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Suddenly Suzette (Chapters 1-3) by Throne
🕑 Added 2024-12-08 21:13:26 +0000 UTCSuddenly Suzette by Throne
"Suzette!" my wife called from another part of our house. "Come here,
please."
Why was she using that name?
As I moved toward her, I realized she was in the spare room where our
computer was. I had been on it earlier and thought I had signed out.
Could I have forgotten to do that? As I entered the room, she was
sitting there in a pullover top and slacks. I saw what was on the
screen. Oh no! She had found my drawings.
Dana asked, "Is there anything you'd like to tell me about these, Joey?"
"I... err... well... sort of... have this hobby... to help me
relax..."
"Oh?" she said dubiously. "It looks to me like you've put quite a lot
of work into this so-called hobby. In fact, it appears that you'd like
to be the guy in those images. And to be called Suzette."
She pointed at my exposed work. There was a male figure, dressed in a
slip and stockings. He was being confronted by an angry wife with a
trim but sexy figure, who could easily have been Dana. The woman was
wagging her finger at him as she delivered a blistering scolding.
"It's just..."
"And furthermore, I wouldn't mind doing that to you. After all, you've
never been very good at being a traditional male. Hiding this from me
has earned you some heavy paybacks." She stood up and glared at me.
"In fact, we're going to get started on it right now. I'll call it
Project Suzette, and base everything on this big file of artwork you've
created, plus what else I found there."
"Maybe we could talk about..." was all I got to say.
She cut me off with, "There's no need to talk. What I discovered tells
me everything I need to know. It's like an instruction manual on how to
turn a husband into the sissy he wants to be, along with some more
advanced moves."
I had always longed for this situation, but not while forfeiting control
over it. To have my wife, in such a vindictive mood, turning my fantasy
into her version of a reality, made me quiver.
Fixing me with an unblinking stare, she declared, "I assume you have a
stash of pretty things to wear when I'm not at home. Let's see it...
NOW!"
Utterly cowed, I nodded and stepped out into the hallway. She followed
me to the walk-in closet, where I went to the far corner and dug out a
large box from under several others. As I opened the flaps, my
collection of panties, slips, stockings, slippers, sleepwear and dresses
was revealed. Under those items were several pairs of shoes. Hidden in
a smaller carton was a hatbox. I sheepishly took that and unlidded it.
Inside was my wig, a short blond one in a pixie-cut. She pointed to it
and then to my head. I meekly took it and fitted it over my scalp.
Dana smiled nastily.
"Oh, yes," she said. "I can see I'm going to enjoy this. You're going
to get plenty of what you've been secretly craving. Maybe more than you
want."
At that point, having been found out and standing there bewigged, I was
at a loss for words. All I could manage was a whispered, "Yes, dear."
She told me she liked the way I sounded and ordered me to use that
subdued voice at all times with her. "Now," she went on, you can turn
yourself completely into Suzette for me."
"Okay." I was barely audible. "I'll just take some of these things
into another room and..."
"You will not," she announced firmly. "You'll do it right here, in
front of me. If you have any cosmetics in your stash, you can apply
them in front of the bathroom mirror. Or have you been stealing my
make-up?"
"Some of both, darling," I admitted.
"Naughty boy. Or should I say, naughty sissy. That's what you are,
Suzette. A sissy who has just lost all your bedroom privileges."
That made me cringe. Our sex life hadn't been fully satisfying, but now
it would be greatly curtailed. Or at least, any fulfillment for me
would be either rare or gone. In defeat, I began to undress in front of
her. When I was naked, she eyed me up and down.
Dana decided, "That little bit of body hair you have will get
eliminated. You may use one of my disposable shavers at first, and then
I'll have something more long-lasting done about it." Before that had
time to fully sink in, she snapped, "Put your panties on, princess.
Make sure they're extra girly ones."
My eyes went straight to a pair that were pink, and bikini-cut, with a
mesh bottom that would leave my buns visible. I had always enjoyed
wearing them and looking back over my shoulder at the panel mirror
mounted on the inside of my wife's closet door, to admire how they
showed off my nether charms. Now I had a different reaction. My
stomach clenched as I stepped into them and drew them up my slender
legs. As I snugged them into place, a familiar sensation resulted.
"What's that?" Dana wanted to know. "Is somebody's pipsqueak pecker
getting hard? You must be totally hooked on playing dress-up, if you
can get stiff even under these circumstances. How fortunate for you
that your boy-bits are so small, husband dearest. That way, they don't
interfere too much with the illusion that you're a real female."
My cheeks grew warm and I knew I was blushing. I'd always been
sensitive about my small size down there. Dana had mostly remained
silent about that shortcoming, except for an occasional chiding remark.
I knew that, in contrast to my premarital history with women, which was
almost nil, she had dated a lot of guys while she was single, with a
preference for jocks. I'd gotten the impression that she ended up wed
to me because she wanted to settle down and put her wanton ways behind
her. There couldn't have been a better choice if she desired a quiet
life, especially in bed. I had been attracted to her not only for her
pretty face and a figure that would qualify her to be a swimsuit model.
