7 comments/ 90740 views/ 42 favorites Miss Jennifer's Sissy Housewife By: tiffanyfoxe My job was much less demanding than my wife's, so she had always "suggested" that I do all the housecleaning, shopping and cooking all week, and of course I never minded because I secretly loved being subservient to her. She loved to tease me when we'd be out somewhere together and she'd see a good looking guy by telling me how attractive she thought he was, and saying things like "I'll bet he'd love to fuck me," or "I wonder how big his cock is?" or "I'll bet you'd love to watch him fuck me, wouldn't you?" Then she'd look at me expectantly until I said something like, "yes, dear, I'd love to watch him fuck you." I was especially sensitive to things like that because I knew my penis was awfully small, and almost all of the time back when she'd actually let me have sex with her she'd make me kneel between her lovely legs, lick and kiss her sweet pussy and tender little clit until she came. Then she would sometimes – but not very often – let me put my little penis inside her until I came. Of course it never took me very long to cum because I'd always been servicing her cunt with my tongue and lips for 10-15 minutes at least, and she always had me stripped completely naked when I serviced her, which meant that my little pee-pee had been rock hard and very stimulated all the time that she'd had me licking her twat. Sometimes when I was licking her she'd talk about how much she'd like to have a real man fuck her, to have a man with a big hard cock get on top of her and fuck her until she came, or sit on her chest and rub his dick all over her tits and face until he fucked her mouth and shot his cum all over her face and tits. Then she'd tell me that after he shot his load of cum in her cunt she'd sit on my face and have me clean his cum out of her twat with my tongue. Or that after he came all over her face and tits she'd make me clean her up by licking up all his cum off of her breasts and face and eating it while she kept playing with his dick. Hearing things like that always made me even hornier, although since she only let me put my little penis in her once in a while, I often ended up having to go into the other room and masturbate by myself to relieve my horniness. Now, though, it had been quite some time since my wife had allowed me to have sex with her; at least a couple of years. Whenever I tried to edge towards the subject, or tried to touch her incredibly beautiful breasts or her gorgeous ass she just laughed at me scornfully and told me to go away, that I wasn't good enough to have sex with her. She'd laugh and tell me that I was completely useless as a man, and that my penis was too little to ever satisfy her, so finally I'd given up. Instead, whenever she was away on a trip, which she did on business every two or three weeks, I'd dress up as a girl and amuse myself by cleaning the house, doing the laundry, and whatever other chores needed to be done, pretending to myself that I was Miss Jennifer's wife. I loved wearing sexy lingerie, lovely blonde wigs, earrings, nylons, spiked high heels and oodles of makeup. Since my wife never saw me without clothes on, and made me sleep in a separate bedroom (much smaller than hers), I kept my legs, chest, underarms and groin shaved smooth and feminine all the time and actually wore a pretty lace brassiere and panties almost always. One evening after dinner we were in the kitchen together. She was sitting at the table finishing her meal and I was doing the dishes and cleaning up as I always did and she said, "It must have been nice back in the fifties and sixties to come home and have your wife greet you at the door with a drink, to know that dinner was almost ready, and that after dinner all you had to do was sit and relax while your little housewife cleared away the dishes and cleaned up everything. I blinked at her in some confusion. What was she talking about?. I mumbled some non-committal agreement like "Yes, that would be nice." She went on, now done with her food, just sitting there sort of musing. "One of my friends emailed me an article from back in the early sixties today. It talked about how a wife should always make sure she took 20-30 minutes before her husband came home to get herself ready for him. She should touch up her makeup, make sure her lipstick, eye shadow and mascara were perfect, that her hair was freshly curled and brushed, to always be wearing a pretty dress, with nylons and high heels so he would always have a pretty wife to come home to." She went on, "and of course to have his dinner ready and greet him at the door with a kiss, ready to do whatever he wanted as his obedient little housewife." She sighed, and went on. "Those were the days, I guess. It would sure make it a lot easier coming home from work if I had someone like that greeting me every day, standing there at the door looking nice and pretty, handing me a glass of champagne." I blinked in disbelief. Of course, my ultimate fantasy was to be her wife, to serve her as her completely submissive housewife, just like she was describing. I'd always loved dressing up as a girl, wearing pretty lace bras and panties, with my pair of big 54DD silicon filled falsies in my bra, nylons, high platformed spiked heels and oodles of eye shadow, mascara, blush and lipstick, and one of my pretty golden blonde wigs with big hoop earrings. Once she'd agreed to let me dress up for her, years ago just after we were first married, but she hadn't really enjoyed it, and had never agreed to do it again. Occasionally, back when we'd had a sexual relationship I'd slipped in bits of my fantasies while we were having sex, telling her how I'd love to be her maid, encouraging her to say things like I wasn't good enough to have sex with her, or that she'd like to have me watch while another man fucked her, and then sit on my face after he shot his cum into her pussy, and have me clean his cum out of her cunt with my tongue. But those days were gone – I couldn't even remember the last time she'd allowed me to have sex with her. And although I dressed up as pretty as I could whenever I knew she'd be away for any length of time, I certainly had never dreamed that she'd actually say or even hint that she would ever want me to be her little housewife. "Umm..." I