The Things we do for Love - Part 2

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Jo could always wrap me around her little finger. I suppose that is part of what loving your partner the way I do is. So, despite my protestations, I was soon ushered upstairs in our spare bedroom and trying on the underwear, stockings dress and shoes.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” asked Jo hold up the two-flesh coloured ‘things’ that were the false breasts in her hands.

“Do I have to?”

“If you do then I’ll get changed into something nice just for you.”

Reluctantly, I slid them inside the bra that I was wearing. I kept looking down at the two mounds that had appeared on my chest.

Jo gave me a long hard kiss which didn’t help the swelling between my legs one little bit.

“Stay right where you are. I’m going to give you a little present.”

She disappeared into our bedroom shutting the door behind her.

A few minutes later she emerged dressed in a very short version of her work uniform plus some very high heels. Her stocking tops were clearly visible and she was obviously wearing a lot of padding inside her bra. Her brunette locks were hidden under a black ‘bob’ style wig.

“Well, how do I look?”

Before I could answer she turned around and bent over. It was obvious that she was not wearing any knickers.

“Darling, can we talk about this?”

As my darling wife stood up, I could tell that I’d said the wrong thing.

“What’s the matter Darling?” asked Jo as she wrapped her arms around me.

“So I do this. Then what? Wearing makeup, getting boobs and everything?”

“Yes.”

I did a double take.

“Did you just say yes?”

“Yes I did. I love you dearly and don’t want to lose you. I just wanted to spice things up a bit.”
I sighed.

“How about a new year resolution to wear this for January and we’ll see how you feel then.”

“I’m not going out in this and for that there is no discussion,” I replied sternly.

Jo gave me a look that said, ‘really? We’ll see about that’.

Thanks, or maybe not to Jo’s patience and cajoling, wearing the uniform about the house had become almost second nature after a week or so. Jo had patiently schooled me on doing my makeup and hair. The bit about it that I didn’t like was having to go out to the woodshed in the cold. A Skirt that ended about 8in above the knee was not ideal. The wind reached parts of me that other things never did.

I remained resolute about not going out in the uniform. As far as I was concerned, that was just not negotiable.

Jo came home from work every day and put on her far more risqué version of the uniform. This made me feel a lot better. She even fetched the wood for the log burner from the shed at the bottom of the garden a few times just to play her part.

I wasn’t expecting the delivery that happened on the 21st. I’d answered the door without thinking of the possible consequences but the driver was far too rushed to be bothered about a ‘man in a dress’.

I phoned Jo who seemed overjoyed with the fact that I’d accepted the delivery.

“Open the package. The contents are for you my darling,” she said in a voice that I was getting to know very well.

I waited for around half an hour before opening the package. I sort of knew what the box contained even before I removed the outer packaging. When I actually saw the contents, I was pleasantly surprised.

The box contained a pair of ankle boots with only a 2in heel. I’d gotten used to wearing 3 or 4in heels all day. I wondered why Jo had bought them for me. The it hit me smack bang in the face.

She wanted me to go out dressed. These boots were more for wearing with trousers or leggings. Jo had worn a pair not that dissimilar these for ages with tight jeans leggings.

Deep down, I knew then that my life was not going to be the same again. The question I had to answer was, did I mind it? Did I mind playing the role of a woman or at least trying to. I had huge doubts about my ability to pass in public. Going outside our house was not a problem because we had no close neighbours but going into Stow, Evesham or heaven forbid, Oxford, Stratford or Birmingham was not something I wanted to put to the test. The words ‘never in a million years’ passed through my mind on a regular basis.

Jo revelled in being the sole wage earner in the household. Not that we needed the money but for the first time since we got married, she had a defined schedule every day. I was the reverse. I had to make things fill the day.

One day at the end of the month, I’d done all the jobs and our evening meal was cooking slowly in the Aga, I found myself watching daytime TV. I lasted less than an hour before I came to my senses and searched for something else to do.

