How My Husband Became My Girlfriend--part 1Preface: It seems that for many, Forced Feminization involves some sort of violent act against a man, which in turn transforms him into something less than a man, i.e. a woman. What if instead, Forced Feminization involved taking a crude, obnoxious, perpetually horny man and transforming him into a higher type of human, to wit a woman? Forcing does not have to utilize violence just as Feminization is not a demotion, but a promotion. With that in mind, please consider the following scenario.
Four years ago, I got a shocking call from my best friend in all the world, Sandy. My husband of just a year, had been hitting on her and had been trying to get her into bed with him, and she wanted me to know all about it since we had been friends since grade school. As it turns out, he had a sex addiction and had been ******* around behind my back with other women in addition to way too much internet ***********.This is the story of how I exacted my revenge on that ******* husband of mine, and turned him into the most girly man you can imagine.
I was heart broken after that call and didn’t know quite how to proceed. If Sandy and I hadn’t been such good friends for so long, I probably wouldn’t have believed her, but as it was, I trusted her implicitly and knew her story had to be true. How could he do such a thing, and with my BFF no less?! Words failed me, and toward the end of a good hour-long cry, I decided to call my mother and see what advice or words of wisdom she had to offer.
“Mom!” I sobbed into the phone after she answered.
“It’s OK dear, take your time and tell me all about what’s bothering you.”
Between bouts of tearful sobbing, I managed to get out that Tim had been hitting on my best friend Sandy, apparently for about 4 months. At first, Sandy had tried to brush him off and ignore his advances, but that only seemed to make him try harder.
Finally, he had contrived to be alone with her at the health club where they both worked as personal trainers, and had managed to kiss her and get his hands under her blouse before she was able to get away from him. He had even pressed his erection against her, which he was inordinately proud of even though in reality it was on the smaller side of average, thinking that would fan the fires of her lust for him. It merely served to gross her out even further, and she called me as soon as she was able to escape to the women’s locker room.
“Oh my, honey! That’s just horrible! I’m so sorry he did that to you. You must feel devastated. Do you want to stay here tonight? I’m sure you don’t want to be with that ******* right now, do you?”
“I don’t know what I want to do!” I wailed into the phone. “Oh wait a minute! Yes, I do know what I want to do, I want to pay him back and then some! But how?! Oh Mom! I’m so humiliated I can’t even tell you! I mean, it’s bad enough he was trying to cheat on me, but with my best friend Sandy.”
“Well, dear, to be honest, I’m not that surprised to hear he did that to Sandy. Oh, she’s so sweet, I can’t believe he would do that to the two of you. He knows how close you two are. But as I was saying, I think he’s been giving me the hairy eyeball, if you know what I mean; oh, since way back when you first brought him home to meet your father and I.”
“What? What do you mean Mom?”
“Well, honey, nothing ever came of it and I never wanted to upset you, but I used to catch him looking at my legs or my *** or my breasts when he thought no one else was paying him any mind. I have to admit it was a little creepy even then, but I just figured he was a bored, over-sexed young man and so long as nothing ever happened, which it didn’t honey, I didn’t feel like I had to say anything to you. I’m sorry dear! It seems I probably should have said something a while back.”
“Oh! That ************* bastard! I can’t believe this! He’s such a ******* *****. How can I get him back for all this? Just leaving him would be too good for that bastard! I can’t believe it! I just can’t believe I was so gullible to believe all his ******* lies! Aarrrrggghh!” I screamed in frustration.
“I know honey, I know. We were all fooled by his smooth talk. But you know, there is a way you can put an end to his philandering ways, either temporarily or permanently, depending on what you want to do.”
“What do you have in mind?” I asked choking back more tears, trying to calm myself down.
“Well, I know a few couples that were having problems like this; they’re older than you two, but it could still work.”
“What?! What are you talking about, Mom?”
“OK, here’s what I mean. You know that friend I have in Indiana who was going to divorce her husband if he didn’t shape up?”
“Yeah, I think I remember you talking about her. What was her name? Lydia or something like that?”
“Her name was Linda. Well, she started giving her husband Wendell, something that calmed him right down and took the wind out of his sails in no time. He lost all interest in other women, even stopped cruising the internet looking at **** and ************.”
“Oh ****! And that’s another thing,” I wailed, interrupting. “When Tim is home, he’s usually on the computer ******* off to **** too! I never said anything; I always figured all guys did that.”
“Most do, honey, but Linda’s Wendell lost all interest in it,” she chuckled.
“Yeah? Ok, so what did Linda do to get Wendell to completely change like that? Really the whole story is a little hard to believe.”
“Have you ever heard of estradiol, dear?”
“Uhm, isn’t that like estrogen or something in women.”
“That’s right honey, it’s the most powerful of the three types of estrogen in a woman’s body. Turns out men make a little too, but not enough to make them feminine. But……” she said suggestively drawing out the last word.
“But what?” I practically yelled into my phone.
