Crystal's StorySite storysite.org

Housewife            by: Kimberly Kennedy

 

I was working on my master’s thesis in psychology. I decided to take the summer off and enjoy my self. I was surfing the Internet one evening and came across a web sight for alternative personal ads. I have dabbled with cross-dressing in my past but I was completely heterosexual. Being a psychology major I was always fascinated with human behavior and social psychology. My own personal curiosity made me wonder if gender roles were forced on us by society and we just adapted to them. If that was true, were we trapped in a form of social submission through socioeconomic or other circumstances. I wondered if true could I be forced and trapped by society to accept a new gender role as a female housewife. I decided to test my theory and gain some insight into this postulation. I placed the ad below on the web site.

TV seeks role-play. Train me to be your demure and obedient housewife.

Are you man enough to make me get down on my hands and knees and scrub the

Kitchen floor. If you’re feeling up for the challenge I’m waiting for your reply.

It wasn’t long before my mailbox at hotmail was filled. Most were sick and twisted individuals with no real intentions. I did receive one that sounded promising from a mister X. I wrote him back and explained further what I was looking for. I told him that there was to be no sex involved and no irreversible physical modifications. We exchanged e-mail every day for two weeks straight. He asked me my size and weight, I figured he would send me some shoes and clothing. On Friday I received this e-mail from Mr. X.

If you are truly serious about your intentions, you must follow every demand in this e-mail or you will never hear from me again.

1) You are to e-mail me tonight with your decision and real name if serious.

2) You are to go to the airport tomorrow with only the clothes on your back and your driver’s licensee.

3) Park your car in long term parking.

4) At the United ticket counter there will be an electronic one-way ticket to Phoenix.

5) I will pick you up at the airport; you will identify me by my Phoenix Cardinals baseball cap.

Mr. X             

I guess I asked for it and now I was going to get it. I was scared and not sure about the whole arrangement. I guess I threw caution to the wind and e-mailed him back.

I followed the instruction and was now on a plane bound for Phoenix Arizona. After touching down I walked through the gate to look for Mr. X. I saw the baseball cap and slowly walked in his direction. He was tall around 6’ and built like a football player. I spoke and said Mr. X, to which he nodded. Follow me to the car was all he said. He held the passenger door open for me and I climbed in. I was scared and hoped that every thing would be all right but I was in pretty deep. 

We drove awhile and pulled into the back of a strip mall and parked. You have an appointment here at the salon. Give me your driver’s license and car keys he said. I handed them over and he put them in his pocket. Knock on the door and you will be let in, she is expecting you. I will be waiting here in the car for you when you are finished.

A beautiful young woman my age greeted me at the door. So you’re going to be the future Mrs. X she said. I nodded in agreement and followed her in. It was early and the salon hadn’t opened yet. She told me to strip and throw my clothes in front of me. I was embarrassed standing there naked in front of her. She tossed me a pair of white silk woman’s underwear and told me to put them on. She collected my clothes in a garbage bag and went out back to throw them in the dumpster. I tried to remain calm waiting for her to return. Time to get started she said.

She sat me down and proceeded to wax every inch of hair from my body and face including my eyebrows. My skin was stinging and she applied a lotion over my body. Next she went to work on my hair. She glued extensions to the ends of my hair giving me shoulder length hair. She leaned the seat back and washed it in the sink. She applied what I assumed was hair dye and placed a plastic shower cap on my head. While that was working she went to work on my nails. A full set of acrylic nails were fashioned and finished with a French manicure. I was leaned back and my hair was rinsed. She combed the wet hair and cut it into a shoulder length bob. She dried my hair and applied hair spray. The color was honey blond no where near my natural brown. She looked at my hair satisfied and began with my makeup. She penciled on eyebrows and applied a light coat of mascara and eye makeup. My lips were lined and filled with a soft pink color. Next came more pain as she used a piercing gun on each ear lobe. I watched my reflection in the mirror become unrecognizable. With the modification that had occurred already I could feel my self being physically molded into my new social role. By my appearance society would expected me behave and act accordingly. If things hadn’t gone far enough two large silicone breasts were glued to my chest with surgical glue. Time to get you dressed she said.

