My first wife,Betty,was what you'd call a nice
girl--pretty,honey-blonde,
soft-spoken,dependable,reserved.Our love life wasn't much
though...not what
I'd hoped for when we got married.She seemed to have inhibitions
about any
but the most "normal" sex acts,and I couldn't get a handle
on them.However,
sometimes she seemed to hesitate before saying no,and I eventually
persuaded
her to tell me why.
It turned out that she'd had fantasies about doing all sorts
of things,but
out of guilt she'd always envisioned them as happening to
an alter ego who
she called Nita."Nita is a bad girl",she told me.
"Well..couldn't you be Nita for me in bed?" I asked her.
She shook her head."I'd still know I'm Betty",she said.I thought
about that.
The next day I bought her a dark wig,since she'd told me Nita
didn't look
like her."When you wear this wig,you're Nita",I told her.She
hesitated,but
said she'd try it.
That night,after she undressed,she put the wig on.She looked
at herself in
the mirror,psyching herself up.Then we had the best sex we'd
ever had.After-
wards,she took the wig off,kissed me goodnight,and went to
sleep.
We started doing this several nights a week.I learned more
things about Nita.
Nita never ate her vegetables,Nita went to reform school,Nita
used blue
language(Betty *never* did),Nita smoked(or so she told me;this
was a real
surprise,since Betty had made me quit when we got married),Nita
played with
herself--and didn't mind my watching.I liked going to bed
with Nita.The
thought crossed my mind that if I could get her to sleep in
the wig rather
than going back to being Betty after sex,I might be able to
get sex out of
her in the mornings too.
Betty told me that she didn't have any sleepwear that would
suit Nita...all
her nightgowns were at least knee-length,and Nita was something
of an ex-
hibitionist.I got out a catalogue from a sexy-underwear place
that Betty
had told me I was perverted for getting,and asked her to pick
out something
for Nita.She selected a pair of crotchless panties and a peekaboo
bra.We
ordered them,and after they came she began to be Nita all
night.
Within a few months,she was Nita all night,every night.The
more she did
things that Betty would never have dreamed of doing,the less
she thought of
herself as Betty.She took to wearing plenty of cheap makeup,and
I got her
a broader wardrobe of ultrasexy underwear.I took to thinking
how I could
get her to spend even more time as Nita.
Every morning she would scrub and turn into trim,prim Betty;every
night she
would change into her wig and blatant undies and become pouty,naughty
Nita.
I decided to get her some clothes to wear around the house
that would suit
Nita.My first try was less than successful;the clothes I got
her were way
too sexy for Betty,but not vulgar enough for Nita.She had
to tighten and
shorten and slit everything to make them right."You'll have
to go out shop-
ping for yourself,Nita",I told her.She shook her head;that
was too much for
her...yet.
Now that she had clothes to wear around the house,she became
Nita around
dinnertime,and increasingly stayed Nita through breakfast.I
noticed she got
a bit dirty at times."Nita never washes",she told me.
"Nita...you're not Betty.You should say 'I'",I corrected her.The
less she
thought of being Nita as an act,the better she was at it.She
accepted the
correction,and from then on we often showered together,with
me washing her,
though she had to wash her wig and her hair separately.
After about six weeks,I finally got her to go out shopping
with me as Nita
to get some more Nita-type clothes.Like before,the stuff I
suggested to her
never seemed naughty *enough*.I was amazed at the transformation.Nita
wore
ultra-short dresses,ultra-short hot pants,peekaboo blouses,net
or seamed
stockings that she would keep wearing even with runs in them.When
she wore
panties--about half the time--they would either be crotchless
or she would
wet them and never mind the smell.Nita was still nervous outside
the house,
though,and I decided to build her confidence.
After a while I brought home a pack of cigarettes.After she
had become Nita,
I showed them to her."I know you smoke,Nita",I said,"but I've
never seen
you do it.Wouldn't you like a cigarette?" She took one slowly.I
lit it for
her,and lit up myself for the first time in a long while.It
felt good.I
showed her how to smoke,and after a little while she got the
hang of it.
I encouraged her every evening,and in a month Nita was smoking
more than I
was.I grew to love the way she ripped the top off a pack and
stuffed the
cigarettes into her stocking tops,occasionally lifting her
skirt to take
one out and light it from one she'd smoked to the bottom,and
the way she
insouciantly blew smoke in my face.I had to live with the
way she used
*anything* for an ashtray...that was the way Nita was,cheap
and dirty.Most
important,once she had the habit,her strong concepts of her
Betty self as a
non-smoker and her Nita self as a smoker made her feel less
at home being
Betty and more at home being Nita.We started going out together
regularly,
and she won some wet T-shirt contests(the kind of place I
went with Nita
was very different from the place I had gone with Betty).
That summer we went to a topless beach,but I noticed Nita
was ill at ease.
She occasionally checked her wig.I asked her about it later,and
she said
she was nervous about anyone who knew Betty recognizing her.I
got some hair
dye and we colored her body hair to match her wig rather than
the hair on her
head,but it didn't help much.I thought about the problem.
