Paramour

By

Pamela

(pamelapamela@hotmail.com)

“Hello Angie, today I’m looking for a new bra,” Madame Debra von Blendenmeyer said. Her full name was Debra Elizabeth Hawthorne Matilda von Blendenmeyer. Widowed a few years ago and now forty years old she was worth billions. She was the sole heir to the vast fortune her father’s family had made in railroads. Ms. von Blendenmeyer spent the summer at her ocean facing mansion on Cape Cod. She made a point of shopping at Angie’s Bra and Girdle shop at least once each summer.

Deferentially Angie said, “Of course, Madame Blendenmeyer. I have just the perfect bra for you. I put it aside in case you might come by.” That was the superpower of Angie’s shop. She had a knack for carrying the prettiest, most feminine bras, panties, girdles made anywhere in the world. Madame von Blendenmeyer’s sole weakness was beautiful lingerie. She adored it and hated wearing anything that wasn’t extraordinarily pretty.

Madame smiled but didn’t thank Angie. She expected to be fawned over wherever she went and her demeanor broadcast a warning to anyone who dared to be insufficiently obsequious. While Angie scurried away to get the bra Angie idly read the label on a box on the counter that was addressed for shipment. At the end of every summer when the wealthy clientele were leaving for the season, Angie reduced the prices in a fire sale that attracted lingerie addicts from around the country. A chance to buy the crème de la crème of sexy women’s underwear at affordable prices.

To Madame von Blendenmeyer’s surprise the package was to be sent to a Blake Melnik living at 810 Sassafras Street in her neighborhood. She lived in a mansion at 700 Sassafras Street a block away from Melnik. The modern housing development in which he lived was near to her estate and built on farmland that had been rezoned to be residential. A lawsuit was unsuccessful in stopping it and now Madame von Blendenmeyer and the other nearby estate owners had to accept an invasion of neighbors from a lower economic echelon.

“This fellow, Blake Melnik, lives a block away from me at home. What is he buying?” Madame asked Angie when she returned.

“Small world,” Angie said. “He’s been a loyal customer for many years taking advantage of the end of season sale. He buys bras, panties, girdles and especially stockings. His taste runs close to yours. Oftentimes the two of you have bought the same bra and girdle.”

“He’s not buying for his wife?”

“The sizing – his bras are 38DD – and his girdle size and stocking size all speak to me of a man more than a woman. If I had to bet on it I’d say he’s a crossdresser.”

Madame von Blendenmeyer thought for a few moments and said, “Angie, I’ll be heading back home tomorrow. I’ll hand-deliver the backage to Mr. Melnik. How’s that?”

Madame knew that Angie would do her bidding and sure enough she said, “Fine, Madame. That will save me postage.”

“You have his phone number?”

“Yes.” She gave it to Madame.

***

The evening after she returned home Madame von Blendenmeyer had her butler, Michael, call Blake Melnik’s number. His wife Cynthia answered.

“Hello?”

“This is the butler of Madame von Blendenmeyer …”

“Oh, yes, who lives in the big house!”

“Yes. Is your husband Blake home?”

“Yes.”

“I need to talk to him.”

“Why?”

“It’s about a package. Can you fetch him?”

“Oh, sure.”

A few seconds later Blake was on the line.

“Hello?”

“Blake Melnik?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Michael, Madame von Blendenmeyer’s butler. The postman delivered a package for you to her house. She wants you to come by now and pick it up.”

“A package?”

“It’s from Angie’s Bra and Girdle on Cape Cod.”

“Oh, I see. Yes, I’ll be over soon.”

“Don’t dawdle.” Michael hung up.

“I have to go to Madame von Blendenmeyer’s house,” Blake said to Cynthia.

“Why’s that?”

“A package came for me by accident to her place.”

“Are you expecting a package?”

“No,” Blake lied.

“That’s weird,” Cynthia said.

“No doubt. I’ll find out what it is.”

***

When Blake arrived at Madame’s house, Michael let him into the parlor to wait for Madame. After five minutes she came in holding a box. She scrutinized Blake and decided he was a rather attractive man in his mid-thirties – if a bit leaning toward the effeminate side of masculinity. Long hair, slight of build, delicate fingers.

“Hi Madame von Blendenmeyer,” Blake said, nervously. He was surprised at how womanly and feminine Madame von Blendenmeyer was. She was wearing a sophisticated blue dress with a short skirt and a plunging neckline that allowed for a slight peek at her lacy light blue bra. Her heels were a sexy addition to her gorgeous stockinged legs. She had on pink lipstick and her face was made up. Emanating from her was the slight scent of an exquisite perfume.

“Open the box,” Madame said.

“Do I have to?” Blake said, with a slight sound of desperation and pleading in his voice. “It’s just some things I bought …” He stopped when confronted with Madame’s impatient look.

