My Neighbor’s Secret Plan

by James J Craft

  I was so exhausted to that I curled up on the sofa in my pajamas and fell asleep, and didn’t wake up until later that evening when Julie returned from work.

  “So?” she grinned as we sat at the kitchen table, eating pizza that she had picked up on the way home, “How’d it go?”

  I told Julie all about how boring a night it had been…and for lack of a better word – easy.

  “And you were all worried nothing,” she laughed, “All you had to do is walk around and act pretty.”

  “And it turns out that I am really good at it!” I piped up, then covered my mouth, not wanting to give the impression that I enjoyed it in any way.

  “I knew you would be Glen,” she smiled as she sipped from her can of soda, “You make a very sexy woman…after all…you really aren’t much of a man, now are you?”

  I sighed and looked down at myself. She had me there. Even wearing basic flannel pj’s, I was still looking very feminine.

  “I think it’s time we make a little change around here,” she said suddenly, “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

  I grinned, figuring that she was wanting to have some good old fashioned boy on girl sex…but when we arrived…it became apparent that she had something different in mind.

  “I think its time you had a place of your own…” she began, “You know…your own space…”

  I looked at her with a dumbfounded expression.

  “I’m not kicking you out…silly…” she reached forward and tapped my shoulder in a reassuring way. I smiled. “Well…out of the house anyway.”

  She turned and opened the closet, then turned back towards me, “But I think its time you got your own room…”her eyes narrowed, “Gwen”

  “What??” I gasped.

  “You heard me…your more girl than boy to me Glenny…and every girl needs her own space…so I want all of this…” she motioned at my small wardrobe of feminine clothes that was hanging in the closet…where my menswear had once been… “all of this…out of here, and into the spare room…

  and now.”

  “But…” I began to argue.

  “But nothing Gwen…” she scolded me, “You aren’t man enough to support me yet…so you aren’t man enough to be in the master bedroom…” she narrowed her eyes again,

  “Now get moving!” She smiled as I started moving my stuff to the other room.

  “Fine…” I muttered.

  “Pardon me?” she asked looking sternly at me.

  I stopped dead in my tracks, “What?” I said, looking at her with a confused expression, “I said it was very important.”

  “I heard you,” she scowled, “Yes Miss….is the correct response from the maid of the house.”

  I was flabbergasted. I could feel my face turning red with anger and resentment; surely she didn’t actually expect me to say that.

  Suddenly Julie burst into a fit of laughter, “Oh my good Gwen, you’re so serious all the

  time….loosen up!”

  I sighed and turned away. I could hear her continue to chuckle at me as I carried another load of stuff from ‘our’ room into ‘her’ room.

  How could I loosen up when you expect me to sleep in a different bed?

  She would continue to stand in the doorway leering at me as I slowly carried my belongings past her. I felt so completely humiliated and for the first time felt resentful of my wife.

  Why was she doing this to me?? I wondered.

  My face was burning I completed my chores under her watchful eye. Partially because I was dressed in girl’s jeans and girly top, wearing makeup and earrings and partially because where ever I went that evening, my wife would follow…stop and stare at me with an amused…even aroused…

  expression on her face. It was like it excited her to see me vacuuming out the section of the master bedroom closet where my manly clothes used to be.

  When I had finished, Julie called me over and instructed me to remove her clothes, which I happily did…then she ordered me to touch and kiss her in ways and places I had never dreamed of before.

  We made love for hours in a heightened stake of arousal…and any doubts I had about being her maid were quickly eased.

  The next day I arrived at work in my snug jeans, cork soled wedge sandals and tank-top. It was supposed to be casual Friday. That is, until the marketing director showed up. He smiled and offered his arm to me as he escorted me to the office that had been turned into a dressing room.

  “What’s today?” I asked.

  “Oh…” he smiled, “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

  I was first fitted with a new, smaller fitting corset that reduced my waist down to twenty-four inches, then a special thong panty that doubled as a gaff.

