This is my first crossdressing story. I wrote this Jul 15 - 17, 1997.
This story contains scenes of explicit consensual F/M and F/F sex and M-F crossdressing.
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I’m a writer by trade and make a pretty decent living at it. I write private, commissioned pieces, not intended for the general public. Because of this, relatively few people ever actually read what I write. My wife, Charlotte, mentioned a few times that she’d like to read some of my work; it’s only natural for her to be curious about what I really did, especially since my office is in our house. I showed her a couple of brochures I wrote for an adults only club, similar to Club Med, in the Bahamas and a travel agency that specialized in adult oriented resorts. In retrospect, I may not have chosen the best examples to show her, but I figured she’d suspect I was hiding something from her if I showed her the boring software user manuals I usually write. Since I’m a real klutz on the computer, she probably wouldn’t even have believed I wrote them. She looked at the brochures, said something like “interesting line of work” and handed them back to me.
Like almost everyone else I suppose, I felt I had ’the great American novel’ inside me, just waiting to be written. I’d spring it on the world at the most opportune time, make myself a ton of money, get my fifteen minutes of fame and ride off into the sunset to live a life of leisure. Yeah, right. Well, I WAS actually writing a novel and, while I didn’t really think it was going to set the world on fire, I did think it had a chance at being published and at least moderately successful. I didn’t tell anyone I was writing it, both for the embarrassment if it didn’t get published and because everyone would want to read it before it was done, offer suggestions and possibly ruin the whole story. So, I toiled away surreptitiously on my great literary work.
I’m generally pretty conscientious about closing down my files when I’m away from my computer, but sometimes I forget or think I will be gone for only a minute or two so I don’t bother. I had stepped out for a few minutes one day and when I returned, my novel was up on the screen in my word processor. I was taken aback a little because I am extra careful with that particular file. I wasn’t too worried, though, as I had been working on it earlier and just assumed I left it open. Something else strange was that I found a note on the dining room table from my wife saying that she had a little shopping to do but would be back in a couple of hours. The reason this was strange was that I wasn’t expecting her to come home in the middle of the day, and she knew I wasn’t — so, why leave a note? I put it out of my mind and went back to work on my latest commission.
Charlotte and I had been married almost 5 years, and I thought we had a pretty solid, respectful and loving relationship. We talked about what was going on in our lives, what we wanted from life, how we were going to prepare for the “golden years” and so on. We were very much the modern couple, sharing household duties, no kids and both working. She was the personnel director of a Fortune 1000 company with its headquarters in our town. Her specialty was sexual harassment, on which she had written her thesis for her MBA from an Ivy League school back east. She rarely complained about anything, except money. She was constantly upset that we were not really well off financially. She drew a good salary from the company, of course, and I made a decent living from my writing. Her friends from college were all pulling down good salaries, too, or married into wealth, and she felt cheated out of a big part of life that she thought was due her. Exhibiting a trait that is usually associated with men, she truly lusted after a Ferrari, especially a 328GTS. Nice car, that one — drop top, sexy two seater with power to spare and really nice, throaty exhaust sound. However, we were both taking care of parents with serious medical problems, which was a major drain on our bank accounts. No one else in either of our families could afford to do anything for them so it fell to us. We loved our parents dearly, and would never even consider cutting back on their support, but the drain on our resources was a constant source of irritation.
Then, there were the two skeletons I was hiding in my closet, so to speak. The first is what I did for the 7 years before we got married. As far as my wife knew, and still knows, I was a traveling salesman for an electronics company. Even when we were dating, I was away from home a lot, which is just what you’d expect from such a job. It’s not important who I worked for or what I did, but suffice it to say that I became an expert in clandestine electronic surveillance and we’ll leave it at that. I was also an amateur radio operator so I was quite adept at wireless communications, as well. My other skeleton was that I’m a crossdresser, and have been since shortly after puberty set in some twenty years ago. I enjoy wearing lingerie and masturbating, but that’s about the extent of it. I don’t want to be a woman, or even dress completely and try to pass as one in public. I also have no interest, sexually, in men. This may be hard to believe, but I also had no sexual interest in any other women! I never quite got up the nerve to tell my wife about my hobby, but intended to after my novel was published (even if I had to publish it myself). I figured that would be a good time for me to come out of the closet, for two reasons. One, she would be proud that I had a full-length work published, thus possibly softening the blow. The other was that my novel is somewhat autobiographical, with crossdressing and sexual fantasies playing major roles in the story.
