Trying to Save a Marriage


By Rita Chante

Author’s note: When I was married I often dreamed of doing the fantasy described as a gifted spirit in this copyrighted story. However, fate has denied me that opportunity. On the other hand, that same reality taught me to be careful what you wish for. The main character in this story has this problem as well. Please realize that while all the physical locations and many of the masks described in this story are absolutely accurate and real, the characters are fictitious or so I was lead to believe.

Fred had masked for years. His favorite day of the year was Halloween. It was the only day of the year in the United States that masking was acceptable, as long as it was “the right kind” of masking. Even on Halloween it was weird to alter your identity to another gender or become another person. It was all right to be a pirate, the creature from outer space, or some phony Hollywood version of Dracula.

Thus, most of Fred’s masking was done in private with the doors locked. He even hid his masks in nondescript boxes in the garage with the Halloween and Christmas decorations. A couple of his favorite masks were hidden under his shoes at the back of his closet. He stored his favorite dresses on hangers inside and/or under his wife’s big “winter coats”, on her side of the closet. He mixed his “fantasy pumps and boots” in with the shoes that she kept at the back of her side of the closet but rarely used because they were “out of style”. Because of this improper storage, some of his precious masks had deteriorated or become distorted, but he thought that was a very small price to pay for a closet masker.

The only “public” feature of Fred’s masking behavior was his frequent trips to all of the theatrical supply shops where he would try on, and often buy, the latest models. The store staff considered Fred one of their “mask collectors.” But Fred’s real passion was making his own female masks and torsos. He had a small library of books written by FX experts on the subject. He had every web site related to masking book marked on his computer. Most of the sites were little more that commercial Halloween sites, but Fred liked to look at the online catalogues, anyway.

Fred had never considered himself an artist, so buying the supplies to start making his masks had been difficult and his first results were thrown away. All this had been done in total secrecy, of course. When he found the Female Masking Page on the Internet by Marti and Kerry, Fred was ecstatic. At least now, he wasn’t alone. Fred decided to create a female persona and a screen name that he called, “Lisa”. He didn’t know why he picked that name, he just liked it and had tried to name his daughter Lisa, but his wife Marge had over ruled him and called her Ruth instead. Fred’s closet “Lisa” was becoming his only safe haven in a storm of domestic discontent. As he began reading the literature in the Masks in Fiction Link, Fred was determined to go to Maskon and make Marge do it with him. But of course, that idea had the same chance of happening, that a six-inch wide snowball had of surviving in Hell for a thousand years.

It was a well known fact in the family that Marge more or less told Fred what to do. He was the classic hen pecked husband. Fred had always wanted to do a week somewhere with Marge where she did his bidding instead of the other way around. This is not to say that Fred was unhappy in his relationship with Marge. He thought that he really loved her, depended on her good judgment, and felt he would be lost without her. For the most part, as long as he could secretly maintain “Lisa”, he didn’t even mind doing Marge’s bidding. It would have been nice, however, if Marge just said “please” once and a while. He even believed that Marge was unaware of the way she dominated their relationship as well as the lives of their children.

“Lisa” had a few discussions on the Internet female masking chat rooms and found out that she wasn’t the only one in her predicament. In addition, her alter ego, Fred, was the boss of his division at work, and was known in that life as a “take charge kind of guy”. He also began to notice levels of rebellion starting up against Marge by the children. He felt that the positions the children were setting forth were correct, but he also wanted to back up his wife. Over the last six months, he had come to feel like a referee in a wrestling match between two of his daughters and his wife. His son had just turned off to almost any thing Marge had to say. To try and resolve this conflict before it got totally out of hand, Fred decided that he would use his new ability to create masks as a tool to rebalance his family and save his marriage. He believed that Marge just needed to learn how to relate better to him and her children while not putting what was left of their basic positive relationship at risk.

To this end, he had the facilities people at the firm build him a twelve-foot by twenty-four foot workshop structure in the backyard of his house. On one end of the workshop was an eight by twelve highly insulated windowless, but well lit, secure closet with racks and shelves to properly store all of his masks and costumes. The space could also double as a dressing room, so he mounted a two- foot by six-foot mirror on the closet door. The other space in the workshop structure measured 12×16 feet. Along the sixteen-foot side, was a sixteen-foot by three-foot bench with cupboards built over it and a small refrigerator freezer built into it. On the other sixteen-foot wall was a deep shop sink, water heater, heat exchanger and storage cabinets. He put some old lounge chairs, a recliner and a computer desk with a desktop PC and telephone out in the shop too. The one four by four window in the shop had a great view of the city. The bench also had a built-in stovetop and a microwave for curing various latex appliances. When facilities had laid in the electric and phone lines, Fred had them put in a generator for a backup power source and lay in a cable line as well. If the shop had a toilet and shower he could have moved into it and left the house entirely to Marge. If worse came to worse, he could use the toilet in the garage or he could always pee in the utility sink.

Once the “workshop” was completed, Fred started the second phase of his plan. On a night when all the children were either at a sleep over or away at camp, Fred took Marge out on a rare date and got her well oiled. When they returned home, for a nightcap, he slipped Marge a “Mickey”. Once he was sure that she was unconscious, he made plaster molds of her face, upper body, hands and arms. He had already made molds of himself. Once he had the molds he practice making masks, gloves and torsos. His first attempts were made using the molds of his own face and body. The resulting masks looked like Mister Potato Head units. However, by his fourth attempt, what resulted were exact duplicates of himself. He then made duplicates of Marge’s face, torso and hands and bonded them to the inside of his torso and mask units. In this manner, when Marge wore the combination body suit, it would fit her physical dimensions on the inside, but replicate his on the outside. With some modification in the back and shoulders, Fred made a reversed set for him. On a whim of the moment, he decided to make a “Lisa”, “Georgia” and “Clara” set for both Marge and him, using the same process. When he was done, Fred had the beginnings of a real collection of original masks, hands, and torsos.

