I sit in the salon and think back over the changes of the past year. My long honey blonde hair has been styled and flows nicely. My long nails have a new French manicure. As I caress my body I can feel the smoothness of my freshly waxed arms and legs.
My pink blouse matches my transparent chiffon saree and the outline of my microfibre bra is subtly visible.The colour of my bangles match those of the my diamond studded ear rings.My diamond pendant mangalsutra fits snugly around my thin neck.
Anyone looking at me would see a gorgeous woman and housewife; obviously well kept. It was not always the case. In fact I have not always been a woman.
A little over a year ago I was a happily married man. My wife, Priya,was attractive in an athletic way. She was a woman people would describe as "handsome" with her strong features. She had just been notified that an uncle she barely knew had passed away. He had left her everything, including a house, a big bank balance and ownership of his consulting company.
"I can't believe it," she said, reading the legal notice again.
"I'm sorry, honey," I said.
"I hardly knew him. It's hard to feel sad. I just can't stop thinking about the money," she said, "I'm rich." There was a certain ownership and a subtle assertion in the way she said it.
After a few weeks of preparation, we were prepared to move into the new home that had been willed to my wife. I had quit my job. We had sold our house and most of our belongings.
While I was driving the several hours to our new home the idea began to form in my mind. I had always been a closet crossdresser. I had never had the courage to tell my wife. Priya had decided that, as a way to feel that she earned her good fortune, she would directly run her new company instead of selling it off or hiring a president. She had been on the phone constantly in preparation. She was on her cell phone then talking with the company accountants.
"I don't know if I can do this," she said after hanging up.
"Of course you can, honey. You'll be great."
"I've just been out of the business world for so long, and these guys are all arrogant macho jerks," she said, and I planted the first seed.
"Maybe you need to go in even tougher than them; show them who is boss," I said.
"You're so right!" She responded.
We arrived at our amazing new home with its gated entrance, pool, tennis court, detached six car garage and every indulgence money could buy.
After reviewing the cars parked in the garage, Priya announced she would take the Mahindra Bolero as her day to day vehicle; reasoning that it would reinforce her tough business image. I absolutely supported that. That night as she was unpacking her clothes, I pressed the issue.
"Honey, your clothes won't do. Those sharks will laugh you out of your own boardroom."
"What do you mean?" She asked.
"You can't go in there in a saree and blouse. You have to present an image of power."
"You're so right, honey. We'll go shopping tomorrow."
At the mall the next day, Priya rejected everything she found in each woman's department. Soon we found ourselves in a men's store, and Priya was admiring a nice navy blue shirt and crispy black trousers.
"That's what I need!" She said.
"Well, that would certainly make a statement."
"It's perfect. I'll scare the shit out of those idiots"
Some time later we left the store with several custom tailored suits, braces, monogrammed shirts, power ties and clunky men's shoes. Priya was practically gloating but stopped in the middle of the mall.
"This won't work," she said.
"Why not dear?" I asked.
"Lingerie!" She practically shouted it.
"What do you mean?"
"No matter how strong I look in my shirts and trouser, I'll feel weak knowing I'm wearing pink satin panties."
I smiled and agreed that she was absolutely right. We left with several pairs of male underwear and cotton T-shirts.
That night she wandered around the house in her jockeys and a t-shirt and drinking beer.
"God, I feel so strong!" She said. She had removed all her makeup and jewelry. "This hair has got to go," she continued.
The next day she came home in black slacks, a navy blue polo shirt, men's slip on loafers, and her brown hair cut short and slicked back.
Without makeup, I felt she did start to look like a man. In the polo shirt her very small breasts now looked like a good set of pecs. She grabbed me around the waist and kissed me deeply. As I responded, she grabbed my ass and told me what she was going to do to me later. I melted in her arms.
A couple days later we were walking along the street holding hands. Priya was dressed in khakis and an shirt. A car full of teenagers drove past and yelled "Fucking Gays" at us. This seemed to please Priya immensely.
"Those dumb fuckers thought I was a guy!" She exulted. She had taken to swearing a lot.
"Yes, dear," I replied demurely.
I helped her dress for her first day of work. She put on a pair of white BVD's, T-shirt, black cotton socks, her black double breasted suit, a white monogrammed shirt with gold cuff links, and black imported loafers. As soon as she drove away in her hummer,I put on my hidden wig which I had managed to buy online secretly. I put on some of her makeup and a pair of blue cotton panties and bra she no longer wore and fantasized about my "husband" going off to work.
"Baby, I'm home!" She yelled as she came in the door that night. I was in the kitchen making dinner, and she came up behind me, grabbed me around the waist and nuzzled my neck.
"Those dickheads didn't know what hit them," she said.
