10 May 2017

Dinner Party Preparations

 By: Ann Michelle

The night before the dinner, Loren and Stephanie sat in the kitchen.
They'd gathered the ingredients for the meal and had divided up the
cooking and table setting responsibilities.  Everything was ready for
tomorrow, except they had yet to discuss the obvious, a topic Loren was
incredibly anxious to discuss, but afraid to bring up:  what would he
wear?

Stephanie sat at the kitchen table with her arms folded and her legs
crossed.  A pink five-inch high-heeled, open-toed pump dangled from her
toes.  She'd gone out that morning to buy various items of clothing,
including a couple pair of five-inch heels.  She never would have
considered shoes like this in the past, but since she was playing the
role of Candi, she wanted to be faithful to the book.  Plus, she thought
it was kind of kinky.  And now that she wore them regularly, she was
surprised to find they weren't actually as uncomfortable as she imaged;
though that was because they had a three-quarter-inch platform, so they
really weren't much higher than her already high four-inch heels.

Loren sat across from Stephanie in his dark gray slacks, a white shirt
and black open-toed pumps.  His bright red bra showed clearly through
his shirt, especially as Stephanie had padded it slightly to give him
the appearance of having small breasts.  His dark red toenail and
fingernails stood out prominently as well.

"You know, as busy as we've been, we haven't had a chance to read much
further in Brandy's story," Stephanie said with a trace of
disappointment.

"I know.  I guess we'll have to wait until after the party to catch up
with Brandy and Candi," he said, suggesting for the first time that he
was willing to continue after the dinner.

Stephanie smiled, but didn't say anything directly.  "I wonder how our
author would handle a scene like our dinner party?" she asked.

"It would probably turn into an orgy," he said as he finished sorting
ingredients.

Stephanie laughed.  "Probably.  As you said, he lacks subtlety."  An
evil grin appeared on her lips, but she stifled it.  She waited a few
seconds.  "So you tell me, Mr. Author. . . sorry, Madame Author, how
would a decent writer handle a scene like our dinner party?  What would
you do to make the scene exciting?"

Loren folded his arms beneath his new breasts and crossed his legs in
the feminine manner Stephanie demanded.  "To make a dinner party
exciting, you need some sort of subtext.  You need double meanings and
little secrets going on, and you need to build suspense."

"Like what?  Give me an example," she said.

Loren failed to notice her intense interest.  "Well, the shared secret
that he's wearing women's underwear is a strong start.  You can build
all kinds of subtext from that.  Then you need a ticking time bomb,
something the audience knows is going to blow up on the main characters
but which they can't see.  Some sort of risk to up the stakes."

"You mean, like the guy's fly is open and he keeps getting ready to
stand up?"

"Nothing that obvious, but that's the general idea.  Something that
keeps the danger of getting caught right up there in the front of the
reader's mind."

"What else?"

"If I was writing it, I'd probably end it with a dramatic reveal where
the couple gets caught."

"What would happen then?"

"Well, in a real book, the people would storm out pretty upset at being
brought into a perverted sex game.  In porn, I supposed they would jump
in and play along."

"Give me some ideas for a ticking time bomb."

Loren shrugged his shoulders.  "Nothing comes to mind. . . maybe the
zipper thing, like you said.  Or if I wanted to go over the top, I'd
have the guy wear a skirt and have to find ways to keep from standing
up.  Then I'd have one of the characters drop a fork and keep meaning to
pick it up, but getting caught up in the conversation."

Stephanie smiled.

"Of course, none of that would work in real life," Loren said, still
oblivious to her keen interest.

"Oh, of course," she agreed, trying to hide her excitement.

"So what am I wearing tomorrow?"  He held up his fingernails.  "I'm not
wearing this."

"No, of course, not.  The idea is to keep this our secret."

"So what am I wearing?"

"That will be my little surprise."

--0--

It was an hour before the guests were to arrive.  Stephanie was excited.
She had decided to stay in the Candi character, despite the party.
Hence, she planned to wear more risqué clothes than she normally would.
Specifically, she decided to wear an ultra-tight pink mini-dress, which
she'd always avoided because she thought it was too tight, with pink
thong panties and no bra.  To this, she added multiple earrings,
something she rarely did, and the five-inch pink heels she bought the
prior day.  She painted her finger and toenails silver.  She couldn't
wait to see if anyone caught on to anything unusual about her. . . or
Loren.

Loren was a nervous wreck.  All day he'd been watching the clock tick
down and with each passing second, his terror grew.  When it finally
came time to change, he almost couldn't go through with it.  In fact, he
nearly begged Stephanie to change her mind, but he knew she wouldn't.

Loren stripped off his makeup and the nail polish from his fingers and
took a long hot shower to calm himself down.  He left the bright red
polish on his toes, as instructed.  He also made sure to shave his
entire body again so there was no stubble.  When he finished, he toweled
himself dry and stepped into the bedroom, where Stephanie had laid out
his clothes.  On the bed were pink panties, a pink bra, tan stockings,
some black dress pants he hadn't seen before, and a pinkish-red sweater
he hadn't seen before either.

"Where did the pants and sweater come from?"

Stephanie sat as her vanity table checking her makeup.  "I picked those
up when I got my new five-inch heels."

"Why?" he asked as he picked up the knitted sweater and turned it
uncomfortably in his hand.  It had a subtle heart pattern, a mock-
turtleneck and three-quarter sleeves.  The sweater sat on that fine line
where it was neither masculine nor feminine and how people perceived it
would probably depend on who wore it.

"I thought they would look nice on you."  She paused.  "You don't have
to wear the sweater if you don't want to," Stephanie said innocently,
"but the pink bra shows right through your dress shirt."

Loren shivered.  "No, I'll wear it," he said before sliding on the
panties and then attaching the bra.  He pulled the pantyhose up his
legs.  Then he walked over to his sock drawer.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked as she watched him in her
mirror.

"I'm getting some socks."

"No way, Laura."

"What?!"

"No socks.  You wear what I give you or nothing."

"But everyone will see I'm wearing pantyhose!"

"Don't be so paranoid.  They won't be looking at your ankles.  Besides,
the pants I got you are longer than your normal pants and will cover you
better."

Loren scowled.  "How can I wear longer pants?  I'll be stepping on them
all night and my wingtips will rip right through them," he said sharply.

"Don't get nasty with me Laura.  And if you want to wear shorter pants
and show everyone your pantyhose, that's fine by me.  Personally, if I
were as concerned about getting caught as you claim to be, then I would
choose the longer pants, but it's up to you."  She paused to watch
Loren's expression as he picked up the pants.  They were black but with
a nearly invisible reddish plaid pattern.  They had a hidden side
zipper, which was distinctly not masculine, and they were wider at the
bottom than they were in the leg.

"Oh no," Loren groaned.

"Oh yes," she said.  "And as for tripping over them, you won't be
tripping over them in your wingtips because you aren't wearing your
wingtips."  She rose and walked over to the side of the bed, where
sitting unnoticed by Loren, were a pair of Stephanie's black loafers.
These looked exactly like Loren's normal loafers except they had a one
and a half-inch block heel as compared to the half-inch heel his male
loafers had.

"I can't!"

"You can and you will!"

Loren stared at his wife.  "Everyone will know!"

"Only if you go around telling them.  Seriously, are you planning to put
your feet up on the table?  They look just like male loafers and with
the extra length in the pants, no one will notice a thing about your
shoes."

"But--"

"No 'but,' dear.  Get dressed."  She patted him on the rear before
returning to the vanity and the lipstick pencil in her hand.

Loren took a deep breath and got dressed.  When he finished, he examined
himself in the mirror.  He wasn't obviously feminine, but he wasn't as
masculine as usual either.  The sweater wasn't overtly feminine, but it
was tight, which allowed hints of the bra straps to show through at the
back.  Plus, Stephanie insisted on padding the bra ever so slightly,
which gave him the appearance of very small breasts.  The pants looked
masculine enough that no one would question them, unless they noticed
the missing zipper.  The loafers gave just a hint of something being
off, especially when he walked.  Fortunately for Loren, it was only a
hint and it wasn't enough to scream "women's shoes."  Where the problem
really began, however, was his face.  Stephanie miscalculated a bit on
his eyebrows the prior day and they had crossed over into "oddly
feminine."  Also, the way she had curled his collar-length hair to give
it a frizzy look made his hair seem effeminate.  The clear polish on his
fingernails didn't help either, as it gave his hands a soft, sparkly
appearance.  Would anyone who didn't know what to look for notice?
Loren didn't know, and that worried him.

Stephanie didn't know either.  But unlike Loren, it excited her to find
out.  And what excited her even more were the surprises she had planned
for poor Laura!


Chapter 6: "Feminine Roulette"

Loren wanted to wait at the table as the guests arrived so they never
got a chance to see his pants and shoes.  Stephanie wouldn't hear of it.
She made Loren open the door as she stood behind him so she could watch
their faces.  If they made him, she wanted to witness the moment.

First to arrive were Kathleen and Peter.  Kathleen was Stephanie's
friend since college and actually lived a few houses down.  She wore a
dark blue, figure-hugging, calf-length dress with a thin black belt and
basic mid-heeled black pumps.  She kissed Loren on the cheek before
hugging Stephanie.  She didn't seem to notice anything.  Her husband
Peter wore khaki pants and a blue blazer.  He shook Loren's hand and
also noticed nothing.  Stephanie was almost disappointed.

Moments later, Jane and Greg arrived.  Jane was Stephanie's friend from
work.  She wore black pants, a copper turtle-neck sweater, and reddish-
brown boots with a minor heel.  Greg wore brown corduroy pants, black
loafers and a tweed jacket.  They didn't notice anything either.

When they were all seated, Stephanie asked what everyone wanted to
drink.  She then fetched the drinks as the two couples and Loren started
the conversation.  She returned just in time for the evening's first
hiccup.

"Loren, I have to ask.  Are you wearing perfume?" Kathleen asked bluntly
as she took the wine glass from Stephanie.

The color left Loren's face.  "Uh. . . no, I'm not wearing it. . . uh,
well, actually yes, I am 'wearing' it, but I didn't put it on if that's
what you mean," said Loren, who sat between Kathleen and Jane and
directly across from Stephanie.

Kathleen cocked her head and looked confused, while Jane sniffed at
Loren.

"What I mean is, I was walking past Stephanie when she was putting on
her perfume and I inadvertently walked through a cloud of it," he
explained.  In truth, Stephanie shot him with a blast of her perfume as
he pulled on the sweater.  When he asked how he would explain this,
Stephanie responded that she was sure he would think of something.

