Reversals Ch. 11

Wife and Homemaker

Several days passed as Julia continued reordering her marriage, furthering the domination and control over her submissive, his old life fading into the past as she shaped and redefined him to her liking. For Julia, it had become surprisingly easy and natural to treat him with increasing disdain and cruelty with everything she did to him.

Eric glanced at the kitchen clock, worried, each minute bringing him closer to what he knew would be a difficult, likely humiliating evening. A guest was coming. Julia had invited her coworker Samantha home for dinner, a meal he was expected to cook and serve.

He had known for a few days, but it didn't make it any easier. If anything, it was more difficult. Julia's words, just a few nights before, were a painful reminder of how she felt about him. "I don't think it's too much to ask my wife to help support my career. I've given you plenty of notice. I even picked out the food already. The least you can do is prepare it. I don't expect complaints from you." With that, she had rejected all his concerns about playing hostess for the evening. He couldn't stop thinking about how dismissive and hurtful it had been, the word 'wife' being an especially cruel, unforgettable stab.

She had used the word several other times too, making certain to drill in his new status as her wife, making it clear she didn't think of him as a husband anymore, not even a man for that matter. It was a bitter pill to swallow but then everything had gotten worse after the tattoo. Being marked as her property had emboldened her to treat him like some lowly servant or maybe something even worse.

In addition to a growing list of household chores, nightly foot rubs had become routine. Shower duties had begun too. He had to bathe her, soaping her up in the shower and wiping her down with a large sponge while she moved under the falling water. Shampooing her long hair and massaging her scalp had quickly followed as did working in conditioners by carefully combing it into her wet, glistening mane. The last couple times she had him service her on his knees too, the shower pouring water over them as she twisted her hands in his hair, painfully directing his mouth to satisfy her lust. He'd simply been used for her pleasure with nothing offered in return. He wasn't even allowed to touch himself with the threat of being put in a cock cage if he dared.

It was during the last time he bathed her that she gave him another duty, one involving both of them, one that made him worry deeply about her future plans. He grimaced thinking about it then looked down at the red nail enamel and shinny top coat covering his nails, shaking his head in frustration, hardly believing she was doing this to him. With nail polish, they looked surprisingly and disturbingly feminine. He hated how girly they looked but needed to get used to it because, for now at least, Julia had ordered he do them daily, expecting him to learn how to do her nails by practicing on himself first!

He took a deep breath for courage, trying to think of it as just another task, fanning his fingers out, checking each nail for nicks or flaws. They weren't salon perfect by any means but after watching dozens of videos online and spending hours practicing they looked decent. He polished them per Julia's instructions after she left for work, after cleaning up the dishes from breakfast. All the layers were applied as required - under coat, nail color, and shiny top coat. They glistened a bright red, just like Julia's much longer, shaped nails did. Thinking on it, he couldn't recall a single day when Julia's sexy nails weren't some bright hue of red, just another detail she used to heighten her beauty and attractiveness, her sexual power.

Oddly, his own nails were giving rise to some peculiar, erotic feeling for some bizarre reason. He clenched his hands into tight fists and tried to dismiss the feeling but it persisted as he caught sight of his pretty thumbs. It was unnerving! He suddenly threw his hands down to his sides, out of sight, feeling ashamed. Was he getting turned on by his own polished nails or was it being forced by Julia to polish them!? Either way, it seemed shameful. He just wanted Julia to get home to inspect the work as soon as possible, only then was he allowed to remove the polish. He certainly didn't want fingers smelling like nail polish remover when Samantha arrived for dinner.

Upset, he retreated to his computer and just stared at it for a bit trying to clear his head, each heart beat throbbing at his temples, punctuating one dark thought after another. He powered up the computer and quickly jumped into his game, hoping to hide from the real world with all it's problems for a time, just like he had for so many months before Julia caught him in all the lies.

The moment his avatar came into view he smiled. He must have spent hundreds upon hundreds of hours playing as a muscle bound hero able to smite the enemies around him like gnats. If only the real world was so easy to master, he thought.