stammered, my mouth hanging open, not sure exactly how to respond, but staring at her. Did I dare to pursue what she was saying? But I thought, what did I have to lose? So still holding the dishtowel I walked over about halfway to her, knowing that I was blushing, and looking down at my feet. "Dear? Would you really like to have a sweet little housewife here at home when you come home from work? To be greeted by your little wife at the door with a glass of champagne, all dressed up pretty for you, in nylons and high heels with fresh makeup and her hair all pretty for you? She just laughed and shook her head. "What are you talking about?" "Well...I'd...I'd love to do that for you, to be a good little housewife for you. I would, really. I'd...I'd be there every day when you get home from work...to greet you with champagne at the door, to always be dressed up pretty for you, always wearing high heels and nylons and makeup like a good little wife. I could make dinner for you every night, and clean up everything afterwards. I'd do your laundry every day, and make your bed every morning so that you'd never have to do anything. Really I could – I'd be a perfect little wife for you. Please, could I? Wouldn't you like that? To have a good little housewife to do everything for you, to wait on you hand and foot like wives did back in the fifties and sixties." I looked down at her feet in embarrassment, loving what I was saying. "Please could I be your wife. Please?" She laughed again, shaking her head, "Don't be ridiculous." But I kept begging. "Please? Wouldn't you like that? To never have to cook or clean up after dinner? To never have to do your laundry or make your bed? And...and I could vacuum and dust for you, I'd vacuum and dust the whole house every day for you, and change the sheets on your bed whenever you want, and...and clean the toilets...whatever you want, I'll do whatever chores you want me to do. Please could I be your wife, please? I promise I'd be a good little wife for you – I'd always do anything you told me to. Please? Please could I be your wife? Finally she stopped laughing and just looked at me, a strange expression on her beautiful face. "You're serious, aren't you? You'd actually like that, wouldn't you? You'd be my little housewife, all the time, every night, every day – you'd always do whatever I told you to do – no matter what?" "Oh, my, yes, dear. I would, I promise. Please? Please could I be your wife? I...I promise. I'll always wear mascara and eye shadow, and rouge and blush, and lipstick and lip gloss, just like a good little wife. I'll keep my legs shaved, and I'll always wear nylons and high heels, and a pretty dress or a skirt and blouse, with a bra and panties underneath. Please could I? Please could I be your wife? I want to be your wife so much...please could I? I promise I'll be a good little wife for you please?" "You'd do everything. Shopping, cooking, cleaning, make my bed and do my laundry, everything?" "Yes, dear, of course. I'd be a perfect little housewife for you, I promise. Please? Please could I be your wife? Please?" "And all I'd have to do is put up with you being dressed up as a girl and pretending to be a girl all the time?" "Well, I mean...if I'm going to be your wife, you'd want me to look like your wife, wouldn't you? I could...really, I could. I'd promise to be dressed properly all the time, I'd...I'd shave my legs and my underarms – all my body hair everywhere, and let my hair grow so after a while I wouldn't have to wear a wig, and...and I'd have my ears pierced so I could wear pretty feminine earrings all the time for you. And I'll do my nails for you, so I look like the perfect little wife all the time. Please could I? Please let me be your wife, please?" But she laughed and shook her head. "No, I don't think so. You are useless as a man, and of course I'll never ever have sex with you again, or even let you see my breasts, but letting you pretend to be my wife would be absurd, ridiculous, and I have no interest in that at all. And with that she'd held out her champagne glass and said, "but I will let you get me more champagne. Go get the bottle, refill my glass, then go to your room. I'm tired of looking at you." Crestfallen, completely disappointed because for a few moments I had thought she might agree to let me be her little obedient housewife, I did as she'd commanded, then went into my room and unable to think about anything but how much I'd love to be her little housewife, lay down on the bed and masturbated, thinking about how much I wished she'd let me be her wife. Then one evening a few days later she'd surprised me by telling me to come in the bedroom with her, then ordered me to stand in front of her and strip completely naked. After I had taken off all my clothes, and my little penis was sticking out from my hips semi erect from the embarrassment of having to stand there completely naked in front of my fully dressed wife, she sat there on the edge of her bed, just staring at me. Finally she cocked her head slightly to one side and asked, "So, you remember back when you said you'd like to be my little housewife?" I nodded, feeling my tiny little penis get even harder as I stood there naked in front of her. "And if I agreed, if I said you could try to be my little housewife, you'd do everything that you said last week. You'd make dinner for me every night, and clean up everything afterwards. You'd do all my laundry every day, and make my bed with fresh clean sheets every day, vacuum and dust the whole house every day, clean the toilets, keep the kitchen spotless...you'll do whatever I want, do whatever chores I tell you to do, immediately. You'll do anything and everything that I tell you to like a good, properly subservient little housewife – and all I have to do is put up with you pretending to be a girl." I couldn't believe my ears, and I knew without even looking that my little pee-pee was standing up quivering at rock hard attention, probably harder than it had ever been in my whole life. "Oh my god, yes, Miss Jennifer. I would, I promise, I'll be a perfect little housewife for you. I'll do everything you say, anything, always. Please could I? I promise I'd be a good little wife, a good little girl." Slowly, she nodded again. "Well...I don't know, maybe you could. You know, I