"What a load of garbage."
"No, really, it's true!"
"Yeah, right. How gullible do you think I am? You're just trying to mess with me."
"Well, let me prove it to you. How about your husband?"
"Hmmm ... interesting."
"What should I do?"
"I tell you what. If you can make my husband wear a bra and panties, then I'll believe you."
"<giggle> ... It would serve him right, too. He's such a self-righteous homophobe."
Saturday morning and Janet is still asleep. I sneak upstairs to my office and turn on my computer to browse the porno I had downloaded overnight. I like to masturbate on Saturday mornings while viewing dirty pictures from the internet. I mean, who doesn't?
What's this? A unexpected file appears on my desktop. "Bran Panties?" I mutter to myself, "sounds uncomfortable." I double-click the executable.
<zzzrrrooommm> I freeze. The entire screen is taken over by a weird, flickering pattern that draws me in and expands to fill my entire field of vision.
<ping!> the picture is replaced by a woman, lounging in bed, wearing a bra and a pair of panties.
I can't move. I stare at the picture, drinking in the image. She looks happy, she looks comfortable, she looks relaxed, the bra and panties look nice and comfortable and lovely and fun to wear...
"What the hell?" after a few seconds, I snap out of it.
"Lame," I think. "Standard internet soft-core porno. Weird about those flickering patterns, though." I reach for the keyboard...
<zzzrrrooommm> The flickering pattern returns and my hand drops limply to my side. I feel all thoughts drain away.
<ping!> A second picture appears. Another woman, this time standing in front of the dishwasher, just wearing a bra and panties, smiling, happy, a hand on her hip feeling the smooth fabric of her underwear, the straps over her shoulders feeling so snug and comforting and like they had to be there and like I would fall apart if they weren't and wouldn't I like to be clasped in an intimate hug like that and...
I shake my head to clear it. "What the fuck?"
clingy panties, hugging hips, cut high, delightfully creasing between my buns, bits of lace tickling my legs, elastic gently hugging...
"Achhh! Damn! Stop it!!" I shout, trying desperately to turn away.
silk fabric, rubbing nipples, caressing skin, sliding gently over pert buns, cupping breasts...
hooks and eyes, elastic, hugging, restricting, binding my chest, they move to the next row of hooks, tighter, more delicious, more wonderful, more incredible...
happy, warm, cared for, sexy, excited, horny, relaxed, beautiful...
enclosed and tight, imprisoned in lingerie, unable to take it off, not wanting to ever take it off...
panties, bras, wearing...
bra and panties...
bra and panties...
bra and panties...
"You won't believe this!"
"I woke up this morning and there he was! Trying on my underwear!"
"You don't say?"
"And he had this weird, blissful expression on his face."
"So, what you'd do?"
"Well, I forbid him to wear any of mine, that's for sure. And then <giggle> said that if he wanted some to wear, he should go out and buy his own!"
"And he did! Raced out of the house like it was on fire and came back with three bags full. He's worn nothing-but, all day."
"Told you I could do it."
"OK, I admit you were right, this time. But I bet you can't make him do this..."
Saturday morning again. My new bra and panties are the best! They feel incredible! Just putting on a pair in the morning makes me feel complete, loved, and tingly all over. And my wife is so wonderfully supportive, although somewhat amused by my new obsession. Boy, did we ever have a lot of sex this week.
I turn on the computer, just like I had every morning this week to run BRANPANTIES.EXE again. "It's becoming like an addiction," I think idly to myself, wondering ... is this was something I should worry about?
It's gone! Where is BRANPANTIES.EXE?? Damn it!
I look all over and it is nowhere to be found. A search of my hard drive returns no results. Backups! Why didn't I make a backup??
I whimper a little, feeling lost and adrift.
Just then, I notice a new icon on my desktop.
"Beam aid?" I double-click it.
<zzzrrrooommm> I sigh in pleasure as I watch the flickering patterns and feel the stress drain from my body.
But wait! There's no picture of a woman in bra and panties. This woman is fully dressed! And she's wearing some ridiculous parody of a maid's outfit and holding a feather duster. I look at her for a few seconds, then roll my eyes and reach for the keyboard.
<zzzrrrooommm> My hand halts in mid air before gently dropping to my side.
Another woman in a maid's outfit. Actually, she's kind of sexy, and she looks perfectly happy to be wearing it. She reaches up to dust a high shelf and you can clearly see her legs encased in stockings and garters.
"But still," I blink, "where are my branpanties pictures?"
"You know, the bodice of those maid's uniforms look awfully tight," I think to myself, "wonderfully so," I add in wonder. This woman is merely posing, lightly holding a feather duster in her right hand. It looks like it should have been uncomfortable, but the woman in the picture appears more than comfortable. In fact, she seems to really enjoy wearing it.
Her left hand strokes down the bodice which tightly clenches around her waist, pulling it in a couple of inches like a demanding corset, encasing and restricting her torso, hugging her body, tight, comforting, sexy...
"Didn't men used to wear corsets?" I wonder.
SLAP! From some deep reserve of strength, my hand reaches up and slaps my face, shocking some sense into my brain. "OK, enough's enough!" I say, out-loud, quickly moving the cursor to the 'window-close' box. But before I can click it...
puffy short sleeves, just long enough to hide the shoulders and add some flounce. Bright white lace stitched on the edges, lightly grazing over bare arms as you move, gently reminding you of what you are wearing, reminding you that you are a maid...
"Nooo..." I moan, unable to look away.
stockings and heels, gossamer fabric caressing legs, hugging legs, held up by elastic garters attached to the corset, garters wrapped in frilly black lace, lace rubbing against bare thighs, stockings delightfully stretched over beautiful legs and pert toes, keeping them safe and warm and smooth and silky and beautiful and...
high heels, black, classic, arching feet, beautiful legs, curved and shapely legs, high heels enforcing good posture, like a proper person should have good posture, pinched toes subtly reminding a person to mind their place, pinched toes saying that your feet are trapped, captured, can not get away, must be a maid, don't need to get away, don't need to worry about getting away, don't need to worry about anything but wearing these clothes which remind you of your place and your desire to maintain your place and the desire to be a maid so that you don't have to make decisions...
velvet ribbon around the neck, very tight but very nice, small apron, feather duster, white lace, small white cap pinned on, hair put up, being happy, knowing my place, being sexy, being proud of my position, comfortable, routine, sexy, horny, satisfied, relaxed, warm, loved...
Sexy French maid's dress...
"You fucked up!"
"What? What happened?"
"He's not cleaning the house at all! He's just prancing around in a stupid French maid's outfit! He spent all day Saturday looking for one, and finally found one at some costume shop. And today two more arrived by FedEx!"
"<laughing> I love it. He must look ridiculous."
"It's not funny! It was hard enough convincing him not to go out of the house dressed like that. And when I told him he couldn't wear it at home, do you know what happened?"
"He burst into tears! I thought he was going to have a nervous breakdown, all that screaming and carrying on!"
"Well, what do you want me to do?"
"Fix it! Now! I want a maid who actually cleans up the fucking place!"
"I love Saturdays," I think to myself. "The start of a whole new week, just being who I am. A maid."
.... There is more of this story ...