John is never allowed out of the house unaccompanied. It's not a matter of trust but of control. On those few occasions we do leave the house together I insist, and have done from day one, that he wears a bra and a pair of panties. Nothing special, plain white nylon one's usually, it's the secret knowledge that gives them their power. We are the only two people in the world who know John's secret. He trusts me not to expose and humiliate him, and yet his fear of being exposed makes him wary and very nervous. Ask yourself, is such a man likely to argue with his wife under those circumstances? I think not. Is he likely to run away? Of course not.
Now here's where I admit to being surprised. Making him dress up to go out was a practical measure, one I may even have contemplated even if I'd never feminised John at home. But something every odd happened. I enjoyed having my secretly feminised man at my side. I enjoyed his fear and I enjoyed the way he rarely strays from my side. He's like a frightened child clinging to and hiding behind his mother's skirts. It's exciting, arousing, thrilling.
The minute we get home he quivers with relief as the door is locked behind us. I take him in my arms and John melts willing into my embrace. I kiss him and he's as eager as I am to get his clothes off. I often make love to him in out tiny hallway with John still wearing his white nylon bra and his filmy white hi-waist panties!