Kathleen laughed.  "That's ok, sweetie, you smell pretty," she said and
she patted his hand.  But the moment she did, she raised an eyebrow and
looked down at his hand.  "Did you also happen to be walking past when
Stephie was doing her nails?"

Terror struck Loren and he froze, though his erection returned with a
vengeance.

Kathleen held up his hand.  "Unless I'm mistaken, someone got a
manicure!"

"Leave the poor fellow alone," said Peter.  "I'm sorry Loren, my wife
recently went to a drag show and she's been talking about it non-stop.
You'd think she was obsessed."

"Ignore him," she said drolly.  "Where do you get your manicures,
sweetie?"

Loren's face turned bright red.  "I, uh, don't.  I mean, this was the
first time.  I, uh, won a raffle and the prize was a manicure and I
figured it couldn't hurt to look good."

"Did you get your toes done too?" she asked.

"No," he said cautiously.

"You don't sound so sure, maybe we should check?" she said as she
pretended to look under the table.  Fortunately, she only pretended.

Loren instinctively shifted his feet away from Kathleen.

Kathleen turned to face Stephanie.  "I don't know, Stephanie.  Perfume.
. . nail polish.  It sounds like your husband's becoming a regular
sissy," she said with a laugh.

Stephanie laughed.  "Don't I know it!  You should have seen how hard I
had to fight to keep him from asking for cherry-red nail polish!  And
you wouldn't believe the lengths I have to go to protect my closet!  Who
knew being married to a sissy would be so much work!"  She winked at
Loren as all three women burst out giggling.  The husbands looked
uncomfortable.

Loren scowled.  "Give me a break!"

"What do you call her when she's dressed?" Jane asked, joining the joke.

"She calls herself 'Laura'!" Stephanie said.

"How precious!" squealed Kathleen.  "I'm trying to imagine Laura cooking
you dinner in her best little housewife dress."  She turned to Loren.
"Tell me Laura, do you prefer skirts or dresses?"

"Laura's more of a pants girl," Stephanie said.

Loren suddenly felt a rush of terror.  Was she about to expose him?

Kathleen threw her hand out in an exaggerated way and let her wrist drop
limp.  "Pshaw!  Sissy's don't like pants, they all wants skirts.
Nothing says 'feminine' more than a skirt."

"Personally, I think heels are more feminine," Stephanie said.

"Or panties!" Jane said.

"Oh, that's true," Kathleen said.  "So Laura, what have you found to be
the most feminine article of your new wardrobe?"

Loren gave her a sour look.  Before he could speak, however, Peter spoke
up:  "Leave the poor guy alone."

"Oh Peter," Kathleen said.  "Don't be such a spoilsport.  We were just
teasing Loren and he was being a great sport about it.  Then you had to
go and be a jerk about it."  She took a sip of her wine.  "Sometimes I
don't know how I married such a close-minded man!  Besides, it doesn't
matter what he wears.  If he really was wearing Stephanie's clothes,
then I say good for having such an evolved relationship."  She patted
Loren on the wrist as she said this.

Stephanie raised an eyebrow.  "You don't think it would be a little
weird for a wife to let her husband wear her clothes?"

"No, I don't."

"So it wouldn't bother you if Peter came home in a skirt?"

She laughed.  "I didn't say that!  He definitely doesn't have the legs
to carry off a skirt."  She rubbed her chin.  "But no, it wouldn't
bother me one bit.  I think the world would be a better place if more
men were in touch with their feminine sides."

"I'll drink to that," Jane said and raised her glass.  The other women
followed.  The men didn't.

After that, the conversation turned to other issues for some time.

--0--

Later, as Loren listened to Greg describe a work of art his museum had
restored, he felt Stephanie's feet wrap around his ankles beneath the
table.  She rubbed her foot up and down his leg beneath his pants.  He
couldn't wait for her feet to keep moving higher.  She winked at him.
He smiled back.  Suddenly her feet slid down on each side of his left
foot and yanked.  Somehow, she managed to pull his shoe off his foot.
His heart skipped a beat.  What was she doing!  If anyone looked under
the table right now, they could see his nylon encased foot and his red
painted toenails!

Then he felt her feet surround his other foot.  Pulling his foot away
would do no good because her feet were already in place, plus he
couldn't risk angering her because he needed the other shoe back.

Loren imperceptibly shook his head at her, pleading with her not to do
this.  She smiled and slowly nodded back.  He shook his head again.  A
sinister smile settled on her lips.  She nodded again and he knew it
would happen.  He bit his lip and let her slide the other loafer off his
foot and take it away.  He now wore no shoes, and if anyone dropped a
fork or napkin, or for any reason looked under the table, he would be
caught.  His heart raced as he waited to see what happened next.  He
felt his underarms begin to sweat.  But Stephanie seemed in no hurry to
do anything.  Instead, she turned her attention to the conversation and
exchanged several thoughts with Greg.  Loren waited pensively, not
knowing what to expect, terrified that someone would notice.  Minute
after minute he waited to be caught.

After what seemed like an eternity, he felt her foot again.  She dropped
his shoes, one at a time on top of his feet.  He breathed a huge sigh of
relief and maneuvered the shoes so he could slide his feet into them.
But when he slid his foot into the first shoe, he immediately realized
these weren't the loafers.  These were Stephanie's pink, five-inch
heels!

Loren shook his head as vigorously as possible without anyone noticing.
The sinister grin returned to Stephanie's lips.  She nodded.  Loren put
his finger together as if he was praying.  She shook her head.  Loren
pleaded with his eyes.  Stephanie squinted at him and appeared
momentarily like she would growl.  She tapped her fingernail once
against her wine glass.  Fortunately, the others were wrapped up in a
debate about the meaning of the painting Greg had described, so they
didn't notice this exchange.

Loren swallowed hard.  He had no idea where this was headed, but there
was only one way out, and that was to move forward and to hope that
Stephanie would quickly return his shoes before anyone noticed.  He
slipped his feet into the heels, knowing that if anyone looked under the
table now, he would be ruined.  He nodded to Stephanie.

A moment later, Stephanie rose from her seat.  "I need to check the
stove and then I'll be back with the soup."  She walked far enough away
from the table that Loren could see she wore his loafers.  Then she
stopped.  "Loren, can you come help me with the soup?"

Loren froze.  What was Stephanie thinking?  If he stood up now, there
was no way he wouldn't be caught.

"Well, are you coming?" she repeated.  He could see her smiling
mischievously.

"I. . . uh--"

"Oh wait," she said looking at her watch, "the soup won't be done for
another five minutes.  I don't need help yet, dear."  With that, she
disappeared into the kitchen.

As the others began discussing prior vacations, Loren sat there
terrified.  All it would take was for one of them to knock something off
the table or to get up to use the bathroom or visit Stephanie in the
kitchen and he would be exposed.  It would be impossible to miss the
bright pink high-heeled shoes on his feet.  He wasn't even sure if the
table cloth was long enough to keep Kathleen or Jane from seeing his
shoes if they just leaned back, or if Peter or Greg could see them if he
stuck his feet too far out the other side to hide them from Kathleen and
Jane?  Where exactly did he need to keep his feet to keep them hidden?
His mouth went dry.  Sweat dripped down his armpits.  Yet, he was
intensely erect.

Stephanie returned from the kitchen momentarily with a bottle of wine.
She gave it to Peter to open as he held the opener.  Then she asked
Kathleen about a broach she wore.  As she and Kathleen chatted about the
broach, Loren felt Stephanie's feet touch his feet again.  She wanted
her shoes back and he wasted no time in helping her.  He felt relieved
to be rid of the incriminating pink heels and even more relieved to feel
her slide the loafers back over to him. . . only, it wasn't the loafers.

At some point in the kitchen, Stephanie swapped out the loafers for some
other pair of shoes.  Loren couldn't see them, but he could feel they
had a higher heel than the loafers, though nowhere near as high as the
pink heels.  They also felt like they had a much narrower heel than the
loafers.  He couldn't tell for sure, but these seemed smooth and had a
closed toe.  He slid them on, but he was terrified what they looked
like.  For all he knew, they were bright red!  And he couldn't look
because he feared looking would draw Kathleen or Jane's eyes to his
feet.

Stephanie rose again.  "This time I really could use your help, dear."

Loren felt the sweat running down the sides of his chest.  He
desperately hoped she would change her mind and tell him to stay seated.
She didn't.  Slowly, reluctantly, Loren rose to his feet.  He realized
immediately, these shoes had a very thin heel because he had to balance.
Based on the added height, he estimated they had a two-inch heel, maybe
two and a half.  He prayed they were black, dull and unnoticeable.  Like
a condemned man, he stepped away from the table.  He took his first
step, unable to look down without drawing attention to himself.  Then
another, then another.  Soon he was in the kitchen, out of sight.  He
wanted to scream at Stephanie, but she grabbed him first and kissed him.

"This is sooo exciting!" she whispered and jumped up and down.

"It's terrifying!  How could you?!" he demanded, also in a whisper.

"Don't be such a sissy!"  He started to protest, but she told him to
stop.

"We need to serve food.  Just be a good girl tonight and follow my lead
and you'll come through this with your masculinity intact.  But mess up
and Jane and Kathleen will be all over you.  You'll be the new project
and they'll never let you become a man again!"

Loren gritted his teeth.  He had to trust her, he had no choice, but he
was starting to hate this game.  He enjoyed Stephanie teasing him, but
this was too much.  He took a deep breath.  Only then did he look down
at his feet.  He saw a pair of basic black pumps with a narrow two-inch
heel.  Fortunately, his long pants almost entirely covered them.

"Where are my loafers?"

"Oh, I didn't like those."

"I want them back?"

She smirked.  "Don't push me, dear," she sang, "unless you want to wear
mine again?  I'll happily make you wear them for the rest of the
dinner."

He shuddered.

She handed him the pot to take to the table.  "And if you want my
advice, don't draw any attention to your feet.  When you walk, the
pantyhose do show.  Also, you better be more careful walking on the
tiles in here because your heels make an awful racket."

Loren returned to the table quite nervous.  He had to admit though, it
was indeed thrilling.  But it was also sickening.  Twice more, Stephanie
called upon him to help her bring food from the kitchen.  Each time, he
was terrified someone would spot him and yell out:  "he's wearing
heels!"  But they didn't.

--0--

When they finished eating, it was time to clean up the dishes.  Loren
volunteered to stay behind as the others moved to the living room so he
could clear the table and clean the kitchen, but Stephanie made a big
show of having none of it.