A week later I bought a wig that looked a lot like Betty's
hair,and another,
redheaded wig.When Betty got home that day I showed them to
her."This wig is
for Betty",I told her,"and this one is for Nita".
"But Nita--"
"Nita *shaves her head*",I said,adding an embellishment of
my own to Nita's
naughtiness for the first time.
Betty gulped,but accepted my suggestion.She took off her clothes,and
I led
her to a mirror.First with scissors,then with a razor,I carefully
shaved her
bald.She looked with wonderment at her changed appearance.She
had symbolical-
ly crossed the line from being Betty,who occasionally pretended
to be "Nita"
for me,to being Nita,who occasionally pretended to be "Betty"
for the out-
side world.A wig falling off could never reveal Nita as Betty,only
Betty as
Nita.
Nita didn't wear the redheaded wig much,but since she had
started occasion-
ally flashing people,she occasionally used it to change her
appearance.
About this time,since Nita had told me pictures of her appeared
in men's
magazines,I started taking some and sending them to tacky
sexy-letters mag-
azines...PLAYBOY et al were too respectable for Nita.Some
of them got bought.
Nita was delighted,but it embarassed Betty so much I saw even
less of her.
Not long after this we moved.Although we were still in the
same metropolitan
area,we had crossed a state line,which meant we needed new
driver's licenses.
I asked Nita if she could drive,and readily fibbing up a history,she
said
she had been hot-wiring cars since she was twelve.I challenged
her to get a
license of her own rather than renewing Betty's.Nita went
down to the motor
vehicle office and got a learner's permit,and then took her
written and road
tests--she entertained me with stories of how the instructor
made eyes at her
and she teased him.Soon Nita had her own driver's license
with her picture
on it,and Betty's had expired,which meant she had to commute
to work as Nita,
changing clothes and wig in a bathroom;I hardly ever saw Betty
around the
house after that.Since her driver's license was such an important
ID,Betty
transferred her bank accounts into Nita's name.
A couple of months later,we decided to take our vacations
together in the
Bahamas.Nita rummaged through her things(she had far more
clothes than Betty
did by now) and found an old passport of Betty's,but it had
expired."I
don't want to take my vacation with Betty",I told her,"I want
to take my
vacation with you." With her driver's license,her bank ID,and
some fancy
ootwork,we managed to get Nita a passport.While in the Bahamas,she
got her
name tattooed on her ass.
After we got back,we moved again,this time only a short distance.Betty
had
introduced herself to the neighbors in the last place,and
they had wondered
about us since they saw more of Nita than they did of Betty.In
the new place
Nita was Nita to everybody,even if it grossed them out.In
fact,Nita took very
few of her "Betty" things along on this move.
I had lunch with Betty a few times,just for variety,but now
that I knew life
with Nita I didn't understand what I'd ever seen in her.She
was so dull.
About this time Betty's brother,who had been ill in the hospital
for many
years,took a turn for the worse.He was the only relative she
had,and she
visited him often.Before long he died,and she had barely gotten
over that
when her boss,who had been less than understanding of the
situation,fired
her.Not wanting Nita to suffer over Betty's problems,I suggested
that she
get a job herself.
After she won another wet T-shirt contest,she managed to get
a job in a top-
less bar.It was just the kind of job that suited her.She was
nervous at first
over the fact that she was expected not only to hustle cheap
champagne but
be fondled and suck off customers for extra cash.I told her
it was okay as
long as she told me about everything,steered clear of disease(Nita
had her
own doctor now;Betty hadn't been to one since we moved),and
gave me the
money.If I wanted to live with Nita,I had to live with the
kind of woman Nita
was.I went to the bar often,not only watching Nita,but all
the people watch-
ing her.I placed bets with myself over whether customers would
ask her into
one of the private rooms.I was glad to see her become the
most popular
"hostess" in the place.
Through a regular at the bar we learned about a private sex
club and became
regulars there.Nita found a job at another topless bar that
paid a little
better,and I managed not to let anyone there know she lived
with me...as far
as they knew I was just another man who came to stuff tips
in her G-string
and buy overpriced booze from her.
One day Nita told me a patron had asked if she could appear
in an X-rated
movie he wanted to produce.After hearing that the man had
a good record in
the field,I told her to do it.All the men who'd seen her bod
in magazines
deserved a chance to see it on film,and those who'd seen her
in the flesh
deserved a permanent record.
We went to California,where Nita did the movie and got offers
to do several
more.The producer told us she was a real find,and paid to
have her boobs
enlarged a bit,but Nita felt being a movie star didn't fit
with her image as
a cheap slut,and decided to wait a few months at least before
doing another
picture.
We went to Reno,and in the tackiest quickie-wedding chapel
we could find,I
formally married my second wife,Nita.As we sped off in a rented
convertible,
Nita reached under her saucy minidress,took off her panties
and exuberantly
threw them out of the car.When we got home,I inserted a wedding
ring in her
nipple.
We gave away the last of Betty's clothes,and buried her college
diploma and
a few of her odds and ends in the back yard as a sort of funeral.There
really
wasn't any reason to have her around any more.
I love life with Nita.She's my kind of girl.