All Change

My wife's father had to take early retirement as his health was failing, so she became the boss of the family firm. They had about 20 employees and the business was doing very well. She was bringing home more income than I was.

Meanwhile, the company I was working for was struggling and eventually I was made redundant. There was a decent payoff, so I didn't need to worry about getting another job straight away.

My wife said I could stay at home and sort the house out as there were several jobs needing doing. We were in the pub one weekend with friends and the subject of work came up. My wife explained that I was doing the housework for the time being. My friend's wife joked that she could do with a housemaid as well.

We all laughed, but I noticed a glint in my wife's eye.

So it wasn't a total surprise when a couple of weeks later my wife announced that she had got an outfit to wear while working round the house.

It was a Sunday morning. I had just finished shaving when she called me back into the bedroom. There was a maid's uniform laid out on the bed. A very short black dress with built-in white petticoats, obviously designed to make the skirt flare out. There were several pairs of frilly white knickers, a white bra, a white suspender-belt with a laced back, and several packs of black stockings.

"Now you can't wear stockings with hairy legs," she said, "so I've got some depilatory cream for you. I'll help you with it." So it was that I found myself standing in the bathroom, legs apart, while my wife coated my legs with the cream. Then she continued applying the cream up my body, coating my pubic area and bottom, then my chest, back, arms and underarms. She made me stand still with my hands resting on my head for several minutes. "Tell me if it starts to sting," she said. It didn't.

She gently rubbed my arm to test if the cream was working. When she was satisfied, she let me step into a warm shower. "Just rub your skin gently if the hair isn't washing away on its own," she told me. I was surprised just how much hair was being flushed across the floor of the shower.

She handed me some shower gel. "Now wash yourself with this." It was Calvin Klein "Obsession". A heady perfume. Much nicer than the rather strange smell of the depilatory cream.

Moments later I was wrapped in a large towel. "Just pat yourself dry," she said. "No vigorous rubbing of your sensitive skin!"

Back in the bedroom, she helped me into the uniform.

"Knickers first," she told me. They felt lovely and silky, especially as they were in direct contact with my cock, balls and bum. There was not even any downy hair between my skin and those gorgeous knickers. I could sense a slight swelling of my cock. It was slightly embarrassing that my body was giving away how much I liked wearing this underwear.

I had to pull down the waistband of my knickers a little so that she could put me into the suspender-belt. She told me to breathe in while she tightened the laces and tied them into a large bow.

"Now the suspenders need to go down inside your knickers," she explained. "You always wear your knickers over your suspenders and stockings. Otherwise you'd have to unfasten your stockings every time you needed to take your knickers down."

The way she said it sounded as if I might have to take my knickers down quite often.

She showed me how to handle the stockings very carefully and deploy them up my legs. "Now fasten the suspender clasps and adjust the suspenders so that your stocking is nicely taut. You don't want slack suspenders and wrinkled stockings." There were three suspenders for each leg.

Once I had adjusted them to her satisfaction she helped me into the bra and spent some time adjusting the straps to ensure a comfortable fit. The bra was lightly padded, but didn't really alter my shape.

"You don't need to wear a bra as you haven't got any boobs," she said. "But it's all part of the underwear, isn't it? You are probably familiar with the phrase used by women as a general name for their underwear. Bra and knickers."

"You'll know you are wearing a bra. It should feel comfortable, but the straps on your shoulders and back will grip just enough to remind you have a bra on."

Next she helped me into the dress and fastened the back zip. "You'll need to practice fastening your bra and zip behind your back," she said.

"Now put your shoes on." I saw that there was a pair of shiny black shoes at the side of the bed. I hadn't noticed these initially. I stepped into them. They had heels about two inches tall. I could immediately feel that they changed the shape of my legs and made my bum stick out more.

"Now come and look at yourself," she said.

I went over to the large mirror on the wardrobe. I could see straight away just how short the dress was. There were several inches of pale hairless thighs showing between my stocking-tops and the white petticoats peeping out from under the black skirt.

I did have quite sexy legs, though. But it was definitely my (male) face. And I had almost no bust. I was quite clearly a "cock in a frock".

And I could feel that my cock was now very hard, although it wasn't visible in the mirror.

"Come on then," said my wife, "show us your knickers."

I lifted the front of my skirt. A huge erection was straining at the front of my lovely knickers.

An old-fashioned style of knickers with little frills around the leg-holes and a high waist. Big enough that my cock was entirely contained within them. Big sissy knickers.

In a competition between cock and knicker, the knickers would always win. Even though they felt wonderfully soft and silky, they would be able to cover my cock however large it got.