"I'll clean up the table, dear.  You do so much around here already.
Why don't all of you go to the living room where Loren can serve you a
little Brandy and tell you about his latest book."

Her threat was clear.  So he agreed.

Loren managed to serve the drinks without anyone noticing his shoes,
mainly by keeping his knees slightly bent so his pants hung all the way
to the carpet.  It also helped that the others were already slightly
intoxicated from the wine, and thus weren't particularly observant at
the moment.  When everyone had a drink, Loren quickly sat down on the
couch where the coffee table could hide his feet.

"So Loren, what are you writing now?" Greg asked.

Just then Stephanie came from the kitchen.  "You're not going to believe
this, Greg!  Tell him what your agent told you, dear!"

"Hold on!  I'm not writing anything yet," Loren said defensively.

"Now I'm intrigued," Kathleen said.  "Why so defensive, Loren?"

Loren's face turned red.  He realized he just made a much bigger deal of
the issue.  "I just want to be clear.  I'm a political thriller writer.
What Stephanie is talking about is something my agent suggested, but I'm
not doing that."

"And what would that be?" Jane asked.

"Go on, dear," Stephanie prodded him as she sat down next to him and put
her hand on his knee.

Loren saw everyone in the room staring at him.  "She said porno is what
sells now," he said uncomfortably.

"Porno?!" said several of the surprised guests.

"Not just 'porno'," said Stephanie with a laugh.  She was tipsy as well
and Loren realized this could mean danger because alcohol tended to make
her very talkative.  "Tell them what kind of porno."

Loren's face turned even redder.  It wouldn't have bothered him to say
this a week ago, but the fact he was wearing panties, women's shoes and
a bra suddenly gave him a great deal of shame on this topic.
"Transvestite fiction."

"You mean like men in drag?!" Kathleen hooted.  Again, the husbands
looked uncomfortable.

"That's what she said sells right now," Loren added quickly.

"Well, you go girl!" Kathleen added.

Loren expected more, but it never came.  Instead, they moved on to other
topics.  And about forty minutes later, they decided to call it a night.
By this point, Loren figured he was safe as no one had mentioned
anything.  So when he and Stephanie saw the two couples to the door, he
thought nothing of it.  He wasn't even all that careful about hiding his
feet.

Then it happened.

With Jane and Greg already gone and Peter sliding on his coat, Kathleen,
who was still a little tipsy, dropped her purse.  She crouched down to
pick it up.  Loren looked down at her and suddenly realized she had a
clear view of his feet. . . less than an arms length away.  He felt his
stomach drop.  Had she noticed?  She must have noticed?

Kathleen stood up again, holding her purse, and gave Stephanie a huge
hug and peck on the cheek.  "Good night, dear.  Thanks for having us!"

"Anytime," Stephanie said and kissed her back.

Peter stepped through the door.  Then Kathleen hugged Loren and kissed
him on the cheek as well.  "Good night and no hard feelings, Laura," she
said quietly in his ear and giggled.

They were gone.

"Oh my God!  What a rush!" Stephanie squealed after she closed the door.
"We've got to do that again!"

"No way!  It was terrifying!" Loren responded.

"Don't give me that, you were hard as a rock all night.  You loved it!"

"I hated it!  And Kathleen knew!"

"She doesn't know."

"Yes she does!  She bent down and saw these damn shoes you made me wear
and then whispered 'Laura' in my ear!"

"You're overreacting.  She was just having one last joke with you about
the teasing she gave you earlier."

"No.  She knows!  I'm ruined."  He stormed off toward the kitchen with
his heels echoing each step along the way off the hardwood floor in
their hallway.  Stephanie followed him.  "And you told them!  Why did
you tell them?!" he demanded when they reached the kitchen.

"I never said anything."

A tear actually formed at the edge of Loren's eye.  "What were you
thinking making me swap shoes with you?  If one of them had dropped a
fork or something I was finished!"

"Aw, was the wittle girl scared?" Stephanie mocked him.

"And pumps?  It's bad enough you made me wear women's loafers, but
switching to pumps?!"

Stephanie smiled.  She walked over to him and placed her hand on his
rock hard penis through his slacks.  "I know what would help you forget
the night?"

"I'm not in the mood," he said, though he realized he was very much in
the mood.

"Not in the mood?  Not in the mood for a little reward for how well you
did tonight?"

She began to unzip his pants.  He had wanted to ejaculate for three days
now, but she wouldn't let him.  The thought that he would finally get
his wish wiped everything else from his mind.  He exhaled.  "You mean
it?"

"Of course, I mean it.  But there are two conditions."

He furrowed his brow.  "What conditions?"

"First, I'm on top.  You're too fast when you're on top."

"And the second?"

"I choose the lingerie."

He looked confused.  "I never get to choose your lingerie?"

"I mean yours."

29 April 2017

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

By: Londonpansy49

1. An unexpected announcement

It was just after 3 o'clock in the afternoon on a mid-May day in one of
the suburbs of London. Seven people were gathered together in the
sitting room of a semi-detached house entirely typical of the
neighbourhood, set in a small side street, but just off a busy High
Street. As it was still light, the curtains were not drawn but the light
had been switched on, so that any person walking by would be able to
glance in the room and see what was going on. And what was going on was
definitely not a scene which would be repeated in very many of the
neighbouring houses!

The room was comfortably furnished with a pair of two-seater sofas and a
single armchair. Five of the people in the room were sitting in them. On
each of the sofas a man and a woman were sitting and it was easy to see,
from the way that the man's arm was around the woman's shoulder and she
was leaning into his body, that they were an item. Sitting in the
armchair was a third woman. The two couples were each white people, in
the early to mid-thirties, but the other lady was black and slightly
older, probably in her mid-40s. However, in spite of her probable age,
she was attractive, being tall, heavy breasted and muscular. There was
something severe about her appearance, with her hair swept back off her
face and wearing little make-up apart from her crimson lipstick. This
feeling of sternness was enhanced by the plain white blouse and calf-
length black leather skirt she is wearing,  along with the 4 inch heeled
stilettos, making her over 6 feet in height.

Each of the five people was dipping into the food placed on a table set
before them in the room, filled with sandwiches of various types and
other dainties. Each of them was looking over the two occupants of the
room not sitting comfortably.

The subjects of the gaze were kneeling on the carpet facing the
armchair. I was one of the two kneeling. My name is Polly; I was wearing
a black baby-doll nightie, black ruffled panties, a black suspender belt
and black seamed stockings, with 3 inch heeled black court shoes. My
face was fully made up, with foundation, a pink blusher on the cheeks,
mascara, pink eye shadow (and lots of it) and pink lipstick. My finger-
and toenails were varnished in a shade to match my lipstick. The person
kneeling next to me was Molly. Molly was wearing a pink baby-doll
nightie, pink ruffled panties, a white suspender belt and white seamed
stockings, with 3 inch heeled pink court shoes. Molly's make up was
identical to mine.

You might think it odd that we were so dressed in mid-afternoon but that
was not the biggest oddity. I am, or rather was, a man, as was Molly.
Now we are a pair of sissy cuckolds under the domination of ours wives
and their ultra-masculine lovers. We are kneeling to hear our owners'
plans for the next few days.

The names of one of the couples are Jennifer and Ron. Jennifer is my
wife and Ron is her lover. The other couple are Christine and Jim.
Christine is Molly's wife and Jim is her lover. Christine is Jennifer's
younger sister. As far as Molly and I are concerned, they are Mistress
Jennifer, Mistress Christine, Master Ron and Master Jim. The two men are
entirely the physical opposites of Molly and me.  Molly and I are each
about 5 feet 6 inches in height and are slightly built. Master Ron is
nearly six feet in height and very well-muscled, the product of his work
as a bricklayer. Master Jim is over 6 feet in height, also muscular from
the sport he plays - rugby. Both of them happily use their physical
domination over us to keep us in the places we have been given - at the
bottom of the heap.

The four of them, via Jennifer, were announcing to the two of us their
plans for the weekend ahead. Neither Molly nor I had any idea what is
coming.

"Right, girls, now this is Belle, or rather Auntie Belle, as far as you
are concerned. She will be in charge of you until Monday night."

I glanced at Molly, who was also looking at me. Mistress Jennifer
stopped at this point and then chuckled to herself.

"I know exactly what is going through those sissy brains, I can read the
pair of you like a book, what is happening and where are our dear
Mistresses and Masters going? Isn't that right?"

We both nodded.

"Well, the four of us are off to Portugal for a long weekend and we'll
be back late on Monday. I could see, Polly, that you wanted to know what
I was up to in my bedroom - well, I was packing and my case is on the
bed, as are the cases of Chrissie, Ron and Jim. We moved them into the
house while you two were busy in the kitchen, preparing the lovely food
we are eating. As the cases are far too much weight for feeble sissies
like you, the real men here will go up and bring them down while
Christine and I explain what will happen over the next few days."

Our Masters then left the room. Mistress Christine then took over.

"Right, Molly and Polly, you will both be here until we get back and
under the control, I should say, the very firm control of Auntie Belle.
She has complete control over you while we are away, oh, except for one
thing. Get on your feet, drop your panties, take off your baby dolls and
assume the sissy inspection position."

We both teetered to our feet in our stilettos, removed our baby dolls
and panties, put our hands behind the backs of our heads, pushed our
breasts forward and our bottoms back. We both fixed smiles on our faces.
The three women laughed at our humiliating pose. The absence of panties
meant that our tiny cocks, both about 2 inches long when flaccid, could
be seen, while the removal of our baby dolls made the total absence of
any body hair, including any pubic hair, apparent. The hairless state
made our tiny dicks even more ridiculous. The degree of control
exercised over us was shown by the fact that our cocks were held firmly
in chastity devices, the clear plastic preventing any possibility of an
erection.

"As you see, Belle, the one thing you won't have control over are their
little pricks, as the keys to their restraints are on our persons at all
times. So, as we agreed when we spoke on your mobile, you can make them
do whatever you want, except get them hard. If you want to have a full
inspection before our taxi arrives, please go ahead. They're your
sissies for the next three days! Did you make use of the measurements I
sent you to get any items for them?"

Our controller for the next three days smiled, but there was no mirth in
it.

"Thank you, Christine, I certainly did buy a few things and I'll take up
your invitation to have a good feel. How long is it since either was
allowed to cum?"

"Both of them had a wank on Christmas Day, as part of their present, and
they've been in their chastity devices since."

"So they must be begging for relief, well, I can make use of that, oh
yes."

