Bettering Their Marriage

This is a STORY, A FANTASY, not real life, it is fiction. It deals with female domination and a feminized man. It deals with explicit sexual acts and language. Having said that, this chapter is pretty tame but if it continues things will hot up in future installments.

This is actually one of the very first erotic stories I ever finished, and nearly became the first one I posted on Literotica, but it ended up on a back burner, I recently went back to it, changed it up a little and decided to give it a try.

If you don't like this type of story, don't read it.

If you are not of age, don't read it.

Everyone in the story is over 18 years old. Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. This story includes scenes of graphic sex needed to further the plot, and should NOT be read by minors or anyone that might be offended by such filth.

The Cast:

Jeff - The husband. Story is told from his point of view.

Mary – his wife

Cheryl – his boss

I was standing in the corner of our bedroom, my feet slightly spread and in contact with the baseboards on either side of the corner, and my shoulders touching the walls. My nose was a few inches from the corner, my hands behind my back.

I was wearing what can only be described as a baby-doll nighty in pale blue, and some slightly darker blue satin bloomer panties that had ties which were loosely tightened around my thighs. There were lots of ruffles and lace at the waist and hems. A small bow between my 'breasts' and at the front of the bloomers.

Behind me I could hear my wife alternately moaning, panting and grunting, the woman in bed with her was making similar noises, but also giving commands like, "yes, there, harder, softer, more, and good girl."

As I stood, under orders not to turn around or make any noise or even to move, my mind wandered back to when we both started on the path that led to this.

My wife and I had been married about 14 years. We married soon after finishing up at University. We didn't have any children, at first by choice, and then it turned out that it would be very improbable for her to have any. We weren't overly distressed, as neither of us really wanted a child, but mostly we tried due to pressure from parents.

We had moved several times due to my career and Mary never had difficulty finding a position wherever we moved as she could always find work in an IT department.

We had an active sex life the first 8 or so years of marriage and then just before the last move, and for a few years after, we sort of slowed down.

We both wanted to spice things up again, and after some frank talks and some lurid emails and text messages exchanged when one or the other of us was traveling for business, we decided we would try some kinkier approaches to get things going again.

At first we just read spicy stories on line or in magazines to each other, we tried to make up our own, then we even acted out some. We went through different scenarios that we had read about.

We tried letting Mary dress sexier in public, and we even had sex once in a deserted parking lot at night. She didn't seem to get off on flashing glimpses of legs and panties, or so she said, but we both got off with some mild bondage games, at first taking turns being the one tied up.

Then several weeks we experimented with her being submissive, never wearing anything but sexy lingerie in the house, calling me master, masturbating in front of me at my command etc. A few times I spanked her, the first light slaps she liked, but it just hurt too much after that.

I enjoyed playing the dominant husband at some level, but it was a struggle to always know what to do, to think up things for us, or her, to do. After a few weeks we gave it up. I suggested we try again with her in charge. She suggested we don't go 24/7 but build it up gradually.

She didn't seem to want me go around naked or in my underwear at first. But after a while we were dressing differently, I was usually in casual attire, often in short trousers and t-shirt that morphed to cut off sweat pants and t-shirt. Meanwhile she would maintain a higher standard, never formal, but usually in skirts and blouse.

Anyone observing us around the house would easily be able to see that she was in charge, not just my serving her, but by the contrast in our clothing. She would occasionally have me strip to my underwear, but usually commented on how unflattering my boxers and t-shirts were.

I spent a lot of time giving her foot rubs, and while I felt silly kneeling and deferring to her, I found it was a lot easier to be told what to do than to think of things to tell her to do.

Supper was one of those things. Breakfast were simple and often hurried, and we ate lunch at work, but we liked to have a sit-down meal for supper. I've always been easy to please in the food department and for our entire marriage would just as soon have her choose what to have for dinner.

When she was playing at being a slave girl I had to think up the menus, and had a hard time doing it. While I would have been happy with cheese sandwiches or beans on toast every night, I knew Mary wouldn't.

So I started learning to cook more complicated things for dinner. It was fun, and Mary joked a few times that she would have to send me to cooking classes at the local Community College.

Another thing we found out was that even though it hurt like the devil, I would get very erect when she spanked me. She would get excited herself when she realized that I was getting hard as she spanked my bare bottom.

She would often talk in a sultry sexy voice as she spanked me and that added to the pleasure for both of us. She would say things like:

"What a naughty little boy you are, getting all hard for me, you must like being over my knee, I bet you do things wrong just to make me spank you."

We talked candidly about our experiments in submission and domination, and both of us agreed that it was a lot of fun and that her being the dominant one seemed to work better.

So after a trial period of a month or so we agreed that we would keep it up, not every night, but fairly often, and either of us could call things off at any time. She seemed to jump into her role so naturally that I wondered if she had ever done it before.

The times when we were 'normal' were less and less frequent. Occasionally Mary would text me at work, telling me to meet her at a restaurant, that she had reserved a table.

On those occasions I would usually arrive first and would treat her as a lady, rising when she arrived, pulling out her chair, rising when she left for the ladies room, and again when she came back. She loved it.

