued to service Dr. 
Welles, and we both came a moment later. 

I continued to kneel there, pussy-juices soaking my 
face, Bobbi's cum dripping out of my ass, and I began 
to sob with the realization of what had been done to 
me, and what was yet to come. "I think you are getting 
the picture Donna -the extent of Carol's control over 
you. Your body with continue to become more feminine, 
and only if you please Carol will your life be anything 
other than hell on earth. 

"On the other hand, should you keep her very happy, you 
can have a good life as well. Now why don't you get 
yourself up, fix your makeup, and come back downstairs. 
I hope that I don't have to explicitly tell you to keep 
what you've learned to yourself - not all the men are 
quite as far along as you are, and I don't want any 
trouble, understand?" 

I nodded in agreement, because I had barely been able 
to assimilate my own situation, much less give any 
thought to how to help the others. We only stayed at 
the party for a few minutes after I returned 
downstairs, and then we left to drive home. I asked 
Carol why she had done this to me, but her only 
response was, "It was something we both needed." 

I don't know whether that was true or not even now, two 
years after the events in my story took place. Dr. 
Welles was correct when she said that my body would 
continue to become more feminine, my breasts are now 
fully developed, and almost all my body hair has 
disappeared. My head is now crowned with my own long 
silky hair, and electrolysis removed the last remnants 
of my beard. Except for my cock, which is as big as 
ever, and fully functional, there is no way that anyone 
who looks at me could ever think that I am, was, a man. 

Carol treats me well, and except for playing B&D games 
once in a while, doesn't mistreat or torture me. On the 
other hand, I have become a really good girlfriend for 
her. I don't really miss going to work, and I've 
learned to love being a woman, even the less pleasant 
aspects, like housework. But one thing that Dr. Welles 
was wrong about, I have been able to learn to resist 
the post hypnotic suggestions, at least some of the 
time. 

But then again, as I sit here, proofreading this story, 
in frilly black panties, with my new breasts filling 
the cups of my 40C bra, my long lacquered fingernails 
stroking my erect cock, and my prostate being massaged 
by a vibrating butt-plug, well, I can only say, "What 
more could a girl ask for?"

FIN

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 65