“But this! If a man has too much estradiol in his system, it begins to affect him. It decreases his sex drive. Linda said Wendell stopped getting erections at all hours of the day or night, he no longer pestered her for sex in the morning like most men, and eventually stopped ************. She was putting it in his food morning and night. He had no idea what was happening to him. He literally thought the therapy he was doing was what helped him stop looking at ****, paying for prostitutes and ************ when he couldn’t manage that. She says it was the estrogen.”
“Oh my god! That sounds fantastic! Where did she get it? Was it expensive or hard to get? Didn’t she need a doctor’s presc
“Slow down honey, slow down. I don’t know all those details but I’m sure Linda would be happy to go over all that with us. I’ll call her, but in the mean time, why don’t you do some research on the internet and see what you can find out about it. OK?”
“Sure Mom, I can do that. Do you think I should confront that ***** about Sandy?”
“You can always do that later. Why don’t you wait until you talk to Linda and do some research on estradiol before you do anything rash. I mean if you want to do this, it’s probably better if he doesn’t know how mad you are at him.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’m so glad I called you. Well, I want to look into this before penis-brain is supposed to get home. I’ll call you later, OK? I love you Mom.”
“I love you too honey. Call me when you want to talk. Bye,” Mom said cheerfully.
My interest piqued, I immediately got on the internet and started looking up estradiol, then estradiol effects, then effects in men, side effects and so on, until I had a pretty good understanding how it would affect him. Estradiol is one of the main hormones transgender women use to change from male to female and for the most part, it takes away their interest and ability to have sex like a man. Even though all the sites said it affected each person differently, that “your mileage may vary”, one thing that seemed universally recognized was that it feminized the brain as well as the body. That last seemed perfect for my purposes since I most wanted to change Tim’s behavior. It also reduced the function of his junk, which apparently happens the quickest and wouldn’t be so bad either. So, with any luck, I could decrease his sex drive, make it harder for him to get erections but still be able to function in our bed when I wanted and he would become the sweet, kind, loving husband I always thought he would become.
Mom was good on her word and Linda and I had a very long telephone discussion about how she put her husband on cross-gender hormones and how much it had improved their relationship and saved their marriage from almost certain divorce. Her husband had been doing that stuff for years. Every other time he had been caught, which was like five or six times, he swore he could stop on his own, that he could control himself, but he always went back to those old, destructive behaviors despite his best intentions. Linda knew he was a good man at heart, but needed help with this issue. Estradiol proved just the ticket and she couldn’t have been happier with the results.
That sounded like a win-win situation to me and using her advice, I found a site that sold transgender hormones without a doctor’s presc
While I was waiting those two long weeks, I talked extensively with Mom and Sandy, alternately being sure it was a great plan, then later getting cold feet. Both women thought the punishment totally fit the crime. Tim could be a real gentleman when he tried, but they both agreed underneath he was a total snake in the grass. My course of action was made all that much harder since he was on his best behavior during that period, from fear that Sandy would spill the beans about his philandering ways. When the pills arrived, I called Mom, not sure if I should really go through with this.
“Hi honey, how are you doing?”
“Mom, they came! I have the estradiol now. It seems a little surreal, somehow.”
“Oh, that’s great! Are you excited to see what happens?”
“More like scared to see what happens! I mean, what if he grows boobs? What would I say?”
“You don’t have to say anything; not if he doesn’t know what you’re doing. Did you figure out a way to give them to him without him realizing it?”
“Yeah. You know he takes a lot of supplements, right? Well, last year he started taking an herb he heard about that’s just for men, to keep their junk functioning properly; like he needs that right?! It comes in 500 milligram capsules so I thought I would see if I can put one pill in each capsule, you know, start like that.”
Mom laughed out loud. “Honey, that’s beautiful and so ironic! He will be taking that supplement…what’s it called?”
“Butea superba, I checked to make sure he was still taking it, and he just got an order of six more bottles.”
“OK, butea superba, so he’s taking that to supposedly keep himself hard for every woman he sees, and in reality it will be doing the opposite. How ironic, honey!! You are brilliant!”
“Oh Mom, do you really think I should do it? I’m just not sure,” I complained into the phone.
“Yes honey, you should definitely do it. What do you have to loose? And, if you don’t like how it’s working, you can always stop. How long is it before the changes become permanent anyway? What did Linda say? I don’t think that happens for quite a while, does it?”
“No, it takes something like six months for it to, you know, make him sterile, I guess. I don’t think I want that to happen”
“I understand honey, but if he had had sex with Sandy, she could be pregnant now, you know. How would that make you feel, not to mention her? Lots of men voluntarily get sterilized, that’s what a vasectomy is after all. And later on, you could always adopt, or have someone else get you pregnant when you want children.”
"Yeah, I’ve been thinking about all of that. I guess that’s part of the reason I’m hesitating doing it. Do you really think I should do it, I mean really? It’s been fun, and therapeutic, to talk about, but should I really go through with it?”
