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@saragirlsissyconfessions
•The First Sweet Swell•
Those delicate little buds pushing forward… sensitive, tender, and full of promise.
Every day a little fuller, a little softer - proof that your body is finally listening.
This is the beautiful beginning of becoming. The moment a whiteboi starts turning into the wifey she was always meant to be.
So proud of every new curve. Keep blooming, darling.
💕
The cock was inches from my face; I looked at it, looked over at my wife. "I'm so scared," I whispered.
She touched my face in a calm, reassuring way. "Every girl is her first time," she said. "He'll be special to you. Every man a girl sucks has a claim on her, but the first one has a different kind of claim because no girl ever forgets her first blowjob."
I was suddenly afraid I wasn't pretty enough, feminine enough. She read my mind, leaned over, whispered in my ear. "Look how hard he is," she said, "you're what he wants. Just close your eyes and do it like we practiced."
I did, I closed my eyes and let myself melt. I opened my mouth, leaned forward just a fraction, stuck my tongue, and licked the head of his cock, tasting the salty precum.
"That's my girl," my wife encouraged me. She put her hand on the back of my head, gently pushed me forward, and guided me to his cock. "Just hold it there for a moment," she said, "and savor him. Swirl your tongue around his head and taste him. This will imprint him in your mind, his size and shape, his feel, his taste. You'll measure every cock you ever taste against him.
My eyes opened, found my wife’s, and I moaned.
"That's it," she said, "savor him. You'll never forget it, you'll never forget him. That first cock will be on your mind forever. You'll have dreams about it, and you'll be thinking about it all the time, even when you're just with me."
I felt his hand on my head, holding me, guiding me. I couldn't move forward or backward; I could just hold his cock in my mouth, the taste of him imprinted on me. I blinked, afraid. Would I really think of cock every time I was intimate with my wife?
"Shhhh, I'll think about it, too," she said, "I'm so glad I was here for you to watch this. Every time we're in bed from now on, we'll both think of this, think of him. We'll be thinking about you sucking his cock."
sissy joni, coming out in '26???
My wife walked into the bedroom where I was sitting on the edge of the couch, feminized, in a locked chastity cage. "This isn't what it looks like," I stammered.
She narrowed her eyes, glared at me. "Well it looks like my husband feminized himself and locked himself in a chastity cage. I guess it's something else?"
"I...I..." I stammered. "I'll go change."
"Sit down," she said, her tone firm, direct. "Where are the keys to that? I'll get them."
I looked over at the table where two small brass keys sat. My wife followed my gaze, walked over to the table and picked up the keys up.
"I...I can unlock it," I said.
She looked at me like my words made no sense. "Unlock it? Oh, we're not unlocking anything," she said, slipping the keys into her pocket.
"Monica," I gasped.
"You should have been honest with me," she said, "but alas, you were not."
"Monica, I...I can't... Please, you...you need to let me have those keys."
"As I understand it, the longer a sissy is locked, the longer she's denied, the more submissive she becomes, the more feminine she becomes. You think you want to unlock it, but I assure you, there will come a time in the near future when you'll be some feminine, you'll beg me to keep it locked forever."
I stood quietly off to the side as my aunt looked at the sheer lace bra. “The fabric is so delicate and beautiful,” she said to the saleswoman.
“It’s one of our most popular styles for these situations,” the saleswoman replied.
“The cups will gap, won’t they?”
The saleswoman nodded. “For a normal training bra, we’d recommend a smaller cup size, but for…” she looked over at me. “For this situation, we recommend a larger cup so you can use breast forms if you wish. It’s unpadded, of course, so when worn under male clothing, it won’t be too noticeable.”
My aunt looked over at me and smiled. “What do you think Trevor?”
“I…I don’t know,” I stammered.
“It’s your first bra,” she said, “you need to voice your opinion.”
I tried to think of it as a girl would, remembering the instructions she’d drilled into me.
“You said it was delicate and I agree,” I said, “I…I think it’s what you…we’re…looking for.”
“I assume you’ll fit it for us?” my aunt asked the saleswoman.
She nodded. “Of course. The set?”
