MOTHER-IN-LAW'S PRETTY MAID! Feminised by his wife! Trained by her mother! In the kitchen AND in her bed! She waited until he was wearing the new bra before telling him. He was sitting before her dressing table mirror applying a thick coat of coral pink lipstick. "Mummy will be here any minute. She's offered to help you, help both of us." Her cheeks went warm as she added meaningfully, "In bed!" "You can't be serious!" He whispered, "You want me to share our bed, with your Mother!?" She went white with anger, "Don't make it sound so sick. I've shared a bed with my mother all of my life! If anyone's sick around here it's you! Look at you! You're wearing my bra. Those breasts are almost as big as mine!" Mike stared down at his chest. he felt the sting of tears at the back of his eyes. Ever since she'd used that hormone cream on his breasts he'd felt weak and tearful. But his breasts certainly looked full and realistic. He knew part of the effect was the cunningly underwired bra and its pre-shaped half cups - and yet. He couldn't deny the real weight and fullness that tugged at his chest-wall. His wife was still angry. "And what did you wear in bed last night?" He blushed, like a guilty schoolgirl. "But..but you wanted me to wear it. You said you liked me...in ..in a nightie." Her face loomed over his. "Listen! You loved being the woman! And Mummy will show us both how to swap roles. There's more to being a wife than wearing a frock. Mummy is an authority-figure. She'll train you. In bed, and in the kitchen!" Mike suddenly wished he wasn't wearing a the bra and the half slip. It was difficult asserting one's masculinity wearing such potent symbols of womanhood. "Alright." He answered weakly, "I just hope you know what you're doing." When his mother-in-law arrived Mike thought he'd die of embarrassment..even his wife was ashamed. But her big, fat bossy mother wasn't at all shy. She ushered the two of them towards the bedroom with a feverish excitement that infected them all. The bed was covered in a bright red satin. And Mike was scared. Her mother opened her own blouse..revealing a jet black satin and lace bra that barely concealed her massive jutting breasts. His wife undressed to her skimpy bra and pants. And then he too removed his clothes. She had brought three nightdresses. He blushed as she laid the three very pretty nightdresses out for them. HIS was a sheer white silk number, short and transparent. Betty's was pink...and her own was black! The two females watched with a sick excitement as he slid his arms inside the filmy garment. His wife helped him into the short clinging nightdress..and his mother-in-law embraced him. Her thick greedy tongue invaded his mouth. He felt his wife's hands at his waist..and he felt a stiff dildo jab his thigh! He squealed, he wriggled and squirmed. but two sets of female hands gripped and caressed him. He felt himself bundled onto the bed. He was spread-eagled, pinned, mounted...used! His own wife nudged his trembling thighs apart, her mother stuck her tongue deep inside his mouth; greedy hands mauled his breasts, as he whimpered, and winced...and endured! Mike woke up and felt the two female bodies on either side of him. He was sharing a bed with his wife...and with his fat, ugly mother-in-law! His hands found the twin mounds at his chest..he was wearing a clear silk nightdress and a pink SILK TAFFETA bra underneath! He was sweating in his long silk nightdress and the underwired bra pinched his flesh as he moved.. He turned and looked at his wife next to him. She too was wearing silk...a shortie nightie in pale pink. As he watched she snuggled up to her mother who was snoring next to her. Mike stared in horror at the sight of his mother-in-law. She was wearing a black SILK TAFFETA tunic that failed to hide her rolls of fat. His face burned at the memory of the nights lovemaking. Her mother had been determined to humiliate him. She had slapped and cuffed him at will...and she had mounted him in front of his wife! And all the while she had kept up a running commentary to her daughter! "Female clothes are what is needed for men like Mike. And SILK TAFFETA is the material to use. Bed is the place to break a man," she had uttered with total disregard for his feelings, "Use him! Take from him your pleasure....and let him know he is being used!" ...she had lunged into him as though he were a virgin bride, riding his wildly bucking and protesting body like a horse...and with two pairs of hands caressing him