My wife is a nurse and she works a twelve hour shift Monday to Thursday, one week the day shift, the other week the night shift. I'm an engineer myself, and on Monday and Wednesday I work from home. So, two days every other week, I have the house to myself to explore my dretish.

Okay, I made that word up, but I have a dress fetish, and these days I like to wear one of my wife's dresses, while working on my projects. You'd probably call me a cross dresser, but I think that's not correct. You see, I'm not trying to look like a woman. I just like that feeling of soft, sexy, stylish fabric covering all of my body. The longer the dress the better.

Having said that, being more or less the same size as my wife, the dress is typically ill-fitting in the chest area, and the only solution was to get my “own” breasts. And I found something they call a breast plate. It looked to me more like a skin colored latex top that put breasts on my chest and gave me a chance to narrow my waist at the same time, thanks to some seriously elastic straps. To be honest, that top is typically sold to cross dressers.

As I said, I'm about the same length as my wife, but all of her long dresses and gowns drag along the floor when I wear them, because she always wears heels with them. So, I bought three inch heels myself, thus I wouldn't mess up her clothes.

The option to work from home started during covid, so after a few years I can say I'm very capable of walking in heels, and I'm also very happy with how I look in these dresses. Never have I gone farther than this, nor is it anything sexual. The only thing I have to confess is that when I wear one of her shorter dresses, I still wear the heels. Breasts and heels are simply part of the equation.

Well, that equation changed when my wife went to an estate sale, and came back with about a dozen dresses and gowns, red carpet style, and originally probably very expensive. She tried on two, and they fit her nicely. Which meant that they would fit me nicely too.

I almost felt bad about trying on her new dresses before she did, but my dretish quickly took over, because they were so exclusive, I just had to feel them on my skin. And unlike my normal habit, I tried on three in a row.

I had to be careful, as the gowns, because that's what they were in my mind, were wrapped in thin paper, so I had to wrap them back up in the same way. Because of that I hadn't noticed that the third gown was not the typical kind of fabric. It was pure leather.

Just from the smell you could tell it wasn't some fake leather, which meant this dress had cost quite a bit at some point. And I couldn't wait for it to be against my skin.

I don't think any of her dresses ever fit me so well. I had glossy skin and defined curves, and the length was perfect in my heels. And when I looked in the full size mirror, for the first time I wanted my face to match as well.

I had to be careful, as sometimes I have meetings where they want to see my face. I normally throw on an oversized sweater, so they don't see my dress or boobs. But if I wear a wig and some makeup it's no longer possible to hide. Mentally I went through my upcoming meetings, and I decided I could do it, as my webcam would be “broken” since the last Windows update.

I never thought it could be this fun to take that extra step. But my wife had that Addams family wig, long and black, that went perfect with the black leather. Then I tried my best at matching black lips and eyes. I didn't have much experience but I understood the basics, having seen my wife do it so often.

Well, I created a new problem, one I never had before. I got aroused, just from looking at myself in the full-size mirror. Luckily the leather stopped most of my growing hard-on but there was a clear bulge that shouldn't be there.

I knew this wasn't going to go away, so I took a drastic measure. With some effort I managed to lift up the skirt part high enough, so I could get my hand around my manhood, and in the bathroom, looking in the mirror, I was just tall enough in my heels to jerk off in the sink on my side.

I felt like Morticia giving Gomez a handjob, or was it that single hand you always see moving around in the movie? No matter what, the whole picture got me hornier and hornier, and I didn't last long. I don't think my load has ever come out this hard, and a huge glob stuck to my fingers. And I must have been so deep in that role that I brought my fingers to my black lips and sucked them clean.

It was a shock when the taste hit me. Not that it was bad, but I knew it was wrong. Yet, the vision in the mirror of this sexy woman doing such a naughty thing, was so strong that I scooped up another glob from the sink, and sucked it in again. I licked my lips and even that was so erotic that I did it again and again. Until there was no cum left.

I guess in this Morticia mode I figured I had to punish Gomez for making me eat his cum. And I remembered a little box, stored a year or so ago under this very sink, from the time that my wife had a kinky period, and she'd bought me a chastity device. I liked her kinkiness at the time but not that part, and I did enough to satisfy her and make her forget the little cage. And so did I, but as Morticia I suddenly remembered.