“I know what’s in it. I want to see what particular bra and girdle you bought.”

“Usually I get an email that a package is coming.”

“Open it,” Madame said, now standing tall and frowning at Blake.

“Sure, okay. The thing is my wife …” Blake said as he opened the package, “she likes me to order her lingerie.” Within tissue paper, Blake pulled out a very pretty pink bra with tiny blue flowers on it in delicate lace, a matching panty, and a magnificent matching girdle.

Madame was surprised to see that she was, at that very moment, wearing the same bra, panty, and girdle. A minute later the servant who had answered the door walked into the parlor and up to Madame von Blendenmeyer. He stared with some amusement at Blake holding his lingerie. “Madame, the call you were expecting …”

“Yes, Michael. I’ll take it. Blake, wait here for me, I shan’t be long.”

Madame followed Michael to another room to take her call. Blake debated if he should run from the house, but Madame von Blendenmeyer knew where he lived. If she had more business with him he had better wait around to see what it was. On top of everything else, he had no idea what to say to Cynthia when he arrived home with a box containing lingerie. It was a bit too early to be a Christmas present. Normally, he’d arrange the pickup of his parcels so she or his three daughters would be none the wiser that he was buying lingerie.

A few minutes later Madame returned closing the door behind herself. “We will not be further disturbed.”

“Yes, Madame.”

“Explain why you’ve bought a bra, panty, and girdle.”

Blake stared at Madame. “Why?”

“Yes, why?”

“For my wife, as I said, what else do you think?”

“If we go to visit your wife now, she’ll agree that the bra, panty, and girdle size are her own?”

Blake looked at Madame with horror. “I’m sorry. I lied. The lingerie is for me.”

“What do you do with it?” Madame asked.

“I wear it.”

“I’m going to leave for a few minutes. When I come back I want to see you wearing what you’ve bought.”

“Oh, my God, how can I wear this in front of you?”

Madame von Blendenmeyer gave Blake a withering look and left the room. Blake stared after her terrified at where this was going. What was she planning? She had him over a barrel. The thought of the havoc she could wield on his happy married life and the close, affectionate family that he loved so much had him shaking with fear. There might come a point where he’d have to stand up to Madame, but before that happened he’d better find out what she had in store for him. Reluctantly, Blake took off his clothes and put on the panties, then the bra, and finally the girdle and waited for Madame to return.

After a few minutes Madame returned with Michael. He was carrying a tray with a pot of tea and some pastries that he set on a table in the corner of the room. Blake stared helplessly at Michael as the butler eyeballed him. Under Michael’s gaze Blake felt his manhood dissolving – wearing lingerie and projecting masculinity wasn’t possible. He had no choice except to surrender his male persona to Michael. Deep inside himself he felt a stirring of what? Happiness? Contentment. A feeling that this was what he always wanted.

Michael left and Madame instructed Blake to have a seat at the table. She joined him and poured tea for the both of them. It was odd sitting there in his lingerie while Madame was fully dressed – it put her control over him on full display.

Madame von Blendenmeyer stared at Blake with unblinking eyes. Blake had never felt so vulnerable and exposed. After a minute Madame asked, “What’s your cup size?”

“DD,” Blake said.

Madame pulled on a cord hanging next to the wall and a minute later a maid entered the room. She was dressed in a uniform consisting of a black jumper with a wide skirt over a white blouse. Blake saw her give him an amused glance as she came up to Madame and curtsied. “Sybil,” Madame said, “bring the DD breast forms from the lingerie closet, as well as stockings. Also a size seven padded panty.”

“Yes, madam,” Sybil said, and curtsied again.

Blake sat awkwardly with Madame while they waited for Sybil. Madame von Blendenmeyer had a regal quality. The perfection of her dress, her full bust, curvaceous hips down to her stockinged legs and heels spoke of womanly power and authority. Blake felt shivers in his spine from anxiety as to what Madame would do next. Blake’s inept attempt at femininity formed by wearing ladies underwear seemed pitiable next to Madame. He wanted the floor to swallow him up.

Finally, Sybil came back and Madame ordered Blake to stand up. She directed Sybil to put the breast forms in Blake’s bra. When she was done, Madame said to Blake, “Replace your panties with these padded ones.” While she and Sybil turned away Blake took off his girdle and panties and put on the padded panties. They were similar to his new panties in so far as having a pretty design, but they also had twin large inserts that gave him a noticeably feminine shape around his hips and rear end.

“It’s on,” Blake said.

Madame and Sybil turned around to face him. “Now, your girdle,” Madame said. When it was on over his padded butt, Sybil helped him attach the stockings to his garters. When she was done she curtsied and left the room.

“I wish you would tell me why you’re having me dress up,” Blake said.

“Now let me get a good look,” Madame said as if she hadn’t heard him. “Twirl.”

