Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Time for Reflection

I don't think I slept at all that night. I was so very excited, yet I was confused -- twisted in knots actually. Where would all of this go? It's one thing to have secret fantasies, a private fetish, but it was entirely a different matter to share them with another person. Sami may have had an idea before, but she knew for certain now, and I'm sure at that point, knew much more than she had suspected.

It was a time of deep reflection for me. How would I proceed? I thought that maybe I should just try to ignore the whole incident, pretend that it had never happened. Would Sami allow me to do that? Is that what I wanted?

Fuck! What did I want?

What type of relationship would we have? Sami fell in love with a "man," but found herself married to a pantied ass sissy. I had utterly failed as her husband. We never had sex anymore. She had even stopped making sexual advances toward me, undoubtedly because of my many excuses -- the truth almost always being that I had already drained my little sissy clit.

So, what were my options? I went over scenario after scenario, trying to envision how I could piece together some sort of normalcy. On one hand, I could attempt to convince Sami that this was an aberration, an experiment that she happened to walk in on. Of course, even if she bought the premise, there was my little accident . . . but lot's of guys like spanking, don't they? Maybe, but they don't willfully lap up cum!

The gig was up! There was no easy way out. Sami had found out the real me and there was no denying who that was. I could try to convince her otherwise, but she'd just find out at a later date. I knew that I couldn't give up the thrill of femininity. The idea of never again feeling silken stockings on my smooth shaven legs was ridiculous. I thought about the sensuous pull of garter straps across my pantied ass, of luscious red lipstick painted on my puffy lips, of the bright clicking of high heels on pavement, a cool breeze under my skirt, and I had no doubt of their hold on me. I could no more turn my back on my inner sissy than I could just stop breathing.

Who was I kidding? The notion that I might try to curb my growing desire to be a sissy slut was laughable! Where had I taken my life? I couldn't any longer even picture myself as the man in our relationship, in any relationship. All of my dressing and primping, my dildo play, and yes my cumsumption had taken me irreversibly in one direction. Sami was right when she called me a little "Sissy Cunt!" For that's exactly what I had become.

I no longer wanted to fuck Sami, or any other woman for that matter. The disgusting truth is that I wanted to be fucked. I wanted to lay on my back, with my high-heeled feet in the air and have my sissy pussy stretched and pounded until I creamed like a cock craved whore.

I didn't want to pretend anymore. I wanted Sami to see the real me: to allow me to worship her female beauty the way I had always wanted, and to know how deeply I desired to be on my knees sucking hot cum from a hard cock.

I wanted to be treated like the pathetic little submissive bitch I really was.

The reality of my situation came like a slap across my face. I had no control. I was as helpless and dependent in all practical aspects as I was with my sexuality. Sami would do as she wanted, and there was nothing I could do. If she wanted to expose me to my workmates, she could. My family? That too was her call.

I would do exactly as Sami instructed, and just thinking of the possibilities made my little sissy clitty hard and wet.


Wednesday, January 6, 2010

The Edge and Discovery

Looking back, I can still feel the thrill of those many nights indulging myself in feminine sissy bliss. But even then I knew that things couldn't just go on that way. I mean, I guess the question is, how long can somebody go on pretending to be masculine on the outside, when on the inside their femininity is constantly screaming to be released.

I suppose that this need for release is what drives us forward, often stretching the limits and riding on the edge of being discovered. My walks in the hotel hallways and little drives here and there -- was I just expressing my femininity, or was I flirting with the thrill of being caught?

Now, when I get all dolled up, my shapely legs adorned in designer stockings, my fine round ass barely covered with a too short skirt, wearing a clingy blouse, my long brown hair hanging over my shoulders, I look fucking hot! But unfortunately for me, I don't look completely passable as a woman, so I know anytime I venture into public, I'm taking chances -- chances that I find absolutely intoxicating.

But those drives and walks weren't the only way I pushed the envelope, no, not even close. How about leaving just a hint of lingerie showing from under your male attire, have any of you other gurls done that? Or maybe just wearing slightly feminine clothing as if they were male . . . Perhaps painting your nails and making up stories about why they are that way -- the outing with you little niece, you know. I believe that at some level, all sissies have a desire to be caught.

