Julie gasped, “Oh-my-god…” she exclaimed.
Denise’s smile grew wider as she modeled her husband for use, “You’ve all met Chrissy, right?”
Chris stood still as if he was hoping to become in visible. He was wearing a pair of snug fitting girl’s jeans with a airy purple-pink spaghetti strap top that showed a lot of skin.
A lot of very soft-looking, smooth skin. It looked like his chest and arms had been shaved smooth as well as his feet and presumably his legs and nether-regions.
The clunking noise we had heard in the hall was obviously caused by his new wedge heeled
sandals…which were anything but manly.
“Chris?” I gasped in disbelief. I was astounded that he had let his wife do that to him.
“It’s Chrissy now Glen…” Denise corrected me.
Chris’ face turned bright red as he sat quietly, “You don’t have to be such a….” he started to mutter back, only to shockingly realize that he was speaking out loud.
“Oh?” Denise sneered, “I don’t? Then why haven’t you found a job yet then? I thought that you would have responded to wearing panties and being shaven like a girl – but you didn’t. Then I thought that if you were wearing a corset every day that it would serve as a constant reminder of how un-manly you’ve become…and give you the impetus to do something about it…but clearly…
you are happy to be a little sissy-maid Chris, so I can see how you might think that I am a bitch for wanting you to be a real man!”
She threw down her napkin and stormed out of the room. Chris’ face turned from red to a ghastly white. I thought I could see tears welling up in his eyes. He quietly excused himself from the table.
I looked at Julie, who was going off to console Denise, and decided it was my job to do the same for Chris. I found him outside, nursing a drink as he stared off into space, looking mortified. I tried to think of something supportive to say to him to change the mood, “You’re wearing a corset?”
Oops! I thought, that wasn’t the kind of support I wanted to get.
“Not right now…” he snapped back at me, looking down at his whispy girly top.
“Well, I…er,” I fumbled the question not expecting him to respond like that, “I guess there’s nothing wrong with that…it’s just corset…”
I saw his eyes darting to something behind me and turned to see both of our wives standing there.
The expression on my wife’s face worried me.
“Well I’m glad to hear that Glen,” Julie smiled.
“I think that both of our sissies could use a constant reminder of just how badly they’ve failed their wives…don’t you think Jules?” Denise growled.
I was trying to come up with a good response, but Julie was one step ahead of me.
“Absolutely Denise,” she concurred, “I can’t think of a better way for my little Glenny to get motivated to find a job and be the man he used to be.”
-*-
But simply degrading me the same as Chris was not enough for Julie. Within a few days, she had taken me for a humiliating trip to a local salon to have my body completely waxed (the single most painful procedure I had ever experienced). Then an equally mortifying journey to small boutique took place where I was fitted an excessively uncomfortable satin corset.
After only a few hours in the tortuous device, I was motivated enough to rethink my job-hunting, and began to apply for work at places that I once would have scoffed at. Places that were far below my desired pay scale, and for which I was severely overqualified.
But the results remained the same. ‘We’re sorry Glen, we’re not looking for someone with your skillset’, or ‘We’ll put your resume on file for while Glen’.
Back at home, Julie would lace up my tortuous corset every morning and let me out every night…
until she found out that Denise had purchased a second cincher for Chris to wear while he slept, which meant that I was soon to be robbed of any relief from the torment of being corsetted.
Instead, I would spend the day cleaning. Everything in the house from top to bottom…and when I got to the end of the list…I would start over again. Chris’ day was much of the same. Sometimes we would work together, cleaning at my house in the morning, and his house in the afternoon, then we’d cook and serve our wives their dinner, do the dishes and hit the computer to find a job.
But it would never come.
-*-
“What are these for??” I asked Julie one day after she came home from work. She had plopped a container of pills down in front of me and told me to take two of them.
“What are they for?” I rephrased my question.
“These…are for a bad little girl who doesn’t want to get a job in the real world.”
“What??” I sputtered, “Who said I didn’t want to get a job?? You think I like this??” I motioned to my corseted waist.
“I real man would try harder Glen. You haven’t responded to any of my ‘suggestions’ so far. So this…my silly sissy…is my way of upping the ante,” she unscrewed the lid and took two caplets from inside of it into her hand, “Open up!”
I opened my mouth and felt her deposit a pill onto my tongue, then swallowed it down with a mouth full of cold coffee.
“And the other one too,” she smiled.
I repeated the procedure, then asked my question for the third consecutive time, “What…are these?
Why am I taking them?”
“They’re blockers dear.” She smiled as she continued to unpack the other groceries she had purchased on the way home.
“Blockers?” I stupidly repeated, “What kind of blockers? What they block?”
“They block your manliness dear,” she grinned evilly, “and until you get a job, they will continue to block your manliness, until you are no longer manly anymore.”
“Wh…no…longer a man?” I stammered, “What the hell are you talking about??”
“You are to take two pills twice a day until you get a job…or until you’ve completely turned into the sissy that you are already well on your way to becoming. Chris has been on them for two weeks already. Denise told me where to get them, and how many for you to take…of course I increased the dose.”