The next trick was to get Marge to consent to reverse rolls with him for some costuming event. If that failed, he would have to figure out some other strategy. He suggested that they try the reverse roll bit for Halloween, but they went as Mickey and Minnie Mouse. Fred consoled himself that at least she “let” him go as Minnie. No matter what he bribed her with, or what logical rationale he gave her, she was dead set against doing a masked gender reversal, or any other of what she labeled as “Fred’s kinky fantasies”. In fact she “punished” him for his suggestions by with holding sex from him. She didn’t even want to hear his proposal for their anniversary, let alone actually going out in public in a mask. He didn’t have the nerve to tell her that he already had made the costumes.

He then read the “Masking Anniversaries” story at the Female Mask site and knew what he had to do. Essentially, what it came down to was to set up a “vacation” for him and Marge, without her knowledge or consent. He would set up a series of behavioral modification activities, using his masking skills for their “anniversary vacation”. To put his plan into action, he went back into the workshop and videoed a series of Marge’s favorite lectures, only instead of Marge doing the lectures, it was Fred in his Marge mask and costume. Fred mimicked Marge so well, that his brother-in-laws often asked him to do it at Family parties. On their “vacation”, Marge would get an opportunity to watch herself at her worst, over and over, again. He enlisted the aid of his sister-in-law, Clara, to help because she regarded the alleged anniversary trip as a romantic gift for her sister. She even volunteered to watch the kids while Fred and Marge were on the trip. Clara only wished that some man would do something like this for her. She thought that Fred was too good for her sister, Marge, and wished she could find his clone.

Several months earlier, at a family baptism party, Fred had caught Clara staring at him with “that look” in her eyes. All of a sudden he found himself fantasizing about the reality that he might have married the wrong sister. That is when he had decided to make a mask of Clara for Marge, and a Marge mask for Clara. When he secretly gave the Marge mask to Clara for her birthday, Clara informed him that while she baby sat the kids in his house, she would fulfill one of her dearest fantasies by wearing her sister’s face while sleeping in Fred’s and Marge’s bed.

“I didn’t know that you were into masking, Clara,” declared Fred.

“I have been masking my feelings for years, Federico.” Clara was the only person, besides his parents who called him Federico. Marge had told him to dump the name because it made his Mexican ethnicity even more obvious than his skin did. Fred realized by his exchange with Clara that he had been masking himself from his own roots for several decades. After he got things straightened out with Marge, he would have to explore that reality as well.

The next step was to find a location for their “anniversary vacation”. One day while in San Francisco on business, Fred checked out, and made reservations for a two-room motel suite in the Lombardi Inn on Lombard Street. He also visited Stormy Leather and ordered some fetish wear from them. He then bought some extra suit cases that he filled with his gear and hid them in the bottom of their car’s trunk. He then packed their regular suitcases with their vacation clothes and layered them in the trunk on top of the cases with his fantasy gear. He also packed their digital video camcorder and still camera. His kids were in on the reality of the “vacation” for their parents and didn’t protest that their Aunt Clara in their Mother’s face, would be around to supervise them while their parents were on the trip. They thought that both their Dad and Clara were a pair of really romantic souls by making the whole thing an anniversary surprise for their Mother. Fred finally had all the pieces in place to stage his fantasy and behavior modification plan.

Thus, on the second Friday in December, Marge and Fred were scheduled to take an eight-day “ski-trip to Tahoe”. They would leave from the company Christmas party. That way he would have her well oiled when he poured her into their car and headed north to San Francisco, instead of east to Tahoe. On the morning of the “vacation trip” he went back to San Francisco to pick up the cuffs, chains, gags, hoods, restraining bars, vibrators, butt plugs and dildoes from Stormy Leather. Then he went to the Lombardi to set up the cameras and the room for a week that would change Marge’s life or break their marriage. The second room in the suite also had a refrigerator and microwave. Fred left it like a normal motel room where he could stay and watch TV and process the videos and pictures with his lap top. He lay in provisions so they wouldn’t have to leave the room for several days if Marge took a while to see the error of her ways. At three in the afternoon, Clara took the bus to her sister’s house to help her get ready for the company party. A part of getting Marge ready was exchanging her own ID with Marge’s ID. On the way to the party they picked up the children from the library. Then they all went to the hall where the party was being held. Clara dropped Marge off and took the children to Togo’s Sandwich Shop. While the children were eating their favorite sandwiches, Clara went into the restaurant bathroom and changed into their Mom. Half of the switch was completed and the children were thrilled with the change in their Aunt Clara.

Marge had checked with the caterers to make sure that all was ready for the company business party. While it really wasn’t her place, she just couldn’t resist the opportunity to boss a group of human beings around. Fred’s secretary, Georgia, arrived in time to keep the caterers from leaving the hall. Then the first wave of revelers showed up and the company Christmas party started swinging into action. Fred made sure that he was among the last to arrive. The traffic back from San Francisco had been murder, but he had the conciliation of knowing that the set-up in San Francisco was a loaded snare ready to snap. Everyone had a great time at the party. Fred did his Santa Claus bit and the staff and their guests all had their picture taken with Santa. This ritual had become a company tradition. By lunch on the following Monday, most of the employees would have a photo on their desk of them and Santa. All the secret pal gifts were handed out. Fred only drank sodas, because he was the designated driver and Marge was well on her way to becoming a well-oiled celebrant. As the party wound down by midnight, Fred checked with the caterer and made sure the clean-up was well under way and the last of his staff were safely loaded and/or poured into a vehicle with a sober designated driver behind the steering wheel. In some cases cabs were called to make sure everyone got back to their domiciles safely.

