DILDO DOMINATION! He sat up in her huge double bed and watched the fat grey-haired matron approach. As her eyes swept over his body he blushed a deep crimson. He was wearing a powder blue nightdress made of sheer silk and her eyes glittered with lust at the sight of small breasts. She sat on the bed and it creaked and groaned under her weight. "You've been wonderful darling. You've worn a nightdress..you've dressed like a woman, and you've made love like a woman." Her massive breasts heaved with excitement as she slid one huge fat thigh over his body. When her knees straddled his face he thought he knew what she wanted. He kissed her inner thigh as she fumbled with the fastening of her corset. "Now I ask just one more thing from you. This." He blinked as she pulled it free from her crotch. It was a dildo! A monstrous, black, rubber penis! "No..oh no!" He whispered. "YES!" She told him harshly, "You WILL! Open your mouth!" He stared at her, and shok his head. His eyes glued to this terrible sight. She cuffed him smartly. "DO IT!" And he obeyed! He moaned softly, girlishly, and parted his soft pink lips. She slid the thick rubber dildo into his mouth. DEEP! He almost gagged as she whispered, "Taste it. SUCK it. Get it nice and wet!" And as he slobbered over her she laughed. "Later you will join me in the garden..in your pretty bra and knickers..and I'll USE this on YOU! It will be quite exciting...shagging you in the open air!" And then she left him! He got out of bed in a complete dither! She had bought him a new fifties-style bra. He stared white-faced at the illustration on the box. A woman wearing a cone-shaped bra. It's jutting cups and high sidebands seemed to belong to a bygone age. And she had bought this for HIM! He opened the flat square box with a hollow lump in his tummy. The white bra looked harmless nestling in its soft tissue. And yet he held it by its shimmering satin shoulder straps as though it were a bomb. He slipped out of his nightdress and seated himself in front of the dressing table mirror. He opened the flattened cups, he felt the stiff pre-shaped cups in his palms. And he slid goose-fleshed arms inside shiny smooth shoulder straps that slid so easily and naturally up his arms. The stiff pointed cups seemed to grab the loose flesh at his chest as he reached behind him to fasten the three hook and eyes that held the bra together. Suddenly he looked up... and the vision that stared back took his breath away. It was an old fashioned 'Whirlpool' bra of white poplin. Pre-shaped and cunningly padded, it gave him the bosom he sadly lacked. A thrusting, jutting, arrogant bust! He was bizarrely thrilled with the result...and wondered what else she would expect him to wear with this incredible bra! He took a good long look at her wardrobe of underwear. White frilly knickers he put to one side. Then a stiff paper nylon petticoat. Then he saw the dress. Bright yellow stripes over a white background. Cool silk taffeta! Silk that would rustle and swish! He held up the wide collared and short sleeved dress against himself and stood before the mirror. It really was short, but it was very sexy!. He hesitated only for a moment. Stepping gingerly inside the snow white knickers he tugged them up his legs. The full waist silk knickers nestled tightly into his crotch. And a wicked shiver ran through him. Then he placed one smooth and hairless leg inside the elasticated waistband of the stiff underskirt. The paper nylon rustled seductively. It stuck out like a ballerina's tutu! The dress was button through, the white satin buttons contrasting nicely with the canary yellow stripes. He slid his arms into the sleeveless dress and buttoned himself into it. It was wide collared and neatly tailored. He fastened the thin white leather belt as tight about his waist as it would go. Checking his appearance in the mirror he knew something was missing, something about the way the dress hung, the way he stood. He frowned...then his eye caught sight of a pair of Martha's shoes. White court shoes with a three inch heel. He tried one of the court shoes on. It fitted like a glove! He stood and placed the second shoe on. John walked a few paces, it was not as difficult as he had imagined. Catching sight of himself in the full length mirror he smiled. The high heels made a tremendous difference, they seemed to reshape his legs, flatten his tummy, widen his hips. The skirt hung nicely and with his new stance and the cone shaped bra, his chest jutted enticingly from under the silk dress. He could not resist cupping them through the cool silk of the dress. The soft bulges felt wonderful in his palms! He could feel his nipples harden! John shook his head in wonder. He stepped outside into the garden and walked towards Martha. "What do you think?" He asked with a shy smile. "Am I pretty?" Martha's jaw dropped, she gaped in shock. And John stepped back as he saw the bright gleam of lust in her eye. "Martha darling, I've only just got dressed." He protested weakly as she took him in her strong muscular arms. Silencing his protests with a passionate kiss Martha shoved her hand under his silk skirt and crudely groped him. Her other hand found one breast. John sighed as she reached for the top button of his dress. "Shouldn't we go inside?" He said thickly. Martha unbuttoned the top of the dress and gazed in wonder at his bra. She cupped his tiny bosom squeezing him gently. Her eyes were glazed, she didn't hear him. She unbuckled his belt and continued undoing his buttons. John felt his knees go weak. The way she looked at his body when she opened his dress. Her slack jawed lust thrilled and frightened him. He tried to close the dress saying, "Martha, let's go inside please..." Martha slapped his hands away impatiently. "Be