A year ago I was an average husband with a good looking and understanding wife. Now I am the good looking, understanding wife and my wife is technically my husband. Don't misunderstand me, she is still a woman as I'm still a male, well actually a she-male would be a more accurate description and neither of us would change that for anything. As Sharon likes to say I'm her chick with a dick! I've come to adore my role as her submissive, obedient, loving housewife as well as being her 'trophy' girl. Sharon enjoys showing me off in some extremely naughty and saucy outfits when she takes me out and this took some getting used to but now I find myself rather enjoying it too. It took some adjustment on my part to accept the fact that, as her wife, it is my duty to dress in ways that please her without thought or concern for my own occasional feelings of embarrassment. However I've learned to accept the fact that I must never look anything less than the epitome of sexiness and femininity to please Sharon. It's been difficult at times, especially when it came to being the submissive partner in our relationship, but I have learned to love my role in our lives.
My new status in life was brought about by several factors. I am rather small for a man standing only 5'5" and weighing a mere 110 lbs. I'm small boned and have fingers that women have always envied as well as the ability to grow long, pretty nails. Sharon is just the opposite standing 5'10", her weight approx 150 lbs. and having a rather large frame. Though cute in a 'big girl' way she had never felt really feminine and had preferred dressing in more masculine attire. She did wear dresses upon occasion and skirts and blouses slightly more frequently but she was happiest wearing pants and man tailored blouses or shirts. This preference carried over in most of her clothing. Panties and bras were functional not particularly sexy. She favored soft cupped bras to underwires, cotton panties over satin or nylon. Naturally she wore shoes that more closely resembled men's shoes though designed for women. They were usually flats or, if they had a heel at all, they either had the large, slightly raised heel common on men's shoes or low, block heels, none of the spike or stiletto girlie heels.
I, on the other hand, being a crossdresser, loved the feel of satins, lace and nylon. I adored getting all dolled up in slinky dresses or short mini skirts with sheer blouses and wearing high heels of at least three inches or higher. I enjoyed feeling the pull of my garters on my stockings and everything that went along with dressing and looking feminine. Where Sharon wore pantygirdles and pantyhose for work or for an evening out at a club I wore open bottom girdles, waist cinchers or garter belts and stockings with an occasional corset thrown in for fun and excitement. I found it very relaxing and fun to become my girl self though I must admit it is more work having to do so on a daily basis now.
Sharon had dealt with my being crossdresser better than most women once she had gotten past the point of believing that all cd's were basically gay. Once this hurdle was passed she did everything she could to help me pass and look my best. She confided that she too felt she was a crossdresser of sorts because of her preference for mannish attire but had been afraid to ever tell anyone for fear of being thought a lesbian. I certainly understood that! We were both normal, heterosexual people who just happened to like dressing in clothing and assuming the role of the opposite sex. Sharon had no problem making love to my girl self, Sabrina, in fact she really enjoyed it. Whereas I preferred assuming the submissive, feminine role in bed Sharon was delighted to take the dominant, masculine role. She took as much pleasure in dominating me as I did in being submissive.
This had led us to experiment with bondage and fantastic sex as our reward. Sharon loved to have me put on lacy stockings, a garter belt, breast harness and a sexy negligee with high, five inch, 'fuck me' heels along with a wig, makeup and some jewelry and then chain me to our bed. She would tease and tantalize me treating me like a woman, petting, fondling and caressing me until I was squirming in ecstasy and begging her to 'fuck me'. She particularly enjoyed watching me squirm and squeal as she sucked and bit my nipples, saying that my breasts were every bit as sensitive as a girl's and she would toy with them endlessly.
We also went out to the local alternative lifestyle (read gay/lesbian) club where I could dress fully as a woman publicly. Sometimes we both got all dolled up in our feminine pretties but more often I was the one in the dress, stockings and high heels while she wore stretchies or jeans, a pullover shirt and man styled shoes. Though there were the occasional patrons that took offense at a 'straight' couple intruding on their club, most were accepting and found it interesting that, although I crossdressed, I was straight and that Sharon wasn't even bisexual. Naturally we were not judgmental of them either believing that a person's sexual preference was their business and didn't automatically make someone a bad person. We had a good time but I also became frustrated that it was really the only place I could go en femme in our town. I dressed around the house of course but that wasn't the same as being out in public.
We usually took a week's vacation twice a year and went up to Atlanta where I was able to live full time, 24/7, as a woman. There we went out to restaurants that were gender friendly and most stores and malls seemed not to care, our money spending just as good as anyone else. Sometimes I was read and sometimes not, my voice usually being the culprit though I worked hard to develop a softer, more feminine voice. Of course Sharon had taught me to dress down or blend in too which is probably the hardest lesson for a cd to learn. Unless a cd WANTS to be read you must dress in appropriate fashion for the time of day and purpose. Going to the mall clothes shopping at one in the afternoon you don't wear five inch spike heels and minidresses, made up like you're going out on a date to a club!