Georgia helped Fred pour Marge into the front seat of his car. He went back into the hall to get the company things and help Georgia load them into her van. Georgia was a loving, caring woman that had a crush on her boss. Like Clara, she was looking for Fred’s clone, but if she could get the original, that would be her first choice. Fred was aware of her desires although she had been professional enough to never actually voice them. To Georgia’s great and constant disappointment, he had always tried to be gentle but firm about the professional basis of their relationship.

“Make sure you log in your mileage for hauling these things around, and have Facilities help you put them back into storage for next year, Georgia,” instructed Fred.

“Will you be using the Santa gear again for the on site Day Care Program, Sir?” asked Georgia sweetly.

“Yes, Georgia, so put it into my office closet,” replied Fred.

“Very good, Sir. Have a nice vacation. I hear that Tahoe is just beautiful after the first heavy snow. The news reports said they are expecting a whopper of a storm this weekend. It is supposed to get really cold,” informed Georgia.

“I heard that too, Georgia. If you need anything, I’m taking my laptop. Just email me as always.”

“We’ll do, Sir. Good night.”

“Thanks for all your assistance, Georgia.” said Fred as he reached into his pocket. “Here is a token of my appreciation of your efforts on my behalf.” He handed her a small box that had a pair of solid gold hoop earrings and a card with three one hundred-dollar bills inside.

Georgia opened the card. “Why thank you, Sir.”

“There is one bill for each year of service, Georgia.”

“I hope your wife doesn’t mind this,” said Georgia as she put her right hand behind Fred’s head and pulled it forward to kiss him on the cheek.

“That’s not necessary, Georgia.” stated Fred as he blushed at her aggressive yet endearing behavior.

“I’ve always wanted to do that, Sir. You deserve it and saw in your wife’s actions tonight that she doesn’t know it. If you ever need a shoulder to cry on or if there is anything I can do, please don’t hesitate to call on me,” proclaimed Georgia as she glanced nervously in Marge’s direction.

“She’s probably snoring in the car, Georgia. If you don’t like what is in the box, the jeweler at Zale’s in Eastridge said he would exchange it for something you preferred,” stated Fred ignoring Georgia’s remarks.

“Thanks, Sir. With the notable exception of the woman you are married to, you have great taste. I know I will like whatever it is. Did you get the drift of what I was telling you, Sir?”

“You are the best secretary I have ever had, Georgia. I’m not good enough for you. I’m sure that one of the junior executives at the plant is much more deserving,” suggested Fred.

“Your wife is a fortunate woman, Sir,” said Georgia with obvious disappointment in her voice. Then she added with assertive, female dignity, “Have a good vacation, Sir.”

“Thank you, Georgia.”

“It is I, who should thank you, Boss.”

Georgia got into her car and drove away. All of a sudden Fred felt lonely as he looked at the sleeping, drunken form of Marge snoring in the front seat of their car. He opened the trunk and got out the paper bag with the “Clara” mask in it. He closed the trunk and opened Marge’s door, pulled the mask onto her face, zipped the head closed and locked the zipper to the mask’s collar. Marge wouldn’t be able to take off the mask until Fred unlocked the collar. He then tucked the mask’s shoulder flange into her dress, re-buttoned her coat, and placed sunglasses over the unseeing painted eyes of the mask. To complete the illusion, he placed a wig on the masked “Clara’s” head and positioned the hair around the face of the mask on his sleeping wife. The wig duplicated Clara’s long, curly red hair. The other half of the switch was completed. To all but the most critical observer, his wife was at home with his children and he was going on “vacation” with her sister, Clara. Marge snored through the whole process.

They drove north to San Francisco along U.S. 101, without incident. When they arrived at the hotel, Fred awakened the “new Clara” just enough to get her to the elevator. Once on their floor Fred held her erect enough so she could stagger, with assistance to their suite. Once in the room he dressed her in the most confining yet sensuous rubber doll outfit that Stormy Leather had created. He gagged, cuffed and strapped the heavily corseted, masked figure to her bed, he placed on her feet and legs, shiny black, eight-inch high, stiletto heeled, patent leather boots that he laced almost up to “Clara’s” crotch. He then gave her two tranquilizers with a large glass of water and plugged her butt. Then he inserted a large vibrator that was lubricated with an anesthetic creme into her vagina and turned it on. The vibrator immediately started the simulation process, but the anesthetic prevented her from releasing herself by climaxing. He then secured her to the room’s bed with black duct tape. Fred then took several pictures of the doll and went into the other room of the suite. The passionate and erotic moaning of the over stimulated “rubber Clara doll” in the bondage room made Fred feel really good in his marriage for the first time in about four years. He went to sleep with a sense of bliss. By morning and even with a hang over “Clara” the “rubber doll” should be ready to fuck anything that moved.

The noise of the Saturday traffic on Lombard Street awoke Fred at about eight in the morning. The “rubber doll” in the other room was snoring fitfully. He took a hot shower had some breakfast and changed into a scarred face pirate mask to scare Marge from her restless snores into a confused dream state. He walked into the bondage room with the rubber encased doll. Marge awoke to find herself strapped to a bed in bondage and locked into Clara’s face. She saw her terrifying captor and went to scream, but the gag in her mouth only allowed a high pitched whimper.

“Awake, are ye now, my Clara Lass?” belched out the pirate.

He thinks I’m Clara, thought Marge.

“I’m going to give ya this here shot to help that head of yours.”

My God I do have a huge hangover. What is he giving me? Whatever it is, it feels good thought the “rubber Clara Doll” as she slipped into a warm glow.

Fred the pirate slipped a bedpan under the doll and pulled out the butt plug and the vibrator. “Time to poop and pee, Lassie. Do her now before yee olde plugs are put back in.”

“Clara the rubber doll” felt the pleasure of her body relieving itself. While she was doing that the pirate set up the camcorder. After the Pirate had disposed of the pan’s contents in the toilet, he returned to the rubber doll and relieved his horny, throbbing rod in her. The creme of the exotic doll’s hot and hungry pussy pleasured to Fred like no other sex he had before in his life. In spite of her terror, the over stimulated rubber doll came and came. To Fred, it appeared that it was the best sex Marge had ever had.

