[TG] Linda’s Perfect Wife - Part 2 (Patreon)

Previous chapters can be found here!

Linda smiled to herself; things were going exactly according to plan. A few weeks of amazing sex in a negligee and Christopher was practically begging to put it on each night. She almost wondered if he could get hard without it. It was so simple to make him think the way she wanted.

She would stroke him in front of that mirror at least three times a week, saying the words ‘good girl’ over and over until they were buried deep down in his brain right to the subconscious. It was time to see just how deep that programming had gone before she took to the next step.

She waited until dinner one night to take action, they were halfway through their pasta when she leaned back and said, in a rather bored tone.

“I think we should fire the chef.”

Christopher blinked in surprise.

“Do you not like what he’s making?”

“No it’s not that I just think it’s a waste of money.” Linda sighed, “I mean, you’re home all day anyway, and you are always talking about ways to keep busy what with all this talk of gaming or getting a job. Why don't you take over cooking?”

Christopher looked unsure; he’d grown up with a silver spoon in his mouth of course, the most he’d ever cooked was making toast. But she wanted the perfect housewife, and that meant home cooked meals she could use to show off the guests one day.

“I will keep the chef on retainer to teach you.” She said, “In fact I have already spoken to him and he’s making a list of all my favourite recipes. Well, our favourite recipes I should say.”

She smiled coyly.

“It is such luck that we happen to have the same taste in everything.”

Christopher looked conflicted for a moment before he nodded.

“It would be nice to learn to cook.” he said after a moment, “I was reading a blog online the other day that said having a creative hobby is good for the soul.”

“Yes of course!” Linda nodded, “And I do want you happy dear, you know that.”

He smiled like a lovesick puppy, God, how had this man survived until she came along. He was practically a doormat. She could not believe it had taken her this long to start properly moulding him. It was almost cruel that he had been born a man, clearly he was supposed to be a simple, submissive housewife, she was practically doing him a favour.

“I am so excited to see what you create.” Linda beamed, “Two weeks should be plenty of time for you to learn a dish to my standards.”

~

I had always lived a life of luxury, surrounded by opulence and privilege. Cooking was never a skill I had to acquire. Hiring a personal chef was Linda's idea originally and since I had grown up with one it just seemed natural. After all, she had very particular taste, she hated anything common or poorly prepared. Our first date she had sent back her food three times before she was satisfied enough to eat. The poor waiter looked ready to tear his hair out and I did feel sympathetic but Linda had explained how wrong I was.

"Some people are afraid to ask for what they want." She said as if it were the most simple thing in the world. "It is a chef's job to prepare food, am I not doing him a favour ensuring he does it properly? After tonight I guarantee you he will think twice before sending out undercooked steak."

The fact that she even trusted me to cook for us showed just how much she trusted me; but it was also a lot of pressure. Luckily, Marco had been cooking for us for years, so I at least had that as a good starting point.

"No time to do most of the basics." Marco sighed, "Two weeks to learn a single dish well enough to serve to miss Linda is...not a lot of time."

"She's not that fussy surely." I asked, immediately feeling guilty for calling her fussy, she wasn't fussy, she just had high standards.

Marco simply gave me a look that was somewhere between sympathetic and judgmental before gathering a load of tools and ingredients.  Our first lesson was on Beef Wellington, a dish that Lina absolutely adored. As Marco began explaining the intricacies of preparing the beef, searing it just right, and encasing it in delicate puff pastry, my mind began to spin. I had never even flipped a pancake before, let alone tackled a dish of this magnitude. I didn't even realise there were different kinds of pastry! How many different ways could water and flour be used?

Chef Marco was patient, guiding me step by step, but the kitchen felt like a foreign land where utensils and ingredients conspired against me. The kitchen timer pinged, indicating it was time to check the Wellington. I opened the oven, and there it was—a sad, deflated pastry with overcooked meat inside. Marco's smile wavered slightly, though he reassured me that it was all part of the learning process. Though I couldn't help but sense his dread; if I couldn't cook a dish to Linda's liking how would that reflect on him?

I worked tirelessly for weeks; moving from recipe to recipe trying to find something I could prepare in time for Linda's deadline. I couldn't bear the idea of letting her down, especially after how great things had been between us lately. She had been so loving, spending hours touching my body without asking me to return the favour, the least I could do was cook her dinner for God's sake.

Each lesson brought a new level of complexity, and I struggled to keep up. Coq au Vin turned into a game of "guess the level of doneness," and my attempt at creating a Crème Brûlée resulted in a scorched sugary mess. In the end we returned to the beef wellington, somehow that deflated burned mess was my best work. Linda came home each night from work talking about how much she was looking forward to my dish; even going so far as to buy me a subscription to several high end foodie magazines full of recipes for me to try once I 'found my feet'. Her picks circled in red pen for my own ease.