As this conversation was continuing, Auntie Belle, as I knew that we
must call her or face the consequences, was fondling my body, holding my
ass cheeks apart and stroking my testicles - with the inevitable result
of a failed attempt to get hard. All the women laughed. Belle again
smiled her wintry smile.

"Yes, ladies, you have done a good job on them, so I know that I am
going to enjoy this so much. Now, to be clear, are these sissies cock
trained, as I might invite a couple of male friends over?"

The Mistresses laughed.

"Oh, yes, Belle, when it's our time of the month, our lovers regularly
use the sissies as a substitute."

I flushed with embarrassment at the ease with which my regular rogering
was discussed.

"I see that both of them have developing breasts. Are they on pills and
creams?"

"Yes, my Jim is a doctor, so he prescribes them; they've been on them
for about three months now. Jim reckons in about another three months
they'll totally lose any ability for their little willies to get hard
and they should have nice tits by then. The pills and creams are in my
bedside cabinet; just pop the pills in and smooth the cream in every
morning."

With that, Auntie Belle nodded and then gave my developing breasts
another fondle and my increasingly sensitive nipple a pinch. I reacted;
she smiled.

"And what about butt plugs and dildos?"

"They've had butt plugs up them, as part of a punishment when either has
been naughty. But not the dildo."

"Do you mind if I introduce them to the strap-on?"

Mistress Jennifer laughed and clapped her hands, while Mistress
Christine just giggled.

"No, Belle, feel free!" said Jennifer.

"OK, ladies, I think that is all. Oh, and public exposure, is that OK?"

I again looked at Molly. There had been regular parties at the house
where people had seen us, including people we had worked with, and we
had worked as maids in other houses in the neighbourhood, but full-on
public exposure was new - and alarming. Both Molly and I had clung to
scraps of our former identities by keeping part-time jobs, even if they
were menial and although our obvious feminization rendered us laughing
stocks; mine was as the office junior in the firm where I had been a
manager, while Molly was also the junior in the office of the store he
had run when a man. But we were not on open display. Now it seemed
likely that anyone would see us as sissies.

Our Mistresses exchanged glances. Mistress Jennifer shrugged her
shoulders.

"Why not? It's about time that everyone knew what a pair of pansies they
are. Care to tell us what you had in mind?"

"Jennifer, if you don't mind, I'll keep that secret from you until you
come back, so you can enjoy being told all about the experience." She
smiled, even more wolfishly than before. I shuddered at the thought of
the humiliation that was to come. Mistress Jennifer smiled, nodded
agreement and then turned to us.

"Right, pansies, you now know the score. Auntie Belle will be in charge.
She obviously has full rights to punish you if you do misbehave but I
hope for your sakes that she can tell me that you were perfect. I know
that I speak for Mistress Christine and your Masters as well as me, in
saying that, if you get a bad report, any punishment Auntie Belle gives
you for the original fault will be as nothing to what you get when we
get back. So do not let us down! And on your knees!"

We knelt as ordered and both hung our heads as we thought about what we
had been told.

At that moment, the doorbell rang. In the house, it was normally my duty
to answer the door but Mistress Jennifer peremptorily told us to remain
where we were. The door was answered and Master Jim called out.

"Taxi's here. Come on, girls."

With that, our Mistresses got up, wished Auntie Belle good bye and left
the room. There was not a word for us. I heard the door shut on the
sounds of four happy people going off on a long weekend of sun, sea and
lots of sex.

2. Auntie Belle's first tasks

All that Molly and I could do was await our first interaction with the
woman who would dominate us for the next three days. I was conscious of
her gaze upon us both.

"As sissies cannot understand very much, I keep to a few basic
principles. I am in charge and you sissies are here to follow my orders?
Is that clear?"

"Yes, Auntie Belle." We both murmured.

"And by following my orders, I mean completely and promptly; dawdling
and suggesting that you don't like an order will lead to punishment -
and a bad report to your Mistresses. You know from what Mistress
Jennifer said what that means when they are back. Right, although your
Mistresses have done a decent job on you, I saw from the way you dared
to show a negative reaction to public exposure that you still have some
small streak of rebelliousness in you. Well, I'm going to go a long way
over the next three days to getting rid of that."

She stopped and glared at us. We hung our heads in realisation that the
next few days would be very humiliating and probably very painful.

"OK, now we understand each other, let's get on. Get off your knees and
put your panties back on, but leave the baby dolls off. I've just got a
few things to get out of my bag to help you get started."

With that, Auntie Belle turned in the chair and lifted a large suitcase,
with ease, from behind the sofa and in front of her. She unlocked it.
She first removed from the case a strap which a moment's glance revealed
was a tawse, with its split ends and its prospect of painful punishment.
After this, she took out two waist aprons, a large bottle of Vaseline
and two large butt plugs, closing the case after removing them, and
again placing the case behind the sofa. She first lifted up one of the
aprons, showing us the front, smiling as she did so.

The aprons were white, frilled around the edges and very similar to
maid's aprons we had worn before - with one exception. Embroidered on
the apron in bold pink lettering were two words - Sissy Cuckold.

"You will wear these aprons whenever I tell you and you will put them on
now. Do so!"

Both Molly and I put the aprons on, fastening the aprons with a big bow
at the back, as we had been trained to do.  Auntie Belle made us turn
around so that she could check on the bow.

"Good, that will do nicely. Now for the butt plugs, as one of these up
your bum is the best reminder to a sissy cuckold of his status."

With that, Auntie Belle rose from the chair and picked up the Vaseline
jar and one of the butt plugs. She walked behind me.

"Bend over and lower your panties to your knees."

I obeyed and felt fingers invade my rectum, greasing me up. But even
with the greasing, it was still a shock as Auntie Belle brutally thrust
the butt plug inside me. I felt totally filled, totally humiliated and
completely sissified. Auntie Belle then repeated the process with Molly,
who seemed on the verge of tears after the invasion.

"Now don't you girls pretend that you don't like a big butt plug up you.
When there isn't a cock available, all you sissies love whatever is
available to go up your bums. Right, panties up!"

She then returned to her chair and again picked up her bag and opened
it. This time she took out two short and thick cut pieces of wood,
roughly finished and handed one to each of us. She returned to the bag
and pulled out two small, straight-bladed pairs of scissors, again
giving us one each.

"I noticed when I arrived that the front lawn needs trimming in places.
Use the planks to kneel on; you should, if you work as hard as you
should, be able to finish before nightfall."

After finishing, she smiled and then giggled.

"OK, off you go, Molly, you do the right hand side of the garden facing
the door, so, Polly, you do the left side of the garden. We'll have a
prize for the one who does the best job by, say 6 o'clock; the winner
will get six with my tawse and panties on, but the loser gets 12 and
panties lowered."

Both Molly and I turned slowly and reluctantly towards the door of the
sitting room. Our unwillingness made an immediate impression on Auntie
Belle.

"I warned you that I don't accept dawdling when it comes to carrying out
orders. So, sissies, get out in that front garden NOW!"

I was closer to Auntie Belle when she delivered this tirade and it was
immediately followed by a sharp blow to my bottom from the tawse. That
persuaded me to pick up my pace, to open the front door and get into the
garden. Auntie Belle followed.

"Right, girls, I want you facing the door while working; I don't want
you flashing your tits at all the men passing by. Start at the top of
the lawn, nearest the door, working from left to right, and then work
your way down. Better work hard; I wouldn't want you catching cold. I'll
just slip a coat on while I watch you work."

I realized that the real reasons we were to face the door were that we
could not see who was looking at us, all passers-by, on foot or in cars,
would have a clear view of our pantie-clad behinds and anyone who looked
closely at our panties would see the butt plugs inside us. So the result
was total humiliation. I went to the appointed section, to the spot
where work should start, put the plank down, knelt on it and starting
"trimming" the lawn; what else could I do?

The next two hours were undoubtedly the most humiliating of my life -
until then, at least. All passers-by saw us wearing nothing but panties,
suspender belts, stockings and shoes, with our pantie-clad bottoms high
in the air as we leant forward to use the ridiculous scissors in our
equally absurd task. The first few people who went by on foot either
laughed or wolf-whistled or made crude and derogatory remarks about
"queers" and "exhibitionist fairies". Whenever a car drove by, I steeled
myself for comments, which were often made, accompanied by tooting of
the horn.

It was not long before the main problem associated with the task became
obvious; after a few minutes kneeling on the hard and rough plank, knees
would start to hurt. After putting up with the increasing pain for as
long as I could, I put the scissors down, placed my hands on the ground
and lifted my knees off the plank. Within a few seconds, Auntie Belle
was down the garden path and advancing on me, clearly furious. She
started shouting.

"Who gave you permission to stop working, you lazy cow! Pick up those
scissors at once and get on with the task I have given you. How dare you
act without asking me!"

She then moved behind me and delivered three vigorous blows on each
buttock cheek. Needless to say, I quickly picked the scissors, knelt on
the plank and carried out trimming the lawn. Auntie Belle then spoke to
us.

"If you have to stop work, raise your hand that is not holding the
scissors and wait until I have given you permission to speak, then ask
for the right to stop working, giving your reasons. I shall then decide
whether or not the reason you have given is good enough."

At that, Molly raised his hand. Auntie Belle looked at him.

"Yes, Molly, what is it?"

"Please, Auntie Belle, can I stop work for a moment, just to raise my
knees off this plank, as it's hurting a lot."

"No, you may not, if you were concentrating on doing a good job of work,
you wouldn't notice, so get on - and no hands up from either of you for
the next 15 minutes."

Even after this, every few minutes, Auntie Belle would stride into the
garden to check on our work; this was accompanied by sneers of derision
as to how little we had accomplished, followed by two or three hard
blows from her tawse, delivered with her considerable force behind them.
These punishments were generally accompanied by remarks such as:-

"Sissies need to be encouraged to work hard." Or

"A good belting only ever improves sissy servants."

After a while, the mixture of the pain from both increasingly sore knees
and bottom and the shame and humiliation from the exposure meant that I
started to sob. This provoked an immediate reaction from Auntie Belle.

"Shut that noise, Polly, or I really will give you reason to wail! Never
heard such nonsense, sissies daring to moan over a simple task, I think
that I am going to have your Mistress a very bad report for you when she
comes back."

I managed to control my sobbing and resumed my efforts to trim the lawn.
Then, a few minutes later I thought, I heard the click of high heels
come up to where we were working and then come to a stop.

"Well, I assume that it's you, Molly and Polly, I see that your
Mistresses have extended your duties and in such a fetching outdoor
uniform, at least, you won't get anything important too dirty. Oh, and
who are you?"