“That’s your breakfast, Lassie. I filled you with some nice warm protein. You’re probably wonderin’ why we have you all bound up this way. So I’m goin’ta tell you what’s a goin’ on, my Sweet Little Clara Doll. You’re being punished by the Hen Pecked Husband’s society for the sins of her sister Marge,” explained the pirate as he re-plugged the rubber doll.

If they want to punish Clara, why am I here? Thought Marge behind Clara’s lovely latex face.

“You are goin’ to watch how your sister lectures her husband over and over until you vow to stop her, Lassie.” he added as he reinserted the vibrator. “I hope you liked our little sex session. Now it is time for a little TV,” he stated as he turned on the VCR and television and left the room.

The pirate returned to Clara’s room at noon. “Are we a little hungry, my Lassie?”

“Clara’s” rubber covered head nodded yes.

“If I take the gag out so ye can eat, you must promise to be quiet or things will go very bad for yah. Are we goin’ to be a quiet, Little Lassie?”

“Clara’s” head nodded yes again.

“Then let us remove our little gag so we can have our little lunch,” said Fred as the ugly old pirate.

“Can you undo my arms too?” asked “Clara’s” face once the gag was removed. “They have gone numb.”

“Let us drink our lunch first,” said the pirate who had laced the drink with tranquilizers. “Any questions ye may ask or orders ye wants to give, will produce the opposite result, Lassie.”

“Can you tell me who you really are? Is that you Howard? You are so kinky. Not dull like my dumb, drab, drooling, and dim-witted husband Fred.”

“I believe my morning person already told you, Lassie. Sounds like we need more T. V. lessons after lunch,” said Fred behind the pirate’s face. Who the hell is Howard? Must be one of her clients, Fred thought.

“But you want Clara. I’m Marge, not Clara, Howard.”

“And I’m the Queen of Nova Scotia. I’ve seen your ID, Lassie. We’ve got the right girl.”

The tranquilizers were starting to kick in. The pirate did the ritual with the bed-pan, followed by another session of ball clutching, gut wrenching sex.

“I don’t know what’s happening here, but the sex is great. Do you have to put that gag back in?” asked “Clara”.

“We would not have had to do the gag bit to yah, Lassie, but now that ye asked, so the answer is a great big yes, Miss. I already told ye that. It is part of our instructions,” said the pirate as he forced the big ball gag back in to her mouth and reinserted the vibrator and the butt plug. “Enjoy your afternoon lessons, Miss. My relief will be here for dinner,” said the pirate as he turned on the television and the VCR; gave a hungry, threatening look at the rubber doll on the bed, left the room, and locked the door.

Fred took off his masks and changed into his own persona. He would have preferred to walk around with Marge, but she was not ready in his opinion. Once he left the inn he strolled down to and along the Hyde Street Pier for a meditative walk. He had always enjoyed touring the historical ships moored there. After his walk through the maritime history of western North America, he enjoyed a wonderful seafood lunch at Scoma’s Restaurant. Next, he strolled through the quaint shops of Ghiradelli Square. He stopped in North Beach leather and commissioned a black, full-cover column dress based upon Marge’s corset exaggerated and well padded measurements. Then he ambled back to the room. Even with the good meal at Scoma’s the long walk had left him hungry. Once he was back in the room, he changed into his Space Alien mask and checked on “Clara the hot-to-trot rubber doll”. The rubber doll focused her gaze upon the alien figure that entered the room and made another futile attempt at one of her high pitched screams. Once again, it came through her nose as a whimper. Seeing that all was well, the Space Alien left the room and changed into Marge for the Dinner ritual. The Marge character lectured the “rubber Clara doll” through the entire meal and bed-pan rituals.

“The Space Alien will be in later to have sex with you, Clara. Be good to him, or tonight will be painful,” exhorted Fred’s mask of Marge.

“Howard, you are better at doing me than I am. Please undo my arms, I promise that I won’t try and escape. I’ll promise to stay wherever you put me. Just don’t take me home.”

“I’ll reposition your arms for you, Clara, but you are such a sissy. Don’t you know when to shut your face?” asked Fred in Marge’s mask. “Take my punishment like a good woman. What is wrong with you? You are such a dumb bitch. I can’t believe you are not enjoying this.”

“But I am really starting to enjoy this, Howard. I can’t even imagine what you will come with next.”

“Who the hell is Howard? There is no Howard here.”

“Have it your way, Marge,” said “Clara’s” rubber face.

“You are such a pain slut, Clara. You love Fred and take his wife’s punishment. You are a patsy for their stupid games. Why don’t you show some back bone?” and on and on the tirade went. Fortunately, “Clara’s” tranquilizers kicked in and the semi-dream state came back. The Space Alien showed up as promised a couple of hours later and took itself and the rubber doll to the paradise of sexual ecstasy.

Marge imagined that his big, hard, hot rod was the best one yet. She wanted him more and more, but he never wanted to totally satisfy her.

Fred spent the rest of the evening doing his email forwarded to him by Georgia, as well as enhancing his stills and video from that day’s activities of “rubber Marge”, the “Space Alien”, the “Pirate” and “Clara the Rubber Doll”. As he reviewed the edited set, he felt that a good day’s work had been done, and that Marge’s attitude was beginning to change. So far, Fred was really enjoying his vacation.

