Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Menu => Active Sissy Stories => Topic started by: Sandra B on February 15, 2021, 06:32:33 AM
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Chapter I. Memories.
On our wedding day I think I was still in a daze. I had loved Chris since we were at school together – since I was thirteen. I guess I was a shy sort, and kept my feelings to myself, but I’m pretty sure none of my peers, however much they fancied her, were afflicted by my depth of adoration. She was a gymnast, ballet-dancer, and ice-skater. She was in the county junior athletics team, and had danced with the Junior National Ballet. She was lithe, strong, and flexible – and so pretty! Every Christmas she gave ballet and gymnastics demonstrations at the end of term show. She was just as proficient on the ice. We were taken ice-skating once a fortnight, and I remember staring at her in wonder, as I gingerly stepped around the edge of the rink, enthralled by her physical beauty, and by the grace of her movements.
It was a year before I plucked up courage even to talk to her, and then another three before I stammeringly asked her out for a drink. I must have been expecting a refusal, or an excuse, because when she said, “okay – that would be nice,” it took a few seconds to sink in. I think she realised, because she looked at me a gave a little warm laugh. I think she must have known me, everything I was thinking, even then. Subsequent events have amply demonstrated her insight – and my lack of it. I think many of us live our lives, choose our partners - mould our feelings even – on the belief that, though they may be misleading, first impressions have a mystical claim on us bestowed on them by Fate – not to mention that it is always easier to be guided by appearances, than to attempt to divine the truth. It is a way of relieving ourselves of the burden of rational choice, it removes the responsibility for the consequences our actions - and is a pillar of prejudice. So it was with me. The evening after she had smiled and said “that would be nice”, in that easy, casual way, I felt drunk with elation. I convinced myself I was in love. Surely it had been ordained that we should be together. And we were, as it turned out. Two years ago we were married. But then things took an unexpected turn.
During those years of courtship I had become more and more perplexed. Outwardly we had a great relationship – everyone thought so, and Chris herself seemed to think so. But I had a lingering sense that she was the sun, and I a planet. One planet amongst many. Not other men, but her girlfriends. It seemed to me that she talked more intimately with them than she ever did with me. Once or twice she cut off a conversation in mid-flow, as if it were something that was not for my ears. I remember one occasion in particular. I remember it because it proved later to have special significance. We had a number of friends round for dinner, including a couple – Ellie and Robert – whom Chris had introduced me to. Apparently she had known Ellie since they were young children, but Ellie’s family had moved away before they went to secondary school. Whenever we saw them, Chris and Ellie would become engrossed in whispered conversations, punctuated by much giggling and the occasional outburst of hysterical laughter. Robert himself was uncommunicative, and barely responded to anything I said to him. He had an air of delicacy about him, even slight effeminacy, which made him difficult to approach at the best of times. Instead he would sit alone in his chair, staring into space, seemingly in a state of mild depression. Ellie would simply be chatting away to Chris and ignoring him. Whereas Chris might say something like, “You don’t mind us nattering away, do you Alex? Sorry – I haven’t had a proper girlie chat to Ellie for weeks. Have a drink – dinner will be ready in half an hour” – Ellie behaved as though Robert wasn’t even there. Very odd, I thought at the time. I wonder if they’re going to split up soon. But they didn’t – unfortunately, as it turned out.
Anyway, to continue. I think I’ve been putting off the next bit, but I’ll have to come clean. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been fascinated by girls. No surprise there, you’re thinking. But no, it’s not as simple as that. It’s been a sort of fetish, of which Chris herself was the highest and most potent manifestation. It wasn’t about the sex, or even individual girls. It was – well, like I said before – it was to do with their appearance, their physical presence, and…their clothes! How I envied them their neat, pretty, colourful outfits, the puffy blouses, crisp little skirts, their jewellery and their makeup. How I longed to share in their games, dress as they did, feel as they must have felt, be as they were! I am ashamed to say it, but I think my early attraction to my wife owed almost as much to the image of her clad in her leotard, as to her character. It was almost that, as much as I wanted to be with her, I also wanted to be her. That would have my ultimate happiness and fulfilment.
Inevitably, the intensity of my feelings drove me to seek some form of solitary satisfaction. I was sixteen when I finally took the plunge, and ordered myself my very own little ballet outfit – yellow leotard, white tights and silver pumps, and even a pack of panties to make the fantasy complete. Fortunately, our postman always came early, before I left for school, and I made sure to be waiting near the front door at the appropriate time. I didn’t want to have to answer any difficult questions. Unfortunately they package didn’t arrive for over a week. I got a few suspicious looks from my mother, but I got away with it, and the parcel was secreted underneath my wardrobe before I left for school. Then all I had to do was to wait for Saturday, when my parents were going out for the day.
I can’t describe the sensations I experienced that first time I dressed up. I retired to my room, and, though I knew I was alone in the house, carefully closed the door and placed a chair against it. My hands were shaking as I pulled on my panties and tights, and the sensation of drawing up the slippery, stretchy leotard, and feeling it snap into place, tautly encasing my whole torso, made me shiver uncontrollably. I wasn’t aroused – at least, not right away – simply in a sort of trance, as if I had just taken hallucinogenic drugs, and they were just beginning to take hold. I had to take several deep breaths to calm myself enough to sit down and lace on my pumps. When I was ready, I stood up and opened my wardrobe door, on the back of which was a full-length mirror. I stood there for several minutes, blinking in awe at my reflection. I kept running my fingers over the shiny spandex, and down onto my tights, revelling in the textures of the materials. Of course I had spent hours staring at ballet dancers online, and now I tried to replicate their poses and exercises. I felt exhilarated. I can’t put it into words. Euphoric and totally at peace all at once.
I decided I wanted to leave my room, to feel the freedom to roam a little. I was careful to keep away from the windows, but I skipped lightly downstairs and wandered into the kitchen, then the lounge. How wonderful it would be, I thought, if only this could be normality. If I could dress like this, or even just in everyday girls’ clothes, and do all the things I do now. Then I would be happy and content.
I knew I had all day. I revelled in my new-found freedom. I flounced about the house like a ten-year-old, practised ballet exercises, danced and jumped about. I felt a yearning to run into the garden and cavort on the lawn – but I resisted it. There were children playing in one next-door garden, and Mrs Plaxfield hanging out washing on the other side. I did, however, walk about in front of the French doors, half hoping someone would notice me. It gave me a thrill of fear and excitement. I imagined Mrs Plaxfield saying, “Oh, look at Alex! What a pretty ballet outfit he has on today! I think his parents are away. I must invite him round for lunch.” Or one of the girls in the opposite garden seeing me and remarking, “Look at that boy’s lovely ballet costume! Mummy. Could I have one like that? Please?” And being terribly jealous of me.
It was not until I became used to my costume that I began to experience other feelings. It was the middle of the afternoon when I gradually became aware of stirrings of a different sort. Not physically manifested, but deep in my psyche. This should have given me pause, I suppose, but for some reason it seemed to have the opposite effect. I became less self-conscious, more indignant at the established order of things. “Why shouldn’t I?” I said to myself. And with blind abandon I threw open the French doors and stepped into the garden.
Mrs Plaxfield had disappeared. Just as well. She would have been unable to prevent herself immediately telling my mother. But Lizzy and her friend were still in the garden on the other side. I marched boldly down the garden, pretending to be fetching something from the shed. I opened the door and picked up the first thing I laid my hands on – a feather duster. Good enough. It was only as I closed the door that they noticed me. As I walked calmly back to the house, I saw out of the corner of my eyes two open-mouthed faces turn in my direction and approach the fence. I heard Lizzy say, in a tone of disbelief, “It’s Alex… Look… He’s… Mummy! Come here!”