through the silk he had accepted it all! At one stage they had both been on top of him...with Betty urging her mother to use and abuse him. Incredibly the memory excited him! Raising his Mother-in Law's arm, which lay heavily across him, he sneaked down the bed...and out of it! Knowing there were no male clothes in the house Mike looked for something that would enable him to feel less feminine.....he found a fairly plain cotton blouse, slax that did not look overtly feminine despite the zip being at the side, and a pair of black low heeled shoes. He had to wear his wife's undies as there was nothing else. He chose a pair of plain white rubber knickers. Mike looked in the mirror, he had scrubbed his face and despite his hair looking a bit too long and full, he was clearly male. That was all that mattered! With one last look at the sleeping women he went downstairs. Half an hour later Betty entered the kitchen bleary eyed, hardly looking at him as she curtly ordered him to make tea...for two....on a tray! "Betty," Mike said ignoring her command, "Betty, we must talk. Now, before your mother gets up." Her eyes widened in surprise. She took in his male attire in one sweeping glance. He saw her lips tighten into a thin mean line. "What do mean...and where did you get these trousers? What do you think you're doing?" Mike flushed as she touched him, But he was not cowed. It occurred to him that most of his weakness over the past few days had been a direct result of his female clothing. When he spoke it was with rising confidence. As a man talks to his wife. "Forget all the nonsense about me wearing .... your clothes. I should never have agreed to it all in the first place. Now, do you want to talk now, here...or should I leave?" He was sure it could all have been sorted out between them ...if only her mother had not chosen that very moment to interfere! Her sneering words made him cringe; "Well, well. He's back in pants! I warned you this would happen Betty. I told you what had to be done. If you had listened to me he would be making tea for us like a good little housewife!" Despite his new strength Mike found it hard to look directly at his Mother-in-Law. Too much of last night remained in his mind. He stood. Better he should leave now. He and Betty could talk later. "SIT DOWN!" She barked. Mike and Betty both stared at the older woman. Her face was white with anger as she approached Mike.. "I SAID SIT!" He sat! She leaned over his chair, her face inches from his. "Now listen to me SHIRLEY!" Mike winced. He looked away. She continued, her voice soft and deadly, "You are not going anywhere. I am probably as strong as you are, Betty is equal to you anyday of the week. If we decide to rip those clothes from you and to give you a hiding you wouldn't be able to stop us...And you think you are going to walk out of here just like that? You silly fool. I'll tell you what you are going to do. You're going to get out of those trousers this instant....or we'll take them off!" Mike fought to keep control. Betty, sensing him weakening, joined in. "Shirley, look at me!" He looked. It was a mistake. He was Mike not Shirley. Her smile infuriated him. "Shirley, that's right, you answered to Shirley...because that's your name. Now, I don't know why you are doing this, it could be a last desperate attempt by your male ego to retain control. But what you must understand is this....I didn't force you to become female, I didn't make you want to be my wife. All I did was to assist you in the direction you clearly wanted to take. I have a feeling, no, more than a feeling. I'm certain that what you really want is to be the female partner...but that you are ashamed of your feelings. And as a result you want us to force you. You WANT us to rip those clothes off you and to dress you in silk knickers and bra. So you can tell yourself that it isn't your fault. And we could do that...as Mummy says, we are perfectly capable of overpowering you....but that is not going to happen. We are going to decide jointly. We are going to decide once and for all who is the boss and who is to be the wife." Mike looked uncertain. This was not what he had expected. "What are you getting at?" He whispered. Betty sighed loudly. " Last night in bed you seemed happy enough!" Her mother chuckled and Mike flushed crimson. How could he deny it. "That isn't the point" He answered lamely. Betty continued. "Tell me you hate wearing my pretty silk frocks." He sighed but remained silent. "Tell me