I couldn’t find anything worthwhile.

“Sod it,” I thought to myself as I grabbed those boots, a coat and my car keys and left the house.

Before I knew it, I was in Stow. I parked in a quiet side street that was for ‘residents only’. I had the requisite permit on the car so I was in the clear. I headed off towards the main street only to stop myself after a hundred yards.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do this but I was sure that I was walking like a man. I reduced my stride and carried on. I hoped that because we really didn’t know many people in the town that I’d escape detection.

That belief held true until I passed a coach that was dropping off its load of passengers. The sound of familiar accents pricked up my ears no end.

My heart did a double take when I saw one couple step down from the coach. It was Peggy-Sue and Bobby Parks. Both of these had been in my employ not that long before. I was sure that they’d recognise me bit to my eternal thanks they just walked past me and into one of the many Café’s and Tea Rooms that were all over the town centre.

I debated following them but a lack of money said that it would be a bad idea. But, with a smile on my face I went back to my car and drove home.

Over dinner, I said to Jo,

“Guess who I ran into today in Stow? Well not ran into but passed like ships in the night.”

“What? You went out? You went into Stow?”

“Yes I did. Scared the pants off me I can tell you.”

“How did it feel? To be out in the big bad world?”

“Strange but after a while I sort of got used to it. But it was only for a short time and I didn’t have any money with me so it was a brief visit.”

Joe came around to my side of the table and sat on my lap. Since, I’d been dressing, I’d seen a very different side to her. Far more daring in bed and in what she wore or didn’t wear at other times.

Most days, she didn’t wear any knickers and even more rarely, bra’s. Before she’d even been wary of exposing her breasts to me in the privacy of our bedroom.

“Now that we are more comfortable, just who do you see in town?”

“Peggy-Sue and Bobby Parks. They were getting off a tourist bus. A rest stop on their way from Oxford to Stratford probably.”

Jo grinned back at me.

“And they didn’t recognise you?”

“Jo, in a dress and wearing makeup I very much think my mother if she was still alive would have problems recognising me but there is still a risk. I felt very much on the edge all the time.”

“I’ll take it as a yes, they didn’t recognise you then?”

“They walked right past me. I think that they were more concerned with getting out of the chill wind and into the warmth of the Tea-Rooms.”

“I wish I could have been there with a camera,” said Jo with more than a smirk to her voice.

“No way, never.”

“I’m only teasing darling.”

“Yeah, right and tomorrow is our wedding day.”

The 31st January arrived and with it a big package.

“I know that I’m not going to like what’s inside that,” I said to Jo as she put it on the kitchen table.

“You have done so well, why don’t we carry on? I like living with the female you.”

“Is that all you like or it is the much kinkier sex we have been having?”

Jo blushed.

“Both, but you have come such a long way my darling. It would be a shame to go back to your old idle ways, now would it?”

I knew that she was right. I was getting to like playing the part of a woman even if it was just for her but there was a limit to everything. Jo was a past master at pushing the limits.

“Ok, so what bad news is in the package?”

Jo grinned.

“If you are going to go out then at the very least you need a proper coat, a handbag and a few other essentials.”

I sighed. She’d got me right where she wanted me.

“Why are you doing this? This has gone beyond a bit of fun, way beyond.”

Jo say back, crossed her arms and after smiling at me she said,

“So, you go find something to do that will make you enthusiastic again. Like you were when you built up the company from just you, Jake and Brad to one that employed several hundred people. After that we both know it became a bit of a chore but in the beginning, it was hard work but you had lots of fun.”

Jo, as ever was 100% right. Those were good days.

“But Jo, suppose that was a one off? I’m not sure that I have the appetite to go through all that again.”

“It does not have to be the same. Just something that will make you want to get out of bed in the morning and want to go to work. I’m just fed up with you doing SFA. I was too that’s why I took this job. The pay is crap but at least I’m doing something. Neither of us have to work again but to be honest, both of us are really shit poor at doing nothing.”