Blake slowly rotated so Madame could see him from every angle. Now with his prominent bust and his sense of how shapely his body was Blake felt like a young girl that Madame was grooming for some unknown purpose.

“Every time you come here, you’ll wear your own pretty bra and girdle and I’ll have these panties and breast forms waiting for you.”

“Every time I …”

“As long as you obey me, your family will not learn about your crossdressing. If you don’t obey me, they will.”

“You’re blackmailing me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Madame laughed for the first time.

Blake couldn’t see how he had any other option than agreeing to Madame’s conditions. At least it would keep his secret and besides that he’d get to wear his pretty clothes. Maybe this was a win-win. “How often do you want me to be here?”

“You’re an architect of some sort?” Madame asked.

“Yeah, mainly interior design.”

“You’ll tell your wife that you’re working on a project for me. Initially tell her that I’ve asked you to submit designs – in this visit we began a discussion after you told me that you are a designer. Later we’ll say you’ve got the commission. As for tonight, Michael will give you a box of shortbread cookies and you’ll tell your wife that you won them as one of many third-place winners in a contest you had forgotten that you had entered.”

“Wow, okay, I guess this will work.”

“I want you back here on Thursday night at eight. In the interim shave your legs, chest, genitals, and underarms. Michael will show you the way out.”

“But how do I explain to my wife …”

“You’ll figure something out, if she even notices.”

With that, Madame von Blendenmeyer left the room. A minute later Michael entered while Blake was changing back into his clothes. He watched Blake without showing emotion. When Blake was dressed, Michael handed him a large carton containing boxes of shortbread cookies.

***

Cynthia seemed to buy Blake’s story about the cookies. “Madame von Blendenmeyer was friendly and made an effort to get to know me,” Blake said. “She was quite interested in finding out that I’m an architect and she took me around to discuss a project of hers. Changing some walls and redoing bathrooms and the kitchen. I’m supposed to come up with some ideas and meet with her on Thursday.”

“That’s so interesting,” Cynthia said. “She’s got such a reputation for disparaging the people who live in our development. Perhaps she’s had a change of heart.”

“Yeah, I hope so.”

***

Thursday evening Blake showed up at Madame’s house. He carried his attaché case in which he had placed his bra and girdle. Michael ushered him upstairs into Madame’s palatial bedroom. He saw that the bedspread had been pulled down as if the bed were waiting for him. He wasn’t in the room for a minute when Sybil entered.

“Please get undressed,” Sybil said.

Blake took his clothes off. This time Sybil didn’t look away. When he was done she walked up to him. “I have to inspect your body hair,” she said. “Your chest is okay.” Sybil bent over and looked carefully around his penis and then his legs. “A couple of spots near your knees could use some more work. Raise your arms.” She inspected his pits and said, “Excellent. Now you should get dressed. Did you bring your bra and girdle?”

“Yes, they’re in my attaché case.”

“Here’s your padded panties, stockings, and breast forms.”

Blake put on the padded panty, then his bra, breast forms, girdle, and finally stockings. When he was done, Sybil retrieved a dress from a closet and said, “You’re to wear this dress.” It was a beautiful pink ballroom gown.

“Wow,” Blake said. “She wants me to wear that? Why?”

Sybil smiled at Blake. “Madame is bringing out the pretty girl inside you.”

“She said that?”

“You can see by the costume she’s selected for you. The prettiest of underwear, a fluffy pink dress, and I’ll be doing your hair, and makeup. She sees the girl in you. Young girls like you are her favorites. She’s going to explore every facet of your femininity. Bring it out of you, whether or not you like it, I might add.”

“Thanks for warning me.”

Sybil laughed. “There’s nothing you can do about it. You’ll be the way Madame wants you to be for as long as she wants it.”

“I don’t see how …”

“She’ll bend you to her will. Your feminine instincts will have you bowing to her every command.”

“But I’m also basically a man.”

Sybil laughed. “No you’re not. In this house you’re a girl. You’re a pretty girl that Madame has found and is going to use for her amusement. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Will she eventually tire of me?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Let me finish dressing you. First you should step into these petticoats.” She brought out a number of pink petticoats and had Blake step into them and pulled them up to his waist. Then she lowered the gown over him and adjusted it. She found a pair of pink heels and had him put them on. The feeling of his feet confined by the shoes was the final straw that caused him to lose sight of who he was. He felt adrift now – no longer a man named Blake who liked to crossdress. Rather, Blake was a woman of some sort or perhaps a young girl defined by the clothes he was wearing and the knowledge that he was truly helpless to affect anything that was to come this evening.

Blake’s mind was caught between his extreme pleasure and excitement in being able to dress the way he had fantasized about since he was thirteen – a beautiful pink gown with layers and layers of swishy petticoats puffing out the skirt – and his abject fear of whatever Madame von Blendenmeyer’s designs might be on him and ultimately his family.

