He'd been left back at his car by the two women and was heading home to his wife. So far so good. Trouble was he carried a nylon pink babydoll nightie on a satin hanger with matching panties attached and under his shirt wore a pink camisole, pink matching panties and garter under his pants. He had no socks, but in their place wore silk stockings. Other than that, well, he was just the same old husband who'd left home that morning -- or was he?

He pulled into the drive and was distressed to see his wife’s car parked in front of the garage. He'd not be able to sneak into the house without his neighbor Diane seeing him. A sexy woman of 28. Great shape, divorced, hot, always flirting with him. They'd several times been coming close to doing something, both held back by something, he wasn't certain what.

Yup, she'd seen the car pull up and here she was again waiting for him to alight.

"Hi, sexy!" she called crossing the lawn to greet him.

Uncertain what to do, acutely aware all of a sudden of his female garments, he just stood there like a dunce until she got close and exclaimed "What have you there? Something sexy for the wife?"

"Uhh -- well -- uhh." He just couldn’t seem to get words out as he turned bright red with embarrassment. All of a sudden it was obvious from the look in her eyes that she'd glimpsee his sexy pink underthings. Her eyes flicked searchingly across his body toward his feet which clearly displayed some rather attractive nylons. She saw his feet and ankles bare of hair and smooth. "Don’t tell me that’s for you, Mike?" She shrieked out in loud laughter. "Are you one of those fellows who’s into wearing female clothing. Are you a -- a transvestite?" She was beside herself with the sudden revelation.

"I really have to go, Diane." Mike scurried toward the house.

"Alright, honey. By golly, if I'd known sooner maybe we could've.....but maybe you can come over later and try on something sexy for me!" she said with a laugh as she headed back towards her house, her imagination already running riot with possibilities. Trouble with Mike before, so far as she'd been concerned, was he behaved so damn aggressively. She'd had it with that kinda man. Just a pain and a bore. Now, something a little kinky, something a little feminine. The way he'd stood there tongue-tied and let her dominate for once, that was a big turn-on. They could have some fun together, depending upon his wife not interfering, of course.

Pat had seen him arrive and was waiting in the hall. "What did Diane want?" she asked as he walked through the door.

"Oh -- nothing much." He was hoping to reach the bedroom without her noticing anything. He wasn’t that lucky.

She spied the silky clothing. "What do you have there? Are those for me?"

Things began to turn into a nightmare. Mike had been programmed by the dominant Rhonda not to lie to his wife and try as he might to lie found himself saying: "No, dear, they’re for me."

"Now what do you mean by that?" She came across the room to look closer. "Are those what I think they are?"

"It’s my nightie, he admitted against his will. "I have to wear it to bed tonight!"

"The hell you are!" Pat said getting a little more than perturbed. She saw the feminine clothing peeking from beneath his masculine attire. "What's going on here?"

"It’s a long story." Mike's voice shook. "Maybe I ought to get you a drink before I tell it."

"Maybe you ought." She stood staring open-mouthed at her usually macho husband as laying his nightie on the table he went into the kitchen to prepare his wife’s pink lemonade whilst she took an amazed closer look at the feminine flimsies he had brought home. "What's gotten INTO you?" she called into the kitchen.

"I’ll tell you everything" he said, re-entering the room and handing her the drink. "First drink this down, then we’ll talk."

She took a deep swig of the drink to calm herself down and within moments the same far-away look overtook her as had overtaken her husband back at the bar.

He looked at her closely. "How do you feel?"

"I’m fine" she said as she drifted far away into a fantasy world of the mind-bending drug.

"I'm going to play you some music dear." He took the tape Rhonda had given him out of his pocket and put it in the player. "Let me put these earphones on your ears so you can hear better."

His wife heard a voice that began carring her into a world she had never known existed: I am Mistress Rhonda. Your husband is my slave -- he is becoming my slave girl -- just as you are becoming my slave girl. Close your eyes -- let the magic fill your body -- listen to my voice -- drift farther and farther into my web of sin -- let yourself go -- you are mine.

Pat listened with her eyes closed as the instructions went on and Mike watched in fascination as she began to rub and squeeze her breasts, the voice continuing in her ears: We are going to turn Mikey into Michelle, and you shall assist. My little slave girl, Patty, is going to help. Michelle is no longer your husband -- she is now my toy. The very thought of turning your husband into a girl you as nothing ever has. You feel the tingle in your breasts traveling down toward your wet pussy. Unbutton your blouse.... Her husband watched as she began to unbutton her blouse and toy with her nipples, becoming aroused rapidly, nipples enlarging, hardening, her body moving sinuously. One hand slid down to her crotch, rubbing through her jeans. She was on heat, on the verge of climaxing already. Pinch your nipples -- feel the heat rise as you get ready to feminize your sissy husband. He is MINE, you know -- YOU are mine. you BOTH belong to me now. Say it!

