Reversals Ch. 11

She could hardly believe what she was watching. His shoulders shook with a wrenching depth of sorrow as he continued to sob. It was disturbing enough, the grief so deep, she began feeling empathy towards him. She wriggled her shoulders and sighed at the intrusive feeling.

Eric quickly twisted around, alerted by the sound. His face was wet and stained with tears as he tried to mouth something. The words came out weak, inaudible.

Julia shook her head, unable to make sense of it.

"I'm sorry," he mouthed, the simple words coming out strained and breathy.

"About what?" she asked, genuinely confused.

"Everything," he said simply, shaking his head, looking towards the ground.

Julia's eyes narrowed as the empathy began to fade.

"It's just hard for me," he complained. "I was brought up thinking a man was supposed to... take charge. Lead. Be in control. Take care... of my wife, provide for her." He shrugged his shoulders. "That's the stuff I was taught to be, what I had to be, to be a man... to be worth something." He looked up towards Julia, daring to meet her eyes, shaking his head. "But, I'm none of that," he said with a quaver, searching her face for some sympathy.

Julia looked back at him sitting there in misery, fully aware that she had the power to comfort him, to throw a life line to his shattered ego and rescue what was left of the old Eric. She smiled to herself. She wasn't about to rescue the worm.

"No, you're not any of those things. You can't provide for yourself, let alone provide for me. Men don't grovel like you! Men don't wear nail polish like you. Truthfully, by your thinking, you're not a man at all," she said, the accusation landing like a whip to his back.

Eric's head dropped. He couldn't bear to look her in the eyes any longer. She watched him agonize over failure, taking perverse delight in his struggle. She took a few steps forward, closing in on him, towering over Eric's hunched frame, gratified that fate had made her a woman and not some worm of a man like the wretch before her. "I want you to stop resisting me and accept your new life," she said.

He nodded, feebly.

"I'm serious. If you're really sorry, if you want to redeem yourself with me, I expect total, complete and swift compliance with everything I tell you to do. And I mean everything!"

Eric sat there, nearly motionless, trying to accept his fate.

"I told you before that this is a female lead marriage. You accepted that, agreed to it!"

He nodded his head.

"Didn't I tell you that your place was at my feet?"

He nodded.

"Then why are you sitting in that chair?!"

He glanced up to see the unmistakable resolve in her eyes then quickly tumbled forward, out of the chair, to the floor. He crawled forward as his sister had suggested earlier then bent his forehead down to her shoes.

Julia stared down at him grinning, the heat between her thighs growing, dampening her panties with the excitement and power she felt. "From now on, whenever I come home, I want you to greet me on your knees. Do you understand?!"

"Yes, Julia," he said, somehow feeling gratitude for her dominance and commands. He hated it and loved it and wanted more, terrified by his increasingly twisted nature.

"From now on, you obey me without hesitation! Do you understand?!"

He nodded, shocked at the prospect, frightened at how easy it was for him to agree.

"You can stop worrying about being a man. Don't let it bother you anymore. I told you before, you can think of yourself as my wife and a homemaker. That's what you are now! Not a man! I expect you to embrace it!"

Looking pathetic, he raised his head from her shoes a few inches and, not knowing what to do, raised up a hand to ask a question.

"What?!" Julia responded, irritated.

"I'm thinking I... you said before... it was okay for me to look for a job. So-"

"No! That part of your life is over now!" she said resoundingly. "I told you before that I wanted you to be a full-time homemaker. Now, I'm demanding it. That's what you are from now on - a homemaker. No more debate."

"But-"

"No! A job outside our home isn't an option for you any longer. You're silly little job search is over. In fact, you're going to delete everything you're using for job hunting, all your accounts on job sites, emails, resumes, everything. You don't need any of them anymore," she said.

Eric was petrified. With a simple pronouncement, every plan he'd ever had for his life was wiped away. Gone.

"Wife and homemaker - that's you," she said. "If you can't remember it, I'll have that tattooed on you too so you can't forget. Where shall we put it? Your wrists perhaps? Maybe across your chest?"

He didn't say a word, certain she might do it.

"Now, tell me what you are!" she demanded.

Eric lowered his head back to the floor, the scent of warm leather mixing with the odor of the carpet. What was he becoming!? What would she do if he disobeyed!? "I'm your...," he started, not wanting to say the rest, but fear making it tumble out anyway, "wife and homemaker." His cock twitched in response.

Julia curled her lips in triumph. "Kiss my feet, wife," she commanded.

He pursed his lips and kissed her instep and then the tops of her toes where they went into the shoe, sweet tow cleavage, her other foot quickly followed, soft, gentle kisses, each one making his cock ache a little more with need.

