Friday 10 February 2012

Gemma

When my wife, Gemma, told me that she wanted me to take the wifely role and to dress accordingly I cried my heart out.  “Aren’t you happy?” I asked her.  “Don’t we have a good life the way we are?” I asked as I wept.  “Little one, this isn’t for me. This is for you. This is to make you complete and happy”.  At that moment it didn’t feel like it, it felt like the end of my existence.
I cried again the first time she dressed me.  Admittedly my little penis gave things away the first time the pair of pink panties was pulled up my legs.   “Somebody seems to like it”, she commented with a smile.  The matching pink bra was so awkward to put on and the little pink tutu, garter and stockings, was all too much for me.  “I look ridiculous”, I cried as Gemma pulled me towards her and buried my face in her ample bosom.  “Now listen to me John, you do not look ridiculous; you look sweet and you are going to be your Gemma’s little girl. Now dry those eyes and pull yourself together”.  Gemma sat me at her makeup table and began pottering around me with foundation, blusher, lipstick and the hundred and one pots of this and tubes of that on her bureau.  As she did so she talked soothingly so that within half an hour I was calmer and breathing a little easier.
It wasn’t easy in those first days. I still had bad days when all I could do was weep, but gradually my life began to take shape.  Gemma had the spare room redecorated and this became my pink palace, with pink bed cover and curtains and a lovely deep pink carpet.  There were draws and cupboards that ever so slowly began to fill up with the things that Gemma began to buy me.  I had one draw for panties, and another for bras and stockings and garter belts.  Petticoats were in a separate draw, and a range of skirts, tops and dresses began to appear in the wardrobe, along with some shoes, all with frightening looking heels.  In amongst the dresses were two perfect maids dresses, one in pink and one in black and this is what Gemma increasingly asked me to wear around the house.  
It wasn’t easy.  Every time I dressed in the morning I felt as I did the first time.  I felt like a freak in a circus.  Gemma didn’t seem to understand or want to understand.  “Now stop crying and pull yourself together.  You look lovely, so dry those eyes and just get on with things.  For goodness sake, Julia” - she called me Julia now – “I am doing all this for you”.  With my pink maids costume that had a skirt line that splayed out leaving my matching panties and stockings on display, and shoes that I balanced on precariously I found it hard to see how this was for my benefit.
Gemma had thrown my boys clothes out within a few days of the start, but several weeks later as I was doing the laundry I found a pair of my old boxer shorts tucked behind the washing machine.  I immediately slipped off my panties and put the boxers on, trying even for a moment to recapture some of the old feeling of being a male.  I drew them up my legs, but almost immediately I felt disappointed.  They felt rough and unfamiliar compared to the smooth feeling of the panties, and almost immediately I changed out of them and back into the panties, carefully putting the boxer shorts back where I had found them.  Somehow the panties made me strangely excited – I often got a hard on as soon as I put them on in the morning - and that feeling of being on an erotic edge seemed to last most of the day.  I was no longer sure I wanted to go back to boys clothes.
I began not to begrudge dressing in the morning quite so much, and the tears at least partially began to subside.  If only I looked a little bit more convincing as a female.  Gemma had started me on a course of pills and injections almost at the beginning.  She never told me what they were for, but after a few weeks I noticed my body changing; my hips began to move outwards and there were definite developments in my breast area.   Gemma was also a very good teacher in the dark arts of makeup, and soon I was doing a passable job of doing my own.  But I still believed I looked like a bad drag act.
One day Gemma popped her head round the bedroom door and announced “we are going shopping – be ready in 10 minutes”.  I started to panic. I never went out and couldn’t possibly go out looking like this.  “But Gemma I can’t…..”  Gemma cut me short. “No arguments, you are coming clothes shopping with me…now slip into that pencil skirt I bought you last week”.  It was no use; I had to go.  I spent the ten minutes making myself as presentable as I could, and cringed as I looked in the mirror.  I don’t think I could take any catcalls from the teenagers who hung around the Mall.  I think I would rather die than go through that.
In the event it wasn’t so bad.  I was very nervous and had decided that I could get through it if I just avoided eye contact with everyone.  This made Gemma a little infuriated “…please could you look at the assistant when you are discussing the sort of panties you are looking for…” she complained, but the whole afternoon passed without incident and I was soon back safe at home.  Gemma took me out shopping every Saturday afternoon from that point onwards and my confidence began to grow slowly.  Either everyone was too polite to say anything or they just didn’t realise I was not who they thought I was.