you want me to burn those beautiful SILK TAFFETA nightdresses and buy you a pair of pyjamas." Mike felt a chill settle over him. Her voice softened, "Why did you come back here knowing that mother and I could simply force you to wear skirts?" Mike swallowed. This was impossible to answer. Was there really some sense in what she was saying? Did he have a latent need to be female? That would explain his actions recently. Betty didn't wait for his reply. She stood up;. "I'm going upstairs. I'm going to get your silk clothes, the clothes we both know that you want to wear, the clothes that are right for you, the clothes that are right for us. If I'm wrong...leave!. But if I'm right....and in your heart you know I am...then when I come down stairs, I'll do what you want me to do. I'll take those horrid trousers off you, and I will dress you in a silk frock. I understand that you will find it difficult to dress yourself, so I will treat you like a little girl. I'll undress you and dress you. Then you will put a silk pinny on yourself, and you'll make tea for all of us. Then we will all sit down and discuss your future. Your future as a woman!" Numb from what she had said. Shocked by the way she had turned the argument. Stunned at his lack of protest. He hadn't put up the slightest resistance! A part of his brain was screaming! GET OUT! GET OUT NOW! BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE! But he knew, as they did, it was too late. He WOULD become a woman. He WAS a wife! His wife was totally confident that she was right. "Mother has been very good to us. And she is making you a very good offer now. We all know you ENJOY being a housemaid. Why can't you accept that you'd make a wonderful servant!" He couldn't answer. And her words seemed to hypnotise him. "I have some clothes for you..for my new and very desirable MAID. I'm going to get them and then I will dress you, as a woman. If you disagree..then leave now!" And he was alone. Mike didn't move.. He felt a soft warm wave of passiveness wash over him. He wasn't making the decisions, Betty was! It was easier if she decided. He had nothing to be ashamed of....if this is what his wife wanted. If this is what she thought was right for them, for their marriage, then who was he to object, or feel embarrassed. He was aware of her presence before he saw her. The hair at the nape of his neck prickled. He felt wooden and numb....and yet he felt a tiny surge of excitement. A breathless, dry mouthed desire! Mike looked up. .. she was pale and serious. Her mouth set. Their eyes locked for a second. It was Mike who looked away first. But not before he had seen the frock draped over her arm. It was a favourite of his, dark blue SILK TAFFETA with large white flowers all over the bodice and skirt. He found himself wondering what underskirt she would have for it, perhaps the cream silk one? Betty knelt at his feet. Calmly and without haste she unbuttoned Mike's shirt and removed it. She pulled of his shoes and socks and reached for his belt buckle! With his zip open and his belt unbuckled Mike sat there immobile.....Betty waited. It was a long long moment. They didn't speak. Mike raised his buttocks, just an inch, just enough for her to pull his trousers down! A soft moan escaped his lips. Betty hushed him, cooing to him as though he were a child...and she removed his underpants! Mike bit his lip as she lifted one of his legs..one of his smooth hairless legs....and placed his foot inside the elasticated leg opening of a pair of cream silk knickers! Knickers with suspenders attached. And then the other foot! She tugged and pulled them up his shins, over his dimpled knees, and high along his thighs. "Stand up." She told him calmly. Shakily, legs trembling, Mike dragged himself to his feet. And Betty, his wife, tugged the heavy silk knickers into place! Her knuckle brushed his groin through the shimmery silk material. Lust seared his senses! How could he have forgotten the incredible sensation of the tight clutch of SILK taffeta smooth knickers. How could he have denied the weak-kneed desire that overwhelmed him! Mike shot a glance at his wife. The paleness had gone. She too was flushed and excited. He saw the gleam of lust in her eye....and he sagged against her, willing her to hold him, hold him tight. Her hands cupped the soft girlish flesh at his chest. Her greedy lips swooped to taste the rigid purple nipples. He felt that terrible weak-kneed yearning. With a soft laugh, a catch in her voice, she