Roles Reversed Ch. 02

TWO

Several days later Bridget returned home from shopping, after I had returned home from work. She had stopped by her office before going on what was obviously a shopping spree. She had a multitude of bags and sent me to fetch them for her out of the car.

I had already prepared dinner, as she had instructed per her note left on the kitchen counter. Bridget didn't say much but took her bags to the master bedroom and returned in a robe and a what appeared to be a new pair of heels, the medium-height kind that you imagined women wore around the house. I could see her thick bush underneath her silk robe. I started getting a hardon, thinking about fucking her. Despite the changes in our relationship, my wife still got me hot. And as much as I hated to admit it, the recent changes had turned me on in a way I never expected.

We had dinner and the topic of conversation was getting the kids out of the house and on to college and on their own, out of the house permanently, to put it bluntly. Which is what Bridget was prone to do of late. She told me before we finished that I was to join her in the bedroom when I finished the dishes. Then she left the table for the veranda for a glass of wine and a cigarette before going upstairs to our bedroom.

It dawned on me why Bridget had arranged for our son and daughter to go away over the summer before they started college. She had obviously planned this for quite some time. I wondered when this whole scenario had germinated itself in her head, what prompted her to do it.

Bridget was already in the bedroom when I finished the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen. She was organizing and looking over her purchases. She turned momentarily to look at me and all she said was, "strip."

I got undressed and waited for her, standing there, bashfully, my cock starting to get hard. When she was finally finished with her things she sat down on the chest at the end of the bed and lit a cigarette, looking me over a bit before she spoke.

"Bitch, I know you've disobeyed me, jerked off without permission," she said sultrily, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

I began to protest my innocence, but she was having none of it.

"I'm not going to beat your ass tonight because I didn't catch you in the act," she countered. "I'm trying to be fair here, not a tyrannical cunt, but I certainly can be, if you want. So here's the deal: you're going in chastity tonight. I planned to do this when I'm away but we might as well begin now. You'll also be shaved. I want you hairless. And I've decided to modify your wardrobe a little," she smirked.

I stood and listened. I was afraid to say anything. I waited for her to speak again.

"So, let's get started!" she said with wicked enthusiasm. She had me stand before her and spread my legs. She shaved my cock and balls, and not gently so, before she turned me around and shaved my ass. She commented as she worked that I was getting semi-erect, but for someone who hadn't cum in four days I wasn't leaking any precum, which confirmed her suspicions. She then rubbed my body with a smelly, nasty depilatory and made me wait the fifteen minutes until it took full effect before sending me to shower.

When I'd finished and dried off my body was slick and hairless. I felt a little emasculated. Bridget told me to come to her and she took my cock and balls in her hands roughly. She took something out of a box and slid a plastic device on my cock and locked it behind my balls. It was very snug. She put me on my knees before she continued.

"Now, you can piss but you can't pleasure yourself. Or fuck anyone else," she explained. "By the way, I better not see you ever peeing standing up. You squat to pee from now on. I'll decide when you will have this taken off and you can pleasure yourself. Let's get to the rest of the rules I'm instituting to keep you in line. But I'll let you ask any questions you want at the moment. Ask away, while you can."

"Why are you doing all this? I've never cheated on you and I think I've been a good husband and father for our children," I said in a pathetic, submissive and pleading voice.

Bridget lit another cigarette before she answered and enjoyed a long drag. "Bitch," she began, exhaling a cloud of smoke upward, "I've already explained this to you. I don't like to repeat myself. I will whip your ass if you make me do it again. Now what else do you want to ask, I'm getting tired and bored, and I want my cunt licked before I go to bed."

I hesitated to ask anything else, but I had to know. "Where is all this going?" I asked meekly.

Bridget looked at me for several moments before she answered, smoking and ruminating on my question and her answer.

"I'm not entirely sure. I haven't planned the entire journey yet, but I know a general direction. I'm not leaving you, as long as you behave and do what I tell you to do. So relax and enjoy," she smiled wickedly. "Now I'm through with questions for the night. Time to get on with the rest of our business tonight." I waited, kneeling before her.

