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I was sitting in a booth at a Country Western Bar that I was visiting for the first time. I was there about two hours watching the place fill up and waiting for the band to come back from break. I was downing my third beer and waiting to get up the nerve to ask one of the girls to dance. I had no one in particular in mind, but the place was full and there were plenty of women to choose from.

Just as I finished my beer, the waitress came over and placed another one on the table. She said it was complements of the customer sitting at the bar. I could hardly see the bar area because my view was blocked by all the customers. I just waved in that general direction, a friendly salute and started to drink the beer. Many images were going through my mind, wondering who bought me the beer. As I was looking down at my glass, I sensed that someone was standing next to my booth and I quickly looked up.

She was amazing. She stood at least 6’2″ and had gorgeous long blonde hair. Her stature was immense. She was at least 200lbs with broad shoulders and very large breasts. She had on a cowboy hat, overalls and snake skin boots with steel toes and spurs. I just stared at her completely speechless. She finally said, “Well, aren’t you going to invite me to join you?” I stuttered, “Yes, of course.”

She sat down on the same side I was on and slid all the way over, pressing me into the wall. She put her arm around me and gave me a firm squeeze. I felt my heart pounding and my groin coming to life as she looked me in the eye. She said, “I’m the Sheriff around here. How would you like to be my deputy?” I just nodded my head and felt a gulp in my throat. This was not a woman who took no for an answer and I was totally confused by her aggressive tactics.

Before I knew it, she grabbed me by the back of the neck and pulled me toward her. She opened my mouth with her tongue and stuck it half-way down my throat. Her other arm reached into my crotch and started squeezing my balls. I felt completely helpless. I was being crushed by an amazon and was loving every second of it. We both began to breath heavily and were getting very turned on.

After what seemed like eternity, she removed her tongue from my mouth and said, “Let’s go back to my place for a little bull riding.” I couldn’t believe what I heard, but awkwardly smiled and said, “That sounds like a great idea, lets go.”

She grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the booth without any effort. She put her arm around my waist tightly and said, “You’re coming with me.” I was very embarrassed. I felt like everyone in the bar was staring at me as I was being dragged down the aisle by a large cowgirl and trying to cover up the large bulge in my pants.

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I am a cross-dresser who has for years enjoyed looking and acting like a woman. Lulu, my wife, started to enjoy this side of me once she discovered how easily she could dominate me. She likes to expose my transvestism to unsuspecting souls.

At first it was something simple like holding panties up to my waist while shopping for lingerie. But it has progressed to her telling me to buy specific items like a pink bra, a red garter belt or a black teddy. She also insists that I tell the sails clerk that the items are for me. I will be severely punished if I don’t comply, so when we go into the lingerie department and asked what we’re looking for, I will answer, “A pink bra. I wear a 36A.” It never fails to raise eyebrows. I love the embarrassment of it all.

My wife loves to embarrass me outdoors too. We will go to a public tennis court with me dressed in a white shirt and shorts with bright pink panties and a bra that will clearly show through underneath. It never fails to provoke stares. I have also gone to the tennis courts wearing a tennis dress with full makeup and a blonde wig. I’m quite convincing when dressed as a girl, so this doesn’t bother my game. But what does bother it is the fact that I’m also wearing tight nipple clamps and have a buttplug in place.

Lulu thinks I should experience womanly feelings and adventures as much as possible. So in bed I must be ready to accept her strap-on dildo and open my mouth so she can feed me my semen when I come. I also make regular visits to a beauty saloon for wig styling and facials.

A real surprise came a few weeks ago. Our tenth anniversary was fast approaching, and we had talked about exchanging vows again. We had arranged to hire a minister in a small chapel and have another couple, our best friends, stand up for us. This would be on a Wednesday night, and we would take off the rest of the week for a second honeymoon.

I should have known nothing is as expected when Lulu is involved.

She called me at work and told me to meet her at a bridal shop later on so we could get fitted. I thought she meant that I would be renting a tux. But when I arrived at the shop she was inside talking to the owner. They gave me a strange smile when I walked in. The owner looked at me and said, “Yes, I have something will fit him perfectly.”

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The phone rang, and Jennifer jumped. Darlene, her roommate, gave her an annoyed look and picked up the phone. “Hello? Yeah, this is Darlene. Huh? Oh, sure…I have it right here.” Flashing Jennifer another annoyed look, she picked up her math assignment sheet and started to read an assignment from it.

Jenny hugged her pillow close to her, listening to the phone conversation and trying to take refuge in its relative normalcy. It wasn’t him. Thank god it wasn’t him. She pressed her cheek into the soft fabric of the pillow, and held it tightly. Her eyes stared to the side, her mind fighting once again to deny what had happened to her before. It seemed like a dream now, but Jennifer knew it had not been a dream. She could not wake up from this nightmare.

She heard the click as Darlene hung up, and heard her roommate stand. She didn’t look, but she knew the expression that was on Darlene’s face; it was Darlene’s exasperation look, with her eyebrows jagged and her lips pursed together tightly. Jennifer had been seeing Darlene’s exasperation look quite a bit lately.