We had fairly active sex lives and had had some mildly kinky sexual adventures. One pretty tame one you hear about all the time. We went to a Halloween party dressed as a Prince and Cinderella. You guessed it, Charlotte went as the Prince and I as Cinderella. We threw the costumes together on late notice so they really weren’t very good. She was obviously a young, attractive woman dressed as a dapper dan, and I looked like the human male equivalent of a horse that had been ridden hard and put away wet one too many times, wearing a dress. This was shortly after I left my job as the “traveling salesman” and my body had not yet recovered from being “on the road” so much. I think she noticed that I kinda liked wearing the dress, though. Over time, we talked about some of our fantasies, though I didn’t tell her my wildest ones. I had no idea at the time that she was holding back so much from me, either. I had made it quite clear early on that I would not abide being restrained in any way, being struck in any way or striking someone else, or any sexual activity with anyone but her. Even so, I had allowed her to cuff me a few times with furry cuffs and Velcro fasteners, from which I knew I could escape — one of the talents I picked up on my previous job and which she didn’t know I possessed.
In doing research for my book, I read a lot of stories by and about crossdressers, transvestites, and transgenderism. Most were highly charged erotic pieces, which fed my crossdressing fantasies, but also taught me to be suspicious of any sudden interest by my wife dress me up. Even so, she caught me by surprise when she came in later that day with a number of packages from various clothing stores. Nordstrom and Victoria’s Secret were among the names adorning her shopping bags, and I was intrigued. My wife is not one to go out and buy herself a lot of lingerie or other sexy clothes, though she doesn’t mind me buying her anything and then wearing it. After a half hour or so, she called me into our bedroom. Not knowing what to expect, but certainly hoping for some great sex, I went upstairs and walked in. Surprise! She had laid out on the bed two identical sets of matching nighties, frilly garter belts, thong panties and stockings. She definitely had me pegged. On the floor were two pair of matching Ferrari red pumps with 5 inch heels. I wasn’t too sure about them, since shoes never factored into any of my fantasies. Then I remembered that there were heels in several scenes in my book, and they were always bright red with 5 inch heels. The light was beginning to dawn!
She said “I read some of your book while you were out earlier today. It looks like it has a lot of promise and could be a really big seller. Just the thing to get me on the right financial track. Well, I’m going to help you with your research and give you first hand experience with your fantasies. Strip off all your clothes, get in the tub and soap up with the lotion I put out for you. I’ll be right in to give you a hand. Be careful that you don’t get any of the lotion on your head.”
First of all, I didn’t want or appreciate any help with research. This is exactly why I didn’t want anyone to read the book before it was done. Secondly, these were not “my” fantasies, but were just part of the story line. And what did she me by getting her on the right financial track, rather than us? I determined that it was best to hold my tongue for now and headed for the bathroom. As I was removing my trousers, I noticed the record light on the video camera was lit. She wanted a souvenir of this session. “This girl is a lot kinkier than I gave her credit for,” I said to myself with a smile, “but she’s in for a big surprise.” She didn’t notice the smirk on my face as I finished stripping and stepped into the tub.
I worked the lotion up into a lather and spread it over my body. I didn’t know for sure, but suspected this was a hair dissolving cream. I was right, and didn’t mind it a bit! Charlotte told me to let it set for 20 minutes then wash it off in the tub. She came in and gave me a booklet and said “Read this while you’re just sitting there. It’ll give you some ideas for your book and let you know what I’ve got in store for you. By the way, I found your stash of lingerie and crossdressing stories. I know that it’s a harmless hobby, and it doesn’t bother me at all that you crossdress, but I’m really hurt that you didn’t tell me about it. You betrayed my trust, and now you’re going to pay for it.”