A minor triumph came one afternoon when Gemma had a final stop to make and asked me to make my own way back to the car park.  I noticed a group of about a dozen teenagers of about 16 or 17 hanging around at the car park entrance, not doing anything but talking and watching people go by.  I hesitated, but there was no other way of getting to the car park; I would have to go past them.  With my eyes facing forwards not looking at them I just walked slowly past them.  As I reached a point well past them and I began to feel relieved one of the boys gave me a wolf whistle.  I blushed and felt strangely confused, but also quite pleased.
In fact from that point my confidence increased no end to the point when one Saturday afternoon Gemma accused me of flirting with one of the male shop assistants.  I remember being conscious of how good looking he was – which in itself was unusual because I had never up to that point noticed men or whether they were good looking or not.  According to Gemma I was making eyes at him and fluttering my eyelids and generally pouting.  All I remember is imagining how it would feel if he kissed me.
It was about a month after that that Darryl came into my life.  It seemed that Gemma had begun ordering a load of stuff online for delivery while she was out at work.  I wasn’t quite sure what the things were, but it was Darryl who would deliver the boxes.  It seemed every other day he would turn up at the door with a parcel, and we got chatting and once or twice I invited him in for coffee.  He was big, black, muscular and very good looking, and he was easy to talk to.  My daydreams seemed to now revolve around Darryl; me in Darryl’s arms, Darryl caressing me and kissing me, my hands around Darryl’s cock.  I often woke up with soaking wet panties.
It was really all a mistake when it happened.  I was just seeing Darryl to the door when I tripped and he caught me.  I ended up in his arms, and as I looked up at him, he kissed me.  Not just a peck but an honest to goodness full blooded kiss.  And I kissed him back and for a moment everything in the world was just fantastic.  It was as if fireworks had gone off, and I snuggled further into his arms.  Gently, as if I weighed nothing at all, he picked me up and carried me into my bedroom.  His hands roamed over me, reaching inside my panties.  I wanted him and he wanted me, and I undid his belt and opened the top of his trousers. My dreams hadn’t disappointed me because he was huge.  As he kissed me, he gently moved his cock into position next to my sissy clit …..”please, please be gentle with me….”, and he ever so gently pushed his cock into my sissy clit, moving aside my panties with his hand.  It was as if he was splitting me in two, filling me up, and was excruciatingly painful at first.  But after that it felt like nothing else on earth other than a bolt of electricity going straight through me.  My eyes opened wide and I smiled at Darryl as he gently began moving backwards and forwards at a slow rhythm.  “Please Darryl….more…..go faster please....” I could hear myself saying, and he quickened his pace.  In one moment we both came, as he spurted his load inside me and over my panties as he withdrew, but I was away and lost in another world.
After that Darryl made even more visits whether there was anything to deliver or not.  Our afternoons of love making were marvellous and spectacular, and even Gemma when she came home accused me of having a “glow” about me.   There were no more tears now, I seemed to glide round the house in a trance, happy and yet desperate to see Darryl again.
It was somewhat of a surprise when one evening Gemma came through the door with Darryl.  For a moment I thought my world was going to collapse once again; somehow she had found out about Darryl.  But Gemma explained.  “This is my friend Darryl who I asked to come to the house.  I hope you have enjoyed your afternoons with Darryl”.  I stood open mouthed.  Gemma had known about this all along; in fact she had set it up.  I stood with my mouth open, not knowing what to say.  Gemma came and held me close, as she used to do in the early days, and spoke soothingly.  “Its OK my Little One, I was only doing this for you.  I thought you needed a little company.  Was I wrong?”   She wasn’t wrong; I loved the way Darryl held me, and caressed my breasts, the way he gently kissed me, but most of all the way he fucked me and made me his woman.  I looked up and smiled and shook my head.  ”Good”, said Gemma turning me round and gently patting me on the bottom.  “Now you and Darryl run along and play”. 
It was after that evening, and when Darryl moved in with us, that everything fell into place. I realised that Gemma had been right and I was more happy and complete than I had ever been.  How could this compare with the life I had before?  I had a wife to look after, and now Darryl to love, to hold, and to play with in every way imaginable.  And even if I had to share Darryl with Gemma occasionally that was alright too.  It was quite a sight Gemma and I, like a couple of sisters, giving Darryl’s cock our full attention.

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