All that I Like and Dream of

She knows you're going to rummage through her closet. But you have no idea yet that she knows.

She's just going to see her girlfriends, in fact, her girlfriend knows too.

You think she's going to be flirting up a storm again.

She knows you're going a little further each time, and she's staying away a little longer, too. Right now, she still calls when she's on her way home—it's a little under 45-minute drive, so you still have plenty of time to “take a nap on the couch🤭.” Although she did notice twice last week that not all of your mascara had been completely removed.

I felt the discomfort; it felt like an hour to me, though in the end it must have been just a few minutes.

She broke the silence: “Sorry, but we both know what’s going to happen.”

Silence fell again; I wanted to resist, but I couldn’t. I know I’ll never be able to feel like a man again after this, and she’ll certainly never treat me that way again either.

And all because of that one comment: “Whoa, you look sexy!

She fired back immediately, “Would you like to try it, too?!”

That’s easy to say now—she was very convincing. “No, they don’t just look sexy—you really have to try them; what’s the worst that could happen? No, of course I won’t tell anyone...”

After I pulled it over my first leg, I felt my control slip away; she was enjoying what was happening and took control. Now I do everything she asks—anything for that feeling........

I had no idea this would happen.....

She put me on some dress and took me by the hand and led me downstairs...

We walked into the living room, and there sat her husband and my wife......

When my wife saw me, she turned around and said to him, “I promised you a blowjob—do you believe me now?”

I wanted to walk back, but there was a force I couldn't explain, everything went the other way around than it should happen in my head, I wanted to walk away resalutely, but it didn't work out, "I followed recommendations that followed." So it couldn't help...

In the months that followed, I didn’t hear anything, from Xandra. Luckily, my husband was home a little less, so the mess wasn’t as bad—he had a few business trips abroad.

Then Xandra called me and asked if I could stop by; she said she had good news.

Xandra walked with me into my husband’s office… who, at that very moment, was abroad…

I hope you're happy—there I was, looking straight into the eyes of my “husband”....

I hope you're satisfied—there I was, looking straight into the eyes of my “husband”....

My heart skipped a beat, but I quickly pulled myself together. Xandra said, “It took a little while, but he picked up on the hypnosis quickly; besides, it helped that he’d already experimented with your lingerie.” I looked at her questioningly, but I could see the advantages of the current situation.

She said I could try it out for about two weeks; after that, it would become increasingly difficult to get him/her back completely...

I agree—how could I deny it? So she began…

“You know, I like this guy, and he’s really strong…” She slowly slid her hand to a spot that feels really good.

“I’m going to spoil you,” she said. “I’ve been coming home late a lot these past few weeks, so I have some making up to do.”

She grabbed him and began, “When I’m away, I’ve noticed that the guy I like sometimes rummages through my drawer.” Unfortunately, my body reacted to this immediately. “I think he really likes nylon.” At the word “nylon,” he went rock hard, and I reacted right away by moving her hand slowly over him.

Meanwhile, she had pulled down my pants and started rubbing her nylon-clad foot against my leg.

“When the woman who lived in that house found out, she set up a camera.” I wanted to say something, but she subtly placed a finger on my mouth. The tip of that finger slowly moved toward my lips. No, I didn’t want this, but before I knew it, it happened anyway—I started sucking on it slowly. I didn’t know how she managed it, but suddenly there was a pair of pantyhose over my genitals, and she continued what she was doing. “At first, the woman was startled, but she soon became aroused by the images she saw. The first time, he just put on a pair of pantyhose, but every day after that, he went a little further.” The person in the picture looks a lot like me.

The worst part is that the right side—my left side—was my wedding suit, the red blouse, the black miniskirt, and the black patterned pantyhose—I had worn them with those shoes the night before.

She didn't say anything else but continued to pamper me for a little while longer. I didn't dare say a word. She stood up, walked over to her drawer and she grabbed the clothes from the night before that I thought I had hidden well.

She laid them down next to me and rested her hand there again.

“You look sexy in those clothes. We both know you can’t stop anyway, but I do want to teach you some more makeup skills. So just do what you have to do—your body has already spoken.”

I lay there on the bed, trembling. Yes, my body had spoken……

Your left side is taking over from your right side—enjoy it, I’m fine with it. I knew this could happen—that’s why your wedding suit looked a little off.

A few days later, she texted me, “So, have you figured it out yet…?” I sent her a photo back.

I’ve been friends with Jacqueline for a long time; we see each other regularly, a few times a week.

We’ve become really close over the past few months. Maybe a little too close.

Jacqueline is married and has a young man living with them. It won’t be easy to reconcile this with her home life.

One evening she came to me and said she’d found a way out. Her husband had told her how to do it himself; she’s just certain that the outcome isn’t what he has in mind. She tells me her story, and it excites us both; I’m going to support her as she carries it out.

I’m lending her some pantyhose and stockings; I wear 12- or 15-denier stockings, which are a bit thinner than what Jacqueline wears.

We laid a few pairs out on the couch together and each picked out different pairs.