At first, the game seemed to be calming his jangled nerves, it was something else to focus on, a place where he was powerful and in control of the world around him. Dozens of foes were dispatched in a small number of key presses and mouse clicks, group after group, before he ran up to another group to repeat the carnage. He fell into the rhythm of the game for a time and everything was good. But it didn't last long. Worries and fears crept in slowly at first and began to take over. He couldn't stop from glancing down to his shiny, red nails either, finding them too difficult to reconcile with the manly avatar on the screen, it was distracting and annoying. After a bit, it was just too much to deal with entirely. He quit playing and exited the game, even more upset than before he started. He sat there for a time just staring at the screen, lamenting his situation, trying to puzzle out what to do next to make things better somehow. Then the screensaver winked in and his mouth dropped open.

To his horror, they were pictures of his tattoo! He was stunned! Julia! She must have put them there. Eric's face soured as one image after another slid into view, every picture Julia took had to be there! If she sent those pictures to friends or posted them online... He'd be a laughing stock!

Panicking, he slammed his fist into the keyboard to stop the slide show then stood up, chair flying back, ready to smash the monitor into the wall. He stood there trembling instead, feeling stupid and alone. Somehow, he had hoped things would get better, at least manageable - they weren't. He was in trouble, deep trouble.

Julia wasn't going to give up control, that was made very clear, but maybe she could be talked into being a tiny bit more reasonable, a little more compassionate. He had to try something. But, he didn't know how to even broach 'being reasonable' to Julia. He needed another perspective, new ideas, something...

Julia still had his cellphone but they had a home phone and he had contacts on the computer; it didn't take long to get the number. He didn't even want to consider how embarrassing and difficult the call would be. He took a deep breath trying to calm down. Desperation was closing in as rapidly as his old life was disappearing. Anything was worth trying.

He punched in the number, crossing his polished fingers for luck, as he tapped the last button, furrowing his brow as the line began ringing. His heart skipped a beat when his sister answered her phone.

"Julia, what can I do for you?" Emily answered cheerily.

For a moment the greeting startled him until he realized that Julia's name must have come up in caller ID. He felt all the more invisible and irrelevant, lost behind Julia's shadow.

"Em, it's me, Eric." His voice sounded a bit shaky.

"Eric?!" she said, sounding surprised.

"Yeah, Em. I'm... umm... at home... still at the apartment, on the... home phone," Eric said.

Emily didn't reply, only background noise from her office.

"Em? You there?" he asked. "You're not... mad at me are you?"

"What can I do for you little brother?" she asked simply after a couple long, uneasy seconds.

"Well, I... I'm sorry I hung up on you last time, Em. I was just-"

"That's fine. I'm not mad at you." she said stiffly, interrupting him. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"Well... it's just... EM," Eric started, more nervous than he thought he would be, "I need some advice... some help. I just..." His voice trailed off as he fought to stay calm.

"This is about Julia again, right?" she asked matter-of-factly.

Eric was silent, ashamed to admit how weak he had become.

"I appreciate that you feel you can come to me with your relationship issues, little brother, but honestly I'm not sure what I can do for you," Emily said. "For starters, it's clear you didn't take my advice last time you called me. Right? I told you to leave, didn't I?"

"Yes."

"But you didn't leave, did you?. You're still there, aren't you?" she asked rhetorically.

"Em... I... Yes. I'm still here, still with Julia," he said. "I tried to leave, really I did. I'd packed my bags and everything. I was ready to go. Then..."

"Then what? What happened?"

"She came home early and I..." Eric bit his lip at the memory of begging Julia to let him stay, the weakness and yearnings he felt in front of her. Emily just wouldn't understand the power Julia held over him, just looking at her made him weak in the knees. "I just couldn't leave her, Em."

The line went quiet again, only background noises of people moving about and a few women talking in the distance.

"Em? Please? I need help," he said. "You don't know what she's done to me," he almost whispered, the words trailing off as he remembered the pain of the tattoo and all the humiliations which followed.

"Done to you?" Emily asked, sounding skeptical.

It was Eric's turn to remain silent as his hand reached around to touch his back.

"Eric, what are you talking about? What did Julia do to you?"

"I don't want to talk about it, not that anyway. I just-"

"Why don't you want to talk about it?! Why did you call me if you don't want to talk about it? What did she do?"