I don’t know if her mother came out and saw me. I entered the house in as nonchalant a manner as I could, closed the doors, and collapsed, heart pounding, on the couch. I’d done it! And I was still alive. Maybe it was possible…truly to be like a girl. It was not until some time afterwards that reality came flooding back, and my cheeks burned with embarrassment and anxiety, and I started to think up explanations for my appearance, should Lizzy and her friend decide – as surely they would – to broadcast an account of the remarkable vision they had beheld. But that was much later, in the evening. For now I still felt exhilarated. I lay down on my back the couch, and allowed my hand to slide down over my belly, towards the epicentre of my arousal. A few minutes later I experienced a shattering orgasm. I actually saw stars exploding in my field of vision. And then, predictably, I fell fast asleep.
I was awoken by the sound of a key in the lock of the front door. I reacted instinctively. In an instant I was half way up the stairs, and as I reached my bedroom I heard my mother call, “Alex? Are you there?” I still wonder today if she caught a glimpse of my little satin-clad butt disappearing round the corner. She gave me a slightly puzzled smile when I came down for tea. And my hands were still shaking as I held my knife and fork, and pondered on the uncomfortable prospect of intelligence from next door reaching her ears.
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Chapter II. Escapades.
As I feared, the story of me wearing a ballet outfit soon reached my mother’s ears. I don’t think Lizzy’s mother had caught a glimpse of me, but nevertheless she had relayed her daughter’s report to my mother. My mum mentioned it to me in an offhand way, but was far too sensitive to put me on the spot.
“That girl’s got a pretty vivid imagination,” she remarked, with a laugh. But I could see she was looking to see my reaction. Maybe she was beginning to put two and two together, what with my recent sudden interest in the mail. But she didn’t push it. I ran into Lizzy herself a couple of days later. She looked at me with big eyes.
“Alex? Are you doing ballet lessons? I saw you I the garden…”
I decided to be open about it. She’d know if I was lying. And I could always say I was playing along.
“Yeah. Thought I might have a go. Do you do ballet, Lizzy?”
“No… But I want to.” She paused. “I like your leotard… Is it a boy’s one?”
“Course. Boys wear leotards as well, you know.”
“I’m gonna ask my mum for one too…”
So there it was. No problem. The experience emboldened me slightly. One day I took a train into the countryside. I took my ballet outfit in my rucksack, and changed amongst the trees. Then I set myself a dare – there was a small village which could be reached along a footpath. I dared myself to walk there and back again. It was a Monday during half-term. It was very quiet. There was no-one around. So I set off. I was three-quarters of the way to the village. I could see the road, and a baker’s shop on the other side. That was far enough. I turned round to walk back, but, to my horror, I saw approaching, only a couple of hundred yards away, a group of three girls, about my own age. They had been chatting, but one of them must have noticed me at the very instant, and she was pointing. I hesitated for a split second. But there was no way I was walking back towards them now. So I quickened my pace, got to the road – which was deserted – and walked straight across to the baker’s. I could see there were no customers, and I was intending to hide out there and return to the footpath when the girls had gone.
The baker’s door had a loud bell. Immediately a young woman appeared from the back.
“Good afternoon!” she said, politely, “Can I….”
She broke off in mid-sentence, and stared at me, quite rudely I thought. I squirmed. That leotard had never been the roomiest, and I think I had grown a little since I bought it. I felt horribly exposed. The smile of greeting on her face turned into a smile of delight. But she kept her cool.
“Can I help you…er…sir?”
The girls had arrived at the road, but were standing talking. I needed more time.
“Could I have a cream bun, please?” I did like cream buns, and these looked the best.
“Certainly.” She turned sideways. “Julie? Could I have some cream buns out here, please?”
“But there are some there…” I pointed to the display.
“Oh, they’re…this morning’s. Julie will bring you some fresh ones.”
“No need. I…”
But at that moment, the entry bell rang again. I swung round. The three girls were coming into the shop. They stopped in their tracks, and stared. One snorted with laughter. Then they all collapsed, holding onto each other. I tried to look annoyed, but they only curled up the more.
“Here you are Sue. I thought we already had some….” Julie’s voice trailed off, and she too feasted her eyes on me, grabbing Sue’s arm in glee. I thought I was going to die of embarrassment.
I eventually escaped and ran back down the path. I say “eventually”. I can’t tell you the subterfuges they used to keep me in that shop. None of the buns were satisfactory. Would I like an alternative? Maybe this…or this? Did I come from around here? I looked just like Julie’s brother. Maybe I knew him? Now, I’m sure we have some more bags here somewhere. Could I tell them where I got my leotard…her little sister… What’s your name? Oh, what a coincidence…and so on. I resolved never to venture into public again in my leotard. From now on, that was going to be my private pleasure.
And it was. I used to wash it in the bathroom and hang it on my radiator to dry. I bought another – a pink one – in a shop! It was for my sister, you see…a present. And more panties and tights. And I began to want other things, too…a guide uniform…a ball gown… But I always liked my leotard the best.
These feelings never leave you. After we were married, I still kept my girly things. I would sometimes dress up when she was away. I felt guilty about it, and I hid them high up in a cupboard, in a locked suitcase. I told Chris they were my old stuff from football and Scouts. She had no reason to disbelieve me. I often wondered how she’d react. I had a strange feeling she wouldn’t be too shocked. But somehow I never got round to even approaching the subject. I noticed she always laughed at men in drag on television, and I didn’t fancy being laughed at. I mean, this was serious – for me, at least. And I didn’t want to endanger our sex life. Some women get turned off my anything slightly out of the ordinary. As it was, she seemed to like taking the lead – pinning me down and climbing astride me – and though I liked dressing up, it made me slightly uncomfortable. I still had illusions of manliness then.
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Chapter III. In Flagrante
I remember it as if it were yesterday. It was a Saturday. Chris was going to see an ice-skating competition in Ettringham, which was about thirty miles away. Ellie was going with her, and she was doing the driving. Afterwards they planned to dine out. She didn't expect to be back till evening. As she went out the door, she called back.
“Alex? Do you think you could pop out for some more coffee? We’re right out.”
“Will do.”
I was looking forward to my very own girlie day. My collection of outfits had grown since that first yellow leotard. When I felt the urge to dress up, I now had the delightful task of choosing my outfit as well. This particular day was warm. So I decided to skip the tights, and wear long white socks instead. I liked the feeling of them gripping my calves, while my thighs were bare. I chose a recent acquisition – a bright pink leotard with a high round collar, three-quarter length sleeves, and a little skirt attached. Well, not really a skirt, but at least a gesture towards a skirt. I had also taken to applying a little makeup. After I married Chris there was always makeup available on her dressing table, and the temptation was too much for me. Soon after my early experiments with Chris’s, terrified that she should notice, I invested in my own products, which I tucked away neatly with all the other stuff in my private suitcase.
So there I was, all dolled up, a little rouge, pale peach lip gloss, perfume, the lot. It was barely eleven, but I was already feeling hot, and my manhood was straining at the spandex. I forced myself to behave, but I wanted relief very badly. I knew that would mean I would have to change, and wash the soiled clothes, but I didn’t care. I had plenty of other outfits to change into. I was feeling especially febrile that day, so I sat down at my laptop and began to watch one of my favourite videos – yes, you've guessed it, two girls in ballet leotards getting distracted from their exercises and ending up…well, I’m sure you can guess how they ended up. After five minutes I had to pause the video, or my session would have come to a sudden and explosive end, and I wanted to prolong the pleasure as long as possible. My leotard was already spoiled – a wet, slippery patch on the stomach, which I knew was only going to grow as time went on. I resumed. These girls were real ballerinas, lithe and fit and experienced, no doubt of that. And they obviously loved what they were doing. Now they were breathing heavily, and moaning quietly. Too quietly. I turned the sound right up. My gaze was fixed on the screen. I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer. I guess turning up the sound was my undoing. Otherwise I would have heard the women return. I actually cried out loud as I came, as my warm sperm pumped onto my tummy. Chris told me later she had considered interrupting me, but she could see I was enjoying myself so much, and she didn’t want to spoil my fun.