think I might like not having to do any of that stuff any more." She paused, and frowned. "But don't go getting it into your head that I'm going to have sex with you. You know you're completely useless as a man, with that tiny little thing you call a penis, that worthless excuse for a cock. You're not good enough to ever have sex with me; you're just completely ridiculous. "I have absolutely no interest in ever letting you touch me again, much less ever have you put that ridiculous little dick of yours inside me. You're just not good enough to do that, ever. You know that, right?" I stared down at the floor. "Yes, dear. I know that. I know...I know I'm useless as a man. I know that I'm not good enough to ever have sex with you. I know you don't want my penis inside you ever again, I know that." She went on. "No sex. No sucking my tits or any of that. You just do all the chores, all the housework, keep everything spotless, and I'll put up with you pretending to be a girl. Do whatever you want about dressing up, shaving your legs, getting your ears pierced or whatever. Just don't bother me with it, don't expect me to be involved or anything. I really don't care what you do, as long as you do everything that I expect from a good little housewife, you understand?" "Yes, dear. Of course. I understand completely. That would be so wonderful. Really? Really you'll let me be your wife, you will? Oh, thank you. Thank you so much for letting me be your wife. I promise I'll always be a good little wife for you." She went on, "And since you're going to be my wife, I may look for another man, or men, to fuck me and suck my tits, to give me a real cock when I need it. You understand that, right? I mean – I can't expect a sissy little faggot who wants to dress up as a girl and wear makeup all the time to provide for my sexual needs, can I?" "No, dear. Of course not, whatever you want. I'll be your obedient little wife; whatever you want to do is fine of course. I know I'm completely useless as a man, I know I'm not good enough for you, not good enough to ever have sex with you, that I disgust you and that you have no interest in sex with me. Of course, if you want to find other men and have them fuck you, then of course that makes sense." She smiled, "Yes, I'll definitely do that. I've been needing a real man's cock inside me for a long time, to feel a real man with a big hard dick on top of me, spreading my legs and fucking my cunt like you could never do. That actually sounds pretty good to me. I'd love to get fucked, to have a real man's dick in me – I'd forgotten how good that feels with nothing but you around me. "Maybe I'll get a couple of guys, so I can have one of them stick his dick in my ass and the other one in my cunt, both at the same time...I think I'd like that. Maybe three of them – I think I'd like to have a cock in my twat, and in my ass, and in my mouth, all at the same time. And maybe if you're a good little girl, and do everything I tell you, maybe once in a while I'll let you watch while I get fucked. You'd like that wouldn't you? To watch while I have a real man, maybe two or three men fuck me? "And if you're really a good little wife, after I let them shoot their cum inside my cunt, fill my twat with their sperm, maybe I'll sit on your face and let you clean their cum out of my pussy with your little tongue, let their hot, wet, juicy jism drip down out of my pussy on your pretty little face and let you eat it all up. I'll bet you'd love that, wouldn't you? I blushed, looking down at my feet. "Yes, dear. You know I would; I'd love to be all dressed up pretty with makeup, nylons and high heels and watch while you have a real man fuck you. And I'd love to have you sit on my face so I could use my tongue to clean all of his cum out of your beautiful pussy for you." She laughed, then rolled her eyes. "Well," she said, shaking her head, her voice dripping with disgust. "Maybe...maybe it would be useful to have you be my little housewife." again she shook her head, "but first I have to see what you look like as a girl. I mean, we both know that you're completely useless as a man, and that your little – god, I can't even bring myself to call it a penis, it's so ridiculously tiny – your pee-pee, I guess it is. Your pee-pee is so absurdly small that I can't believe I ever let you have sex with me." She shook her head and laughed. "You know, sometimes I couldn't even tell when you had that pathetic little thing inside me it's so incredibly tiny. "But just because you're useless as a man, that doesn't mean you'll be any better as a girl, as my wife. And before I agree to let you be my wife, I need to see what you look like as a girl." She actually grimaced and shook her head. "So are you prepared to show me what you look like as a girl? What you'd look like if – and I emphasize the word IF – I agree to let you pretend to be a girl and serve me as my little housewife?" I couldn't believe my ears. Could I really be hearing her right? Was she actually thinking about letting me be her wife, to dress up as a girl – to live as a girl, as her little subservient housewife? It would be a dream come true, and I lost no time begging her to let me show her what a pretty feminine girl I could be for her. "Oh, god, Miss Jennifer. Yes, please...please let me be a girl for you. Let me show you how pretty I can be, how feminine and sweet I can be for you. Please? Please could I? Please let me get dressed up and show you that I could be a good little housewife for you, please?" She took a big deep breath and then slowly let it out in a huge sigh. "Well...all right. I guess I'm willing to think about it. Let's see what you look like as a girl, whether you're even remotely feminine and pretty, and maybe I'll actually consider letting you pretend to be a girl, to pretend to be my wife." She giggled, shook her head and raised one eyebrow. "So – get to it. Go dress yourself up as well as you can, then when you've made yourself as pretty and feminine as possible, you come back and knock on my door – and we'll see. I expect you'll look ridiculous, not like a real girl at all, just some absurd attempt by a little faggot to look like a girl, and if that's all I see, then forget it. I'm not interested. If you're going to be my wife, my sweet, obedient little housewife, then