“What style of panties come with it?”
“A classic bikini,” the saleswoman said. “The fabric, delicate as it is, is perfect for tucking…if that’s a requirement.”
My Aunt Janet looked at me, smiled. “I’m sure there are no erections for sissies in my home,” she said.
“Naturally,” the saleswoman smiled.
She picked up several sizes of the bra matching the measurements she’d taken, panties too, and took us to a fitting area, but not a dressing room. I looked at Aunt Janet; my eyes said it all. She looked back at me and smiled. “Dressing rooms are for actual girls,” she said, “sissies don’t need them.”
Minutes later, I was standing in front of a three-sectioned mirror wearing just the new bra and a pair of panties, my penis, of course, tucked away between my legs. I was red-faced as the two other women in the store kept glancing my way, snickering.
“The bra is a B cup,” the saleswoman said, “and the panties are a small. I wasn’t sure on cup size.”
“B is appropriate, to start,” my aunt said, but I’d like a set of everything in a C cup as well so I can move up.”
One of the other women in the store, they were together, approached Aunt Janet. “Your son?”
“My sister’s son,” Aunt Janet said.
“May I ask why?”
Aunt Janet looked at me, chuckled. “He’s with me for the summer, an attitude adjustment,” she said. “He’s not doing well at college.”
“Well he’s adorable,” the woman said.
“Thank you, Ma’am,” I answered as I’d been taught.
I pledge to stay Pussyfree for life.
I pledge that my tiny 3.6 dicklet will always and forever be pussy free. I will never, ever, ever get pussy for the rest of my life ..I will never , ever fuck a woman in my life ..I will stay Pussyfree for the rest of my life .
I will worship and serve Women but will never try to have sex with them .. I will always believe in Female Supremacy .. My place is at the feet of women as a cuckold slave and servant .. Nothing more.
I will worship and serve Alfa men and will always see them as my superiors .. I will be sissy slut for Alfa men and always ready to be used and abused by superior Alfa men .. I will serve them like a good sissy slut ..
I encourage all beta males to do the same .. Our place is not to fuck .. Our place is to serve Alfa Men and Women.
I walked into my apartment and found Lily, my best friend since we were twelve years old, in her bed smiling. "Well there you are," she said.
"Hey," I said, looking away.
"Well?"
"Well what?" I asked.
"You didn't sleep here, your bed is still made, where did you run off to last night?"
"N...nowhere," I said.
"Sweetie..."
I shrugged. "L...Luke's place," I whispered.
"Luke's place? Sweetie, you went home with him?"
"I...I guess," I said.
"And?"
"And what?"
"And what happened?"
"Nothing?"
"Nothing," I lied, "we talked."
"Talked? Talked? He's clearly into you, all you did was talk? He didn't make a move?"
"Lily..."
"He did!"
"It was..."
"You slept with him!" she squealed.
"I...it just happened, okay? It was nothing."
"Nothing? My sissy BFF finally sleeps with a guy is not nothing. What dod you do? Did you go down on him? Did he fuck you?"
"Lily!"
"Don't you dare not tell me what happened. Did you suck his cock or not?"
My blush gave that away.
"Big?"
I nodded. "Yea."
"Did he fuck you?"
I nodded again. "Yes," I said.
"And what about the cage? What did he say about it?"
I thought of him touching the small, pink chastity cage I wore, smiling at it, at me. It's so small, so pretty, he'd said. "He...he thought it was cute."
"Did he cum in you?"
"Yes," I blushed.
"And did you...did you squirt?"
I nodded.
"Oh. My. God. My sissy lost her virginity to a man!"
Okay!!!
I like that red dress. I'd wear that. 😍💗🤪🤭💋
Rainbow Islands. 🌈
I’m definitely the middle one 💋 💋
I'm the first one.
There was a standing rule in our house: when I heard the shower start, I was to get a towel ready and wait for my wife to finish so I could dry her off. So when I heard the shower start, without thinking about it, I got a towel ready and walked into the bathroom.
But the site of them made me freeze. I guess I didn't think he'd still be here and certainly didn't think I'd find him in the shower in an intimate embrace with my wife.