It turned out Ellie’s car had broken down, and as they were going to be so late they thought they might as well blow it out and come back. Oh, yes - I had an audience of two peeping round the door. Though only Ellie had the foresight to whip out her phone and record the episode for posterity.
After my orgasm, I collapsed back in my chair, eyes closed, completely satiated. When I heard Chris’s voice, I nearly had a heart attack.
“Did you get the coffee, darling? We couldn’t find it in the kitchen…”
I leapt to my feet.
“Chris! I…I…I…”
“You didn’t, did you? Never mind. Could you go now? We’ve had a hell of a morning…”
“Look…it’s like this…”
She looked me up and down, and allowed herself the ghost of a smile. Then she glanced at the laptop. “What are those girls up to? Oh, I see… You’ve taken up ballet! What a nice idea! But instead of watching instruction videos, you should have asked me.”
My erection had shrunk to nothing, but the milky juices were oozing through the taut fabric and dripping onto the floor.
“I hope your planning to clean that up…”
Ellie produced a tissue and advanced on me.
“Here, Alex, let me do that.”
I was in such a state of confusion I actually let her start wiping me. All at once I came to my senses and jumped back. “Chris…I…I’m so sorry, I…”
Ellie was looking at the slimy tissue. “I think I’m going to need a few more…”
Face burning, I grabbed my trousers and dashed to the bathroom, locking myself in. I cleaned myself up, then listened at the door till I was sure they had gone downstairs. I crept out, changed into my normal clothes, took a deep breath, and headed down. They were seated at the kitchen table, drinking tea, and replaying Ellie’s video. I had no idea what to expect. Ellie smiled at me wickedly. Chris looked happy and satisfied.
“So that’s what you keep in your little case. I often wondered. But I knew I’d find out one day. What have you done with the things you were wearing?”
“I…er…they’re in the bathroom…”
“Okay. Well, we can sort them out tonight. I’ve got washing to do in any case. Now, Alex, I want you to go upstairs and bring down that suitcase. And don’t leave anything behind. If I find you have…well, it will be the worse for you. Understand?”
“Yes, Chris.”
“Go on, then, my naughty little ballerina.”
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Chapter IV. Alice.
If the discovery of my most carefully-guarded secret had demolished the walls of my soul, then the subsequent exploration of my precious suitcase represented its looting. I was brought face to face with all my pathetic little secrets. The girls took their time, examining each item with malicious and meticulous attention, like experienced torturers. They were clearly enjoying themselves immensely. My only consolation was that I hadn’t been thrown out of the house in the condition they had found me.
“Oh, Ellie! Look at this! It’s beautiful!” She stroked the material.
It was a heavy, lined, brocaded leotard in a beautiful rich green, with a pattern of sequins like a fountain on the chest, a high collar, and little stiff frills around the long arms and the high-cut legs. I had never even worn it. I had been saving it for a special occasion. But not this occasion. They went through all my panties, and then all my tights, from the plain to the sparkly. At the bottom of the case they found a pale blue tutu, still in its packing. And a short pink satin dress, rather plain, the sort of thing a bridesmaid might wear to a modern, non-traditional wedding. And my little stash of digital entertainment, which they decided, to my relief, to explore at a later date.
When they were finished, Chris leant back in her chair and regarded me mischievously - and thoughtfully; I could see she was revelling in the infinite possibilities that had opened up for her.
“Well, well, Alex. Whoever would have thought it?”
I fidgeted uncomfortably and looked at the floor. I could feel their eyes on me.
“My nice, sweet, dutiful husband. Turns out he’s a bit of a pervert. A cute pervert, but a pervert nonetheless. Isn’t he?”
She reached out and took hold of my chin, lifting my head and forcing me to look at her.
“Aren’t you?”
“Y-yes…Chris.”
“And tell Ellie too, please.”
“Tell her…?”
“Tell her you’re a little pervert, who likes to jerk off in girls’ ballet costumes.”
“Yes…I am…”
“Not like that, idiot! Say it, just as I said it. And use her name, please. No, actually I think you should address her as Mistress Ellie. Go on. Quickly!”
“I…I’m a pervert…”
“Little pervert. Start again.”
“I’m a little pervert…who likes to…er, jerk off in girls’ ballet costumes…Mistress Ellie…”
“That’s better. Now, let’s see…” She selected the blue tutu, blue panties and white tights, and handed them to me. “Right. Go up and change into these – don’t forget your pumps – and then come back down. Take your time. Ellie and I have things to discuss. And no wanking, understand?”
“Yes, Chris.”
“What?”
I thought quickly. “Yes, Mistress Chris?”
“That’s better. Now off you go.”
I stayed upstairs as long as I could. Eventually Chris called me.
“Alex? Down here. Now.”
I scurried down. They were now side-by-side on the couch.
“Come here. Hmm, very pretty,” she remarked, fluffing out my skirt. “Kneel there. There, in front of us.”
I knelt.
“Show him, Ellie.”
Ellie had Chris’s laptop on her knees. She turned it round for me to see.
“I’ve downloaded my little video. Would you like to see it?”
I didn’t reply.
“Here we go…”
Ellie must have had a really good phone. The quality was excellent, and there was very little camera shake. They had been standing there longer than I thought. And my face when Chris spoke to me… I was devastated. I started trembling. I waited for the punch line.
“And we’ve taken all your contacts from your phone and your email. It would be the work of a moment to send everyone you know a copy. Work colleagues, friends…I’ll even give a copy to that girl at the restaurant you’re always flirting with… Would you like that?
“No…please, Chris….I’ll….”
“Do anything? We know you will, silly. And the first thing you’ll do is to pose for your picture. That little tutu really is very sweet.” She stood up. “Let’s go outside. The light’s better. Now, I want you to stand in the first position. You know what that is, don’t you? Heels together, feet out.”
They led me into the back garden, and made me stand in front of a flower-bed. First position. Heels together, feet turned outwards, arms curved. Ellie snapped away with her phone.
“And smile please… Come on, Alice…yes, you’re going to be Alice from now on…come on, look happy! That’s it. Perfect.”
Back inside, Ellie scrolled through her photos.
“That’s the one, definitely, Ellie. Yes.”
“There, sent.”
“Sent?” I started to panic.
“Relax, Alice. It’s just for a friend. No worries.”
“What friend?”
Ellie smiled. “My friend. It’s for Robert. I think he’s going to love it!”
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Chapter V. A Delightful Prospect.
I was kept in my tutu dress for the rest of the day. The girls kept me busy, bringing them snacks and drinks, doing various household chores, and when I was not occupied, standing the first position in a corner, ready in case they wanted me. They spent most of the evening at the kitchen table, sipping gin and glued to the laptop, seemingly ordering things online. I shuddered to think what they were up to. In the middle of all this, Ellie got a text from her husband.
“Shall I read it to you, Alice?”
“Yes, please, mistress…”
“Oh, forget all that stuff. We were only joking. Just as long as you behave yourself, do what you’re told, and act respectfully, I think you can just call us by our names. Don’t you, Chris?”
“Yes. But be a good girl, won’t you? So what does he say, Ellie?”
“He says, “Is that Alex? I love the dress. He’s gorgeous!” And a row of hearts. Looks like you’ve got an admirer, Alice. Hold on, I’ll reply… It’s Alice now. She’s dying to see you and show you all her pretty costumes.”
“I don’t understand….”
“Hold on, he's replying…emoji…wide eyes and question marks.” She laughed. “I’ll leave him in suspense.”
“Shall we tell him?” said Chris.
“I think we’d better. Do you want to, or…?”