“Yes honey. You heard Sandy last week when we all were together. She is totally in favor of it and so am I. In fact, if it works I may just start giving it to your father. I was hoping by his age, his sex drive would have waned a lot more than it has,” she said laughing.
We talked about it for a while longer, going over all the awful things Tim had done since we’d been together and each time Mom reassured me it was the appropriate measure to take if Tim and I were to remain a couple. After getting off the phone with Mom, I spent the next hour or so opening Tim’s butea capsules one by one and putting a small, blue, two milligram Progynova tablet into each one. I found if I did it right, the blue pill didn’t show through the clear gelatin capsule. I was pretty sure Tim would never see them since he took literally eight or ten different supplements and vitamins each morning, and maybe half that number again in the evening. Other than counting them out, he didn’t seem to pay much attention to them, taking handfuls of three or four at once to get them all down quickly.
Our lives went on, with Tim still trying to be extra good. I could tell he was making an effort to reduce the amount of time he spent looking at **** on the internet, but unfortunately that only made him more irritable and harder to be around. I guess I got a little taste of what he was going through those past few weeks, waiting for me to lower the boom on his attempted seduction of Sandy. I felt the same way, waiting for the angry outburst when he recognized something funny in his butea capsules and immediately suspecting me of giving him female hormones. This was completely silly of course since, when I thought about it, he would have no reason to suspect they were estradiol and no reason to think I would do it. As far as he knew, I still hadn’t found out about Sandy.
I decided to keep track of his morning erections, which wasn’t very difficult since that was one of his favorite times to have sex and he was always pestering me to wake him up by sucking him off. Luckily I didn’t have that long to wait.
Around the middle of week three taking the Progynova pills, he started waking up without a morning erection. I had gotten into the habit of waking a bit earlier than Tim, and was so excited when I realized he wasn’t hard, the first couple mornings I actually woke him up by mistake, pulling the sheet back and looking. I ended up giving him blow jobs to cover up why I was so interested in his junk and was relieved to see that he could still get as hard as usual with stimulation.
The weeks slowly went by and it was easily three months into my little experiment. His morning erections became extremely rare and along with that, I also noticed he was approaching me for sex less frequently, which honestly wasn’t so undesirable since he used to want it pretty much daily. Now, we were down to once or twice per week, which seemed much more reasonable. He also seemed much less urgent when we were intimate and even began paying more attention to me getting off, than ever before. A girl could definitely get used to that!
I guess it was around the eighth or ninth week when we were both in the bathroom together, getting ready for work, when I realized his nipples had gotten quite large, for him anyway. They were pretty much erect all the time now, much more like mine. He noticed my stare.
“My nipples have been ultra sensitive lately, babe, and now they kind of stand up all the time. I don’t know why,” he said shrugging and looking a little chagrinned.
I chuckled, thinking I know why! “Oh don’t worry about it. I think they’re cute and you seemed to like it last night when I was sucking on them.”
He looked at them in the mirror and said “Yeah that really got me going, didn’t it? Do you think they’re bigger? I’m not sure…” he trailed off starting to play with both of them.
I moved behind him in the mirror, wrapping my arms around him and fondling his limp penis as he played with his own nipples. “I think they’re perfect. Do you want me to suck on them for you?” I asked trying to get a rise out of him. It’s a bit of a challenge to stroke a limp **** until it starts getting hard, but I tried.
“Well, yeah! But not right now baby, I really have to get going or I’ll be late for work,” he said uncharacteristically, breaking my embrace and moving quickly into the bedroom to get dressed. I noticed his **** still hadn’t risen despite my ministrations. In the past, he would have been rock hard in an instant and as late for work as necessary if I had offered sex. I stood there a bit surprised at first, then secretly pleased. The estradiol was definitely having the desired effects, but I was in for one more surprise that morning!
“Honey!” I heard him yell from across the master bedroom. “I don’t seem to have any clean boxers. Didn’t you do the laundry? I told you I was running low.”
“I didn’t have time. You know I’ve been staying later than usual at work this whole week; it’s been completely nuts there lately. And anyway, the washer will work if you put clothes in it, the same as it does for me. You could have done a load or two while you were waiting for me to get home and get dinner last night. I still have some clean ones in my drawer. Why don’t you grab a pair of the black bikinis just for today?” I yelled back from the bathroom while putting on my makeup. I really didn’t expect him to wear my panties; I figured he would just wear a dirty pair of his from the laundry hamper.
As I finished putting on lipstick, I realized he hadn’t said anything back and sauntered into the bedroom with just my own panties on. I found him, looking at himself in the mirror, turning side to side several times. As I watched, he rubbed himself through the satiny material of the boy shorts with lace around the leg openings, slowly getting hard, his nipples already standing at attention indicating his arousal. When he realized I was watching he blushed the brightest shade of red.
“I…these…I…I didn’t know…I mean…does it feel like this all the time to put on your underwear?” he stammered.