My jaw hung stupidly open, “No way Julie, this thing has gone too far already. I’m not taking any of your voodoo pansy pills…it ain’t happening.”
“Oh?” she raised her eyebrow in angry kind of way, “You really want to play that game Glen?
How would you like to have pictures of you in your corset and panties sent to all of your family…
and all of your friends.”
She had me there.
And as it would turn out Denise had Chris in the exact same place.
To Be Continued
Part Two
Illustrations by Avaro
Chris and I sat for coffee and chatted in between cleaning houses one morning a few days later. I had been throwing up for half the week, which is something that Chris said he went through for a full seven days when he started on the ‘pills’. For me, it would turn out to be closer to twelve.
He told me all about how Denise had threatened to humiliate him, by sending his picture to the local newspaper, “You’ll never set foot outside again when I’m done with you.” She apparently said.
It was hard not to look at her differently that night, when we were having dinner together…knowing how cruel she was being to poor Chris. She made it even harder when she started to show off her newest form of humiliation. Her husband, once as manly a man as I had ever seen, had come over for dinner dressed in tight girly jeans and cork soled flip-flops. A tight fitting girl’s blouse adorned his upper body…and flattered him I had to say…and his hair had been styled in a short wavy feminine style. I kept looking at his eyes, as they looked somehow ‘different’ - I was pretty sure that he was wearing mascara and maybe some eyeliner.
We sat down to a meal of Chinese take out, where the girls talked about work an
d how pathetic we were, and the two of us exchanged embarrassed glances. It was almost a look of pity that Chris was giving me, because he knew that Julie would have to out-do Denise as soon as they left.
“Don’t you just love these new jeans I got Chrissy?” Denise chimed, “His bum is filling out so nicely…and the sandals have just enough of a heel in them to give him a sexy stride. I’m pretty sure I saw our neighbor across the street checking him out on the way here.”
Chris blushed deeply.
“I think I need to get a pair for Glen, his ass is looking pretty sweet too,” Julie smiled then turned to me, “Isn’t that right honey?”
It was my turn to blush deeply. There was no way I was going to say ‘yes’ to her request, but I knew that she had already made up her mind on the matter.
So, the very next day Julie arrived home from work unexpectedly early, so she could take me out for lunch…and shopping spree. We began at the salon, where she instructed the beautician to style my hair into something fun, funky…and girlie.
The results would be quite drastic as my once fluffy spikey hair was trimmed and styled into a straight-cut, chin-length feminine look. I couldn’t believe the transformation. How had they made my hair longer?
I gazed into the mirror with a shocked expression, “Oh god,” I sighed.
“What was that?” Julie glared at me over my shoulder.
“Oh good” I muttered sarcastically, “I said oh good. It looks good…I’m so happy”
“Perfect!” Julie proclaimed, “Now…let’s go shopping!”
“Oooo,” The stylist cooed, “Lucky girl! I wish someone would take me shopping.”
I just glared at her, with a ‘shut-up’ expression, than turned to my wife with a panicked expression,
“I cant go out like this…”
Julie turned her head to me, “Oh? And why not?” she said.
“Julie…I …I look like a …” I tried to sputter a response.
She glared at me and I lost my nerve, opting instead to just sigh and say, “Oh nevermind”
I knew that fighting with her would be futile.
Moments later left the salon and headed to the same boutique where I had been fitted with my first corset. Julie was impressed by what she saw that Denise had put Chris into, and now was
determined that I would wear jeans that were just as girly. But her competitive streak wouldn’t allow her to just stop there.
She found a girly beige sleeveless top with a high neck and a pair of strappy sandals with a fairly high wedge heel for me to wear as well.
I tried to complain to her that it wasn’t fair to make me dress this way…but she didn’t seem to care.
“When you get a job and be a man… then you can start to dress like one again,” she glared at me as she spoke in her low authoritative voice.
What she was doing to me simply wasn’t fair…and it made my stomach turn. But I had little choice in the matter.
Upon our return home that day, Julie decided to march me right over to the neighbors for an impromptu visit. She had first ‘informed’ me that were going next door so she could show me off while we were in the car on our way home. I had told here that there wasn’t any f-ing way I was going with her. But Julie could be quite persuasive.
“You never told me you were going to go this far Jules,” I complained, “I look like a total sissy!”
“Well that’s because you are a sissy Glen!” she retorted, “Any man that cannot provide for the woman he loves is nothing more than a glorified pansy – and you know it. So we’re going next door and that’s all that there is to it.”
I burned with anger towards her for doing this to me, but knew there was little that I could do to stop it. Nearly everything we owned was in her name. I could try and leave her, try to fight her in court, but what were my chances of actually winning?
“Besides,” she continued in a much calmer voice, “Once you prove your manhood is back by getting a job…all of this will be over – just as long as Chris doesn’t beat you to it.”
“What the heck is that supposed to mean??”
But there would be no reply from Julie, as we were already at Denise and Chris’ front door.
Once inside Julie introduced the new-and-improved me to our neighbors. Denise nodded her
approval while Julie showed off the recent ‘upgrades’ she had made to me. Even Chris seemed to be impressed. I looked him over in his jeans and sandals, I was actually feeling pretty proud of myself. He looked good…but I knew that I looked better, even if it was only temporary.