you'll have to be sweet and pretty and feminine, and you'll have to walk, talk, dress and act like a pretty little housewife every second of every day." Then she flashed me a quick smirk and said, "So you'd better get started. Go make yourself as pretty as you can, then come to my room and we'll see." With that she turned away into her room, slamming the door behind her. I stood there for a moment, looking at the door, almost unable to grasp what she'd just said, but then I realized that she had actually told me that I could be her wife, her sweet pretty feminine little housewife! My dreams had come true! I could live as a girl, be a girl all day, every day, and I knew that was something that I'd always wanted, so long as she approved of the way I looked. And I knew that I could do that. I'd been dressing up as a girl for so long, wearing lingerie, nylons, high heels, a wig and makeup, shaving my legs, underarms, chest and crotch, and had admired myself in the mirror so many times, that I knew I could do it. So I decided that was what I would do – make myself as sweet, pretty, feminine and lovely as possible, and then go show her what a pretty little wife I could be for her. I just knew I could do it. Miss Jennifer's Sissy Housewife I turned around and went into my room, taking out my three suitcases full of girly things from the closet. I put them on my bed, and began to unpack, laying out on the bed everything that I'd need to make myself as pretty as I possibly could. First I got my two bags of makeup, my makeup mirror and my cute little pink purse and took them to the bathroom counter and set them there. I laid out my perfume, six or seven pairs of earrings and a pretty and very feminine pearl and silver choker. Then I went back and laid everything else out on my bed. She'd said she wanted me to look pretty and feminine, so I knew I had to go for the sweet feminine housewife look, rather than the slutty whore look that I also loved. I laid out all my lingerie, in pink, white & black; brassieres, panties, corsets, nylons and pantyhose, both still in their packages and out of the packages, ones I'd worn before. Six golden blonde wigs in different styles, from almost waist length to the shortest, about nipple length. Big, full 54DD silicon filled falsies as well as smaller 38C falsies. Two of the suitcases held nothing but sexy high heels; spiked platformed patent leather high heeled pumps in hot pink, medium pink with little ankle straps, very light rose pink, black (with hot pink soles), and fucia – all closed toe pumps in the latest styles. I also put out some of the older styles, 2 to 3 inch platforms with 6 & 7 inch heels, and one pair of ultra high 6" black open toes spiked heeled pumps. Then I laid out the different clothes that I thought might make sense for my first appearance as Miss Jennifer's wife. My newest black club dress, a gorgeous chiffon creation from Frederick's of Hollywood with long sleeves and a blousy but very short skirt, my amazingly feminine Isabella sissy dress all in pink chiffon with ruffles and lace everywhere and a matching pink pinafore that I'd gotten from an online sissy store, and several short little mini-skirts in black, white, and different shades of pink and with black, white, and pink lace tops to mix and match with the skirts. My little pee-pee, which had gotten rock hard when my wife was telling me how useless I was, got rock hard again, and I knew I'd better put a rubber on it so that my pre-cum wouldn't get my panties or skirt wet, so of course I did. Then I began to get dressed, loving it as always, loving the way I transformed myself into a sweet, pretty ultra-feminine girl. I narrowed my choice down to three possibilities, either the sissy dress from the Sissy Store, the black club dress from Frederick's of Hollywood, or the gorgeous hot pink cutoff hot pants with a lovely hot pink blouse that I'd only gotten from Frederick's online store a few weeks earlier. I just couldn't decide for several minutes, but then decided that I should try to look as much like a really pretty but fairly conservatively dressed sweet little housewife, just ready to greet her husband at the door after work, and figured that the hot pants outfit might be too slutty, and the sissy dress just a bit too ultra feminine and sexy – so I decided to go all in black lingerie with the black club dress from Fredericks – but with my super favorite Bombshell Pink platformed spike high heeled pumps from Frederick's as a counterpoint to the beautiful black dress. The first thing I put on was my black satin and lace bra from Suddenly Fem, size 38DD, and I quivered all over as I filled it with my big 54DD silicon filled falsies (just the one set of falsies as I didn't want to overdo it by making my tits too big!), loving the look of the full-to-overflowing lacy cups of the lovely Fredericks support bra with lots of uplift to push my big boobs up and together. Next I took out my favorite light golden blonde wig, falling way past my big, full breasts, putting it on and spending nearly five minutes brushing it out so that it fell, soft and silky, about my shoulders and down past the cups of my bra. After my wig came a gorgeous pair of black and pink crotchless panties, also from Fredericks, and then a rubber on my little pee-pee so that my naughty precum wouldn't get my panties, nylons or dress dirty, and a pair of all sheer suntan support nylon pantyhose over my already smooth shaven legs. I loved the feeling of the silky soft nylons over my smooth feminine legs, and I just adored the way my legs looked as I posed there in front of the full length mirror in my adorable blonde wig, black satin and lace bra, and the gorgeous crotchless panties. The final touch was my fantastically beautiful high heeled pumps in Frederick's trademark color Bombshell Pink with inch high platforms and 5" spike heels, contrasting delightfully with my black lingerie making my calves arched in beautiful feminine curves, and forcing me to take tiny little steps when I walked, making my butt sway back and forth delightfully. The last touch before I went to do my makeup was the gorgeous black crepe club dress, low cut to show off the cleavage that my Frederick's push up bra gave me, and very short, not more than 3 inches below my crotch, almost 5 inches above my