“Well, it doesn’t make me hard, if that’s what you’re asking, but yeah, girls like to wear sexy lingerie because it makes us feel sexy. I have to say, I always wondered what you would look like in my panties and now I know. You look hot!!!” I exclaimed moving behind him again and rubbing my bare breasts against his bare back. I was definitely aroused at this point and could easily have been persuaded to go to work late myself!
“Oh my god, I can’t wear panties! No way!” he exclaimed.
“Oh, come on! Why not? Who’s going to know, and besides none of yours are clean. Wear them just for today, I dare you!”
“Well, maybe just for today. I guess no one will be able to see them under my warm-ups.” He moved away and I could still see the semi-erect shape of his **** under the boy shorts as he finished getting dressed for work.
I didn’t say anything more as we ate breakfast, but noted he took two butea capsules that morning instead of one. Even better, I thought, since things were going so well I had been thinking I should add another tablet to each capsule. Now I didn’t have to try to squeeze another one in and risk them being discovered.
When we kissed goodbye before getting in our own cars, I pulled him close, put a hand on his crotch and said seductively “If you’re still wearing panties when you get home tonight, I’m very sure I won’t be able to keep my hands off you. Keep that in mind today, big boy,” I said in my best Marilyn Monroe imitation, giving his penis and balls an extra, loving squeeze.
His eyes grew wide and he gulped, saying “Yeah, OK…wow, OK! See you tonight, honey!”
Later that night after dinner, I checked and he was still wearing the boy shorts, so we had a lovely session of mutual gratification, starting on the couch in the living room and eventually moving to our bedroom. Tim loved being touched through the soft, sensuous material of the panties and even remarked they were so comfortable he had forgotten he was wearing anything different for underwear.
The next morning as we were both getting ready for work, he asked if he could wear another pair from my drawers, since in our passions of the previous evening, we had both neglected to do laundry yet again. I have a bit of a thing for lingerie, so I have way more than any one person really needs.
“Sure, honey,” I replied, smirking to myself as I finished my makeup in the bathroom. He pranced in behind me wearing teal blue bikinis with a lace panel in the front.
“Are these OK for me to wear? I love how they feel and everything seems to fit just fine,” he said giving his package a minor adjustment. His limp **** was faintly visible under the lace while the satiny material hugged his cheeks in the most alluring way.
“Absolutely, baby! Those look so hot on you! God, maybe you should get a bunch of your own. Didn’t you say some of yours were loosing their elastic in the waist, and you needed to buy more? Just get some like that hun; I like them way better.”
I grinned lustily at his reflection in the mirror, gratified to see him blush as he played with the placement of his package in the skimpy, lace panties.
“Honey, they look great, but what if you get an erection during the day? Won’t you pop right out?” I asked coyly.
“Yeah I suppose so. But, I haven’t really been getting those boners during the day, lately. I mean, I didn’t get any yesterday when I wore your panties, so I bet these will be OK today. I’m glad you don’t mind, or think it’s weird I like wearing them.” The last he said looking down at himself, and I could see he was blushing again.
Like yesterday, I came up behind him, this time playing with his definitely bigger nipples. “It’s OK honey, don’t be embarrassed. Lots of men enjoy wearing lingerie. If it makes you feel good, you should just do it, and **** anyone who doesn’t understand. Besides, did anyone notice yesterday?”
This is going LOTS better than I imagined I thought to myself while stimulating his nipples which had gotten rock hard and stuck out at least a half inch, if not more, from my ministrations.
“No, no one noticed yesterday,” he admitted sheepishly.
“And didn’t you say they were a lot more comfortable than your old boxers?” I pressed him.
“Yeah, they really were, I have to admit,” he said admiring himself in the mirror again.
“Well OK then, that’s settled! I don’t care if you never wear boxers again to be honest. Throw them all out and lets get you some sexy lingerie! I love it! You look so hot, I can’t stand it!” I said bending forward and taking his right nipple into my mouth, I was gratified by his moan of pleasure as he stood there letting me suck on his ****.
Several days later we made a trip to Target and picked out a wide assortment of panties, boy shorts, and even a few thongs. He was still too embarrassed to do anything more than pretend he was there with me while I was selecting them for myself, only offering advice or expressing overt interest when pressed. Oh well, I thought and pulled a few no-wire bras off the rack in a band size I guessed would fit him. Glancing at him sideways, standing there in his t-shirt and jeans, I chuckled to myself as I noticed his very prominent nipples showing through the soft, comfy t-shirt. As I was browsing the racks of lacey, women’s undergarments, I wondered how he would look in stockings and tossed in a couple pairs of nude and shear black, lace-top thigh highs. This is so much fun, I thought, not for the last time. Who would have known shopping for lingerie for your husband could so entertaining?