She was right, as usual.

“Take Henry Weston for example?”

Henry was a regular at the Prince of Wales, our local pub.

“Henry is old money. It is bred into him that he does not have to work. His father is just outside the richest 500 people in the country but what does he do five days a week?”

Jo didn’t wait for me to answer,
“He volunteers to drive pensioners to hospital and other places. He pays for everything out of his own pocket including the vehicle. No one down the pub gives a hoot about his money or his title. He’s a good guy because he cares about something that others appreciate.”

“Don’t forget that his family employ a lot of the locals,” I said trying to counter her argument.

“He doesn’t. As the youngest son, he’s very much allowed to do his own thing. He could have taken off with his wife Sandra and lived the life of riley somewhere exotic but come rain, come shine he’s there helping people out. That is one thing that I love about this country. There are a lot of really nice people who just get on with life and really don’t care what school you have or have not been too.”

Then she came back for more.

“Look how hard it was for us to be admitted into the country club. It took a special meeting of all members to get an invite even if you had put a good some on money into the election of the new DA. Just because I came from very much the wrong side of town then we were not considered worthy. They are a real bunch of snobs. I’m not saying that there are not people like that here but remember that we lived in a small town in the Mid-west, where who is a member of the Country Club and who isn’t divides the ‘Haves and Have nots’. Henry is just a down to earth guy and no one even tries to take advantage of him despite him having loads of money. Until we can be comfortable with our money and just learn to live a normal life again we are going to be somewhat rudderless. The money you got for all your hard work should not be an anchor on us doing things. In fact, it should not even be up there in our thoughts when making decisions.”

I was stunned by her outburst.

“You have been giving this a lot of thought, haven’t you?” I said for the not the first time.

“Yes, my darling I have. I don’t want to lose you to an early grave. How many times do you hear of people who work hard and drop dead within six months of retiring? Far too many if you ask me. Take Ben Pierce. He lasted three months. It didn’t seem more than five minutes from the us attending his retirement party to standing at his grave.”

“So, all of this is a game to make me think of something else to do?”

Jo hesitated before replying.

“It was at first but I kinda like seeing you like that. You are getting very good at being a woman.”

“So, you say.”
Then I added,
“As soon as I open my mouth and the game it up or hadn’t you thought of that?”

“Yes. Well yes, it is a problem but first things first eh?”

Then she pushed the package over to me.

“We can’t have you dressed as a maid all the time, now can we? And you need some other outfits for our weekend away.”

I knew that I was going to lose whatever arguments I put forward. Jo was enjoying her role as head of the household. Deep down, I didn’t begrudge her simply because that she’d done so much to help me when I was building up my business. It was time for her to spread her wings. I just wished that it didn’t involve me looking like an idiot or a ‘man in drag’.

Then the right word came to mind. I’d heard it used in the Pub more than once.

Yes, I really didn’t want to look like a ‘Plonker’ but I knew that it would not be long before Jo did something that would make me go,

“You have gotta be joking.”

The odd thing was that I was starting to look forward to her surprises.

[Continued in Part 3]

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Comments

Jo is accomplishing her goals

But I also wonder if there isn't a different agenda going on. It occurred to me that I don't know the main characters name. I kinda doubt he will ever think of himself as she.Still it is definatey something different. It says a lot about Britain thatOur man is probably safe from physical abuse even if he is scanned, Wish I could say that about where I live (Texas)

Transitioning in the UK

Monique S's picture

Well, in a way you can say that today nobody really gives a hoot, if you dress as a woman in public, as long as you make an effort to pass. Certain things are very easy, for example all you have to do is make a "deed poll" and soon after you can change your name for female and have a female title in your driving licnece, for example. That then gives you access to indetification in a bank and therefore a bank account, credit card, the lot, all in your feminine name, no matter what your birth certificate says.