I didn't know if I should leave or wait, didn't know what I should do. I finally decided to leave when she looked over at me and smiled. "You're going to need a second towel," she said.
Swallowing, I left the room and came back with a second towel. I stood there trying not to watch, but even when I looked away I could see them in one of the mirrors. I could see their kissing, their touching. I watched as he slipped into her, watched as they made love.
When they were done, she soaped him, cleaned him, rinsed him. When she finished taking care of him, she began washing herself while he stepped out of the shower. "Just stand there, he'll dry you off," she told him.
I felt foolish standing there in a maid's uniform, towel in hand, gawking at my wife's lover. "I...I never..."
He chuckled. "You'll learn," he said.
I approached him, dried him off from the top down. I tried to avoid his mid-section but he stepped forward. "You're doing fine," he said.
As I toweled off his thick cock, which even soft was larger than I ever was hard, I glanced at my wife, saw her as my hands worked the towel over him.
When I finished, I just knelt there in front of him, openly staring at his cock, humiliated, ashamed. "Impressive, isn't he," I heard my wife ask, realizing she'd stepped out of the shower.
"I..."
"Don't be shy about it," she said, "it's understandable you'd stare."
"I...I didn't," I said.
"You did," she said, kneeling down in front of him, taking his cock into her hands. "You need to learn about these things, learn how to serve him like you serve me."
"Ma'am?" I said.
She smiled, moved towards him, took his cock into her mouth. “You need to learn about these things," she said. "Learn."
"Well there you are, sleepyhead," my best friend said, startling me. I didn't expect to find her in my bathroom that morning, didn't expect to see her in a bra and panties.
"Hey," I mumbled.
"Hey yourself," she said. "So?"
"So?"
"So what happened."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"You're such a downer in the morning," she laughed. "What happened with Mark?"
"Nothing," I said, looking away.
"Nothing? You took him to your room, what do you mean nothing."
"Nothing, he...he just asked for a tour," I said.
She smiled, stared at me. "An hour tour of your bedroom?"
"He...we were just...you know...talking," I said.
"Talking?" she asked, making air quotes. "I'm your best friend, don't give me any 'we were just talking' crap. I know he thinks you're cute."
"He does not," I said.
"I saw him running his hand up your leg," she said, "if you didn't at least make out, I'm going to start wondering if you're really gay."
I looked away, didn't want to meet her eyes.
"OMG, you made out with Mark!" she squealed. "My sissy kissed a guy!"
"We didn't really make out," I said, "we just..."
"You sucked his cock, didn't you?" she demanded. "Don't you dare lie to me."
"I..." I still couldn't look at her.
"Oh. My. God! You did it, didn't you?" She came over to me, hugged me tightly. "I'm so proud of you," she said, took my hand. "Come, come sit down and tell me all about it."
"I...there isn't much..."
"Oh, no," she interrupted me, "you're not going get away with keeping me in the dark. I want to know everything. How big he was, how he felt, what you did, what he said, whether you swallowed. You did swallow, didn’t you?"
"Justine!"
"You better have swallowed," she said.
"I...I did," I whispered.
"Sweetie, I'm so proud of you," she hugged me again. "In only a year you've gone from a shy, awkward, insecure, boy trying to hit on girls to a pretty, sexy girl who gave a guy a blowjob."
"Justine," I stammered, looking at her body.
"I'm so glad you finally accepted that you're gay."
"Justine..."
"You sucked cock, darling, you swallowed. Don't you dare deny it ever again."
We were at a wedding, one of Emily’s friends from college, sitting at an outdoor table, enjoying the evening. It was a beautiful night with a full moon shining brightly in the sky. We were sitting with some of Emily’s friends, and we were all having a great time when I heard one her her friends say to her, “I think that's Todd over there. Did you know he was going to be here?"
"Where?" Emily asked, looking around.
"Who's Todd?" I asked.
"A guy Emily and I went to college with," her friend said, suppressing a smile.
"Where?" Emily asked again.
"To the right," her friend said, "he's walking over to us."
I looked over, saw a man in a navy suit walking towards us, a smile on his face.