Chris got up to grab the paper from the kitchen counter and even though we were both guys, I just couldn’t help but steal a glance at his butt while he moved. It was round and perky and firm…just like a chick’s.
A hot chick’s.
And what’s worse is that I knew that mine wasn’t far behind.
“Hey look at this,” he spoke quietly with an excited grin, “There’s a job fair tomorrow for a clothing company that just moved offices and warehouses here. Hiring for all positions, it says.”
He paused for a second, his eyes lighting up, “Hey! I drove a forklift in college one summer…I bet I could easily get a job there!”
“What?” I exclaimed reaching to grab the paper, “Let me see that…”
“Hey,” he whispered, as if not trying to draw the attention of our wives who were in the other room laughing and carrying on, “wait your turn.”
He read through the ad a second time before handing it to me, “We are so applying for this,” he bubbled in an excited valley-girl tone, “the girls didn’t say where we had to work, just that we had to have a job, right?”
I finished scanning the ad, then turned to him with a smile, “Absolutely! We’ll be back to our old selves in no-time!”
-*-
“Hun?” I whined later that night, “Is my butt getting big?”
Julie laughed, “I don’t know dear…why do you ask?”
I had been rummaging through my old dress clothes to find something that fit – but nothing did.
She came into the spare room where I was changing and burst into a giggle, “Oh my goodness Glenyth,” she mired, I was too hung up on my ill-fitting clothes to pay attention to the strange mutation she had put my name through, “What are you trying to do?”
I had put on the last suit that I thought might fit…the shirt and jacket hung too loosely on my thin corseted frame, and the pants were far too big for my waist, yet failed to go over my butt.
“I’ve got a job interview tomorrow, and I can’t find anything that fits,” I whined again.
“Well that’s because your body has gotten so used to wearing girly clothes that those ugly boyish outfits just won’t work anymore,” she said in an authoritative tone.
“Well that’s just great Julie!” I snapped, “I’ve been playing this silly game of yours for so long that when I finally get the opportunity to show you that I can be the kind of real, employed man that you want me to be…”
“Now hold on just a second young lady,” she scolded, “You will not take that tone of voice with me. If you had been more proactive in your job hunting, we’d never have gotten to this point. And you have the nerve to blame me for…”
“Oh, so it’d my fault that the economy around the world fell apart and no one is hiring guys like me,” I interjected, “is that what you’re saying?”
Julie’s face turned angry red and she stormed out of the room without a word.
“Where are you going? What are you doing??” I called after her. Whenever Julie got very angry and very quiet, I knew it wasn’t good. I followed her into the kitchen where she was taking the memory card out of her camera and inserting it into her laptop.
“What are you doing Julie?” I repeated my inquiry.
“I told you that if you crossed me that I would show everyone what a sissy you’ve become…” I watched her as she started to upload the contents of the memory card onto the c
omputer’s hard drive, “but you didn’t think I would do it…did you?”
“Wait!” I exclaimed, “You’re reading me all wrong…I’ll be a good….er… girl and I’ll listen to you better dear...I’m sorry.”
She kept downloading the pictures.
“Come one Jules,” I pleaded…I could feel my face burning and my pulse quickening…if she
followed through on her threat, I’d be ruined, “I’ll listen. I promise. It’ll never happen again…just don’t send those pictures out….pleassse.”
“Say it again…softer” she quipped.
“Softer?”
“Yes, like a girl would” she smiled.
She was taunting me – and loving it.
“Pull-eeeea-sssse,” I whined in my girliest voice.
“Fine,” Julie smiled and closed her laptop, “Let’s go pick you out an outfit for your interview tomorrow.”
With that she kissed me on the cheek and left me standing in the kitchen.
-*-
The job fair was the very next day, and Chris and I carpooled in his truck. Both of our wives had had similar ideas when helping us to find appropriate outfits to wear, and loaned us dressy lady’s pantsuits.
Denise’s suit had slim tapered pants, with brown ankle boots, and was quite effeminate, on Chris, especially since his hair had been growing out.
But…it was nothing as compared to what Julie had dressed me in.
I was adorned in a pantsuit with hip-hugging flared pants. I had insisted on wearing my own black dress shoes, but the pant legs were so stupidly long, that they dragged on the ground.
“Those pants need to be worn with heels Glen,” Julie smiled, “They’re designed that way.”
“There is absolutely no way that I am going to wear heels ,” I argued.
“Well then,” she crossed her arms in a stern expression, “Then I guess there’s absolutely no way that you’re going to your interview, now is there?”
“We…’compromised’…” I made the quotation symbols with my fingers as I pointed at the of black
‘mary-janes’ with a sturdy heel and slight platform sole.
They were unmistakably feminine, as opposed to his footwear, which could possibly pass for a men’s shoe. Not that it mattered. Both Denise and Julie had insisted that they help us do up our hair, and that we wear at least a minimal amount of makeup. When we questioned them as to why…they simply replied, “Because we said so.”
My Neighbor’s Secret Plan Page 2