While in Atlanta we'd discovered there were areas that were primarily populated by alternative lifestyle people and which were very accepting of nearly anyone as long as they were not judgmental in their attitudes towards others. Though there were areas in Atlanta, just like anywhere else, that were not receptive to alternative lifestyle people overall it was a much more tolerant city. There was one area in particular that not only had apartments for rent but houses too plus very friendly and accepting mini malls and stores. While there were straights that shopped and lived in the area also, in general, the most I'd ever gotten were some rather peculiar stares or some smirks and snickers, nothing threatening. It was certainly much more friendly than where we lived!
Through a series of unforeseen circumstances I found myself unemployed, my business going bankrupt while my wife received a job offer that required her to move to Atlanta. She was a good attorney and, unknown to me, she had sent resumes out to firms in larger cities after learning that my business was going under. It was almost too good to be true but we'd soon located a house in one of the communities where Sabrina would be accepted. Sharon told me that it was the perfect opportunity for me to realize what had only been a fantasy up till then, to live my life full time as a transgendered male. For the first time I would not only be able to live full time as a woman, 24/7, but Sharon INSISTED on it, telling me that she much preferred my feminine persona to my male one! In this way we would both have what we wanted. Sharon would have a cute housewife who would take care of all the duties normally handled by the woman of the house while she became the bread winner, a normally masculine role. At the same time I could indulge myself by 'being' the girl of my dreams and living as a woman in all respects, assuming the role of Sharon's 'wife' including all the associated responsibilities that went with being the 'woman' of the house! It sounded like a dream come true!!
There was only one catch to this dream. Once begun I would not be permitted to ever again wear masculine attire for any reason nor would I ever be allowed to assume the masculine role in our relationship. The law firm hiring her allowed for spouses or significant others (S.O.) in their benefit plans and, while same sex marriages were not recognized in Georgia, as long as I did not have sex reassignment surgery we could still remain legally married. However, if I was to live and dress full time as a woman, certain changes were required to keep me out of legal trouble such as acquiring legal identification as a woman. In effect, except in the privacy of our bedroom, I would be required to look, act, dress and conduct myself as a woman at all times, not a man. I didn't really think this would be a problem as I considered it an answer to my prayers but I had several surprises in store for me once we relocated and became settled!
Chapter Two:
I'm not exactly sure how Sharon managed to pull it off but after a lengthy visit with a psychologist and answering many questions I found myself diagnosised as being gender dysphoric. This meant I was uncomfortable and unhappy being a male and suffered anxiety and stress over this situation. With this diagnosis the way was cleared for me to live transgendered, legally. Of course there was much paperwork involved to legally allow me to live as a woman since all my identification would list my sex as feminine which could conceivably cause me problems if challenged. Because I would not be having a sex change I had to ensure I had the proper legal letters of explanation to prevent my arrest in case someone took offense at my using a public woman's restroom or if stopped by the police and read as a male. Once all these paperwork hurdles had been cleared I found myself on the way to get a new driver's license in my feminine name.
Sharon had insisted I dress quite femininely for this since this license would be mine for six years and it would be my primary means of identification in the future. I was wearing a red satin poet's blouse that had ruffled cuffs at the end of the long sleeves and which showed off my cleavage in a cute, sexy way. The 40d breasts (a surprise gift from Sharon) filled the red, lacy underwired bra out fully, my perky, plump nipples poking out rather too blatantly for my liking but Sharon had insisted I have large, protruding nipples (another surprise present). The black leather skirt ended about three inches above my knees but it had a naughty slit in front, over my left leg. The slit went half way up my thigh showing an expanse of taupe colored stocking that glistened in the sunlight but stopped just short of displaying the garter tabs that held the stocking tautly. The skirt was tight across my hips and butt and it accented the feminine sway I had mastered in a sexy way as my cute ass swished back and forth.
I was wearing red patent slingback sandals with four inch heels that matched the three inch wide, red patent belt which emphasized my nipped in waist. Over my left shoulder was the matching red patent shoulder purse. I was nervous as I heard the staccato clacking sound of my heels echoing off the pavement as I sashayed my way to the entrance, noticing several men looking at me with approval. I knew the distinctive sound of my high heels had attracted their attention and, once seeing me, they didn't rush their inspection. At that moment I wished for much smaller breasts as well as for my much less provocative stretchies and pull over top but knew I had to carry through my impersonation so I smiled charmingly at them and went inside.
I wasn't pleased that Sharon had decided I was to wear a corset nor that she had laced me down so tightly. I knew I needed to wear the corset to reduce my waist to wear the leather skirt but it hadn't been necessary to lace it to it's full six inch reduction. The firm boning certainly gave me a gorgeous shape that, when combined with my REAL breasts and realistic hip and butt padding, produced the often described hour glass figure that men loved to see. From a woman's viewpoint the curves were nice to have but the pressure and restrictiveness of the corset wasn't fun to cope with. Sharon had merely chuckled as she kept pulling the laces tighter telling me that girls had to suffer a little to look pretty and that feeling confined and restrained was all part of being a woman. "Women wear bras, girdles, waist cinchers, bustiers and all manner of undergarments to enhance their figures Sabrina and so will you. That's all part of being a girl. I told you I expected you to be 100% girl in every possible way but one and so you shall, my dear. Grin and bear it honey, it's part of femininity!" she said teasingly while giving my ass a love pat when she finished lacing me down.
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Fri Jan 17 04:48:59 2003