Chris looked at me smugly. “You see, Alice, Ellie’s had a bit of a problem with her husband. Turns out he’s gay – or thinks he is. Can you believe it? Couldn’t ever admit he had a thing about guys. Or at least, had a crush on one before he met Ellie. So their sex life…well, it’s not what it should be, shall we say. Is it, darling?”
“Could be better. He’s full of doubt about his sexuality. I think he just needs a bit of male company sometimes, sort of reassurance. So you’ve come along at just the right time. I’m hoping the sight of you might, well, spice things up for us a bit.”
“I see… But I’m not gay…”
“Course not, but you do look pretty good in dresses!. I don’t want us to split up over nothing, and neither does he. A meeting with you might clear the air, make him see the funny side. Seems to me he’s just taking the whole thing too seriously.”
Chris winked at me. “Robert’s nice. You won’t have to do anything unpleasant. Just lead him on a bit, then let Ellie take over. Who knows, you two might end up good friends.
“I don’t think so. He’s never shown any interest in me before. And as to anything more…I’ve never even thought of such a thing…”
“Really, Alice?” said Chris. “You secretly dress up as a girl, in pretty little ballerina costumes, you behave like a girl, and you’ve never thought of doing the things girls do? I find that difficult to believe.” She paused, but I said nothing. “Anyway,” she went on, “you don’t have a choice, unless you’d like us to…you know. So get used to the idea. Anyway, we’ve been discussing it, and we feel you need a little more training. Comportment, manners…appropriate compliance - that sort of thing. So I’m sorry to disappoint you, but we’re not going to let you see Robert until next weekend. That way you can get yourself ready, and he can…well, he’ll have a few days of delightful anticipation.”
Ellie forestalled any further discussion by beckoning me over to the table. “Come and have a look. We’ve ordered you some nice new outfits, you lucky girl. See?”
I made my way to the table and sat down beside Ellie. I was still in a daze. Were they really going to do this? It soon became clear, however, that they were perfectly serious.
“Now you’re going to love this, Alice.”
She had pulled up a multicoloured long-sleeved spandex leotard, bright blues and reds and greens. “Ideal for athletics, ballet, beachwear, etc.” the caption said. “Like it?” continued Ellie. “It also had a little matching elasticated skirt. You could even wear it for parties. Imagine it with a choker, some pretty bangles, sparkly tights and Doc Marten’s. Cool!”
I was speechless.
“Now for your first meeting with Robert, we’ve ordered you this. What do you think?”
I was staring at an ensemble that might have been appropriate in a young ladies’ finishing school. A crisp, translucent button-up white blouse, the collar with rounded points, the sleeves full with buttoning cuffs. A scarlet ribbon bowtie. A very short scarlet pleated skirt. White over-the-knee stockings.
“But…”
You’ll have some black patent leather Mary Janes to go with it. Oh, and I know the skirts a little short, so we’ll make sure we get you some tasteful matching panties.”
“And I’m going to book you an appointment at the hairdresser’s,” added Chris. She patted my cheek. “You’re going to look scrumptious!”
“You will,” said Ellie. “Chris has invited me to stay over tonight, and tomorrow we can begin your training.”
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Chapter VI. Vanity.
That night Chris gave me one of her nighties to wear to bed.
“You must start dressing like a girl as a matter of course. And you must start behaving like a girl, and thinking like a girl. If you do those things, you’ll feel much more comfortable in your new role. When it's a girlie day, I'll lay out your outfit by the bed. You will put it on without demur. Is that clear?”
She looked at me with such seriousness that I didn’t dare protest. I frowned, and mumbled a reluctant “yes”.
“What? Speak up, Alice.”
“Yes! Yes! Okay?”
“Good. Now off to bed. You’ve got a busy day tomorrow. I’ll be up later.”
I went upstairs and slipped into the nightie. I think she had perfumed it. It had been such a stressful day that I actually fell asleep at once, and slept soundly till morning. When I awoke, Chris was already downstairs. I could see my clothes on the chair. My pink bridesmaid’s dress. I had very mixed feelings. I was frightened; I was angry with them for treating me like this – blackmailing me; and I was anxious about Robert. But mixed up with those negative things was a weird sort of excitement, deriving from two sources. First, although I was embarrassed that my secret had been discovered, I realised that, for the first time in my life, I would be able to wear girls’ clothes frequently, and in front of others. This was something I had always fantasized about. Second, I no longer had to be furtive, or guilty, or be constantly in a state of moral ambivalence. All responsibility had now been transferred to my ‘mistresses’. There was no argument, no difficult decisions, only easy, abject compliance.
I showered and dressed. I pulled on my panties and tights, and slipped into the dress. The crisp, shiny fabric was cold and slippery against my skin. I shivered. I had only worn this dress once before, and I remembered the difficulty I had had zipping it up. Now I could ask Chris. There was a choice of shoes, and I chose a pair of flat pink leather pumps. Then I went downstairs.
They greeted me pleasantly, as if I was one of their girlfriends. Chris zipped me up. Ellie offered me coffee. I was a bit taken aback at first, but then I realised my training had started already. I felt a rush of relief. They weren’t going to be ordering me about after all. They weren’t going to be my ‘mistresses’ at all. As long as I did my bit. My task was to behave as much like them as possible. It suddenly hit me. This was just what I had always wanted. Dressed as a girl, conducting myself like a girl, and accepted as a girl. Accepted! Could I possibly aspire to such a state? I wanted to try. I began consciously to adopt or mimic female behaviour – posture, movement, mannerisms. I would giggle at their remarks, feign shyness when complimented, speak confidentially; discuss clothes, makeup – hairstyles. They even turned the conversation to men, and I managed somehow to contribute. Chris taught me some basic ballet steps, something I had always resisted, as I felt so graceless next to her. And Ellie helped me with my posture and with adjusting my way of walking. In that first day I learnt some basic principles. But I realised I could only progress with sustained and dedicated practice.
I had to work that week – I’m a web designer – but I arranged to have Friday afternoon off, as my hairdresser’s appointment was at three that day. Ellie came round every evening. On Monday the girls gave me an intensive course in the choice and application of makeup. Of course I had made a few clumsy attempts in the past, but now I was getting to learn techniques. I loved it when they applied lipstick and powder to my face. I loved the feeling, the smell, the textures. It was thrilling and arousing, both physically and in terms of my personal vanity. Chris promised to paint my nails after the hairdresser’s, and I found myself actually looking forward to it. I was in heaven, all except for one thing – Robert. I decided to address the issue head on.
“Ellie. Can you explain what you’re expecting of me when I meet Robert. I mean, am I just intended to be decorative, or stimulating, or what?”
“Are you worried, darling? Don’t be. Robert’s a sweetie. He’s desperate to see you though. I think he fancies you a tiny bit, especially in your little leotard. What do you think, Chris? What should Alice wear at the weekend?”
“Let’s leave that decision for now. You guys are staying for the weekend, right? Alice can show off more than one outfit. Let’s wait and see what arrives this week, and make a choice then.”
“But what’s the idea, exactly? What do you want me to do? How should I behave? I need to know.”
“Just be nice to him. Don’t worry. We’ll tell you what to do.”
“Yeah, relax,” said Ellie. “Flirt with him a bit if you want. Tease him even - see if you can get him going for me. Lately he’s mainly lost interest in sex. But I have a feeling you may be able to rekindle the flame.”
“I doubt it.”
“Suppose I told you that last night we had the best sex we’d had for weeks.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. Thanks to that picture I sent him.”
“What?”
“The picture of you in your tutu.”
“You’re not serious.”
“I told you he said you looked gorgeous.”
“I thought he was joking…”
“Apparently not.”
I wasn’t sure how that made me feel. A little…not uncomfortable…unsettled. It was even sort of flattering… I blushed.
“Alice!” grinned Chris, “Ellie? I do believe our little ballerina likes the idea!”