The title of the booklet was Bringing Out the Inner Woman in Your Husband and subtitled “Exploiting his Weakness for Your Gain.” Whatever she was up to, at least I knew she was serious. I also now knew that, in addition to being more kinky than I ever imagined, she was much more vindictive than I could have guessed. I had to stifle a laugh, though, when I remembered the video camera and tape she obviously planned to use to blackmail me. “Let’s play it out and see what happens,” I thought to myself.
I read the booklet she gave me. It was of the same ilk as many of the stories I read on the internet, wherein the woman is mean spirited and clearly hates the male in the story, forcing him into degrading and humiliating sex acts and feminization far beyond what he would have done without being drugged or blackmailed. I was determined that that would never happen to me, no matter what she did. Another thing I learned from reading those stories is that once you give in to her demands, no matter what she says about the situation being temporary, you’ve had it — there would be no end to it. So, I was not going to give in, and vowed to call her bluff at the first opportunity. Still, as long as I was enjoying what was going on, there was no reason not to play along with her. She hadn’t given me anything to eat or drink, and she was as afraid of needles as I, so I was more aroused than worried at this point. After losing all my body hair in the tub, Charlotte rubbed me down with a flowery smelling cream, adding to the overall feminine effect.
Unfortunately, I had brought up with me an open bottle of mineral water I had been drinking downstairs. Being rather thirsty when I came out of the bathroom, I took a big swig of water from the bottle, after looking at it for evidence of tampering.
Charlotte instructed me to put on the clothes she had laid out for us. I like to put my panties on first, then the garter belt, running the tabs through the panties, then the stockings. It was quite a sexy feeling, pulling the stockings up my smooth, hairless legs. I was horny as I’d ever been, and my now also hairless cock was straining at the front of my panties, a feeling I particularly like. She seemed to think it was weird to put on the panties then the garter belt rather than the other way around, but didn’t say anything. I noticed that she had completely shaved her pubic area, which I had tried on numerous occasions to get her to do. Something else new and exciting! As I pulled the nightie over my head, I was feeling pretty light-headed and realized that she had spiked my water. I passed out as I was putting on my shoes.
When I woke up, I was in the uncomfortable position of being face down on the bed, with the torso of my body draped over a stool (which was mercifully covered with a soft, thick towel) so that I was looking down on the bed, with my knees and lower legs actually on the bed. My wrists were fastened with the same fuzzy cuffs she used before to a strap running across the bed just in front of me. My ankles were similarly strapped at the foot of the bed. I was strapped to the stool with a long belt around my waist, which I could easily undo if my hands were free.
I’m sure Charlotte felt I was helpless, which was far from the case. With my secret knowledge about the video camera, though, I had to keep up appearances and protest what she had done to me. I had to be careful how loudly I growled, however. I certainly didn’t want her gagging me, for both the discomfort of the gag itself in my mouth and for the loss of effect if my protests couldn’t be heard on the tape she didn’t know was being made.
“What are you doing to me, Charlotte? Let me up. Unstrap my wrists and legs, you know I’m not going to hurt you,” I yelled, hopefully not too loudly. I didn’t see a gag in the room, but she could have hidden it as easily as she did the cuffs and stool.
“Shut up, bitch! I know you aren’t going to hurt me, you’re tied up.” She moved to the head of the bed, put her hand under my chin and pulled it up till our eyes met. “But rest assured, I’m going to hurt you, and hurt you badly. Not physically, though. Well, not very much anyway. That’s not my thing either. I’m going to mess with your mind until you have no concept of your current life. By the time I’m done with you, you’re going to love being gang banged by a bunch of rough construction workers. Your only desire in this world will be to serve me as my female sex slave. I may even have you turned into a real woman. Now you know my deepest, darkest fantasy, dear. I want to completely dominate my husband!”
She let out an evil-sounding laugh at that statement and continued “You’re going to finish your novel, sell it and turn all your money over to me. I’m finally going to get what’s coming to me.”
“That’s for sure,” I thought to myself.
“No more money for your parents. And my mother, bless her heart, is finally going to have that big heart attack, with a little help from me, of course. All that money will be mine. Finally, I can move into Glenn Wood and get my Ferrari, and hold my head up at parties with the girls. One thing I’ll have that they don’t is my very own sissy maid — YOU!”
Again that nasty cackle.