 As Pat sat playing with her nipples and squeezing her pussy she suddenly said out loud "I belong to you. We both belong to you" and her husband's stomach turned as he realized the drug had worked on his wife as it had upon him only this time he was the one who assisting in Rhonada's programming and it was his wife who was being conditioned - conditioned by the tape was conditioning to further enslave him.

Pat abruptly took off the headphones, looked sweetly at her husband and told him authoritatively "Take off those ugly male clothes."

Though wanting to argue, Mike found he could no more resist her than he could Rhonda. Each was now programmed to play a game for a Mistress not even present.

He slipped off his shirt and pants and stood before his wife in the cami, panties, garter and stockings.

"My!" she said, "aren’t we the pretty one! But I think we need some makeup -- don’t you Michelle?"

"No, please don't" Mike said weakly as she took his hand and led him to her vanity.

For the next half hour she applied just the right amount of makeup to turn him into a feminine sort man. Lips reddened, nails shiny red, cheeks blushed, eyes defined, body powdered and perfumed. "And now for the nightie" she said gathering up the pretty diaphanous garment he'd brought home. "Put this on for me."

Obediently, submissively he slid off the stockings, beginning to feel very aroused. Down with the panties, the air cool on his backside making him aware of it as he never had before, the touch of his hands, of the satin stroking, making him want to open up, somehow, like a woman, with passive hunger. His cock stood hard yet he felt confused, accustomed to aggressively taking, plunging it in, yet finding that impulse muted and overcome by a stronger sense of passivity. He looked at Pat who nodded abruptly toward the nightie and matching panties: "Put it on before I warm your ass!" He slid on the panties and nightie which didn’t quite cover the panties, jutting out with the enormous rigid hardon he'd developed.

"My! You are a pretty girl. Now go out and get my evening paper!"

"No, please no, Patty" he moaned. "Don’t make me do that. Diane's always out looking for me! She'll see."

"GO!"

 He went towards the door to make the long walk to the mailbox, situated next Diane's where their drives met. It was still light. He groaned to himself and his hardon subsided. This was something worse than awful. It couldn't be happening. He must be still in the bar or outside in his car sleeping off too much whisky.

Oh, it was happening alright. "My God" he heard from behind as, cringing, he slid the newspaper from the box afraid to look over his shoulder. "I really don’t know about you any more" said Diane stepping outside her front door a few paces and examining him up and dow as he scurried, like a shy woman caught in her nightie by a male neighbour, back toward his house. "It looks to me like Patty's finally wearing the pants in that house, and you the panties!" She gave a hearty laugh. "It's about time. You were such a prick, if the truth be told. You'll be more than ever welcome in my house, Mikey. Drop in and see me tomorrow when Patty's out." She turned back into her house. Yes, she'd been becoming tired of men's aggressive pushy ways for some time. A fine male body like Mikey's feminized and submissive could be just what she'd been developing a need for.

Scampering back into the house like a frightened virgin Mike cried to his wife "Why did you make me do that?"

"Because you’re our slave and you must be shown! Now get that pantied ass of yours to bed!"

He'd never heard such a tone from her and dropping the paper dropped the paper he hurried into the bedroom with Patty on his tail. She gave him a slap on the rump to help him on his way and he began to get into the bed when she told him to stop.

"Before you hit the sack maybe I ought to tan that sissy ass of yours!"

He couldn't believe his ears. Even his mother hadn't slapped his backside since he was knee high. Patty had always been the submissive one in their relationship, he the boss.

She plumped down upon her vanity stool and demanded "Come here. Bend over my knee!"

Mike found himself impelled toward his wife. He bent over her knee as she picked up a hairbrush and struck his panty-covered ass. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! The brush stung like the dickens. "Ouch, ouch, Patty" he yelped.

"You don’t know how long I’ve waited to do this, all the shit I've taken from you” she said with a great satisfaction. "Let's see how red I can paint you. Butt-naked, Michelle."

She drew his panties down to his knees. The feeling of being exposed was awful, the fabric held his knees together degradingly and a sense of helplessness surged as she lifted the nightie out of her way. Oh, waiting, waiting for the horrible sting as she began spanking again, and yet the soft warmth of her thighs erotic upon his belly. He wanted to give himself to her and yet didn't want to be hurt, nor dominated and degraded like this. It was confusing.