“Not at all,” I said, in a tone of mildly offended dignity. The truth was, though I wouldn’t have admitted it even to myself, that all the attention, the compliments, the clothes, and now even the admiration of some strange guy, were feeding my vanity, and emboldening the exhibitionist in me.
-
Chapter VII. Flirting.
I worked on my new image all that week. By the time Friday arrived, I was feeling much more relaxed and confident. I had spent a lot of time in front of the mirror, and I was pretty impressed with what I had seen. I couldn’t wait to get my hair done. As to Robert, I was going to knock him out. I imagined his surprise when he saw me in the flesh, in my feminine splendour. I could visualise his reaction. He would gasp, gape at me, and then stammer out some trite compliment. I would smile enigmatically, say nothing, and turn away. I would have him dangling on a string! My fantasies grew wilder. There would be others, too, desperate to be in my company. I would flirt with all of them, submit to none. I was going to discover what it was like to be a beautiful, but unattainable, woman. I would be invited to parties, surrounded by admirers. There would no longer be any necessity to hide. I would be able to flaunt my allure, ensnare with my charms. The fact I was a bloke would make no difference. You didn’t have to be gay to desire a beautiful being. Loads of men fancied transgenders. It was well known. I intended to exploit that, and Robert would be my first guinea-pig. He was going to suffer, and I was going to enjoy every minute!
On Friday afternoon Chris and I discussed my outfit for the evening. Ellie and Robert were arriving about eight, and we would dine together. Chris was going to make coq au vin, and we had laid in a mixed case of wine. Chris favoured the little blouse and skirt outfit, which had arrived that morning. I, on the other hand, really wanted to wear my beautiful green leotard. I knew it wasn’t really appropriate for a dinner party, but that was exactly the point. I had become wilful and conceited and even a little aroused at the thought of Robert’s astonishment when he saw me. Eventually Chris gave in, and I compounded my narcissism by insisting on a frizzy hairdo with green highlights, instead of the wavy, combed look favoured by my wife. I was going to be super cool. I even had pretentions to distracting Robert from Ellie, so he wouldn’t want to sleep with her, and she’d become crazily jealous of me. Serve her right. In the event, things didn’t turn out quite how I had imagined, but I’m telling you about my feelings that Friday afternoon as a warning against such self-obsession.
After we came out of the hairdresser’s I became as demanding as a spoilt child. I wanted green nail polish, and green shoes too, and I insisted we go and shop for them. I was in my normal clothes, of course, but my new hairstyle still attracted some attention. It’s pretty conservative round here. We got the stuff and headed home. Sometime after five I decided I couldn’t wait any longer, and went upstairs to dress. Pale green panties, pale green sparkly tights, my lovely leotard – I called to Chris to come up and zip me in – and my new green shoes. I loved the feeling of tightness as she pulled up the zip and attached the Velcro on the collar. Around six I went down, and Chris did my make-up. I made her apply green eye-shadow, but bright red lip gloss, so my lips would really stand out. I thought that was a particularly clever touch, making my lips the focal point of everything. How could he resist? Then, while she made the dinner, I went back upstairs and spent the time posing in front of the mirror. The leotard fitted me like the peel of an orange – or maybe a lime. It was long in the arms and high in the collar and legs. I brushed the little frills with my hands, making them rustle, and ran my fingers over the sequins and the pleasant texture of the brocade. Finally I dabbed perfume around my neck and on my wrists. All my nervousness had evaporated, and now all I wanted was for our guests to arrive.
The doorbell rang just before eight.
“I’ll get it,” I shouted, and barrelled down the stairs and threw open the door. Ellie and Robert had their smiles already turned on, but Ellie did a double-take, and Robert just stared, open-mouthed. “Come in, guys.” I took their coats and conducted them into the kitchen, where Chris was busy laying the table. Robert, poor thing, couldn’t keep his eyes to himself. He kept surreptitiously stealing peeks at me, in the pretence of admiring the décor – something that had never interested him before – polishing his glasses in between. I hung their coats up, congratulating myself on the impression I had made. I prepared to return to the kitchen. The dinner was ready, and Robert and Ellie had already sat down at the table. First, I peeped through the crack in the kitchen door. Robert was shifting about, and kept shooting glances in my direction. A bottle of wine was uncorked on the table. I saw the opportunity to tease him a little, so I went in and began filling glasses, first Ellie’s, then Chris’s, and finally Robert’s. I stood close to him to pour the wine, letting my body lightly brush against his arm, and my scent envelope him. I took my time, too. I’m sure he was trembling slightly. I walked right round the table to fill my own glass, giving him a good eyeful. Ellie was watching me with a wry smile. She knew exactly what I was up to. When eventually I took my seat, to Robert’s right, I reckon he was properly softened up. Of course, he felt he had to comment on my outfit – it was so outré he couldn’t very well have said nothing.
“Alex…”
“Alice,” corrected Ellie.
“Oh, oh, I’m so sorry… Alice…that’s a…a very b-beautiful outfit you’re wearing…” He trailed off.
“Oh, do you like it? It’s one of my favourites. The material…feel it…”
I extended my arm, and he touched it nervously.
“I’ve got other leotards, too. Haven’t I, darling? Not as heavy as this. I have a pink one, and a very shiny, stretchy yellow one. Perhaps I’ll wear that tomorrow.”
Robert was breathing heavily now. He licked his lips nervously, and took a swig of wine.
“And Chris had just bought me a very pretty outfit, haven’t you, dear?”
“Oh, yes, Robert. It’s just a blouse and skirt – like a little schoolgirl’s uniform, I suppose. The skirt’s rather short for Alice, but I guess she can just get away with it, if she doesn’t jump about too much. Maybe you should wear that tomorrow, dear. With your white tights.”
“Maybe my long socks? I just love the feeling of the air on my thighs…”
Robert gulped. “It sounds…nice.”
His hand was shaking slightly as he cut his chicken.
“Er…Ellie was telling me…you’ve only recently…you know…”
I looked at him innocently, waiting for him to finish.
“…decided to…change…”
I lowered my eyes demurely. “Yes…but I’ve known for a long time. I feel much happier now. All I need to do now is find myself a nice boyfriend!” I added, jokingly.
Robert was seized with a paroxysm of coughing, and had to drain his glass.
“Are you all right, dear?” asked Ellie, with fake concern.
I jumped up and refilled his glass. I rested my hand lightly on his shoulder. “I’ll bring you some water, Robert.
“Th-thank you, Alice. That’s kind of you…”
He looked up into my face with puppy eyes. He lifted his hand off the table for an instant. I swear he was thinking he would like to fondle my butt. But I hadn’t finished with him yet.
-
Chapter VIII. Coffee.
Looking back, it seems incredible that I could have gone from being that secretive, rather shy, cross-dresser, to the bold and flirtatious Alice, in the course of one short week. I suppose the explanation is, that Alice was always there within me, latent and simply waiting to be awoken. However, as it turned out, it was a rather ruder awakening than she may have liked.
When dinner was over, the girls suggested we retire to the lounge. They rose and busied themselves with the coffee, chatting away as usual. I sat talking to Robert. He still seemed distracted. I suggested we go next door and sit down, but he declined.
“I think I’ll just sit here for a bit,” he said. His shirt collar was open, and his neck looked a little flushed.
“Oh…okay…”
“No dear, go and sit with Alice in the lounge,” said Ellie, “so that we can clear the table.”
He didn’t move.
“Go on!”
Reluctantly, he rose, and, turning his back towards me, made his way in a sort of awkward, sideways manner into the room, and sat down on the sofa. There was a newspaper lying next to him, and he quickly picked it up and lay it over his lap, with the pretence of reading it. But not before I had seen the bulge in the front of his jeans! He had a visible erection – and all thanks to me! I had succeeded even beyond my expectations. I sidled up to Ellie and gave her the news.
“Your husband…” I whispered
“Yes?”
“Well let’s put it this way. I don’t think you’re going to be disappointed tonight.”
