When an out-of-work husband offers to help raise his children, this happens.
Month One
Not long after arriving, the news that we were expecting our first child was both exciting and nerve-wracking. We were in a new house, in a new town, in a new country, and didn’t really know anyone yet. Getting support was going to be hard. I suppose it was of some benefit that I had not yet been able to find work.
At least that way I could raise the child while my wife continued to work, that’s assuming the company she worked for supported her. Fortunately, they seemed to be quite pro- family and we were reassured all would be taken care of. With my redundancy package, we didn’t really have any money worries and were able to prepare comfortably for the new arrival.
We prepared as best we could, but as we were both only children, we didn’t have much experience to base our preparations on. Month Two The early days of the pregnancy seemed quite easy for both of us, but after some weeks, over the space of a few days I found myself scratching my chest increasingly often and I was concerned that there was something wrong. There was no obvious rash and the only redness was where I had been scratching myself.
I mentioned this to Jill who also noticed that there was some significant swelling around the nipple area. This concerned both of us as my mother had had breast cancer and it was not unknown in men so we went to see a doctor. We hadn’t previously registered with one, but this was through Jill’s work and the doctor was the same one she was seeing for her pregnancy. The prognosis was not what I expected. There was no evidence of any cancerous growth and the only thing the doctor could come up with was that perhaps I was suffering from latent gynecomastia.
I had no idea what this was so he explained that some men have a propensity to grow breast tissue. This was probably genetic but he had no idea what had kickstarted this and could only imagine it was to do with my wife’s pregnancy. I was pleased it wasn’t cancer but mildly perturbed about the prognosis. The doctor prescribed me some cream which I was to smear on the affected area before I went to bed each evening. He hoped this might alleviate the growth.
Month Three Over the next few weeks life carried on as normal as we settled into our new lives. Applying the cream was not a hassle but it did leave a tingling sensation, and whenever I ran out of the cream I was able to get a repeat prescription quite easily. However, despite applying the cream daily as directed, the swelling continued to grow. Thankfully nothing was noticeable when I was dressed, only when I took my top off so it didn’t affect my life too much. There were two other developments. It appeared that applying the cream had the side effect of reducing hair growth, and when I scratched or rubbed my chest, the hair began to come away easily.
I wasn’t really worried about this, after all, it would grow back. The other development was that due to the swelling, my nipples began to get a lot more sensitive. Again, nothing much to worry about, but it was uncomfortable. Month Four As the swelling continued to develop, we returned to the doctor. He confirmed his prognosis from the previous visit and again prescribed some cream, this time apparently of a stronger dosage. I continued to apply the cream following the instructions, but the irritation was getting almost unbearable.
My wife came up with a solution to the irritation, not to prevent it, but to enable me to cope with it. She came back from work one day via a high street store and handed me a bag. “Try these for size,” she said. “I know it’s a little ‘out there’ but the material should feel much more comfortable on your skin.” Opening the bag I found some silk camisoles, like vests but much more delicate. I had seen my wife wearing similar items in the past. Thankfully these were not so feminine looking and had no additional lace or patterning. “Are you sure?” I asked. “Well, why don’t you try one on?
If it doesn’t help then I can take them back.” I took off my shirt and slipped one of the camisoles over my head. It fitted well and when I put the shirt on, the difference was noticeable, it felt much more comfortable. “Is that better?” Jill asked. “Much better, thank you, although it does feel a bit unusual.” “Well, if it helps you feel more comfortable and less irritated so much the better. I tried to get plain colors so you have one white, one black, and one in what can be ‘nude’. They came with free matching briefs.
You can wear them if you want, but you don’t have to. If you do wear them, I don’t think it weird, I always like wearing matching underwear!” And that was that, the first time I wore women’s underwear. It made a lot of sense and both the camisoles and the briefs felt comfortable. Jill didn’t seem to mind and nobody would notice. Month Five As the pregnancy progressed so did my swelling. We developed a habit each night of applying cream to each other. I would apply ‘anti-stretch mark’ moisturizer to Jill’s expanding belly, and she would apply my cream to my chest.
I am not sure if Jill’s cream had the desired effect, but mine didn’t seem to and the swelling increased until it got to a point where it looked like I had breasts. I began to feel increasingly uncomfortable with this and suggested to Jill that we return to the doctor. He was surprised by the continued growth, but maintained his prognosis and said there wasn’t really much he could do other than increase the dosage of the cream. We talked about other options, including getting them removed, but his advice was against surgery.
In his opinion, the growth was likely to stop, if not reverse, once the pregnancy had run its course and my wife’s hormones changed again. He suggested meeting again once the baby was born. His parting comment of ‘enjoy them while you have them’ wasn’t really helpful. Not only did I now have the discomfort from the more sensitive nipples, I could now feel the weight of the obvious breast growth. Jill’s solution to this was to buy me some more vest tops, but these ones had built-in support. I was apprehensive about wearing them, but immediately felt the difference when I put one on.
