Hi, I'm Andrew; at least I was Andrew full time until about a month ago. I have always been fascinated by lingerie: its feel, its appearance, how it just makes a body look that much more sexy. Like most curious types I started young (at sixteen, so not all that young), swiping what I could from my sisters or cousins when I could and squirreling my prizes away until I could find time for them. I will always remember the first time I put a pair of lace panties on; my erection was instantaneous! I knew that this was wrong, but it felt oh, so right; but with college and career that feeling was put away for some time.
About six weeks ago, my wife was retiring some clothes. I came home to a pile of lace and silk lingerie, high heels, a few skirts, long and short (no-brainer, I lingered on the short ones), and a few blouses. It was then a stirring began as I realized that while I was slightly taller than my wife, we were roughly the same size, with me being a bit bigger. I smiled and said in an over the top southern belle accent, "But I haven't a thing to wear." I got a kiss for my joke and was asked to bag them up as she was running late for a business dinner.
No sooner had the door clicked closed, the old feelings rushed back in, and I surrendered to them in no time at all. I stripped in record time, and selected a pair of purple lace panties and matching bra. They fit perfectly, and I realized that these old clothes were from what she called her "fat collection," but she was far from it. I looked in the mirror and was not surprised to see that same reaction from all those years ago. The feeling didn't last long as I was unable to keep my hands off myself and came within minutes. I decided that I could keep a few of these items, and stash them in my foot locker. I did so, and the pile was reduced by well over a third. I selected lace and silk lingerie of all colors, two skirts, one short, one very short thanks to my added height, a pair of black high heels that had to be at least five inches, a pair of red heels that were a little shorter, and two silk blouses.
Two weeks later, I finally came upon some free time to put on a few more of my stolen pleasure treasures. I raided my foot locker, stripped again, and took my selections to the bedroom. This time I had selected a red silk camisole and matching panties. The camisole came just past my swelling nether regions. I also went with the longer of the two skirts over the panties, and a white silk blouse. I thought I looked pretty good, but to even come close to passing I would need to lose my body hair, learn how to apply make up, and get a wig, as I am required to keep short hair for work.
A click shortened my fantasy, and snapped me back to reality; the front door has just re-closed.
I was in a panic as I heard heels clicking closer to the bedroom, and I realized why; her purse was sitting on the nightstand. A logical mind would have just handed her the purse through a cracked door and dodged the bullet, but my mind was frozen, like my rigid member, and this dawned on me too late as she walked in.
"Please just tell me you aren't gay, or sleeping with a guy behind my back too," she said with a flat expression.
"No, no, lord no. I am sorry. I will change out of this and throw it away, and this will never happen again."
"And my clothes in your foot locker? I know you are trusting but a lock never hurt." This time there was the faintest hint of a smile. "I know you are a Type-A type, as I have seen you at work, and that was part of my attraction to you, but seeing this side is something new -- and not unattractive -- with some work. Here are the ground rules: 1) You are not to refer to yourself by your name at any time when you are dressed. I think I will call you Andrea. 2) I run the show; that means I run Andrea. 3) Any violation of these rules and this goes on my facebook page." She showed me a picture on her camera that she must have taken while I was in brain lock.
"Agreed, Andrea?"
"Um, okay, sure." When I was actually unsure of what doors I had opened.
"Ma'am."
"Say again?"
She closed the distance and in one swift motion had lifted the skirt and slapped my ass hard. "Ma'am. You will call me ma'am, Andrea. You will begin or end each sentence with that address. Understand, Andrea?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good girl. Sadly, I have to be at this meeting, and I am already late. You are to shower and clean yourself thoroughly. While in there you will shave and I have some Veet in there to use on the rest of your body hair until it's all gone, except for a small patch around your clitty. Understand?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"You will then put that outfit back on with the red heels, and wait for my return. Where I will begin introducing Andrea to other aspects of living life on this side of the line. See you soon, Andrea." She smirked and blew a kiss. "Oh, and don't jerk off, no orgasms for you as I control those for Andrea too."
I was still in a sort of brain lock, but I knew I had to get busy. That photo could ruin my career, and to be honest part of me was looking forward to the education that was about to be provided to me. Time to get in the shower.
To be continued (if there is enough interest)
