A quiet weekend in my flat.

1. Arrival
   I went to my flat this weekend.  I had some business to do in Hull, so staying in Gainsborough was a good option.  And of course it gave me the opportunity to unleash tiffani…
   I arrived late, and tired; the traffic was just awful.  I parked up in the car park under the flats, and taking my bags, I got the lift up to the 4th floor.  I walked up to the door, and put the key in the lock……. but it wouldn’t turn.  I checked it was the right key, and tried again- nothing.  But when I tried the handle, it turned…..  Hell, I must have left the door unlocked the last time I was here.
   I went in; the lights were on.  Something was wrong here.  I dropped my bags and walked up to the living room, opened the door and went in.
   To my shock, there was somebody sitting on my sofa- an imposing looking, attractive blonde woman, wearing a black skirt and top, smoking, legs crossed, a glass of wine on the coffee table in front of her.
   “What on Earth….” I started, but she raised a hand and cut over what I was saying.
   “Don’t panic Rob, your wife Anne sent me.  She’s asked me to do something for her.”
   “What?  How do you know Anne?  What has she asked you to do?”  I frowned, confused.
   “It’s simple Rob, here read this.”
   She handed me a note- clearly it was from my wife, I’d know her terrible handwriting anywhere.
   “My name is Eleanor by the way, but you can call me Mistress.”  The lady on the sofa said.  And then she kept talking as I read the note.  “She found your suitcase Rob, and she’s not impressed.  If you don’t do what I tell you to, she’ll expose you to your friends and colleagues, and she’ll divorce you and take your money and business.”   The note confirmed it.  “And by the way, you are to be known as tiffani from now on… tiffi.”
   “But, but, Oh God, how…..what….”  my mind whirled and I sat down.
   “Stand up tiffani, you haven’t earned the right to sit on a chair.  Let me put it simply.  Your wife is unhappy with you, and has hired me to turn you into her feminised sex slave and domestic help.  And I have a free hand to do whatever I want to you.”
2. Training starts.
   After some more discussion, I have realised that I have no choice.  So I stand before Mistress Eleanor, as she tells me what she wants me to do.
   “Strip naked.  Do it NOW.”
   I’m starting to realise that his lady is not to be messed with.  So I strip naked.  It’s embarrassing.  But I know it’s going to get worse.
   “Put this on.”  She hands me the CB6000 I own.  I notice that there is a key on a chain around her neck……
   I put it on; she has handed me the points of intrigue with rest of it- these can hurt if I get an erection, but clearly I have to wear them anyway.
   I click the padlock shut.  “Well done” Mistress says.  “You may even be allowed to take it off at some point.  For cleaning only, of course.
   Now, go into the bedroom, and bring back the pile of clothes I have put aside.  And say “Yes Mistress” when you react to my orders.”
   “Yes Mistress.”  I answer, and then go off to the bedroom.
   I pick up the pile of clothes, and return.  As I walk in the room, she takes a photo of me.  “For your wife.  She needs insurance in case you get cold feet.” She grins at me, an evil grin.  I shudder.
   “Put them on.” She says.
   I dress; red and black lace lingerie, a thong, briefs, suspenders, a bra.  Breast Forms.  A black top and skirt- too short to cover the stocking tops.  A belt.  Short lace gloves.  Long, heavy, dangly earrings.  And a long black wig.
   “Now, lets see you get made up.”  She points to the table, where the mirror and makeup are already lying.
   So I get made up.
   “And the fingernails tiffy,” she smiles again as she hands me the red polish.
   “Yes Mistress.”  I paint my nails.
   “Stand.”
   I stand up, and she photographs me again.  As the weekend goes on, I start to get used to her photographing me- she photographs everything…
   “Right, the first part of your training is to become a domestic Goddess tiffi.  Your wife has told me that you don’t do enough round the house, but from now on you’re doing everything.  So let’s get going.”
   I spent the rest of the evening learning to do housework, while Mistress Eleanor sat on the settee, smoking, giving me orders, drinking wine, and taking photographs.
   It’s hard cleaning in heels, and by the time I’d hoovered, cleaned the kitchen and bathroom, dusted and ironed my feet ached.
   “Well done tiffi,” Mistress said when I finally finished.  “Now get undressed, and take your makeup off.  You can sleep on the settee tonight, I’m in the bedroom.”  I undressed, removed my makeup and reported back.
   “Put your bra back on tiffani- You need it to hold your breast forms in place.  And the matching thong.  Wear this.”  She handed me a short black nightdress. “And your wig.  You will always wear a wig and breastforms when you are inside from now on.”
   “Yes Mistress.”
   And so to bed.  My mind whirled, but eventually I got some sleep.
3. The first day of the rest of my life.
   Up again, dressed, my makeup on again, this time just lingerie and high heels.  I am beginning to hate the heels; they slow me down, and hurt after an hour or two.
   Mistress swans around the flat as though she owns it, ordering me about, and always the photos.
   I make her breakfast- a bacon sandwich, coffee, orange juice.
   I get dry toast and water.
   “We need you to get a girlish figure tiffi.  Your wife has told me she wants three stone off you.”
   “Here, take this.  Go to the shops and buy the contents of this list.”  She hands me a list, and I scan it.  Some odd items.
   “I can’t go out like this though Mistress,” I stammer.
   “She grins again, “No tiffy I know that. Remove your wig, breasts high heels and makeup.  The rest stays on.  Put your male clothes on on top of your lingerie and stockings.”
   “But my nails, Mistress.”
   “You can wear gloves.  If you must.”
   “Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress.”
   I change, putting on my clothes over the full lingerie.