Even though my ‘breasts’ were quite small, the impact of the support was definitely noticeable. Something else was definitely noticeable, as my nipples became more sensitive, so they became more erogenous, a fact that Jill discovered one night when applying my cream. This was to both our benefits! Month Six Life and the pregnancy continued smoothly, but so did the breast growth. We decided against going back to the doctor as we felt he would only repeat himself. We did some checking up online and it would appear that I wasn’t the first case for this kind of development so we left it at that.
However, due to the breast growth, the vest tops I was wearing have become much tighter. Jill took some measurements and confirmed that I now had AA-cup breasts. I wasn’t really sure what that meant, but I did recognize that there was no avoiding the word ‘breasts’, these were no longer swellings. One day, Jill came back from work and sat me down. “Listening, darling. This moment is an important one in any young girl’s life and it will be no different for you.
I understand you will be apprehensive, but I really think it will help with your discomfort.” “I’m not really sure I understand,” I replied. “Then let me explain,” she said, reaching into one of the bags she had with her. She pulled out a bra, “I think this is the moment to give you your first bra.” “My first what?” I responded aghast. “Your first bra. You can carry on going braless if you wish, but believe me it will get uncomfortable. Come on darling, try it on.
I am just trying to help you.” “Really?” “Really,” she replied, “I do think this will help.” So, stripping off my top, my wife showed me different ways to put a bra on and I put on a bra for the first time. “Wow, that does make a difference, it’s much more comfortable,” I said. “I’m glad. Now put your top on and see what it looks like.” I put my shirt back on and was dismayed to see that it was obvious, with the support the bra offered, that I had breasts. I looked downhearted and explained why. “Well perhaps only wear the bras indoors so that you can benefit from the support.
When you go out, go braless and wear baggy tops,” was her solution. I reluctantly agreed, recognizing the comfortable support the bra offered, however, as the weeks continued I became more and more self-conscious about my breast growth and less inclined to go out. Month Seven Despite the continued application of the cream, my breasts continued to grow and after a while, I no longer found the training bras comfortable.
I am guessing Jill noticed but she waited for me to say. “So, are you asking me to buy you some new bras,” she said, with a glint in her eyes. “Yes please,” I replied, rolling my eyes, realizing what she was getting at. She smiled and kissed me. The following day she returned from work with a bag from one of the high street shops. She reached in and handed me a two-pack of t-shirt bras in white and black. Following her suggestion, I pulled off the t-shirt I was wearing exposing my breasts, and tried on one of the new bras.
It fitted really well and was much more comfortable than the smaller bras I had been wearing. I thanked her and slipped the T-shirt back on. “That’s not all,” she said, handing me the bag, “Look inside.” I looked inside and gasped. I looked at her questioningly. “Go on,” she said, “Humour me. I felt a bit naughty when I was shopping.” I reached in and pulled out a pink satin and lace bra, matching panties, and a matching nightdress. “What is this?
Are these for me? I can’t wear these?” I protested. “Why not?” “Well, they’re really girly,” I responded. “You’re wearing a bra at the moment, Sam. You can’t get girlier than that. Go on, humor me, just to see how it looks, think of it as bedroom fun just for us,” she said with a cheeky and suggestive look in her eyes. “Go and try them on while I get dinner ready.” Enticed by the look in her eyes, I conceded. In the bedroom, I stripped off, and, holding them like they were about to explode, stepped into ‘my’ new panties.
They fit perfectly with a firm lacy front and smooth satin rear. The bra felt smoother than the bras I had been wearing. The final step was slipping the nightdress over my head. I couldn’t resist a shiver as I flowed down my body, needing a gentle tug to allow the breasts to slip into the cups. I felt ridiculous, but the promise later held firm. Once I knew it fitted, I took the nightdress off, laid it on the bed, and got dressed again. Back in the kitchen, Jill asked if everything fitted. I nodded. “I can’t wait to see,” she said, “Dinner first.”
I delayed it as long as possible, but eventually, it was time to go to bed. Jill had been sitting in bed waiting for a while and when I got into the bedroom, she watched eagerly as I stripped off. I could feel her eyes on me the whole time as I removed the new bra and slipped the nightdress on, again unable to resist a shiver as it settled on my body. When I was ready I slipped into bed next to her. “You look really cute,” she said in a husky voice, toying with the ribbons of the nightdress that settled between my breasts and started to kiss me deeply.
She was clearly turned on as we engaged in the most passionate sex we had had for months. Once we were done and all tidied up, I went to put on my normal boxers and t-shirt for bed. “What about your new lingerie,” she said, looking slightly hurt. “You want me to wear it properly, not just for, well sex?” “Yes, of course, I wouldn’t have bought it otherwise. As I said, you look cute, shame about the hairy legs, but you look cute nonetheless.” Stepping back into the panties and slipping the nightdress on I went to brush my teeth before getting back into bed.