"It's too embarrassing, Em. I don't..." He let his voice trail off again as he bit his lip, struggling to maintain his composure. How do you tell your sister that the woman you married tattooed you as a piece of property?

"Did she hurt you somehow?"

"No, Em. She didn't hit me or anything, nothing like that. I think I could have actually left if she had done that," he said. "She..."

"Come on, Eric. I can't help you if I don't know what she did," Emily insisted.

He took a couple deep breaths while his heart pounded like drums in his ears. "She made me get a tattoo," he spat out.

"A tattoo?"

"Yes!"

"She made you get a tattoo?"

"Yes!"

"Of what? Where?"

"I'd rather not say."

The line went quiet for a bit, each moment only serving to build his anxiety while Emily considered his situation. This wasn't going like he hoped. Maybe he shouldn't have told her about the tattoo. It just came out. Hopefully, she could see the injustice and find a way help. She just had to.

"Well, I don't know, Eric. I'm not really so sure that's all that unusual."

"What!?" he shouted in dismay. "You don't understand," he insisted.

"I guess not," she replied calmly. "Honestly, I think you might be overreacting."

He began pacing back and forth, waiting for her to show some sympathy, show some glimmer of concern over what Julia had done, his heart pounding all the louder as he waited.

"She tattooed her name on me, Em!" he finally blurted out in frustration.

"What?!"

"She took me to a tattoo shop and had her name tattooed on me!" Eric said indignantly. "By a woman artist no less! While other women in the shop watched me getting inked!" The words were tumbling out now as his cheeks starting to sting from the shame of it. He wanted his sister to feel the outrage and humiliation burning inside him. "She practically forced me into it!"

Emily didn't respond right away, Eric only heard more office noise and more women chatting in the distance as his distress and agitation grew.

"Did they tie you down or anything?" she finally asked with a touch of amusement in her voice.

"No!" Eric admitted.

"So, if you wanted, you could have left? Just gotten up and walked out?" she asked.

Eric didn't want to answer. Emily was quiet. She'd made her point - he let it happen. He could have left the shop but he didn't. He shook his head in frustration, feeling stupid for having brought it up. At least it was out there, what Julia was capable of, maybe that was good. He had to take some solace in that.

"Look, okay, just forget about the tattoo then! And don't mention it to anybody okay? I just... I need some help! I need to get Julia to listen to me again! You can help with that. Right? Maybe give me... a woman's perspective? Something? Because, I'm lost here. She won't listen to me about anything anymore!"

Eric waited, listening intently, hoping Emily would give him something to cling to, some womanly wisdom. Instead, it sounded like she was typing away on a keyboard, like she was too busy to even be bothered with him.

"Em??!" he shouted in a near panic.

"Sorry, Eric," she responded somewhat detached. "You did call me at the office. Just give me a second. I have to update somebody on a... project."

The typing continued as Eric waited, frustrated at being marginalized by another woman with a job.

"Sorry, Eric. I think she has what she needs now. You were saying Julia doesn't listen to you anymore?" she asked calmly.

Eric took a deep breath, trying to calm down, Emily's casual summary a disturbing oversimplification. "Em, my whole world is upside down." He struggled to keep his emotions in check. "I don't feel like I have control over my own life anymore," he insisted. "She's done things to me, Em. I can't even imagine what's next but... I know she has plans. I need to get through to her. I need..."

"Okay, Eric," she said calmly. "I think, I can help."

"Really?"

"Yes, but you need to calm down first. Okay?"

He nodded, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay, Okay," he said trying to spin back down. It had been impossibly difficult trying to confront Julia or get some measure of control back. Finally, there was an ally to help.

"I know change can be very hard, Eric," she said.

Eric nodded, trying to steel himself for what he would have to do to confront Julia.

"But, you're going to need to accept something. I don't think you're going to like this but you need to hear it," she said. "You ready?"

"Yes. I'm ready," he said nervously.

"Okay, listen closely, here it is - accept your situation and do whatever Julia tells you to do."

Eric's mouth dropped open. This wasn't what he expected or wanted at all! It was exactly the opposite! "But-"

"But nothing," Emily said, cutting off the objection. "Don't you see, Eric? Some part of you really wants a woman like Julia to dominate you. You need it. You wouldn't be where you're at if you didn't. Your actions prove it. You just don't want to admit it because you're embarrassed."