I knew the voice. It was Philippa Connor, who lived two doors away and
had frequently been a guest of my Mistress at several of her dinners or
parties. Mrs Connor, as she was to me, was a divorcee of around 40, with
two teenage sons, she was a very attractive blonde; I felt that it was
doubly humiliating that a woman I could have fancied, had I not been
changed into being a sissy, should now catch me in the most demeaning
moment yet of my sissy life.

I was conscious of Auntie Belle walking down the garden path towards the
gate and engaging in conversation with Mrs Connor as she did so.

"Good afternoon, my name is Belle. Jennifer has gone off on a long
weekend in Portugal with her lover, Ron, as well as her sister Christine
and her lover, Jim, so somebody was needed to look after these two
sissies. So I agreed to keep them on the straight and narrow, as it
were. I am a strong believer that sissies need to be kept busy, need
firm discipline and benefit from consistent humiliation, so I thought
that a little light gardening might be a good start. I also thought that
a little reminder of the status of these two would be helpful. Girls,
stop what you are doing, stand up and turn around so that the lady can
see your lovely new aprons."

We obeyed and Mrs Connor laughed when she saw the embroidered text on
the apron.

"Well, I know from what Jennifer has told me at her lovely parties that
is an entirely accurate description of both her Polly and her sister's
Molly. Well, I won't keep these two from their work. In fact, seeing
these two gives me an idea. As well as my two boys, I was going to have
both my sister and her husband and my brother and his wife over for
dinner on Sunday night and was thinking of inviting Mr and Mrs Armitage,
who live in the house between us - I live two doors away. Why don't you
come and bring the sissies? I am sure that we can find a use for them,
with ten people sitting down to dinner. Neither of my siblings or their
other halves have met Molly and Polly and I'm sure they'll love the
experience, so do come. My name is Philippa, by the way, Philippa
Connor."

"Thank you, Philippa, the invitation is kind of you, of course I accept,
on my behalf and on behalf of the sissies. How nice it is that I can
just make that decision without having to worry at all about what those
sissies think. What time?"

"Oh, I think that I could use them from about half past six on, as they
can answer the door and entertain my guests while I'm cooking. See you
then."

"Fine, at half past six then, I'll have them appropriately dressed. OK,
girls, back to work, but first a nice curtsey to Mrs Connor and a thank
you to her for the invitation."

"Thank you, Mrs Connor, for the invitation." This was accompanied by a
deep curtsey. We then turned back to the task set for us.

Over the next hour, there were several conversations between Auntie
Belle and other neighbours, as people were surprised but also deeply
amused by the sight we made.  Then came the sound which I dreaded most,
the long, regular, heavy tread of a man, in this case, the next door
neighbour, Mr Armitage. He and his wife were regular attenders at the
dinners and parties which my wife gave and both of them delighted in
taunting and humiliating Molly and me.

The first sound was a loud guffaw.

"Well, well, well, two fairies at the bottom of the garden - and hard at
work, as well. What has your Mistress required to do?"

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Auntie Belle walking down the garden
path.

"Carry on with your task, girls. Hello, my name is Belle. Jennifer is
away for a few days with her lover, Ron, as well as her sister and her
lover, in Portugal, for a bit of sun, a bit of sea and lots of sex. She
asked me to look after this pair of sissy cuckolds while she is away.
And you are...?"

"I'm Roy Armitage, I live next door with my wife, Marjorie,
unfortunately she's away at her sister's house, God, she will be sorry
to have missed the sight of these two sissies doing the garden."

He then broke out laughing, almost fit to burst. Auntie Belle joined in.
I flushed with the humiliation.

"Yes, Roy, I do think that it was not a bad idea of mine, was it? You
said your wife was away, does that mean that you are on your own this
weekend?"

"Yes, it does."

"Well, why don't you come over later and spend the evening here? We
could order a takeaway, as I don't know the area I'll be guided by you."

"Well, thanks, Belle, I'll take you up on that. There's a very good
Chinese just around the corner who do deliveries to the door."

"OK, shall we say 6.30 here, and we can choose then. Bring a menu and a
bottle of wine, will you, Roy?"

"Righto."

I then heard his footsteps move away.

After about another half an hour, or so I guessed, Auntie Belle spoke.

"That will have to do. Roy will be around in 45 minutes or so and I want
to look my best for him. So I'll check your efforts."

With that, she moved down the garden and looked at the two areas of
lawn, which we had "trimmed" in accordance with her orders.

"I don't think that I've seen a more pathetic attempt at carrying out my
orders in years. I can't work out which is less bad. So you will both
get punished as losers, and with double punishment. You will each get
twelve strokes of the tawse on each buttock. Now, into the house, you
idle pair of fairies!"

3. The first evening

Two minutes later, Molly and I were in the sitting room, facing the
window but bent over for punishment, panties down to our ankles,
awaiting the inevitable. About the only good thing was that Auntie Belle
had removed our butt plugs and put them in the kitchen. Auntie Belle was
behind us and I heard the swish as she swung the tawse through the air,
just to build up the sense of fear in her two victims.

"Right, Molly, you are first. Polly, while I am punishing Molly, rather
than standing there like a useless, idle sissy, you can take my case up
to the principal guest bedroom, which is what your Mistress said I could
use. I take it you know where that is? Take your panties off first."

I removed my panties and handed them to Auntie Belle, who threw them
onto one of the sofas.

"Yes, Auntie Belle, it's on the top floor and it has its own shower and
all other facilities."

"Good, just put the case on the bed, I shudder to think what a mess you
would make of hanging my dresses up. Once you've done that, come back
down to the kitchen and wait at attention until I call you after I've
finished with Molly."

I quickly walked over to where Auntie Belle had put her case and picked
it up. It was heavy and it would not be easy for me to carry it up four
flights of stairs while wearing 3 inch heels.  Nonetheless, I managed to
pick up and walked over to the door, then passed out and up the stairs.
As I left, I heard Auntie Belle telling Molly about the behaviour
required while she took her punishment.

Very carefully placing one foot before the other, I ascended the four
flights of stairs to the bedroom that Auntie Belle was going to occupy
and placed the case on the large, comfortable double bed that she had,
so different to the narrow single bed that was now my lot, except when I
was required for oral service by my Mistress and her lover.

I then moved as swiftly as I could back down the stairs. As I descended,
I heard the swish of the tawse and the loud crack as it landed on
Molly's buttocks. I was conscious that she was sobbing from the effects
of the punishment. Not wishing to be accused of eavesdropping, I
scurried into the kitchen and stood at attention, awaiting the call.

I heard Molly come down the corridor and she entered the kitchen. She
had her baby doll nightie on once more but her panties had been shoved
into her mouth. Her hands were folded on top of her head and I could see
that she had been crying. I thought it sensible to remain at attention,
a position which Molly also took up.

"Polly, get in here!"

With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I headed into the sitting room,
where Auntie Belle was standing, idly swinging her tawse. She turned to
me.

"Bend over, Polly, right over, so that your wrists are near your ankles.
As I have found out from Molly that you don't know how to behave when
getting punished, I am going to fix you in position."

A couple of minutes later, I was bent over, with my left wrist fastened
to my right ankle and my right wrist to my left ankle. I was unable to
move and completely at the mercy of the woman given control over us.

"Right, Polly, for that display of idleness in the garden, not to
mention that display of sluttishness, I noticed you wiggling your bottom
when you heard somebody go by, in the hopes that it was a man, I guess,
you will receive twelve strokes of my tawse on each cheek.

After each stroke, you will announce the number and thank me for
correcting you. After the last stroke, you will rise, curtsey, thank me
and promise me that you have learnt your lesson and will be a totally
obedient, hard-working and chaste sissy maid from now on. Are my
instructions clear?"

"Yes, Auntie Belle."

"I shall start on your right cheek."

Nothing then happened for a few seconds as Auntie Belle allowed the
vulnerability of my position to sink in. Then the first blow fell. I
choked back the cry and made the necessary statement.

"One, thank you, Auntie Belle, for correcting me."

The blows continued to fall and after each one I made the humiliating
statement, but more slowly each time and with more and more of a sob in
the voice until I was crying freely. My buttocks were turning redder and
redder from the blows delivered firmly with the savage leather belt.
Eventually the end was reached, after the twenty fourth stroke. I
managed to collect myself. After Auntie Belle had removed the ropes
holding me in position, I rose and curtseyed to Auntie Belle.

"Thank you, Auntie Belle, for correcting me. I promise that I have
learnt my lesson and will be an obedient, hard-working and chaste sissy
maid from now on."

"Good, Polly, let's hope you live up to that, because the next time, the
penalty will be doubled and I shall use the cane. Now put your baby doll
nighties on and pick up your panties from the sofa and put them in your
mouth. Then we'll go into the kitchen."

I obeyed her and preceded Auntie Belle into the kitchen. On the way, she
could not resist fondling my sore buttocks. When we arrived in the
kitchen, Molly was still at attention.

"Right, girls, you both look a sight, with your makeup ruined by your
tears. I won't have sissy servants looking a mess, so upstairs to your
bathroom, wipe all that off and reapply it. I want you back down here
inside 10 minutes and if you're not, it'll be another session with the
tawse. Remember to put your panties back in your mouths before you come
back down."

Molly and I went upstairs as fast as possible in our high heels, took
off our makeup and reapplied foundation, blusher, mascara, eye shadow
and lipstick. We were down within the allotted time - just.

"Good, girls, you've just avoided another belting. I have a guest
arriving for dinner in twenty minutes, so the next thing is to set the
table in the dining room for 2 people.   You should also put plates on
the floor, as you will be having some of the food, but obviously not at
the table. I could let you eat in the kitchen but I think that it would
be better if you stayed under my eye where I can check on what you are
up to. Right, get on with it!"

Molly and I quickly set the table in the dining room for the two people
who would be dining in comfort. We set the plates on the floor as
directed; from the position, it was clear that we would be watched by
the diners while having our food. As we worked, Auntie Belle lit and
smoked first one and then a second cigarette, stubbing them out having
only taken a few puffs.

"Right, girls, there will be two callers tonight. Firstly, Roy will be
here and then, after we have ordered our Chinese meal, there will be a
deliveryman. Obviously, you will answer the door, dressed just as you
are; be hand in hand when you go to the door and when you open it. There
will be no need for you to talk, just invite Mr Armitage in and don't
forget your curtseys to a guest in the house. I'll pay for the Chinese
on my credit card, so all you have to do is give the man his 50p tip
after taking the food off him. So, go and wait in the hall for Mr
Armitage to arrive, and at attention. I am going upstairs to change for
my dinner date. If Mister Armitage arrives before I come back
downstairs, take him into the sitting room and look after the bottle of
wine he is bringing."