"Good, Eric. Good. Keep kissing them," she said. "Do my ankles too, up to the knee." She watched him applying one soft kiss after another as he worked his way up, her panties slowly getting damper as he paid homage to her. Dominating the little worm was a heady aphrodisiac. "I hope you realize this changes everything. Now that your our full-time homemaker... we can consider children. I can have a baby now," she said.

The kisses slowed as he listened more closely.

"Of course, 'mothering' would be added to your list of job duties," she said.

He stopped kissing and froze.

"Are you ready to be a mother to our daughter?" she asked.

"Mother? A daughter? I-".

"Of course, a daughter. Actually, twin girls would be ideal," she enthused. "That's all the babies I think I'd ever want. Two new lives to carry on for us in this world."

Eric rolled back on his knees, keeping his eyes to the floor. He looked troubled, like he wanted to ask something but was struggling for the words. Julia could practically read his mind.

"Yes, I do mean daughters, if that's what's troubling you. Why would I burden a child of mine with... maleness?" she said with disdain. "Besides, I intend to leave the world a little better place if I can - that means properly educated girls."

Eric nodded subtly. Julia watched him for a few moments deal with the reality of not being allowed a son, of being the only male in a family of females. She let him brood over his future for a bit, allowing the silence to settle around them before teasing out the next part.

"There's a medical group..." she started. His eyes went wide in surprise, a chill suddenly creeping into his bones. "They can make sure we only have girls," she announced. "So if you were thinking we might have a boy, forget it. Furthermore, you don't get a say - it's my womb."

He stared off into the distance trying to process what she said. With every turn, something else was being taken away, altered by Julia to some female dominant alternative. It was a daunting reality but instead of warning him away the danger made it more exciting, deepening the erotic thrill of surrender, broadening the addiction to her.

She so wanted to tell him that the medical group was going to make sure he'd be needing a bra long before their daughters would, that he'd be lactating for them, but it still felt risky, she wanted to be sure he was fully under her control first. "I hope you truly understand everything I'm telling you. The life you knew as a man is over," she said. "You're going to be my little, agreeable, submissive wife from now on. My full-time homemaker, fully dependent on me financially and every other way possible," she said with zeal. "And you're going to mother my daughters too."

Eric slowly raised his head and looked into Julia's eyes and quickly averted away knowing she meant every word.

"I told you I had plans for you," she said.

He took a deep, fitful breath to gather some courage. "Please be kind to me," he said softly. "Please... I really want to be with you. I want you happy, I do. It's just a lot for me. I... Please be patient with me while I figure it all out. Please?"

Julia looked at the man she once respected with utter contempt. He'd become such a pathetic, begging, little worm. "Awe, poor, Eric." She grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "I have news for you. I'm going to be cruel to you. I'm going to change you in ways you can't imagine right now. And honestly... I haven't even figured out all the things I want to do with you yet, how far I want to take this." She sneered wickedly at him, her eyes glazing over for a moment as she lost herself to sadistic visions of possible futures. "It'll be interesting to see how you turn out when I'm done with you."

The hair on the back of Eric's neck stood up. He was terrified but still tremendously excited, his cock straining in his pants for release.

"Only one thing can save what's left of you but you already failed at that once - find the strength to leave me. I won't try to stop you. In fact, I won't ever force you to do anything," she said, giving Eric some sense of relief, then painfully taking it away just as quickly. "But, I will demand obedience if you want to stay with me. Otherwise, I'll kick your sorry ass out and you'll lose me forever. It's up to you." She released his hair with a sneer. "Now, lick my heels! Accept what you've become! Submit!"

Eric was wide-eyed and petrified.

Julia angrily jerked a pointed finger towards her stilettos. "Crawl, lick my heels! Don't miss any spots either!"

Eric swallowed hard as a tingle ran up his back. Moving slowly at first, head down, he did as he was told, crawling between her legs, face to the floor, then began licking as she demanded. It started out slow. The taste was stale, a bit bitter and foul. He didn't want to believe he was doing it but he was, each stroke of the tongue making the next easier. What was she moulding him into!? It didn't seem to matter. Grit made it's way into his mouth but he kept licking, first the spike to the right, then the other, and back again. It was foul but he licked for all he was worth until both thin, black spikes glistened. Then he inched back, suppressing a dry heave from what he had just done. He took a deep breath trying to calm himself, then carefully backed away to kneel before her, gently kissing the top of each foot, hoping to placate her.

Julia looked down at him with a suspicious but satisfied smile, enjoying the sour expression plastered across his lips. "Not bad, worm. You'll get better with practice," she said.

Eric attempted to smile, embracing the words like praise.

"If you're a good boy tonight, maybe I'll let you lick something else later," she said.