She stared at me, and then at the figure in the lounge, covering its lap with a newspaper. “What? Are you saying he’s got an…?”
“Yup. A big one.”
Ellie gripped Chris’s arm. “She’s done it.” Chris looked at her with delight.
I was feeling proud of myself. This was real power. “See?” I said. “I knew I could. Now he’s all yours, Ellie.”
“Not so fast, young lady,” said Chris. “You can’t back out now. We’re just getting started. Go sit next to him. Keep it going.”
“Yeah - keep it nice and hard,” whispered Ellie, with a giggle.
I frowned. “Come on, I’ve done my bit…”
“Not quite yet, darling,” said Chris. That serious, no-nonsense tone had come back into her voice. “Now do as your told. Or…” She indicated the laptop. It was on the kitchen windowsill. It was open, and I could see a little image of myself in one corner.
“One touch is all it takes,” smiled Ellie. “Now go and join my husband.”
I hesitated. Ellie reached for the laptop. I got the message. In a moment I was next to Robert on the couch. Chris looked in and dimmed the lights.
“We’ll be in soon…”
I looked straight ahead, but I could feel Robert looking at my thighs. I clamped them together and folded my hands over the front of my leotard. I suddenly felt very vulnerable.
The girls came in, Ellie carrying a tray of coffee. Chris moved the coffee-table to one side, and Ellie put it down.
“You two look very cosy,” said Ellie. “Alice, I’ve told Robert I don’t mind if you have a little cuddle. I know you’re fond of him.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but the gleam in my wife’s eye was enough warning.
“Why don’t you sit on Robert’s lap,” she suggested.
Robert quickly folded the newspaper and laid it aside. He smiled at me encoragingly, but nervously. The front of his jeans was taut over the bulge.
“Go on,” urged Ellie.
Robert put his hands on my waist, and helped me, blushing and frowning, onto his lap. He was digging into me. It must have been very uncomfortable for him, so I moved back and opened my thighs so his manhood lay between them.
“Ooh, you poor thing,” murmured Ellie. She was referring to Robert, not to me. She knelt down in from of us, and placed her hand on the bulge. He groaned, and squirmed a little beneath me. He put his arms around my wait and held me gently.
“I think this needs some room,” Ellie whispered, sympathetically. And then, to my horror, she began to draw down the zip of his fly. She had only unzipped it half way, when it burst out, and stood proud and quivering between my thighs. Robert gasped.
“There, darling, does that feel better? Alice dear, why don’t you close your thighs now. We don’t want it to get cold, do we? That’s right. Nice and tight, please. Good girl.”
I was in a daze. I knew I had to go along with this, and I was frightened where exactly it was going. Also, the feeling of having Robert sandwiched between my thighs, hot and gently throbbing, was beginning to make me feel aroused too. I touched myself gingerly.
“Do we have two stiffies now?” asked Chris, with a laugh. “Well, that promising, don’t you think, Ellie?”
Robert felt harder than ever. He was firmly wedged in the triangular space between the tops of my thighs and my crotch, his juices trickling down the shaft. Ellie leant forward.
“You just want a little attention, don’t you Robert?” she murmured, solicitously. “Here, let me help…”
She reached forward and pressed one fingertip against the slippery underside of the glans, and began to move it gently up and down. He was gripping me tight, and trembling violently. I stared at my clothes with dismay. My tights and the crotch of my leotard were now glistening with his secretions. Surely Ellie wasn’t going to….
But of course she was. Her poor husband was in such a state, it didn’t take very long. She was sliding her fingertip in little circular movements now, making the shaft quiver, and him moan with pleasure. Then all at once I felt him tense, and squeeze me even harder. I turned my face aside just in time, and Ellie drew back. He slid forward on his seat, cried out, and erupted. At each convulsion he thrust violently against me, jerking me up and down, his sperm spurting vertically, and falling like warm, sticky rain. When he eventually subsided, I was smothered. My leotard was ruined, my tights were spattered, and I could feel it in my hair. One drop hung stickily in front of my eyes.
“Oh, my god!” exclaimed Ellie, covering her mouth. “He’s never come like that before…!”
“I think he likes you, Alice,” remarked Chris, quietly.
Robert’s chest was heaving. His hands fell to his sides. I rose gingerly. The sperm was trickling down my torso and legs.
“I’m going to change,” I said, frowning, heading for the door.
“Okay,” said Ellie, contemplating the exhausted Robert. “We’ll clean up here.”
“Darling?” Chris called after me, as I made my way out. “Perhaps the yellow leotard….? Robert would like that, I think…”
-
Is this story dedicated to me? I would be so honored. I know I mentioned ballet in my last post but I’ll give you more of a history of ballet in my adult life.
I take ballet classes as an adult. The whole class is older woman. 50’s and above. All wear workout clothes expect me. I started with sweat pants and a tshirt. Soon moved on to tights and t shirt, then a black unitard and now a white leotard with my black tights over it. I found on Amazon a brand of ballet slippers that make a size 15 in pink. I bought em and told the class “they sent the wrong color”. I also got a plus size woman’s long sleeve leotard that I wear over my black tights.
I bought a pair of white tights to really give me the look of a girl in ballet class with the black leotard but never wore it to class. Because I ordered all these items on Amazon I got all kinds of dance wear recommended to me. I caved when I saw this beautiful pink skirted leotard. I wore the black leotard with white tights and Pink slippers along with the pink leotard to my therapist. She’s understanding and I think enjoys seeing me in them.
-
Yes, SBB - inspired by your personal story. I'm so impressed you're making the fantasy reality - and discovering that it is neither impossible nor humiliating. A lesson to us all. And yes, that pink number is irresistible!
-
Chapter IX. Amongst the Elite.
By the time I’d showered and sorted out my soiled clothes it was eleven. I put on some clean panties and went into the bedroom. Chris came upstairs to tell me that Ellie and Robert had gone to bed, so we might as well do the same. I was feeling pretty upset.
“Why did make me do that? Now he’ll think he can do anything he likes with me!”
“Yes, darling. He will, won’t he,” she mocked me. “Goodness knows what will happen to you next!”
“No! That’s not fair, Chris. I would never have gone along with this if I’d known…what you two were up to. I just wanted to tease him, that’s all. Get him all worked up, and then reject him.”
“Really? You did? What a little bitch you are! A little prick-tease! I think you deserved everything you got.”
“And my leotard’s all spoiled…”
“No it’s not.”
“It is. It’s all slimy and horrid with his stuff…”
“It’ll be fine. I checked. It’s fully washable.”
“It is?”
“Yes. Don’t fuss.”
“Well, I’m done, anyway. Tomorrow I’m going to be Alex again,” I blurted, rebelliously.
Chris glared at me. “You’re not! You’re Alice until Monday morning, young lady, unless you want everyone in the world to know about you. So get used to it!”
“But Chris…” I began.
“And you’ll wear a leotard tomorrow too. And you’ll take our guests a tray of tea at eight. Understand?”
“No, please…”
“Yes. Actually, I think that pink one would be nicer – you know, the one with the little skirt. We’ll save the uniform for Sunday. Now, get those panties off. It’s my turn for some fun.”
And she pushed me back onto the bed and leapt onto me.
I suppose it was the events of the evening. Anyway, we had the most amazing sex session ever. And after we had finished, and were lying in bed side by side, quite exhausted, me cuddling her in that way that women do when they’re pretending to be submissive and adoring, the noises from the next room, where Ellie and Robert were sleeping – except they weren’t sleeping – suggested they too had been affected by the charged atmosphere.
On Saturday morning, Chris helped me dress. Pink panties, pink leotard. My hair still had green streaks, and my nails were still green, so she found me a fresh pair of green tights. I looked like a transgender pixie. She made me sit on the bed like a little kid, and put a new pair of pink trainers on my feet, lacing them up tightly.