I took Molly's hand and we went into the hall, while Auntie Belle went
upstairs to her room. I was apprehensive about Mr Armitage's reaction to
two pantie-less sissies, whose tiny, restrained cocks were in full view
but, at least, he had seen us before. I was more upset about being seen
by a deliveryman from the Chinese restaurant as I was sure that he would
report the incident back to everyone at the restaurant. And from there
the news could spread to other High Street shops.

The minutes crept by as we waited in the hall. Auntie Belle had not
returned downstairs when the front door bell sounded. Molly and I, hand
in hand as ordered, opened the door to Mr Armitage, who burst out
laughing when he saw us.

"Well, well, well, are your cocks ready for action? Oh no, they can't
be, can they, as they are in restraint, so you can't get a hard-on, so
you wouldn't be much help to a woman - or a man, indeed."

With that jibe, he entered the house, removing his overcoat, which he
just threw at us. Fortunately, Molly caught it. We walked ahead of him,
leading him to the sitting room. Of course, this provided him with a
first class view of our reddened buttocks, which drew another guffaw.

"Looks like you fairies haven't been working hard enough to satisfy a
demanding Mistress, doesn't it?   Well, it'll teach you a lesson. If I
were in charge of you, I give you a good dose of the slipper every day,
just as a reminder of your place. "

We walked to the entry to the sitting room, turned and executed our
curtseys and pointed into the room. Mr Armitage walked in, handing Molly
both a bottle of wine and a menu, then sauntered over to the sofa and
sat down.

"You pair had better get out into the hallway and be attention if those
were your Mistress's orders. I take it she's getting ready upstairs, is
she?"

All that Molly and I could do was point at our panties stuffed into our
mouths.

"I can see that the pair of you have got knickers in your mouths. You
fairies have no end of perversions, do you? Just take the knickers out
and answer my question?"

Now, as I am sure Auntie Belle was aware, we were caught. If either of
us removed our panties and answered the question, once Auntie Belle was
aware of that, she could regard it as disobedience and punish us
accordingly.  But, on the other hand, a failure to answer a direct
question from a guest could be regarded as rudeness and also give rise
to punishment. We knew that it was completely unfair, but then that was
the lot of sissy cuckolds.

As we hesitated over which course to take, Auntie Belle came into the
sitting room.

"Roy, I heard you arrive. I was just putting the finishing touches to my
appearance. Will I do as your date for tonight?"

There was of course only one answer to that. Auntie Belle was wearing an
ankle-length evening gown in royal blue, which was slit to the thigh on
the right hand side of the dress. The dress was low-cut to a very
revealing extent, which merely heightened the appeal of her splendid
breasts, as she almost spilled out of the dress. Her make-up was
restrained but effective, with mascara on her lashes and a scarlet
lipstick. She looked gorgeous. I could not help it; my cock stirred in
its prison, but had to subside. Mr Armitage, without such a constraint,
immediately had an enormous and very visible hard-on. He rose from the
sofa, walked up to Auntie Belle, put one arm around her waist and kissed
her passionately on the lips.    Of course, he was making a point to us
sissies; our role in relation to Auntie Belle was that a shameful, un-
masculine submission and subjection, while his was that of manly
partner, with rights to penetration, if the lady was willing.

After many seconds had passed, Mr Armitage drew his lips away from
Auntie Belle, who smiled.

"I'll take that as a 'Yes' then. Have the sissies taken care of you?"

"Well, they've got the wine and the menu, mind you, I thought it
disrespectful when they wouldn't answer a direct question."

"They did, or rather didn't do, what?"

"I asked them where you were and all they did was point at the knickers
in their mouths."

Auntie Belle turned and stared at the pair of us. I felt my knees quake
at its cold ferocity.

"I can see that you two need another dose of the tawse. I am nice to you
and allow you to make yourselves look ridiculous by having your panties
in your mouth and you take liberties by being disrespectful to my guest.
Get out into the hallway at attention and wait until I need you. Give me
the wine and the menu, I don't trust either of you with uncorking the
wine. Roy, I'll let you choose the meal, I like chicken and rice, but
you can get the flavours."

With that, Auntie Belle seized the bottle from Molly and we were
dismissed. Of course, we knew that we had been treated completely
unjustly but knew that any protest, as a suggestion that Auntie Belle
might be wrong, would just lead to greater punishment. So we minced out
of the room and waited in the hall, hand in hand but otherwise at
attention.

Auntie Belle passed into the kitchen, we heard the cork being drawn and
her return to the sitting room with two glasses.

"Roy, would it amuse you more if we had the two sissies in the room,
facing the corners, so we can examine their well beaten bums, or do you
just not want to see the useless faggots?"

"Well, Belle, if we have them in the room, we can make absolutely sure
that they are not up to any mischief. Out of sight, they might think
about things like stroking each other's little dicks."

"Right, get in here, you two."

Molly and I entered the room and were told to occupy corners where we
could easily be seen by both Auntie Belle and Mr Armitage. We were then
told to lift our baby doll nighties so that our reddened, well-beaten
buttocks were on full view.

"You see, Roy, when dealing with sissies, you have to understand that
there are three, no four things that they need above all else. The first
of these is hard work, as a sissy exists to make life comfortable for
her Mistress or Master, so "a busy sissy is a happy sissy" is my first
motto. Secondly, a sissy needs to be humiliated regularly, just to
reinforce the fact that a sissy is now under control and what she wants
is not at all important, so being made to look and feel ridiculous, as
long as it amuses the Mistress, is essential. Thirdly, a sissy needs to
be punished, as this also shows that the Mistress is on top and the
sissy is underneath. Lastly, the sissy needs to be kept in sexual
denial; after all, sex is for a man and a woman and the sissy is neither
- she's just a sissy.

So, now you see why I had these two in the garden once I took control of
them. The work was good for them, the humiliation was lovely for
everyone who saw it and made them squirm and their inevitable failure to
meet my standards mean I had reason enough for sharp punishment. And as
for denial, well that has been well handled by their permanent
Mistresses. Right, turn around you two and start playing with your
little weeny-peenies!"

Molly and I turned around and began touching our tightly restrained
dicks. I looked up and saw that Auntie Belle had unzipped Mr Armitage's
trousers and was freeing a very large penis, stroking it with the back
of her hand as he did so. Mr Armitage was lying back on the sofa,
clearly enjoying the attention. Auntie Belle looked at me, then at Molly
and smiled.

"Now this, sissies, is what I call a cock. Something like this is what
is needed to satisfy a real woman - it's eight inches and thick with it.
No wonder your wives had to get lovers, with your pathetic two inch
dicks. Roy, I'd just love this in my pussy, I'm sure that it will be
more satisfying than relying on the tongues of these two sissies. So,
please stay over."

"Sure thing, Belle, my motto is 'never disappoint a lady.'"

Both of them laughed at this. Molly and I carried on with our playing
with ourselves, but every time either of us became a little hard, the
unyielding plastic of the restraint cut any pleasure short. As we
continued with our utterly frustrating game, Mr Armitage and Auntie
Belle chose from the menu and Auntie Belle rang up to place the order.

"It'll be half an hour. Right, you two, stop that wanking, turn and face
the wall, take your knickers out of your mouths and count up to 1,000.
After that, stuff your panties back in your mouths, then go and wait in
the hall, at attention and holding hands; I'll bring you the money for
the tip in a few minutes, after Roy and I have taken the opportunity to
get much better acquainted."

Molly and I turned again to the wall, removed our knickers and counted
out the required number, then, after replacing the knickers, we went
into the hall, waiting the next humiliation. All the time we faced the
wall, we could hear Mr Armitage and Auntie Belle kissing passionately.
About ten minutes later the ringing of the bell meant that the Chinese
meal had arrived.

Molly and I went to the door and opened it. A young man, clearly of
Asian extraction, was at the door. He started off by going through his
usual routine.

"Takeaway order, already......."

Then he really looked at the sight which faced him of two sissy males,
with panties in mouths, wearing only baby doll nighties and lingerie,
curtseying. He burst out laughing. We both flushed with the shame of our
continued exposure. Then we heard Auntie Belle's voice behind us.

"Why do you sissies not have your panties on when you answer the door,
and why are your butt plugs not up your bums? I suppose you thought
that, by wearing no knickers, you could appeal to some young man? Go and
get your butt plugs now!"

Turning to the young man at the door, Auntie Belle continued to speak.

"I do apologize for the conduct of my sissies, but they really are
totally brain-dead. The only thing they can ever concentrate on is the
male anatomy - particularly one part of it. That's why they're without
panties, hoping that they can pull. This is so rude of them you can rest
assured they'll be severely punished. Now, this will just take a moment
and then I can pay you, but I do insist that my sissies are properly
dressed when they carry out their chores, such as opening the front
door."

There was nothing that we could say; as obedient sissies, all we could
do was obey the orders of this dominant woman, return to the kitchen and
pick up our butt plugs. We returned to the hall, where Auntie Belle was
waiting.

"Give me the butt plugs. Bend over the pair of you, with your bottoms to
the door."

We had to accept this humiliation, which was followed by the greater one
of having the butt plugs driven swiftly back into place.

"Now, girls, put your panties on. Molly, here is the 50p piece. Hand it
to this kind young man and then both of you can take our dinner through
to the dining room."

Molly did as ordered and the young deliveryman left, still smiling
broadly, with a tale to tell once he returned to the High Street shop.
Molly and I then carried the meal into the dining room, followed by
Auntie Belle. We removed the cartons from the bags, placing them on the
table.

"Roy and I can serve ourselves. But you can make yourselves useful,
Molly, go and fetch two cans of baked beans from the kitchen, along with
the packet of sugar. Polly, you can pick up the ashtray with my stubbed
out cigarettes in it and bring it here as it is. Then, once you have put
those on the table, you can stand in the corners of the dining room,
hold those butt plugs up your bums but otherwise don't move an inch.
Roy darling, the food's ready!"

We scurried off to carry out Auntie Belle's orders, while Mr Armitage
came into the dining room. After placing the items on the table, we went
to our positions with our hands pushing the butt plugs up our bottoms.
Behind us, we heard the sounds of a meal being enjoyed, with the
glugging sound of wine being poured and drunk and the clink of knives
and forks on plates. I know that the smells brought home to me just how
hungry I was, having eaten nothing since breakfast.

