Thursday, March 21, 2013

My Perfect Sissy Housewife

Two years ago, my husband finally admitted to me that he was a crossdresser.  Of course, I had figured that out years earlier -- but I just waited patiently for him to finally admit it to me.  And during those years of waiting, I had been thinking long and hard about how I was going to deal with my husband's crossdressing.

So when he finally said something, I let loose with my well prepared list of demands.  I started by telling him that, from now on, I would be wearing the pants in the family.  My career was really taking off and his was going nowhere.  I decided that I would like to have a sweet little housewife taking care of me and my home full-time.  That would be his job from now on.

And he would not be just any housewife.  Oh no.  He would take the role of a traditional, obedient, submissive homemaker from decades past.  He would live and dress the part.  Every detail would have to be perfect and to my liking -- from his pretty hair-do, to his pleated skirt, to the sheer hostess apron tied aroung his trim little waist to the smile on his pink, glossy lips as he went about his chores.  His endless chores!

At first, he tried to protest but he was simply too much of a sissy to fight me.  I started implementing our "lifestyle changes" right then and there.  I made him hand over his license, credit cards and passport -- and watch as I ran them through the shredder.  Within a week, I had him empty every closet and drawer of his old clothes and reminders of his old life, which I refilled with his new homemaker fashions.  Within a month, we had moved to a new town to make it easier for us to restart our life as a high powered lady executive and her devoted, old fashioned housewife and partner.

That was two years ago and my husband is now been completely transformed, in body and mind, into the gentle, doting housewife I wanted.  He has become completely proficient at doing all his housewifey chores, from cooking, to cleaning,to giving me footrubs, to preparing my martini when I get home in the evening.  Here he is doing the laundry.  He takes such pride in being the perfect housewife.  Look at how happy he is knowing that he is pleasing me.

I have recently started dating one of the senior partners at my law firm.  He will be coming over to my house tonight for a romantic dinner that my hubby-housewife will prepare and serve.  If the date goes well, hopefully my sissy will be serving us breakfast in bed as well.


Sunday, March 17, 2013

A Sissy Gets Married Off

I had known about my husband's feminine urges since before we were married.  I didn't mind his cross dressing or his need to be submissive to me.

At first this was exciting for me too.  I had always had a dominant streak and my husband's Sissy submission to me fulfilled certain needs I had as well.  But eventually, I tired of the game.  In my strict hands, my husband had progressed from a weak-willed, cross-dressing male to a beautiful, fully feminized submissive Sissy.

I needed to make some changes in my life.  Most importantly, I needed to kick my Sissy husband out of the house so my new lover could move in with me full-time.

My Sissy husband was very upset when I explained that I had arranged to marry him off to a man I had found who was looking for a Sissy wife.  There were lots of tears and he begged for me not to go through with this, but I had made up my mind.  Anyway, who cares what a Sissy wants?

That was six months ago.  I am now very happily living with my handsome lover and my Sissy ex is living with his new Husband and Master.  My Sissy ex's entire life now revolves around pleasing his Husband and Master.  He spends hours each day ensuring that his hair and make-up are perfect as his Husband requires.  He toils around the clock to ensure that the house is spotless, clothes are washed and ironed, and that meals are on the table when his Husband returns home from work.  And of course, my Sissy ex has to satisfy his Husband and Master's endless sexual needs as well.

From the photos I've seen, it looks like my ex is starting to embrace his new life as the Sissy wife to a real man.   He certainly seems to enjoy being treated as a "lady" by his strong and dominant Husband.  Look at how he smiles as his Husband and Master touches him with his rough, strong hands.  Look at how he moans with pleasure when being kissed and having his Husband fondle his big boobs.

I guess it was always his destiny to be the submissive Sissy wife of a real man.


Saturday, March 9, 2013

Sissy Gets Ready to go Out

Two months ago, my little sister had caught me dressed up in mom's clothes and make-up when she came home early one afternoon.  She said that she would tell mom and dad -- unless I did exactly what she said from now on.  I guess I had always been a bully to my little sister and now was payback time.

Since then, we've been playing "dress up" almost every night.  After dinner, we run up to her room where she makes me practice doing my make-up and styling the wig she made me buy.  She makes practice walking in high heels and sounding like a girl when I talk.

She told all her friends about what a sissy I was -- and how I was really cute when dressed up like a girl.  Tonight, my sister told me, was going to be my "coming out" party.  She was going to take me, along with three of her friends, to a fancy club downtown where they never check IDs of cute girls who want to go in.  I'm the only one old enough to have a license, so I have to drive.