knees. Dressed completely as a sweet, pretty dainty little housewife I went into the bathroom where all of my lovely feminine makeup waited for me. First came my wonderful light facial powder, and I took my time covering my whole face with it, loving the way it made my complexion soft and feminine. After the powder came my absolutely favorite part – putting on my lipstick. First I smoothed a thick coat of the most beautiful lipstick I'd ever owned, a super bright Fluorescent Hot Pink from the Lime Crime makeup company followed by a super sparkly Milani lip gloss called Starshine. I used a dainty little lip gloss brush to paint the glistening lip gloss over the hot pink lipstick that already covered my lips. Next I used a classic pink blush on my cheeks, mostly on the apples of my cheeks, but also highlighting the upper parts of my cheeks. I followed that with a soft almost sparkling pink powder blush over the dark pink crème rouge, the glistening pink powder slightly toning down the dark pink but highlighting my whole cheeks with the shimmery lighter pink. I just love the way I look when I finish doing my rouge and blush. After that I did my eye shadow, starting with a coat of gorgeous bright shining pink eye dust from the Lime Crime company on my lower eyelids and the crease of my lids, then adding a softer shade called Gurls Love Pink on my upper eyelids, the outer edge of my eyes, and just a tiny bit of the Gurls Love Pink under my lower eyelashes. Finally came my second favorite part, doing my mascara. Since I knew that my wife was expecting me to look like a pretty sweet and good little housewife, I decided to be very careful with my mascara. I'd learned the best way to do my mascara from watching YouTube videos, and using two different mascaras, one for the all plastic comb type applicator and the other for the ultra black thickening mascara that I'd carefully apply to the comb applicator, I took nearly twenty minutes on my lashes, applying at least six coats of very light mascara on both upper and lower lashes, then letting it dry in between as I'd learned by watching makeup tutorials on YouTube until my eyes were complete. I knew that I looked just gorgeous – and hoped desperately that my beautiful wife would approve. Lastly I sprayed my favorite perfume, Youth Dew Amber Nude, on my ankles, knees, the inside of my wrists and below the curve of my jaw and behind my ears, then fluffed out my wig and sprayed the perfume in a fine cloud so it would envelop my golden blonde hair in its scent, then put on my jewelry, delightful dangly silver earrings and the pearl and silver choker. Finally, knowing that I was as pretty and feminine as I'd ever been, I went back to the door to my wife's bedroom to see how she would react. Tremulously I knocked on her door. "What?" she answered. "Um, I finished dressing, dear. I wanted to know if it's ok for me to come in and...and see if you think I look enough like a real girl to be your little housewife for you..." "Fine. Come in and let me see you." So I opened the door and walked in, dressed and made up as pretty as I could make myself, feeling as sweet, feminine, girly and submissive as I ever had in my life, and hoping so, so much that she'd think I looked enough like a real girl to become her little subservient housewife. I was hoping that she would approve of the way I looked, maybe even compliment me, or tease me, at least give me some kind of reaction as I walked in dressed completely as a woman, in my hot pink platform spike heeled pumps, nylons, miniskirt, long blonde wig, earrings and lovely makeup with my huge 54DD fake tits, but she just looked at me without any expression at all. "Hmm." She just kept looking at me with no change of expression, but I could see her eyes traveling up and down over me, moving from my long thick golden blonde wig down over my smooth shaven feminized legs to my hot pink spike heeled pumps, then back up, stopping on my face. "Well, I guess you've been dressing up as a girl a lot, haven't you?" She said. "Um...yes, dear, I...I guess I have." "What's your name anyway, you sissy faggot?" she went on. "I obviously can't call you by a boy's name with you all dressed up like that, wearing all that makeup, and just calling you 'sissy' or 'faggot' may get tiresome. Do you have a girl's name when you're dressed up like that?" 'Umm..." I stammered. "you...you could choose any name that you want, dear. Anything you want is fine, of course." "No. I asked you what your name is. I'm sure that if you've been dressing up as a girl all this time, putting on makeup and wearing a wig and high heels and everything, you must have a girly name for yourself," she said, and sighed, "So what is it? What is your girly name? If you're going to be my little housewife, you shouldn't be shy about telling me your girly name." I knew that I must be blushing so brightly that the reddening of my cheeks must be obvious even through my rouge and sparkly pink blush. "Umm...my name...umm...my name is Tiffany, dear." "Tiffany". She grimaced again. "I suppose I should have expected something like that. Tiffany is definitely a sweet little girly name, although all the Tiffanies that I've ever known have been a bit on the slutty side." She giggled. "but then I guess you'll fit right in." She paused, then ordered, "Come closer." She pointed to the floor right next to the edge of her bed. "Stand right there." Of course I immediately came towards her, taking tiny little steps in the gorgeous pink pumps. She looked down at my legs. "I see you shave your legs. Did you just do that now, or have you been shaving your legs regularly? Of course I wouldn't have any idea, because as we both know, I haven't seen you without your pants on for quite a while." "I...I always keep my legs shaved, dear. I...I don't think my legs look very nice in nylons unless I keep them shaved..." My voice trailed off, but then I went on, "And...and I shave my underarms and....um...and my groin too, Miss Jennifer. Except for a tiny patch of hair...I keep myself as soft and feminine...down there...as I can." "Well, I have to agree with you about shaving your legs, and I guess if you're going to shave your legs and pretend to be a girl, shaving your underarms and everything makes sense. "And you've obviously had a lot of practice putting on your