"You'll sleep in the guest room from now on," she continued. "I'll be putting the house on the market soon, so we can downsize to a more reasonable place. You'll be responsible for all the mundane details of arranging movers and such. I already have a place in mind, once we sell this house. In two weeks I'll be taking a little vacation, alone. You will stay here and you will behave. And believe me, I'll know if you fuck up. Don't test me. Do you understand?"

"Yes Ma'am," I said, my head spinning a little.

"Good boy," she said, almost smiling. "Now, two more things. You will be taking early retirement or arranging to work from home. I want you at my beck and call 24/7, and along with that, I'm going to change your wardrobe a little. You'll notice on the bed in the guest bedroom several items. These are what you'll wear, for now, under your street clothes. Oh, and you're going to be pierced and marked as my property. You may be my husband, but you are my chattel, now," she said harshly. "Do you understand?"

I hesitated. I wasn't entirely amenable to putting up with this, not at all. I remained silent.

Bridget bitch-slapped me again. "I asked, 'do you understand?!'"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Good." she lit another cigarette and spread her legs, exposing herself to me. "Get over here and lick my cunt before I retire for the evening."

It didn't take long to satisfy her. She was very wet, and obviously very excited. I licked her and sucked her cunt until she couldn't take anymore. Then she sent me to my room, closing her bedroom door behind me.

In my new room I found two shopping bags on the bed and a lengthy note with instructions from Bridget.

"pussyslave,

In your shopping bags you'll find what I expect you to wear under your street clothes: -Panties -chemise -stockings

Do try to color coordinate. I don't have time to dress you.

At home you will wear only a robe, stockings and your maribou slippers. N panties. You will sleep nude.

You will follow the additional instructions attached along with a daily schedule.

Your Bitch Wife Bridget"

The rest of the note explained new house rules, mostly mundane, about chores and so forth, along with a daily schedule -- breakfast in bed, dinner time, daily shaving of her pussy, drawing her bath water, etc.

I threw the note on the nightstand set the bags on the floor. I was angry and depressed. I slipped downstairs quietly and poured myself a stiff drink, straight vodka out of the freezer. I was trying to drink myself into a stupor so I could sleep. I poured myself another before I returned to bed. I could hear Bridget talking to someone, but couldn't make out the conversation. I set my alarm and went to bed, naked of course.

My alarm went off too early and I was exhausted from a fitful night deprived mostly from sleep. My head ached a little from the vodka. I looked at my shopping bags and rummaged through them for panties, stockings and the shoes. The idea of dressing for Bridget didn't completely turn me off. I could indulge her for now. It was pretty harmless.

My slippers fit perfectly. I wondered how she got them in my size. My feet were not small. The stockings actually felt nice, a pair of dark seamed stocking thigh-highs. There were at least a dozen pairs of panties, but true to my instructions, I left them and slipped on one of the silk robes in the bag. I went downstairs to make breakfast for Bridget and brought it to her on a tray to her bedroom. I knocked on the door and waited for her to answer.

"Come in," she said after what seemed like an eternity of waiting outside the door of what was formerly my bedroom. "Well, don't you make a pretty, sexy little housewife," she smirked. I didn't react outwardly. Inside I was mortified, to tell the truth and turned on at the same time.

Bridget had me stand next to the bed while she had breakfast. She inspected my cock and balls and the chastity device. She reminded me that I was to keep myself slick and hairless -- completely. After breakfast I would give her her daily pussy trim and shave.

"We're going out later," she informed me. "We have things to take care of. You'll drive me. Draw my bath in half and hour and be ready yourself in one hour. Don't forget your wardrobe. You'll wear slacks and a dress shirt for our business today. Now, take the tray and clean up." Bridget lit a cigarette and smoked in bed as I left for the kitchen.

When Bridget came down ready to go out, she looked stunning. She was wearing a pencil skirt, stiletto pumps and a beater that showed off her still-amazing rack, and a jacket. She gave me an address and I drove her there, using the GPS in the car.

We pulled into a rather seedy shopping center. She told me to follow her and we went into a tattoo and piercing parlor. I wondered what was going on, dreading what this might be. Was she going to follow through on what she had said before?