"Ah, you bastard - you little bitch" she said bringing the hairbrush down hard and spanked the hell out of her husband, releasing anger held in so long she'd forgotten it was there. It felt wonderful. For her. He was soon yelping loudly with each blow, then begging her "Stop, Stop, Stop", trying to shield his stinging rump with his hand which she rapped so hard on the knuckles with the wooden side of the brush that he desisted, had to submit to being spanked. Submit. Though now tears began to flow. Still she kept slapping him hard, telling him what a bitch he'd been, and what a loose slut that she was going to teach a lesson. Soon he was sobbing deeply, moaning, calling for her to cease. She stopped. But still she gave him no warmth or sympathy. "Now. Get in bed!" she told him sternly.

Watching him get in, cowed, she grinned, disrobed quickly and got in behind him, cuddling up against his back as he lay curled on his side still sobbing. "I think you belong in panties!" she told him, giving him a sympathetic hug at last. "From now on this is how it’s going to be for you."

Pressed against the smooth shaved male body in nightie made her excited and she began to stroke and caress it. The skin of her once virile husband now felt feminine to the touch. While she, she who had always been submissive felt aggressive. Taking his shoulders she rolled him over onto his back and began to kiss his lips. He'd never been a kissy kind of guy, said it was for sissies. Well, now he responded to her kisses and curious to discover if he still became hard, she reached down to fondle his cock. It was hard alright. One of the world's best toys, if truth be told. Problem for a woman being mostly what was attached to the other end. Tonight she let herself go, feeling its contours outside the panties, luxuriously stroking her hand along the silken length. In two minutes he came in the panties, "Oh-oh-oh" body jerking uncontrollably with the ejaculation which had been building up denied release that entire long evening, spunk pumping out and out, enough to fill a shot glass.

"Naughty GIRL!" Patty said with a laugh, feeling the wetness. "Now you’re going to have to sleep that way!" Pinching one of his nipples so hard he squealed, she turned on her side and fell asleep.

In the morning he awoke, rolled over and looked for his wife. The bed was empty. She was in the kitchen drinking the pink lemonade from the dominatrix Rhonda. After drinking she sat down and listened to the tapes, just as the tape had instructed her the previous evening. Her programming was continuing perfectly.

Feeling his cum-hardened panties Mike recalled the evening before with a shock. Time to quit this nonsense, whatever it was. He headed straight for the shower to freshen up for a new start. It was there he got another and worse shock. His nipples were sensitive and swollen, the entire area around swollen. Chest? You could almost say he had the beginnings of breasts! Feeling along his body he thought his hips had gained some weight and his ass seemed a little rounder, bigger! Looking in the mirror he was certain. "What the hell is going", he wondered. Hurrying his shower he rushed out to find his wife.

"Look at this!"

Removing the headphones she sat on the sofa surveying her husband’s naked body. Somehow she didn't feel surprised. It seemed right and proper to her now. "Your tits look like mine when I was 12 years old" she said matter-of-factly. "Looks like you're taking on a little more feminine shape."

"What are we going to do about it?" Mike asked in panic.

"You're going to put on panties, a blouse and short skirt and go back to Mistress Rhonda's house."

"Please, dear -- don’t do this to us" Mike pleaded, his masculine resolve and reserve seeming to have entirely dissolved during the night.

"Get going, Michelle -- before I spank you again!" Taking his elbow she walked him briskly upstairs, and pulled from her drawer fresh panties, a satin blouse and a flared pleated short skirt. The panties he put on while with arms folded she watched with a sardonic grin. When he hesitated over the blouse she playfully darted a hand in between his arms and pinched his nipples.

They were extremely sensitive indeed. He flinched and tried to protect them but she got in two more wicked pinches. "Ow! Patty! That hurt." But he was aroused too, and feeling embarrased turned his back so she shouldn't see his swelling panties, hastily donning the sexy blouse to protect his nipples. Now the skirt. It barely covered the panties. This was too much. "No!" He stopped. Something was turning in him. He was finding strength to revolt against this tyranny. "I'd not going to do this."

Before he knew what was happening she'd grabbed him by the ear, dragged him squawking to her vanity stool, pulled him over her knee. Fiercely she dragged his panties down and instead of resisting, he felt unable to stop her, even had a hard-on yet again. Till her hand fell upon his cheeks, still sore from the previous night.

"Ugh" he grunted, still trying to keep masculine reserve against pain. Yet the hand stung more than he could have imagined a small hand like his wife's could and as the spanks continued, moving from one cheek to the other, higher, lower, back to the center, finding sensitive parts of his inner thigh, he found himself squealing like a girl.

