How my wife learned of my fetishes
I was reading on the forum about how to tell your wife about your cross dressing. I thought I would share my limited knowledge of the subject.
I was in a symphonic band group in high school. A group planned a dance after a performance in the fall of our senior year. Unfortunately it was on the night of a football play-off game. After the performance I headed to rented hall for the dance. I was the only boy there. I danced every dance and drank way too much punch. Toward the end of the night, the little bit of alcohol in the punch was affecting us all. A group of girls talked me into trading my stuffy old tux for a long black skirt like everyone else was wearing. The effect was immediate. The nylon slip against my legs, the hem on my ankles and the flow of the skirt as I danced was intoxicating. It only lasted a few minutes, but I was hooked.
Soon I had my own complete outfit and I wore it in private as often as I could. I had shoulder plus length hair as a proper musician and when it was washed and brushed to perfection, I thought I was very passable. At the holidays a group of girls went caroling in a few nursing homes and I joined them. Once I tried wearing my skirt and ruffled blouse, but it didn't go over well and I never tried it again.
I went off to college and never looked back at our symphonic band group. I was a music major and high school was a faded memory until a fellow band member asked if I was going to use the free tickets to our last concert of the year. Each member was given two tickets for family members but my relations with my family had deteriorated over the four years to the point where they were not interested. I gave her the tickets.
After the concert she brought her friends over to thank me for the tickets. One of the girls looked very familiar but I could not think why. I knew very few people off campus and I was 500 miles from my home town. These friends were from a town just 20 miles west of here. Sometimes in a crowded noisy room something comes across clear as a bell. I heard someone say “I played a violin in high school back in Massachusetts.” It was her. I caught her eye and mouthed “Victoria?”. She mouthed “Jimmy?”
The rest is history. She had earned her RN and was working to get a BSN, I was about to become an unemployed professional musician. We dated for a few years while I worked various jobs before a symphony job became available. One day when she was at my place putting away laundry she had done for me, she came across my black skirt. “You don't still wear this do you?” It is never good when the question indicates the answer they want. We sat down and I explained that this was part of who I am and probably was not going away. That really cooled things off between us for quite a while. We still saw each other occasionally but meeting only in very public places. I didn't tell her that my whole wardrobe was in the storage room with my self bondage toys. We probably would have never married if I had come clean, but that might have been better for both of us.
Life was pretty normal for us as long as I only played when she was not home. We had been married about five years when she took an unexpected “Mental Health Day” off from work. I had asked a machinist to make a heavy brass posture collar with key-less magnetic locks. He brought it by to show me while she was home! She watched silently as he showed off his work. He didn't ask what it was for and I didn't tell him. I had expected it to be split at the front and back but he said he couldn't get good alignment that way and the rings didn't look right not being centered. He split it at the sides, added dowel pins for perfect alignment and machined out a pocket in the front half on each side for the lock mechanism. A brass pin held the lock in place. The back on each side held a pocket for the lock bar. The rings were 3 inch diameter in front and 2 inches in back. The whole thing was highly polished and sealed. He handed it to me and said try it. I was shocked by the weight. It must have weighed 50 pounds! I put the pieces on the table, lined up the dowel pins and slid it together with a satisfying click. I tried to put it apart with no success. He reached over and put a small metal rectangle on each side near the locks and said try now. I tried and it easily slid apart. With it apart, I operated the locks with the magnetic keys. They worked perfectly and made no noise at all. He gave me all four keys (2 per lock, keyed alike) and I paid him.
When he was gone, Vicki gave me an angry look and said “Do I need to ask what this is for?”
We had another long evening of talking about fetishes and desires. Actually it was more of a monologue because she didn't say much. It was a long cold week in our house. We said what we had to but like roommates. I was who I am, the ball was in her court. Would she leave over this?
Finally Friday night came. I had a concert and got home after 11 PM. She was sitting at the table with the collar still there. I didn't notice that the keys weren't there. You've had that almost a week, aren't you going to try it on? No, I thought I would do that in private. “Put it on!” Yes ma'am! I took off my jacket and shirt and picked up the halves. They were so heavy I had trouble holding them. I put the big one against my throat and had to look at the ceiling. I slid the back half on until I heard the sickening click. The front was the posture part. It rested against my chest and held my chin so high my neck was stretched out straight. I could barely see Vicki over my cheeks and that was as far down as I could look. “How does it fit Honey?” she asked as though she cared. “It is very heavy and tight” I said. “Where are the keys?” “Oh, you won't be needing the keys for quite a while, so I have them.”
She got up, shut the lights off and went upstairs. I stood up with the help of the table. Having about half your total weight added around your neck has a massive effect on your stability! I could not see the floor if the lights were on, but I have lived here long enough to know my way around. The stairs have hand rails on both sides so I made my way to the bedroom. I fell over taking my pants off and had a terrible time getting back up. I crawled into bed and asked her to take this off. She ignored me. I think I slept a little, but not comfortably.