Emily turned around to look, facing me, so I saw her face when she found him. The smile on her face was electric, like she was remembering something special.
When he got to us, he said hello to everyone generally, and then to Emily specifically.
"Todd," Emily said, "it's so good to see you."
"Good to see you, too, Emily," he said, "it's been awhile." He looked at me, raised his eyebrows.
"Oh, sorry, Todd, this is..." she introduced me as her boyfriend, looked back at him. "This is Todd."
"A college boyfriend?" he said, looking at her.
"Boyfriend might be a little strong," Emily said. "It was like a month."
He looked at me, raised his eyebrows, looked back at her, eyes on her breasts. "Fair enough," he said, smiling, "but it was a heck of a month, wasn't it?"
"I suppose," she said but a light blush.
"Save me a dance?" he said, looking her.
"Your date might not like that," she said.
He smiled. "Fair enough," he said. "A hug at least?"
She looked at me, gave me the smile she saved for me, stood up and hugged him. He hugged her back and then took a half step back, had his hands on her waist. "You look great," he said.
"So do you," she said.
When he left, her friend looked at Emily. "Someone's still smitten," she said.
"I am not," Emily insisted.
Her friend laughed. "Okay Ms. Defensive, but I meant him."
Back at the hotel, Emily and I were in bed. "Sorry about Mr. Roving Eye," she said.
"It's okay," I said. "He...you had quite the smile on your face when you saw him."
"It was quite the month," she said.
"I assume you...you know..."
She looked at me, gave me the smile she saved for me again. "Um...yeah," she said. She moved her hand down my stomach, to the front of the panties I was wearing, touched my small, tucked penis. "He was...insatiable and...had this way of just...well, he had this way of doing things," she said.
"D...doing things?" I said.
Emily’s fingers traced the soft satin edge of my panties, her touch light but deliberate, sending a shiver straight up my spine. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against my ear, completely aware of how quickly my breathing had changed.
"He was just so... heavy," Emily murmured, her voice dropping to a low, teasing purr. "Not like you, sweetie. You're so soft and delicate. Todd was all rough edges and muscle. When he wanted me, he didn't ask. He’d just grab me by the waist—exactly where he held me tonight—and lift me onto whatever was nearby. The kitchen counter, the desk in his dorm, it didn't matter."
I swallowed hard, my heart hammering against my ribs. The contrast between my own tucked, yielding body and the image of this towering, dominant man handling her was dizzying. "Did... did he?"
"Oh, constantly," she whispered, her hand applying just a fraction more pressure through the fabric, feeling how excited I was becoming. "He didn't do the gentle, romantic things we do. There was no slow buildup. He used to pin my hands above my head with just one of his. He was so big, honey. He’d stretch me out completely, just taking what he wanted until we were both breathless and covered in sweat."
She pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, a wicked, knowing smile playing on her lips as she watched the flush creep up my neck.
"He had this urgency that used to leave me sore for days," she continued, her thumb rubbing a slow, agonizing circle. "Things I would never even dream of asking you to do, because you're my sweet, pretty boy. But hearing about it makes you so hot, doesn't it?"
I nodded helplessly, my face burning with a mix of arousal and submission. She knew me so well. She knew exactly how my mind raced when she drew those lines between my soft, quiet nature and the raw, aggressive energy of men like Todd.
"Look at you," Emily cooed softly, her hand sliding under the waistband of my panties, her fingers cool against my heated skin, not quite touching me, not quite freeing me, not quite letting me grow. "You're practically trembling just hearing about it. My sensitive little pretty boy."
She shifted her weight, pinning my thighs beneath her own, though she did it with a gentle, deliberate slowness that emphasized just how different she was with me. She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my bra strap, then whispered against my skin.
"When Todd came over to my place, he didn't care if I was ready or if the mood was right," she murmured, her fingers lightly tracing the length of my small, tucked penis, teasing but withholding any real release. "He’d just turn me around, pull my skirt up, and take me right there against the door. He used to leave bruises on my hips from how hard he'd hold me. It was so loud, so primal. He just wanted to dominate."