She told me to stand and turn around. She wrapped a white corset around my torso and started to lace it in the back. I could barely breath and could feel her knee in my back as she tightened the laces. She rolled white silk stockings up each leg and attached them to the garters hanging from the corset. Next came the dress I could see where this was headed. She held open a beautiful white lace-wedding gown. I stepped in and she zipped it up the back. A white satin shoe with a 2" heel was placed on each foot. For the finishing touches she attached a veil to my head. She then slid a diamond ring and wedding ring on my left ring finger. As I gazed at my self in the mirror I would have married me, I looked beautiful. She led me to the back door and said, I hope you two have a wonderful life together. The thought occurred to me how long was he going to keep me like this. I slowly walked to the open passenger door Mr. X was holding. He said you look beautiful my dear and closed the door. Inside I began to realize how not only was I physically locked into this role but socially as well. I was now going to be socieoeconomically dependent on Mr. X for survival and be cause of it expected to act like his wife. My only out at this point I thought would be a collect call to a friend and I would have a lot of explaining to do. He climbed in the car and we drove off.

We drove for almost 45 minutes to the middle of nowhere. I hadn’t seen a house for the last ten miles, nothing but cactus and sand. I wondered if this was going to be it for me. I relaxed when I saw an old farmhouse in the distance. It was somewhat comforting but then again I had no idea where I was. We parked the car and walked to the house. He opened the unlocked door and carried me through the threshold. Looking around there was not much to the place. He set me down in the kitchen and told me to sit at the table.

He told me the honeymoon was now over.

I was told that now I was going to learn how to be a demure and obedient little housewife. You will not to speak unless spoken to. There will be a list of housework to be completed every day. Failure to complete your duties will be met with strict discipline. There is no phone, TV or radio in the house to distract you from your duties. You are a housewife and this is your world now you don’t need to concern your self with the outside world. It’s a good ten-mile walk in the hot desert to the nearest house I thought and no phone there goes my only out. How long you stay like this depends on you he said. If you fail to fulfill your wifely duties it will only prolong your stay. The other task you must complete is this throwing a plastic bag on the table. Inside is the yarn and instructions necessary to knit an afghan blanket. You are to work on it in your spare time after your housework is done. Upon its completion you will be boarded on a plane back home. I looked at him in shock, It use to take my mother months to knit those things. I had to be back in school in a few months. Now lets go to the bedroom and change you into something more appropriate for your new role in life.

He unzipped the back of my dress and unlaced my corset. There is a wardrobe for you in the closet. I want you to take every thing including your underwear off and put them in the bag on the bed. There are bras and underwear for you in the drawer. When you are done get to the kitchen and start dinner I’m starved. I undressed and placed everything in the bag as instructed. I opened the drawer pulled out a pair of under wear and a bra. They were plain, white cotton grandmother underwear and the bra was just as dull. In the closet hung five cheap obnoxiously flowered housedresses. I pulled one from a hanger and pulled over my head. I noticed there were no shoes, I guess if I was barefoot I couldn’t go far. I looked in the mirror wondering what the hell I had gotten my self into. It was to late now I had to go make my husband dinner. 

There was a Betty-Crocker Cookbook on the counter I was told to find a recipe and cook something. I was told, in the future I had to start planning the meals for dinner and making a grocery list for items I would need. While I was cooking and setting the table I noticed him carry the bag from the bedroom to the trunk of the car. There goes my only pair of shoes I thought. After dinner I cleaned up the table and did the dishes.

In the living room Mr. X was sitting reading a book. He told me I had better get busy knitting if I hoped to ever get out of here. I struggled with the directions and the needles for an hour. He closed his book and told me it was time for bed. I was relieved when he went to the other bedroom in the house and told me to go to my room. I laid down in bed and fell asleep.

I was awoken by a loud knock on my door and a voice telling me to get in the kitchen and make breakfast. After I finished cleaning up breakfast I was told I had ironing to do. I pulled the board and iron from the closet and started to iron white dress shirts. There must have been twenty of them. After that was done he handed me a scrub brush and a bucket. I want you on your hands and knees and scrub the kitchen floor spotless. I guess I asked for it, not I was getting it. The rest of the day I worked on the afghan and made dinner. Before bedtime I was told to set my alarm for 6AM and have breakfast ready by 6:30 he had to leave for work at 7.

The next day breakfast was ready and he left for work. He warned me not to goof off all day and dinner had better be on the table when he gets home at 5. After he left I went down the hall to his bedroom to see what was inside. It was locked not leaving me any access to his clothes or personal stuff. Running around all day with my housework I lost track of time and dinner wasn’t ready when he got home. I tried to apologize to which I was told to shut up and he had no choice but to punish me.