  When my session was done, a familiar looking girl in a classic outfit looked back at me from the mirror. Her name was Gwen, and she was pretty hot looking…except for her lack of cleavage.

  The top of the corset had been stuffed with my usual breast forms, but I knew that I could do so much more. I had seen how Chris looked with a set of ‘her’ own boobs, and was actually looking forward to my appointment next week.

  I quietly hoped that by getting a pair of breasts, maybe Julie would allow me to move out of the guest room and back into our bedroom.

  To Be Continued...

  Part Four

  Illustrations by Avaro

  Tuesday couldn’t’ come fast enough, and soon I was back at Doctor Conrad’s for my appointment.

  I felt very anxious as I entered the clinic. I couldn’t believe that I was actually excited about getting breasts. But they were only temporary, until I could prove to Julie that I was able to provide for her like I used to.

  “Welcome back Gwen,” Sherry, the nurse at the reception desk smiled warmly, “We’ve been

  expecting you. The Doctor is ready…if you’d just follow me, we’ll get started.”

  I smiled back and waited for her to lead me into a small change room where I disrobed and donned the customary hospital gown. A stretcher was wheeled in, and two attractive orderlies helped me onto it. Soon I was being wheeled into the surgery suite, where I was given an IV, followed by an injection. The nurse told me to count backwards from ten.

  “Ten, nine, eight,” I began, pausing for a moment to yawn.

  That moment turned out to be several hours, as I awoke later…with the words seven, six, five in my head…and an unfamiliar weight on my chest.

  I looked down and gasped at the bandaged mounds that were now a part of me.

  I had breasts.

  -*-

  I was allowed one week off ‘modeling’ in order to recover, which I spent working at my regular job as ‘support personnel’ as the initial swelling in my chest gradually decreased to the modest B-cup I had been promised.

  Just like Christine had. Just like I swore I’d never get.

  In order to keep Christine and I ‘engaged’ while I recovered, the Marketing department brought in piles of outfits for us to wear at the office, and most of them were pretty ‘risque’ for an office setting. But the Marketing Manager insisted that we wear them.

  Chris didn’t seem to notice, I but swore I could feel the managers’ eyes on us every time we walked past him.

  Him and nearly every other guy in the office.

  The outfits were almost consistently short miniskirts with smooth hosiery and very high platform heels, which…don’t get me wrong, we looked totally hot in…it was just weird to have the eyes of every guy in the office on you…especially the boss.

  “Oh don’t be such a sissy!” Julie dismissed me when I brought my concerns to her later that week.

  Even though things felt very different at work, at home I was still Julie’s domestic, and nothing more.

  We hadn’t been intimate in weeks. In fact, most nights she and Denise were out doing one thing or another, leaving the ‘boys’ to entertain ourselves.

  To break the monotony, I suggested that Julie had invite Denise and Chris over for
dinner on Friday night, which I of course would have to prepare.

  She agreed, but warned me that the house better be in pristine condition…or else.

  The ‘or else’ came in the form of the back end of her largest hairbrush across my pantied

  backside…a punishment she had started to administer just before I acquired my busom. It had been for a minor thing – not cleaning up the sink when I tidied the bathroom, but she made sure I wouldn’t forget that ever again.

  And I didn’t.

  Julie returned from work later that day. She had spent the night in the City on business and looked exhausted when she entered the house.

  “Good evening Miss Julie,” I chirped…she had instructed me to wait by the door in my maid’s outfit at the predetermined time, to greet her and take her coat. Failure to do so would lead to a good ‘thwacking’ of my rear.

  I took my wife’s coat and hung it in the closet as she gave the house a quick inspection, “Looks good Gwen,” she smiled, “You’ve been a busy girl.”

  I smiled, “Thank you Miss Julie.” The words burned as I turned red with humiliation at my situation. My wife was slowly turning me into her domestic servant and the more it happened, the more I hated it.

  The doorbell chimed, breaking my train of thought.