   I go to Tesco and buy the list, a mix of food and some other items- bootlaces, a girl’s scarf.  I’m careful not to remove my gloves, and go through self checkout.
   Disaster.  The touch screen won’t work with gloves.  I try to press buttons with my wrist, but I keep getting the wrong button.
   A young, female, attractive girl who works there comes over to help, and I thank her and smile, wanly.  Then one of the barcodes won’t read, and I have to type in a 16 digit number.  I look for help again, and she comes over smiling, but with one eyebrow raised.  She’s probably wondering why the weird guy won’t take his gloves off.  Eventually I escape, with the shopping.
   “Get used to it,” says Mistress.  “You are growing your nails, and you will not be removing your nail polish to go out.”
4. The first day of the rest of my life.
   That afternoon, I am tied up, blindfolded and left kneeling in the corner.  Apparently bondage is now a key part of my life.  It seems like forever, but apparently it’s just an hour.
   Evening comes; it is tea time.
   “We’re having salad tonight tiffi, and you’re making it.  You’ve just bought the ingredients.  Get enough out for both of us, and split them into two halves, one for each of us.”
   “Yes Mistress.”
   I split the ingredients as directed.
   “Now make my salad.”
   “Yes Mistress.”
   I make up her salad; the rest of the ingredients remain on the worktop.
   “Bring them here,” she instructs, and crosses to the table.
   I put the plate of ingredients on the table.
   “Now bend over the table.”
   I bend over the table, my bottom in the air, and I feel her pull my panties down.
   “Now this is the second part of your training,” she says. “You are going to be your wife’s sex slave, and you will have to perform for her, and for anyone else she brings home.” She bends over me, and hisses in my ear, “I’ve just spoken to her, and she tells me she is out with a young man tonight. She’s going to fuck him later. and if you were there she would offer him your arse as well.”
   I’m shocked, surely not…
   “So this is just a bit of preparation for you..  Try to relax……”
   And then she begins to work my arse, “Eventually, you’ll hardly feel this….”
   She inserts things into me, one after another.  She removes them and throws them onto the plate in front of me.
   They are salad vegetables, and they are soiled now…..
   Eventually she finishes.
   “Now go and make your own salad.”
   We sit at the table eating- mine is disgusting.
   “Eat it all up,” she commands, “get used to it. You will be eating a lot of bodily fluids from now on.”
   Later that evening she sends me for a bath, with instructions to linger.
   I don’t need any encouragement.  At least while I’m in here I’m not cleaning up, or being buggered with food.  I make the most of it, exfoliating, and afterwards moisturising, as instructed.  This is the nice part of being treated like a girl.
   I feel confused and fall asleep on the settee, exhausted by the day.
5. Sunday
   After breakfast, she takes me into the bedroom.  “Your wife wants to see what you look like in your outfits……. So put them on, one after another.  I’ll be sitting here.”
   I dress, and undress.  And dress and undress.  And dress and undress. And all the time she is taking photos, sometimes while I’m dressed, sometimes when I’m naked, apart from the chastity device.
   It takes more than two hours, and it’s hot, and surprisingly tiring.
   Eventually we finish, and she sits down at my pc with her camera.  She downloads and sends the photos off.
   “It’s time for lunch.  Here.”  She gives me another list.  She doesn’t tell me what to do, she just stares at me.
   I get partly changed, and go off to the supermarket again.  This time I go through the normal checkout, and have a bit of a moment when I drop my change.  I can’t pick it up in gloves, but the young girl behind the till helps me out.
   It’s the same routine as yesterday, but today my arse is sore before she starts.  There is blood and faeces on the pile of food on the table in front of me.
   It tastes worse tonight than last night- I make a face.
   “Don’t you like it tiffi?” she asks me.
   “Mistress, it’s fine.”  I guess that arguing might make it worse.
   “Let me get you some special vinegar for your potatoes,” she says, and gets up from the table.
   After a few minutes she comes back and places a glass half full of a yellowish liquid on the table.
   “There tiffi, that will make it taste better.  Let me.”  She pours a great splosh of it all over my dinner.  “Try it.”  She grins again.
   I try a potato. It is her pee, still warm.
   “Thank You Mistress.” Somehow I eat the meal.
   After dinner, I clean the flat again.  “It’s every day from now on,” she tells me.
   Later she sits me at the laptop.  “Your owner- that is your wife- wants you to attend a party at home next weekend, and she’s asked me to help out.”
   We go on-line, and she picks out a party dress for me.  It is bright blue, figure hugging, short.  “See why you have to get the weight off tiffi? I’ll get it sent straight to your home.  Your owner wants to see if you can pick up a man in it.”
6. Departure
   “It’s time for me to go,” she says.  So ends your first weekend of training.  But it’s just the start of it. Come over here tiffi.”  She crosses to the table.
   “Lift your dress.  Drop your panties.”
   She unlocks my Chastity device.
   “This is the final part of your lesson.  Your owner tells me that last night she fucked a young man in your bed.  And she’s only sorry you weren’t there.  Now wank onto that plate”
   I masturbate as ordered until eventually I come, groaning, my load all over the tea plate on the table.
   She immediately begins to put the CB6000 back onto me.
   “The reason she wanted you there was so you could clean her up afterwards.  With your tongue.  Sucking the spunk out of her pussy.   As you weren’t there she’s asked me to give you a taste at least.  So lick it up.”
   I lick my spunk from the plate. It is horrible and humiliating.  But it is my life now.
   She leaves soon after, with a cheery “See you soon tiffani.”
   I lie awake that night and I wonder what will happen next.