It took a little coaxing, but eventually I got him to let me throw out his old boxers, even the ones that still had some wear life left in them. It didn’t really take that long, but he eventually accepted wearing panties as his new normal, and even seemed to enjoy it. He was still taking the herbs laced with estradiol, twice daily. We both noticed it took a little more effort to get him properly aroused for sex, but that didn’t seem like a problem for either of us. I had always wanted more of an emphasis on foreplay in our lovemaking anyway. And, he just didn’t seem to notice his decreased desire for sex over all, since he could still get quite hard, even if it took longer to get there.
The end result was we actually were growing closer since sex, when we had it, was much more about cuddling, and talking and sharing; we were no longer totally focused on his ******. There were even a few times when we had marvelous sex, seeming to **** for hours, only to have him roll off me before he had **********. He swore up and down that there was nothing wrong, that he had enjoyed himself immensely, maybe more than ever before, that I was absolutely the perfect partner. It was just that his ****** wasn’t happening, and the more he tried to make it happen the farther away it seemed to be. He admitted that frankly, he was super satisfied that I had gotten off so well and his getting off seemed like way too much work right then, and would I mind terribly if we didn’t keep trying?
‘Did I mind?!’ Hell, I loved having sex for hours, having three or four ******* and then not having to worry about getting him off! It was ******* great!
I hugged him tightly, feeling his now limp **** against my own soaking wet pubes. Looking into his eyes and wondering if he was wearing some mascara or if the lighting in the bedroom was just creating tricks with my eyes, I said “Honey, it’s fine, I love this new you so much, I don’t care if you *** or not. I had like four ******* anyway and I’m pretty tired. Kiss me you fool!”
We kissed tenderly and cuddled for a while after that, before dropping off to sleep. I can honestly say that was probably the first time he didn’t roll off me and almost immediately fall asleep after such a vigorous session of sex. In fact, I was probably the one that dozed off first!
Our lives had started to settle into new routines. Since Tim was no longer spending inordinate amounts of time on the computer ******* off to internet **** (Linda was so right about that, he had almost completely lost interest in internet ***********) he was doing more of the house cleaning and kind of took over doing the laundry for both of us. It took a little training before he understood which of our lingerie needed to be hand washed, which could go in the delicates bag in the washer but needed to be line dried and which of his and my bralettes and sports bras could go through both the washer and dryer. I had finally convinced him that a light support sports bra was just the ticket to keep people from staring at his oh-so-prominent nipples when he wore t-shirts. The clincher had come while we were in Target again, both getting some new lingerie, when several teenage girls were none too subtle about noticing and giggling and commenting on his very prominent nipples showing through even his button-up shirt.
Going through the browser history on our home computer, I noticed he was spending a lot of time browsing panties and bras and other kinds of lingerie on sites like herroom.com, victoriassecret.com, nylingerie.com and barenecessities.com. There were even some blouses and dresses on his ‘Wish List’ on amazon.com! He was also now getting the almost daily email offers of lingerie sales from those sites and more, to his own email address. So, I wasn’t too surprised one Saturday morning, when I found him standing in front of the bathroom mirror in just a pair of lavender, low rise, satin panties examining his very prominent nipples. He was squeezing just behind his much darker, prominent areolas and frowning quizzically.
“What’s up baby?” I enquired, noticing how cute his bum looked in those panties, and that his package in front seemed smaller and more at home in the lovely confines of his lingerie. Unfortunately, the effect was marred by his still hairy legs and belly, although I kind of thought his chest looked a little less hairy than I remembered from his more manly days.
“I don’t know, my nipples are soooo sensitive right now, and there seems to be a lump behind them, on both sides. You don’t think I could have breast cancer, do you?” he asked glancing at my braless boobs in the mirror.
“Well it is possible for men to get breast cancer, but I think it’s pretty rare, especially at our age,” I said chuckling. “Let me show you how to do a breast self-exam like I do, but I bet you’re fine. Here, you start like this,” I said beginning with my left breast and using my finger tips to methodically circle my breast, feeling for any lumps, especially any that feel like they are attached to the ribcage underlying the actual breast tissue. When we finished both breasts, and I had demonstrated the correct technique directly on him, he was more than satisfied it wasn’t breast cancer. Along the way, I kept assuring him I felt nothing more than normal breast tissue and he seemed very reassured by that. I also noticed, but didn’t mention, I could feel very definite breast buds under his areolas, pretty much what I had felt in myself when I was 11 or 12 and had started developing up top.
“Honey, I was wondering,” I said casually back in the bedroom, “have you been taking your butea herbs from Thailand recently? Last night was the fourth time in a row you didn’t *** at the end of sex. How many of those are you supposed to take anyway?”
“Yeah I’ve been taking them, but I went back down to the recommended dosage of two per day. Do you think I need to take more? I mean you got off pretty good last night, and I stayed erect the whole time, didn’t I, not like the last time when I went soft and couldn’t get hard again? Maybe I should double up on the dose, huh? It says to just take one in the morning and evening, but those dosages are always a bit conservative. I suppose two each time wouldn’t really hurt and might help.”