  Julie’s eyes lit up, “Who could that be??” she gushed fakely.

  I looked at her with a confused expression.

  “Run along and get the door dear!” she commanded, “Don’t just stand there looking like a bimbo!”

  I grimaced at her. I hated the way she treated me lately. I felt like I was the hired help…not her equal partner.

  I opened the door and gasped at who was standing before me on the other side. I had half-expected to see Denise or Chris…even though it was hours too early….but instead saw the stylist that helped me to prepare for my photo shoots at work.

  “Hi Gwen!” she chirped, “Surprise!”

  I opened the door for her…and her crates and bags of …stuff…and followed her into the living room. Julie was grinning from ear to ear.

  “I thought I’d get you all gussied up for your night out…and who better to do that than Nancy here…” she motioned at the stylish…who up until that point…I had never bothered to ask for a name from.

  Nancy smiled and began to unpack her things…makeup…haircare…and clothing…all over the

  living room.

  “Shall we get started?” she asked.

  -*-

  Over an hour later I emerged from the Nancy’s make-shift salon wearing a very short pleated pink minidress, with a layers of white chiffon petticoats underneath. It looked like fetishistic ballet outfit if not for the crisp white pair of stockings and pink high-heeled platform heels pumps. Nancy had caked on my makeup, with a near-white base, bold cheeks, glossy lump pink lips and dark painted eyes with a mass of curly black lashes (at Julie’s request).

  I slipped in my set of one-inch silver hoop earrings and gazed at my sexy feminine reflection in the mirror. Would Julie find me sexy like this? I wondered. Is this what she wants her man to look like?

  I shrugged it off and made my way to the living room, just in time for the doorbell to ring again.

  Julie had already let our neighbors in when I arrived. Denise was wearing a very casual outfit –

  jeans and knit top, as was Julie. Chris…on the other hand…was far from causal.

  “Heyyyyy!” he giggled as he saw me for the first time.

  Chris’s outfit as wasn’t as girly as mine was, but his strapless body-hugging mini-dress was super short and super sexy…especially with his towering ankle-strapped black platforms.

  “I got a new bra,” Chris proclaimed proudly, showing them off to me and to Julie.

  “I figured, she didn’t have to wear that awful corset tonight, her body is a perfect hourglass now, even without it. So we did some bra shopping together, right dear?” Denise giggled.

  “Oh absolutely!” Chris agreed, “I can’t wait until your rack is big like mine Gwenny.” he smiled and patted my ass, “Then we’ll do some bra shopping together too!”

  I gasped. W hat the hell had gotten into him??

  “So you’re probably wondering why you’re both dressed up and we’re not, huh?” Julie said

  suddenly.

  “Well we thought we’d put you two on a date…but not with a us …” Denise chimed in, smiling at Julie, “but with each other. ” I looked at my wife with a shocked expression

  “So we’ve ordered a limo for you two to have a fun girls night out!” She smiled, pointing out the window to the massive stretched limousine that was parked on the street.

  Chris and I both turned towards our wives with the same surprised look. They both expected that we were going to go out…in public…like this…with each other?

  “Well?” Julie asked…after a few uncomfortable seconds had passed.

  “Well…” I repeated her words, still too shocked to speak.

  “Shouldn’t you two be going?” Denise interjected.

  I tried to not look so completely dumfounded by what our wives had done to use and forced an enthusiastic smile before looking at Chris, who also forced an enthusiastic smile back at me.

  “You two girls have fun!” Denise giggled as we turned towards the door, “Don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do…”

  Julie giggled after her, “And be sure to use protection!”

  The two burst into laughter as we left the house, our faces burning with humiliation as we walked towards the limousine on the road.

  “This thing is huge” Chris chuckled as we approached the waiting stretch. The driver had opened the rear door for us and extended a hand to help us inside, “All ready ladies?”

  I turned and looked behind me. My instincts were still programmed to think of myself as a guy.