The next morning the pirate returned to the Rubber doll’s room, and reloaded the camcorder. Once that was done, he took off the Rubber Doll’s curly red wig and pull on Marge’s mask over Clara’s gagged one. The doll moaned and grunted but the pirate went on with his plan where he repeated the morning sex ritual and physical relief sessions with the masked Rubber Doll. After the sex session, that left the Doll even more frustrated, the pirate took off the Marge mask and left the room. The Pirate changed into the Marge head and returned to untied the gagged doll. While Stormy Weather’s corseted and extremely padded fetish gear was left on “Clara”, including the gag, the “rubber Marge” layered Marge’s Fred Costume over the sexy “rubber doll”. The Marge version “Fred’s mask and suit” covered the fetish gear and gag in such a manner, that “Fred” almost looked silently normal.

“Nice to have you back with us Fred.” announced the figure wearing Marge’s face. “If you don’t want to be put back on the bed, you will take this Marge to Sunday brunch at Pompei’s Grotto.”

The Rubber Doll inside the Fred suit agreed. Thus the couple masked together for the first time in public, with Fred wearing the “Marge outfit” and Marge as “rubber Clara” wearing the “Fred outfit”. As they walked and talked the “New Marge” never missed an opportunity to emasculate and embarrass the “New Fred” in the same manner that the real Marge always did to him. The “New Marge” made the “New Fred” stand around as she shopped for trinkets and meaningless tourist trap junk the entire afternoon. That night, after the real Fred once again did his email and edited that day’s video and stills, the “New Fred” slept tied up next to the “New Marge”. The real Fred was now sure that with her newly established cooperation, that Marge was coming around. At least that is what he thought he saw in the videos. The next morning, after reloading the camcorder, the Space Alien did the breakfast/bed pan/sex ritual with the Rubber Doll. He then put feminine clothes on the Doll and reapplied Marge’s latex face over the gagged Clara mask. After that, the Space Alien left the room and locked the door. Fred took a shower and put on another costume. This outfit and mask was another one of Fred’s characters. Fred called him Gorgio, the illiterate Italian gigolo. As “Gorgio”, he reentered the room and had sex with the normalized Rubber Doll with Marge’s mask on.

“Would de rich old Marge peoples wished to make a joyful walking wit her happy man?”

“Yes, Howard. This is your best role yet,” said the double masked Marge.

“Who’s Howard?” asked the real Fred in his Gorgio disguise.

“Right, I forgot, Howard is not here,” acquiesced the double masked Marge.

“I tink de Goldenda Gata Bridga, she be a gooda walka.”

“Whatever you want, Gorgio,” said Clara as she squirmed in her sweat filled fetish clothing underneath her regular clothes. She was positive that her skin was breaking out into some kind of rash. She didn’t realize that Fred had rubbed her down with antibiotic creams prior to putting the latex on her, to prevent any rash from developing due to prolonged enclosure in the latex.

“You a fina womens, Clara. Too bada your sister is so bada.” said Gorgio as he put a long warm, black wind breaker over the long, wool jersey dress that covered all of the fetish clothing. “Ifa youa be gooda to me, I call Fred for him to talks to you. Okay?”

“That will be fine, but only if you want to, Gorgio.”

“Youa sucha agreeable womens, Marga. It’s a gooda thinga that Fred loves you lika second wifa.”

“He what?!”

“Oh, I am sorrya. Maybe he’da wanted to tell yous dat himselfa. Here, have a little mora of dis drink to calma your nervesa.”

They drove in a rented car out to the Golden Gate Bridge and walked out into the wind. They crossed on foot the entire length of the bridge and then walked all the way back. In the eight-inch heels, with four-inch platforms, this was a real accomplishment for the double masked, normally dressed Rubber Doll, but Marge as “Clara” double masked as “Marge”, never said a single thing about it. They ate lunch at the Hippo Burger and returned to the room. “Gorgio” left and the “Space Alien” came in and did the sex ritual with the normalized but restrained “Clara”. At four in the afternoon, a blindfolded Fred was “pushed” into the room.

“Clara. They called me and Marge at Tahoe to tell me you had been kidnapped.” announced Fred as he took the blindfold off. “Where are we, Clara.”

“You are an idiot, Fred. I’m Marge; not Clara.”

“That’s impossible. I just left Marge at the Holiday Inn on Columbus Street.”

“How come you are so positive you just left Marge, Fred? You are so gullible. You believe anything you think you see. How did I ever get saddled with such a stupid dork? You aren’t worth the time it takes to breathe around you. Have you ever considered that all you are good for is using up surplus air?”

Look who’s talking thought Fred to himself. Then in an audible voice he said, “Clara, sweet Clara. You are doing that Marge imitation so well, but I know I just left Marge. She has been bullying me all the ways back from Lake Tahoe, like always. Rejecting my sexual advances, like always. Complaining about my attitude and driving, like always. She couldn’t even understand why we had to get you out of this trouble. If I had only married you, Sweet Clara.”

“I’ll Sweet Clara you, you two timing, jerk,” shrieked the masked and restrained Rubber Doll.

“I’m sorry you feel that way Clara,” said Fred as he put the blind fold back on and appeared to wait by the door as it opened and he left. The door closed and locked. Ten minutes later the pirate came into the room and checked the straps that secured “Clara” to the bed turned on the TV and the VCR with the “whining Marge tapes” and left the room. No dinner or sex was served that night.

The following day dawned and started much like the past three days. The person behind the “Clara” mask seemed even more content and compliant to Fred. The treatment was having an effect on Marge.

After the regular morning ritual and sex, “Gorgio” and “Clara” walked to Pier 39. They ate lunch at the Crow’s nest. After they returned to the Lombardi, the real Fred was “pushed” into the room at three p.m. This time however, “Clara”, in a sweet and gentle way he hadn’t heard or felt since his courting days with Marge, asked the real Fred, to make love to her. This Fred did willingly. Her abrupt change in attitude puzzled him, but the sex was so great and her following up on his fantasies so pleasing, that he decided to ignore his doubts. They walked to and ate in Chinatown that night as “Clara” and “Gorgio”. For Fred, it was like being on his honeymoon again.

