It wasn't what she said; it was the way she said it that got him to do everything she commanded. It wasn't that he couldn't overpower her...after all, he was a man of six feet, and she was a woman half a foot shorter and 100 pounds lighter.
It was like a teenaged son having a confrontation with his mother. He could overpower her, but he wouldn't because, well, because she was his mother. Neil could overpower this woman, but he wouldn't because, well, because she was his lover.
She had measured him very carefully about six weeks ago now, chest, waist, hips, not just the circumference measurements, but also the vertical ones, chest to waist, crotch to waist, etc, until she had it just right. Now the package had arrived in the morning mail and she had instructed him to go to the bedroom and strip naked and wait for her. He stood there now with nothing on but a wedding ring and waited. He was embarrassed, not just because he was naked, but because of his erection. He couldn't will it down. She could do this to him, just because of his addiction to his fetish. She knew it and he knew it, and there was nothing he could do about it, but there was a lot that she could do with it.
He waited like a dog in a kennel, finally sitting on the edge of the bed where he had thrown his skirt and blouse, straightening each and admiring the cut and femininity of them. He couldn't remember the last time he wore male clothes. Was it the Christmas party? That was the last time he had seen his friends. He had politely declined the Super-bowl party in January, numerous boys-night-out dates, and in April a golf outing. They didn't phone any more now and he was fine with that, as his life had changed.
It had all started with the fire. Well, that's actually when it all ended, depending on one's vantage point. Jade, his wife, had always liked to see him in women's clothes, loved to dress him up and apply make-up and do his hair. She admitted to being somewhat bisexual (somewhat?), but she wanted the best of both worlds in one body, and that body was his. At least it used to be his. This particular day in early January, she had laid out his lingerie and clothing for him to wear, did his make-up and then took him into the greenhouse which was attached to the living room in their foothills estate. She calmly put shackles around his wrists and ankles and locked them shut.
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