Sisterly Advice
Eric toiled in the kitchen, scrubbing the bottom of the kitchen sink for the second time that day to remove some gunk he'd missed earlier. Rinsing and drying followed. The sink needed to shine for Julia's inspection when she returned home from work. Perfection would be demanded.
It had been three days since Julia had declared that they were now in a female lead marriage. Everyday since had been a challenge in humility and service for Eric. As the homemaker, there was housework that Julia expected him to complete each day which she inspected in the evenings and often added to.
The inspections were painful and demeaning. As she combed through the apartment there was the inevitable frown of disappointment that told him he had failed on something. Often the frown was accompanied by hurtful comments and instructions on how to improve or 'do it right'.
Yesterday, she'd gotten so upset with him for a grease stain in the sink, from some sausages he'd cooked for breakfast, that she'd actually taken away the power cord from his computer as a punishment. He missed another important engagement with his guild and lied using the same half-truth about 'computer problems' he'd relied on before to cover his shame. What else could he do? Tell people that Julia unplugged him for failing to clean the sink to her satisfaction? It was unthinkable.
Eric furrowed his brow in frustration. The threat of cutting him off financially and in the bedroom was daunting, plenty to blackmail him with. That she used it so freely seemed cruel. But, there was something else developing that was even more worrisome. He wasn't sure what it was. A certain attitude from her? A bolder confidence? Maybe the way she carried or comported herself? Whatever it was, it seemed to be effecting him, making him more... compliant to her. It was like she simply expected that he recognize her authority over him and he was. He felt it anytime he was with her now and it seemed to be getting worse, more intense. If it continued...
He shook his head and took a deep breath trying to clear his mind of troubling thoughts. It was well into the afternoon, time to focus. He needed to finish his cleaning before Julia came home. He stepped back from the sink, gave the kitchen a final look, and decided to move on. Another, even more degrading, task was waiting.
Walking into the bathroom, Eric stared at the washbasin with ambivalence, shaking his head at the task before him. A dozen of Julia's panties were soaking in the basin waiting for him to clean them. He felt humiliated at the prospect.
He'd dug them out of her hamper earlier, feeling odd and a bit perverse the entire time. Now they were waiting for him to hand scrub them as Julia had directed. Eric grimaced with disgust. What type of man would agree to hand scrub his wife's panties? What did that make him?
He fought back his feelings, there was a job to do. Julia expected her panties to be cleaned and she expected him to clean them.
Leaning over the basin, he stared at the sudsy water and wet, delicate panties. He had to admit, they were tantalizing in a way. He couldn't help but think of Julia's lovely, sweet womanhood looking at them.
He reached a hand out then stopped, hovering just inches over the soaking panties. He was struggling inside. Would doing this change him somehow? Was he about to pass some unspoken line into a lower level of servitude? He shook his head as he lowered his fingers ever closer towards Julia's intimates. Like it or not, Julia had told him to do it. Refusing her wasn't really an option. Slowly, his face twisted into a partial grimace, he dropped his hand into the water, pulled a pair out, and stared at them while water and suds drizzled away back into the basin. He felt a pleasing twitch in his pants suddenly. The panty was exotic, sexy, utterly female. Tiny, bikini panties, black lace with a decorative, red bow on the front. Thinking about Julia wearing them, hour upon hour, against her naked pussy was making him stiff.
Eric groaned in frustration. He had to remind himself that there was a job to do. Julia would expect to see clean and dry panties in a handful of hours.
Eric lowered them back to the water and began to slowly, gently, rub at the crotch of the garment with his fingers. He continued cleaning, rubbing and scrubbing at every inch, taking his time, continuing until he believed Julia would be pleased. It felt wrong to be doing it, shameful, but some small part of him was confusingly enjoying it too, almost pleased that Julia was making him do it for some perverse reason.
After the first panty, he did the rest in turn. He rinsed them afterwards, gently squeezed the water out, and pressed them between some fluffy white towels to further dry them. Finally, they were hung from little hooks with clothespins on the ends designed for air drying such things. When he was done, a dozen panties were adorning their shower.
Eric felt somehow diminished at the end of it. It was like another piece of his manhood had been taken. Maybe that was part of Julia's plan, to drain away his manhood bit by bit. If it continued what would be left?
He became increasingly distressed as he pondered his future in Julia's female lead marriage, staring at her sexy panties like they were indictments, each one proclaiming the demise of his masculinity. The fact that he was rock-hard after being forced to hand wash her dirty panties just made it all worse. Did she know how excited it would make him? How could he permit this to continue?
He wandered out of the bathroom in a conflicted fog of loss and arousal. Where Julia was taking them just had to be wrong, didn't it? Eric crossed over to the couch and plopped down.
Julia had become like a force of nature. Escaping his predicament and returning their marriage to something more normal seemed impossible. Getting a job would help for certain, it might be part of the answer but it didn't seem likely that Julia would surrender their female lead marriage that easily.
He sat there stewing for a time when it finally occurred to him that he needed to somehow talk to somebody about the situation. He desperately needed some perspective, some advice. But who to go to?
Lucas just wouldn't understand what was happening, not on any level. It would be mortifying to tell him the things that Julia had done to him. To tell any of the guys he knew that his wife had literally taken control over everything, had turned him into a homemaker and was now making him hand wash her soiled panties was beyond humiliating. There was just no way to tell that to other guys. He'd be declared a wimp or sissy or maybe worse. He'd lose every friend he had.
Then, as he sat there almost ready to abandon hope that he might find someone to commiserate with he unexpectedly thought of his sister. Emily wouldn't be his first choice as a confidant, they weren't really close. She did care about family though and he thought he could trust her.
He wavered for a bit, then before he could convince himself not to, he grabbed his phone, looked her up in his family contacts, and hit the call button. It began to ring. His anxiety immediately spiked. He was having second thoughts. How could he even consider discussing his plight with his sister? He decided to hang up...
"Hello?" Emily said.
"Em?" Eric replied hesitantly.
"Eric? That you?" Emily asked.
He thought about just hanging up, maybe pretend it was a mistake, an accidental dialing or something.
"Eric? Something wrong?" she asked.
"Yeah," he replied, the uncertainty clear in his voice.
"What's going on? Did something happen? Is everybody okay?" she asked.
Eric felt a flood of emotion rising. He caught his breath as his eyes began to moisten. "No. Not really," he choked out, struggling to regain composure.
"Eric, what's going on?" she demanded firmly.
"I'm... having problems," he said slowly, "at home."
"Eric, what are you talking about? At home? What do you mean? Julia? You having problems with Julia?"