It took a bit, since I was still holding up my skirt with my other hand, but eventually I figured out again how it worked. A metal ring clicked around my scrotum, and my totally soft and shrunken member fit exactly in the small cage that then clicked into the ring. There had to be a small key that would lock it on and off again. Except, it was not in the box.

Luckily, the contraption seemed to stay together, and as I put the whole thing back in my underwear and let the skirt drop, there was not even a hint of a bulge anymore. Probably better this way, because if you lock it and you lose the key, you're stuck…

Anyway, I was quite pleased with the dress, my looks, and the enormous relief my orgasm had given me, and for the rest of the day everything I touched in my work turned into gold. My boss actually texted me he was going to put me in for some award, which came with a bonus, as I'd singlehandedly saved the company some three hundred thousand with my solution.

Now, at the end of my workday I typically take everything off and go back to my old self, before I cook some dinner, enough for me and for my wife, who comes home around ten, after leaving around eight in the morning. This time however I wondered if my cooking would also improve, thanks to my leather dress. Or was it my increased confidence, thanks to the dress?

Long story short, yes, my lasagna never looked better. And it tasted great as well, as I licked the sauce from my fingers, and all kinds of naughty thoughts went through my mind. And as I enjoyed the sensuality of my own new looks, I almost missed the sound of the garage door opening.

It is surprising the number of things you can think of and act on if you only have a few seconds of life left. Because I knew that Kate, my wife, would kill me if she saw me like this. I had to get upstairs and lock myself in the master bathroom, and make up a story about why she can't use the bathroom. For a fraction of a second I considered taking off my heels, but with the skirt being rather tight, it would take longer to take them off than the time I would gain by running upstairs.

As a matter of fact, I still managed to run upstairs in my heels, without breaking my legs, or worse, my neck. As I reached the top of the stairs I could hear the garage door close again, meaning she'd be inside the kitchen in less than a minute.

By the time she was calling for me, I was locked in the bathroom, and I had turned the shower on, which would explain why I wasn't answering her. I figured I had about five minutes to get out of the dress and hide it together with my heels and breasts and wig, before she'd start banging the door and eventually using the little screwdriver to unlock the door from the outside, like she's done in the past.

It should've been enough, except… I couldn't get the damn zipper to open. It was stuck, and with any other dress I'd probably tear the thing off of me, but with real leather there is nothing to tear. Time to panic!

I took a deep breath to calm me down, counted to ten, and tried the zipper again. It was a no-go. Time for plan B. Which I had to make up on the spot, as Kate was knocking on the door. “Honey”, she yelled, “you never guess what happened…”

I gave my best “I'm in the shower” impression by yelling back “Give me two minutes!” But it was not enough. The zipper wouldn't budge. And suddenly I had the solution, so simple, I couldn't believe I didn't think of that before.

I lifted up the skirt and pulled it up and up, so I could simply lift the whole dress over my head, like you'd take off a t-shirt. However, a t-shirt will stretch, real leather will not, or not much that is. I managed to clear my hips, but it was so tight around my narrow waist that I couldn't get past my breasts.

With the long skirt already over my head, the smell of leather in my nose, when I realized I couldn't move it further, and I was truly fucked, I let out a frustrated yelp. That triggered Kate to no longer wait outside, and she used the small screwdriver in the hole on the doorknob, unlatching the lock, and opening the door. And I heard her voice reflect my own thoughts. “What the fuck?”

I realized this was not a good sight, in my heels and my underwear exposed, so I started pulling my skirt down again. And the moment Kate saw my face, she said, “Who are you?”

Then recognition dawned, and she said “Mitch?” I nodded, knowing I had lost, waiting for her wrath. When she said nothing more, I tried to explain. “It was this dress. I was so fascinated by the leather, I wanted to feel it. And then the zipper got stuck and I couldn't get out of it.”

It shook her out of her own stupor, and she started asking questions. “You wanted to feel the dress? And you just happened to have a pair of heels with it? In which you're not even stumbling? And did the dress come with that skin colored latex wrapped around your waist? And you seemed to have a pair of breasts lying around? OK, I recognize that wig, but you just happened to know how to do that makeup on your face? Making you look like a real woman? How long have you been dressing up?”