"I knew you'd be wonderful, darling," I replied, "dinner's almost ready.
Go put your feet up and I'll bring you a beer."
This continued on for several weeks. I assumed the role of housewife in everything but appearance, and Priya exuberantly assumed the role of "man of the house." She began directing me on what to do, how to dress and definitely took the aggressive role in our lovemaking. I would lay quietly in bed as she fondled and caressed me and eventually mounted me; always on top. During the day, while she was at work, I would dress up as the housewife I had become but always changed just before Priya came home. Meanwhile I had also grown my hair long naturally which seemed to please Priya even more. She also did not seem to mind that my chest was growing flabby as I sat home all day. I suspected that it was gynecomastia, but who cares Meanwhile I encouraged Priya to start lifting weights. She took the advice promptly and started going to the gym on a daily basis.Soon she became massive. As she stood in front of the mirror one day, I was pleasantly surprised to find how muscular she looked.
Looked like the beer and protein shakes she has been taking were working off.
Her breast had all but disappeared
One day, one of the zee news shows had an episode about a movie where a
couple had swapped roles and genders to escape mafia. I thought it was the perfect
opportunity to go to the next step and recorded it on VCR. I had it running in
on TV when Priya came home. I brought her a Heineken and told her to relax while I finished dinner.
That night Priya was in bed in her boxers and T-shirt when I came out of the bathroom. She had a strange grin on her face. I noticed one of her old brown silk nightgowns on the bed. She looked at it pointedly then at me. I picked it up and pulled it over my head; feeling its silky smoothness as it fell around me. I had of course worn it many times before. I stood trying to look nervous.
"You look so hot, baby," Priya said and pulled me onto the bed.
The sex that night was fabulous. Priya kept running her hands up and
down my satin covered body and telling me how sexy I was. That was the first time she spread my legs, and when he truly became my husband in my mind. I decided to think of him a Pritam
The next morning I kept my nightgown on while I prepared breakfast.
Pritam came into the kitchen and pulled me to him; shoving his tongue deep into my mouth. I hungrily sucked it as he rubbed my ass. That was Pritams' first "quickie" as he fucked me on a kitchen chair, kissed me and left for work.
I could have probably gone all the way then but wanted to be careful.
That day I waxed my whole body smooth using strips which he did not need anymore.
When Pritam came home I was wearing just jeans and a T-shirt but had pink satin panties and bra on underneath. I had splashed some perfume on as well. He looked almost disappointed to see me. I snuggled against him on the couch as we watched television. As soon as his roving hand got inside my jeans and found my satin panties, my jeans were soon off and he was making love to me on the couch. I began moaning and found that the more I moaned and squealed, the more he grunted and thrust harder. My wife had truly become a man; even turned on by satisfying his woman.
The next day I made a salon appointment. I entered as a man but left as a woman. My eyebrows were plucked. My hair tied in an attractive ponytail fashion. My nails were lengthened and polished.
My makeup was elegant and alluring; befitting my position as wife of a wealthy man.
As I strutted down the sidewalk,the first time I had ever been outside dressed, I could feel the weight of my double D cup breast forms. Also, the new package between my legs was causing a little discomfort but I couldn't wait to show it to my husband I did some more shopping and hurried home for my husband.
I was in the bedroom when Pritam came home. "I'm in the bedroom, darling," I called when he yelled for me.
I was dressed in a red silk gown, matching bra and panties, ruby red lipstick, pink pearl ear rings and maskara. My ample cleavage showed through my gown. I stood posing as Pritam walked in, and smiled seductively as he stood staring at me.
"Do you approve my darling husband?" I cooed.
He apparently did because he pushed me onto the bed and lay on top of me. He kissed me and fondled me, and I was in heaven.
"Wait darling. I have another surprise for you," I gasped as he kissed my neck.
I had him stand in front of the full length mirror, and I kneeled beside him. Looking in the mirror, I saw a powerful, handsome man with his sexy, obedient woman. I unfastened his belt and lowered his pants and boxers. Then I pulled a box from under the bed and put a very realistic looking strap on cock on him. I stroked it with my dainty feminine hands as he admired himself in the mirror.
"Do you like it, darling?" I asked as I kissed it softly, leaving red lipstick marks on it.
He responded by grabbing my long hair and gently but firmly guiding my mouth onto his cock. It was my first blow job. After a few minutes I could taste his "cum" in my mouth
Soon our clothes were off. He gasped when he saw my flat crotch and soon realised that just like him I was wearing prosthetic genitalia as well He then proceeded to fuck me in every way I could imagine possible making me feel like a real woman.
I fell asleep in his strong arms with his cock pressing against me.
I awake from my reverie and think I need to hurry. My husband will be home soon.
Comments