SUBJECT: Betty R.
Betty is a highly successful woman executive for a multinational corporation.
Long before the women’s liberation movement was popularized, she was a working woman and mother.
She had been married twice. Her first husband had been deceased some ten years ago. She had two daughters.
The first, May, is twenty-one years old. She is tall, slender and fair, with long legs and sharp pointed breasts.
The second daughter, Sally, is nineteen, blonde and plump, and very buxom.
Less than two years ago, Betty married Robert, a young man who was 12 years her junior. She, Robert, and her two daughters live in a luxury condominium in the city.
Betty has short brown hair, large breasts, and a plump, matronly figure. She is used to being the boss at her place of work and carries her dominance into the home, particularly in regard to her husband.
You know I keep my husband in dresses, Doctor. But the other night, when I came home from work, his skirt was raised, and his panties lowered.
I unlocked the door of my apartment and stepped inside. There was a struggle going on in the living room.
The group froze like statues when they heard me enter. I folded my arms over my chest and impatiently tapped my foot.
My husband, Bobbi, was the center of the action. I haven’t called him Robert since the day I put him in dresses, which was also the day that I married him.
He’s been in dresses ever since.
He wore a white blouse, a plaid skirt, and white cotton bikini-style panties. He was struggling in the grip of my daughters.
My younger daughter, Sally, wore a pair of blue jeans. She was nude from the waist up, and her large breasts jiggled and bobbed as she struggled.
My older daughter, May, was undressed. She was nude, with the exception of the dildo that was strapped to her hips.
Her body was thin and slender, with small, budding breasts. Her pink nipples were hard and pointed.
The dildo was flesh-colored. Thin leather straps held it on her hips. It dangled as it jutted from her hips.
The girls held Bobbi. I had interrupted them in the act of stripping him.
Sally held Bobbi’s skirt high above his waist. May stood in back of him. She was yanking his panties down. They were rolled at the knees, and his clean-shaved bottom was bare.
I said, “Will someone please explain to me what’s going on here?”
May spoke first. “Bobbi’s being disobedient, Mom. He’s playing hard to get, and Sally and I are going to teach him a lesson!”
Sally said, “It’s true, Mom. May wanted to try out her new dildo on Bobbi, but Bobbi fought us, and wouldn’t do what we told him to do!”
The girls didn’t know that I had sodomized Bobbi with a dildo the night before.
I dressed him in his cutest lingerie, and took him to bed. I tied his hands, and stuffed some pillows under his belly to prop up his ass.
May and Sally were out on dates, so they didn’t know that I had done it. If they had been home they would have known, because I don’t keep any secrets from them, as all three of us use and abuse my cross-dressed husband for our pleasure.
But, they had been out, so they didn’t see me grease up the crack of Bobbi’s plump ass with lubricant.
They hadn’t seen me strap on the fat black dildo and kneel behind him. They hadn’t seen me part his buttocks and prod his anus with the dildo head.
They hadn’t heard his cries of pain as I penetrated him. I had stretched him out inside his ass, but he was still tight, and even with the lubricant it hurt him when I pushed the dildo in his ass.
I rocked back and forth, pumping the big black shaft in and out of his asshole. His cock was hard and jutted out from under his girl’s lingerie.
I held his cock and fondled it as I fucked him bottom. I pinched his nipples erect and squeezed him.
I masturbated him. When I knew he was going to come, I gave his cock a few final tosses, bringing him off.
His come jetted on the sheets. I gripped his hips and held them in place, the dildo buried deep inside him.
When I was done, I eased the dildo out of him. He sagged and collapsed on the stained sheets.
I used him hard and I was sure that his stretched rectum would be sore and aching today.
But my girls, not having been home, couldn’t know that.
All they knew was that Bobbi had dared to defy them - an unforgivable sin.
And that was all that mattered to me, too. Because I didn’t care how sore he was.
I had schooled him to obey any command that I or my girls gave him, no matter how weird or bizarre it might seem.
I told him that if the girls ordered him to do something he didn’t think was right or fair, he should do it, and tell me about it later.
That way, if they were abusing him too much (and the way we treated him, that would take a lot of abuse!) he would be able to tell me, and I could correct the problem, if I thought there was a problem.
But now, Bobbi had foolishly defied my girls, and had sinned, and would have to be punished.
I looked at my cross-dressed husband. The last two years of training had worked wonders on him.
When I married him, I knew that he was a total submissive who needed the firm, guiding hand of a strong woman.
I had dominated him in the bedroom before our marriage and he knew he could expect nothing but the same after we were wed.
But he never expected me to put him into skirts, and keep him there, a submissive house husband.
That’s what I did, though.
I used hair-removing solution and a straight-razor to remove all the nasty hair from his body, except for a neatly trimmed bush around his cock and balls.
The first time I shaved him smooth, his ass had been as red as a boiled lobster. That was because he didn’t agree with my plans to feminize him, and I had to beat his bottom to put him in his place.
I put him on a strict beauty regimen. Once he was smooth shaven, he had to stay that way. I inspected him every day to make sure he did, and when I found too many offending hairs for my liking, I beat him.
He soon learned to keep himself smooth and hairless.
He was required to rub moisturizing lotions into his skin, to make it soft and smooth as butter.
After two years of doing it, his skin was as smooth and satiny as that of a young girl’s.
His masculine clothing went to the Salvation Army. He would have no use for it from now on.
He was forced to dress in skirts and blouses and other prim attire during the day, and sexy lingerie during the night.
His hair grew out until it was brushing his shoulders. Then I cut it and styled it with elegant feminine lines.
All this he resigned himself to. I didn’t really need to use force; the threat of divorcing him was all I needed to bring him to heel.
But I spanked and whipped him anyway, because I liked to do it.
It really blew his little mind that I shared him freely with my daughters, though.
Why shouldn’t I? It pleased me to do so. He was clean and cute and totally submissive and I had taught him how to please a woman in every way.
Since my daughters and I are very close I decided on the philosophy of share and share alike.
That really devastated Bobbi. He was able to face the prospect of a woman twelve years older than him, namely myself, being his mistress and master.
He was not so easily able to accept being the slave of my teenaged daughters. Too bad for him. He learned to obey them the way he obeyed me.
We three females whipped and tormented him until he learned to obey.
Now however, I saw that he needed a new lesson in obedience. If he would dare to defy my daughters, how long would it be until he defied even me?
I would nip his rebellion in the bud.
I went to him and slapped his face. My palm stung, so I could imagine how much his face hurt.
Bobbi knew he had sinned greatly, and he made no move to escape.
Sally went into my bedroom and got my leather strap. She found it easily, since she had often used it on Bobbi herself, as had May.
May reluctantly took off the dildo. I told her she wouldn’t be able to use it for a while.
She was disappointed. She brightened up when I promised her that before we were done punishing Bobbi he would beg for her to use the dildo on him.
We stripped Bobbi naked. We handled him roughly and made him cry out in pain.
I sat down on the sofa and pulled him face down over my lap. May tied his hands and Sally forced a red ball-gag between his jaws.
Then we took the strap to his bottom.
I say we, because the three of us took turns disciplining him. When one of us got tired, the other would take over the bottom-beating chores.
By the time we put aside the strap, Bobbi was trembling and cowering on my lap. His bottom was bright red and welts and blisters rose on the rounded cheeks.
I cupped his chin and lifted his head so I could look him in the eyes. “You’ve been acting like such a spoiled little baby, that I’ve decided to treat you like one. We’re going to put you in diapers!”
Bobbi groaned from behind his gag.