“There. A sweet little girl. Robert will be so happy when he sees you. Now go and make their tea.”
“Maybe they’re up already…”
“No. I told them you’d be bringing them tea in bed. They’ll be waiting for you. Off you go.”
I made the tea in a teapot, put it on a tray with two of the best cups, milk and sugar. I even warmed up a couple of croissants. I went up and knocked softly at the door.
“Come in,” said Ellie. I pushed open the door with my foot. They were sitting propped up on the pillows looking very pleased with themselves.
“Alice! That’s a very pretty outfit. Isn’t it, Robert?”
“Robert nodded. “Yes…very…” he said slowly. After the discussion yesterday he clearly hadn’t the slightest idea what I’d be wearing that day. But he seemed pretty happy with what he saw. He was staring at me with assumed innocence, but running his eyes over my body as it they were his hands. I looked for somewhere to put down the tray. The bedside cabinet was cluttered with various objects – including, I noted, a box of condoms. Shame he didn’t wear one of those yesterday evening, I thought. Ellie began to clear it for me. I had to stand there waiting for her, all the while Robert ogling me like a fully paid-up member of the International Society of Professional Lechers. Finally I got to relieve myself of the tray.
“Thank you so much, Alice. That’s very kind of you.”
“No probs. You guys have a peaceful night?”
“Oh…yes. Yes thank you.”
“Sounded like it,” I murmured, as I turned and left the room.
Downstairs, Chris revealed their plans for the day. They – that is, we – were planning to drive to some famous country house I’d never heard of, wander around there for god knows how long, then go for lunch is some posh restaurant, and come back home for a barbecue.
“Don’t tell me…you expect me to go out…like this?”
“Don’t worry, darling. We’ve got you a nice puffy pink hoodie. Once you’ve got that on, you’ll just look like a young girl who wanted to keep her ballet costume on all day.”
“Really? I know I’m on the small side, but…”
“Oh, stop fussing. It’s in the hall cupboard, Go and see.”
I did. Well, maybe it was okay. It was very puffy but quite light. It came down to my thighs. And it had a nice big hood with a drawstring, so I could hide most of my face. Actually, I quite liked it. It had a busy design of pink and red things – completely random things, elephants, flowers, balloons, cups, planets – scattered about on a pink background, and it was trimmed with pink fur – even around the edges of the hood. Did I just confess I like it? Well, there you are. That gives you some idea of what was happening to me. Anyway, it would have been pointless arguing about it.
We set off about ten. We took our car. I’m not into these old houses. See one, you’ve seen the lot. Ten quid to get in, and if you escape the gift shop without losing another ten, you’re lucky. Oh, and the café, with its huge range of undrinkable teas at exorbitant prices, and rude counter-staff. For me, hell would be one of those places, with a path from the gift-shop back to the entrance, guarded by rabid dogs. The only fun I had was when I decided to shed my hoodie in the great hall. You should have seen all those old fogeys stare. Universal outrage – well, except for a few of the women, who seemed to find me quite entertaining.
After that we headed for some posh restaurant Robert knew. Robert was the type who would know a posh restaurant. He isn’t a bad bloke, I guess. But he’s into stuff like that – restaurants, antiques, and so on. I can’t believe Ellie didn’t know he was gay. My theory is she did know, and she married him so he wouldn’t be demanding sex all the time, and she could spend more time with her girlfriends. That was bound to backfire.
The restaurant was okay. Quiet. Too quiet for me. But the food was delicious. The girls tried to engineer me sitting next to Robert, but I was having none of it. I didn’t want his erection popping out while I was eating my sausages. By this time, though, I had lost all my self-consciousness. I left my hoodie in the cloakroom without a second thought. I could feel all the eyes boring into me as we made our way to our table, and for most of our meal. I was feeling quite relaxed about everything for a change. But that was before I found out what surprises the evening held in store…
-
Chapter X. A Little Drink.
It was partly my fault. I was feeling quite proud of myself, and on the drive home the girls were egging me on.
“That was pretty cool, Alice,” said Ellie, “you know, showing off your leotard in front of all those people. Did you see the waitress’s face? I mean, she looked totally gobsmacked.”
“Yeah, but in a good way,” added Chris. “I reckon she fancied you. She certainly acted like it. Calling you “madam” all the time like that, and hovering round to bet a better look.”
“She did, didn’t she,” I replied thoughtfully. “I guess I must have looked quite hot. I like that leotard…I mean, it’s sort of cute, with that little skirt and all, but it’s sexy too. Don’t you think?”
“Very,” said Ellie, firmly.
“Maybe you should give us a little dance tonight,” said Chris. “Show Ellie some of those new ballet steps you’ve learned. How about it?”
“Ooh, yes please! Do…” begged Ellie.
“Nah… I’d be embarrassed…”
“Oh, come on, Alice. I was busy when Chris was showing you those moves. I only caught the tail end. But you looked so…professional. And sexy. It was quite turning me on…. Please?”
She was appealing to my vanity, I knew, and it was my vanity that responded.
“Oh, okay, if you put it like that. But later, you know. And only a couple of minutes.”
“Great! Yes, later Alice. After supper. When you’re feeling chilled…”
We weren’t feeling very hungry when we got home, so we postponed supper and opened a bottle of wine, and sat around chatting. After a few glasses I began to feel quite mellow. I had forgiven them the indignity of the previous evening. I’d even forgiven Robert. Poor guy. It wasn’t his fault he had those feelings. He was as exploited as me, really. When Ellie, who was sitting between us, got up to fetch another bottle of wine, and Robert shifted along slightly towards me, I didn’t even try to move away. In fact, I gave him a reassuring smile.
I think we were into the third bottle when Ellie suggested it would be a good time for me to perform my little exhibition. To tell the truth, and had been hoping someone would remember. The wine had had its effect. I had been thinking how true it was, the things the girls had been saying in the car. I was pretty cute. I remembered the way that waitress had been looking at me. It was pleasant, that feeling of being admired…no, more than that…of people almost devouring you with their eyes. The feeling that really beautiful women, really handsome men, must get every day. Quite unworthy, of course, but…well, it didn’t do any harm to indulge oneself occasionally. I was already feeling mildly aroused. Ellie must have noticed. I knew she found me sexy and attractive. Okay, I’d give her treat. Give all of them a treat. What was it about showing off in my new clothes? It felt so exciting, after all those years of concealment.
I feigned reluctance, of course, but eventually got to my feet. I stood in the middle of the room facing the others. Chris remained seated, but acted as ringmaster, giving me instructions, and correcting my mistakes. I posed, pirouetted, and practised my pliés and my croisés. That was about my limit, but I made the most of it. They were all gazing at me appreciatively. That made me more excited than ever. I pouted seductively. In my new-found self-confidence I had even refreshed my shiny scarlet lip-gloss when we got home. I had had quite a bit to drink, and was moving without constraint. I knew without looking that I was fully erect now. I could feel it quivering slightly under the taut spandex as I moved. It was lying vertically against my tummy, hot and aching. But it was a nice ache, and I didn’t care. I saw Chris and Ellie exchange delighted glances. I didn’t know what effect my cavorting was having on them, but Robert’s state was clear to see.
“She’s good, don’t you think, darling?” Ellie said to him. He could only gulp and mutter something inarticulate in reply. Ellie winked at Chris.
By now I had lost all my inhibitions. Any shyness I might have felt had quite evaporated. Chris obviously realised this.
“Show us some of the exercises I taught you,” she suggested.
Robert shifted uncomfortably. I thought it would be fun to see how far I could push him. I planted my feet slightly apart and began rotating my hips slowly, interspersing the routine with controlled pelvic thrusts. Robert groaned. Ellie put her arm round his shoulders, and reached for his fly. Kissing his ear, she simultaneously unzipped his jeans. His erection jumped out, and she closed her fingers around the shaft.
