I had strange dreams and kept waking up. I was Francis running away from a beautiful blue dress. I ran away and screamed for help. No one helped. The dress caught up with me and molded itself around my body. I saw my reflection. I was a beautiful woman. Everyone smiled at me and told me that I was wearing a lovely dress. What did that strange dream mean?
I did not set my alarm, and I slept in until 10. I felt a pang of guilt. Sir would have to get his own breakfast. That was my job, His maid's job. I really had changed over the last month or so. After last night, I felt more like a woman. I know I could not really know how "real" women feel, but I thought I now had a better idea. Sir had possessed me last night. I know I was strapped to the frame and couldn't move, but I wanted to experience it anyway.
He had been in my body. He had had me. Given me a good seeing to. Popped my cherry. I giggled at the naughty thoughts. As I moved, I felt a damp patch in my knickers. That showed me that part of him was still in me.
As I showered, I thought back to all the times I ogled pretty women in the street. I had never wanted them. I wanted to be them. I wondered how that dress would feel. Wondered what they wore underneath. If their breasts felt good bouncing in the soft, lacy bra they were wearing.
Part of me was still saying, "You're a man, act like it". It was losing. I no longer felt guilty. I wasn't a man. My wife must have realised this. No, this was the best path. I would be Sarah now.
I felt so calm, almost serene. The inner conflict I had felt all my life was coming to an end. I opened the closets and drawers to explore. For the first time, I felt no guilt about all these soft, silky, beautiful clothes. I deserved to wear them. I had earned the right to be a woman.
I chose to wear a white panty corselette, stockings, and a blue house dress. I sat and did my makeup and brushed my hair. I looked like a typical housewife. I still saw a semblance of my male self, but then I knew what I looked like. I suppose I always would. I found some white court shoes and was about to go and make myself some coffee and toast, when there was a knock on the door.
"Come in, please, Sir."
He strode into the room smiling.
"You may call me Malcolm, my dear. After last night, we are more than employer and employee."
Are you sure? Sir... I mean Malcolm."
"I would like to pursue a relationship with you, Sarah, if you are agreeable?"
I was hoping for this. I knew he wanted me, but was a little concerned that now that he had "had" me, he would cast me aside. I was to be "courted". I felt a wave of desire rush over me. I would experience something only women do.
"I would love to... Malcolm. You said last night that you wanted to take me to dinner. Are you sure? Do you think I can get away with being dressed as a woman in public?"
"Oh, Sarah, my dear woman, you don't realize how beautiful you really are, do you? No one would take you for a man. When your friend and his cronies visited, you fooled them. Your skills with makeup and your mannerisms have come a long way since then. Just know you are a woman, and no one around you will doubt it."
This is how I felt. I just wanted some reassurance. He was standing with his hands behind his back as we spoke. With a flourish, he produced a single red rose and a box tied with a red ribbon.
"For you, my dear."
I took them. I felt thrilled to receive such feminine presents. Men give flowers to women they like. I had never been given flowers in my life.
"Please open your present."
I undid the ribbon and opened the box. Inside, under a layer of tissue, was something made of black silk and delicate lace. I removed it and held up an exquisite silk cami-knickers. The label said Janet Rager.
"It is a 1990's, vintage item, Sarah. I thought you would appreciate it."
My heart was beating so fast. I had seen pictures of underwear like this growing up. How I longed to know what it would be like to wear something like this. Now I was being asked by a man to wear it. Something so intimate, so very feminine.
"Oh, it is beautiful, Malcolm. Are you sure? It must have cost so much."
"You are worth every penny. I would like you to wear it at dinner tonight. Would you?"
"I would love to. What should I wear? Where are we going?"
"Just a small Italian restaurant. I know you are nervous. I understand. You have the day to yourself. I have to go out now. I will pick you up at six-thirty."
I was holding the cami-knickers up against my body, looking into the full-length mirror. He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I was drawn into his body. I felt his hardness against my buttocks. He kissed my neck, then pulled away.
"See you later, my love."
When I was alone, I thought about how things had changed. A few weeks ago, he would have had me on my knees to take care of him. Now I sensed he wanted something more intimate.
I spent the whole day trying on different clothes. I had never done this before. I think I still thought that I would be admitting that I was finished as a man. It felt incredible. I got an insight into why women love clothes shopping. Just changing which top goes with a skirt gives an outfit an entirely new look.
In the end, I settled on the black silk cami-knickers and 50's style, dark blue "housewife" flower print dress. I wore a net petticoat with it to give it volume. This gave me more of an hourglass shape. The petticoat tickled my stocking-covered legs as I walked. It threatened to make me hard. I would have to concentrate.
After several attempts at my makeup, I was happy. I stood in my shiny black court shoes and looked myself over in the mirror. Wow, I really did look like I would pass. I never would have thought this possible. I saw a woman. An attractive woman ready for a date.