My moment of truth came one Monday in May when Sami was gone to Vegas on business. I had made sure I was clean and smooth that weekend, so that I'd waste no time in the evening. No sooner did I walk in the door, and I dropped my trousers to the floor, stripped off my shoes and shirt and headed to the bedroom to stash the clothes. I slipped my stocking covered feet into my 4 inch Hussie heels, slipped into a simple babydoll nightie and proceded to do my makeup. Once I had my eyes looking large, dark and deep, not being able to wait, I applied my lipstick and tettered over to Sami's dresser to pick a pair of panties.

That's when Sami walked in on me -- while on my knees, rifling through her panty drawer, dressed like a fucking slut in heat. Sami had no patience and basically went off the deep end. She accused me of being a faggot, yelling obscenities and asking if I sucked cock too. She wanted to know if my friends were also queer.

I got up and tried to apologize, to explain, but she was having none of that. I then started to remove my female clothing, but Sami yelled at me, "What the fuck do you think you're doing, bitch?" So I stopped, not knowing where to go next. Sami told me to just sit "my little sissy ass" on the bed and wait. As she was walking out of the room, she let me know that she'd be back to deal with me.

I sat in that room, on the edge of the bed, with my little cock tucked between my legs and my knees held tightly together for what seemed like hours. I shook the entire time, partly in fear, but far more in pure excitement. I didn't know what was going to happen, but I did know that things would never be the same.

I wondered what Sami was doing and became extremely nervous when I heard her on the phone. I have no idea who she was talking to, but when she finally came back, she was much more calm, and at the same time, totally in control.

I was so embarrassed. I can't even put it into words, but at the same time, I was unbelieveably excited. Finally, somebody else knew who I really was!

Sami proceded to lay down the law, all the while riduculing me for the pathetic little sissy I was. I don't think she fully appreciated what was happening, as I became increasingly arroused with each insult, with each time she called me sissy or slut, as she asserted I was a bitch, as she demeaned my cock and called it a clitty. I was completely drunken with submissive sissified lust.

There is no doubt that at that time, I would have done anything Sami told me to do. Caught by my wife , dressed up and made up, and all I could think of was how wildly intoxicating the whole scene was. But just when I thought that things had reached a new all-time erotic high, Sami decided to take it to another level.

"If I ever see you in my panty drawer again without permission," she warned. All I heard was that we had a future, and that single thought caused me to momentarily stop worrying and allow the full experience of what was happening to sink in. Without control, my little clitty immediately hardened and grew, catching Sami a bit by surprise.

"So, my little sissy bitch husband is enjoying his scolding? I should have guess as much!"

Sami then walked over and sat down on the dressing chair. "Get your girly little ass over here," she demanded. "Lay across my lap. You obviously need a little punishment!"

I did as I was instructed and placed myself over Sami. She pulled up my nightie and immediately started cracking her hand on my bare ass. "So, you like being a little bitch!" Crack! "You enjoy dressing like a slut!" Crack! "I'll bet you'd like to be fucked like a whore too -- wouldn't you!" Crack! Crack!

With each stinging strike I became more aroused. I was dizzy with feminized, sissified lust, and as the spanking continued, I totally lost control. I was in heaven, dressed like a slut, my beautiful wife dominating me with one controlling spank after another. I couldn't contain myself. I felt my little clitty twitch and sensed that tightening feeling in my sissy nuts and knew I couldn't stop was about to happen.

I spasmed and began releasing the most mind blowing orgasm of my life. Jet after jet of hot sticking jism errupted from my little sissy cock. I writhed on Sami's lap until she became aware of what had happened, stood up and dropped me to the floor.

"You pathetic little cunt," she exclaimed, looking down at the sissy cream splattered on her stockings.

"You get your little candy ass spanked and you cum all over like a fountain?"

Even in the current setting, I was completely mortified. What must she think? I had gone too far, I thought, and just when I thought it couldn't get more complicated . . .

"Now clean up your fucking mess, BITCH!" Sami yelled loudly, standing with both hands on her hips. Without thinking, I immediately crawled over to her and started licking her leg, lapping up the cum dripping down her thigh.

"Oh my god! You fucking sissy cunt! I didn't say to lick it up!"

I stopped then and there, knowing that I had really fucked up now. Looking up from on my stocking covered knees, my little clitty back between my legs where I liked it, I waited for my wife to continue.

Regaining her composure, she went on, "Well, this explains a lot, little Crissi. I don't know why I'm surprised that you so eagerly eat cum. After all, that's just a part of being a little sissy cunt. Isn't it?"

Shaking her head, she walked away, leaving me alone, with the taste of cum on my lips and my stinging ass a bright crimson red.

"Well, I know how to deal with that too, Sweetie . . . "

And she wasn't lying.