I let out a soft whimpering sound, my hands clutching at the bedsheets. The mental image of Emily being overwhelmed by someone so completely masculine—while I lay here in my lingerie, utterly helpless beneath her—swirled together into a intoxicating rush.
"And you love hearing that, don't you?" Emily whispered, her eyes locked onto mine, dark with amusement and desire. "You love knowing that he had his way with me, doing all those rough, demanding things... because it means you get to just lay here, be pretty, and let me control exactly what happens to you next."
Emily laughed softly at my whimper, a sound full of affection and absolute control. She pulled her hand back from my waistband, leaving me burning, completely exposed and aching beneath her gaze.
"You're so worked up, sweetie," she purred, shifting her weight so she was sitting across my thighs, looking down at me in my lingerie. "But you know what the rules are tonight? Not after talking about Todd. A man like that... he just took whatever he wanted. But with you? I'm the one who decides."
I looked up at her, my breathing shallow, my heart pounding against my ribs. "Emily... please..."
"No, honey," she said, her voice dripping with sweet authority. She reached down, smoothing the satin of my panties over my small, tucked front, keeping everything securely hidden and constrained. "You don't get to enter me tonight. We aren't doing those kinds of things. That's for big, rough men like Todd, not pretty little girls like you."
She leaned forward, arching her back slightly as she guided my hands to her hips, positioning me exactly where she wanted me. "But I'm still going to let you taste me. I want you to slide down, get on your knees, and use that soft tongue of yours until I'm completely satisfied. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Serving me while you stay perfectly tucked away?"
I nodded eagerly, the submission coloring every inch of my body. I slipped out from under her, moving down the bed until I was positioned between her thighs. Looking up, I saw the fierce satisfaction in her eyes as I leaned in to press my lips to her, losing myself in the taste of her, completely devoted to her pleasure.
When she finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, she reached down and caught my chin, forcing me to look up at her.
"Good girl," she whispered, her fingers trailing down my chest, straight back to the damp satin of my panties. She didn't untuck me. She didn't let me free. Instead, she began to rub her hand firmly over the fabric, applying a steady, intense pressure directly over my hidden, tucked front.
"You don't need to be big for this, honey," Emily murmured, watching my eyes roll back as the friction built rapidly. "Just lay back and take it. No friction, no penetration. Just a sweet, intense little release, hidden away in your satin. Come on, sweetie... show me how a girl orgasms. Think about what he did and then do what you do so well."
Her touch was so soft, so gentle, so light. I knew what she was doing, bringing me to the edge, so slowly. She was bringing me to the edge of orgasm but gently and softly. She sensed when I was close and stopped. But even without her touch, the restriction of the panties combined with the overwhelming mental image of her control broke me. I cried out, my body arching off the bed as a wave of intense, trembling pleasure washed over me, completely contained, soft, and entirely hers.
The tension in the room dissolved into a soft, heavy quiet as the last of my tremors subsided. Emily smiled gently, her expression shifting from the sharp, teasing dominance of a moment ago to a warmth that was entirely tender.
She slid down the bed, pulling me into her arms as she wrapped the light blanket around both of us. I buried my face in the crook of her neck, still catching my breath, feeling incredibly small, exposed, and completely safe.
"Oh, look at you," Emily whispered, her fingers softly running through my hair, untangling the messy strands. "You're still shaking a little bit, sweetie. Come here."
She pulled me tighter against her chest, letting me rest my head right over her heart. The steady, rhythmic thumping beneath her skin was completely grounding. Her other hand reached down, not to tease or restrict this time, but just to rest a comforting, warm palm over my panties, right on the damp spot.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly, kissing the top of my head. "How are you feeling?"
"Good," I breathed, my voice a little thinned out from the intensity of the release. "Really good. Just... heavy. And warm."
"You did so well for me," she murmured, her thumb tracing slow, soothing circles on my hip. "I know how much it overwhelms that pretty head of yours when I talk about men like Todd. But I love how safe you feel with me to explore that. You know that, right?"
I nodded against her neck, breathing in the familiar scent of her skin and the faint trace of the perfume she'd worn to the wedding. "I know. It’s just... it gets so intense. Hearing you talk about him being so big and rough, and then looking down at myself..."