I guess the last question was the critical one. And I confessed. “It was never like this. Once in a while I wear a dress, just because the material feels so soft on my skin, wrapped all around me. But I needed heels, so the long dresses wouldn't brush the floor. And I needed breasts or the chest part was hanging loose. But I never wanted to look like a woman, just enjoy your dresses while working. Until this morning, when I tried this leather on. For some reason I needed to finish the look.”

There you have it, my life was over, but at least I had come clean with her. I had one perfect day that ended in this nightmare. But she wasn't done asking questions yet.

“Lift up your skirt please. I noticed something.”

And I could feel my cheeks burn as I lifted the skirt again, I had all forgotten about the cage. And as she pulled my underwear down, she sat on her knees and checked my crotch.

“So, after all this time, you finally tried it? Why?”

Might as well confess it all. Sort of. “This morning, when I put the dress on, the leather material made me horny, and a bulge showed. I remembered this cage, but I had to jerk off before I could fit it, and no more bulge since. Sorry…”

I added that last bit as an afterthought, as our sex life has been so-so for a while, so jerking off is sort of wasting a chance for some good sex. She ignored that last part. “Give me the key”, she said.

“The key wasn't there, so I couldn't lock it. But at least it held.”

Still on her knees, she looked up in my eyes, with disbelief on her face. Then she started smiling. “Oh sure it held. The key is only needed to unlock it. You clicked it in its locked position. This cage won't come off again without it.”

Now I was in shock. What I hadn't told her was that I had tasted my own cum, and I was going to experiment some more with that one day, but how was I to jerk off with that cage on me? “You have the key somewhere, right?” I asked her, trying to keep the panic from my voice.

“Hmmm. Maybe. It's been so long, and you weren't interested. I will have to search. For now it doesn't matter though. This seems like a good punishment for wearing my clothes. As a matter of fact… hold that skirt up, and don't move!”

She got up and left the bathroom, coming back a minute later with a pair of panties in her hands. And as she sat back on her knees, she pulled my underwear down and told me to step out. And she noticed once more how effortless I could stand on one heel and then the other. Then she had me step into her panties. I protested, but she said, “A simple rule. From now on, as long as you wear this cage, you will wear panties as well. No exceptions, unless you're in the shower. Even when I'm not around. Agreed?”

I protested more, this was just crazy, but she cut me off. “You want to get out of this dress, right? Out of that cage? Then you do what I say! Tell me you understand. Tell me you agree. Promise!”

I saw no way out, but there was a silver lining here. Apparently she wasn't kicking me out, and in a way I was grateful for that. So I said, “Okay. I promise.”

“Promise what?”

“I promise that as long as I wear the cage, I will wear your panties.”

“Not just my panties. We will buy you your own. But you will wear anything I give you. Understand?”

This was going much further than I wanted, but I saw no way out. “Okay. As long as I wear the cage I will wear whatever you want me to.”

As she got up she was full of smiles now. “Very well. But there is more. When you wear dresses from now on, I want you to go fully en-femme, like you are right now. With a wig and makeup. And you will learn to use a female voice. And most importantly, you will get rid of all your body hair. Permanently.”

In a way that didn't sound too bad. It means that I would still be able to dress up, and I had learned today that looking more like a real woman was actually a turn-on. Not a bad deal. So I agreed once more, and she pulled the panties up, over my hips, after which she pulled the skirt down again. Then she checked the zipper, and she had to laugh.

In a way, the dress was like the cage, as the zipper automatically locked itself. The wearer would never be able to unlock herself, but another person could do it, with a bit of effort. When the zipper finally came down, she stripped the dress off of me, and I stood there in just my heels and panties, as she checked out my latex breasts and top. She actually seemed impressed.

She had me take the latex off as well, and when I was completely naked, but for the cage, she told me to get in the shower that was still running, and shave all of my body hair. Once that was done, I was to put the breasts and dress and all back on, but she gave me a bra as well. Panties and bras were mandatory from now on, even if I wasn't wearing the breasts.