Mary also began to expect that kind of treatment at home. I was acting more and more like a 19th century servant than a husband. Until it became time for fun. Then I became a sex slave. Our sex live was active and exciting, and she was training me as well.

Soon just a quiet mention in the morning that she thought I had been a bad boy and might need some punishment that evening was enough to keep my libido at full throttle all day. She seemed to enjoy it as well.

While we were still experimenting Mary started a completely new and non sexual hobby. She got a sewing machine, and started taking classes at a local fabric store. Before long she started making things, she tried to start with a new shirt for me, but it didn't work out very well.

Then she started doing more basic things, she sewed up new curtains to replace the ones that came with the house, stuff like that. She joked about having to crawl before she could walk, and wanted to practice more and work her way up to more difficult items.

Then one day she gave me a pair of boxers. They were obviously modeled after the ones I wore, had the usual panel in the back that made them comfortable if a little baggy. There were two differences, one was that they used a very thin elastic waistband, it actually looked just like the waistband from her panties. The other difference was that there wasn't a front fly opening. Just a narrow seam.

She told me that she thought the waistband would be more comfortable, and that since I just pulled the waistband down to pee, and never actually poked through it except by accident that I wouldn't mind since the fly was more difficult to make. I hated to make a fuss since she had so obviously made such an effort to make something useful that I smiled and told her they were great.

I did have a little problem with the material. It was a very pastel green color with slightly darker tiny green flowers over them. I tried them on, and they were comfortable, a little tight, not at the waist, but just below because there wasn't as much gathering at the waistband as on a conventional pair.

She smiled and knelt in front of me to check them, and said she could probably fix that, and maybe find a way to do away with the seam in front. I didn't know about that, but she was thrilled to do something for me and I let it go. I wore them to bed that night with my usual t-shirt. She made the comment that she could probably make me some really sexy pajamas too.

At about the same time she seemed to initiate sex between us more and more, and more often than not it was with her in a dominant role. The punishments began to pick up, more spankings, not hard, but more often.

What had started as experiments to liven up and revitalize our sex life was more and more taking on an actual lifestyle change.

Now it wasn't just her making up playful "mistakes" that I made, but she would recite back to me things I had done during the last few days, such as not keeping her car filled with gas, or being a few days late mowing the lawn.

Things like that started to escalate until I would be punished for not deferring to her when we chose something to watch on TV, or not pulling out her chair when we sat down to dinner, eventually even starting to eat before she gave me permission would result in punishment.

It wasn't as playful as before, but it was sex and that was something I enjoyed and was happy to please her if it meant that we were enjoying each other more.

She began to dress me more and more in things she made. The boxers she made replaced the store bought ones in my underwear drawer, she made pajamas for me to wear at night instead of just boxers and t-shirt. The boxers and PJs that she made for me were made with more and more feminine looking cloth, as well as style.

The long legged PJs only went down my legs about half way between knee and ankle, except for a pair that was loose and gathered at both waist and ankles – it looked like something to be worn in a harem, and was in a sheer silky pink color, translucent rather than opaque.

The tops she made were at first just loose pullover shirts, but gradually began to be more and more feminine in design. When I first questioned her about the types and colors of cloth and the designs, she said that she was purchasing cloth that was on sale or remnants of the things she was making for herself or for her sister or friends at work. That was the first time I realized just how much she was doing.

Withing six months the tops she made for me were lightweight cotton or satiny, with gathers under my pecs and plunging necklines, some even had very narrow shoulder straps. What had started as small gathers or fancy stitching at hems and borders became ruffles and even lace.

It happened a little at a time, until I took a look at my wardrobe and realized that I was wearing were feminine pajamas and nighties or harem outfits with halter tops. I was lounging around the house in the evenings after my shower in baby-doll nighties and wearing tap panties or bikini briefs everyday at work. My white undershirts that I would wear under my shirts at work were only slightly toned down camisoles.

When I questioned her about this, she just laughed and told me that I looked cute dressed like that and that she was turned on just thinking about what I wore. I had to admit that we were enjoying a very active sex life, but I was completely and totally in a submissive role now, punishment was spanking with her hand, or more often with a light paddle, as well as being humiliated at home.

During bedroom games she had started having me wear a collar. Prior to actual sex I had to act as a footstool or end table when she was in the mood, or just standing in the corner with my nose to the wall. Punished or not, I now wore what to all intents and purposes feminine lingerie.

Our lovemaking had changed also. More and more I satisfied her orally, spending long periods between her legs. I began using larger and larger vibrators and dildos on her. I often watched her satisfy herself while I was tied up on the other side of the bed, or standing facing the corner of the bedroom.

My orgasms were more and more as a result of masturbating, often while she talked to me, watching me and pulling on my nipples, kissing my neck or running her tongue into my ears or biting my lobes. Sometimes she would jack my penis, pulling on it while talking to me in a low sexy tone. I won't say that I didn't like it, because I did, but I would have preferred actual sex with her, or at least oral sex from her.

In either scenario it was very common for her to be playing with my anus, at first just teasing me, then more and more penetrating me with her fingers, talking softly in my ear, telling me what a good boy I was, how sexy it was for her to see me in sexy nighties and underwear, how I would make such a sexy looking little girl.

