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Description

I had moved to the town of Stepford to follow a career opportunity. Little did I know it was all a ruse to get one of their rich bachelors his ideal wife. You see he had a thing for women with a little extra in their panties if you catch my drift.

That's where I came in; a fairly androgynous if not slightly effeminate man with no job prospects and no family to come looking for me if I happened to disappear. So I was offered a teaching job at the local high school where he was the principal. I thought it a little strange when I was required to wear a three-piece suit and the few female teachers were all in hobble skirts or petticoats. It was even weirder when the students arrived dressed like teeny-boppers straight out of a 1950s rom-com.

Things only got weirder the principal spent an extraordinary amount of time in my classroom. He advised music and hygiene products which I ended up using. Over a few weeks I found my suits stopped fitting and I was starting to wonder what a nice dress would feel like. A couple weeks after that I was showing up to work in those dresses and had even agreed to a date with the principal.

Less than a month after that I had quit my job and was happily married to the principal. I kept his house and he kept me in fluffy petticoats and dresses. I am taking hormones to grow my breasts but he wants me to keep my clitty as he calls it. He has tasked me with helping to lure females to Stepford for "re-education." I am so happy to have this swell job or my name isn't Betty Anderson.

Description

I had moved to the town of Stepford to follow a career opportunity. Little did I know it was all a ruse to get one of their rich bachelors his ideal wife. You see he had a thing for women with a little extra in their panties if you catch my drift.

That's where I came in; a fairly androgynous if not slightly effeminate man with no job prospects and no family to come looking for me if I happened to disappear. So I was offered a teaching job at the local high school where he was the principal. I thought it a little strange when I was required to wear a three-piece suit and the few female teachers were all in hobble skirts or petticoats. It was even weirder when the students arrived dressed like teeny-boppers straight out of a 1950s rom-com.

Things only got weirder the principal spent an extraordinary amount of time in my classroom. He advised music and hygiene products which I ended up using. Over a few weeks I found my suits stopped fitting and I was starting to wonder what a nice dress would feel like. A couple weeks after that I was showing up to work in those dresses and had even agreed to a date with the principal.

Less than a month after that I had quit my job and was happily married to the principal. I kept his house and he kept me in fluffy petticoats and dresses. I am taking hormones to grow my breasts but he wants me to keep my clitty as he calls it. He has tasked me with helping to lure females to Stepford for "re-education." I am so happy to have this swell job or my name isn't Betty Anderson.