makeup. Lean down here." I bent forward at the waist, leaning closer to her. "Yes, I have to admit you've actually done a decent job on your makeup. Your lipstick, your pink blush and eye shadow, even your mascara look...well...quite feminine. I'm surprised. You don't look like a boy wearing girly makeup, you actually look like a girl." She pursed her lips. "So...all right. I'll let you be my little housewife. "As I said, you are a little on the slutty side with those huge tits, all that makeup, that short little black dress with those bright pink spiked high heeled pumps and those big whore hoop earrings. But I guess I can put up with it." And she nodded, then waved towards the door dismissively. "Fine – so get on with it. There's dirty laundry in my closet, and you need to vacuum and dust the whole house. And the bathrooms need cleaning, too. Don't forget the toilets and make sure you clean the kitchen completely." She looked at me sternly. "I expect everything to be spotless." She started to look away, then looked back and made a shooing motion with one hand. "Now go on, get started. If you're going to be my wife, you need to get started on your chores." "Yes, dear." I paused. "Um...do you think...maybe...just once in a while, if I'm a really good girl and do a really good job on all my chores, if I'm a perfect little wife, that maybe once in a while I could see your breasts? Please? Just...just see them, just once in a while, maybe?" She sighed. "I knew it. Here is comes. Sex. I told you, you little pansy faggot – no sex! The idea of sex with you is repulsive, disgusting. Thinking of having you touch me makes me sick. I have no interest in sex with you. Sex with you was always a complete waste of time. That little thing you call a pee-pee is ridiculous it's so little, you never satisfied me, not even once. Quite honestly, you disgust me. I mean – what kind of man would wish he were a woman, would want be to be a wife? What kind of man would want to dress up as a girl, shave his legs and have his ears pierced so he could wear girly earrings all the time and spend all day and every night cleaning and doing laundry like a housewife? I'll tell you what kind – a sissy. A pansy. A little faggot. No real man would ever want that, and here you are begging me to be able to do it. You're a joke, a ridiculous disgusting little pansy faggot, and you can completely forget about every having any kind of sexual relations with me. Ever. "You've always been totally useless as a man, I mean, that little thing of yours is so tiny...it's so small that sometimes I couldn't even tell when you put it inside me. It's ridiculous. Just like you, completely ridiculous. So I guess it makes sense for me to turn you into my wife – at least that way I'll get something worthwhile from you, finally. Because so far, you've been completely worthless, a complete waste." "You are totally disgusting, a worthless, useless little sissy faggot, absolutely repulsive to me, to any woman. That little thing that you call a pee-pee is a complete joke, I'm surprised you're even able to piss out of it, it's so unbelievably tiny. No real man would have a pee-pee that tiny and no woman on earth would want to be anywhere near a little sissy faggot with a pee-pee like that, smaller than a person's little finger, even when it's hard. And of course the only way it gets hard is when you're being completely submissive, totally dominated by a woman. "So since you're begging to be my wife, I'll let you pretend to be a girl. You're ridiculous, such a little faggot, you little pansy. And you can completely forget about having sex with me ever again. I just told you that. Forget it, you disgust me, you worthless pussy." "Yes, dear. I know I'm worthless as a man. I know I disgust you, I know I'm not good enough to ever have sex with you ever. Or to ever touch you. I know I'm a worthless little faggot pansy. And I know you'll never let me suck your breasts, or kiss them or anything. But maybe...just once in a while...if I'm a really good little wife, and I do everything like a good little girl...maybe you could just let me see your breasts. Please? Maybe? Just see them....maybe?" She rolled her eyes and sighed again. "Why? So that you can go away and masturbate while you think about my tits? Is that it? So you can go off by yourself, all dressed up like a little pansy, and jerk off thinking about my tits? Is that why you want to see them?" I stared down at the floor, wincing, my eyes clamped shut as I forced myself to tell the truth. "Umm...yes, dear. That's why...so I can...so I can go away and think about your beautiful breasts...while...umm....while I masturbate. I love thinking about your beautiful breasts while I masturbate." She shook her head and turned away, tossing over her shoulders, "Forget it. That's one of the most disgusting things I've ever heard. I have no interest in exposing my breasts to you so that I have to think about you playing with that worthless little cock of yours, to think about you masturbating while you think about my tits. Forget it. Now get away from me. You are just too disgusting for words. Get out of here and go do your chores you little faggot. The only time you'll ever see my tits again is when some other guy, some real man, is fucking me and playing with them." I looked down at my nylon covered feet in my spiked high heeled pumps, holding the big basket of laundry. "Yes, dear. Thank you for letting me be your little housewife, dear. I love being your little wife, Tiffany." And I did. I instantly loved the name, and I immediately began thinking of myself as Tiffany, and I proceeded to do all of my chores for the first time ever, doing all the laundry, then folding it and putting it away for my wife, loving it when I was able to carry in the basket of folded laundry and move around her room putting it all away, knowing that she was probably occasionally glancing over at me, all dressed up as her sexy, pretty, super feminine little housewife. While waiting for the laundry I put away all the clean dishes from the dishwasher, then cleaned everything in the sink and loaded it into the dishwasher, wiped down all the counters and cabinets in the kitchen, vacuumed the entire house, including of course my wife's bedroom, which was also delightful, moving around vacuuming in my