I have been cross-dressing for years. I have not told my wife much about it and I normally dress when she’s out. I have always surfed things on the net and bought clothing. I was waiting for my wife to go to sleep and when she did I started on my computer. I was searching stories and info about pantyhose and cross-dressing. I know she may have a Dom streak but she does not show it. I then decide its time for bed and go to bed thinking about what being a girl would be like. I dream about being sexy and a wife. ...

Entry from the S(A)X Leather Bondage Story competition 2005 “I think we need to try something different Scott.” Exclaimed Samantha as we sat eating dinner in the dining room. “What do you mean Sam? Don’t you like your steak?” I replied. “Not a different food, goofy. I’m talking about our sex life.” Now I was concerned. Sam and I had dated for two years before I finally asked her to marry me six months ago. She had said ‘yes’ and not a week later moved in with me. I always thought our sex life had been pretty damn great! Granted, not extremely inventive or unusual, but great none the less. Now I wasgetting concernedthat perhaps she didn’t feel the sameand was already getting bored with me. ...

Part 1: Caught Out The words reaching his ears are unbelievable. Incredible. Soul-destroying and mortifying. The lips from which they are emerging, to form what must surely be amongst the most outrageous suggestions ever to have been put to a white Anglo-Saxon male a day short of his forty-first birthday, are plump and full and in no way contradict the fleshy features above and within the frame of long and silky black hair that, along with her skin-tone, speaks so eloquently of her lowly Bangalore roots. ...

Fred had been planning this for a week, his excitement giving him almost constant erections the entire time. Tonight he was finally ready to do some serious self bondage. He had all the gear ready in his living room and had set up his escape earlier in the day. Fred wasn’t as excited about the bondage as he was about escaping it, for to escape meant his leaving his tiny house nude and in bondage for the first time ever. Never had he exposed his private hobby or his private parts to the world, but tonight he would. First however he had to get ready. ...

“Are you sure you want to go through with this,” asked Jack, smiling innocently at the exotic form standing before him. “If you want, we can stop now.” Monica paused half a second, then beamed brightly at him. Her diminutive frame fairly glowed as she stood in the centre of Jack’s spacious special-effects studio. She had recently emerged from the shower; clean-shaven and utterly denuded of any hair save her head and her eyelashes. ...

Author’s Note" This story was inspired by a set of private messages exchanged on the forum between myself and Lady Jane. If you like this story, please thank her for giving me the idea. “Ladies, I’ll be gone for three days this time, so you’ll be taking care of things until I get back. I know you’re already familiar with your jobs, but let’s go over them, just to make sure.” ...

(story continues from Jane’s Story: The Fishbowl)_ Part 2: The Birthday Party Jane dozed the morning away. Every once in a while she’d get fidgety. She hadn’t drunk much at the party, but enough to mess up her sleep. That and the fact she was naked and locked in a giant fishbowl. She had lost the dart game and had agreed to spend the week with him, with Geoffrey. Jane slapped her hand on the glass. ...

(story continues from Jane’s Story 2: The Birthday Party)_ Part 3: Quality Time When he pulled out of her, Geoffrey produced a towel from behind a pillow. He wiped himself, then pressed it between Jane’s legs. Cuffed as she was she couldn’t wipe herself, but she squeezed her thighs together, appreciated the consideration. He tucked himself in, adjust his shirt and pants. He sat her up, settled himself on the couch, drew her back against him. He reached for her glass. The drink was mostly water, melted ice, and it felt good going down. He sipped his drink. He didn’t talk, just held her, gazed at the flickering tongues of flame. The moment went on for a deliciously long time. ...

(story continues from Jane’s Story 3: Quality Time)_ Part 4: At The Club Jane knelt between the girl’s legs. Cindy had a handful of her long, blonde hair, pressed her face to the girl’s pussy. The girl was tied to the couch, legs spread, ankles roped to the legs. There were ropes above and below her breasts. They had been cinched together making the girl’s breasts bulge. There were chrome-steel clamps on her nipples that jiggled as the girl squirmed. She was gagged with a large, red ball and wore a black blindfold. ...

(story continues from Jane’s Story 4: At The Club)_ Part 5: Weird and Wonderful The weird … Jane wiped the stove. It didn’t need wiping, but Cindy told her to wipe it. That was after she told Jane to strip and put on pantyhose, clipped heavy chrome-steel clamps to her nipples (those were going to be a bitch coming off), pushed a ridiculously large ball gag into her mouth, and locked a pair of leather cuffs on her wrists. Naked she could understand, but pantyhose? ...

(story continues from Jane’s Story 5: Weird and Wonderful)_ Part 6: Epilogue He handed down a bit of fruit, Jane slurped the cool, sweet morsel, licked his fingers, drew them into her mouth. He looked down at her and smiled. She whimpered. If she’d had a tail she would have wagged. “Surprised to see you here,” Jane said hugging her friend. “Yeah, well, Cindy’s gonna come down in a couple of weeks, do the whole Florida thing, Disney, Sea World, the keys, you know.” ...