All during her tirade, the video camera was pointed almost directly in her face, so it caught everything she said — if not the sound itself, at least her lips were clearly visible. My face, on the other hand, was completely obscured, as the camera saw only the back of my head. While appearing to be straining at the cuffs on my wrists and ankles, I was laughing in Charlotte’s face. She mistook it for hysterics, as I hoped she would, and just laughed again.
I had to admit, the situation made a great scene for a book, but it was not going into the one I had almost completed. I was already working on a sequel in my head, while still keeping up the appearance of struggling to get free. I decided I’d better get some verbal complaints in, being careful not to be abusive of her but to appear the loving, caring husband I felt I really was. If I played it right, I could guarantee it looked like I was being held completely against my will and get her to irrevocably implicate herself in her planned crime.
“Please, Charlotte, let me go. You can have the book. I’ll tell the publisher you actually wrote it. I love you. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. You know that. You’ve got to believe me.”
I laid it on thick.
“Wait a minute. You can’t seriously believe that you could get away with killing your own mother! Even if the law didn’t catch you, you couldn’t live with yourself. You love your mother. Surely the money doesn’t mean that much to you! And how would you do it so you could get away with it, anyway?”
I had to get her to explain her plan, for the benefit of those who were going to see the tape later. I also had no idea at this point that she already had somebody working on her plan with her. After tonight, I think she’ll never stop surprising me.
“Oh, you silly little girl. You don’t know me at all. You remember my grad school roommate, Suzanne? She’s married to a doctor and got me a drug I can give dear mother that will cause her heart to just stop, and it can’t be detected in the blood. She’s bringing it over here tonight and should be here in a half hour or so. Here’s another surprise for you, bitch. She and I have been lovers since college, and she’s way better in the sack than you ever were.”
I guessed that was meant to emasculate me, and probably break me completely. However, it was no surprise to me that she was making it with her girlfriend. Her husband and I go way back, to well before she met him. He was a “traveling salesman” too, and has regaled me many a time with stories of his wife’s attempts to avoid sex with him. Seems she’s a dyed-in-the-wool lesbian, and only married Doc for the 7 figures he pulls down every year from his extremely lucrative plastic surgery practice. He didn’t much care about the sex; he had more than he could handle with all his over-sexed and under appreciated female patients. Now my wife has implicated his wife in conspiracy to commit murder. This just keeps getting better and better!
So far I was safe, and under no serious threat. Since I was only cuffed to the bed with those easily removed fuzzy cuffs, I did not consider myself to be restrained. She had not tried to get me to have sex with anyone else and she hadn’t hit me (yet), so there was no need to call her bluff. Since she was talking about making me a slave, she must be planning to flog me or something at some point today. I decided to ride it out. My fantasy was still not fulfilled, and I was beginning to suspect that she had a very similar fantasy, though from a somewhat different perspective.
While I was thinking all this, and still pretending to try to escape as well as protesting verbally, Charlotte had gone to the foot of the bed where I couldn’t see her. I was getting my hopes up that my fantasy was about to become reality, at least to some extent. I wanted it to happen with her, but in a loving and respectful atmosphere. This situation was dominated by her apparent, and previously undemonstrated, hatred of me. Not the best way for it to happen, but I still knew I could stop it if I had to. I was hopeful, and strained at my bonds to see what she was doing, being careful not to pull so hard that the cuffs actually come off.
She walked back to the front of the bed and Yes! She had put on a strap-on dildo! It’s my fantasy starting to come true! She crawled up on the bed and said “It’s time for you to start learning your duties, my little sissy slave girl. Suck me good and get your pussy wet for me. You’re a virgin now but you won’t be for much longer.”
My cock was hard as a baseball bat by that time. This was nearly perfect! I didn’t care for the context, that of supposedly turning me into her slave, but I could live with it. I protested loudly, to keep up appearances but she unceremoniously shoved the rubber dick in my mouth. Since I’d never done anything like that before, I wasn’t very good at it and she let me know it. I kept at it, though, and soon she had a tremendous orgasm.
“That wasn’t too bad, bitch, but Suzanne will have to give you lessons. She’s good at it and really loves it. That dickless husband of hers was worthless to her in bed, but she knows she can come to me any time she needs to.”