whispered, "Easy, easy, let's get you looking pretty first." Yes, Mike thought; . He wanted to look pretty for her...for he knew how she reacted when she looked at him this way, and how he could manipulate her when he was pretty! Black stockings now. Sheer seamed nylons...drawn slowly and teasingly up his bare legs. And her shoes, still warm from her wearing them, white high heeled court shoes. He was never the same in heels...and she knew it! He was still coming to terms with the fact that once again she had got him into high heels, once again he was experiencing all those bizarre changes...when mother-in-law came to help! With his brassiere! She raised his arm and slid the silk shoulder strap of the cream coloured bra up over his shoulder. Mike shrugged it into place as she placed the other strap on him. Impatient now, he held the lace covered and underwired cups, against his chest. Betty's mother fastened the three hook and eye fastenings. Mike picked up the slip. Betty stood back. Her eyes raked him. The heat of her eyes turned him to jelly. He reached out for her. "No! not yet." She whispered throatily, " I want you in your petticoat and frock first." Feverishly Mike stepped into the heavy silk slip. It was generously cut and the mass of soft folds caressed his bare thighs tantalisingly. Mike took a couple of steps...so he could increase the movement of the silk skirts around him, wallowing in that strangely vulnerable...open ended feeling. The feeling of being in skirts! Betty draped the SILK TAFFETA frock over his head. Mike pulled its skirts down over his hips smoothing and patting it into place as Betty zipped him into the tight bodice. Then he looked up! They stared at each other for ages. Mike felt swamped by emotion. He knew he desperately wanted Betty to take him in her arms. To kiss him...to cup his breasts, to tightly grip his buttocks through the silky frock! His mother-in-law was very bossy! "Shirley, you look lovely in that frock, don't stain it in the kitchen, make sure and wear an apron!" He bit back a retort. He looked for support from Betty. She shrugged saying, "I'm gasping for a cup of tea darling, why don't you make some tea and then we can all sit down and have a chat." It suddenly occurred to him that wearing a frock gives you nowhere to put your hands. His fingers wandered absently over his bodice, played with his skirts. then with a soft girlish sigh he walked into the kitchen! There were dozens of silk taffeta pinafores and aprons in his mother-in-laws kitchen. Mike tried on several before settling for a very pretty full bibbed apron. It was a blue and white check in shiny silk with a trim of broderie anglais all around the skirt and bib. He slipped the loop of the shoulder straps over his head and expertly reached behind to tie the strings into a neat bow above his buttocks. He tied it very tight, liking the cruel bite of it through his SILK TAFFETA frock. He made tea, placed everything on a large silver tray and walked into the lounge. The two women stopped talking. He was sure he had been the subject of their conversation. Mike sat next to Betty. He poured tea for all them; and noted that his hand shook as he passed mother her cup and saucer! Her fingers brushed his inner palm for a second...he looked at her, saw the glittering look in her eyes that betrayed her excitement.... His eyes slid over her dress. A classically cut flowered print of smooth polyester. He secretly admired the smart rever collar, the full length sleeves with the button cuffs, the matching silk taffeta belt...and the cascade of beautiful permanent sunray pleats of its skirt. Mike experienced an incredible, bizarre rush of desire ! For the dress...or for her? And she saw the look in his eyes! Mike blushed prettily and looked away. Betty stirred her tea. "We have to make certain decisions about your future, Shirley's future. I don't think we can carry on pretending there is no conflict here. It is nice having you back in skirts, but the basic problem remains. You still, at times, think of yourself as a man in skirts. One of the reasons I wanted us here at mother's is so that she could train you. Mother can familiarise you with all things female. To be honest it was her suggestion that you be completely retrained as a little girl, so you could, 'grow up' in effect, as a female. I wasn't too keen on the idea, I thought that if you could be a maid for a few months. I was sure that would be sufficient to subdue your old male, domineering