To change the routine a little, Fred as the Pirate, had Marge become herself on Wednesday morning with only a black rubber latex “Executioner Styled” full hood on her head to vex her cantankerous personality. Once the hood was in place, the Pirate made her strip naked. He made her clean and powder the latex. She needed a good hosing after being confined in latex clothing for four days, but the Pirate gave her no privacy as she struggled to clean herself, for the gag and leg restraints had been left in place. He constantly lectured her in Marge’s style, about the features of her body that did not please him and how he could not wait to get her back into her corset as well as cover her face with a “legitimate mask”. Marge didn’t seem to mind all the put downs, but actually seemed somehow turned on by the routine.

Marge thought if this constant nagging style was actually how she appeared to Fred and the children, she was definitely going to get some counseling. On the other hand, no one else had complained about her style, least of all Howard. “Can you tell me how long these acts of confinement are going to last?” asked Marge in the rubber hood.

“As long as it takes, Lassie.”

“As long as it takes to do what?”

“As long as it takes to reprogram your behavior. After all, programming is not an exact science.”

“And where, may I ask, is Fred when he is out of my sight? Not that I’m complaining about his absence, you understand.”

“Fred is at a programming session of his own.” informed the pirate. “That is why he has not been allowed to stay with you. The real Marge is doing to him, what we are doing to you.”

“But I’m the real Marge.”

“I know ye want to believe that, Clara, and in your “Marge”, mask you could almost pass for her. After all, it is a really good mask.”

“If I took off this rubber hood, you would see that what I am wearing is not a mask,” declared the real Marge.

“Just ye keep on talkin’ like that if ye want to be punished by wearin’ the vibratin’ dildoe all day.”

Marge got quiet inside of the hood, then ask, “Is Fred getting the sex treatment too?”

“Oh, most certainly. He claims that he has never had it so good.”

The fact that Fred was getting sex and was allegedly enjoying it bothered the real Marge more than her own confinement no matter whom her captors really might be. For the past four days, Fred had made videos of Marge in her various costumes. He had also posed with her as various masked beings doing the weirdest perverted acts he had been able to find on the Internet. He took joy in enhancing these photos on his laptop to further compromise the real Marge. He made pictures of lesbian sex, sodomy and bestiality with a Space Alien, and oral sex with Gorgio. The acts were so photographed and enhanced so as to make Marge look like an incredibly horny woman, that was constantly on the make, with a desire for any kind of perverted sex she could get.

Fred had also kept a running dialogue, via Email, with his children, his sister-in-law and his secretary, Georgia. It seemed that everyone had accepted the real Clara as her sister Marge. Georgia had him totally covered at the office. The children gave glowing reports about the “improvement” in their “Mother”. In Clara’s emails, she hinted that if Marge wanted, she would be willing to make this arrangement permanent. Fred thought that the idea of institutionalizing the double switch might be just the hammer he needed to bring Marge around, but then Marge was not reacting exactly how he had expected. Seeing the videos and editing them over the last four days gave Fred plenty of opportunity to think and re-think about both his fantasies and realities. He concluded from that process that while he had originally fantasized about actually doing a masked switch of Clara for his wife, what he really needed to do was divorce Marge and marry Clara. Thus, as part of this new focus, Fred planned to create “evidence” that he might need, if and when a divorce from Marge became necessary. That “evidence” would have to demonstrate that Marge was not only an unfit wife, but also an unfit mother.

To this end, he converted the real Marge, in her heavily tranquilized dream state, into Georgia. He then became Marge the dominatrix and had the “new Georgia” do everything that Fred could recall from his research of fetishes. The stories from the BSMD Pleasure Palace web site, were a fantastic resource for ideas. What continued to amaze the real Fred in his “Marge” disguise, was that his wife as “Georgia”, was not only cooperating, but was also adding to the acts of perversion, without hesitation. In her fetish gear and Victorian corsets, the real Marge as the new “Georgia” was becoming and acting out every masking fantasy that Fred had ever had. Maybe Marge was coming around after all, he hoped.

It was a good thing that Fred had brought along his Super ZIP Drive. The digital video he was getting from the Georgia/Marge interaction was approaching commercial and salable levels. The pornography they were creating from the video’s and “still” shots definitely had a “Triple X” rating. He mused about whether straight laced, ultra conservative, PTA Marge could imagine herself as a “porn queen”.

That evening, the “dominatrix Marge” took the new “Georgia” out for a night of public masking to several gay bars in the Castro District. The New “Georgia” fit in better than the New “Marge”. It was as if the “Georgia” mask had given birth to a side of his wife that she didn’t know was there.

On Thursday, the real Marge asked “Gorgio” if he could be “Georgia”, so she could be “Clara” pretending to be Marge for this day’s activities.

“You can’t be serious!” exclaimed Gorgio.

“You don’t know what I really can do unless you let me try being Marge, Gorgio,” teased the real Marge.

“Okay, Clara. You can be Marge, but I’ll send for Georgia to be your lesbian lover.” said “Gorgio”. “But, one wrong move, and you will take an acid trip from which there is no return.”

“No need to threaten me, Gorgio. I want to do this. If Clara wants my dullard, Fred, she can have him. As Georgia, a new Marge will be born and I will be free at last, Howard.”

“I’m not Howard!”

“Sorry. I forgot myself for a minute, Gorgio.”

“How will you live, Marge?”

“You said that you had the connections to set me up in Los Angeles as either myself or Georgia the Porn Queen, Howard. Because of the last five days, I know that I have both the talent and the desire to do that well. Only you could have shown me that, Howard. Besides they make a lot of money and you are a natural born manager.”

“I can’t believe my ears, Clara, and I’m not Howard.”

“If you are not Howard, I’m not Clara. I’ll call you Gorgio. You call me Marge.”

“Okay, Marge. Doesn’t Marge have children?”


