One weekend a month of satiny gender bending: The following month
Male/female - married - bondage - femdom - crossdressing - sissy - gagged - tied - submissive - teasing - wife - husband
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It was almost a month to the day. I could tell late in the week that her visitor had arrived. Her mood darkened and she seemed standoffish. Again, I am sorry for her menstrual agonies, but I had little to contribute. I stayed on my side of the bed and waited for the weekend.
Friday night rolled around. After a delicious dinner and a couple of drinks, she shot me a lecherous look. "Ready to play?"
In our inner sanctum, she proudly produced my new lingerie set: black briefs with ribbons at the hips and a matching black bra with huge cups. I stepped into the shiny briefs. My erection pressed against the fabric, and of course, there was little room for my balls. I was delightfully uncomfortable.
My maiden voyage in a bra: I put arms through the straps, she pulled the bra back on my chest and then fastened it for me. Two foam inserts soon followed and voila, I was modeling my lingerie set like a well-endowed model.
"I'm not sure what to do about the face," she mused. "I adore my manly man; I can't imagine you ever being hairless. You won't be a pretty looking girl."
I hugged her, our breasts mashing against each other. "Thank you. I feel fantastic. I wish I was prettier for you, but I feel awesome."
In anticipation, I had shaved my legs for the first time ever. I figured if anyone asked, I could claim a skin condition. But I knew one of the first orders of this sissy business would be to pull on some queen-sized nylons.
Naked on the edge of the bed, I rolled up each leg as I had seen her do a million times, then slowly worked the sheer fabric up. When finished, I thought about sausages and their casings. She praised my good work, then chastised me for my growing erection.
"Your little friend there is already leaking," she pointed out. I was presented with a thin sanitary pad, and told to put it in my panties, in an appropriate spot.
With a well-worn scarf, she bound my wrists behind me. Handcuffs at my elbows pulled my arms in more, and seemingly, my chest puffed out further. She roped my ankles together, and then my thighs.
From her top drawer she fished 2 of her own panties. With a gleam in her eye, she slowly stuffed them into my open willing mouth. Bright blue vet tape followed, wrapped repeatedly around my head, securing the stuffing into place. I moaned and grunted appreciatively.
A length of rope secured my ankles up near my hands in a well-practiced hogtie. I rubbed my hips against the bed top, trying to find some relief for my tightly packed member. But she stopped that: she tipped me over onto my side. Thoughtfully, my queen started one of our favorite bondage movies, and then escaped to her bathroom for a long and steamy bath.
I felt like one of the hundreds of models I had ogled over the years: Stripped to a bra and panty set, glossy pantyhose, and hogtied on a huge bed, my mouth packed and well gagged. I squirmed in my bondage, excited by the movie, wondering how long I could last. Would my bride grant me release tonight?
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I pulled fruitlessly at the silken wrap around my wrists. With my trapped tongue, I poked at the sodden mass filling my mouth. I tried and failed to roll over on my front, to selfishly rub my hips against the bedding. She had me well and truly hogtied.
I did manage to squirm around in a position to see my reflection in the vanity mirror. The vision back was of an Amazonian size and not much to look at. But if I squinted, I could see just the black of the new lingerie, the bright blue band gagging my mouth. Was I terribly different than the model on the TV, herself straining to get loose from meters and meters of white rope?
Linda returned from her bath, a cloud of steam following her into the bedroom. She wore her long, lovely dressing gown, the tips of her hair wet.
"You don't fool me for a moment, you are loving this," she murmured, feeling my hot neck and upper chest. I've always evidenced this primal sex flush.
"Pretty baby," she offered, and spritzed me with her favorite floral cologne. The scent on her would drive me wild, it had much the same effect radiating from my warm body.
I squealed and grunted unintelligently, shaking my hands impotently behind me. Linda undid a knot and released me from the constraining hog tie. I extended my bound silken legs across the bedding. She also unfastened the cuffs from my elbows, affording me a bit more comfort.
She brushed her long hair, looking down at my state. I struggled for her amusement. As a man, I was generally taller than my wife. It felt oddly exciting in the moment as she towered over me.
"Poor baby." She sat and pulled my head into her lap. She then carefully began brushing my short hair.
"Now sweetie, I don't want you think that this is about you. It's about the money," she said in an unusual posh accent. "Your daddy agreed to pay the ransom, but we all understand it takes a while to get together that much cash. So, you and I are going to be together tonight. And tied as you are, I don't think you'll be getting much sleep."
I was loving this turn of the game! Her slow hair brushing felt delicious, and I moaned appreciatively.
"You like that? I'm glad... Don't be scared. You understand we had to strip you, to make you more compliant with our wants. I think you are too shy to run barefoot through the woods dressed like this."
I carefully nodded, meek and amenable.
"I see you have a lovely figure. Young girls do. You'll appreciate these firm breasts once you see them start to sag, like mine." She fondled one of my breasts. I half-heartedly pretended to pull away, with no success. She massaged the full padded boob, and I could feel her efforts on my own erect nipple.
"You think my breasts sag?" Linda snapped at me, suddenly angry. "You didn't deny it. You think your tits are so much better than mine?"