skirt, nylons, high heels, makeup and wig, then dusted the whole house and finally cleaned both bathrooms, scrubbing out the toilets and the bathtub and shower stall with Comet cleaner to make sure they were spotless. The best parts were vacuuming and dusting Miss Jennifer's room, and cleaning her bathroom, because I noticed her looking up and watching me several times, her eyes following me around the room as I cleaned, still of course all dressed up, my long blonde hair falling way past my shoulders, walking in little tiny steps in my 5" spike heeled pumps. It took me almost 3 hours to finish everything, and when I finally had everything done I went back to my bedroom, touched up my makeup and put on even more mascara, blush, lipstick, and lipgloss, brushed my hair again, sprayed on more perfume, then went to my wife's bedroom and softly knocked on the door. "Yes?" she answered, actually sounding almost inviting, not angry. "Um...I'm finished with my chores, dear. Did you have anything else that you want me to do? Or did you want to inspect the house, to see if I did everything properly to your satisfaction?" "Come in here, Tiffany." "Yes, dear," I said, and pushed open the door and went in, totally conscious of being completely dressed as a super feminine sexpot, of how much mascara and lipstick I had on, how radically high my 5" spike heeled pumps were, how big my tits were, and how short the little mini skirt of my dress was. "Come here," she repeated, setting down her book on the bed beside her and pointing to the floor right next to her bed. Of course I walked in my tiny dainty little steps over to her, stopping exactly where she'd pointed. "So." She said, and then just looked at me, saying nothing more. She just looked at me, first at my face, completely made up as a slutty ultra feminine girl, especially my glistening lipstick and thick heavy mascara which I had touched up just before knocking on her door, then down over me, her eyes taking in my huge tits, my short little skirt, so short that the tops of my stockings and garters showed, then down to my 5" spiked high heels. Miss Jennifer's Sissy Housewife "So, you're my little wife. My sweet obedient little housewife. And you did all your little chores? Kitchen, dishes all done, my laundry all folded and put away. House completely vacuumed and dusted? Bathrooms, toilets all scrubbed clear?" Her eyebrows were raised inquiringly. "Yes, dear. Everything's done." "Hmm. Well I guess I better check and see if you're as worthless as a housewife as you are as a man. Because if you are – then this joke is over. If you didn't do a good job everywhere, then you're going to strip off all those ridiculous girls clothes, wipe that slutty makeup off your face – although I will admit you did a pretty good job on your makeup – you must have been wearing makeup a lot, you seem to have had a lot of practice – and go back to just being a useless little man. "I have to admit – I never thought I'd feel like this, but I guess I actually hope that you did a good job – having you as my obedient little housewife seems like it would be a lot better than having to put up with you as the ridiculous, worthless little boy that you've always been. "So fine. Let's go find out. I'll follow you – take me around the house; show me what you've done. And of course I did. Prancing daintily along in my spiked heels, trying to walk as femininely as possible, trying to step in a straight line, daintily putting one foot in front of the other and hoping that it would make my bottom swing back and forth in as feminine a way as possible I led her to the kitchen, then through the living room and other rooms, and down the hall to the bathroom. She ran her fingers over the cabinets in the kitchen, and over the stove top, then over the book shelves and exposed surfaces in the living room checking for dust, and in the bathroom she inspected the toilets carefully. Finally she stood up and gave me a sort of half smile, actually looking pleased. "Well, Tiffany. We seem to have found your purpose in life. You actually – to my surprise – did a very good job on all your little housewife chores. Everything is great. So I guess I'll keep you this way. You keep everything like this every day – and I mean every SINGLE day – and I'll let you stay as my little housewife. I want my laundry done every day, sheets changed, bed made, kitchen and bathrooms spotless. Vacuum and dust the whole house. And of course take out all the garbage every day. Yep. I think this is going to work. Now – go bring me a glass of champagne, I'm going to lie back down and read some more." And she turned away, dismissing me completely. Living as Miss Jennifer's Obedient Little Housewife That was the beginning of my life as a girly-girl, as the dainty, sweet, feminine, submissive little wife I'd always wanted to be. From then on I lived as my wife's darling little ultra-feminine housewife. I got up well before her every morning so that I could put on my makeup and get dressed as her little wife. I wore eye shadow, mascara, and pink powder blush, oodles of lipstick, lip gloss and perfume every second of every day. I let my hair grow and my wonderful wife told me that when it reached nipple length she'd let me go to the beauty parlor and both have my ears pierced and get my hair done properly. Until then I was to always wear one of my pretty blonde wigs so that I looked properly pretty & feminine. She also told me to be very careful with my nails because when my hair was long enough to go the beauty parlor she was going to let me have a manicure and get my nails painted at the same time. I got up early every morning and dressed myself properly, first shaving my legs, face, underarms, chest and groin completely, then plucking my eyebrows so that I would be soft and feminine all over. I was never without one of my many satin and lace bras, my huge 54DD silicon filled falsies, a tight corset, nylons, panties and high spiked heels. At first I found it hard to walk around all day in the 5 and 6 inch heels that were the only girl's shoes that I had. They'd been fine for just occasional wear when I dressed up when my wife wasn't home, played with my little peepee until it squirted, and then changed out of them, but for all day every day use at first it was difficult, but I knew that