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Subject: {ASSM} Scenes, by Vickie Tern, 4/17  TG Femdom F/m m/M F/M etc
Date: Mon,  1 Oct 2001 13:10:04 -0400
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Scenes, by Vickie Tern, 4/17  TG Femdom F/m m/M F/M etc

This story includes explicit sex scenes.  Married sex, mostly, gentle, 
loving, and appreciative, mostly.  If by reason of age, 
temperament, or moral principle you shouldn't or don't want 
to read about such things, think hard what to do about it, 
and you'll figure it out I'm sure.








                  Scenes from a Marriage
                      by Vickie Tern
                 
                    (vickietern@aol.com)   




                               4.

When Carol got home from work she was pleased to find Carl asleep
on the couch, the table set and their dinner's fixings laid out in
the kitchen awaiting her arrival for last minute cooking.  That
sweetie!  He looks so peaceful, she thought as she went up to his
computer room to look for clues about his behavior this morning. 
Was he logging onto network porn channels, then fantasying?  It
occurred to her that it was Spring.  Were her young man's thoughts
lightly turning to thoughts of other women, was that what he'd been
doing?  

She wasn't worried, he was absolutely faithful to her, he'd never
risk his marriage by desiring another woman, she knew that.  But
that could also be why he was using himself as a substitute for
other women!  Looking at another "woman's" crotch and boobs in the
mirror!  Trying to be a woman and then lust after her!  His red
face confessed some kind of shameful craving.  Hers was the only
mons veneris he'd seen since their engagement, she was sure of
that.  She couldn't really blame him for wanting to sneak a peek at
another, even if only his own facsimile of one. 

Unless it wasn't just deprivation but envy?  He really did want a
crotch of his own like that, but he was ashamed to say so?

There lying across his keyboard where he'd abandoned it was the
swimsuit Sports Illustrated.  It was open to a girl wearing a
crimson charmeuse print Bikini, crouching back on her heels in an
unlikely position, certainly uncomfortable, supplementing what
little lift her Bikini top provided by supporting both of her heavy
breasts by the palms of her hands.  Carl's hand gesture under his
own tits -- if that's what they were -- this morning. The girl had
twisted her body and was turning her head to confront the camera
with a welcoming smile.  Carl's pose.  Her vagina crease was fully
exposed, as Carl's would have been if he'd had one and could have
opened his legs, though hers was covered by her thin Bikini bottom. 
Just barely covered, Carol saw.  Her pussy hair on either side of
it was trimmed and shaved to project smooth nudity.  

Why is it that men think women who bend like pretzels are sexy?
Carol wondered.  A mystery.  Still, that's what it may be all
about, I bet.  My hubby hankers after strange flesh, but he wants
to remain true to me, so he wants to be a woman so he can settle
for his own flesh.  That is so dear, if that's what it is!  Carol
felt she should reward him for his ingenuity, for his desire to
remain faithful to her at all costs.  

But what if it wasn't an errant lecherous impulse?  What if it
really was envy?  What if he simply wants to be a girl?  Should she
encourage him?  She didn't know.

She idly turned other pages of the Swimsuit issue.  Maillots are
out this year, she noticed idly, unless they're draped like this
one.  Just as well, mine's stretched out and unwearable, I won't
replace it.  God, look at the postage stamps that girl's wearing? 
Pasties?  She can't be sixteen!  No girl fully grown and that
well-endowed is ever that self-supporting!  Are they real?

She flipped on, now assessing the different models and their
bathing attire woman to woman.  These women are really as thin as
Carl, she thought, but being women has made them softer, smoother,
rounder.  A little fatty tissue under the skin goes a long way,
especially in the breast and the bum.  That's estrogen doing its
thing.  Does he really want to look like that?  Does he really
think he resembles them?  If he did, would I love him as much?  It
would feel strange, but I'm sure I would.  It isn't his manliness
I admire, God knows, he's never really been manly, not his body
anyhow.  It's that he's so gentle, so sweet!  So ... feminine, 
so precious.  So lovable.

A peculiar thought suddenly struck her.  Can it be that when he's
imagining he's a girl like these girls, when he's wishing that he
was one of these girls, he has sex with himself?  Does he
masturbate?  Look at these women and imagine he's one of them and
masturbate?  That he's true to me only in his fashion, that he
freely takes his pleasure with these girls and with himself?  That
he feels excited when he's being one of them?  The way I do
sometimes when I remember the big guys I used to date?  Only he
works his fantasy off with his hand, and I work mine off on top
of his prick?  