Eric was dazed by his sister's conclusions. It was nearly the same thing Julia had said to him earlier but this time from his own sister!

"No, Em. You don't really mean that," he insisted, his voice wavering.

"I do mean it, Eric, every word," she said with resolve.

"Em... I... don't know what to say," he admitted with a confused, worrisome expression twisting across his face. "I don't understand. You told me to leave her before."

"Well, that's right, I did," she said thoughtfully. "But, you didn't do what I told you. Don't you see? You don't really want to leave or you would have. You could have stopped Julia but you want to be in the situation you're in," she said succinctly. "You're causing yourself untold grief by fighting it. Just accept that you want to be dominated by Julia. You can't help yourself. It's in your nature. Maybe it's in the nature of most men for all I know. Listen to me and do what I tell you this time - crawl to Julia on your hands and knees, beg to kiss her feet, and do whatever she tells you from now on."

"B... But-".

"It's where you belong!" Emily snapped.

Eric scrunched up his face, cringing, his sister's words echoing in his mind, tearing at him like vultures, ripping away at what was left of his manhood, pecking it to the bones. The phone slipped from his hands and bounced on the floor. He stared at it through bleary eyes. Was that where he truly belonged, on the floor at Julia's feet? He remembered what it was like to be on his knees before her, looking up as she towered over him, reigning over him as the dominant, superior woman she was. He imagined what it might be like to crawl to her feet, just as his sister suggested, to plant soft kisses on her toes, to do it with reverence. Was that the fantasy of a submissive, he wondered. He dropped to his knees to pickup the phone. Emily was typing again. He waited until she finished, feeling shattered inside as a few quiet tears ran down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Emily," he said contritely, quavering. "I... dropped the phone."

"It's okay, Eric. Don't feel too bad. I'm sure this is a very confusing time for you. You called me looking for help, which I gave you, but I'm sure it's not what you wanted to hear," she said. "It's okay if you're disappointed but I told you the truth. You're twisting yourself into knots for no good reason. The answer has been in front of you the entire time. You have to be brave enough to grab it and accept it. Listen to me this time."

"I'll... think about what you said," he replied soberly, feeling lower inside than ever before.

"I hope you will. It's for your own good."

Eric just nodded as he wiped the wetness from his face.

"Good luck, little brother," she said cheerily, then hung up.

Eric sat there on the floor for a time, wounded, numb, trying to think of nothing at all for a time, trying to find some type of balance again. Then the phone started screeching, desperate to be returned to its cradle, rousing him out of a reverie. He struggled back to his feet unsteadily, sliding up the wall, and hung up the phone, stopping momentarily to stare at the unfamiliar sight of his colorful nails against the ivory handset.

He jerked his hand away, shaking his head in frustration. As much as he wanted to deny everything Emily said he just couldn't. Maybe, just maybe, she was right. He began obsessing over it, trying to find himself again. In the end, all that seemed to matter was Julia. He wasn't a man to her anymore. He was a homemaker, her wife, and property!

Julia balanced a bag of groceries on her hip as she opened the apartment door. It was going to be interesting to see how good Eric was at being a hostess for the evening. She resolved to send him to cooking classes for future dinners then grinned at the notion of enrolling him in a finishing school. Maybe he could even be taught to curtsy, she thought with a snicker.

Walking towards the kitchen, she began scanning the apartment. From casual inspection, the place looked immaculate. Eric had learned his cleaning lessons well and was finally becoming a fairly competent house keeper.

Dropping the groceries on the kitchen table, she smiled with satisfaction at how well the kitchen looked. A grimace briefly intruded as she recalled all the pointless battles over the dishes, back when she was ignorant of her power, then quickly twisted into a thin, cruel smile looking at the now spotless, gleaming sink. Being a dominant woman clearly had advantages.

Looking for her weak, little submissive, Julia walked to the back of the apartment, to the computer room, then came to an immediate and abrupt stop, shocked at what she saw. Eric was sitting in front of the computer, hunched over, cradling his head with prettily painted fingers, sobbing, while images of his tramp stamp flashed by overhead. He was completely unaware of her, lost in grief.