Shaving your whole body is not that simple. I had no clue how to shave most of my backside. And in my crotch area I was scared to death to shave too close. But, I did my best, and not long after I was trying to figure out how to put that bra on. When I finally managed, I was surprised how the weight of my breasts was spread out more evenly between my chest and my shoulders.

This time I was more careful with the dress, and I didn't zip up completely, so that I could still unzip it again, if I wanted. I was pleased that I managed to recreate the Morticia look again, slightly better even than before.

When I finally got in the bedroom I could hear Kate on the phone, but she hung up when she saw me. A smile appeared on her face when she saw me, or was it a hungry look? Well, it couldn't be the latter, right, as apparently she finished all the lasagna while I was in the shower.

She said it was the best she ever had, and I explained about all the successes I had during the day. At which she concluded that the dress had brought me luck.

She checked me out, walking around me, lifting up the skirt and checking my crotch. She wasn't too happy with the fact that there was still some hair there, as well as on my back, but she wasn't worried, because apparently I had an appointment on Saturday for laser hair removal.

But, she didn't like the fact that I hadn't closed the zipper on my dress completely. And she made it clear that if I ever wanted my cage unlocked again, I would have to follow her rules. Up to the point that whenever she did unlock me, I would voluntarily lock myself up again, if only she asked.

So, that was it then, right? This was all about submission. That was her kinky fetish about a year ago, when she got that chastity cage for me. I started remembering again what she said at the time. Yes, it was about dominance and submission. But it was more about trust. Trust that in the relationship that we were in no one was getting hurt. Trust that both of us would be happy, no matter what role we played. Trust that there was room for fun, but also trust that if there was pain, that it was applied with love.

And I finally understood. We both had our kinks. Our fetishes. She had accepted mine already. Otherwise she would have called a divorce lawyer by now. But I never accepted hers, flat-out refusing to wear the little cage that was part of it. Heck, I never really wanted to know even what else was part of her fetish.

And I guess, since then, we were less connected, our sex life went down. She never forced me into it, she accepted that it wasn't for me, but at the same time, some of that trust in our relationship was damaged. And even now I didn't show that trust, I didn't zip my dress fully, didn't trust that she would unzip me again. It was me that was the problem. And I was going to fix that right now!

I looked my wife straight in the eyes, and I saw she still loved me, that she wanted to trust me. And I grabbed the zipper on my back and pulled it up completely, until I heard the tiny click. And just like that I felt free. Free from worries. Free from questioning. Free from wondering. Free from hiding. My fetish had come out and so had hers. Combined we would both be happy.

No words were wasted anymore. She pulled me into her and we kissed harder, deeper than ever since we met. I gave myself to her, and in return she gave herself to me.

She pulled a strap on her robe, and as fully dressed as I was, she was now completely naked. Except for a leather harness around her hips that held a dildo sticking out from her crotch. And she squeezed some lubrication on it, and spread it out with her hand. Then she pointed at me and to the bed. And I knew she was going to take my virginity.

I sat on all fours, my skirt pulled up a bit, and although I was scared, this new trust thing gave me strength. Luckily she didn't drag things out. She pulled the skirt up fully past my hips and just pulled my panties to the side. Whatever lube she still had was spread out around my exposed hole. Then she started pushing in.

Mind you, this part she took care to go slow and let me get used to the intruder. I was never stretched out like that before and it hurt. But, thanks to the cool gel she managed to push in deeper, pull back a bit, then moved a bit farther. And in this slow move, my body took her in, as the pain slowly faded.

I still can't believe it, but at some point she was completely inside me, her warm skin touching my behind. And just like I would have done if it were my dick, she started going back and forth, in a much faster tempo. Her hands on my hips, moving me into her and pushing back a bit. And suddenly she hit a spot that sent a wave of pleasure through my body, and I moaned.

That was apparently what she needed, as every touch was aimed at my hotspot now, and I could hear her groan. I was aware how little control I had, but in some strange way I found that liberating as well. There was no need for me to impress or perform. But I did push back into her rhythm, and that increased the pleasure for both of us, as I heard her panting each time I thrust back.

There was nothing more than her dick in my “pussy”. I was virgin no more, and that pain was long forgotten. Instead, this new pleasure had become so strong that I could feel my body preparing to orgasm. And when she screamed in ecstasy, she took me over the top as well.