My wife seemed to be very pleased with my appearance. "You can wear your uniform for the rest of the day," she said. "Tomorrow you can put your underwear on when you get up. But you can wear male outer clothes to go out shopping. Change into your uniform when you get back home."

"But you must remember. These are your working clothes. They are for working in, not for wanking in. I will be expecting to get the benefit of your erections when I get back from the office!"

She showed me how to put lipstick on. "You can learn about more advanced make-up over the next few weeks. Practice makes perfect. And we'll let your hair grow so you won't look quite so boyish.

I won't go into the detail of our love-making that Sunday night. Just to say that it was the best ever. I had to keep my bra and stockings on until she had finished with me. But then she rewarded me with a lovely baby-doll nightie with matching knickers.

And that's the story of how I came to be a house-maid. Over the next few weeks My hair grew long enough that I could wear it in a pony-tail. Acceptable in boy mode. Practical in housemaid mode.

I became quite adept with applying various cosmetic items.

I got into the housework routine and I know for a fact that the house was cleaner, tidier, and less dusty now that there was a housemaid to do the work.

And each night I washed my worn knickers and stockings in the bathroom basin and hung them up to dry overnight.

I was a dutiful housemaid, performing all the extra little that my wife required.

And apart from a few regrettable exceptions when my knickers became cum-stained, I saved my erections for my wife's pleasure.

It was a comfortable, even enjoyable, routine. I used to think that housework was boring.

But that was before I was provided with a maid's uniform to wear. I thought that this state of contentment would last indefinitely. But then my wife came home from work one evening and made a surprising announcement.

She told me that her personal assistant had handed in her notice. She was getting married and moving to another town.

"I need someone to keep track of my appointments diary, to prepare letters and reports for me and generally keep track of the filing. So I have decided that you will be my new assistant. You'll be paid, of course. So you'll have more money to spend on pretty clothes. We'll make a few changes to your appearance over the next week or two before you start work in the office."

She explained that we would not be husband and wife in the office. "People will not know that we are related," she said. "So you have to take a new name."

"I have already told Human Resources that I have found a replacement assistant, so they don't need to recruit. Apart from me, only the HR manager will know your true identity. She has to know for legal reasons. And for the payroll, as your salary will be paid into your bank account."

"So your new surname will be Manhood," she informed me. "You will be ostensibly a female employee, so your first name will be Sissy.

Quite appropriate, don't you think?" I couldn't really deny that it was an appropriate name.

We were sitting on the settee and she had her hand up my tiny skirt. As she repeated the name "Sissy Manhood" her fingers were stroking my hard cock through the front of my silky knickers.

"Let me tell you a bit about Sissy Manhood," she went on. "She has large tits. She always wears a dress or skirt, never trousers. Her hemline is just a couple of inches above the knee. She always wears stockings and suspenders, never tights. She has pierced ears and manicured nails."

"She always refers to me and addresses me as Miss Willis. Everybody in the office addresses her as Sissy. She makes her own way to the office - she doesn't travel in my car as a rule, although she might sometimes travel with me to meetings.

And to avoid cock-ups in the office she wears a chastity device while at work.

A device for which I have the key. OK so far?"

"Yes, Miss Willis," I replied.

"Thank you, Sissy," she answered, giving my cock a gentle squeeze.

Work started on changing my appearance started almost immediately. My wife had acquired a pair of silicone breast-forms and attached these to my chest with medical adhesive. Although I could see that they were quite large, I was surprised how heavy they were.

I was grateful for my new bra - it helped transfer the weight of my tits onto my shoulders.

She had bought me a few outfits suitable for a personal assistant to wear. A personal assistant with large tits.

She took time off work to accompany me to a beauty salon to get my hair sorted out, my ears pierced and my nails done.

I had to get used to having my cock locked into a chastity device during the daytime hours.

I had to practise signing my name. Sissy Manhood. That's who I was now.

And WHAT I was too.

It was all very exciting.

But as the weekend approached I realised that it probably wasn't only going to be at work that we would not be husband and wife. The nature of the changes to my appearance were not going to be compatible with switching back to boy mode in order to socialise.

I was going to be Sissy full-time.

And the weekend before my first visit to the office my wife made another announcement.

"My period is just starting," she said. "It's something all women have to cope with. Even Sissy Manhood. It means that I have to use a tampon in a part of my anatomy that you don't have. So you'll be using this instead for your period, which you'll find will coincide with mine."

She handed me a black rubber object. It was shaped like a rather large eggcup containing a rather pointed egg. "It's a butt plug," she explained. "You'll need to use some lubricant to get it into your bottom."