She looked about.  Sure enough, in his desk-side waste paper basket
she saw tufts of kleenex with pale crusts on them.  Something
like dried phlegm.  But he'd had no nose colds nor bronchitis, his
breathing was clear -- she'd been watching it closely since his
pneumonia and she was sure of it.  So this was the residue of some
kind of affair he'd been having with one of these swimsuit-clad
women.  Or all of them, the whole harem.  Or with himself,
imagining himself to be one of them?

With his figure? 

She'd now settled into that thought.  She'd never thought of Carl
quite that way.  As her girlfriend sometimes, yes, but not with a girl's
body, a girl's breasts, hips, waist, soft curves, everything.  He
does have the makings, she saw now.  He's practically anorexic! 
He needs a lot more rounding out, of course, especially up top, but
he does look a lot like me in my early teens before my hormones
kicked in.   When they finally did kick in, Carol mused further. 
I loved that yellow Jantzen swimsuit I had then, with the push-up
bra inserts that made me look bigger than I was!  It was when I
wore that swimsuit that the boys finally decided to look at me! 
It's so hard on a girl to be late-blooming!  

She smiled slightly as her imagination clothed a late-blooming Carl
in that tight yellow one-piece with its built-in push-up bra.  Carl
as a bathing beauty attractive to boys!  Does he imagine he can
look like that?  Carol couldn't decide if he looked ridiculous or
cute!  Would he want boys to look at him?  I better not think about
that, she thought.  Not right now.

Whatever's going on here, she concluded, Carl has a secret life and
secret yearnings he's ashamed to tell me.  I want him to have
whatever he wants.  But he'll never tell me something like this! 
What to do?  

She decided to take the problem to Maddy.  Maddy knew a lot about
these things, she'd suggest something.  Carl was still sleeping. 
It was still afternoon.  Dinner could be ready in ten minutes. 
There was plenty of time, and she'd noticed that Maddy was home
early too, her car already in her driveway.  Carol decided to pop
by for a talk.

In the end, Maddy certainly did suggest something.  Many things. 
They talked a long while.  Maddy filled and re-filled Carol's wine
glass.   

First she listened in silence, patiently, as her friend talked it
all out.  Various explanations offered themselves as Carol
described the morning's event and then her afternoon's discoveries,
and Maddy considered each in turn.  

Most obviously, she thought, Carl is bored and looking for novelty. 
Maybe his illness has started him looking for a new life better
suited to some secret self, some girl self maybe.  Some girl self
dating back to his high school days, maybe?  When he was one of 
the girls yet not one of them?  He now wants to close that gap?

Carol seemed to think so, but Maddy doubted it.  He's been sick,
disoriented, and that may be all it is, just random behavior, she
thought.  Random sexual behavior, of course, because he's hard up,
he must be randy as a goat by now.  At that Maddy had to smile.  If
Carol insists on total abstinence until Carl's completely well,
what can she expect?  Maddy knew that men do strange things when
they aren't allowed sexual release, and can be made to do even
stranger things.  She often controlled her own men by their pent-up
eroticism, their desire to cum at all costs.  Carl hasn't gotten
laid for what now, months?  Some men would think a phone book was
sexually provocative if they'd been through that kind of
deprivation.  A "Sports Illustrated" bathing beauty issue would
blow their minds.  Not for nothing do they call that issue
"Spurts Illustrated!"  Men do fetishize women's bodies, after all
-- clothing, hair, everything that makes a woman distinctively
feminine.  Why shouldn't Carl's mirror provide him with a fetish
object ready to hand, his own feminized body?  

That was the most likely explanation.  Not too interesting, she
decided, but it has possibilities.  It's something to build on,
anyway.  Because Carol is my friend, and Carol may not know it, but
she's bored, she wants to liven up her life.  Look  how she leaps
to the notion that Carl wants to be a girl!  She's craving perverse
excitement from somewhere!  And no wonder!  They're soooo vanilla,
that couple!  

Well, wherever it may be Carl wants to go, he can be led to
wherever Carol wants him to go, I'm sure of that, Maddy said to
herself.  We'll just have to find out what Carol wants.

She resumed her speculations.  Would Carl agree to get involved
with men?  Is he gay?  No, Maddy was thinking as Carol talked, not
gay, except maybe with himself when he jerks off.  All guys are gay
when they have sex with themselves, but they never think of it that
way!  Like the rest of them he probably tries to hide his
homoeroticism from himself by imagining it's girls who are calling
the tune, those girls in their swimsuits.  Anyhow, if he were gay
he'd know it by now.  So would Carol.