Now, I’ve seen Doc naked on more than one occasion and dickless is far from an apt description. He’s 10 inches if he’s an inch, and must be three inches around! The ladies love him! Guess that means his wife is no lady, eh?
I was getting really turned on by all this, but then I remembered the camera. It took all my willpower, but I managed to kill my raging erection. At this point, Charlotte didn’t really know that her using a strap-on on me was one of my fantasies; she just assumed it was because it was in my book. As she moved up onto the bed behind me and started massaging my hole, she reached through my crotch and massage by dick. Since it was limp, she said “Well, little girl, it seems you’re not all that excited about me taking your virginity, after all. That’s too bad for you. I’m just going to have to rape you then.”
“Perfect,” I thought, “Now she’s acknowledged that she’s raping me.”
“Get used to it. You’re going to be my sex toy for as long as I want to keep you around. I’ll probably sell you to slave traders when I get tired of you.”
While saying this, she had covered the dildo with Vaseline and began probing my hole with it. I don’t think she intended to be gentle, but her position on the bed didn’t give her good leverage so she couldn’t just plunge the entire length into me all at once. It took nearly a dozen strokes to get it all the way in. As she worked the dildo in and out of me, I was in seventh heaven. I couldn’t help myself and emptied a huge load into my panties. Fortunately, the camera sitting on the dresser was above the level of my body so it couldn’t record me cumming. Of course, the whole time I was protesting vociferously, no longer worried about being gagged and acting it up for the camera, even though I loved what she was doing to me. She had another crashing orgasm and fell over on top of me, gasping for breath.
It had been quite a workout for her, and great sex for both of us, but now I had to figure out how to wrap this all up. As she got up off me, she pinched my butt, reached over to the video camera, turned it off and said “Well, girlfriend, how’s it feel to have sex like a real woman?”
“Actually, I enjoyed it a lot. I really had you fooled with that limp dick trick, didn’t I? Thank you very much for fulfilling my fantasy. Too bad I’m not going to be able to fulfill yours, though.”
I figured it was safe to needle her now, and I wanted her a little off guard. She had a very quizzical look on her face as she started to say something just as the front doorbell rang.
“At last, Suzanne is here. Time for you to start learning how to be a good slave,” she said as she slapped my butt and headed out of the bedroom to let Suzanne in.
I didn’t know how much time I had but I knew it wouldn’t be long before they both came up to the bedroom. I had considered my options as best I could up to this point and had basically two courses of action. I could release myself then just overpower the two women, or I could let the game play itself out for a while longer. I really wanted to see the two of them get it on, which was only possible if I kept playing along. There was an increased risk to me, of course, but I felt the possible enjoyment outweighed the risk, so decided to let it ride. Too, she had not even mentioned the tape yet, and I really wanted to drop that bombshell on her for full effect.
I heard them giggling in the foyer, and Suzanne asking if I was really tied up upstairs. “Yes, and I took her cherry with this not five minutes ago! It was great! She’s a lousy cocksucker, though. She needs your tutelage for that. I videotaped the whole thing, including putting on all his lingerie without any coercion by me, just like you said. He won’t want that made public, that’s for sure!”
“Great! I can handle his cocksucking training all right. We can get started on that later, though. Right now, I want you, big time. Clean that nasty mess off your cock and let’s show your new slave how real women make love. We’ll take care of your mother as we planned and then we’ll get rid of that lowlife husband of mine.”
“Whatever you want, lover. This is great, I’ve got my best girlfriend with me, a new sissy maid and when I sell his book, we’ll have all the money we need to live the life we deserve. I’ll get us some wine and we’ll go upstairs.”
“This could turn out great. I just need a break when she gets me off the bed. If she doesn’t cuff me with something I can’t remove, I’m home free,” I thought.
As they came into the room, I was very polite to them both, at first. “Good evening, Suzanne. It’s nice to see you again. I’m sure by now my dear wife has told you the whole story of how she fulfilled me deepest fantasy tonight. Thank you again, Charlotte. I’ll treasure the experience always. Now, if you’ll please remove these cuffs, I’ll make way for you on the bed. I’m sure you’ve got some disgusting, perverted sex act you want to perform together.”