This was all a bit weird, but Jill seemed happy so I went with it. She snuggled in, saying she loved me, and then fell asleep. I woke up the following morning as my wife kissed me on the forehead. “Goodbye, sweetie,” she said, “have a nice day.” I lay there feeling confused. Here I was, her husband, lying in bed in a nightdress and panties she had bought me, my breasts held delicately in the satin cups, and I was feeling I had let her down, not because I was wearing what I was wearing, or because I was developing breasts, but because I was too hairy.
She hadn’t actually said she wanted me to do anything about it, but it was clear when she said how cute I looked, apart from the hairy legs. I decided to do something about it. Running a hot bath, I sought out her hair removal products and then spent the next hour or so carefully shaving my legs. I also decided, on a whim, to shave my armpits. Even though the cream I had been applying on my breast area had denuded my chest of hair, there was still some around my belly, so I shaved that as well.
At the end, I rinsed myself off in the shower and as I toweled myself down, I couldn’t believe my reflection, aside from the hair on my head, the only hair I could see was around my groin. I looked like I did when I was a teenager, only now I had breasts. Taking my cue from having watched my wife previously, I moisturized all the areas I had shaved, before getting dressed.
I slipped on a bra and panties and stood in front of our full-length mirror. Despite my rather shaggy shoulder-length hair, the reflection I saw was definitely on the feminine side of androgynous. I even experimented with tucking back my thing. Getting dressed, I continued about my day. To begin with, I was constantly reminded about my denuded body, but gradually got used to it, and it wasn’t until we got ready for bed later that evening that I remembered, or rather my wife noticed.
“What have you done?” she inquired. “Well,” I responded shyly, “your comment about my hairy legs last night made me think you didn’t like it, so I did something about it.” “Oh my dear,” she responded, “Come here.” I padded over to her in my bra and panties so she could inspect my handiwork. “Very good. A few stray hairs here and there, but a good effort. Strip off and get back in the bathroom, I’ll help you finish it off.” “What do you mean,” I asked. “Well, clearly there are parts of your body that you could not reach, so I will help you.” “Are you sure,” I asked. “Of course. If you’re going to do something you may as well do it properly.”
So I was back into the bathroom and as I stood in the bath, Jill stripped off to her underwear and carefully examined and plucked and shaved the rest of my body to her satisfaction. Once she had finished it was getting quite late, but she insisted on moisturizing my whole body before I put on my nightdress. She was too tired for anything much once we eventually got to bed, but we did fall asleep in each others’ arms. She must have left for work before I woke up as there was no sign of her. I had a leisurely breakfast, and as I did, I had an idea.
After I had tidied up, I went to get dressed, but after putting on one of my bras and a pair of panties, I headed over to her wardrobe. ‘What would it feel like?’ I thought. I found a pair of tights and, sitting on the edge of the bed as I had seen her do many times, I slid them up my legs. The sensation of pulling the tights up my hairless legs was quite exhilarating. After trying a couple, I then found a skirt that fit me comfortably and a blouse that fitted quite well.
Unfortunately, my feet were too big for her shoes, but as I stood looking at myself in the mirror, I was amazed at the reflection. My amazement quickly turned to shock, however, as I heard the door to our apartment open and my wife saying, “Hi honey, I’m home.” I froze thinking there was nothing I could do, and before I could react, her head appeared around the bedroom door. “Are you still in… oh?” she exclaimed? I stood there dumbly, blushing deeply. “What are you doing?” she asked. “I, I, I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me, I just thought it would be a good idea to” I stammered in response. “No, I mean, what are you doing, that skirt and blouse don’t go together,” she said coming over to me. Grasping my hand she tried calming me down. “Don’t worry, dear.
It’s only natural with everything that is going on for you at the moment. Listen, I only popped in to pick up something I had forgotten. Let’s talk about this tonight. I have to go.” And, picking up the paperwork she had left on her bedside table she was gone, leaving me sitting on the edge of our bed in her clothes. After a while, I got up and stripped off. Whatever moment I was having had gone, and it just felt odd. When she returned later that evening, I think she was a little disappointed that I wasn’t still dressed.
We talked about it for a while, and she theorized that if my breasts were going to continue to grow, then sooner or later it would be too difficult to hide the fact that I had breasts when going out, and perhaps experimenting with whether or not I could pass as female, at least just to pop out and get groceries, might be helpful. It took me some convincing, but it did make some sense. Stammering, I asked if she would help me and a huge beam crossed her face. “Of course, my dear,” she smiled, let’s leave it until the weekend and then we can play.
That meant a couple of days carrying on as ‘normal’. Despite having the opportunity to try on some of her clothes again during the day, I chose not to. It just seemed a bit strange to do so, then I suppose it is not every wife who buys their husband panties, bras and a nightdress.
Read the online Story — Husband Feminized By His Wife