Then I heard Auntie Belle speak.

"You know, Roy, I think that we should give some thought to feeding the
sissies. I would not want them to faint through hunger; after all,
they've got the washing-up and the clearing up to do!"

The two of them giggled.

"Belle, you're right as always. What had you in mind?"

"Watch."

Auntie Belle then opened an unopened carton of rice and tipped half onto
each of the plates that we had put on the floor a while earlier. But
then, to my horror, she opened each of the cans of baked beans and mixed
the contents of one can with the rice, then added to that by pouring
sugar over the mess and, then to crown it all, out the stubbed out
cigarettes and tobacco ash on the top. She smiled at the horrible mess
with satisfaction.

"There, a meal for slaves, rice and beans, with added tobacco and sugar.
You two here, where we can see you eat, and I don't want to see a scrap
of this lovely meal on the plates when you have finished, I want the
plates licked absolutely clean! On your knees and get your faces into
the food!"

She then placed both plates on the floor.

Molly and I walked to where she had placed the plates and sank to our
knees. We leant forward but hesitated over eating. Immediately I felt a
stiletto heel at the back of my head, which pushed my face into the
plate of food. The same treatment was meted out to Molly.

"You ungrateful bitches, after I saved a whole carton of rice for you
and added the extras. If you don't eat that, with enthusiasm, you'll eat
and drink nothing all weekend."

After this, I started to eat the mess provided, which tasted as foul as
it looked.  We were aware of mocking, cruel laughter from both of the
people sitting at the table enjoying their delightful meal, while we
sissy slaves were humiliated and shamed even in the act of eating.
Eventually, both Molly and I managed to eat what had been provided for
us and had licked our plates as clean as we were able to do. Both of our
faces were, of course, covered in bits of rice and in the sauce used to
cover the baked beans, so that we looked a complete mess. Auntie Belle
looked at us and shook her head.

"Look at the mess you two have made over a simple meal. Right, upstairs,
get washed and refresh your make-up. Then get back here, clean up the
plates and cutlery and get them into the kitchen. Then wash up, dry
everything and put it away. After that, report to us; we'll be in my
bedroom."

Molly and I did exactly as were ordered. About twenty minutes later,
tasks completed, we headed into Auntie Belle's bedroom. When we walked
into the room, we curtseyed to Auntie Belle and Mr Armitage. They were
both lying on the bed and were stark naked. This was the greatest
humiliation of all; it was an announcement that, as sissies, we did not
count in any sexual sense.

My wife had often used her nudity as a means of emphasizing her control
over me, once she had broken and sissified me; it set out absolutely
clearly that all my "male rights" had gone. It generally led to my head
being between her thighs as the only means whereby I gave her any
satisfaction. Auntie Belle was simply reinforcing this type of control.
She turned to us.

"Right, sissies, well before our main event, when Roy shags the arse off
me, we've decided on a few "first courses". Firstly, you need to be
punished for your many faults this evening, such as not answering a
direct question from a guest and answering the door with no panties on
and your butt plugs out. So, knickers off and butt plugs out, then bend
over!"

With that, Auntie Belle walked over to the dressing table and picked up
her tawse in her right hand and a long cane in her left.

"I'm going to give you six of the tawse on each cheek and then finish
the punishment off with six of the best from the cane. You count the
strokes and thank me after each one. If you move during the punishment,
I'll double it. Molly, you can go first."

So I had to stand and watch, knowing that what was being done to Molly
would shortly be meted out to me. I listened as Molly spoke the shameful
words of submission after each stroke, giving the number of the stroke,
followed by:-

"Thank you, Auntie Belle, for correcting me."

Molly managed to avoid tears during the strapping, but started to sob
once the caning began. By the time the sixth vicious stroke had been
delivered, she was sobbing freely. Auntie Belle was as brutal and
contemptuous as we had grown to expect.

"Stop your snivelling, or I'll give you six more. Remain bent over until
I say you can stand up."

Then I received the punishment as decreed by Auntie Belle. Like Molly, I
managed to avoid bursting into tears while getting the strap but the
caning led to my bursting into tears. Just like Molly, I was told to
stop the noise and remain bent over. Then Auntie Belle spoke again to Mr
Armitage.

"You know, Roy, after all this effort, I need a nice relax, so I suggest
we take advantage of what I am told by the Mistresses of these two are a
pair of well-trained sissy tongues. One of them can have the pleasure of
licking my cunt and my clit, while the other can suck your lovely cock.
They do all the work, can't get hard because of the lovely tight devices
around their cocks, and we get all the orgasms. Seems perfect to me, OK
by you?"

"Absolutely. Which one do you want?"

"You're the guest, so you choose. Anyway, there's always tomorrow
night."

"OK, I'll have Polly tonight."

"OK, Polly, shift your lazy self, kneel on the bed and start sucking
that pole. Make absolutely certain you give Mr Armitage the best blowjob
he's ever had and you take all his cum down into your sissy tummy.
Molly, you kneel next to Polly, I want to see your head between my
thighs, which is just where a sissy's head should be, and I want to feel
that tongue just where it will do the most good."

I quickly took up the position. During my sissy training, I have been
taught to please men, so that Mistress Jennifer's boyfriend can have
sexual satisfaction during her "time of the month". I hate having to do
it and everyone knows that I am hating it, which is why those who have
control over me love to force me to provide such sexual satisfaction. My
lips closed over the head of Mr Armitage's cock and my tongue slid
underneath and began to slide up and down his cock, making it even
harder. I heard Mr Armitage start to groan with the pleasure that my
stimulation was giving him. Gradually, I took more and more of his cock
in my mouth, while my tongue continued to lick and stimulate the
underside of his cock.  As I gave him the blow-job, I was aware, from
the ever more intense sounds coming from Mr Armitage that he was getting
huge pleasure from me. I was also aware, from the sounds being made by
Auntie Belle, that the efforts of Milly's tongue were having the same
effect on her.

Soon I realised that Mr Armitage was ready to ejaculate, when his right
hand went to the back of my head, denying my head any movement. Then he
came, with a pouring of hot, salty cum in my mouth, which I had no
option but to swallow as quickly as I could, but some escaped through my
lip-sticked lips, to dribble onto my chin. At almost the same time, I
heard Auntie Belle scream out loud with pleasure as she had her orgasm.
Both of us, in keeping with the training we had received, stopped our
efforts but did not move our lips away. Then Auntie Belle spoke.

"Well, your Mistresses were right, you are a good pair of cunt-lickers
and cock-suckers. I'm pleased to see that you can get some things right.
So, as a reward, you two girls are going to have a special treat, up on
your feet and bend over, legs apart."

We quickly obeyed, although Molly glanced at me, with a look that told
me she realised what was coming, as much as I did. Auntie Belle
chuckled.

"Yes, you girls are going to get nine inches of thick pleasure, not of
course Mr Armitage's cock which I shall be using for the rest of the
night, but the next best thing as far as sissies like you are concerned
- a lovely dildo each."

With that, Auntie Belle shoved, with no ceremony at all, a nine inch
dildo first up me and then one up Molly. Once again, tears flowed but we
made efforts to control them, in an attempt to avoid punishment. Auntie
Belle was as scathing as ever.

"Listen to these two, Roy, crying when we know that they are both loving
being filled up their arses. I bet they are both dreaming it's some
black hunk who's shagging them. Well, sissies, it's the best we can do.
So, on the carpet next to the bed, in the 69 position, with your arms
around each other's bums and your hands pushing the dildo in and out of
the bum. Oh, and one last thing, just to show how generous I am, you can
take each other's cocks in your mouths and have a nice suck. So when
Master Roy and I are in bed, I want to be able to hear you two eagerly
sucking away.

Of course, it's a pity that you can't have a hard-on, but, well that's a
sissy's life for you. And you can be assured that Mr Armitage and I will
make up for your inability to orgasm with a few more of our own. I
suppose that we might have as many as your wives are enjoying tonight in
their Portuguese hotel, with their well-endowed lovers!"

With that final contemptuous remark, Molly and I took up the required
position and began pushing the dildo in and out, while sucking on the
restrained cock.  Above us, on the bed, we heard the love-making start,
with wild enthusiasm.

So out first evening under the authority of Auntie Belle came to an end,
with us two sissies frustrated, penetrated and dominated, used and
abused for the amusement of those who controlled us. While the people
who had control over us, both in London and Portugal, were being fully
sated in the sexual intercourse denied to us.

As we drifted off into a troubled, uncomfortable sleep, I know that I,
and I am sure as did Molly, wondered what tomorrow would bring..............

15 April 2017

Sissified Husband

 By: Rikki

Max was very busy hand washing all of Tonya's underwear and lingerie in
the kitchen sink. He dipped a pair of her panties in the clean rinse
water dunking them several times before twisting them and squeezing out
the excess water. He then placed them in the clothes basket on the
counter.

Tonya insisted he wear 6" heels around the house especially when doing
his chores. After all 6" heels are what sissies wore. Not just because
they made his legs look sexy and feminine but also because they became
very uncomfortable very quickly. The balls of his feet ached as did his
shins from the high arching of his feet. This made him work quicker so he
could get off his feet for a little bit. He was also wearing a pink
little girl's design dress with white petticoats.

"Max darling," Tonya said entering the kitchen with a dress in her hands.
"I need you to iron this for me when you are finished with underwear. I
think this one is the one I am going to wear tonight, or do you like this
one better?" she said holding up a sexy short black dress for him to see.

"Tonya, you promised me if I acted like this at home you would stop
seeing other men," he whined looking to her pleadingly.

"No, that's not what I said Max. I don't want you acting sweetie. I said
I would try and be more sympathetic to your concerns about me seeing
other men if you accepted being what you really are. A sissy. I still
need to be fucked by a real man Max. I have desires of a woman you know.
Now which one would you wear tonight?" she said holding them both up now.

"Where are you going?" he said softly.

"Max, if you must know, I am meeting the girls at the club. Todd will be
there I'm sure and Lisa said he was bringing a friend along tonight. Just
some drinks, dancing and maybe a little snuggling and kissing in the
corners. That's all baby."

She now handed him one of the dresses. It was the black one.

"Tonya." He looked at her surprised.

"Max, relax. Here put your hands up by your shoulders and let your wrist
hang limp out the side," she said giving him an exaggerated example of
what she was talking about. 

She gently posed him with both wrist hanging limp. She held his red
manicured fingers for a moment. She then stepped back and looked at him.

