This is a characteristic article from Forced Womanhood magazine [#34, 2002].
Dear Sirs or Ladies:
We are two brothers who own a small regional chain of dry-cleaning establishments who married redheaded twin sisters, Janet and Trish. Janet had been married before and ended up with most of her husband's money, and my brother and I were warned they could be golddiggers. They were both very beautiful and sexy, but they said that they didn't believe in sex until the wedding night. On the other hand, they were so worried something might happen to us that they insisted we both make a prenuptial deposit at a sperm bank. So we were all married in a lavish double ceremony, and then left for a vacation to Thailand.
For some reason, my brother and I fell asleep early in Bangkok on the wedding night. When we woke up, we thought it was the next morning. But we were soon to discover it was more than a month later. We also discovered something else, we were strapped to hospital beds.
Our brides came in, and that's when they dropped the bombshell. They announced that while we had been unconscious, they had had sex change surgery performed on us and turned us into women. We didn't believe them at first, but then they pulled down the sheets and showed each of us that we had been given big, protruding breasts and our manhood was gone forever, replaced by labial lips and a vaginal cavity. Then they held up mirrors and we saw that our faces had been changed too, that now no one who knew us would recognize us, our features were so perfectly feminized.
Our new wives then gave us two choices. They could refuse to pay for the surgery. In which case my brother and I would be sold by the doctor to a local house of prostitution. Or we could agree to sign over our business, property and bank accounts to them and live with them as their maids. Then to put their point across, they touched our pussies between our legs and tweaked our bulging breasts. My brother and I were so shaken by finding we could never be men again, and at the thought of being forced into prostitution to men, that we agreed to accept our wives' terms and they produced the necessary papers immediately.
Now they go to work and run our companies while we stay at home and clean the house and shop and cook the meals. We have to wear maid's outfits all the time (to remind us of our place, they say), so short we can't sit down without showing our panties (so we have to keep standing-that's to remind us our job is to wait on them), while we totter around with mops and dust brooms in black patent leather pumps with six-inch stacked high-heels (to remind us to take small, lady-like steps), all of which leave yards of nylon showing between them and the hems of our skirts (to remind us we are women and sex objects).
We have to spend an hour every morning putting on our makeup. And if our wives are dissatisfied with the result, they make us do it all over again until they think it is perfect. We have to get out of bed every morning two hours before they do, to put on our make up, dress and prepare their breakfasts and baths. We wait on them all day long, serve them their dinner and then eat our own at a small table in the kitchen. We go to bed at night an hour after they do, to finish all our chores, and sleep in small trundle beds at the feet of their beds.
We also found out why our wives insisted on our visit to that sperm bank. Each has used our sperm to become pregnant, and as soon as the baby was delivered, they were given to us husbands (or are we the wives now?), and we have had to diaper, nurse and raise them ever since. That's right, I said nurse! Our wives make us take pills prescribed by the doctor that make us lactate! You don't know what true humiliation is for a man until his breasts swell up until they ache with milk, and he is relieved to have a baby suckle at his nipple.
You might see my brother and I some time. We have to walk the babies every day, But you'd never know it was us.
We look just like two buxom, shapely young matrons pushing a pair of strollers through the mall!
That's all I have time to write now, I have to go and make my wife's lunch.