"That way you don't have to stress about picking things out yourself, I know how overwhelmed you can get." She cooed, patting me on the head before pulling out the negligee and pushing me toward the mirror.

Fuck, all she had to do was show it to me now and I got hard. And the pressure continued to rise as the days ticked down to the two week mark. Each night she brought me to orgasm, saying what a good girl I was in the kitchen, how she couldn't wait to taste more than my skin.

Finally, the day came, Linda had gone to work and even gave me a peck on the cheek, saying how excited she was to have a proper home cooked meal again. I spent the day working, making sure every detail of the meal was perfect, the ingredients the highest quality, even managed to set the table myself and ordered flowers as a centrepiece.

So I was shocked when Linda arrived home two hours before dinner was set to be served with a package under her arm.

“A little gift, for my little chef.” She joked.

“Oh Linda, you shouldn’t have.” I beamed, whatever had inspired this more caring change in my wife, I hoped it would never go away.

Then I opened the bag and felt my stomach twist. It was an apron; pink and white checks and a frilly edge adorning the sides.

“Oh…you really shouldn’t have.”

Linda didn't seem to hear the disappointment in my voice though, she had already plucked the apron from my fingers and was fastening it around my waist and shoulders.

“Nonsense, it’s designer, classic really. It reminds me of those vintage ads from the fifties of the mother’s leaning over a roast in the oven.” She sighed, “Such a good time.”

She formed the ties into a large bow at my back and I felt my cheeks start to match the apron’s colour.

“I’m so pleased you like it.” Linda clapped her hands together, “And you look so cute!”

My gut swirled; getting a compliment from Linda used to be so rare that I still instinctually lapped up every bit of praise she gave me. But being called cute wasn't exactly a compliment, not really.

“It’s not really a compliment for a guy to be called cute.” i stammered, “um, maybe-”

“Aw, but you’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

The effect was instant and embarrassing, the front of the apron formed a tent as I grew hard; hard enough that even my pants couldn’t hide it. I flushed deep red but Linda only hushed me, cupping my face softly but firmly so I had no choice but to meet her gaze.

“Don’t be embarrassed sweetie.” She purred, “I know good girls aren’t supposed to be turned on so easily, but I’ll forgive you.”

“I…uh…”

My brain felt like mush; without meaning to I was remembering the mirror and watching her stroke me in that negligee. A sudden beep broke the moment as the oven announced it was heated and Linda gave a quick pat on the head.

“I’d better let you get to it! I hope you impress me!” Linda grinned, “I’ll be sure to reward you well if you do, good girl.”

And just like that she walked out of the kitchen as if she hadn't just completely upended everything. My brain felt like a shuddery mess. The words ‘good girl’ were still swirling in my brain as I started going through the motions of preparing dinner. I was thankful for all Marco’s lessons; I’d made this dish so many times that I could do it in my sleep.

When I finally served out two plates and carried them to the table I felt a sense of anticipation mounting, I needed to know what that reward was. The way she’d smiled, I knew it had to be something sexual and even though two hours had passed between the apron gift and the meal I was still semi hard. It was painful and I so badly wanted to get off.

I held my breath as she cut into the Wellington and let it out in relief when she smiled. Silently we ate; without her making a single comment which I knew was a good sign; if she found something subpar, she would have said something which meant at the very least, I had done a satisfactory job. I still found myself on the edge of my seat though, desperate for more praise.

Linda crossed her knife and fork over the empty plate and dabbed her lips with a napkin before standing; without thinking I stood too. The air felt electric.

“You did wonderfully, I knew you could.” She smiled, “I look forward to eating your home cooked meals every night.”

It might have sounded odd to anybody else but I knew Linda; for her to trust me with her food every night…that was a huge show of trust and pleasure bloomed in my core at having pleased her. She stepped toward me, her eyes full of a familiar hunger.

“Take everything but the apron off.” She ordered, “It’s time for your reward.”

I shuddered with want, not even questioning keeping the apron on. If anything it was less embarrassing than the negligee had been in the beginning, before I learned to love it. Once I was naked I refastened the apron around my neck and middle, feeling the soft fabric against my naked skin; I was already fully hard once more. I expected something similar to before, for Linda to reach beneath the front of the apron and stroke me but instead she unbuttoned her suit pants and dropped them, along with her panties to the floor.

“I want you on your knees.”

“W-what?”

“Get me off with your mouth, on your knees.” She said more firmly, “It’s been a big day at work and I could use the stress release.”

I swallowed; I’d eaten Linda out during our marriage of course but usually in bed, never with her standing and me on the floor. That paired with the apron conjured images of men getting blow jobs from their maids and secretaries and the idea made me flush with humiliation. Before I could argue though Linda’s grip on my face grew tighter.

“Good girls please their wives, I have made you cum so many times these last few weeks. Now it’s my turn.”