“Definitely! I think that’s a great idea, but maybe you should increase slowly, like take two in the morning and one in the evening for a while. If you still want to take more after a week or two, then take two in the evening as well. Do you have enough for that?” I asked noting he was putting on a color coordinated bra to go with his lovely panties. It was a sexy look on him that unfortunately was spoiled by even his moderate amount of body hair.
“Honey, you know I think that’s a great look on you, but it’s kind of spoiled by your, well, your body hair. Maybe you should shave your legs and chest,” I suggested a little furtively, afraid he would balk at the idea.
“You really think so?” he asked looking down at his bare legs. “You wouldn’t think it was weird or something, would you? I mean, men don’t usually shave themselves, do they?”
“Honey, lots of men shave all over. I totally think you should do it; you’ll look so sexy if you do. Would you like me with hairy legs, or god forbid, hair on my breasts?”
“No, but you’re not supposed to have body hair like that. Men are supposed to, aren’t they?” he asked a little doubtfully.
“Well, who says men are supposed to be hairy?” I asked coyly. “I think I’d prefer you without all that fur. You’re looking so much more feminine lately; I love it! Come on, why don’t you do it this morning? I’ll go get breakfast and you shave, OK?” I gave him a kiss on the lips and patted his cute bottom as I gently pushed him toward the bathroom. “Get going gorgeous, take that bra and panties off and use the hair conditioner like I do instead of that shaving cream you use on your face. You’ll love it; you’ll see. Now git!” I said giving his bottom a firmer swat.
I got breakfast ready and waited for him, basking in the warm sunlight that filled our breakfast nook every morning. It seemed to take him longer than I expected and I was just about to go upstairs and see what was keeping him, when he sauntered into the kitchen wearing a pair of nylon running shorts and a tight t-shirt. I have to admit, the sight of him really gave me pause as I saw him from the side first. With his smooth, lean physique and budding breasts pushing through his t-shirt, he looked just like a 13 year old girl at the beginning of puberty! He turned to face the counter and pour himself coffee, and I got a chance to admire his tight butt and smooth, shapely legs. Damn! I thought to myself. He might have sexier legs than me!
“Honey! Your legs look so sexy now! Definitely keep shaving them. How do they feel like that?” I said getting up and moving close to hug him from the back.
“Well, it was a little weird at first, but I think I got the hang of it. And yeah, I like how they feel all smooth now. You don’t think I look weird now, do you?” he asked sheepishly, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.
“No way! You look good enough to eat,” I said suggestively rising onto tiptoes to kiss him. We kissed for several long minutes, during which I ran my hands under his shirt and all over his silky smooth chest. I paid special attention to his budding breasts, satisfied to find his nipples as sensitive as ever and the breasts buds under his areolas even more defined. I couldn’t keep myself from running my hands all over his body, even down inside his shorts, and Oh My God! He had even shaved his pubes completely! Now that was an unexpected bonus.
“Oooo baby! I love the new smooth you! I can’t wait another second, take me right here,” I said forcefully hoping onto the kitchen island and practically ripping my own shorts off to reveal my shaved *****.
Tim giggled hesitantly at first, then pulled his t-shirt off overhead. His smooth chest looked so feminine with his enlarged nipples and budding breasts. “If I had known it would have this effect on you, I would have done it a long time ago,” he said pushing his running shorts down to expose his smooth boyish package. I noticed that as hard as his nipples were, his penis was still limp and definitely looked smaller now than I remembered it looking before all this started. Still, he looked so sexy like that, I just wanted to touch him all over with my whole body.
Without missing a beat, Tim descended on my wet, smooth ***** and began eating me in the glorious way he had learned more recently, sending shivers of sexual pleasure coursing up my spine and spreading out through my entire body. I laid back on the counter and let wave after wave build inside me until I felt nearly ready to burst. I reached for his head pulling him up, kissing him hard on the mouth while tasting my **** juices covering his lips, cheeks and nose. I rubbed my nipples and breasts against his and was rewarded by his own moans of pleasure.
Sliding one hand down his smooth abs while my other stimulated a nipple, I cupped his lovely, soft penis and balls in my hand, and began stroking his still limp ****. It took several minutes of unrelenting kissing and feeling him up to finally obtain the desired result: a full on erection. I pushed him off me and slid my hips to the edge of the counter, then guided his lovely little penis into my wet, waiting *****, sighing with satisfaction. He grinned back at me in the most endearing way and slowly began ******* me on the kitchen counter.
We changed positions several times before I finally felt him getting close to ******* with me bent over the counter and him in me from the rear. I fingered my **** while he pushed in and out of my sloppy, wet *****, when I felt him tense up and begin to spurt deep inside. I must admit I was more than a little disappointed when he sighed deeply and lay across my back after only two or three spurts, obviously finished with his ******. He used to *** buckets inside me and would seem to spurt eight or nine times at least. I kept fingering my clitoris and finally achieved my own climax with his **** remaining loosely inside me since he was already loosing his erection. When I asked him to let me up, I looked back to see his **** already completely flaccid, almost as if it had never been just inside me.
