Submissive housewife for a month by Incognito42

"Have you ever wondered how it is to be a woman?" That was how this all had started. An innocent enough question from your colleague, Samantha. You had, you answered. Of course you had. All men have wondered, as all women have wondered how it is to be a man.

"Do you want to find out?" The second question was unexpected. What she told you next was crazy. She had these medallions, she told you, that could temporarily swap the bodies of two people. Both needed to be willing. If you wanted to, she was willing to let you try it with her. One month as her.

Even if you let yourself entertain the idea that the medallion was actually real, you thought a month sounded a bit too long, but she told you it was a month or nothing. You'd need a month to get to experience everything about being a woman, she said with a smirk. And the medallions only worked during the two days before and after a full moon.

"But... how could I live your life for a month? Or you mine?" Work was one thing. You both had reasonably similar jobs, in the same company, so that wouldn't be much of a problem. And her position was only parttime, so you would get more free time as well. But her private life? You knew a bit about her, but not enough to impersonate her for a month.

"It's magic, Samuel. When you're in my body, you'll also sort of have access to my mind. It'll help you, guide you."

"You've done this before?"

"Of course. Otherwise I wouldn't believe it was possible. But never with a man, only with a girl friend."

"But... your husband? I'm not gay, and..."

"If my previous experiences has shown me anything, that won't be a problem either. That girl friend of mine was a lesbian, and while in her body... you could say I gained a new appreciation for the female form. Maybe not quite as she experienced it, but enough that I didn't have a problem experimenting with girls for the weekend we swapped. And, anyways, he'll be in the loop. He knows about the necklaces, as well, and I'll make sure he'll give you a gentle introduction to being me." She was silent for a moment. "You don't have to decide today. Go home, think about it, and the offer will be standing tomorrow."

The rest of the day, you did think about it. It was all crazy talk, but... if it was real, if she actually had a pair of magic necklaces that could do what she said, this would be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. A once-in-a-billion-lifetimes opportunity. So, the next day, you agreed. "I have to add, I don't believe you. But I'm willing to entertain your madness, and try."

Turned out, it wasn't madness. At the end of the workday, the two of you met up. She handed you a necklace. "Put this on. Now, try to imagine yourself in my body. Feel it. Feel my long hair tickling your neck. My breasts on your chest. My feminine curves. My softness. Focus on what is different between the two of us. Do you feel it?" Yes. You did. Like a phantom feeling, it was there, in the back of your mind. "Focus on my crotch. Sense my entire body. Now close your eyes." The sensations grew stronger. Without the visual cues, without seeing her in front of you, it was easier to imagine. Easier to sense. "Focus. And..."

"...open your eyes, Sam." Her voice was different. Masculine. Your voice. Your eyes shot open, and you looked up at her. At him. At you.

"It...worked?" Your voice, as well. It was her voice.

"Yes. Samantha. I said it would."

"I'm... you?" You brought your hand to your face, touched it. Your skin was soft and without a hint of stubble. Your hand, in your vision, feminine and slender. "I'm Samantha," you said, still in awe, but now sounding like you started to believe it.

"Yes. Until the next full moon."

Back 'home', at Samanthas place, you were in for a bit of a surprise. You had overheard Samantha confess that she and Mark, her husband - your husband, now - had what she had called a 'traditional marriage', where the man was in charge, but it went much further than you had ever dreamed it did. It went to a biblical "a wife is her husbands property" level of power exchange.

Mark had been gentle at first. He'd suspended a lot of the rules he and Samantha had, for you. You were allowed clothing in the house, when you were alone with him. You weren't expected to be sexually available to him. But he did expect you to call him 'Sir'. He did expect you to obey him, to attend to him, to keep the house, while he lounged and relaxed. And to your surprise, you found that it excited you. Being under his thumb like this was... arousing. You couldn't deny it, being treated like a woman was treated 50 years ago, 100 years ago - as a second-class human - made you damp between your legs. Was this how Samantha felt, too? It had to be. Of course it had. If she didn't, she wouldn't have agreed to this sort of relationship. And you'd never entertained such submissive ideas before, as a man.

The first night, when the two of you went to bed, he didn't do anything. Even if he was a strict husband, he didn't **** himself on you. By the second night, when once again he acted a gentleman, despite obviously wanting to take you, you almost regretted that he didn't. Nor the third. The fourth day, you decided it was time to act.

When he arrived home from work, you greeted him in the nude. "I want to explore my role as your wife more fully," you told him. He took the hint, and soon you found yourself under him, your legs spread. He slid inside your sopping wet cunt without any resistance, as he told you demeaning things about how compliant and weak you were, about how this was your proper place, beneath him. About how he'd put a baby in your belly, and make you a good little housewife. When you felt him spurt his seed deep inside you, you shuddered and moaned as you had your first female orgasm. It wouldn't be the last of the month.

About three weeks in, you started feeling a bit of a concern. You'd been Samantha for long enough, now, that you realised something was off. Your period! You should have begun your period several days ago. A quick trip to the store later, and a nervous couple of minutes on the toilet later, your suspicions were confirmed. You were pregnant.