“Oh, we’ll get you out of our way, all right, but those cuffs aren’t coming off,” said Charlotte as she came out of the bathroom after cleaning off her dildo. That was exactly what I wanted to hear!
As they both got on the bed in front of me, Suzanne grabbed my right arm while Charlotte unwrapped it from the strap on the bed. They then strapped my two wrists together and moved behind me. They unstrapped both my ankles and swung me off the bed, except for my arms. They left the stool strapped to my chest, for some reason. Well, I figured I’d just have to use it to my advantage somehow. They then unwrapped my left wrist from the strap on the bed and moved me over to the bedroom door, which was now closed and locked. In their minds, they weren’t taking any chances. I managed to hit the record button on the video camera as we walked by it. While Suzanne wrapped my wrists to the door knob, Charlotte removed the two straps around the bed. They both climbed up on the bed then and started French kissing each other.
“This is great!” I thought. “I can get away any time I want, as long as they’re distracted or out of the room for enough time. That shouldn’t be a problem. They left the wine glasses where I can get to them, and my ditty bag is under the dresser by my right leg. And, I get to watch what should be a great lezzie show!”
“Now watch as real women get it on, bitch,” Charlotte snarled as she rolled Suzanne over onto her knees. Kneeling behind her, Charlotte pulled Suzanne’s short skirt up over her butt, revealing a very sexy garter belt around her waist and white fishnet stockings on her smooth, sexy legs. She quickly entered Suzanne’s pussy with the dildo and plunged in all the way. She slowly pulled out, pushed back in and began a sensuous rhythm that was obviously driving both of them to ecstasy. After about ten minutes of watching this, I was ready to get off. I maneuvered the stool still strapped to my chest so that it rubbed against my dick straining against the panties I was still wearing. I soon shot my wad again and collapsed in a heap on the floor.
The collapse was meant to cover the action of releasing my hands from the cuffs and getting to my ditty bag. Just after I collapsed, the women laughed at me, of course assuming that I had done so from being completely spent. To them I was now perfectly harmless and not worth worrying about. Charlotte took that opportunity to pull out of Suzanne’s pussy and enter her butthole. Suzanne screamed in apparent pain as the dildo slid in, then started humping it for all she was worth. This was my chance, I knew, so I freed my wrists, reached under the dresser for my ditty bag, left over from my “salesman” days, and pulled a vial of pills out of it. I took out two pills, replaced the vial in the bag and put the bag back into place. Slowly, so as not to draw attention to myself, I stood up, with the stool still strapped to my chest, and carefully dropped one pill into each of their wine glasses. I put my hands back behind my back and waited for them to finish.
Finally their lust was sated. They lay there for about ten minutes before stirring again. I said “Great show, ladies. I really enjoyed it” and looked pointedly down at the front of my panties.
Charlotte laughed cheerily and Suzanne giggled, as Charlotte got up from the bed, walked over to the dresser and picked up the wine glasses. She set one down, reached over to me and grabbed my dick through my panties and said “I hope you enjoyed it, slave, that’s the last time you get to do that.”
I said “We’ll see. The night’s young yet.”
She had no idea how to take that, of course, and picked up the wine glass without saying anything. She handed both glasses to Suzanne and went over to the video camera.
“That’s funny, I could have sworn I turned it off. Doesn’t matter, just gives us some more great footage!” she said as she removed the tape. Walking over to me, she held the tape up in front of my face. “I’ve got you on tape happily and willingly putting on your sexy lingerie, bitch. You behave and no one will ever have to see this, except us. Give me a hard time and your career is ruined. You see, part of your job as my slave is going to be to keep writing. Not those stupid brochures, but sexy books like the one you’re almost finished with now. We’re going to have a lot of fun and make a ton of money off you, and we don’t want it ruined by making your perversions public, now, do we girl?”
I couldn’t help but snicker and said “My putting on lingerie isn’t the only thing that was recorded, you know. Don’t forget — you described your plan to kill your mother in pretty graphic detail, not to mention your raping and sodomizing me. You’d better think really hard about what you’re going to do with it.”
Then that nasty laugh again. I heard the front doorbell ring. “Ah, the courier, right on time. Can’t take any chances, dear, have to get this tape out of the house so you don’t get any stupid ideas about trying to get your hands on it. You are now mine, slave. Think about it while I’m gone.”
