Frank #4 (Housewife)

As Frank puttered around the kitchen, Catherine pondered my accusation. "You know," she said after a pause, "maybe Frank has been doing a lot of the chores the last few years. He does take care of the kids a lot, and I've just been so caught up in work that I hardly get time to see them anymore."

"Of course you have, it happens to us all. But it isn't something to get upset about. Frank seems to enjoy playing 'mom', doesn't he?"

Catherine pondered that.

"When was the last time you cooked, Catherine?"

She thought about it. She could have sworn it was the previous day, but now that she thought about it, she couldn't remember cooking in years. "Well, Frank always seemed to like it, so I guess we just got into the habit of him doing all the cooking. He really has gotten very skilled. Yesterday he made a delicious beef wellington and a wonderful apple pie. Apparently he spent hours on it."

Frank began humming a little tune from the kitchen.

"Well, do you do any of the ironing? vacuuming? shopping?"

Catherine was drawing a blank. "I... I don't think so. No, I mean... I don't. That's Frank's job. I bring home the bacon, and he keeps the house." She was more sure of it now.

"That's awfully progressive of you two. Normally I'd assume the man would be the breadwinner."

Catherine paused, considering. "Oh, well, Frank doesn't really conform to those kinds of gender norms. He doesn't really go by Frank, either."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I feigned embarrassment. "Does he prefer Francine?"

"Oh no, that sounds like a grandmother!" Catherine smiled. "We chose Evelyn. It fit her very well."

A few minutes later, Frank/Evelyn emerged from the kitchen, bearing a flowery dish of cherry tarts. His red pants had morphed into a red swing dress, and his hair had been dyed to match. About the only trace of his masculinity left was the very male dick concealed under all those ruffles.

"I hope you all enjoy these, I got the recipe from a Betty Crocker book. It's so easy to make!" Frank/Evelyn chirped.

We all took some off the plate. They were indeed delicious. "Fr- I mean, Evelyn, they are excellent. You really do make a good housewife for Catherine."

Frank beamed, winking and blowing a kiss at her wife. He loved the compliment. It had not been his dream at first to find a woman who would turn her into a voluptuous housewife.

I altered the family timeline a bit more, adjusting things for Frank/Evelyn. A moment ago, she had thought she was 45, the same age as her wife, but it must have been some weird passing deja vu. Frank remembered meeting Catherine in highschool, when Catherine was a teacher there and she was still a male student. They'd married when he graduated, and she'd already had two daughters by that point. Evelyn giggled internally, of course she was still only 37.

When they married, things were rocky at first, since Frank had still felt like he should be the man of the house. Catherine worked very hard to begin manipulating him, changing things gradually, month by month. He didn't even notice most of them until years later. At first, he'd felt despair when it seemed like no one called him back when he applied for jobs. Catherine faked anger, knowing she'd been blocking most calls to his phone, and demanded he contribute to their family in some way. At first, it had been a few chores. But his responsibilities at home grew to caring for the kids (who weren't much younger than him in the girls' case) and doing all of the cooking.

He'd gotten comfortable in the role of stay at home dad after a few years, but he'd gradually started to notice changes in his body and attitudes. His skin felt softer, and he wasn't sure, but his chest seemed to be slightly growing. His wife complained about his body hair, so he'd had it completely lazered off.

It wasn't until his breasts were small handfuls that he had the courage to confront Catherine about it. Her older wife revealed she'd been sneaking hormone pills into his coffee every day, and threw out most of his more masculine clothes. By then he had been so emotionally manipulated that he didn't have the resolve to resist. Catherine took it another step and started encouraging him to wear a bra under his shirts, and he'd gotten used to that too. He started to appreciate the support it gave his enlarging breasts as they continued to grow.

As their marriage went on, Frank became completely submissive to Catherine's wishes. One Saturday a few years ago, he'd come home from grocery shopping to a closet with no pants at all; dresses and skirts had replaced everything. He'd not even fought it by that point, just cooed over the colors and styles. The large implants and voice surgery only confirmed the process: he was for all points but one, the housewife.

I smirked, the taste of cherries still on my tongue. "I just want to know, how do things work out in the bedroom? You know, since you still have your 'male parts.' Any problems?"