Tim grabbed a hand towel, wiped my juices off his limp **** and tossed it over to me. Honestly, I felt a momentary pang of regret remembering the copious amounts of *** he used to have and how he would often remain quite hard well after we were done. I also realized, that for the first time I could remember since we started having sex years ago, I wasn’t totally dripping his *** from my *****. Ah well, I mused to myself, I guess that’s a small price to pay for how lovely and wonderful he was becoming as the estradiol exerted more and more influence over his body and mind. I couldn’t wait to call my mother and give her an update!
We spent a lazy Saturday morning together, me reading a soft-core **** novel while Tim spent some time surfing the internet. When I sat next to him at one point, I realized he was looking through page after page of dresses and blouses on amazon.com and had accumulated quite a few items on his wish list.
“Do you want to start wearing dresses, honey?” I asked nonchalantly.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe. It’s really just that they’re so pretty. I just love how they look on those women,” he said matter-of-factly. “And, uhm…well…I love how their legs look in a dress with heels,” he said more hesitantly looking sidelong at me for a reaction.
“Mmmm, I know; they are hot, aren’t they? I love wearing high heels too. But your legs are super sexy now that you shave and I bet you’d look just as hot in a dress and heels. Why don’t you order some and see how they look on you? You can always return them if they don’t fit,” I suggested without missing a beat while caressing his smooth inner thigh to help convince him.
“Really? You think so? I mean…wow! Thanks! That would be so cool. But, I don’t really know what size I am. What do you think?”
So we spent the next several hours pouring over pages and pages of dresses and heels on several different sites until we had figured out he was probably a size 10 dress and most likely a size 10.5 or 11 in heels. We ordered several different dresses for him and four or five pairs of different style heels; some dressy pumps with a four inch heel and even an everyday pair of ankle boots with a more modest two inch heel. I was delighted with his progress, but even more importantly, he was feeling much more at home with his new, more feminine self.
When the latest additions to his wardrobe arrived, it turned out we had made some pretty good guesses and only had to return one pair of heels that were too small and one dress that just really didn’t look good on him. Everything else looked smashing and he spent the entire evening wearing different combinations of heels and dresses. It wasn’t hard at that point to convince him to wear the thigh highs I had bought months ago. He loved both how they felt and how they made his legs look even sexier.
At one point, I noticed he was frowning critically at his reflection in the mirror, despite wearing a lovely floral print dress with an empire waist (helped hide his lack hips) and three quarter sleeves (which helped hide his still muscular arms.)
“What’s up, baby? I thought you liked that dress, and you’ve certainly learned to walk pretty well in heels, even in this short amount of time.”
“Well, I don’t know, my hair just doesn’t work anymore. I’m so sick of how it looks, and it spoils the whole effect. I think I need to grow it out and maybe go to your stylist, but god, it’ll take so long!”
“Good idea, honey,” I agreed trying not to sound over eager. “Maybe you should see Karen this week. She can give you a nice pixie cut or something and we can plan how you should let it grow out. Lots of sexy women have short hair, hun,” I added matter-of-factly.
“Yeah, I know,” he agreed still preoccupied with his reflection. “Do you think this dress really works for me?” he queried, cupping his still insubstantial breasts. Though I could see they were definitely getting bigger, they still didn’t fill the dress, which was cut for a woman with at least a b-cup or larger.
“Well, honey,” I said coming up behind him, feeling much smaller since he was still in his four inch black pumps. “That’s what padded bras are for. Maybe it’s time we got you a couple. What do you say?”
“Yeah, I’d like that. You don’t think it’s weird, do you? That I wear bras, you know, like you?” he asked shyly.
“No, baby. I think it’s natural. If you have breasts, you need to wear bras. I think it’s wonderful how accepting you are about it all. I never imagined you like this when we first met, but I have to admit I love how you’re changing. How do you feel? Do you like it?”
“Well, I don’t know about any changes, but I feel fine. Especially when wearing women’s clothes. Somehow, they just feel more ‘right’ than my old things, which are so boring anyway.”
“That’s nice baby, but the changes I was talking about are, oh I don’t know, like you get angry so much less now. You used to have those super scary, angry outbursts, pretty often really. But I can’t remember the last time you had one. And you’re so much more cuddly and fun now in bed. That’s pretty cool. And you spend SO much less time browsing **** on the internet; you have to admit that’s given you lots more time to do stuff you never got around to before. And, you just seem happier somehow. I don’t know, you just kind of glow.”
Smiling shyly, he nodded his agreement as he smoothed the front of his dress, watching himself in the mirror again. “Chrissy, do you think eye makeup would help? I mean you wear a little all the time, don’t you? Don’t you think I should too?” he asked turning his head this way and that, trying to see himself from the side.
I could barely contain myself from bubbling over with glee at this request, and had to work hard to appear to answer his query like any other mundane question one might ask their partner.