"And that's exactly why we do it," Emily interrupted gently, tilting my chin up so I had to look into her eyes. The playful, wicked spark from earlier was gone, replaced by absolute affection. "Todd was just a passing phase, honey. A month of something loud and mindless. But you? You're my partner. I get to be soft with you, and I get to take care of you like this. I love your softness. I love how beautiful and delicate you are in my hands."
She reached down, gently adjusting the fabric of my underwear to make sure I was comfortable, her touch purely nurturing.
"I love that I can have a man like Todd look at me at a party, and then I get to come back to the hotel and completely control my beautiful, feminine boyfriend," she whispered, a tiny, affectionate smile returning to her lips. "You give me a kind of intimacy he could never even understand."
I let out a long, contented sigh, the lingering vulnerability melting into pure comfort. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling my knees up slightly, completely content to just be held, cherished, and kept safe in the quiet space she made for me.
Emily’s hand slipped inside the waistband of my panties, her movements slow and deliberate. Because the release had been entirely contained and restricted within the tight satin, the orgasm had been tight, frustrated, and completely "ruined." The intense physical peak had passed, but the deep, throbbing ache remained, leaving my body entirely on edge, hypersensitive and craving more.
She withdrew her hand, her fingers slick with the cream of my restricted release. She held her hand over my face, letting me see what she had gathered.
"Look at this, sweetie," Emily whispered, her voice a perfect blend of sweet affection and absolute control. "Look what a good little girl you were for me. You didn't make a mess, you kept it all right inside for me."
My eyes locked onto her hand, my heart hammering fiercely against my ribs. A wave of heat rushed to my face at the sheer humiliation of it, but the raw, unfulfilled arousal still humming through my veins completely overpowered my shame. I whimpered, my hips giving an involuntary twitch beneath the sheets.
"You're still so needy, aren't you?" she cooed, a knowing, tender smile on her face. "That's what happens when you have a sweet little girly orgasm. You stay right on the edge for me. Now, clean up for me. Be a good girl and lick it all up. Just like I licked it all up off him, you lick it all up off me."
When her hand was completely clean, Emily smiled down at me, her eyes overflowing with genuine warmth and pride. She wiped her damp fingers on a nearby tissue and immediately pulled me back down against her chest, wrapping her arms securely around me.
"Such a good girl," she murmured, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my forehead as I rested my head on her shoulder, shivering slightly from the lingering aftershocks. "You are so well-behaved for me, honey. So obedient. I love how completely you let me possess you."
She ran her hand lovingly down my back, smoothing the hair away from my neck.
"I love you so much," she whispered into the quiet room, holding me tightly against her. "I love my pretty, feminine lover exactly as you are. You're absolutely perfect for me."
"You're doing it again," Ashley said, her voice full of judgment.
"Doing...doing what?" I asked.
"Looking at me like...like a boy looks at a girl, looking at me like you're thinking about me sexually."
"I...I'm not," I said even though I was walking right up to the line of doing just that.
"What's on your mind, this second, don't lie."
I swallowed. "I'm jealous of how good your breasts look in that bra," I said.
"Okay, that's fair," Ashley said. "Did you flirt with anyone today?"
I hesitated, looked down. "Yes," I said."
"Who?" she challenged me.
"Austin," I said.
"That guy in sales?"
I nodded.
"Flirt or talk?"
"Flirt," I said.
"How?"
"Eye contact? Smiling at him? Touching his arm when he said something funny."
She thought for a moment. "Okay, I'll take your word for it..."
"But?"
"I'm not sure I believe you."
"Why?"
"Cause you're looking a me like a guy looks at a woman he wants to fuck."
"I mean it," I said, "I really am jealous of how that bra fits your breasts."
"Okay."
"You don't believe me."
"How about this. I'll let you sleep with me tonight...or I can tell Austin that my femme, gay bestie has a total crush on him and if he asks you out you'll totally say yes."
"Ashley!"
"Which is it? Me or Austin?"
I looked at Ashley's breasts, swallowed. "You'll really say something to him?"
She nodded.
"Then...then Austin," I said.