instincts. This morning effectively proved me wrong. So, where do we go from here? Do we allow you to disrupt the whole household everytime you get to feeling guilty about wearing skirts? Or do we make a determined effort to feminise you properly?" No one spoke for several minutes. "He must be given breasts, and he MUST get married..dressed as a bride!" Mike knew it was pointless saying anything. If he had intended fighting them his only chance would have been when he was wearing trousers. Oddly it was comforting to realise that the whole thing was not his responsibility. He sat back into the couch, crossed his legs, and straightened his skirt so that it covered his knee. Under his eye lashes he saw both women admiring his legs. He smiled. Her mother coughed. Then said casually, "My original suggestion, that Mike, Shirley, should be taken right back to childhood and completely re-educated as a female was valid. I would have played the 'mother' to his little girl. As it is, it still might come to that. You, Betty, were more concerned about him being an efficient housemaid....and you also wanted him trained bedwise!...." Mike shot a look at Betty. She went pink and looked away. Her mother continued, "My suggestion is this; get married again! Have a second wedding, a second honeymoon, everything....and start your married life off afresh...with Betty as the husband." Mike frowned. Betty leaned forward, clearly intrigued. "Go on, we're listening." "Well, the problem is not so much that Mike isn't happy in his new role, but that he doesn't accept that its the right role for him. He's constantly fighting his shame at being in skirts. Indeed it's his fondness of female clothing that's at the heart of the problem....if he really hated wearing knickers...and if he could convince himself that he had been tricked, or forced, into wearing them, there would be no problem. But all along, you have convinced him that he has voluntarily become a housemaid! Imagine a woman feeling ashamed of wearing petticoats! Its absurd....and yet here we have, Shirley, supposedly a happy and contented housemaid, having fits of shame simply because she likes wearing what all housewives wear! "Do you see what I'm getting at? Shirley is your husband! He is the man you promised to honour and obey! Until those promises are reversed, and until your roles are reversed, until Mike truly accepts that he is your maid, then he will constantly feel humiliated...even if he does enjoy being the maid!" Betty knew her mother was right. What a fool she had been. She had never thought about how it all effected Mike's natural instincts as a man, as a husband. "So, what you are saying is...Mike and I should re-marry, with Shirley as the bride....and me as the groom! With Shirley promising to honour and obey.. etc." Mother sipped her tea and nodded. Mike tried to make sense of it all. Betty was delighted. It explained everything. "How do we do it. I mean we can't get a preacher can we?." Her mother was calmly confident; "That isn't necessary, all that is required is a simple ceremony in which you both take the vows of wedlock....I have friend who can witness for us, I'll actually conduct the ceremony myself, after all, you are already married in the eyes of the law. All we are doing is changing the vows...and the roles." Betty frowned. "So it's merely symbolic?" "What do you mean MERELY, all ceremonies are basically symbolic! Are you suggesting that if Mike marries you wearing a wedding dress, that if he promises to be your loving wife, and if he promises to honour and obey you, that he will take those vows any less seriously than any other bride?" Betty shook her head. "No. You're absolutely right. Mike will be freely and willingly taking me as his husband. He could never deny, verbally or mentally afterwards, that he was not a maid...my maid!" They stared at him. He didn't move. He did not object. Her mother stood up; "I'll leave you two alone, perhaps you should propose to Shirley. It doesn't do to take a girl for granted!" She was chuckling as she left the room. And Mike could have throttled her. Mike sat still as stone. His eyes glued to his lap. His fingers picked none existent lint from his skirt. When Betty spoke he couldn't meet her eye. "Shirley." Her voice was hypnotic. "Shirley, look at me." He bit his lip. And looked up. "Will you marry me?" She asked, "Will you be my bride?" It was such a simple question. A ridiculous question. They were already married. He tried to