Well, is he a crossdresser maybe?  A little bit transgendered? 
Maybe, she thought.  It could be.  It would be hard for him not to
be.  With his background, spending all that time with girls all the
way through high school?  Now and then he's got to have tried out
some of the things girls that age talk about incessantly, at least
in secret.  Maybe not try boys, but other things, clothes, make-up,
cute hair styles.  I bet he had his own panties and bras stashed
away at one time, maybe he still does.  Certainly he knows how
girls talk about other girls -- I've noticed how his voice always
takes on that naughty lilt when some neighborhood wife's
misbehavior is the topic, that's when he sounds just like one of
his high school girl friends dishing the dirt. Does he do other
girly things too?  I bet he'd try with the right encouragement.  
Especially now that he's hard up.  Especially now.

I know I can arrange that!  Should I?  Should I help Carol make 
her life more interesting?

Now that Maddy was focussed, she let her imagination run a little
further.  What if Carl ended up genuinely transsexual like Scott,
a part-time or even full-time woman?  Would Carol feel deprived? 
Maybe not.  She once had lots of he-man boy friends and she knows
how to get more.  Yet she did settle on Carl, and Carl isn't really
a man, he's too sweet!  She might prefer living with a girl who's
a former man, and getting fucked by real men on the side.  The best
of both worlds!  Would Carl make a good former man?  He seems to be
fixated on pictures of pretty girls with great faces and big boobs.
That can carry a man a long way toward becoming a girl like that 
himself, if he has any inclinations that way.  

She tried to imagine Carl with boobs.  Scott loved his breasts 
once he got them -- once he made the commitment he couldn't wait,
he wanted a feminine figure and implants and the bras needed 
to hold them and the blouses and sweaters to show them off, all of 
it, right away!  He'd been an awkward failure as a man, and he knew 
it once he realized how self-assured he felt as a woman, how 
happy, poised, even elegant!  In no time there'd been guys 
swarming all over him.  

I remember he wasn't interested at first, didn't like men, 
he was strictly a tits and ass man.  Like Carl now probably.  
But once he got his own tits and ass and girls weren't interested 
in him any more, he took up with guys all right.  Sex is sex!  
I remember I had to talk him into his first blow job, but not 
his second!  Men can be so marvelous, I remember I told him, 
they're all so different!  And while your mouth's wrapped around 
that tube, he's all yours!  

Maddy smiled.  Yours whether you want to see him again or not.  Girls
learn soon enough that there is no Mr. Right, take what's good
enough!  Scott learned that.  Especially when I showed him how a girl
can get men to pleasure them.  Then there was no stopping him!  He
couldn't wait to get a pussy of his own to use on them!   

Maddy smiled again.  Scotty now feels privileged to be a woman. 
Because unlike other women Scotty can't ever take her gender or her
body for granted the way women do who're born to them.  For Scotty
it's all new and a little daring, maybe even also a little wicked. 

Could Carl end up like that?  Big tits, a pussy where his balls
once hung down?  Married to a guy who leaps to attend his least
whim?  Maybe.  But not without Carol's consent, never.  It'll have
to be Carol who makes decisions like that for Carl.  She's the
boss!  I'd better make sure of that starting now!

The poor guy doesn't know that their old equal partnership is over. 
It's just as well.  I love them both, but they both should've
learned long ago that it's more fun to explore the little kinks you
find inside yourself.  And I really do owe it to Carol to help her,
Maddy thought further.  She deserves it!  She's been so worried,
she's been through so much lately.  Carl too.  Whatever's Carl's
problem, whatever prompted him to stand there with his balls
between his legs, he and his wife will soon be very different
people.  I will guarantee that!

But I'd best go slow.  They really have to do it themselves.  I'll
help, that's all.  Facilitate.  It'll be hard for me to restrain
myself, but I'll have to try.  Maddy grinned.  This could be fun! 
Carol married to a Scotty of her very own!  

"So is this something to worry about, do you think?" Carol asked
finally.  Then sat quiet.

Still flushed with her own thoughts, Maddy replied, "Not at all,
honey!  You're lucky!  Lots of women would love to have your
opportunities!"

Carol looked puzzled. 