Sybil led Blake to sit in front of a mirror and applied makeup to his face and combed his hair to more resemble a woman’s look.

When she was done she told Blake to wait. In short order Madame would be joining him.

Blake felt helpless. He loved being as pretty as Sybil had made him, and he liked the idea of being a pretty girl, but he also had a whole other life as Cynthia’s husband and father to his girls. How was being a girl for Madame von Blendenmeyer going to affect him outside of this house?

Unlike the last time he had seen her, Madame appeared dressed in a tailored suit with slacks. She wore a white blouse through which Blake could see the outlines of a sexy bra.

“Stand up,” Madame said and Blake arose nervously. He had no idea where this was going. The one obvious fact was that Madame was making sure that he was dressed more, much more, femininely that she was. While Madame was not exactly mannish, Blake was clearly playing the part of the girl.

Madame took Blake’s hand and led him to a spot near the bed. She took off her pants to expose the pretty panties she was wearing underneath. She stepped out of them, sat on the edge of the bed, and spread her legs wide exposing her vagina.

“I need you to warm me up,” Madame said.

“Warm you up?”

“On your knees and use your mouth and tongue to get me aroused.”

Blake couldn’t believe his ears. “You know I’m happily married.”

Madame smirked and said, “Get busy.”

Blake debated what he should do. Giving cunnilingus to Madame von Blendenmeyer was sort of cheating on Cynthia but could he be blamed for doing it since she was blackmailing him? Of course, what was worse? Crossdressing or licking on Madame’s vagina? He supposed it might be a tossup. Anyway, it wasn’t the same as intercourse.

Blake sunk to his knees. He was resigned to his fate. He might as well shut off his brain for as long as he was in Madame von Blendenmeyer’s bedroom. Obeying her seemed to be what his life was going to be like in her mansion. Hesitating was pointless. Arguing with her was useless and might make her angry – of course she ignored most of what he asked her anyway.

Blake loved sucking on Cynthia’s vagina. Unfortunately, she would only rarely let him do it. Her complaint was that she felt much more with his fingers stimulating her than she felt with his tongue. Apparently he couldn’t supply enough force with his mouth. Blake arranged his many skirts and settled down at Madame’s feet. In front of him was her vagina. It was shaved and particularly nice to look at. He felt a desire to give pleasure to Madame. It was nice feeling like a girl while making a woman feel good. Probably the more pleasure he gave Madame the less chance she’d want to tell Cynthia about his crossdressing.

Blake leaned in and began sucking on the warm and receptive pussy. He knew immediately that this was a vagina that was exceedingly responsive. With just a few licks on Madame’s clitoris he felt her organ filling with blood and getting hard. She put her hand on the back of his head and pushed his face strongly against her vagina. This was cool, he thought. She was guiding him into supplying the right amount of pressure and the exact right position to put his lips and tongue. It wasn’t long before he felt Madame’s legs and torso twitching with pleasure.

A short while later she said, “Okay, okay, Blake. Get up and lie on the bed.”

She held Blake’s hand helping him up and then directed him to lie down. Madame lifted up Blake’s skirts, layer by layer until his girdle was revealed. It was an open bottom girdle and she reached into his panty, pushed it to one side, and coaxed his penis out through a leg hole. No doubt in deference to Cynthia, Blake’s penis was far from hard. However, it was now obvious that he couldn’t hide from the fact that Madame intended to have sex with him. He would definitely be cheating on Cynthia. While it made him feel sad and guilty he also felt incapable of stopping Madame from doing with him what she wanted. It was like he was a delicate young girl in his pretty dress who was no match for the strength of a grown woman like Madame.

Madame von Blendenmeyer straddled Blake on the bed and lay on top of him. Her hand forced his penis to rub against her vagina. Blake felt a jolt of pleasure and his penis began to harden from the stimulation. He couldn’t stop himself from moaning and the next thing he knew Madame decided he was hard enough and she began thrusting herself down onto his cock. It slipped around a bit but in short order began to penetrate her hungry vagina. Once it was fully within her Madame began forcefully pounding down on him. The pleasure rapidly escalated until Blake was loudly moaning each time she pushed into him.

And then something snapped in Blake’s mind. He felt that he had become a woman who was being overwhelmed by a powerful man who was shoving his big cock into his vagina. The stiffness of his own cock now actually represented the stiffness of Madame’s penis since he was the one with the vagina. She was filling him with her cock each time she pressed her hips down on him. He felt her long hard penis go up inside himself. An overwhelming sense of femininity filled his mind as he was physically dominated by Madame. He was the one wearing the pretty bra and girdle, he was the one with the beautiful gown and stockings. He was the pretty and feminine young woman now being helplessly, thoroughly, and totally used by Madame for her pleasure.

Such thoughts caused Blake to spasm in a happiness unlike any he had ever known before. With each impalement by Madame’s penis his body clenched in rapturous pleasure. This experience and these feelings were what he had always wanted. It was the end goal of his secret desires since he had been a child.

As Madame maintained a steady rhythm of fucking him, Blake’s mind wandered to the pretty clothes he was wearing. He knew he had large breasts in his bra and Madame’s manly chest was pushing into him as she lay on him. She must love to feel his breasts against her. It was so nice that he had breasts to offer her in this way. While he reflected on these pleasures he also recognized the thrill of Madame thrusting her cock into him over and over again. It was more than wonderful that he could supply this warm home for her hard dick.

The pleasure was slowly and steadily building up in a crescendo of lust and sexual excitement. Each time Madame filled up his vagina his body quivered in pleasure and he let out a slight gasp. His loins were enflamed with pleasure. Each thought of Madame’s domination over him made him feel ever prettier, sexier, and more feminine. He was reduced to being a living, breathing, girly hole that Madame pounded into over and over again. Blake felt like his breasts were on fire with pleasure. Every part of him was aroused and sensual. He put his hands gently across Madame’s back and felt her powerful body as she took everything she wanted from him.

Blake was getting close to orgasm. He sensed that Madame was approaching the final landing pattern since he felt her penis hardening ever more stiffly in anticipation of shooting her cum into him. In his mind’s eye he felt that Madame’s cock had grown to being a solid pole that completely filled him up to his ovaries. He imagined her squirting her semen into the twin channels at the end of his vagina. He enjoyed thinking of himself being filled up with her cum. For reasons he couldn’t fathom he prayed she would get him pregnant – as if that were possible. He would love to carry Madame’s baby.

Then, just as Blake was on the edge of cumming with a monumental orgasm, Madame doubled the speed with which she fucked Blake and in a wild burst of ecstasy she let out a resounding grunt at the very moment that Blake screamed with the greatest release he had ever had. His body shook with orgasmic spasms. As they quieted down catching their breaths, Blake thought about how he had been ‘taken.’ For this hour of lovemaking he had been a girl that had supplied her body to her powerful and greedy lover.

Luckily, Thursday was not a day that Blake and Cynthia normally had sex. By Saturday he knew he’d be horny again and begin dropping clues to let Cynthia know that they should have sex. He hoped his experience with Madame wouldn’t interfere with his lovemaking with Cynthia.

When finally Madame rolled off of Blake and lay next to him she said, “I might have been too hasty in writing off the residents of the new development. You’ve got your good points. But seriously, Blake, how do you ever pass for a man? I’ve had a few girl lovers in the past and you’re more girl than they ever were.”

“I am?”

“Are you kidding? You have a pretty, gentle, delicate, and demure persona. That dress certainly looks like it was made for you. You wear it as if your body could wear nothing else.” Madame laughed, “Of course your taste in lingerie is far more feminine than that of most women.”

As much as Blake loved hearing this, it also ran directly up against his desire to maintain the status quo with his family. He was a man for them. Not an especially masculine man, but a man, nonetheless. His daughters, now ages 11 to 16 saw him as their manly dad. Cynthia liked his penis as much as Madame seemed to, though for Cynthia it was really a cock. For Madame without doubt it was a vagina.

“I’m pleased with this, Blake,” Madame von Blendenmeyer said. “We’ll make this a weekly rendezvous for now. In the future we can reconsider it.”

With that, Madame got up, dressed, told Blake that Sybil would be with him shortly, and left. When Sybil came in she helped Blake with his shoes, dress, petticoats, stockings, girdle, and padded panty. He would have liked to ask Sybil how she would classify the evening. Was this typical for Madame? Was he special? Did she have any other lovers? But what would the point be? He seemed to be Madame’s fuck toy and utterly at her mercy. That was the reality he would have to accept if for no other reason than to protect his family.

***

For the next couple of months, Blake went to Madame’s house on Thursday evenings after his dinner. She invariably had a pretty dress waiting for him. His underwear was feminine and sexy. Madame encouraged him to be womanly and he did what he could to please her. It wasn’t too hard because the moment he entered her house it was like a switch was flipped in his brain that made him feel like a girl. It was a natural result of the way his mind had been trained to associate extreme pleasure with being in the presence of Madame von Blendenmeyer.

While Blake had been arriving at Madame’s house at 8 PM, she informed him that he should start coming at 7:30. She had instructed Sybil to give Blake a half hour lesson each week on being a woman. The goal was to groom him to be fully passable as a woman in public. Following Madame’s instructions Sybil also used the time to instruct Blake on the proper way to serve tea while maintaining a feminine grace. Blake was suspicious of Madame’s motives and figured that she was grooming him to serve tea in place of Sybil.

The more Blake took his girl lessons to heart, the more pleased Madame appeared to be. She enjoyed him mincing around the bedroom with feminine gestures. As he behaved more like a natural woman, Madame seemed to act more aggressively in the dominant role. Blake had to admit that he looked forward to Thursday nights even though he was cheating on Cynthia. The sex was mind-blowing and for several hours each night he got to be the woman of his dreams.

At home, Cynthia was surprised at how long the design process seemed to be taking at Madame von Blendenmeyer’s house. When she asked Blake about it, he said that he’d never met a woman with such crazy ideas that changed over and over again. He was constantly having to revise his plans. Every new whim of hers caused him a week of work. He was getting to the point of putting his foot down and telling her she can’t make any more changes.

After that discussion, the mere mention of Madame caused Blake to get agitated. The truth was that as wonderful as his time was with Madame en femme the uncertainty in how long it could keep going was getting to him. He also knew that a point was coming when his visits to Madame would arouse real suspicion from Cynthia.

***

As Blake was leaving one of his usual Thursday visits after Madame had fucked him senseless, Michael informed Blake that Madame would need his services that Saturday afternoon. He should arrive at 1:30 to help Sybil with a tea that she was giving for some ladies. So he had been right about why Sybil was teaching him about service.

“You mean I’ll be like a waiter?”

“Hardly, Blake. You’ll be dressed in the same uniform as Sybil. The two of you will serve and then clear the tea and pastries.”

“This isn’t fair – I mean a Saturday?” Of course, dressing like Sybil in front of some ladies seemed awfully risky.

“You know Madame,” Michael said.

“Yes, yes, I know. I have no choice.”

“I’m afraid so.”

Blake was worried about telling Cynthia that he had to be at Madame von Blendenmeyer’s on Saturday but was relieved to find out that she and the girls would be out that afternoon. Thank goodness he could visit Madame without Cynthia knowing. A lucky break. On the other hand he didn’t relish the idea of being scrutinized by a roomful of women who might see through his disguise.

***

On Saturday afternoon, Sybil took charge of Blake once he arrived at Madame’s mansion. She supervised his dressing up in his bra, padded panty, girdle and stockings. Then she did his makeup and hair. Finally he put on a white blouse and black jumper identical to hers and shoes. He and Sybil stood side by side in front of a mirror. He was a few inches taller than her. Apart from having a figure that was a bit sexier than Sybil’s – his chest was larger – they made a cute pair of waitresses for Madame’s event.

“I think we look pretty together,” Sybil said. “You’re sexy, Blake. The blouse and jumper give you a nice bosomy look. The skirt is so perfect for you too.”

Blake laughed. “You’re way too kind Sybil. You’ve done a wonderful job of teaching me how to be feminine. So, I’m not as nervous today as I would have been if you hadn’t helped me. I do think that you’ve fixed me up to be passably female. I look forward to mingling among the women out there and feeling like I’m one of them. At least I’m trying to convince myself that that is true!”

“That’s a really good attitude!” Sybil said.

He and Sybil headed to the kitchen. Blake was comfortable wearing heels – mainly because of Sybil’s help. In fact, he was confident that his graceful feminine walk wouldn’t cause him problems carrying the trays of tea and pastries out to the ladies once they had assembled.

A little after 2 PM, Blake heard Madame greeting the women and making a little speech. As much as he could make out, Madame was talking about how she thought that she had neglected her neighbors for too long. She hoped to get to know them better. Blake was certain that he had played a part in changing her attitude.

Michael signaled Sybil and Blake to begin delivering the tea and pastries. One tray at a time to each of ten tables. Blake summoned up his courage and walked out of the kitchen and served the first table. Each table was made up of eight females – either women and or girls. He watched their eyes as he approached and served them. There was no overt alarm at seeing him, though he thought that maybe there was surprise on some of their faces. Luckily, he didn’t have to speak.

Blake went back to the kitchen and repeated his service for the next table and then the next table. As he came up to the fourth table to serve he was shocked to see that Cynthia and his daughters were sitting there. Panicked, he set the tea and pastries on the table and prepared to rush away when he heard his youngest daughter say, “Daddy?”

Blake froze, not knowing what to do. Should he pretend to be a stranger and deny he was her daddy?

“Why is daddy wearing a dress?” his daughter asked her mom.

His oldest daughter said, “And oh my God look at his breasts!”

“Stockings and heels!” his middle daughter said.

Cynthia said, “What the fuck, Blake?”

By this point the surrounding women and girls were avid spectators of the unfolding drama. Blake took a step as if to run back to the kitchen and Cynthia said, “Stop. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Look at Daddy’s hair,” his youngest said. “He’s wearing lipstick and make up.”

Cynthia stood and walked up to Blake. He was afraid she was going to hit him. Instead, she took hold of his skirt and raised it up revealing his girdle. “A girdle, Blake? Padded panties? A bra? Stockings, High heels?”

Blake whispered, “I’m sorry,” and began to weep.

“Daddy’s crying,” his youngest daughter announced.

Blake’s chest heaved and he bolted back to the kitchen and collapsed on the floor crying with his arms over his head. Cynthia and his daughters followed him to the kitchen. “What the fuck Blake?” Cynthia said.

“Mommy’s language!” the youngest daughter said.

“Stop crying,” Cynthia said. “Tears won’t save you.”

Madame von Blendenmeyer entered the kitchen and stood over Blake. She said to Cynthia, “I asked Blake to help Sybil in serving our guests. As you can see Blake does very well as a woman and I thought it appropriate to have him help out wearing the uniform of my female servants.”

“I don’t understand,” Cynthia said. “He’s an architect. How would you know that he does very well as a woman?”

“Blake?” Madame said.

Blake had stopped crying. His current life was over. Whatever life came after this afternoon it would be different than the one he had led up to this point. He was terrified of never being able to see his daughters again.

“You see Cynthia,” Blake mumbled, “I’ve been a crossdresser my whole life …”

“What’s a crossdresser?” his youngest daughter asked.

“It’s a boy who likes to wear our clothes,” Blake’s oldest said.

“Why do boys want to wear our clothes?” his youngest asked.

“I think they want to be girls,” his middle daughter said.

Cynthia interrupted, “Your whole life you’ve been crossdressing? Including our entire marriage!”

“I’m sorry. I kept it hidden. The thing is that Madame found out about it …”

“How in the world did that happen?”

“It’s a long story. I buy lingerie from a store in Cape Cod and that’s where Madame spends the summer. She saw a package addressed to me.”

“What was in the package?” Cynthia asked.

“A bra, panty, and girdle.”

“That’s the package that was misdelivered! I remember you said it was shortbread cookies!”

“I’m sorry I lied.”

You’ve been sneaking around behind my back for years?”

“Yes.”

“So what happened with Madame von Blendenmeyer?”

Blake turned to look at her and she said, “To keep Blake’s secret I had him visit me every Thursday evening where I dressed him up in beautiful feminine clothes and had my way with him. He’s a marvelous lover – a fine woman to have sex with.”

“Daddy’s been fucking Madame?” Blake’s oldest daughter said.

“I had no choice,” Blake protested. “I’ve felt so guilty. But she was blackmailing me!”

“You think having sex with Madame isn’t worse than wearing ladies underwear?” Cynthia practically shouted.

“I didn’t want to lose you and the girls,” Blake said. “As long as what I was doing with Madame was a secret I wasn’t in danger of losing my family. If I confessed the truth about my crossdressing then the danger would be real and guaranteed!”

“You’ve got that right,” Cynthia said. Suddenly she turned to Madame and said, “You set this up! You knew that Blake would be here to serve me and the girls. This was purposeful.”

Madame smiled.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to Madame von Blendenmeyer’s party?” Blake asked Cynthia.

“Because you said you were sick of working with her on your project and I didn’t want to risk getting you upset. I didn’t know you were lying about your visits.”

“Let’s be clear,” Madame interjected. “I’ve simply given your husband the opportunity to be the woman he wants to be.”

“Does Daddy really want to be a woman?” Blake’s middle daughter asked her mother.

“Blake. What’s the truth here?” Cynthia asked.

Blake began weeping again. He was caught between a rock and a hard place. Any attempt to give up the experience of being a woman – whether or not Madame took advantage of him – would be exceedingly painful if not impossible. At the same time he could not accept giving up being a dad to his daughters. He also loved Cynthia but was sure that there was no reality where she would accept him in dresses.

“Come with me Cynthia,” Madame said, “we need to talk.”

Madame escorted Cynthia to the parlor and shut the door behind them. “Let me cut to the chase. I want to buy Blake. I’ll pay you handsomely for my ownership of him.”

“How can you own him?”

“You’ll divorce him, and he’ll move into my house. Once he’s here I’ll own him because it will be impossible for him to disobey me. In my presence Blake has no ‘self.’ He’s whatever I tell him to be.”

“What do you mean by pay me handsomely?” Cynthia asked. She had enough common sense to see that Blake was beyond rehabilitation. He’d never ever again be the kind of husband she had been in love with when she married him. She might as well see how much she could get for him.

“I’ll pay off your mortgage and I’ll give you an endowment that pays you a comfortable income for life. Separate college funds for each of your daughters. All that you have to do is divorce Blake. My lawyers can put all this in writing.”

“You’re confident that Blake won’t object? For example, he’d never give up access to his daughters.”

“He won’t be separated from anyone, including you. He won’t be confined to the house like a prison. Of course, he’ll be a woman. No men’s clothing and I’ll be working on his appearance.”