speak. To tell her it was silly. But his mouth was dry, his throat thick and constricted....words would not come. He nodded! Betty smiled weakly. "That's not exactly a wildly enthusiastic answer. And I do need an answer. I know how difficult all this is for you....and I'm willing to take all the responsibility...for you, for us...but I can't until you say yes. This has to be your decision. It has to be your free choice. Every single thing we do from now on will be based on the fact that you are willing to marry me.....to be my bride! Now I'm asking you, for the last time....will you marry me?" Mike fought it. He tried desperately to find the words that would deny the whole thing as a stupid ridiculous pantomime. "Yes." He whispered. "Hold me Betty, I'm so frightened." They embraced. And her kiss took all the doubt and fear away. Her hand cupped his breasts. Mike moaned. Her hand slid down, into the SILK taffeta lap, along the SILK TAFFETA thigh, swept up under his skirt and silk slip...and fondled him through his silk knickers! "Oh Shirley, my love!" Betty murmured faintly. Her obvious and feverish excitement fuelled his own. To see her ripping his knickers from his legs, to see her hitching her skirts so she could mount him, to see her glittering eyes....made Mike feel wonderful! Crossing his arms behind her head he thrust his breasts upwards in invitation. Betty kissed his breasts through the flimsy material. Her hands went around him, unzipped his frock, pulled its bodice free from his creamy shoulders. Her eyes widened in lusty approval at the sight of his lace and silk brassiere. Her palms closed over the cups. Her hips jerked furiously against him. As his young and lovely wife slammed her body against him, rocking his frame with the ferocity of her lovemaking, bruising his lips with the violence of her kisses...Mike relaxed luxuriously in her arms. This was what she wanted. This was what they both wanted! And as they writhed and mauled each other Mother-in-law was already preparing for the wedding! Mike had to admit that he enjoyed being pampered. And pamper him they did! getting him ready for the big day was a full time job for both women. Betty spent hours creaming and conditioning his skin. Every single trace of body hair was removed, his skin became pink and soft and girlishly smooth. A rosy glow of female flesh! Her mother shaped, trimmed and varnished his nails on hands and feet! He spent hours in front of the dressing table mirror until Betty was happy about the shade of purple for over his eyes, the colour of the blusher, the shape of his lips, the colour of his lipstick. She removed his eyebrows completely! And they permed his hair,into softly feminine waves! Mike endured figure training, uncomplaining even when his mother-in-law caused him to faint with her exertions. And he discussed very aspect of the making of his wedding gown! Standing on pedestals for long uncomfortable periods as they stuck pins in him,measuring and fitting him for the sumptuous silk gown. Her mother took-over on the morning of the wedding. Betty retired to her own room to get herself ready. Mother-in-law stripped him naked like a child. Bathed him quickly and expertly. Powdered his body and sprayed him all over with a heady perfume. She held out the stiff whalebone corset for him to step into. She laced-him-up using all her strength to give him the hour-glass figure that the gown needed if he was to get into it! The almost solid pre-shaped cups jutted out stiff and provocative from his chest. The cruelly nipped waist and the deeply curving hips were worth the pain and discomfort! Mike ran his palms sensuously over the hard smoothly curved contours...and onto the silk panels over his flat tummy. The stockings were SILK TAFFETA! She slipped long silk pantaloons up his legs. Mike was fascinated by the frilled and beribboned old fashioned bloomer-like garment...and wanted to ask why? Why she was dressing him in such silly frilly undies.. But after the effort she had put into his transformation over the last few days he wasn't sure he should. The moment passed. She held out a mass of petticoats. Six in all. All crisp white SILK TAFFETA that rustled when touched. As layer after layer of heavy petticoat built up around his thighs Mike felt a building excitement of his own. "Sit down, I want to fix your hands before we put the dress on." Mike meekly obeyed. She painted his nails...a bright shiny pink! Mike blew on them as she fussed with pots and tubes of