My wife was skilled at hypnosis; she was a psychiatrist and still used it to treat trauma and such, so she was very good with people.

I jokingly asked my wife if we couldn’t make him a little more feminine—maybe that would make things a little calmer around the house.

Jacqueline was sitting on the chair in the living room and looked at me with an expression that said, “I can work with this.”

“So, to sum it up, I live with my husband and a young man, and you want less testosterone in the house,” I nodded in agreement. She continued, “You want me to use hypnosis and such for that—which is actually my job.”

I replied, “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean, and if you handle it smartly, it’ll seem like his own idea and no one will bat an eye.” She looked at me, and before I knew it, we were locked in a passionate kiss.

The rest of the day went on as usual, and we didn’t talk about it again after that.

A day or two later, I suddenly notice the clothes rack in our room. It’s covered entirely with pantyhose and stockings. They seem thinner than the ones Jacqueline usually wears. I take one down and notice how incredibly soft they feel. I brush it across my face and am startled by my body’s reaction; I quickly hang it back up.

I ask her during dinner, “What’s that laundry rack doing in our bedroom? And is whatever’s hanging on it yours?”

She gives me a defiant look, “I was cleaning out the laundry closet, that’s why. They’re soft, aren’t they?” she says very sweetly. I feel my face flush and say as calmly as possible, “Yeah, they are.”

Otherwise, everything goes normally, though I feel a bit awkward. She’s going to a friend’s house tonight, which she does quite often. I’m staying home; I usually go for a run or something, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

She gives me a kiss before she leaves, and I go back to watching TV and playing with my phone...

After a while, I go upstairs to take a shower, and then I want to read a book in bed until she gets home.

I walk up the stairs and on the landing......

Hmm, that’s not her style, so I pick it up and take it with me to the bathroom. I toss it in the laundry basket and put the shoes in front of it. I undress, and my curiosity gets the better of me—I take it out of the laundry basket and put it on. Underneath is a purple dress she wore today; it still smells of perfume. I put that on too. The feeling that washes over me is indescribable. I slip on the heels, and before I know it, I’m standing in our bedroom, admiring myself in the mirror. The phone rings; it’s Jacqueline. “Can you take a look? I think I forgot to turn off the gas under the stew.” I walk downstairs and turn off the gas. “You sound nervous.” I tell her I was just about to hop in the shower, that I’m now walking around the house half-naked, and that there’s still some of her stuff lying on the landing. She laughs and says, “Half-naked, so you’re wearing my pantyhose.” I laugh back a little nervously and say, jokingly, “Sure.”

Nothing much happened in the weeks that followed—well, the only thing that kept my attention was the rack in the bedroom, which would occasionally provide me with a bit of a distraction, usually with a dress or a skirt and a blouse that I’d fish out of the laundry basket.

Until one evening during dinner she said, “Do you remember what you suggested about two months ago, that thing about too much testosterone?” I looked almost surprised and pretended I didn’t remember, “Explain it to me, refresh my memory.”

“Never mind,” she said, “it seemed like a fun idea, but if you’ve already forgotten it! I had the ultimate point of no return in mind—rubbing my panty-clad foot over his nose and then telling him what to do. I’m sure that would’ve been fun; then he’d immediately understand what else happened, and there’d be absolutely no turning back.” I started laughing, “How are you even going to get a panty-clad foot on his nose? But oh well, I guess it didn’t work out anyway,” I added with a chuckle.

“Go lie down on the couch,” she said, “I’ll clean up, and you can think about whether you have a better plan, because before you know it...” she broke off her sentence, and I felt her pantyhose-clad foot slip under my pant leg. For a moment, I thought she’d realized I was wearing pantyhose under my pants, but then she walked away.

I did what she suggested and lay down on the couch. Not long after, she was done. She stood next to me, and before I knew it...

I sensed what was happening and immediately thought, “Oh no…” She smiled and said, “Go upstairs and get changed—you know what to wear now; it’s on the bed… Testetron has been away from home for a few weeks, so it seemed like the right time to me.” I got up and walked automatically toward the bedroom…

When I came downstairs, she immediately said she’d like a glass of wine and that we needed to talk for a moment...

I poured the drink and sat down next to her. We looked at each other, and I felt a little awkward, but Jacqueline clearly didn’t.

We kissed. She told me she didn’t regret what had happened, that it wasn’t exactly what she’d intended, but that she didn’t want to put all her eggs in one basket. Look, with hypnosis, it’s just the way it is: if you don’t want it yourself, it doesn’t happen. Now take a look at yourself and answer honestly—do you feel comfortable right now?

I nodded in agreement and added that it still feels a bit awkward, but strangely enough, it also feels familiar. I also mentioned that I wanted more than just to be a sissy maid—I wanted to be her girlfriend, too. She placed her hand on my leg and rubbed it reassuringly, “Don’t be afraid.” There was a knock at the door, and Jacqueline immediately called out, “Come in.” I felt a little awkward, but that vanished the moment he stepped inside.