She smiled. "You really are my gay bestie," she said. "Come give me a hug."
I was watching my wife fasten her garter strap to her stocking. She had not put a bra on yet and her breasts hung free and her hair was covering her face. It struck me how intimate and erotic in a different way.
She saw I was watching her and looked at me. "What?" she said, her voice soft and tender.
"You're so pretty," I blurted out, my voice thick with confusion. "I...he...he's so lucky."
She smiled at me, picked her bra up off the bed and held it out to me. "Help me," she said.
I took the bra, held it out for her, stood still as she slipped her arms in. She turned around, her back to me, and with practiced hands, I fastened the clasp.
She smiled. "You're so sweet to me," she said. She reached for my face, touched my cheek, then let her hand fall to my shoulder, let it linger on my silk shirt, playing with the bra strap on my shoulder.
"I...I just..."
"We all have our roles," she said. "Yours is to be my pretty girl, not to be the man
"I know," I said, a familiar feeling between my legs as my penis tried to swell, unsuccessfully, held tight, kept soft and limp by the chastity cage. I tried to remember what it was like to have an erection, to be free, but it had been so long, over a year, that I could not remember.
"You'll wait up?"
I blushed, looked down. "Of...of course," I said.
"Such a good sissy," she said.
"Well," Hanna, my best friend, asked me showing off her dress.
I looked at her, appraised her, up and down. "I'd go with black pumps," I said, "the dress is classic; the shoes have too much going on."
Hanna looked at me, a dumbfounded look on her face.
"What?" I asked.
"A hot girl in a tight dress asks you how she looks and you're reaction is to tell her to change shoes?"
"They don't go," I said.
"I wish you'd just admit it," she said.
"Admit what?"
"That you're femme...that you like guys."
"Hanna!"
"I'm your best friend, if you can't admit it to me, what are you even doing?"
The text came in the middle of the day: a photo of your wife in a black bikini taking a selfie in the mirror. "Can't wait to wear this for you next week," the text said.
Next week your wife was going on a work trip, part reward, part work, to Florida. It was a 'no spouse' event, so the pictue clearly wasn't meant for you, was clearly meant for someone else.
When you got home, she was waiting for you. "We need to talk," she said.
"Apparently," you said.
"That picture, it…I didn't mean to send it to you," she said.
"No kidding," you said, "who was it for?"
She looked down. "This…this guy at work."
"Why?" you asked, a tear in your eye.
"Hon," she said.
"You said it doesn't matter," you said, "you said size doesn't matter, that how quick doesn't matter."
She looked at you. "It…it matters," she said.
"Don't you love me?" you asked.
"That's the thing," she said, "I love you more than anything in the world."
"Then…then why?"
"I haven't done anything."
"What's that mean? You're not fucking him, whoever he is?"
She shook her head. "No, I…I wanted to talk to you first."
"Talk to me first about what?"
"That folder on your computer."
"What…what folder?"
"The one that says work-research."
Your blood went cold. "I…that's…I can explain," you stammered.
"I looked at the play history, which videos you played the most. 'Cuck Clinick Intake Appointment, Tell Your Wife You're a Cuckold, Pussy Free Life, and oddly, The Gay Trigger.' Quite the collection."
"That's…it's only…"
"Porn," she said, "don't lie to me."
"I…I never…"
"What did you feel when you got the picture? Inside you? Horror? Shame? Arousal? Jealousy?"
I looked down. "All…all of that," I said.
"His name is Marcus," she said.
"M…Marcus," I swallowed, "is he…is he…"
"Black?" She nodded.
I started hyperventilating. "H…honey…"
"I haven't sent him the picture I sent you."
"You…you haven't?"
"No," she said.
"W…why?"
"I want you to send it."
"Me?"
She pulled out her phone, sent something. My phone buzzed; a text from her. I read it.
"Marcus, my name is Henry, I'm Jessica's husband. She asked me to send you this picture of her in the bikini she bought to wear for you when you're in Florida next week. It's our way of saying she's yours for the week. Enjoy."
"Jessica!"
"It's up to you, love. Send it and the fantasy becomes reality."