make-up. He watched her as she slipped out of her frock...was she going to make love to him? She shook her head, "Don't worry darling. I'm just protecting my frock." His face had been prepared earlier with foundation and moisturising cream. Now she used a kind of matt powder finish all over his face and cheeks and neck. Mike grimaced. He looked like a doll! Using what looked like a large paint brush she dusted a reddish brown blusher high on his cheeks. Purple and green eye shadow gave his eyes a mysterious sensuous look. She drew in his eyebrows in a high curve above his eye make-up. She applied two coats of mascara. Mike stopped frowning, it was taking shape. "Now, the lips....just purse them slightly...just the hint of a pout, put your bottom lip out a touch more...fine. Don't move!" He watched her face as she carefully outlined the shape of the lips she wanted with a pencil lipliner. Dropping the lipliner she picked the bright pink lipstick they had all agreed on days before. Now she painted his lips thickly within the outline. Mike looked in the mirror, his mouth was rounder, more curved. His lips looked softer, fuller...in a sulky pouting way. They were lips that begged to be kissed! "Press your lips around this tissue.....fine, now one more coat." A second coat of lipstick....and then the layer of shiny wet lip gloss! It was a stunningly pretty woman looking back at him! With a note of real awe and pride in his voice Mike whispered his thanks. Mother-in-law beamed! The wedding dress came in two parts. A heavy silk underfrock covered in tiny pearls, and a lace net overdress that was covered in hundreds of small silk bows. It was a truly stunning wedding outfit. Mike was shaken by its beauty! Every fibre of his being screamed at him to wear it. He shook visibly as she helped him into the underfrock. And when she cast the overlay over his frame he shuddered with bizarre delight! And the full veil captivated him. It added that final touch of female mystery! His hands shook so much she had to pull his lace gloves on herself. "Relax," she urged as she handed Mike a small posy of flowers, "you look very very lovely, and you know it!" Mike privately agreed. He was more than lovely. He was beautiful! He pointed to the shoes. She smiled. Kneeling at his feet she placed the silver high heeled shoes onto his feet. Six inch stilettos that reshaped his legs. Skyscraper heels that forced him to walk like a girl! Mike walked a few paces, the stiff taffeta petticoats made a soft frou-frou; he turned quickly and the petticoats swished and rustled and his skirt swayed with a life of its own. He felt feminine! Totally and utterly female! The four of them; Mike, Betty, her mother, and the witness stood around looking sheepish. There was a kind of subdued hush, an almost palpable embarrassment in the air. Mike found himself hypersensitive to everything. The thud, thud, thud of his heart beat hammered loudly in his ears, the muted sound of passing traffic sounded louder than reality, the lipstick on his mouth felt thick and heavy, his ear-rings felt like lead weights on his ear-lobes, the lace net of his overlay felt rough under his fingers, his jutting breasts bounced and joggled like soft pillows stuck to his chest! Mother-in-Law commenced the ceremony in muffled tones he hardly heard. The witness, a matronly soul in black SILK TAFFETA, moved around stealthily as though she were scared of frightening him by her presence. His answers, practised until he could say them in his sleep, sounded hollow, and mechanical. He promised to honour and obey, to serve her, to be her maid!. And suddenly it was over! "You may kiss the bride!" Somebody told Betty. Betty lifted his veil, with a weak smile she kissed him tenderly. Her mother pushed her to one side; "As the 'bestman', do I get to kiss the bride?" Mike accepted his mother-in-laws kiss....and was frightened by its intensity! The look she gave him before releasing him was hot and hungry. The witness left, Betty went to change. He was alone with her mother. Her hands grabbed him. She kissed him again. Mike sagged into her solid, heavily corsetted frame. He whispered his need in her ear, his face crimsoning at the sound of his own words! She looked at him with a wolfish smile, "You want me to make love to you?" She asked. Mike nodded his face burning; "In my....in my wedding dress." She was grinning now. "You want me to make love to you while you are wearing your wedding gown?" Her eyes were wide in a kind of