My legs folded and I was on the ground before I could think; good girl, she called me good girl. It made precum bud at the tip of my cock. I leaned forward and pressed my tongue into her folds, licking at her clit and drinking in the sound of her moan. It had been a long time since I’d forced such a sound out of Linda and it made me all the more eager to continue.

A hand came to rest at the back of my head, holding me in place as I thrust my tongue along her folds before swirling it around her clit once more.

“Oh yeah…that’s a good girl, my good girl.” Linda groaned.

My breathing was getting raggard as she tightened her nails into my hair. Each time she uttered those words I felt my balls tighten, I thought getting off on words alone was impossible but here she was about to push me over the edge with simple praise and delicious moans.

My hips bucked under the apron and I could feel myself shifting on the carpet slightly, the burn reached my knees but I didn't care. I was so close, just one more bit of praise would do it. I redoubled my efforts, sucking on her clit hard until finally I felt her whole body shudder.

“Uuuuuhhhh! Yes, good girl! Good girl!”

I came, a thick stain seeping through to the front of the apron within seconds as I followed my wife. Finally I broke away, my mouth and chin covered in her juices and my mind a haze of pleasure and residual embarrassment; if the guys back in college could see me now, what would they think?

“That was very good.” Linda praised, running her fingers through my hair, “I think I could get used to this.”

~

We fell into a new evening routine. WHen Linda came home I would serve up dinner and if I did a good enough job, she rewarded me with yet another round in either the apron or the negligee. Most of the time I would get on my knees and eat her out as well; our sex lives had never been more wild or active.

On those few nights my cooking wasn't up to scratch though, I was punished. No sex whatsoever and Linda would stick by my side all night to ensure masturbation was impossible. After weeks of my body being primed to expect praise and pleasure it was practically torture to go without either.

Linda started buying more outfits as well; A line dresses, maid costumes, more lingerie. All in women’s styles; all for me. She started to refer to me as her wife, even when we weren't role playing and every time I thought of putting a stop to it a bit of praise here, or the sight of myself in one of the outfits would stop me. It just felt too good and well…it wasn't like anybody had to know.

“I think you need to start putting a bit more work into your appearance.” Linda announced suddenly after our post dinner sex one night. “I always do my best to look professional in the office, I think you could do the same.”

“But I don't go to an office.” I blinked in surprise, still a little dazed from the amazing orgasm.

“No, silly woman.” She giggled, taking hold of my cock once more and slowly stroking it. “Your office is home. Wouldn’t it be nice for me, after a stressful day of business, to come home and see my lovely wife all dolled up for me before dinner? Then you wouldn't have to strip down and put your apron back on for your reward either.”

I swallowed, my balls were starting to go tight.

“Y-you mean…ahhhh, one the dresses?”

“Yes.” Linda purred, “And a bit of makeup, a little lipstick wouldn't hurt.”

“But I uhhhh, ahhhh I don’t k-know how to …oh fuck, I am close.”

“I know sweetie. But no cumming till you agree, I’ll even help you.”

“Oh-okay. Yes, I’ll d-do it just p-please…”

Linda giggled and tightened her grip.

“You sound so lovely when you’re desperate and close to the edge.”

“Uuuhhhh…ahhhhh!”

“That’s it, come for me like a good girl.”

I did.

~

And thus, I found myself sitting at Linda’s makeup table, looking at my own bewildered expression as Linda explained how to apply lipstick so it didn't smudge.

“Now smack your lips.”

I did, following with a pout just as she had instructed. The bright red lipstick shaped my mouth into something more feminine, paired with the mascara and eyeshadow you could almost believe I was one.

“You look lovely.” Linda smiled, “Now, wash it off and practice. I want to see you dressed to the nines when I get home tonight. I’ve bought you several dresses, I am sure you will be able to put a good ensemble together.”

~

I searched through all the outfits Linda had provided me; there were so many, did I really need such a selection for our private little game? I practically had an entire wardrobe. I needed something to impress her; she was right, putting a little effort into my appearance wasn't too much to ask.

I shivered, remembering the wonderful rewards cooking dinner earned me; would dressing up earn me even more? Inspired and thinking more with my cock than brain I selected a slink little red number with a short hemline and plunging neckline that would have shown ample cleavage…if I had any. I felt a sudden pang, no matter how well I dressed up my body would never allow me to fully commit to the fantasy. Still, I had to try.

I compensated for my lack of womanly curves with bright red lipstick and heavy eyeshadow. Following the tutorials Linda had found me to the letter. Once I was satisfied I went to prepare dinner, skin buzzing with anticipation of Linda’s return.

When I heard the key in the lock I immediately rushed to greet her, my apron tied in a neat bow and a charming smile on my face; every man’s dream wife. I wasn't sure exactly what to expect, but it wasn't a furrowed brow and pressed lips.