if I was going to be a pretty little housewife I'd have to get used to wearing sexy high heels all the time and eventually I got used to it. It became very natural to spend my entire day doing my wifely chores wearing the high spiked platformed heels that I loved. Every day I did my wife's laundry, put brand new clean sheets on her bed, cleaned the kitchen and bathrooms including scrubbing the toilets, and vacuumed and dusted the entire house, then did the grocery shopping and made dinner. It was always very embarrassing to have to go out of the house on errands because although I was allowed to wear a tee shirt and jeans, with penny loafers, and I didn't have to wear really a lot of makeup, my wife did insist that since I was, as she put it, "pretending to be a girl", and "pretending to be her little housewife" I had to always wear a bra (without my falsies), corset, nylons and panties whenever I left the house, with just a very light weight plain white tee shirt and jeans over my lingerie. The tee shirt was so thin that my bra was actually visible through my tee shirt even though she usually let me wear either a pink or white bra and rarely insisted that I wear a black bra. But even when I wore a white bra, it was still visible through my tee shirt, and of course all of my bras were extremely feminine, very lacy and sexy, so everyone who saw me could tell that I was wearing a bra. And even without falsies the cups of my bra still pushed the fabric of the tee shirt out enough in front that it was obvious that there was more there than just my chest. My wife also never let me wear socks, just my nylons, so for anyone who really looked, you could see the nylons between the bottom of my jeans and my penny loafers. And of course since I was "pretending to be a girl" and my wife said that no proper housewife would ever go out without any makeup at all, I had to wear enough mascara, eye shadow, blush and lipstick so that she could tell that I was wearing makeup when she looked at me. I tried to use as light a coat of mascara, as little eye shadow (always pink so that it wouldn't be as obvious), and as little lipstick and blush on my cheeks as possible. But although it wasn't really, really obvious, anyone who was up close to me – like the checker in the supermarket, or the people at the cleaners, or the cashier at the gas station or the car wash – could definitely tell that I was wearing makeup. On warm days she'd have me wear really, really short shorts with all sheer pantyhose; shorts so short that they showed off the curve of my bottom and sometimes even a little bit of my panties, and cute little pink tennis shoes, not the designer ones most people wore, but the plain ones popular in the 50's and 60's, in pink. Since my legs were always completely smooth shaven, it was very embarrassing to have everyone looking at my feminized legs in those all sheer pantyhose. Of course I also had to wear perfume since no proper housewife would ever go out without at least a little bit of perfume, and so once again anyone who was up close to me would catch the scent of the perfume, further adding to my embarrassment and humiliation. To make it even more embarrassing for me, she also made me carry my wallet, money, and makeup in an adorable little pink clutch purse so that even if people didn't notice my makeup and perfume, they couldn't miss the fact that I was carrying a cute little pink purse. What made it even more humiliating was that she wasn't always home when I left the house, or when I got home, but I knew that if she were there when I got ready to leave I had to go say goodbye to her – and pass 'makeup inspection' to be sure that I had on enough makeup to satisfy her. If she weren't there when I left, I knew that she might be there when I got home, so I again had to be sure to be wearing enough makeup to pass my 'makeup inspection' so that if she were there when I got home I wouldn't be punished. She'd warned me repeatedly that if I ever didn't have a sufficient amount of makeup on to pass her 'inspection' she would then make me wear extra heavy makeup – oodles of slutty eye shadow, rouge, lipstick and mascara – so that I would be completely humiliated having to go out with that much makeup while still dressed as a boy. And occasionally – even if I had on what was usually enough makeup to satisfy her – she would laughingly make me open my purse before I left and add mascara or lipstick or eye shadow or rouge or perfume – or some of everything – so that I would be very obviously wearing makeup when I went out. I of course had to take all of the laundry to the dry cleaners, including not only my wife's work and club clothes, but also my sexy slutty things and my different maid's uniforms. To make sure that my trips to the dry cleaners were as embarrassing as possible she made me go to a wide variety of different cleaners, so there were almost always new and different people up front at the counter, which meant I almost always had the humiliation of having to take in one of my many maid's uniforms, one or more of my lusciously ruffled petticoats, and lots of sexy slutty skirts and dresses – all while I was dressed as a boy in a tee shirt and slacks with my brassiere visible through the tee shirt, wearing makeup and a slight spray of perfume, and my hair, which grew longer and longer, but still wasn't long enough for me to be allowed to go to a beauty salon and get it properly styled, in a pony tail. And of course since I was the little housewife, I did all of the grocery shopping, and it was always incredibly embarrassing to walk through one of the many Safeway stores in the city with all my makeup and the strong scent of perfume, wearing those adorably short cutoffs, nylons, and my little pink tennis shoes and carrying my little pink clutch purse while everyone who saw me gaped at me. To make it even more humiliating and embarrassing Miss Jennifer always told me which of the many different stores I was to go to, so it was almost always a new experience, with new people gaping at me, staring at the way I was dressed and made up. All of which meant that every time I went out I was dressed as a boy, but wearing lingerie under my boy's things and wearing makeup and perfume so that I looked (and felt) like a little pansy faggot, which of course is what I am.