Mom and dad went out early to go to a party so we spent most of the afternoon getting ready.  My sister picked out my outfit for the evening from mom's closet -- a fancy gold and white Lily Pulitzer dress and a pair of strappy high heels.  She helped me get my wig and make-up just right.

"Hmmm," she said with a smile while looking me over when we were done.  "You know, Michael, you really do look like a pretty girl.  I don't think any of the guys at the club would ever guess that you're really a boy when they start flirting with you.  Just be careful when they start feeling you up."

When she said that, I broke down into tears, panic suddenly overcoming me.  "Please don't make me do this!  PLEASE!"

"Oh for God sake STOP CRYING!," my sister yelled.  "You're ruining your make-up!  You are such a big sissy!  Get it together and fix your make-up before the girls get here!  NOW HURRY!"  She slammed the door and went downstairs.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror.  My sister was right -- I did look like a pretty girl.  And she was also right about me being a big sissy. I knew I had to obey my sister or she would tell mom and dad.  As I started redoing my make-up, I tried to imagine what it was going to be like, being in a fancy nightclub in a pretty backless dress, sexy stilettos and glamorous make-up, knowing that men would be trying to talk to me and buy me drinks and...other things.

"Michael!  I mean Michelle!" my sister yelled from downstairs.  "Hurry up!  The girls are here!"

I dried my tears and fought to calm myself down.  I fixed my mascara and finished putting on my bright red lipstick.  I grabbed my little clutch purse and headed down the stairs.

When my sister's friends saw me, they screamed with delight.  They all told me how pretty and sexy I looked.  They said that all the guys would be drooling all over me tonight.  I enjoyed hearing the girls say that I was pretty -- but talking about the men at the club made me feel  sort of sick to my stomach.

One of the girls said, "And when you're giving some guy a blow job tonight, be sure to swallow every drop.  You don't want to get any stains on  your mother's pretty dress."

The girls howled with laughter at that.  I almost started to cry again.

"Time to go, Michelle," my sister said.

Friday, March 1, 2013

A Simple Minded Sissy

Poor Sissy Gretchen.  His transformation had been particularly difficult.  He had resisted the process every step of the way.  He simply would not cooperate with the plans I had for him.  But I knew he would make an exceptionally pretty -- and valuable -- sissy once the transformation was complete.

Through a combination of drugs, hypnosis, electroshock and beatings, I was eventually able to break through his resistance and complete his conversion.  And I was right -- I was able to transform this young man into one of the prettiest sissies I ever made.

Aided by a daily dose of narcotics, Sissy Gretchen becomes a simple minded little sissy who no longer has any will of his own.  He will obediently follow any instruction given no matter how demeaning or disgusting.  That makes him the perfect sissy escort.  I have a long list of wealthy men who have no problem paying me thousands of dollars for a few hours with this gorgeous and completely docile sissy love doll.

At the end of every long day of sissy sex servitude, Sissy Gretchen has an unusual bedtime routine.  He strips off his pretty dress and slips into a sexy, sheer and very revealing baby doll nightgown. Then he allows me to put a ball gag in his mouth and to tie his wrists and ankles to the bedposts.  Sissy Gretchen falls asleep, content and mindless.  I leave his bedroom light on.

These bedtime preparations are required because during the hours before dawn, Sissy Gretchen will awaken as yesterday's dose of narcotics begin to wear off.  As his brain begins to refocus, he remembers who he was -- and what he has become.  I expect his mind is flooded, all at once, with images of his feminized self submitting to the disgusting demands of his many male clients.  The terror he experiences is amplified by seeing his own gorgeous sissy reflection in the mirrored ceiling above his bed, his enormous breasts barely concealed by his sheer baby doll nightie.  He writhes in mental agony on top of his bed, struggling to free himself from his lashings.  His screams muffled by the bright red ball gag in his mouth.

I allow this to continue to a couple of hours until I am ready to get out of bed and deal with poor Sissy Gretchen.  By then he is a wreck, overcome by his exhaustion and horror.  I stand above him and tease him.  "Oh, what's the matter sissy?" I might say.  "Don't you like staring at your sexy reflection in the ceiling mirror?  Aren't you happy that you are now a perfect sissy slut?  Didn't you have fun yesterday -- and everyday -- doing all those nasty things you did to all those men?"  It doesn't take much to get him to start sobbing.

Eventually I take pity on him I inject him with today's dose of narcotics.  He slips back into unconsciousness for a couple of hours.  When he awakens later, the episode he experienced just a few hours earlier will have been completely forgotten, as he begins another day of obedient sissy sex servitude.