(story continues from Jane’s Story 6: Epilogue)_ Part 7: Transition They were sitting in the airport lounge. Jane was going to Florida, Geoffrey would swing through the Carolinas, get some face to face time with clients before joining her in a few weeks. “Uh, Sir?” She didn’t have to call him sir, she wasn’t on a leash, but sometimes it slipped out. “Hm?” “When I spent the day with Cindy, well, we, uh, did things.” ...

(story continues from Jane’s Story 7: Transition)_ Part 8: The Wedding Day Jane stepped out of the shower, picked up the dryer, and gazed into the mirror. A stranger gazed back. After all this time she couldn’t get used to having short, dark hair. True, her natural color was dark, but she’d been blonde for just about ever and her hair had been long, long enough to almost reach her ass. Now it was dark, nearly black, and short. It hung gently on her shoulders, the tip barely reached her shoulder blades. ...

(story continues from Jane’s Story 8: The Wedding Day)_ Part 9: The Boat Ride Jane ran her fingers through her dark hair, stared at her reflection in the mirror. It had been quite a day yesterday, but it was a good morning, a normal morning. She slept chained to the bed, cuddled against Geoffrey. Just after dawn she had slipped under the covers to wake him with her mouth as she did every day. It was all so normal … and yet not. ...

Here’s my spring break series. Long story short, I got a fan letter from Jane, she’s a lifestyle sub (registered and everything), we started a correspondence, so I wrote this series of stories for her. Enjoy Jo. Part 1: The Fishbowl Jane surfaced again, her world coming more into focus. She was in a strange bed. It was soft, kind of like a futon pad, pillow soft. Speaking of pillow, there wasn’t one. She raised her head, opened one eye. Nope. No pillow. No bedding, either. And she was naked. ...

ONE Jane woke slowly… It was warm in her bedroom, luxurious and comforting. She simply laid there, coming awake and letting her eyes focus on her surroundings; the rich, dark paneling of her walls, the expensive prints and pastels framed for her pleasure, the old, sturdy furniture of the dresser and vanity, the wardrobe that she loved so much. She could smell coffee percolating in the kitchen, barely, over the smells of bacon and eggs. Jane smiled, glad that Cook was single, with no family near. Her mouth watered, anticipating breakfast. ...

(story continues from Jane’s Toy)_ SIX I woke to darkness… My world was spinning, swaying to and fro and I felt my mind swirling in kind as I tried to get my bearings. I was still bound; hand, foot and elbow, and by the feel about me, still lying helplessly in the toe of an over-sized nylon stocking that dangled from the ceiling. But truth, it wasn’t the stocking that was over-sized, but rather me that had been shrunk down to the size of a mouse and deposited within for the night for safekeeping. By my Giant captress, Jane, who was now missing. ...

(story continues from Jane’s Toy Part 2)_ TEN I tumbled about with her movements… My captress, the Giantess Jane had declared that we were going out- “to the mall,” she had said, and for her convenience rather than my comfort she had simply and literally dropped me into her purse. I hit hard, my little four-inch body slamming on something hard and metallic, knocking the breath out of me in a gush. I bounced and rolled, wrapped up in almost a ball in my hog-tie, sliding deeper into the depths of her bag. ...

(story continues from Jane’s Toy Part 3)_ SIXTEEN I don’t know how long I spent on the floor at the feet of the Giantess Jane, she who now owned me, apparently. I was only now, after all the things that happened to me; the shrinking and experiments, the indignities and punishments to realize that my captress and her friends all considered me as less than human. Not a man any more, but more a pet or toy for their amusement. ...

(story continues from Jane’s Toy Part 4)_ NINETEEN I was floundering in the icy cold, wet dark… My arms and legs were aching and cramping as I treaded water, trying desperately to keep afloat. I don’t know how long it had been since the Giantess Jane’s butler had dropped me into the pitcher of ice water in the refrigerator, but it felt like eternity. I could feel the icy chill permeating my bones, seeping into my skin and making my tiny, six-inch body sluggish. My muscles were cramping from both the cold and the effort of keeping my head above water. True, I was resilient since I had been shrunk, but I still felt pain, and extremes of hot and cold, and after having just been encased in hot wax, my skin was even more tender and raw against this new, frigid punishment. One thing; my erection had shriveled away into nothing. At one point I had given up, or at least thought that I had. My aching tired body had been paddling for what seemed hours, and the punishment and hopeless, helpless thing that my life had become unbearable; the constant torture from the giantess and everyone it seemed, the humiliations at her hands, and the alienation. No one would help me, and in fact, everyone I encountered seemed to want to see me abject and humiliated, if not outright hurt. It was too much… So, when my body started to ache too much and I was shivering too hard in the icy water I had simply succumbed and let gravity drag me down. I thumped on the bottom, still shivering and sore, and waited to drown. And waited… And waited… I shot back to the surface after what had to be minutes and gasped for air as soon as I broke the top of the water. I had not drowned, but I still did need to breathe. I did not understand, but I floundered and kicked on the edge of panic for some time. Finally though I had started to calm, my heartbeat slowing again, the pain returning. I had not died. Had I really wanted to? If I had, did it matter? And then I had to wonder. I had heard often of children dying, suffocating in abandoned refrigerators because some idiot had not removed the door. The air had run out. The air would run out on me, maybe should have already. I don’t know, but I am still here, still paddling after what has to be hours in the dark and icy cold… ...