Eventually it became a rare occasion for me to actually penetrate her, and then she was on top of me, usually with me tied spread-eagled on the bed, and after having her sitting on my face for long periods of time. Always talking to me, telling me how sexy I was all prettied up. At some point she started to tell me how she wanted me to wear makeup and how she wanted me to wear my hair longer and be a sexy girl for her.

The anal play was there all the time, and soon she began to "stretch me out" with larger and larger butt plugs and eventually dildos. It hurt at first, but I got used to the feeling, then began to look forward to it.

I went along with this, having been gradually brought to this point. Looking back at it I think of the story about a frog sitting in a pan of water that is slowly heated up, it eventually gets boiled because it slowly got used to the heat. Had it been initially thrown into a pan of boiling water it would have jumped out.

When we chatted and talked about things after sex, cuddling up and she repeatedly told me how she was so turned on by dominating me. At first when I questioned the way things were going she used phrases like "It turns me on to see you like this", "I am so aroused by you submitting to me".

Those phrases slowly changed character to variations of "This makes me so happy with you", and "This keeps our marriage fresh", and by degrees morphed into various subtle phrases that I felt meant: "If we are to remain together" and "If you want to keep me".

It was apparent to me by then that I had given up all control over my life both in the bedroom and out. The only place that I had any say about my actions was a work, but that was soon to change as well.

One night during a hot and heavy sex session, a rare lovemaking session when actual intercourse took place, she was astride me, fucking me hard as she worked her way to orgasm. She was as usual very vocal, telling me how she liked me all prettied up for her, how she loved to see her pretty girl so eager to please her, then she made a comment that surprised and humiliated me at the same time.

She said."mmmmm, its getting harder and harder to feel you inside me after using those wonderful toys I have."

I was shocked that she would say something like that, even though I had noticed it too, she had become more and more stretched out, and immediately after a session with one of her toys there just wasn't a sense of tightness on the rare occasions that I was allowed inside of her pussy.

She had never said anything like that before, in fact up till then she had always assured me that even with all the girly underwear and nightwear that I wore now, that I was still "all man" inside and that whatever she said during sex, she knew that I was still her macho man.

After that comment things started changing again. At first I noticed that I was allowed to penetrate her more and more often. That was really nice, but it seemed like I could feel her around me less and less, and she always commented about that.

Although when she did orgasm I could feel her clench around me. I wondered at that point if she could purposely relax herself to the point of looseness, but I couldn't think of a reason to do that. By then just having my cock in her wasn't enough to make her cum, one of us had to play with her clit.

It was about this time that she started to require that I clean her out after coming inside her. There wasn't an actual command though, she just shifted herself forward on me until she was straddling my head and lowered her pussy to my face, sometimes not saying anything, other times just a whispered "please lick me sweetheart, I haven't cum yet" or something like that.

The first time wasn't really surprising, she had mentioned it several times previously, comments like:

"When I fuck you I hardly come any more, I should get you to eat me out after you cum."

Or variations. I knew that eventually I would do it. She was giving me time to get used to the idea.

"I know you'll love it, and it will be so sexy, I'll be so turned on, and it'll be another way to prove how much you love me."

It started slowly, not every time, but just every once in a while. I wanted her to enjoy sex, and did she ever love it when I was sucking my own cum out of her! Each time she assured me that she loved me, and that knowing that I was going to do it exited her all the more.

I soon got used to the taste of my own sperm, or lack of taste, it seemed to me that it was mostly bland, although the smell was distinctly similar to bleach. It was the slimy texture that was the most unpleasant part. She also started making me lick up my cum when she jacked me off.

The first time she caught it in her other hand, then held it to my lips.

"Come on baby, it is so sexy when you clean me out, this is going to be a big turn on too. Please. You're already used to the taste."

From then on I always cleaned up my cum, she laughed and clapped her hands and told me how much she loved me when I did. One day she was sitting up against the headboard as I knelt on the bed next to her, I was stroking myself to her comments about how sexy I looked, about how much she loved me when I 'showed off' for her.

By then I had been trained to let her know when I was going to cum, and this time was no exception. She immediately turned around onto her tummy and spread her legs, she slid backward, a leg on each side of me. She looked so sexy then.

She had a beautiful bottom, not just for her age, but a beautiful sexy bottom, period. There it was just in front of me, her legs spread. I could see her pussy, shaved, bare, wet, her taint, and, just barely, her ass, it was a sexy little rosebud, even at her age it looked snug and tight, it was a light rosy brown.

"Squirt on my bottom honey, squirt on my bottom!"

I did, I shot a huge load out, I tried to aim it from one luscious cheek to the other, but some fell between.

"Oh, that feels so sexy, so hot and sexy, hurry up, clean it off, lick it up before it gets cold, hurry, oh that is so sexy honey."

I did it, I bent over and started licking her, each cheek and then between them, some had dribbled down her taint and I spread her cheeks even further and licked there. A few ropes where above her little rosebud, trailing from the very top of her crack to right on her ass.