Spanks harder made him begin beg "Oh, please, Patty, I'm sorry, please stop, please, I'll wear the skirt." Patty did not stop until he was in tears, just as the tape had instructed her to should he refuse to do what he was told. This time there were no kind pats, hugs or cock-stroking to follow. She brusquely handed handed him a tissue. "Dry your eyes, baby, then DRESS." He obeyed. "Before you go, drop these off with Diane next door." She handed him a bundle he recognized as all his trousers and underpants. "Ask her to take them to the charity drop off box when she passes this morning."

"I can't, Patty" he moaned, but to no avail, for he knew he must and would do whatever she told him.

Mike-Michelle crossed the lawn to his neighbor, his long, shapely legs lovely below the sweet flared skirt which, flouncing with each graceful hip-swaying step, showed red panties beneath. His legs were more feminine. He/she looked extremely sexy, the kind of creature it embarrassed a fellow to look at he got so publicly horny. He realized that himself and wanted to cringe, while at the same time some curious pride made him want to hold himself belly in, tits out, and walk prettily. He could count himself lucky, he thought, that Patty wasn't sending him into the house of some big horny black guy with a morning hardon who'd thrust him forward across the kitchen table and shaft the ass off him.

With anxiety he rang the bell then stood back waiting for the door to open. Diane was still in her nightgown -- a frilly, see-through thing displaying her gorgeous body.

"Mikey! What IS going on? Well, you best come on in before other neighbours get to talking about me too." She felt a rush of desire as she looked the femininized man up and down, closely examining his smooth body. "Come in, come in!"

Inside they stood in the livingroom facing each other. Mike-Michelle could see her arousal and, said awkwardly, wishing he were there as his old self, feeling powerless to do anything the way he was now. "Patty asked if you'd drop these off at the charity box on the way by."

Examining the bundle Diane was shocked to realize it comprised Mike's masculine attire. "Won't you be needing any of them anymore?" She looked really puzzled. "You want me to destroy these things?" she asked, concern entering her voice. "This is going too far. Is some outside person doing this to you?"

Mike felt desperate, wondered if she could save him yet felt afraid to ask. "Look, Diane, I just need you to get rid these things for me."

It was his most critical moment. The point of no return beyond which there was no-one to save him. Searching his eyes Diane saw his indecision and helplessness and taking his hand and led him into her bedroom and through into her bathroom where the lighting was good and the mirrors would enable her to examine better what was happening. He really didn’t want to go. He was afraid Patty would punish him, and besides his cock was responding to the amazing figure in diaphanous nightie before him. Though he couldn't see it he knew it was stretching out his red panties beneath the flared skirt which now seemed so super-sexy he felt in danger of ejaculating as Diane turned and touched his blouse around the breast area with both hands.

"I thought so" she said. Expertly she had the buttons undone in a moment, opened the blouse, pulled it down over his shoulders and left it there as she examined his growing breasts. "You're developing breasts." She put her hands on his hips, felt his backside, turned him around and lifted the skirt and felt more closely. "Your fanny too. You're going girlie." Then she saw the enormous jutting hardon forcing the panties out and giggled. "Not entirely. My God, Mike, this is weird, but this whole scene really excites me! You look great as a girl. Gahd! I never wanted you more."

"Patty's started calling me Michelle" he said helplessly.

She put her arms on mike’s shoulders and let them drift down to his sensitive tits. As she began to fondle them his body began to writhe in intense arousal. "You are hot, honey” she said, becoming more aroused herself. Looking deeply into his eyes she saw his passivity and her own dominance rose to the surface. Kissing him full on the mouth she drew him out of the bathroom to her bed, pushed him back so he fell backward onto it, pulled the red panties off his stiff, enormously swollen member, and not even bothering to remove her own panties just pulled them aside and impalled herself upon it, supporting herself with her hands upon his tits, playing the nipples with her fingers as she rode him up and down.

So hot was she, hot and wet, she came in minutes. Her contractions as she climaxed, gasping, falling onto the semi-feminine chest beneath her, brought Mike-Michelle off, his semen more copious than hitherto, and the hot jets spurting inside her brought Diane off again in an orgasm that lasted and lasted for them both. She lay collapsed upon his chest for some time, then roused herself and silently went, dazed by the climax and the strange goings-on, into her bathroom, into the shower. After a moment Mike opened his eyes, silently rose from the bed, went straight to his car and drove to Mistress Rhonda's.

to be continued