So yes, being transgender is a lot easier, unless you go to unsavoury suburbs in mainly employment less areas. I had no problems whatsoever in Devon, Somerset and Cornwall, but even on my walks in Cumberland, the Pennines and Yorkshire, Suffolk, Norfolk and South Wales I never heard anything bad behind my back, even though on the telephone I was always called sir. But face to face it was always Miss or Missis or later Ms. the unmarried woman older than thirty.

Monique S

Read this one first and then went back!

Hi Samantha,

Nice story and love the tour you provide with the story. Also like some of the British shows you mention that we got on BBC channel. I am looking forward to where the wife is taking this new fem in her life. I do see it as a love story and one where a lot of us were wishing it was our lives. So, keep us going soon.

Always a fan,

Santacruzman

giggles.

"The odd thing was that I was starting to look forward to her surprises."

he's in an interesting place. He's clearly not turned on by dressing up, nor has it unlocked a woman inside him (or at least not yet), assuming he can get to a point where he's going out on a regular basis though, how much further will he go?

DogSig.png

A very astute comment

The story is however not meant as a commentary on feminisation but a light hearted about two people finding both a new place in society and new meaning to their life together as well as rekindling their love for each other.
That is not to say that there is not a few bits of fairly odd behaviour to come but I hope that the love between them shines through.
Samantha

Another excellent chapter

Jo is only trying to get her husband motivated and stopping him
becoming a couch potato.

Me wonders if Jo is getting him to dress as a male maid to give him a possible new business adventure "male maid cleaning services", although he is going to need a large push in that direction.

next chapter please

Love and hugs
Sam

SamanthaAnn

out of work

Monique S's picture

Not doing anything after retirement definitely is a killer. Your motivation and health go down the drain fast. The one thing that I find a bit improbable is, that a man with such a drive would let himself go so much, just because he'd been bought out.
I have been in a similar place, and strangely enough that actually triggered my coming out, but I never ever lost my drive as a man or then as a woman, but may be I am just the exception that proves the rule. I am not even contemplating retiring. Not work as hard as with thirty of forty any more, yes, but as long as I can, I like to do my work.

Monique S

A man with such drive

May well have been suffering from Burn Out or even a mild form of PTSD. I knew someone (Sadly no longer with us) who fought tooth and nail to keep his business alive. But when the multi-nationals (Burger and Chicken outlets (I refuse to call them restaurants)) move in and are able to offer free parking and all the rest just a 100yds up the road, what can you do eh?
It broke him physically and mentally. It took him nearly 5 years before he came out of his malaise only for the 'big C' to take him a couple of years ago.

The ironic thing is that both of those outlets are now closed and bigger, brasher ones (and more avoidable) have opened on the other side of the town. The one Cafe that survived (mainly due to their breakfast trade and the homemade Black Pudding) is doing very well.

I suffered from some mild burn out a few times in my work life. I got over it but in others I saw it lead to depression and the rest. We are all different in how we handle traumatic events in our lives.
Samantha

Losing after a hard fight

Yes, when you lose what you love after a protracted fight, the stress of the fight will catch up to you and do a real big number on your psyche. I am just now slowly starting to recover from losing an eight-year war for the "custody" of my daughters to my ex. Even though the letter of the law was most definitely on my side, three years ago I finally lost due to corrupt judges after she kidnapped my youngest daughter. With the only recourse being the Supreme Court, I finally felt permission to stop fighting, since I perceived fighting for the care, education and well-being of my daughters to be a direct divine mandate. For the last three years I have just basically survived, having almost no motivation to do anything productive. Though with regular counseling, I am slowly starting to recover and taking care of myself. And I am trying to again find a reason that motivates me to continue.

So yes, traumatic events in work life will affect family/personal life. And traumatic events in family and/or personal life will affect work life. And yes, different people have different coping mechanisms/strategies.

Jessica

So tell me

Just where is the line drawn between loving "coercion" and forced fem? It is getting hard to find in this tale. It seems as if she has an agenda quite aside from motivating her husband not to be a couch potato.


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin