I am in the kitchen of Tony's cottage. The sound of my heels clicking on the stone floor is a constant reminder of their presence. Why do I have to wear high heels all the time? Although, with Tony, 6ft 3 inches, it helps me not have to look up quite so far when he holds me

I bend down to check the casserole in the oven. I feel the tug of my suspenders on the silk stockings I am wearing. The white lacy nylon petticoat crackles as it slides over the satin French knickers I am wearing. Tony insists I wear these sorts of clothes. No leggings for me. Just dresses or skirts. He says leggings and jeans on women make them look like slovenly sluts.

I have to be careful to dress down when he takes me shopping. I keep telling him most women don't wear skirts and dresses to shop.

"You're not most women." He said.

I am wearing a 1950s-style dress now. White with a rose pattern, I check the time. 6pm, he will be back soon. I hope I please him. He is a powerfully built man. He is mostly nice to me if I stay on the right side of him. I have seen him angry, and it scares me.

I hear the door close. He is here.

"I'm in the kitchen Tony." I call.

He stares at me as I wash the chopping board. I can feel his eyes are on me as I wash up. I hope he is in a good mood.

I feel him press into my body from behind. I can feel the hardness in his trousers push into me. His hot breath on my neck makes me shiver in fear and anticipation.

"I was thinking about you on my way back from the club Debby."

"Were you?

"Yes, I was looking forward to seeing you. Can't you feel that?"

He is rubbing his crotch against my backside.

I turn and look up at him.

"Tony, it's been over a year now. How long does this have to go on for. Surely you've had your fun. Haven't I been punished enough?"

I hadn't worn men's clothes in more than a year now, and hadn't worn flat shoes
in the same amount of time, only women's high heels each and every day. It
was endless makeup, varnished nails, perfume and wigs. I was dressing fully as a woman each and every day. The constant detail of doing women's work, the cooking and housework, the knitting and the sewing and being made to read women's magazines and romance novels.

Instantly, I regretted asking. He gripped my chin and squeezed it.

"Look, Missy. You're lucky you're not banged up. When I caught you trying to transfer half a million into your personal account, I could have turned you in. You know I still have the evidence. "

"I'll be good Tony, but you said I would only have to fill in for your wife for a few months. It's been so long. Could you just tell me, why do you make me do this and when you will let me go?"

"When I'm bored with you. I do it because I want to. I do it because I can. I love how humiliating it must be for you to have to live a woman's life. Mincing about on high heels. Walking around with me doing the shopping. Seeing all the other men and women, knowing you have more in common with the women. "

While we shopped in the supermarket he loved to point at couples and whisper in my ear.

"I wonder if she was on her knees with his cock in her mouth an hour a go , like you?"

Or

"Do you think she had a good seeing to before she went shopping like you got?"

He knew it made me squirm. Often he would caress my backside as he said it. Another trick was to make me buy lingerie. He would shake his head if I tried to by anything cotton or "plain". Everything had to be extra frilly and soft.

"Now, Debby. It's time to make it up to me. On your knees."

"But... Tony.. do I have to? I'm cooking dinner."

"Listen sweetheart. Who's wearing the bra and knickers here?"

"I am Tony. Because you make me."

"So who's the man here, and who's the woman?"

I knew I couldn't win. As I dropped to my knees I could hear my stockings zipping against my petticoat. The suspenders pulled tight and the silky knickers moved across my little cock. I couldn't help but sigh.

The mushroom head was pushed against my ruby red lips. I opened them and formed an "O", and he slid in. He was gentle. He knew how much I could take after a year. He didn't want me chocking and making a mess.

After a few moments of fucking my face he pulled out. I was hoping I could finish him off, but he had other ideas. He lifted me off my feet, and practically threw me onto the kitchen table.

"I hope you are prepared, because I'm just too horny to wait."

I feel my knickers being pulled down to my thighs, then he kicks my feet apart. My heels skid on the wooden floor as my arse slides down to meet his cock. I scream as shoves into me. This isn't my first rodeo, but that hurt. I breath slowly as he starts to pump in and out. His hands are under my dress, His fingers grasp my hips, controlling me. I have no say in this. He is is control. He is using my body to pleasure himself.

As his cock grazes my prostate with each pump, I can feel my cock leak fluid. I hate to admit it, but it feels so bloody good. I see our reflection in the glass in the back door. A prissy housewife, in a pretty frock getting a good "seeing too" by her husband. All sexy, frills and frothy lace, concealing the hard cock ploughing into her.

I felt so submissive as my man used me for his needs. This was real femininity. I loved it. I dare not tell him, but I loved every minute. I was trying to steal the money for a gender reassignment. This was the life I had always wanted. I may have to dress like this because he wants me too, but It is because I want it too.

As he fucks me I feel his balls slap into my buttocks as he speeds up. That sends me over the edge, I orgasm hard. My muscles clamp hard on him as I do. I feel him pulse his seed into me. My mind imagines those little things swimming around inside me trying to impregnate me.

He grins at me as he pulls out. I give him, what I hope is a sad and humiliated look.

"Put your knickers on and get on with the dinner woman."

He slaps my backside as I head for the bathroom. He doesn't see my smile. I have been embezzling money from his pension and bank accounts for the last year. Well, a wife has to plan for her life if her man decides to dump her. I love being a woman and there's no way I'm going back to my old life.