“Absolutely. I think you would look great with a little makeup. It would help define your eyes and we could smooth out your skin with some cover-up and light foundation. You would look awesome! Lets go in the bedroom and I’ll show you how. This will be fun! I’m glad you mentioned it!”
I led him by the hand into the bedroom and sat him in front of my vanity mirror after he removed his dress. He opted to keep the thigh highs and heels on, and I had to agree, he looked terrific like that. I also noticed his breasts were probably small A-cups at this point and were really starting to fill out his bras more than ever. We had a marvelous time as I showed him the basics of everyday make-up application. I put it on him the first time, explaining what I was doing as I went along, then showed him how to remove it. Even after all the years we had lived together it had never registered that I removed my makeup and washed my face every single night.
After that, I had him reapply everything with just coaching on my part. He didn’t do too badly, but really did end up looking like a cross-dresser in makeup. So, I had him remove it all and start over, trying to be a bit more subtle. In the end, it looked fairly natural if a bit obvious that he was wearing eye liner, shadow and mascara, but he had improved in just those few attempts, so I was confident he would get the hang of it. I let him keep the last application on as we snuggled together on the living room couch watching a movie. Of course it was a chick flick, and of course we were both in tears by the end. I think he started crying first, but it didn’t really matter, as it felt wonderful to have a good cry, alternately holding and comforting each other.
Another three or four months passed (seven or eight months total) like this and overall, Tim had definitely calmed down quite a bit from his old aggressive, male persona and was easing into a much more pleasant, cheerful and fun-to-be-around partner.
Interestingly, he mentioned that some of the other personal trainers at work had noticed the changes as well. One of his colleagues Carol, complimented him on seeming happier and easier to get along with and even started referring some of her female clients to him when she taught seminars out of town. She even told him one night as they were cleaning up the gym after most of the clients had left, that his makeup was very tastefully done, saying I must have taught him well! She said one of her regulars who trained with him two or three times had first noticed it and after discussing it together, decided it definitely took the hard edge off him that seemed so intimidating to her and her female clients before.
I asked him if anyone had noticed the physical changes that I saw at home, but he said he wore either the shapewear tank tops we picked out together or tight Underarmor compression shirts under his work clothes so no one seemed to notice, at least out in the gym. He did say it was getting more and more difficult to hide his breasts if he showered there, but it wasn’t too hard to shift his schedule so that his workouts were at the end of his day which allowed him to shower at home.
Sandy was very positive about his changes as well. She told me he seemed much less edgy and angry at work and people were noticing, especially female clients. At first that made me wary, but she assured me it wasn’t in any way sexual. Somehow, he just seemed better at relating to them and helping them achieve their fitness goals. In fact, he had stopped hitting on her and now seemed genuinely interested in her as a person for the first time since they had met years ago. She told me that whatever I was doing was definitely working and to keep doing it. She was beginning to think that maybe I had been right all along and Tim really was a nice guy.
As I mentioned previously, he had stopped ******* off almost completely and no longer spent inordinate amounts of time browsing online ****. I also noticed that the few times we used **** to spice up our sex life, he mostly wanted to watch lesbian sex scenes.
Speaking of sex, we spent much more time on foreplay, holding each other and cuddling and caressing one another. It became a pretty regular practice for me to have two or three ******* that way with Tim using his fingers and/or tongue. He almost always deferred his own, since by the time I had had my fill, his little **** was quite limp. It almost seemed like he had lost interest in, or it was too much trouble for him to ***. On several occasions he claimed to be ******* despite him remaining limp and nothing coming out. When he did manage to achieve an old-style ******, he only ********** a tiny spurt or two of clear fluid in contrast to his old habit of copious amounts of thick white goo. When I pointed this out to him, he seemed puzzled.
“Honey, you don’t spurt much anymore. Do you still enjoy getting off like that?”
“Oh, I don’t know, seems like I still do, pretty much,” he demurred as we cuddled, pressing our **** together. “You came three or four times, didn’t you Chrissy? Seems like you enjoyed it, and I know I certainly did. No complaints here.”
“Good, honey,” I said nuzzling him in the neck. "I rather like the new and improved you and as long as you’re happy, I’m happy.” I fondled his limp ****, enjoying how soft and squishy it felt between my fingers. I noted with delight that he didn’t seem to have balls anymore. I guess they must have shrunk to the point they no longer hung down in a visible way. Serves him right I thought to myself enjoying his smooth body.
Another change I never expected was that he assumed many more of the day-to-day and week-to-week domestic chores I used to do pretty exclusively. He definitely enjoyed his new wardrobe and I took every opportunity to reinforce how sexy and hot he looked in skirts, blouses, dresses, hose and heels and he seemed to naturally gravitate toward dressing that way, even outside the bedroom. It became a lovely morning ritual for us to apply our makeup together in the bathroom, bonding as we did. It was so nice starting each day laughing with each other rather than grumbling about getting up early or another day at work.