I must have looked rather shocked. I didn't think anything that big would fit into my bum-hole.

"You can put it in now," she said, indicating that we needed to go into the bathroom.

She gave me a tube of lubricant jelly. "You'll need to keep this in your handbag while you're having your period," she said. "Get your knickers down."

She squeezed out a generous amount of the jelly onto my middle finger and told me to spread it around and into my bum-hole. She also squeezed some onto the butt plug. She handed me the plug and guided my hand so that the end of the plug touched my hole.

"Now push gently and at the same time try and relax your bum muscle." I managed to start doing this. The butt plug seemed very large (as indeed it was).

After some time I could feel that the largest part had passed inside my bottom, and it seemed that my bum-hole was drawing the plug inside me so that it could close round the narrow part of the plug.

I felt rather full of butt plug.

"You'll need to practise this several times before Monday morning," she told me. "You don't have to wear the plug at night and I would advise you to try and have a dump before you insert the plug each morning."

It was a rather nervous Sissy Manhood that started work the following week.

Nervous at arriving at a new job. And of having to get there on my own by public transport.

Nervous at meeting all my new colleagues. Wondering if they would realise that I was a sissy male and not female.

Although I was getting used to the weight and feel of my large tits and the way they moved, this was still a fairly new sensation.

I was conscious of keeping my buttocks clenched to prevent my butt plug from coming out (although there wasn't really any chance of it just slipping out - the part inside me was too wide for that to happen accidentally).

And all this took my mind off the chastity device that I was wearing.

I didn't have to do very much work the first day. There were lots of forms to sign (as Sissy Manhood) and familiarisation of fire escape routes and other procedures.

And of course finding the location of the ladies loo.

But it was signing my name that gave me a little thrill. Each time it was an acknowledgement, an acceptance, another brick in the wall, another step along the way, leaving the past behind.

I AM Sissy. I am A sissy. This is me. Sissy Manhood personified.

I was pretty exhausted by the time I got home that evening. My wife had taken pity on me and given me a lift home. We had stopped on the way to pick up a takeaway meal.

She told me that as it was my first day, I could remove the butt plug straight away. I went straight to the bathroom and removed the huge plug, rinsing it under tap, before washing my hands. It was a huge relief to feel empty again.

When I got downstairs, my wife had laid the food on the table. But before I sat down, she took the chain from round her neck that help the key to my chastity device. Sissy Manhood was free again.

And as we sat on the settee after eating, her hand reached up my skirt to ensure that my cock was hard for her.

Later she handed me a glass. "You need to relieve that swelling," she said. "Use the glass to collect your cum. Then drink it all. Don't spill any. And don't waste any."

She watched as I obeyed her instructions.

In the days that followed I got into the routine of working in an office.

Fitting the butt plug was also getting easier. Obviously my bum-hole was used to being stretched to get the plug in. Nevertheless, I was relieved at the end of the week when my wife informed me that my period was over.

Until next month.

Saturday evening was another nervous moment. We were meeting our friends in the pub. It would be the first time that they would have seen my new look.

I soon realised that they already knew about me, however. They were very kind and polite, complimenting me on my appearance. I was very relieved.

My friend's wife asked if I preferred office work to house work. "Oh," said my wife, "Sissy is still my housemaid, but only at weekends now."

Fortunately my maid's uniform had a very stretchy top, so it still fitted me even though I now had large tits.

Although having a large bust meant that the hemline was a bit higher (and more revealing) at the front.

And after a week wearing somewhat formal office attire, it was quite relaxing to get into that very short maid's uniform. Flashing my stocking-tops and knickers.

And being more accessible to my wife's roaming hands.

I settled into the routine of being a full time Sissy. The office work wasn't too onerous and Miss Willis seemed satisfied with my work.

Each month the start of my period was a little painful as my bottom had to get used to being stretched again. But then it got easier.

My wife's birthday was coming up. I asked what gift she would like.

"Oh, I've already got myself a present," she replied. "But you can give it to me on the day."

The day came at a weekend. Just after my period had finished. I had placed the wrapped parcel by the bed and handed it to my wife while we were still in bed. "Happy Birthday, darling," I said.

"Thank you dear," she replied. "And yes I hope so."

She got out of bed. I watched her unwrapping the parcel. I didn't know what was inside. Not until she opened it and put her present on.

I hadn't seen a strap-on dildo before.

But I had a good idea what was going to happen next.

The dildo wasn't as wide as the butt plug. But it was a lot longer.

Fortunately the tube of lubricant jelly was to hand.