“You want to tell me what the hell is going on, Jennifer?” Darlene snapped. “I can see being startled by the phone, once, maybe twice, but EVERY FUCKING TIME? What’s gotten into you? You’re so jumpy lately… and you won’t tell me why! What’s wrong, Jennifer?”

Jennifer was silent for a moment. Once again, she was tempted to just blurt out the whole story, about Mark, about his powers, what he had done to her. And once again, she stopped herself. For one, she didn’t want to draw anyone into this beside herself. And for another…who would believe her? Jenny barely believed it herself.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she mumbled.

“What?!? The hell, nothing’s wrong! You’ve completely weirded out on me, Jen! You stay in the room all day, moping around, staring into space. You won’t answer the phone anymore, and it seems to scare you to death whenever it rings…you won’t talk to anyone, you don’t go out anymore…you can’t tell me nothing’s wrong. Give me some credit, Jennifer!”

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This is a story that is difficult for me to tell; but, Cindy has told me that if I didn’t tell it she was going to really do some damage to me. It began with our being introduced by a mutual friend. I had told him in a conversation we were having that I thought these stories of women beating men in arm wrestling, wrestling and boxing were hog wash. He had told me that he knew a woman who could make a believer out of me. Thus the meeting with Cindy.

She was beautiful and she certainly doesn’t look like one would think a strong woman would look like. She started out when we shook hands as our friend, I’ll call him Bill, introduced us. She began to increase the pressure of her grip as she smiled and winked sweetly and said, “I hear that you don’t think a woman can beat you at arm wrestling, wrestling and boxing. Are you already having some second thoughts ? I’m going to take your ego apart and put it back together like I think it should be. I’m going to really put some power into this little demonstration, not too much because I don’t want to break anything, yet.” And with that she did and the next thing I knew I was on my knees looking up into her laughing face. She let my hand go and walked over to the dinning room table. Cindy whistled at me and with the come hither gesture with her finger she motioned me to come over to her. I walked over and sat down where she pointed. “OK, big boy let’s start the lesson. We’ll go left handed first so your little right hand can recover some. Bill will count to three and start us off. My left hand is my weakest, but I promise you it will be way too strong for you.”

She was right. Cindy let me give it everything I could as she taunted me about being too weak for her. Then she slowly began to lower my arm down to the table. “I could have done that in about two or three seconds, but I wanted you to see that it wasn’t luck, or technique but simply that I’m much stronger than you are. Reach over here and I’ll let you feel what a solid arm muscle feels like.” I reached over and her arm was as hard as steel, and that was her “weak” arm. As if reading my mind Cindy popped up her right arm and said, “Now feel this baby.” It was larger and just as hard and I was totally demoralized. I knew this woman was just too much for me; but my male ego would not let me say so. We arm wrestled right-handed with the same results. The difference was before Cindy put my arm all the way down she increased the pressure of her grip and said, “Let’s hear you beg me to not make pulp out of your hand and to please put your arm down.”

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“He’s obsessed with boobs,” complained Maria, a new recruit to Mistress Jennifer’s cadre of dominant feminizers of hapless men. “My husband Bob just stares at any woman with a full figure–the fuller the better.”

It was easy to see why this disturbed her. Maria, though extremely attractive, was a petite, small-boned woman who was far from buxom. I was privy to this conversation, along with Teasing Tammy, because Jennifer, Maria, and Tammy’s sister and dominatrix, Susan, intended to use us to bring the unsuspecting Bob into a trap–a trap that would deprive him of his manliness forever, it seemed.

Tammy, though only 16, had been designed by Susan and Jennifer as the ultimate cock-tease, with full 35 C breasts. Although my own alternate persona, Sissy Dani, was generally less generously endowed, for this adventure I was also padded out to Playmate-like dimensions.

We were sent out to meet Bob at one of his favorite hangouts, a bar that specialized in attracting men who “appreciated” bosomy types. I was dressed for “bear”–a skin-tight white satin cocktail dress that played up my bogus breasts with a very short skirt, five-inch white satin heels, and dramatic make-up. Tammy had also been dressed to look older: She wore a black leather outfit, also extremely tight and short, with six-inch heels and equally dramatic make-up.

Our instructions (enforced by the post-hypnotic suggestions that created our submissive personalities) were to approach Bob, get him to buy us drinks, and then get him back to Jennifer’s house for his own transformation.

Within minutes after we arrived, I spotted Bob at the bar. “Well, hello there,” I cooed as I approached him, playing up my charms as much as I could.

“Hello yourself, little lady,” Bob replied, smiling. He looked me up and down, pausing noticeably (as expected) at my bust line. “And who’s this little heartbreaker?” he asked, as Tammy sidled up to his other side.

“That’s my sister, Tammy,” I replied. “I’m Dani.”

He put his arms around our waists, in the process letting his hands graze our “boobs.” I suggested he buy us a round of drinks. He made the order, and I told him and Tammy to find a quiet table and I would bring the drinks when they were ready. Bob readily agreed, seeing a chance, I suppose, to make a little time with the enticing Tammy while alone.

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