She told me to wait in the lobby -- if you could call it that - while she spoke to the girl at the desk. I couldn't hear what they said but in a moment the girl, replete with tattoos and piercings on all exposed skin, took Bridget into another section of the tattoo parlor. In a while she opened the door and told me to come back with her.

"You'll be here for several hours for your procedures, so I'll be back when they're finished," she said and promptly left.

I had no idea what was going on, sitting here in what was something similar to a medical examination room. In a moment a man and two women walked in, both about mid-thirties.

"Well, let's get started, then," the man said without introduction or fanfare. "You'll need to strip down naked for what Bridget asked us to do."

I was mortified. I'm sure I turned beet red, my face was hot. I began to protest but the man was having none of it. "Dude, you're getting this, whether you like it or not, your lady already paid for it," he said. "I don't want to have to hogtie you for this, that would be fun, but I really don't have time for it. But if you insist, I will hogtie your ass and do what she asked for."

He was no small man, but his tone and demeanor told me even more so he meant business. Not to mention he looked like a very rough character, with tattoos everywhere, like a tough biker. His counterparts were a contrast between one another. One looked like a biker chick, the other was a very attractive lady, elegant even. She could have been a model, although she was rather petite for that kind of work. I wondered why it took three of them.

I reluctantly stripped, slowly. All of them grinned brutally when they saw me in panties, stockings and a chemise. Biker chick told me those have to come off, too. While I slowly stripped Biker man and Biker Chick talked as if I were not there, discussing this and that, some things that meant nothing to me, but what did stick in my mind was that not only was I apparently getting a tattoo, or maybe tattoos, I was also getting pierced. The model simply observed. She lit a cigarette while they began their work.

The man told me to bend over the table. Fortunately he was wearing latex gloves, as was Biker Chick now, when he began to touch me. I felt him drawing on my lower back, almost into the crack of my ass at one point. I felt like running away, but I was afraid of the consequences, one from this guy, and ultimately from Bridget. So I took it. When the needle started it hurt like hell. The tattoo was by no means small. It took Biker Man what seemed like ever to finish it. My lower back was nothing but dull, throbbing pain once he started. I tried to focus on other things, take my mind off the humiliating ordeal of getting a trampstamp.

I thought this might be all of it but then I remembered about the piercings I overheard. Biker Man told me to roll over and sit on the bench. He took my left foot in his hand and began putting a tattoo around my ankle. Biker Wench was there practically the whole time, doing her own thing and watching, too. She had an amused smirk on her face. The Model simply sat and watched the whole procedure, smoking from time to time. I wondered what her role was in all this.

When he finally finished my anklet tattoo, I shuddered to think what was next. About that time Bridget walked back into the room. She didn't speak to me, but getting an update on my progress from biker man and biker wench. She seemed to know the Model, but they didn't speak much. I wondered what the hell was going on.

"We saved the best for last," biker wench said with a grin. She told me to spread my legs and Bridget used the key around her neck to unlock my chastity device. Biker wench had several things in her hand as she replaced Bridget between my legs. They turned out to be male chastity devices of a different design.

"I think we'll have to go with a small or an extra-small," she smirked.

"No doubt," Bridget said, as she lit a cigarette. Biker wench placed it on me roughly. It was all metal, curving my cock down sharply but it was open at the end, leaving my cockhead exposed. It also diminished in diameter so that she had to pinch what little of my cockhead was able to get through and pull it through, so that my helmet expanded past the narrow opening. My new cock cage secured much like the old one, behind the balls but also had a ring to squeeze them down and keep them tight in my sac. It was snug, but not too tight when Bridget stepped forward again to place the lock on it.

Biker man left, his tattoo work finished, apparently. Thank God he didn't take care of the chastity device, I thought. Despite my predicament, I was getting aroused, although the cock cage prevented any reasonable chance of an erection.

Biker wench then told me to lean back on the bench. She brought over a piercing needle and several rings, each the same, with a little stone mounted in the center, along with two plain stud earrings, I assumed. I began getting very nervous. She began with my ears. The earlobes hurt, but the nipples hurt more. She put the studs in my ears and moved on to my nipples. The pain in my nipples was sharper but it was momentary before she quickly replaced the needle with the ring. I had to admit, she seemed very skilled at doing piercings.

