Dear Christina

Dear Christina, this is for you!

I hope this is not too fragmentary but I must describe the dream I experienced last night.

Married for fifteen years, my wife Karla and I enjoyed a happy existence together but faced a dilemma when my aunt experienced some health and financial challenges and it became apparent the only answer was for her to move in with us. As any woman might, my wife struggled with the decision to support this but as I said, It was the only answer. We discussed setting some ground rules but neither of us are the detailed planning type so as always we decided to just wing it.

To my delight, my aunt and my wife became very good friends. This was surprising as they seemed so different, my wife whimsical and will-of-the-wisp and my aunt a retired school teacher of fierce and ready disposition who spoke her mind often and thoroughly.

I knew this would be chopped up but here we go.

Early in our marriage my wife discovered my secret hobby of wearing women’s clothing. Before the revelation I broached the subject with her and she seemed mildly curious but basically disinterested. I saw a few days later she’d found a psychology tome at the library to read up on me and my kind. Whatever she found satisfied her and we simply didn’t speak of it again.

I kept some things in our guest bedroom closet and in the dresser and vanity there. These were never disturbed or mentioned by my wife. I indulged my desires in secret as regards my marriage but my wife travelled with her work and thoughtfully kept me fully apprised of her schedule.

When she’d be away I’d come home from work, shower and get dressed happily as ‘Allison’, my female self. My wife and I divided household chores and our rule was if one of us saw something that needed doing we simply did it. This kept the workload even and both of us quite happy. Dressed as Allie, I surprised myself with how I enjoyed distaff duties when dressed in a housedress with the appropriate lingerie underneath. Vacuuming in heels was a treat for me!

After an evening of cleaning and laundry and tidying I’d slip into something slinky and have one of my imaginary lovers visit for erotic pursuits. I slept so soundly after a lovely fantasy, dressed in a pretty nightgown, the soft feminine smell of my perfume following me into realms of contentment and satisfaction.

In the morning I would change sheets before leaving for work. My wife would know what the smell was but I didn’t want to worry her even a little bit that I had a parade of lovers in while she was gone. Besides, I’d wear a lovely robe over my gown and enjoy a few minutes more of a feminine existence, flirting with myself in the mirrors of our bedroom.

Sex as Allison was a solitary thing since the one suggestion I made to my wife long ago fell soundlessly away. I developed a rich fantasy life with my toys and erotic scenarios tucked away in my imagination. That these pursuits involved acquaintances of both sexes troubled me not in the least.

My good fortune in life was my wife as our sexual lives were rich and varied and because we both enjoyed her dominant streak in the bedroom. If I couldn’t wear a pretty baby doll nightie while we made love, at least she took a firm hand and the leadership role often enough to satisfy that side of my psyche. If she felt especially playful she’d squirt a bit of perfume over me before we hopped into bed. Our play regularly swung from the very conventional to light bondage and mock punishment for imagined slights and insults with her in the dominant role.

The coming of Aunt Emmaline (Auntie Em) brought some practical changes. I lost my playroom as that one was the largest and had a private entrance to the guest bath. I settled for a number of storage containers in our heated garage and workshop area. Of course she would not travel with my wife on her business trips so I was never alone yet Aunt E. respect my privacy and I could play in the Master’s Suite at bedtime. Aunt E. did have a girl’s club she enjoyed so Wednesday nights if the wife was travelling I had several hours to do housework en femme.

Life settled slowly into a new routine until –

One evening after work my wife met me at the door with a strange look on her face. Wordlessly she ushered me into the living room that we never used to find Aunt Em sitting primly in the largest chair.

“Sit,” said Aunt Em and pointed in a commanding fashion at the loveseat. My wife took the sofa and I could tell from her expression the strange look was one of amusement. I raised my eyebrows to Karla and she quietly giggled into her hand.

“I found your treasure trove of women’s clothing in the garage,” she said, “While looking for a drill and a screwdriver. You simply must buy some tools for me to use.”

I stared at her, then at Karla, then back at Aunt Em.

“Your wife informs me of your interest in dressing as a woman. Are you a homosexual?”

“No, Aunt Em. I’m only interested in my wife and have never strayed. I do enjoy dressing -”

She waved at me to stop. “Don’t bother. I’ve had the conversation already with Karla, poor dear. She seems happy enough with your, errr, hobby. Now I know why you disappear for hours into your bedroom. I thought you simply wanted to avoid me. Well, darling, that’s now over. I won’t, I can’t live in a house with secrets. There will be changes or I’ll find a nice apartment in Florida.”

This was a hugely impractical option that none of us wanted – we’d have to pay and no one was there to look after Aunt Em but she maintained the fictional option as a talking point. We’d decided some time ago not to argue with this.

“What changes?” I asked.

“If you must dress as a woman I want you to do so openly, at least as regards me and your wife. Karla and I have decided that every evening when you come home you must,” she paused dramatically, “Transform yourself. ‘Allison’ I believe.”