The very notion thrilled him to the core - he'd be used, on his knees or back, forced to satisfy her womanhood, unable to satisfy his own needs, but it still thrilled him.

"You have other work to do right now though. I left everything you'll need to make dinner tonight in the kitchen. The recipe is with it. Get started," she said gesturing towards the kitchen.

He got up slowly, staring at the incredible beauty before him, still in turmoil over what she had just made him do yet ready to serve her in the kitchen. He held out his hands towards her, hoping to get permission to use the remover after inspection.

Julia looked annoyed. "You need to get dinner started! Now, get going!" she commanded.

"But, my nails need to be-"

"I'm not interested in them now. I'll look at them later. Maybe that'll give you some incentive to work on dinner. Now do what I said, get going!"

He sped out of the room and towards the kitchen, his girly hands leading the way.

"Don't disappoint me tonight," he heard her yell over his shoulder. "Sam better love your cooking!"

Worry settled in as he quickly unpacked the groceries and began reading the recipe Julia had printed out. He winced looking at his nails, shaking his head in frustration over the whole situation. He needed to do well tonight. Julia needed to be happy. He groaned inside thinking like that but keeping her happy was important.

Julia casually walked into the bedroom and began looking though her closet for an outfit for the evening as Eric began preparing dinner. After a time, she picked out a sleeveless white blouse and paired it with a simple black skirt, an understated but pretty outfit when properly accessorized with pearls and an elegant pair of black pumps.

A wicked, self-satisfying smile settled onto Julia's face as she slipped off her dress from the day, thinking about the evening ahead. She walked over to the vanity and gazed into the mirror, pleased at how well she looked in a simple bra and panties, looking forward to dominating and humiliating Eric in front of Samantha, showing her how far she had evolved as a dominant woman. It would be an emasculating evening for her worm, all the more priceless because she had decided to keep him in nail polish all night long! The thought made her feel naughty, bad. She giggled thinking about how panicked Eric was going to be, still wearing nail polish when Samantha arrived.

Aroused by everything she had set in motion, she traced an index finger over her bra, slowly, luxuriating in the sensation as she watched herself in the mirror. Hopefully, soon, he would accept anything she demanded. The very notion of having so much power over some male made her swoon. She bit her lip at the notion, the heat and dampness in her panties growing the more she thought about the abuse Eric would suffer. She squeezed her thighs together, leaning against the vanity, as a soft moan escaped her lips, imagining what Eric was going to look like with boobs, first small ones, then larger, and still larger after that as she ripped away his masculinity.

She was really going to do it to him - ruin him as a man, feminize her pathetic submissive, turn him into a obedient servant, maybe even a willing slave. She gasped at the thought as she ran a finger along her hungry cleft and began rubbing it, pushing her wet panties inside as deep as they'd go, her face turning flush in the mirror. It wasn't enough and soon nimble fingers slid inside the waistband to stroke her little nub, to dream about the future with a compliant, feminized male. The intensity increased as her other hand slid inside her bra to tug at stiffening nipples. She kept teasing them, first one, then the other while the pace increased. Her plans were so wicked! Eric with huge... womanly... milk laden breasts, soaking his bra while he cried over losing his manhood! A moment later she bit her lip to keep from screaming, moaning as a sweet climax washed through her, rocking her pelvis as she collapsed onto the vanity! When it finally subsided her hand was soaked with her own nectar.

"Julia?" Eric yelled from the kitchen. "Making good progress with dinner. Do you think we can have the nail inspection now?"

"No!" she yelled back. "Finish dinner! Stop bothering me!"

Eric asked a couple more times as the evening wore on, desperate to remove the polish before their guest arrived. Julia continued to refuse him, with as little as a shake of the head and a bemused smile. Finally, as she was refreshing her lipstick, Eric shuffled timidly into the bedroom and dropped to his knees to beg.

"Am I being punished?" he asked, holding out his fingers towards her.

Julia shook her head, arching an eyebrow in surprise at the question. Eric looked so frustrated and confused over something so ordinary to her it was almost comical.

"I don't feel comfortable," he began. "Not with other people, not with nail polish on me. I... please... I promise I'll practice... watch videos, whatever it takes. I want to do your nails for you. Really I do. Guys just don't... it's not right. I'm not a... pansy. I..." His face contorted as he sought more words to plead with but his mouth just hung open, voiceless.

"You don't seem to get it, Eric. Stop your whining. Stop thinking of yourself as a man! You never were much of one anyway," she said. "Start thinking of yourself as my wife! A woman! Why worry so much about nail polish?"

Eric looked gobsmacked, his mouth hanging open in shock, trying to figure out something to say.

Then, the doorbell rang.