Daylight finally filled the room and I was told to go shower and get ready. Get ready for what? I showered unsteadily and nearly smashed my face on the sink brushing my teeth. I could not bend at the waist and hold my head up! I walked back into the bedroom naked. She was standing there in a black nightie and robe holding what looked like a dog leash. There was a snap noise and I was lead downstairs but we didn't stop there. The cellar stair were narrow and there was only one hand rail but we made it into the dimly lit basement. She opened the door to what had been an old roommate's storage room. Inside there was an old folding iron cot like they used last century for unexpected guests. She had me unfold the rusted antique and flatten the lumpy mattress. The mattress stunk of cellar but there was a sheet and pillowcase folded in the middle. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light I could see clothes hanging on the wall. Put these on and she threw them on the cot. This was my own maid uniform! She had found my wardrobe! I put on the short black dress with the bra and half slip, The large white apron, the hairband and the 2 inch heels. We left, she closed the door and shut off the light. Yes the light switch was outside the door.
In my toy room she had laid out my full serving harness. She had found and opened my bondage toy chest! I didn't need instructions to put this on. A large leather belt around my waist fastened in the back. Two silver chains from a ring in front went to wrist cuffs, a chain was between the cuffs and a chain went from each cuff to the ring on my collar. The only lock was at the collar. All the other chains were permanently fastened. I picked up the serving tray and the chain between my cuffs came tight under it. Custom designed years ago before we were married.
The menu she expected was on the counter. I cooked everything she asked for but “chef” was not on my resume! When everything was ready, I notified her and she arrived promptly. I served her with all the pomp and circumstance afforded a princes (and some one who holds the keys!). After breakfast, I cleaned up and thought about making something for myself when she caught me drinking the left-over coffee. “You don't do anything unless I tell you to do it. Understand?” She lead me into the living room and bent me over the arm of a stuffed chair. As I bent over, I noticed a video camera on a bookshelf! I wonder how many of those were around? She pulled up my skirts and I knew what was coming, but I had never actually felt it. When it came, I wasn't prepared. The pain was far above the worst I have ever felt. I screamed and twisted to try to stand up but the leash was fastened to the chair leg. Then it came again. And again and again. The riding crop was finding its target so often I was no longer screaming for individual stripes, it was just one continuous scream until I ran out of air. These were my own toys but I never knew the pain they could inflict!
About the time I finished cleaning up breakfast, she gave me the lunch menu and the scene started over again. She added a ball gag to help me resist the temptation to feed myself. When she had finished eating, she scraped her plate and all the scraps into a bowl and put it by her feet. She took out the gag and said “Feast yourself”. My hands were still harnessed so I could not reach my mouth. I got down on my knees and plunged my face into the bowl. I had no way to clean my face so I worked to clean up after lunch with food stuck to my hair and skin. When I was done she released the harness and let me clean myself. Then she said the lawn needs one more mowing before winter. We use a lawn service so we don't even have a lawn mower! Wrong. Nearly buried in the garage was an old push-mower that was so old it had steel wheels! You will use this and you will do an excellent job! I had never used one of these before and the back yard had a high fence so it was very private so I started there. This was more work than you can imagine. It took me hours and I was covered in sweat when I finished the back yard. The front yard was small but the sidewalk was one edge! Dusk was approaching and maybe no one would recognize me, but it would be harder to see what I was doing. I was not looking forward to anymore caning with the riding crop so I bravely opened the gate to the front yard. The maid's uniform was soaked and looked horrible but it had to do. There was nobody in sight so I started at the sidewalk. Soon people started walking by and I would give a quick wave and mow toward the house.
Vicki came out dressed to kill and said she was going to a show. She had left a note and a pitcher of water on the porch for me. I finished the lawn in the dark. When there was no one in sight I turned on the front lights and looked for missed spots. I finally decided that it was as good as it was going to get. I put the mower away and went up on the porch. The house was locked! I sat in a chair and read the note. “I hung a collar in the middle of the porch. Put it on and wait for me.” I poured a glass of water and walked over to the collar. It was in full view of the street, hanging by a short chain from a large flower pot hook screwed into the ceiling. Suddenly I had to pee! The back door was locked too! Thank goodness for a high fence! Back on the porch I sat and finished my water and thought when I see her car, I'll put the collar on. Then I remembered the video camera. Was there one watching the porch? I put the collar on and clicked the small lock that was with it.
It was a warm evening and people were walking by and greeting me as I stood there is my maid uniform. I just waved and wondered if they could not see the chain. I stood there embarrassed by every look I got from a passerby. Evening turned to late night and traffic on the sidewalk ended, but I stood there. Eventually Vicki appeared and walked right by me and went inside. What seemed like a long few minutes she came out and unlocked the collar and said “go to bed”. She was asleep when I got there and the room smelled like a wine cellar.
Sunday morning the keys to the posture collar were on the table.
Three months later dressing and bondage has not been mentioned again.
Topic: Wrong way to break the news - wounded relationship (Read 6233 times)