How she knew this was a mystery. I must have been talking in my sleep and my wife heard. I looked at her and she simply nodded. Karla does read my mind, you know. She also wordlessly communicated her agreement with Aunt Em!

“As Allison you will take over all the womanly duties of the household, treating your wife and I as your… superiors.” This was a bit old fashioned but in keeping with Aunt Em’s background and age. We both knew what she meant.

Her glare was fierce but Aunt Em had a mischievous side as well. Her eyes glinted as if in response to a jest.

“In exchange I will assume responsibility for your tutelage as a woman. Karla will continue as Head of Household but your grooming and dress and deportment will be directed by me. I’ll have you a proper woman in no time.”

There was an unspoken ‘or else’ in her tone and fierce glare. She’d taught school for years in the era of corporal punishment as an approved corrective force. The family believed the assistant principals sent miscreants to her!

No one looked to me for agreement or response. I hung my head in submission and noticed Karla seemed a bit sympathetic to my plight but said nothing.

“Now, come with me and let’s go through your clothing. Then you will bathe and change and begin your service.”

Aunt Em paused, then looked at me and continued. “Allison.” There was no more verbal directive but it was obvious I was to comply. I heard Karla make a strangled noise that may have been a giggle but when I turned to her she wasn’t looking at me.

Aunt Em rose and walked to the stairs without a glance to see if I was following.

I quickly looked at Karla who smirked saucily at me before I jumped up to follow my new Mistress.

“Don’t walk so heavily. Even dressed as a man you must tread lightly.”

And so it began.

________________________________________________________________

Aunt Em is dressed in a Belle Epoch gown in a rich patterned fabric of dark gray, attractive but fierce. For these sessions she insists on period costume to emphasize the severity of her expectations in behavior. I address her as ‘Mistress Emmeline’ as she observes my actions, nodding her head if she approves and swaying gently in rhythm to my movements.

I’m licking my wife’s cunt lips carefully avoiding the center slit so as to measure the stimulation for maximum pleasure,having already laved her thighs with my tongue and brought her to a pitch of excitement while Aunt Em. watched.

I’m dressed in a period babydoll nightie which luxurious lace in a transparent pink fabric displays my new hormone-induced breasts which are still modest but yet prominent with lavish nipples and areolae. My hair is long and silky now, brushed a hundred strokes by my aunt until it shines in the candlelight of our bedroom and pinned in several places with lovely pink bows. The style is more one of a professional courtesan dedicated to pleasure than that of a loving wife wishing to please her spouse.

Aunt Em and Karla choose my outfits depending on what role I am to play in that encounter.

My body is smooth and softened by moisturizer and half-a-dozen magic lotions required by my aunt. I am constantly surprised how the hormones and daily care make my face kinder and more feminine. The electrolysis is ongoing but a morning shave of my cheeks is a thing of the past.

I notice my lovely nails that I polished this very morning to Aunt Em’s satisfaction, after which I did hers and then Karla’s. The ladies grooming completed, I then prepared a light morning snack for them to enjoy on the patio while I vacuumed in my maid’s outfit – very nineteenth century and form-fitting to emphasize my assets to the household.

Karla shifts her hips to demand that I access her pretty bottom so I dutifully begin kissing and caressing lower than her sex, caressing her other opening carefully with soft fingertips. She sighs, then pants with excitement and Aunt Em softly whispers, ‘Good, good.’

The cage around my sex pinches for a moment but I’ve learned to hide my discomfort as it would only engender punishment. It’s been months since I’ve been permitted to touch my clitoris. Aunt Em. wears the key around her neck. She doesn’t want Karla tempted, either.

Karla’s responsibility is to teach me the duties of womanhood with a variety of strap-on dildos selected for each encounter by my aunt. She oversees that aspect of our love life as well and I’ve come to appreciate her insight. No one was more delighted than Aunt Em the first time Karla brought me to orgasm with a deep thrust while wearing her favorite toy (now mine as well).

I jut my bottom provocatively as I’ve been taught and Aunt Em snorts in approval. I arch my back in a posture of feminine lust to the delight of the ladies and return to pleasing Mistress Karla with my mouth and fingers.

My rhythm with my wife is constant and I can tell she’s getting close. After her orgasm she’ll snuggle with me and cuddle me lovingly and tell me how much she enjoys our new life. I’ll fall asleep thinking of my duties for tomorrow and how I can please my two mistresses even more. That I might not culminate my own sexual tension is taught me as a normal part of a woman’s experience. I am to savor any frustration that might result and channel it toward greater expression of my true nature as a woman.

We giggle softly together as we hear the soft buzz of Aunt Em’s vibrator, then Karla’s hand rests on the harsh plastic of the nemesis between my legs but she falls asleep right after a single loving caress. I kiss her on the lips softly and close my eyes to the sound of her soft breathing.