"Now flap your fingers up and down like a little bird for me. Faster.
There, and wiggle your toes for me. That is much better. Don't you feel
better now? Honey you are a sissy you need to act like one. You are
getting too wound up in your masculinity again sweetie. Do I need to help
you with that again?" she said raising an eyebrow of seriousness. "Is
that thing hanging between your legs making you feel embarrassed about
how you dress and act again?"

"No Tonya. I need you to........"

"Hush! Finish washing my panties and bras and get it hung out on the
clothesline. Once they are dry I want them all ironed, and this dress
too. Understood?" she said gently touching his cheek. "Get the kitchen
straightened up and the bathrooms cleaned too."

Max finished washing Tanya's underwear and carried the basket outside to
the clothesline. He hurried out to get done as fast as he could. His hair
was split into high pigtails on the back corners of his head. Each
pigtail had six wire brush curlers in it so they would be appropriately
curly later in the day. He wore the frilly little girl party dress and
hoped no one  saw him before he was finished. He hurriedly pinned the
under garments up on the line and sashayed in on his high heels.

When Max had finished his chores he relaxed in a nice bubble bath. Tanya
came in unexpectedly and hung a full pink enema bag on the shower curtain
rod. The bag was bloated with warm soapy water.

"Having a nice bath?" she said pleasantly.

"Tanya. No," he said looking up at the bloated bag of warm soapy water.
Tanya just turned and left the room.

"TANYA. Please, I don't need an enema," he said looking at the bag.

Tanya returned a few minutes later stepped into the bathroom and closed
the door.

When Tanya opened the door 20 minutes later enema the bag hung empty from
the shower curtain and Max was sitting on the toilet. Max had protested,
but Tanya administered the enema for her own reasons. It was now done.

Later Max entered the living room and Tanya asked him to have a seat
beside her. She removed the curlers form his hair and twirled the curls
of his pigtails on her finger.

"Max," she said gently, "I love you honey and I want you to be happy.
That's why I try so hard to help you realize and accept who you really
are."

"This is not me Tanya. I have desires for you. Please, understand that.
Why do you want me dressed like a girl?"

"I do understand Max. It tells me you are having trouble coping with the
reality of it. Listen sweetie, just because you have a penis and
testicles doesn't mean you are not suppose to dress like this. You are
not dressed like a girl honey, you are dressed like a sissy. It doesn't
mean you can't desire women, but honey you can't have relations with
women either. See, honey you need to accept that though you feel desires
for women, you need to focus more on men."

"No Tanya," he said teary eyed.

"Baby, I have gotten you a few gay magazines. They are full of pictures
of men having sex and sucking dicks."

"What? I don't want those. That is not me," he said disgusted.

"Max. Do I need to tie you down and massage your testicles for awhile.
Hmmm? Show you what your sissy testicles are really for." she said
looking a little more serious.

"No. Please don't do that again." he said shaking his head. "I don't find
men attractive. It's not my nature." he pleaded softly.

"Max, listen baby. I have arranged for two men to meet us next week. They
are good looking too by the way. They know you are a sissy and they want
help you through your confusion."

"I'm not confused."

She put her hand on his thigh and gave him a gentle smile.

"It will be a special day. I'm going to want you to turn around on the
couch and put your legs up over the back."

"No," he whined again knowing now what she was getting at..

"Put your hands under your bottom and let your head lay back off the edge
of the cushions like a proper sissy."

"No." Max was now tearing up shaking his head no.

"Then I want you to open your mouth wide, I'll paint those lips a fire
red, and let these men put there dicks in your mouth and have their way
with you. That's what they are coming here to do next week."

"I'm not doing it Tonya. I don't want to have a sexual relations with a
man."

"I'm not asking you what you want Max. I'm telling you what you're going
to do. You're doing it for me baby."

"No," he whined."

She said nothing.

"Why do you want me to do this Tonya?" he asked as a few tears ran down
his face. "It's degrading to me."

"Because you need to do this Max. You are a sissy honey and sissies suck
dicks. You will feel much better about yourself and the way you dress
after you have done this."

"I'm not a sissy, why won't you acknowledge that Tanya?" he snapped.

"I will be sitting right here next to you like I am now. I'll even hold
your hand," she said ignoring him.

"I can't."

"Sweetie, you have a week to get ready. It will be just fine. You've
given a couple of hand jobs before and the guys enjoyed that."

The handjobs had not been free. In addition to the total humiliation he
felt dressed in a frilly dress while masturbating those men, he also had
to pay them $50.00 each for allowing him to masturbate them.

"Now, I want you to spend time looking through your new gay magazines."
She picked one up and opened it. "Look Max. Look at the size of the dick
that man has his lips around, and he's not ashamed of what he's doing at
all. In fact he looks like he enjoys it. See baby you will too once you
do it a few times."

"Stop it!" He pushed the magazine away.

"That's enough Max. I'm going to get dressed now for my date. I am very
disappointed with your attitude. I think when I get home tonight I'm
going to give you a testicle massage."

"NO," Max said standing and stumbling back in his high heels.

"I expect you to be in bed, no panties on. Have the lube and plastic
gloves on the nightstand where I can easily find them. Of course have the
handcuff and ankle manacles hooked to the bed headboard already when I
get here."

"Tonya please. I'll look at the magazines. I'm just not this fag you keep
insisting I become for you."

"It's more than that Max. You haven't accepted responsibility for the
fact you are a sissy yet. You should be excited about those two men
coming over here and doing this for you. You shouldn't react to pussy and
titties like a man does." she said unbuttoning her blouse.

Tanya undressed right in front of Max. She was completely naked when she
had him sit back down. She put her hand behind his head.

Tanya rubbed her nipples across his face and then his lips. She gave him
a very sensuous look and pressed her breast hard against his lips, but he
knew better than to move his lips.

"You know Max, in a couple of hours a real man is going to be sucking on
these nipples and making my toes curl under with desire, while my husband
sits at home looking through his gay magazines and masturbates."

His eyes closed when she made that statement. She stood up and looked at
his penis that was now almost erect.

"That's what I thought," she said backing away and sounding a bit
disgusted at what she saw. "Come along with me."

Tanya took Max into their bedroom and stood him facing the corner like
some child.

"Put your palms together behind your back Max, fingers down."

Max did as he was instructed.

"Now you just stand there like that while I get dressed. You shouldn't be
having erections over women's titties. You should be desiring women's
titties of your own."

As Tonya was leaving she stepped back in the bedroom where Max was still
standing in the corner.

"Have the lube and gloves ready when I get home."

Tanya came very early in the morning. It was very apparent she had a good
time. Max heard her heels on the hard floors as she walked across the
house to the bedroom and came in. It was dark and the lights were out.

"Hi Max," she said walking over to the side of the bed. "Did you have a
good evening masturbating with your boy magazines?" she asked.

"Tonya, I looked at them but I.........."

"But you couldn't masturbate? Still letting these things hanging between
your legs define who you are." she said.

"Please Tonya," he almost begged.

"I had a very good time. The man I met was a lot of fun. We danced and
made out. We did go out to his truck early on and I sucked his dick and
finished him off with a handjob."

Max just grimaced at what she was saying.

"Well, at the end of the night we were all worked up again, so I let him
fuck me in his pick up truck. Oh Max it was really good to. I had an
orgasm before he did. Mmmm! That's the way it should be."

She looked around the room.

"Are you ready you get started?" she asked. "I'm really tired and want to
get this over with."

"Tonya, you don't have to do this."

Tonya pulled his arms over his head and cuffed his wrist to the brass
post. She then pulled his foot up over his head an attached his ankles to
each of the corner post. This left his penis and testicle exposed hanging
above his ass.

Tonya crossed her legs and started putting the gloves on.

"You know Max I don't like having to do this to you, but you have to let
those masculine feeling go."

"Tanya...."

She looked at him as she put the other glove on.

"I am your wife and your are my sissy husband. So tell me why do you look
at girls? What's the acceptable reasons?" she asked holding the lube
bottle in her hand as she waited.

"Because, I am..........I am looking at her dress?" he said unable to say
the demeaning truth.

"You are checking out her nailpoilsh color, and her shoes, as well as her
dress, earrings and things like that, not to see how sexy she looks but
because you are wondering how nice you would look wearing those things."
She looked at him now as she squirted the lubricant in her hand.

"Do you want to suck a man's dick now?" she asked very matter of fact.

"I don't think......"

He hesitated when he felt her rubbing the lubricant all over his
testicles.

"Yes. Yes I do," he said frantically knowing what she was about to do..

"So you will cooperated when these young men show up?" she asked again
the lubricant being spread more aggressively.

"Yes Tanya, please don't do this."

"Are you a sissy Max?"

"Yes," he said softly.

"Then why are you fighting me. My little sissy boy is going to suck some
dicks." She took the ball gag from the night stand and wrapped it around
his head filling his mouth with the red ball. She the placed a pillow
gently over his face to muffle even more his gagged voice.

She then picked up her cell phone and dialed up the guy she had just
spent the evening out with. In a very low and seductive voice she said,

"Hello Frank, I missed you all the way home."

As Tonya spoke she squeezed Max's testicles firmly and rolled them in her
fingers with both hand. Back and forth as Max violently pulled at his
bonds his legs frantically kicking against the chains that held them over
his head.

"I would love to be sucking that big dick right now."

She continued the massage of Max's testicles as she talked.

"Oh no Frank my husband wouldn't care at all. He doesn't want his dick
sucked by me, he'd rather I paint his toenails red like a girl."

Tonya laughed in a way that it was obvious the guy on the phone was
laughing with her.

"I just wanted to tell you thank you for riding me good and hard in the
truck before I left. It was wonderful. I had such an orgasm."

"No, thank you. Ok. You have a good evening sweetie and we will do it
again sometime."

Max was screaming into his gag almost exhausted from all the resistance
he was trying but unable to give. Finally she stopped by allowing his
balls to slowly slide through lubricated fingers.

Max was crying.

"Are we ready to be the sissy now Max."

He shook his head yes.

"Good," she said holding up a used rubber full of semen.

Tonya removed the gag and turned his head slightly toward her. She
squeezed his cheeks and had him open his mouth. He was still tied up and
resistance could cause her to start squeezing his ball all over again.

"This is Frank's cum sweetie," she said putting the end of the rubber
inside his open lips.

She then slid her fingers down the rubber and emptied out the contents in
his mouth.

"Swallow it Max," she said watching him gag trying not to throw up. Max
swallowed it in one big gulp, and then sobbed softly.

He was released from his bonds and rolled over in his frilly babydoll
nightie.

"Get some sleep sissy boy. I want you to be on your best tomorrow."