I heard a knock, and Malcom came in and just stared at me.
"Is,,, is everything ok Malcolm?"
"Sorry, my dear, but you look wonderful. Any man would be happy to spend time with a beauty like you, and tonight you are all mine."
An odd sense of calm came over me. I felt validated. No one had ever said anything so nice to me. Men aren't used to compliments. I could see why women loved to be complimented.
He took my hand and led me to his Jaguar E-Type. He opened to door for me and took my handbag as I carefully got in. I swept my skirt and petticoat under me, and he shut the door.
On the way, he told me not to be nervous. I was just an attractive woman going out for a meal with her man. A quick look in the vanity mirror confirmed that for me. When we arrived, Malcolm got out and opened the door for me. I could really get used to this.
In the restaurant, the waiter asked if he could take "Madam's" coat and pulled out my seat. These were all new things I was enjoying immensely. Malcolm ordered for both of us. While waiting for dessert, he took my hand and looked into my eyes.
"Sarah, I would like to apologise for the way I have treated you. Using you for relief, using your fear of being found by those thugs to further feminize you. I just had a feeling you really were a woman and needed to be pushed. Do you forgive me?"
"I must admit, at times I was angry, Malcolm. After last night, though, everything seemed to fall into place. It just felt...so... so natural. I never would have known. I guess I have you to thank for that."
I felt a tear run down my cheek as I admitted that. He reached over and wiped it away with his finger.
"So I take it I'm forgiven?"
"Let me just say, when we get back tonight, I will show you how grateful I am in your bedroom. You won't need to strap me down."
His eyes went wide. I saw such hunger in them. He was longing for me. To possess me. To have me. No one ever wanted me this much.
After dessert, he paid the bill, and I noticed he had to cover his trousers with his coat. I giggled at the thought that I had caused that.
As we drove back, I gently stroked his erection through his trousers,
"Stop that, please. I don't want to crash."
"Oh! Ok if you don't like me touching you. I won't touch you again."
I feigned hurt. He stuttered and apologised, and I laughed. Oh, the power I had over such a powerful man was intoxicating.
We rushed up to his room. He had almost stripped naked before he got through the door. I sank to my knees and took his hardness in my mouth. I sucked and licked the length of his cock. It turned slightly red from my lipstick. His groans and encouragement were music to my ears. I knew he wouldn't last long. I had had enough practice with him.
I wondered how many other women were doing this right now for their men. Right here, right now, I was doing it for my man. I felt my own cock, trapped in vintage silk and lace, straining for release as my bobbed up and down faster.
"Ahhh.. no, please wait, Sarah. I would like to finish inside you."
He lifted me easily onto the bed. I was still fully dressed. He fluffed up my dress and petticoat and saw my cock straining the back silk.
"A favor for a favor, my dear."
He popped the studs on the gusset, and my small cock sprang free.
"Such a cute clity "
He bent between my legs and took me fully into his mouth. Oh, it had been so long since I had had a blow job. I arched my back as he sucked. He started to play with the plug in my backside. This was so intense. I screamed and came. It had taken less the a minute. No wonder my wife never liked having sex with me. I would not be like her, no never. He wanted me; he would have me.
"Did you enjoy that my love?"
"It was amazing, Malcolm. Now, please fuck me. NOW"
"Oh, you dirty slut. You want it, don't you?"
He lifted my stocking-clad legs over his shoulders as he removed my plug.
He lined his bare cock up with my eager hole. Then, so very slowly pushed into me.
There was pain, but it was a sweet pain. I expected it and wanted it. He was making me his. He was taking his woman.
He slowly withdrew and started to fuck me. It was incredible. I groaned and saw one of my 3-inch court shoes bouncing off my foot with every stroke as he slammed into me. I felt so full. Full of hard cock. A cock hard for me. A cock that lusted for my body.
"Do you like this, Sarah? Do you like being a woman? Wearing pretty soft clothes. and wonderful silk and satin underwear? Doing women's work? Being loved and cherished by a strong man who will look after you? "
I was lost in the moment. His dick was hitting my prostate again and again with each thrust.
"Yeeeessss. Ohhh yesss."
"Good. I want you to marry me, to become Lady Sarah Gutteridge."
My mind was spinning with images of being dressed in fine clothes, big hats at Lady's day at Ascot, and hosting dinner parties. Being totally immersed in a female life. A life of privilege and ease. Trapped forever in what was my hobby. I couldn't contain myself.
"Oh God, yes!"
I screamed came for a second time. My backside clenched around his cock. He gave one last powerful thrust and shot his lust deep inside me.
He leaned over me. Totally dominating me, and kissed me. His tongue invading me. I willingly surrendered.
"You are mine now. Francis is gone forever. Now there is only Sarah. Soon, there will be Lady Sarah. My wife."