I was lead to the basement and my arms were cuffed over my head. My feet were shackled to chains on the floor. I was scared to death but either way I was trapped. He pulled up my housedress and pulled down my under wear. I felt a painful crack on my ass from a wooden paddle. What were you told he asked me. To have dinner ready at five, I replied. Was dinner ready at five? No I replied. Crack again, I guess you have a lot to learn about being a good wife. Yes I responded in pain. Tell me what you are with another crack of the paddle. I am a housewife I replied. Every time I smack your backside I want you to tell me what you are he ordered. This went on for what seamed like forever. He didn’t stop until I started to cry. Typical woman crying over nothing, he said. I’m going upstairs now and give you some time to think about your failure. With that he turned off the light and closed the cellar door. My backside was throbbing with pain and I felt completely humiliated.

I must have fallen asleep but was awoken by a stinging blow to my ass. Good morning dear he said. Are you ready to show me what a good housewife you can be or do we need to have a repeat of last night’s lesson? No I quickly responded. He undid my restraints and told me to get upstairs and cook breakfast.

Needless to say things around the house were done on time after that. I was told to make sure I had my grocery list ready for Friday. I had an appointment at the salon and we were going grocery shopping after that. Oh my god I thought he was going to take me out in public to a grocery store. I was scared but somewhat excited to get out of the house. The rest of the week went smooth and Friday had arrived.

He gave me a pair of flats and told me to grab my grocery list. He held the car door open for me and closed it behind me. We drove to the salon and parked in back. This time he followed me in the salon. The same woman that worked on me before greeted us. He told her that it was time for phase two. I started to get scared wondering what phase two was.

I was sat in the chair and my head wet down in the sink. My hair was cut short and set in tight rollers and permed. After that it was dyed a bright orange red color. It looked terrible compared to my previous style. My nails were soaked in acetone and removed. This was only the beginning and I was told to strip naked. Some solvent was applied and my silicone breasts were removed. It was a relief to get them off my chest. Mr. X handed the woman a folded pile of flesh toned padding. She opened it and held open the back. It was some kind of fat suit intended for me. I had little choice but to comply and stepped into the suit. I first worked my legs in and then pushed my arms through the sleeves. I felt her zip up the back and place a small pad lock through the zipper and a ring behind my neck. I was told there was a Velcro opening in the crotch area when I had to go the bathroom. I saw my reflection in the mirror I had the body of a 250lb woman, fat arms, big tits, big bubble but and a gut. Time to get you dressed she said. It was difficult to bend or move trying to get dressed. I pulled on an oversized pair of white underwear. It took me forever to pull on the pair of queen sized pantyhose. She helped me pull a white long sleeved turtleneck on. That completed she held out a large pair of black polyester pants. They were tight and showed the disgusting bulges and lumps of my new ass. Large black button earrings were placed on my pierced ears. A matching black beaded necklace put around my neck. My feet were put back in the flats that I wore in. An oversized black vinyl purse stuffed with tons of crap was placed on my shoulder. The finishing touches were a pair of large plastic eyeglass frames placed on my face. I saw my completed look in the mirror and wanted to die. I looked horrible, like a fat ugly housewife. Mr. X spoke up and said let’s go it’s time to go shopping. The way I looked before I figured wouldn’t draw too much attention to my self in public. This was going to make me stick out like a sore thumb.

We pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store and he turned off the car. I didn’t want to get out and be publicly humiliated but I was trapped. I had to accept my condition and do what I was expected to do. I pushed the cart up and down the isles trying to hurry up but Mr. X took great pleasure in my condition. He kept stopping and pulling something from the shelf and saying out loud, this ones fat free it might help your diet. I heard the comment of one child I passed to his mother. He asked her why I was so fat, to which she replied she just eats too much. After being paraded around the store we checked out and went home.

I was not allowed out of my new body and sprayed with a cheep perfume to keep me smelling fresh. The days seamed endless and one blended with the next. I was past the point of having had enough but was powerless to change anything. I was now completely physically and socially trapped in a new social role. My thoughts were now consumed with what I had to do today and only looking forward to getting out of the house on Fridays.

It was months before I completed the afghan and secured my release. It was quite an adjustment to go back to my former life after what I had been put through.



© 2000
The above work is copyrighted material. Anyone wishing to copy, archive, or re-post this story must contact the author for permission.