“Well, what about the children?” asked the real Fred in his Gorgio disguise.

“Clara always wanted them. They were fun when they were little. Now, they are millstones around my neck. What can a porn queen do with children anyway? Besides Howard, you always said that you liked me, but hated may kids”. The digital camcorder was silently documenting Fred’s case for full custody.

“So if Gorgio is this Howard, what do you have to say to him?” inquired Fred.

“You can leave the mask on, Honey. I know it is you under it, but the mystery makes it more fun to have this conversation, Howard.”

“How come your are so sure that I’m Howard?” asked Fred through his “Gorgio” mask.

“Oh baby, the only other alternatives is that lame Society for Hen Peck Husbands, or the even that more lame Fred. No way, could he do me as you have done me baby, let alone think up this wild week.”

“Fine.” said Fred holding in his anger as Marge blew her cover. The question was how long the cover had been played to the unsuspecting Fred.

“I know that you are relieved to hear that I will be free at last, Howard. You have been begging me to break loose for over a year now.”

“I’m not Howard!”

“Sorry, again, Gorgio. You are really good at staying in character. Let’s have some more sex.”

“Not right now. There are a few things I need to get straight.”

“Like what, Gorgio?”

“What do you mean, free at last, Marge?”

“Don’t be so dense Gorgio. Shortly, I will have shaken loose of the old ball and chain. All I have to do is show some of your videos to Fred’s family or have that lame Society include them in his therapy sessions. Beside, Gorgio, I can’t wait to try all the new perversion you taught me directly on Howard in my own persona or Georgia.”

Fred was stunned. “Are you making up this stuff just to hurt Fred, Marge?” asked Gorgio.

“That fool is beyond hurt. He is a classic dumb shit numb-nuts. If there ever was a classic submissive pain slut, Fred is the stereotype,” proclaimed the real Marge.

“Why didn’t you tell me all this before?” asked Fred as Gorgio.

“I would have, but the Pirate and the Space Alien were so good and you had me gagged most of the time. In addition, you showed me what a bitch I was. Now I know how not to make the same mistakes with you, Howard that the stupid shit Fred allowed me to make. I love the way you have manipulated me and made me feel so special.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not Howard!” exclaimed Fred as Gorgio.

“I love it when you are forceful, Gorgio.”

“So what do you want to do now, Marge?”

“I want to go out, have some fun and invite Howard to join us, Gorgio.”

“Inviting Howard would destroy the mystery, Marge,” said Fred behind Gorgio’s face.

“That’s right. Then I’ll be Georgia.”

Dinner was a real effort for “Gorgio” that night, but thinking of Clara and his children kept Fred from revealing his position of strength. When Marge as “Georgia” went into her drugged sleep for the night, Fred went into the other room and called Clara at his house. There was no answer. He then tried her number and found her at her home, in bed.

“The kids wanted to come to my place after school, Fred. I guess they wanted a little variety too. Besides, here I feel I can be myself. How’s Marge?”

“Marge is fine, but I think our marriage has died?”

“It has been dead for several years, Fred. Your are just slow on the up-take, Honey. What woke you up?”

“She mentioned something about some guy named Howard on our trip.”

“I knew there was someone, but I didn’t know his name was Howard,” stated Clara.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” asked Fred.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, Fred.”

“Like this doesn’t hurt?” asked Fred feeling emotional betrayal and loss.

“Fred, you had to find it out for yourself, otherwise you would have come to hate the messenger almost as much as the culprit.”

“But I thought that Marge and I still had a chance, right up until this afternoon.”

“That’s fantasy talk, Fred. What are you planning to do?”

“Marry you, if you’ll have me, Clara.”

“Seriously, Frederico. Get a hold of yourself. You are moving too fast for me. When did all this happen?”

“Okay, Clara. I’m being totally serious here. I realized about three days a go, after years of looks and personal questioning that it was you, not Marge that I loved. I kept hoping I could change her into you. Of course that was all before I knew about Marge’s plans.”

“What are Marge’s plans.”

“She is leaving me for this Howard, I think.”

“That, `I think’, doesn’t sound very positive, Federico.”

“Let’s put it this way, Clara. If she doesn’t leave me, I’m leaving her. With the evidence I have on her, no court in the land will refuse me a divorce. Now, will you marry me?”

“Are you proposing?”

“I guess I am, Clara.”

“I dreamed about this for years, Federico, but this is not how I thought it would happen.”

“What do you mean, Clara?”

“You aren’t going to get me that easy, Federico. I love you and your kids too much to let you escape into my heart without finding yourself first.”

“How do you suggest that I do that, Clara?”

“Let’s do some masking together first, Honey. You can be in my fantasy if I can be in yours.”

“That sounds like a song lyric, Clara.”

“Lyric or not, I believe that through masking we can role play and explore each other’s desires until we become synchronized alter egos.”

“And the kids?”

“If Marge says it is okay, I’ll adopt them, but I also want some of my own. Are you on board with that, Federico?”

“Sounds fine to me, Clara.”

“Then send my sister, Marge, on her way. The kids and I will join you wherever you are.”

“Can I call you about 7:00 a.m. with a confirmation of that, Clara? I have some loose ends to tie-up, first.”

“Save some of the knot tying for me, Federico. I want to bind you tightly to me.”

Fred hung up the phone, turned out the lights, checked on the rubber doll in the other room, lay down on his bed and dreamed of Masking with Clara and the kids. The following morning, Marge, as “Georgia”, was awakened by a person wearing a mask that duplicated Marge’s face.

“Georgia, you are to leave for wherever you are going today. Call your Howard and tell him to come and get you. If you paid attention on your walks you should know where you are.”

“Couldn’t the pirate come over and do it with me one more time before I have to return to reality and Fred, Howard?”

“Fred is a `no more’ for you, Georgia. He has found another in his sessions.”