“Part of me thinks this whole scheme of yours is fantastical,” Cynthia said.

“I can understand that this is a difficult adjustment for you. But understand that Blake will do whatever I tell him to do. He has no mind of his own when he’s with me. I am his words. I am his actions. He obeys me without thought or hesitation. It’s just the way it is. I dress him as I see fit in pretty dresses, sexy bras and girdles and he minces about as a woman. I put him on the bed and have my way with him. It’s like that now and it will always be like that.”

Cynthia didn’t need a lot of convincing. Madame von Blendenmeyer’s deal was unorthodox to say the least. But to live carefree without debt and to have her daughters’ college financed was a wonderful deal. At the end of the day, Blake, as much as she loved him, was now damaged goods. He deceived her for years by not sharing his innermost feelings with her. She might have accepted his crossdressing if he had been honest with her. She hadn’t had a chance to go down that road.

“Take your time. There’s no rush to decide.”

“No need to wait. I don’t have to think. You can have Blake. He’s yours lock, stock, and barrel. Shall I tell him or will you tell him?”

“You should tell him,” Madame said. “That will make it official.”

***

Blake changed into his men’s clothes and his family returned home from Madame’s mansion. None of them wanted to confront the depressing fact that Blake’s denouement had happened in front of the neighborhood. Undoubtedly gossip about Blake’s crossdressing would be reverberating through the community for weeks to come.

“Will you be wearing dresses again?” Blake’s youngest daughter asked him.

“Not with us,” Cynthia cut in, “but at Madame’s house.”

“I hope you kids can somehow find a way to understand me or at least forgive me,” Blake said. “It’s an adult topic but basically I am a person who was born a man but later realized that I wanted to be a girl. You children were lucky to be born girls, and, of course, Mommy was.”

“Why do you want to be a girl?” his youngest daughter asked.

“It’s hard to explain,” Blake said, “it’s like I’m already a girl, but I just happen to be born with a man’s body.”

“Daddy, I still love you,” his older daughter said. “I can accept you for who you are, though I am worried about the fact that you’ve hurt Mommy.”

“I regret that more than anything,” Blake said.

“It’s so weird,” Blake’s middle daughter said, “I’ve been begging mom to buy me my first bra, and dad’s wearing them!”

Everyone laughed. Blake kept his eyes on Cynthia and was pleased that she could also find the humor in the situation.

“Your daughters – or at least myself – want to get to know the girl side of you, am I right?” his oldest daughter said.

“Yes,” the other girls said.

“You’re not going to leave us, are you?” the middle daughter asked.

“Daddy is going to be living with Madame from now on,” Cynthia said. “It’s best that way. You can always visit him – he’s just a block away. Of course, …”

“What, Mommy?” her youngest asked.

“I was just going to emphasize that your dad will always be dressed as a woman at Madame’s house. Isn’t that true, Blake?”

“Yeah. Madame only allows me to wear dresses.”

The word ‘allows’ stuck in Cynthia and the girl’s minds. Even Blake knew that Madame controlled every facet of his life. He had no ability to stand up to her. Even now, when it was no longer blackmail, she had the upper hand because she controlled the clothes he so desperately wanted to wear, besides the opportunity to be appreciated as a woman.

***

A few weeks later Blake was waiting in the parlor of Madame von Blendenmeyer’s mansion. With him was a suitcase with his lingerie.

After some time Madame entered. “My lawyer’s handling your divorce. Any problems?”

“No. It’s fine.”

“You’ve signed the bill of sale that gives me ownership of you. Can I assume you know what’s in it?”

“I read some of it but not all.”

“Good, so I own you now. You’re my possession.”

“That’s okay, I like being owned by you. My only concern is that you might eventually not want me. Give me away or sell me to someone.”

“That’s true so you need to always be the prettiest girl you can be. There’s also a clause that says that if you’re disobedient I can revoke the benefits for Cynthia and your girls.”

“I would never disobey you.”

“I hope not for their sake.”

“I’m putting you in the little bedroom that has a secret door to the master bedroom. There’s a bell with which I can summon you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Madame.”

“Good. For all intents and purposes you’ve become my paramour.”

The word resonated in Blake’s mind. That was exactly it. He was Madame von Blendenmeyer’s paramour. A woman whose sole function in the household was to be a receptacle to Madame’s sexual desires.

“Right.”

“Concentrate on being as beautiful and feminine as you can be. I’ll be sending you to doctors who will give you breasts and hips and femininize your face. We’ll have your facial hair removed permanently. I’ll send you to a beauty salon for your hair and nails and a spa to beautify your skin. The one part of you that will be sacrosanct is your penis.”

“I understand.”

“Now Sybil will show you to your bedroom. There’s a lovely dress lying on the bed waiting for you to put on.”

The End