Biker wench then grabbed the shaft of the cock cage. Suddenly I realized she was about to pierce my cock or balls. I gasped a little.

"Oh, please, no!" I looked at Bridget. "Please, no, this is too much!"

Bridget pulled biker wench aside so she could bitch-slap me. Then she grabbed my chin and looked straight into my eyes.

"You know the score," Bridget said. "It's my way or the highway."

The Model was obviously enjoying this. She had a wicked grin on her face.

I nodded reluctantly. Biker wench stepped back between my legs and took my cock cage in her hand, roughly of course.

"Don't move," she warned me. She stabbed the needle horizontally through my cockhead and replaced it quickly with the ring. She put some sort of antibiotic cream on my nipples and cockhead before she finished. "All done," said, looking at Bridget and the Model, grinning.

"Great, thank you," Bridget answered. "Lovely work. Get dressed, pussyslave," she said, turning to me.

"Thank you," biker wench said grinning even more broadly. "I LOVE doing cock piercings, it's such a rush."

I was mortified. Where did Bridget find these people? I was feeling like I was in some weird, psychosexual "Twilight Zone" episode that just would not end. And who was the Model? Why was she there?

Bridget had me drive her to her salon for a style and a manicure and pedicure. She would be at least two hours, I knew this. I wondered what I was to do in the mean time. I soon found out.

"While I'm at the salon you're to go to the department store and buy yourself these items, in your size. You're to get assistance from one of the salesladies there. You will tell them that the items are for you and you need help with your sizes. I know the items are there, in your sizes, so don't fuck with me on this. You will try them on, each and every one of them. And yes, I will know if you don't follow my instructions to the letter," she said.

I sat and stared out the car window. When does this nightmare end? I wondered.

"Do you understand me?" she asked, annoyed.

"Yes Ma'am," was all I could muster in a monotone of resignation.

Bridget walked into the salon and I walked towards the department store. My piercings were starting to get irritated from my chemise underneath my shirt, and my throbbing cockhead was making me walk funny.

I looked at my list and walked gingerly to the lingerie department. I noticed a saleslady there, a lady a little younger than me. She was immaculately dressed.

"May I help you sir?" she asked me very professionally.

"Yes," I said meekly. "I need to purchase some things, I have a list here," reluctantly handing it to her.

She looked over the list quickly. "Do you know sizes? I'm sure we have everything you're looking for," she smiled.

"No, I don't," I said, sighing.

"Well, maybe you could describe your lady to me," she said.

"They're for me," I said shyly, in almost a whisper. I"m sure I was beet red from my confession to this complete stranger.

"Hmm, hmm, hmm hmm," she laughed quietly and smiled knowingly, looking at me over her reading glasses. She stepped closer to me and put her hand on my arm, rubbing it lightly. "Don't you worry, Sweetie," she said quietly with a condescending grin, "I've dressed plenty of sissies, we're going to make you look and feel very feminine and pretty!"

She took out a measuring tape and measured my hips, waist and chest. She then walked me around taking things off the rack and leading me back to the dressing rooms. I was thankful there appeared to be only one other saleslady in the lingerie department and one customer, both of them engaged away from us and the dressing rooms. She walked inside with me and I gave her a look of shock and surprise.

"Now, relax, Sweetie," she assured me, "like I've said, I've helped lots of sissies dress, there's nothing wrong with it and you don't need to be embarrassed or ashamed. Let's get you undressed and try on some pretty things."

I undressed hesitantly, knowing she was about to see me in my shame of being freshly tattooed and pierced, bound in chastity and feminized. I stood before her completely nude save my stockings. She smiled, as though to say "Oh what a sissy you are." She helped me with my new lingerie outfits, two panty-bra-garter sets, three teddies and a frilly chemise that looked like a satin dress with a short hemline. She talked soothingly to me, encouraging me, trying to take the edge off the embarrassment and humiliation of revealing that my wife was both dominating and feminizing me.