“What’s this?” Linda asked, crossing her arms is disapproval.

Shame spiked through me, I’d fucked up.

“I said I wanted my wife to look nice, not like a tart. Why are you dressed for clubbing with twenty year olds? And that make up is far too much.”

It was so obvious when she pointed it out; I did look like a try hard.

“No rewards for you tonight.” Linda sighed sadly, “I was hoping to give you a new present too.”

My heart squeezed, my cock twitched, I was already craving her touch and she knew it. But I’d made a mistake, I knew I deserved to be punished.

“Oh baby, don't pout.” Linda cooed, holding my face gently, “You look so pretty when you smile, nobody likes a scowling wife. Now, put on a nice smile and serve me my dinner.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s my good girl.”

~

As the days continued; I got better at doing my makeup and picking outfits. I was even starting to grow my hair to better suit my new feminine outfits, since I wore them more often than not now. They just felt right; whenever I dressed in my old clothes Linda practically ignored me and that hurt more than anything. I lived for her praise, I lived to please her. I wasn't sure how things had shifted quite this far but I couldn't stop myself. All Linda had to do was say those two magic words and I was putty in her hands. Each night she reinforced that programming, making me all the more susceptible to it.

I smoothed out the fabric of the dress I had chosen tonight, a deep blue that Tina always said brought out the colour of my eyes. I adjusted the neckline slightly, hoping it was just right – not too revealing, but not too conservative either. Tina had a keen eye for detail, and I wanted to make sure everything met her expectations; then maybe I would finally earn that reward she had been promising.

I gave my makeup the same level of devotion, spending almost a full hour prior to making dinner getting it right. I carefully applied each layer, blending the shades to perfection. Tina preferred a more natural look, but natural didn't mean simple. It meant flawlessly enhancing my features while making it seem effortless. My hands trembled as I traced the eyeliner along my lids, trying to mimic the cat-eye style that Tina admired.

With a final touch of lipstick, I stepped back and took a deep breath. I glanced at the clock – Tina would be home any minute now. My heart raced faster as I imagined her scrutinising every detail of my appearance. As she walked in I watched as her eyes dipped down and then back up to my face before smiling; a knot in my stomach unravelled itself.

“Beautiful, exactly what I am after, dear.” She praised, “The perfect wife.”

I knew being referred to as a wife should have made me feel emasculated but honestly it only made me happy at this point.

“I’m so happy, you are pleased. I made leek risotto for dinner and I even baked a cake.”

“How marvellous, exactly what I feel like. My good girl always knows how to please me.” Linda gave me a peck on the cheek, “I think you’ve earned that reward now.”

I shivered; what could it be? A new dress? Hopefully a new negligee? Something even sexier?

“First, let’s eat dinner.”

A small, desperate squeak escaped me and Linda laughed good naturedly.

“Oh my poor desperate wifey, don't you worry I will make sure it’s worth the wait.”

Serving and eating dinner was torture, I was rock hard the whole time, desperately trying not to eat too fast. Linda hated bad table manners, but keeping my bites dainty and neat was so difficult when my hands were trembling in anticipation.

Finally, we finished and I made a speedy work of cleaning up the kitchen before racing to the bedroom where my new present was laid out waiting for me. It was a new negligee; black and satin with hot pink lace, but that wasn’t all. Two skin coloured patches of silicone sat upon the bed; a perfect replica of a pair of breasts and a pussy, they were so detailed they almost looked real.

I knew what they were in an instant and felt a strange swirl of emotions pass through me; desire, embarrassment, trepidation, need. Despite everything I knew should have been true, I wanted them. I was already picturing myself in all the outfits Linda had provided me, but without saggy, open chests and a strange bulge in the front. No longer would I feel half finished as a woman, I would be beautiful, with full breasts and no cock to break the illusion.

“You like them, don’t you?” Linda said, leaning over my shoulders. I could feel her nails pressing into them as she gripped me tight.

“Yes.” I whimpered.

“Are you ready to finally look the part?”

“God yes.”

There was no hesitation; I needed this, already I was so horny and my cock was betraying me with its mere existence. I needed this, I needed it so badly. I stood still and obedient as Linda placed the new forms on me, they moulded to my skin perfectly to the point that I could barely tell where they started and I finished. Then I stepped into the new negligee.

“Ready to see?” Linda smiled and I nodded, allowing her to turn me to face the mirror. I couldn’t help it; I gasped.

Before me was a beautiful woman with a full chest and a face full of tasteful makeup. I barely recognised myself! I ran a finger along my front, pushing the new nightgown into the fake folds that were covering my cock and moaned. Even though they were fake I swore I could feel the pleasure of penetration. Linda simply smiled.

“There, my perfect good girl. Now get on your knees.”

Looking for another chapter of this story? Head over to the Directory where all other links are available!