Until now, you hadn't considered the possibility. You'd just assumed that Samantha was on birth control. After all, you knew she wanted to focus more on her career, and she had told you she wasn't ready for kids. Unlike you - though, of course, as a man, becoming a parent would have had less of an impact. A shadow of a memory emerged in your mind - you'd finally given in to your husband, and agreed to go off the pill. No! Not you. Samantha, you reminded yourself. That had been Samantha's choice, as Samantha. Before you became Samantha.

Naturally, you told Mark the moment he came home. Your relationship to him had become second nature by now. It felt natural, correct, to tell him. He was your husband, and as the man of the house he made the decisions, so he needed to know. He beamed with happiness, hugged you tight and kissed you deeply. "Thank you, dear," he told you. He also told you that would mean that you would put in your resignation at work, and prepare to become a housewife.

"That Samantha will have to resign, you mean, Sir" you told him, breaking character for the first time in weeks.

"Of course. But since right now, you're Samantha, I'm telling you to deliver your resignation on Monday. With your remaining vacation days, that means you'll have just enough time left at work for the two of you to switch back before Samantha leaves."

Over the weekend, back at work, you also told Samuel, though you didn't tell him about the resignation. He smiled, and congratulated you. "I didn't know you were trying for a child!" he exclaimed, in mock surprise.

"Of course you knew," you whispered. "You could have told me..."

"But where would be the fun in that? Tell me, how do you feel about it?"

"I don't have to feel anything about it. It isn't really mine. It's yours. In a week, we'll be back in our own bodies."

His question did make you think about it. You had always wanted children, down the line. And now... no, this wasn't your child, this wasn't even your body. You didn't want to become a mother. Did you? No.

But a week later, when the two of you tried to switch back, the medallions wouldn't work. Try as you might, trying to feel his body across the room, you couldn't quite reach out for it. You felt it, you got the phantom sensations, but when you opened your eyes you were back in Samanthas body. After several tries, you gave up.

"Does this mean you want to stay as Samantha?" Samuel asked, almost incredulous.

"No!" you exclaimed. "I... I don't think so."

"Look, it's okay, Samantha. I never really wanted to become a mother, you know. I don't mind the idea of becoming a parent, but as much as the relationship with Mark excited me, I didn't really want to become his image of a perfect housewife. I wanted a career. I'm okay with it. If you want to go on being Samantha, I'm okay with being Samuel."

"I... It's you! You don't want to switch back! You tricked me! You bastard!"

"...Yeah. I did," he admitted. "And there's no way back, now." He took the necklace from you, and left you there, in the empty office, on your last day at work.

A few months later, you had resigned yourself to your fate. You were Samantha, and there was no way back. Your life had its upsides. The sex was still amazing, and you'd found an adoring, deep love for Mark. Submitting to him gave you enormous joy. Even the idea of becoming a mother was becoming less alien. The life growing inside you was, so to speak, growing on you.

Mark caught you at the kitchen counter, deep in thought. "You never did switch back, did you?" You looked up at him, confused. "You and Samuel. You used to be Samuel, didn't you?"

You lowered your head, casting your eyes on the floor. Naked, with swelling breasts and a growing stomach, you whispered back, "How did you know, Sir?"

"I've suspected for a long time. Samantha always resisted having children, always resisted the idea of submitting herself completely to me. She always had a conflict inside her, between the part of her that wanted to submit and the part of her that wanted to be free. When the two of you switched, I didn't sense that same conflict in you. Probably because you never thought it would be permanent. And I knew the necklaces would not allow you two to switch back if either of you didn't want to. It was him, wasn't it?"

You looked up at him, nodding, tears beginning to form in your eyes. "Don't cry. You became a better Samantha, after you switched. And that better Samantha never left after you quit your job." He embraced you, kissed your tears away. "I don't care that you're not the Samantha I first knew. I love you more, now, than I did before."

"Don't you care that I was tricked into this position, Sir?" you asked him.

He hoisted you up on the kitchen bench, spread your legs apart. Despite your tears, you did not struggle. It was your duty to be available to him. Your body reacted instinctually, your arousal flaring up. It wasn't the first time he'd fucked you while you were crying, and if you were honest with yourself, each time he had done so, you had felt better afterwards.

"No," he said as he entered you. "Because, as I told you the first time we had sex, this is your proper position. Whoever you were, you are now my wife. And as is proper for a wife, you will defer to my will. How you feel about it is of secondary importance, though I know you crave to serve. Unlike that other Samantha, you have accepted your role beneath me fully. Embraced it, even. You love it. You love being a weak and compliant girl. You love to be my wife. You love me. And you want nothing but what I want, which includes being this little housewife with her husbands child growing inside her."

With those words, delivered so matter-of-factly, you're driven over the edge. The orgasm washes over you as you the tears run down your chin. Tears of joy. "You're right, Sir. I love you, Sir," you whisper to him when you've come down, holding him tight as he caresses you lovingly, his softening member still inside you.