still!" She hissed. She was removing her knickers from under her own short skirt. He saw the jutting dildo! It stuck out from between her massive thighs with menacing bluntness. John looked around nervously. She had a large garden with its own tennis court but he knew that they were visible from other houses. Now she reached under his underskirt to tug at his panties. "Please Martha," He begged, "take me inside. We'll be seen! Please!" Martha ignored him, she tugged his panties down over his buttocks, they held for a second on his thighs, then slithered down his legs to lie at his ankles. As he opened his mouth to protest she pulled him to her, her mouth covered his. He felt her tongue invade his mouth, her thighs gripped him and her hips began to jerk her lower body against him. She was wearing a girdle and he could feel its hard edge rubbing painfully into his flesh as her urgent, almost frantic thrusts slammed her groin into his. And then she entered him. The thick rubber penis invaded his body. He felt a rich exquisite penetration. And he gasped and squealed and moaned! But he was also terrified, of exposure, of falling down! He was wearing high heels and found it hard to hold onto her and keep his balance. He stared wildly over her shoulder looking for spectators. Martha tore her mouth from his and, after one long look at his bra, she dipped her fingers into the shoulders straps and exposed his tiny breasts. Her lips found his nipples...and he could only stare as she nuzzled him greedily. He endured her frenzied lust uncomplainingly for what seemed like hours. Martha's panting, her grunts of animalistic pleasure, shocked and embarrassed him. When she finally released him he wasted no time. Tugging his knickers into place he hurried away to dress and compose himself. He ran to the bedroom and ripped everything off. The bra, the underskirt, the knickers and the dress. He kicked the high heels away. Siting on her bed he tried to calm himself. How humiliating it had been! He had wanted her too...but not like that! He had been used! She simply took her pleasure from him and discarded him. He heard her shout. She wanted him downstairs. What should he wear? He was in no mood for more sex! But he did not want a fight either. With a shrug he pulled on a simple housecoat. It was made of nylon, blue with tiny yellow flowers as decoration. He shoved his arms into the huge leg o' mutton sleeves. After buttoning it all the way down he pulled on a pair of white satin knickers and then walked slowly to the lounge. Martha looked determined rather than embarrassed. She examined his housecoat with a frown. "What are you wearing underneath?" She demanded to know. John blushed. "Nothing really." He answered. Her words were like a whip. "Open it! NOW!" They stared at each other. But the time when he could successfully challenge her had long since passed. He unbuttoned the top button. His face grew warm. One by one he opened the buttons of the housecoat. Tears glistened in his eyes as she smiled at him. When they were open he simply stood in front of her. Martha walked up to him, she pulled the housecoat wide open. Her eyes widened as she saw the shiny lace trimmed knickers. Her voice was ragged with lust. "Go upstairs. Wear your prettiest nightie, I'll be up in a minute." John could have screamed, his own body had betrayed him! He pulled his coat closed and practically ran from the room. John stood panting in the middle of the bedroom. The truth was he DID want her. And he hated himself for doing so. The housecoat fell to the carpet as he ran his hands over the rows of nightdresses. A shiny silk emerald green creation caught his eye. Unhooking it from its hanger he examined it carefully. It was floor length and full skirted. The neckline was frilled and elasticated. It was sleeveless. He liked the bright green ribbon that was threaded through the bodice. It could be worn off the shoulder and the frilly neckline would hide his lack of a bosom. John lifted its skirt, it was doubly skirted, the outer layer being thinner than the lining. He raised its flowing skirts over his head and shoulders. He placed his arms inside the sleeves. The skirts fell swirling to the floor. John gasped with unconcealed delight. It felt heavenly, its mass of skirts seemed to envelope him, with every step he was wrapped in layers of silk that caressed his bare thighs and knees. He experimented shamelessly with the neckline, pulling it this way and that until he was satisfied that he looked as sexy as possible. The satin ribbon he tied into a large bow in the centre of the neckline. Standing before the full length mirror he wondered what he could do with his hair. Sorry now that he had worn it in such a mannish fashion, he tried to brush it into a looser, more feminine style. Martha entered. They stared at each other for a long time. He ached for her arms to hold him. Why didn't she take him in her arms? Her words poured cold water over his plans. "You look like a man in a nightie! No more nonsense. I want you as a....I want a woman, I want a wife!" The words hung in the air. So here it was, in the open. She continued relentlessly. "You will be my wife, you'll be my bloody maid if that's what I want. Look at you, did I make you wear that frilly nightie?" John shook his head. Tears, hot angry tears, rolled down his cheeks. "No, you chose it, you want to be a bloody woman but you haven't the courage to admit it. You want to pretend it's what I want. You want to be raped, so you can say it isn't your fault. well that's not good enough. Come here!" John obeyed instinctively. He stood meek and trembling in front of her. "You want to wear my nighties, yes?" He nodded. "I want to hear you say it." "Yes, I like wearing, nighties. I want to be your wife!"