“Good for him, I guess. Do I know the unfortunate woman?”

“That is really none of your business right now, Georgia.”

“Can I keep the corset and the fetish gear? Howard loves this kind of stuff.”

“No. If this Howard guy likes this kind of gear, he can buy it for you, himself. These all belong to the Society for Hen Pecked Husbands and must be returned to them,” forcefully asserted Fred behind Marge’s face.

“What am I supposed to wear?”

“We have a suitcase of your regular clothing in a location close to here. It will be brought up to you.”

“I want a ticket to Los Angeles.”


“Where will I be meeting Howard?”

“Call him and find out that information yourself, Georgia.”

“Can I do that now?”

“No. Call him from the airport, Georgia.”

“Tell Fred that he will be hearing from my attorneys. May I take one of the videos to remember this week?”

“They belong to the Society as research data on masking. In addition, Fred will need them for his therapy. If you send his attorney your new address, for a fee, a an edited copy might be forwarded to you.”

“Make sure that Fred gets plenty of therapy. He hasn’t got enough manhood left in his balls to make a worm happy,” complained Marge.

Ignoring the last jab, Fred as Marge asked, “Aren’t you going to call your children?”

“I’ll do that when the time is right from Los Angeles,” said the real Marge in her “Georgia” persona.

“Georgia” left on the noon airport shuttle with cash from the Hen Peck society and enough ID to establish herself as Howard’s wife, Georgia. Fred as “Marge” packed what gear that “Georgia” was not allowed to take with her to Los Angeles. He then called “Clara” and told her to meet him, with the children at his house in an hour and a half. He checked out of the Lombardi Inn as “Marge”, got in his car and drove to his house as Marge in Fred’s clothes.

He pulled into his garage at approximately the time he had estimated. Clara came out of the laundry room door dressed and masked as Fred.

“I’ve left the kids with my mother, Marge. We need some time together right now. Do you have a Clara mask with you?”

“Yes, but how did you know that I would be in a mask, Clara, or should I say Fred?”

“Call me Federico, Marge. That is your name and the one that Clara likes to call you.”

“Okay, Federico, How did you know?”

“Clara has made it her life’s central purpose to know Federico better than he knows himself. That is why Fred needs to be Clara, so he can find himself in her.”

“Give me a minute to unpack the Clara Mask, Federico. I’ll join you in the house.”

“Not so fast, Marge. Federico and Clara have some dating to do first.”

“What do you mean, Federico?” asked Fred as “Marge”.

“Weren’t you all packed for a ski trip to Tahoe?”

“Yes, but Clara’s things aren’t packed.”

“They are now, plus a few surprises,” stated Clara as “Federico”.

“So what did you have in mind, Federico?” asked Fred as “Marge”.

“We are spending the weekend there. I already made the reservations at the Snow Bird Resort near Harvey’s on the South Shore. If we leave now we will have a four-hour jump on the traffic. Do you have the chains in the car, Marge?”

“Yes, Federico. I have a set for us as well as the car.”

“Then get moving Marge, I want Clara to drive. I love her driving style. I can’t wait to use those chains. Bye-the-way, what should I do with Marge’s ID?”

“Keep it. We may need it if one of us masks as Marge.”

“Sounds good,” stated Clara as “Federico”.

“What are we doing after we get to the resort, Federico?” asked Fred as he changed into his “Clara” costume and mask.

“I have some fantasies that you will love, Clara. I have dreamed of them for years.”

“I know how that feels, Federico.” commented Fred as “Clara”.

“Your car’s trunk is full of adult toys, outfits, masks, torsos, camcorders, and videos, isn’t it?” inquired the real Clara as “Federico”.

“Absolutely, my masking Lover. I’ll be in your fantasy if you come into mine, Federico.”

“That is exactly what I have in mind, Clara.” said the real Clara from behind “Federico’s” face.

“Then what happens?” asked the real Fred as “Clara”.

“If things work out the way I think they will, we will spend Christmas here in your house with the children and our families. I’ll even wear the “Marge” mask and the Mrs. Claus costume while you do your annual Santa bit. This way, only the children will be in on the divorce until it is final.”

“Good idea. There will be a wonderful full-length leather column dress waiting for you or Lisa at North Beach Leathers.”

“Who is Lisa?” asked Clara from behind her Federico mask.

“She is my real alter ego,” declared Fred as he worked at becoming Clara. I have never shared her with anyone before.”

“Well, Lisa and Clara are just going to have to make an all girl shopping trip to the city. It might be fun to leave Frederico at home for the day,” stated Clara as “Federico”.

“I would like that very much,” said Fred while nearing completion of his transformation into “Clara”. “And then what?” asked Fred as he finished converting himself in to “Clara”.

“And then we will go on from there making each other’s dream a reality, Clara.”

“I love you, Federico,” said Fred tenderly through “Clara’s” face.

“I love you twice as much as that, Clara.” insisted Clara from behind “Federico’s” face.


In January, Fred heard from Marge’s attorneys after he filed for divorce. They asked for half of everything and joint custody of the children and spousal support. Fred had his attorney send copies of some of the “vacation” videos to Marge’s attorneys. Marge’s attorneys decided not to contest the divorce, or ask for child custody, or spousal support. Fred offered against the advice of his attorney’s a twenty thousand dollar, one time only payment, so that Clara could adopt the children. Marge sold her children for twenty thousand dollars and half of their income tax refund. She used those funds to start a business called Fetishes “R” Us with Howard in West Hollywood.

Fred’s masking skills had paid off. He was living with a masking kindred spirit that complemented his own. The children were happy. The staff in his division, especially the real Georgia, noticed a much lighter handed as well as a more creative boss. The real Clara and Federico were married on Halloween with their families, close work associates, and all their children in attendance. Georgia was the maid of honor. The gorgeous, radiant, graceful bride was three months pregnant. Her gown masked that reality beautifully.