gleeful delight. Again he nodded. Pushing him against the wall, she bunched up his skirts and petticoats in both hands, "Hold them!" She ordered. Mike held onto his skirts as she thrust her body against him. "We don't have time now but if I came on the honeymoon....then I could lay you down, I could raise these gorgeous skirts, I could remove your pantaloons...and I could ravish you! So why don't you ask if I can come along?" Mike, weak with desire, shook his head, but he knew he would agree. He slipped from her grasp, he tried to compose himself. Betty came in the room. "Shirley, you must hurry up and change, we're leaving in a minute!" He knew his face and ears were red. He looked at her mother. "Betty, Shirley has asked if I can accompany you on the honeymoon. I told him it wasn't possible, but he said I had done so much, you know, getting him ready and everything, he thinks I deserve it. I said it was up to you!" Betty smiled and took his hands in hers, "Why darling, what a lovely thought. You're quite right. I would have suggested it myself but I didn't think for one moment you would agree. This is a wonderful start to our marriage. Why don't you get changed, in fact why don't you let mother change you. Then we can all leave together." Her mother took his hand in hers. And he was led to the bedroom! She stripped him quickly and expertly. He was pleased when she packed the wedding gown and underskirts in a case....to take on the honeymoon! He stared at his 'going away' outfit. A pink linen suit, with a pencil skirt. He stepped into the tailored white full slip and smoothed it down. Then he stepped into the skirt of the suit. His mother-in-law slapped his hands away; "I'm supposed to be dressing you." Her hands wandered over his breasts, squeezing him gently through the nylon slip. Mike zipped himself up at the side of the skirt and fastened the single button. She helped him into the top. It had four large white buttons and was nipped severely at the waist. He put on white high heeled court shoes with a three inch heel, and white nylon gloves. Mother-in-law placed a white pill-box hat onto his wavy hair and pinned it in place with a long hat pin. The hat had a tiny veil, for which he was very grateful, as he was still afraid of being seen in public dressed as a woman. The veil hid his face and softened his features. Handing him a small white clutch handbag she said, "Ready, Shirley?" He nodded. Feeling weak and light headed he followed her downstairs. The hotel room was fantastic. Mike looked around. It was the bridal suite. All pink and gold. The two women undressed! He was unnerved by their casual attitude. Betty changed into black SILK TAFFETA pyjamas, her mother wore only her white corset. With mounting excitement Mike unbuttoned his top and stepped out of his skirt. Her mother unpacked one of her cases....she laid out a maids uniform. A silk maids uniform! She saw him staring and said, "Yes, your training continues even here....when we're not in bed...you'll wear silk, in fact for tonight, you can wear silk in bed. Try this bra and pantie set!" Curious and excited by the sight of the silk clothing, Mike examined the clear silk bra, and the silk knickers. They look just like baby panties he thought as he stripped and donned the silk. It gave him a shivery feeling, but it was not unpleasant. Betty fondled him through the clear silk knickers, "I want him in a skirt mother, do you have a silk one?" Mike was handed a shiny silk slip, a full slip in the same clear silk, with a silk frill at its hem! Mike slipped it over his head, finding it difficult to pull the silk across his skin. He felt the burning stares of the two women. He walked to the bed, unbidden....and lay on his back. Betty and her mother smiled at each other. For a long moment they simply stared down at him. He was scared by the way they examined his feminised body. When they joined him on the bed, when they rudely separated his thighs, when Betty mounted him....he put up not the slightest resistance! Mike accepted his wife's hungry kisses passively....but watched with horror as Betty's mother slid her massive thigh across his chest! With her knees on either side of his body...she looked down at him. Her eyes glittered excitedly. "I own you!" She whispered thickly. "Yes. Yes...you own me. I'm yours." He answered licking his painted lips. Betty spoke for the first time. "What is your name?" Mike sighed. He could smell their excitement. "My name is Betty. I am your maid!"