“Look what you've done to my husband, you little minx,” she said, smiling. “I think you can stop now.”
“Okay.” I was pretty tired by now, anyway. She was using him as a human hand-exerciser, making him gasp at every squeeze. She drew back the foreskin, releasing a flow on juice which trickled down the back of her hand. I sank to my knees, awaiting developments, but keeping my distance.
“Don’t be shy. Come and watch. Come on, come over here.”
“Er, maybe not, Ellie. Remember last night?”
“All right. She removed her hand. You’re in control, then. Okay?”
I wasn’t thinking clearly. I realise that now. I think I had some idea of making him come all over her, as retaliation for what she had done to me. So I shuffled over, till I was kneeling at Robert’s feet. That was when Chris intervened.
“Look at the state of him, Alice. I was right, wasn't I? You are a prick-tease.”
“No…”
“Of course you are. But you’re not getting away with it this time. You’re going to have to take the consequences. Go on – take it in your hand.”
“No! I’m not!” I grasped at straws. “In any case, Ellie wouldn’t like it, would you, Ellie?”
“I don’t mind. I’m not the jealous type.” She said, calmly. “Except when it comes to f***ing. Anything short of that, though, if it pleases my husband, is okay with me.”
I had a sudden instinct to flee. I think Chris must have sensed it. She leapt astride my calves and wrapped one strong arm around my waist, pinning with against the front of the sofa, between Robert’s open legs.
“Stop it, Chris…!”
She withdrew her arm, and gripped my thighs between her knees. She buried the fingers of her left hand in my hair, and wrapped her right around the shaft of Robert’s slippery, swollen manhood, causing him to emit a short cry of surprise.
“Remember the consequences of disobedience,” she hissed in my ear. And with that, she began to force my face towards Robert’s crotch. Robert moaned, and slid down in his seat, until he was a couple of inches from my nose.
“Come on, darling, open,” she wheedled. I tried to resist, but when Ellie rose from beside her husband and walked towards the kitchen, I got frightened, and thought better of it. In fact, she had just gone to bring another bottle of wine, but by the time I realised that, it was too late. I had allowed Chris to push my face downwards, and the firm, slimy head of Robert’s erection slipped easily between my glossy lips, effectively silencing any further protests. He groaned, and began squirming, making it slide back and forth in my mouth. I was aware Ellie had put down the bottle, and was resting her phone on one arm of the couch.
“There…good girl,” cooed Chris, releasing the shaft, but keeping hold of my hair. “Is that nice?”
“You okay, darling?” Ellie asked her husband.
“Oh…god…”
“I think he is,” murmured Chris.
I should have been disgusted. I should have been ashamed. But I had had too much to drink, and in any case I knew there was no escape - that I must resign myself to this ultimate act of obeisance. After a minute or so, Chris let go of my hair, climbed off me, and knelt beside me, with one hand on the back of my neck, just in case. As I got used to the feeling of having Robert in my mouth, my vanity came into play once again. I wanted to avoid a double humiliation – in the first place, that of being in this position at all - but also that of leaving Robert unsatisfied. I knew the women would mock me for that, and even punish me – maybe even circulate the video Ellie was making. I had to do a good job, however much I felt repelled by the act. So I reached up and held Robert’s hard prick like an ice-cream cone, and applied myself to its sensitive head, using the tip of my tongue as Elie had used her finger the evening before. I soon had him begging me not to stop, and gripping the edges of the cushions with both hands. I had no intention of stopping, but equally I knew I mustn’t make him come prematurely, so periodically I popped it out of my mouth and gave it a few soft kisses, or ran my tongue gently up its length. At these times he would relax a little, and once murmured my name and touched my arm in a gesture either of gratitude or friendship. The air was charged with sexual tension, and it felt as if Chris and Ellie were both holding their breath.
As I persevered with my task, I was disappointed to discover that my own erection had not wilted. Why was my body not behaving in sympathy with my mind? I felt annoyed with myself, but I had to concentrate on the job in hand. By now his juices were flowing steadily into my mouth, and sliding down my throat. I kept him on the edge for several long minutes, until I felt justified in bringing matters to a climax. Then I began to masturbate him with my mouth, holding his foreskin gently between my teeth while sliding my stretched lips back and forth, my head bobbing, all the while keeping the tip of my tongue pressed against the cleft on the underside of the glans. After a few seconds I felt him tense. He grabbed a handful of my hair with one hand, and let out a cry. An instant later his hot sperm was pumping into my mouth, faster than I could swallow. It burst out of my lips and streamed down my chin and down my neck. I thought I was going to choke. I pulled back instinctively, tearing my hair from Robert’s grasp. He came out of my mouth with an audible plop. I struggled to rise, but he was still coming, and before I could get out of the way I took one massive spurt on my cheek and another right on the front of my leotard. I toppled back onto my butt. Ellie whooped with delight. Oh, nice to know I didn’t disappoint you, I thought. I sat there trying to wipe the slime off my face.
If I had expected any congratulations for my performance I was disappointed. Ellie continued to film me, sitting on the floor looking dishevelled and indignant, while Chris attended to the gasping Robert.
“How was it Robert? Was it all right? Just sit there quietly – I’ll get you another glass of wine.”
“Don’t bother to offer me one, will you...darling? I said sarcastically.
“Wait your turn Alice. Robert’s the one who’s just had an orgasm.”
“He has? Oh, I didn’t realise.”
But they ignored me.
-
Chapter XI. Sunday Morning.
So, another leotard ruined! At least I made sure I got to the bathroom first. I had a long shower, ignoring the knocks at the door, and changed into jeans and a blouse. When I came downstairs again the three of them were gathered round Ellis phone, re-watching the video.
“Alice! Come and see this! It’s spectacular,” laughed Chris.
“No thanks.”
“It’s those shiny red lips of yours,” grinned Ellie, “and the fact you look like you’re really enjoying yourself.”
“Well I didn’t.”
“Pity. Robert did – didn’t you, darling?”
Robert looked at me with a sort of half-chummy, half-embarrassed, smile. I ignored him.
“You’re his little bitch now, Alice,” mocked Chris, “his little weekend bit-on-the-side.”
“Yeah, right.”
“No – you are,” said Ellie. “It the answer to our problem. He’ll be mine in the week, but you’ll be able to share him at weekends.”
“Yes. No sex, mind,” continued Chris, “just your lovely, versatile lips. Isn’t that right, Robert?”
Robert nodded, and looked at me hopefully. I stared at them. “You’re actually serious, aren’t you. You must be delusional!”
There was a short silence. Then Ellie spoke.
“You know…this film…you really ought to watch it, Alice. I’ll send it to you. This film…it seems such a shame to keep it to ourselves. I wonder…do you think…if we put it online…do you think…anyone would recognise you?”
That was it. “F*** the lot of you,” I shouted. “I’m going to bed!” And I stormed out. I couldn’t think of anything else to do. As I reached the landing, Chris came into the hallway and called after me, “Darling? I’ll put out your blouse and skirt for tomorrow. Robert can’t wait to see you in them…”
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Epilogue
That was two months ago. Now I live a “normal” life during the week, but whereas at the weekends I used to go to the pub with my mates, now we normally spend them with Ellie and Robert. Robert’s a changed man – relaxed, chatty and sociable. So he should be after all the effort I’ve put in – been obliged to put in. He likes to choose my outfits, and he’s always looking for new ones for me. Now he wants to introduce me to a couple of his new gay friends. Next weekend the girls are going out clubbing, and I’m having dinner with all three of them. Robert wants me to wear my little blouse and skirt again, with the matching panties. He tells me his friends can’t wait to meet me. I hope that’s the only thing they can’t wait to do. Just don’t ask me to relate what happens…
The End.
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Thank you for another delightful story. would love to know how 'Alice' got on with Robert and his friends. Love all your stories and waiting for next chapters about Mitch and 'Phillipa'