Too fast, Maddy decided.  So she sat quiet a moment too,
contemplating where to begin.  Then, "Carol, let me ask you just
one thing."  She refilled Carol's wine glass yet again.  How many
was this now?  Three?  But she'd topped Carol up once or twice too. 
"Just one thing.  When you were just lying there looking at him,
and Carl was blushing and stammering, because he'd been hiding this
guilty secret from you and now you'd found it out?"

She paused.  Give Carol plenty of time to remember.  To put herself
into that mindspace.

"Yes?" Carol prompted her.  

It worked, Maddy noted with great satisfaction.  Carol's voice had
been small, anxiously concerned as she told her story.  Now it
sounded confident, firm.

"Did you like how it felt?  I mean, sure, you felt sorry for the
poor dear, there he was all upset, embarrassed, and so on.  But did
you feel anything else too?  Anything good?"

"Yes, I certainly did," Carol said seriously after a moment's
thought.  "I told you I think.  I felt strong.  In charge.  That
moment I felt I could control whatever he might say or feel.  Play
him like a musical instrument, maybe for as long as a half-an-hour. 
I bet that long!  It was wonderful!  I was embarrassed for him,
sure, but despite that I teased him, and that felt really good!  It
was mean of me I know, but I really loved it!  I liked watching him
crawl just a little, because I felt so superior to him!"  

"Because you really are what he was only pretending to be?  A real
woman?  You felt superior that way?"

"I guess.  Yes, that too.  Can you imagine?  I was feeling superior
because I'm a woman and he isn't?"

"Yes," Maddy replied dryly.  "I can imagine that.  I feel that way
all the time."  

"But also because at that moment he seemed to want something he
can't give himself.  And I want him to have it.  It's hard to
explain.  Because I do love him, so I want to help him.  Only I'm
not sure that with something like this I should help him!"

Of course you aren't sure, Maddy told herself.  Because it would
change everything.  Your whole world, with all its predictability
and stability!  But you do feel intrigued by that very possibility,
don't you?  

"Of course you should help him!" Maddy said firmly.  "But he's in
denial, isn't he?  A direct approach would frighten him, or maybe
make him angry.  So you'll have to be tactful.  You'll have to
suggest things without stating them, and keep secrets from him.  I
know, you've been honest with him so far, you don't want to play
cat and mouse with him ever even for the mouse's own good.  You want 
to remain equal partners, tell all, share all, no secrets.  But think
about this!  He's had this thing all this time, this need to
express a certain femininity, maybe even more than that his need to
look like a woman, maybe live like one at least part time.  Maybe
even become a woman, you don't know that he doesn't!"  

Carol looked at Maddy silently, eyes wide open.  She knew that she
didn't know.

"And he's never once mentioned it to you!   Maybe not even to
himself!  Carol, you've got to be ... indirect for his own good! 
Just think of what you're doing as a different kind of sharing, so
you can end up more equal than ever!"  Maybe even in your bra
sizes, Maddy added to herself.  "Are you willing?"

Carol was silent a long time.  She was no fool.  Then, "I want to
help him," she said simply.  "Whatever it takes."  And that was
that.

"I think I know how, " Maddy said.  "It isn't that hard to figure. 
But if I help you help him, will you stick with it?  No hesitation,
no turning back?  Go the distance?  Part way could mess you both
up!"  

She paused.  Time for a little incentive.  "I guarantee that the
whole time you're helping him, you'll be feeling the same way you
felt lying there watching Carl try to go girly all by himself in
front of that mirror.  That same feeling.  Amused, superior,
altogether in control.  Knowing that whatever you do is for his own
good."  

"I'd like that," Carol said.  "Knowing that I'm helping him.  I've
just said that!"

Carol already sounded in charge, a bit impatient even.  Usually her
voice registered apology, a desire not to offend.  Not now.

"Of course!"  Maddy paused again.  "You love each other.  You're
loving partners, the envy of all our friends.  But now you know
something Carl doesn't, what's missing from his life.  What all
those girls in high school had and he could only envy.  Femininity. 
Girlishness.  Womanliness.  Not your femininity, he knows that's
the greatest gift of his life, and that it's all his.  His own
femininity is I mean!  That's what he was looking for in that mirror
and in that swimsuit magazine.  I think you know that.  He may not
know it, but you do!"

She did.  She didn't blink.  Maddy asked again.  "I need to ask you
directly.  Are you willing to go wherever the trail leads to help
him realize his deepest needs?  His femininity?"

There was a long pause.  Carol looked down into her wine glass and
swirled what was there.  Then looked straight at Maddy and said
simply, "If that's what he needs, yes!  I love him!"


end 4/17

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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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