She moved me out of the way of the door, apparently forgetting that I was supposed to be strapped to the doorknob. I made a concerted effort to keep my wrists together to appear as though I was still cuffed.
“She told me all about your plan to kill her mother, with the drugs you brought for her. That makes you an accessory to murder, you know,” I said to Suzanne.
“Accessory, hell. I’ll be the real deal when I do in my husband the same way! Just think, all that money from your books and the insurance from my husband. You’ll be a slave living in the lap of luxury.”
I glanced at the video camera and noticed that the record light was still on. She hadn’t turned it off, just popped out the tape, either ignoring the record light or assuming it would automatically stop recording when she removed the tape. This was better than I could ever have hoped!
Charlotte came back in from giving the tape to the courier. “Guess you gave him quite a show” I said as she came back into the room.
“Like it did any good. Guy must have been 90 years old. Probably couldn’t have gotten it up if he’d seen Suzanne and me going at it earlier.”
She took her glass from Suzanne and downed the wine in one gulp. Suzanne had been sipping hers but finished it off now. They put the glasses down on the floor by the bed and started kissing each other again.
I had to work fast now. I pulled my hands around from behind my back and started to undo the belt holding the stool to my chest.
“There’s something you two need to know,” I said as I reached for the cuffs on my ankles. “That tape you gave the courier is blank. Well, OK, there’s more than one thing you need to know, but I’ve got to make this fast — you’re going to be asleep in less than two minutes. You see, the video camera can’t record. You remember, Charlotte, I’ve been working on the video for my ham radio. I’ve got the camera set so it turns on the recorder in my radio room, which records whatever the camera sends it. So, everything was recorded, but I have the tape, not you. That includes your admission of raping me, your plan to kill your mother, and even you, Suzanne, telling how you were going to kill your husband. I told you I wasn’t going to be able to fulfill your fantasy, Charlotte, but you paid no attention. Now, pay is exactly what you’re going to do. But enough for now, take your naps. You’ll wake up in a few hours. Nite, nite.” They were asleep by the time I finished.
I picked up the phone and called Detective John Frank, Fifth Precinct. He’d be here in half an hour. It was safe to give him the tape, as he is a fellow crossdresser and a member of our local CD club. We all have tapes of each other, just to keep everybody honest, you know. It’s not that we don’t trust each other, we just can’t afford to take the chance that any one of us would turn on a fellow member. I stripped and stepped into the shower while thinking that he’d get a charge from the first few minutes of the tape. Being gay, he wouldn’t care much for the action later on. He would, however, be very interested in the legal aspects of what was recorded.
They didn’t have a chance, of course. Charlotte’s employer dropped her like a hot potato as soon as the allegations came out. Here she was a specialist in the field of sexual harassment up on charges of rape and sodomy! At the trial, she was convicted of rape, two counts each of sodomy and conspiracy to commit murder and Suzanne was convicted of two counts of conspiracy to commit murder. None of their so-called friends came to the trial as character witnesses, and neither Doc nor I was going to stand up for them. They’re going to be in prison for a good long time, but think of all the new girlfriends they’re going to have! Right after the trial, I filed for divorce from Charlotte. The judge ruled for me immediately, and decreed that Charlotte was not to receive anything from our marriage that was not hers in her own right. So she got only her savings account, car, and some furniture. Real useful stuff in the big house.
In a clear cut case of poetic justice, her mother was named guardian of her estate until her release from prison.
All the notoriety from the trial brought a lot of attention to me, my publisher and my book. The week after the divorce decree, my publisher had orders for over 300,000 copies of my first book, which he bought from me for $750,000. He also gave me an advance of $2,000,000 for the sequel. I understand Doc filed for divorce from Suzanne, though with his lifestyle I don’t think it will matter much.
I sent Charlotte a Matchbox Ferrari 328GTS for her 30th birthday. Hope she likes it!
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Web Page Copyright © 2003 contact00@RealSissySchool.com; story courtesy ladycynthiak
Last Updated: January 1, 2003
Created: January 1, 2003
Author of Crossdressing Writer story: ladycynthiak; reprinted with permission.
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