Dodging the Draft in the 1950s
He had me bent over the nice clean kitchen counter in our suburban home, taking me from behind,... He said, “I knew you were a pussy, Alex, but I didn’t really think you’d go this far to avoid serving your country! Dressing up like this and going to the draft board and convincing them you’re really my wife alexis… I don’t know which is worse, that she left me for that beatnik or that you look so much like her in her clothes!”
As he kept thrusting into me he kept ranting, “You should be ashamed, it’s your duty to serve your country, but if you’re not going to serve in the army and go to Korea to fight the commies like a man, you can serve me in the kitchen and in bed as my wife! You convinced the United States Government you’re Mrs. Alexis White, and so you’re just going to BE HER from now on!”
“Those new pills I was able to grab off the shelf from my pharmaceutical company sure worked fast, now you’re soft and curvy just like Alexis, and my buddy from the army when I was serving my country in a real war, he told me he’s been studying a new procedure to cut your little thing off so you can lay back and spread your legs for my like a good wife does and we can save your behind for special occasions!”
Then, in a parental tone a husband reserves for his domestic wife, he asked me, “Now what do you say, ALEXIS?”
If I don’t take his wife’s place he’ll report me and I’ll go to prison… looking like this! I’m going to be stuck as his traditional housewife!
The only thing I could say, using a feminine style and voice that matches Alexis, was, “Thank you for letting me serve you… Dear…”