  “I think he’s talking to us,” Chris whispered.

  The chauffeur chuckled as we entered.

  “Sorry,” I sighed, “I’m still not used to all this…its really…weird, you know.”

  He nodded, as if he knew exactly what I meant.

  The Limousine began to move forward, jarring us for a moment. Chris sighed and looked around the otherwise empty cabin of the long car, “You know…I’m starting to think of myself as

  Chrissy…or Christine…whatever you want to call me more and more. I’m actually starting to think of myself… at least sometimes…as a her”

  I was a little shocked, and my face showed it. I had always thought that Chris and I were on the same page when it came to all this. I had always thought that we were allowing our wives to play this game, but we were remaining men at our cores. To hear him say that I was wrong…that he was starting to think of himself as a ‘she’ was disturbing to me, beyond belief.

  “Don’t look so shocked Gwen” he scoffed, “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of yourself as a girl…”

  I regained my composure, “No…I haven’t…and my name is Glen Chris… G-l-e-n…”

  He rolled his painted eyes.

  “This is only temporary,” I continued pointing at myself, “Once I get a job back in the real world, Julie isn’t going to make me…”

  “Make you do what Gwen?” Chris interrupted, “Make you act like a girl? Think again…our wives have got it in for us dear. There’s no turning back. You obviously don’t know my wife very well…”

  “I don’t need to know your wife Chris….” I retorted, “I only need to know mine…and I know that…”

  He interrupted me again, “You used to know her Gwen, but Denise is working on her too…”

  He suddenly gasped and covered his painted mouth with his pretty polished finger nails, as if he suddenly realized that he had said too much.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “This night…this ‘Girls Night’,” he made the hand sign for quotations, “It isn’t just about us Gwen…she’s making a move on Julie tonight while we’re out partying…�
�

  “Wait a sec…a move??” I blurted, “What the heck are you talking about? Like a sexual move? Like a lesbian move? Are you crazy??”

  Chris shrugged, “Haven’t you noticed that they’ve been spending a lot of time together lately?”

  I shrugged, “I dunno…I guess” I thought back to nights that Julie had left me alone to clean the house while she went out for coffee with our neighbor. I knew that Julie had told me stories of curious sexual escapades in college…before she met me…but surely what Chris was saying

  couldn’t be true.

  Julie wouldn’t do that…would she?

  “Aren’t you two still married…aren’t you still having sex with each other?” I tried to change the subject.

  I could see Chris blush under his makeup, “I don’t know if I’d call it sex, per-say. We fool around a lot and do things with each other. She’s really become aggressive in our sex life…she likes to be in control more now.” He looked away, gazing out the limo windows.

  I looked down. I knew that Julie and I hadn’t had sex in weeks…maybe longer. I wondered if Chris was having trouble…getting it up. I knew that I could barely get it up anymore…and he had been on hormones for weeks longer that me…so naturally it would only make sense.

  “So you think that your wife is going to make a move on my wife tonight…while you and I go out to a club, dressed like sluts…to flirt with men…” I summarized the conversation as we rounded the corner to the street where the club was located.

  He sighed and nodded…forcing a smile.

  “Fuck…” I sighed in an exasperated tone, “I need a drink!”

  Chris smiled and giggled as we pulled up to the curb, “Well…I’m sure there are plenty of strange men who’d love to buy us rounds of drinks sweetie.”

  I giggled back. A few minutes ago, the idea would have seemed to be crazy to me…but now…it was entirely possible.

  -*-

  The club, called Alter-native, was goth bar Sunday to Wednesday, a gay bar Thursday, a lesbian bar Friday…and tonight – Saturday, was for T-girls and their admirers.

  Lucky us.

  Chris paused, his hand on the Limo’s door latch, looking over at me with a tentative expression. He saw a similar look on my face, and my hand also on the door handle. We had been dressed as girls in front of our wives, and in front of a few individuals at work, but we had never been in a situation like this…in public…surrounded by other people…men in specific.