Although I hadn't consciously understood it in the beginning, Dana's
main appeal to me was her assertive personality. She pretty much ran
things in her home and with our finances, which I came to understand was
my preference.
A shiver ran through me as I selected a short, cream-colored slip and
put it over my head. As it slithered down my body, it's satiny feel
against my bare skin added to the arousal that had seized me. I wanted
my wife to exert dominance over me, but was fearful of how far it might
extend. She straightened my wig, which must have gone askew when I
donned the slip, which reached only to the tops of my thighs. If I
raised my arms or bent over, I would flash her with those pink panties.
I picked some stockings out of the carton and held them up for her
approval. They were tan, with a pattern of red hearts all over them.
She gave a single nod to show her approval.
"You can go and sit on the toilet to roll those up your legs, Suzette."
"Yes, Ma'am," I answered docilly. "Thank you."
I was in full submissive mode. My erection wouldn't subside and my
nipples tingled, particularly when the slip rubbed against them. At the
same time, I was worried about what else she might do to me. There were
some rather strong events depicted in my drawings and that incriminating
fiction. All those were ones that I'd never seriously wanted to happen
to me. Now, the line between fantasy and real life might get erased.
As I went toward the bathroom, I naturally fell into a mincing walk.
Dana said that it was the only way she wanted me to move when I was with
her and dressed. I sat on the toilet lid and rolled the stockings up my
legs adeptly, having done it many times before. Then she had me stand
and gaze at my features' reflection in the vanity mirror.
"Somebody still needs their face done," she pointed out. "You can
borrow some of my cosmetics to do the job, sweet cheeks."
"Of course," I confirmed in a strained whisper. This was half a
glorious dream and half a nightmare.
I went to work with foundation and blush, before moving on to eyeliner,
shadow, and mascara. Then came lipstick, in dark pink with a matte
finish. The end result was what i usually aimed for, sexy but not
overstated. I had always seen my Suzette persona as somewhat shy,
though a bit of an exhibitionist when alone.
Dana said, "Let's go and compare your pretty face to what's in those
drawings of yours. And then I'll see what else from there I can make
happen."
The mention of going further made me shudder. My wife wasn't losing any
momentum. If anything, she was picking up more. This wasn't going to
end anytime soon. Part of me had hoped she would get it out of her
system quickly. Another part of me wanted it to go on and on. The
problem was that I no longer was in charge of where it went or how far.
She sat me in front of the computer. Together we examined several pages
of my efforts. There was also a story I had liked and copied into my
file, one by a writer who used the pen name of Thorn. She had already
read that and mentioned several scenes in it that had caught her
interest. Thorn tended to go beyond my personal limits, so introducing
him to this roleplaying disturbed me. There was a page of mine on which
a Mistress walked her slave like a dog. That piqued Dana's interest.
"We don't have a proper collar and leash," she pointed out, "but I can
get those later. Maybe we'll go to the pet supply store together, so I
can try the collars on you." She chuckled. "For right now, let's go to
the bedroom and I'll grab something to improvise with."
What she found was one of my belts. I had to get down on all fours.
She held the buckle end and put the other in front of my mouth. I
gripped it with my teeth. She began to walk and I hurried to keep up.
Dana led me to the kitchen, where she took a long wooden spoon out of
the pottery urn where it shared space with other implements. She gave
my bottom a smarting swat.
"Walkies," she chirped.
As she moved ahead, I scrambled after her. My wife's shapely bottom was
well shown off in the tight slacks she wore. I couldn't help thinking
about how much I loved it and how little contact I could expect with it
from then on.
Like she was reading my mind, she said, "You'll be looking at my
backside a lot more than touching it, Suzette. When you do get your
hands near it, that will be while you're using your mouth to satisfy me.
Do you have a problem with that?"
"But I don't do that." The words were distorted by the belt between my
teeth.
"Correction. You've never done it before, because you always say it's
not manly. Now that you're not manly anymore, that objection doesn't
make sense. Agreed?"
In my present situation, I couldn't summon the nerve to speak up for
myself. Instead, I surrendered with, "Yes, dear."
"I'm sure you'll become quite proficient at pleasing me that way,
especially because I'll make sure you get plenty of practice."
I had always resisted using my mouth down below. Now, however, the
possibility was feeding into my submissive mindset. To be denied
intercourse and have to serve her orally was suddenly appealing, even if
it was simultaneously appalling. I was confused but no longer had any
say in the matter. She led me around our home with me by her side,
occasionally bending over to deliver another stroke from the spoon. I
yelped each time, barely able to keep my grip on the belt. The sounds I
made emphasized how emasculated I had become. She led me to the bedroom
and opened her closet. In front of me was the long mirror she used to
check herself when she dressed. Now it served a very different purpose.
From my lowly position, I stared at my made-up face and wig. I could
find no trace of my usual male identity.
Dana straddled me, reached back to crack my rump again, and called out,
"Giddy-up, horsy."
With the belt still in my mouth, I made a muffled sound of assent and
got us turned around. Then I made another tour of our domicile as her
steed. Her weight, though not considerable, was still a burden. I was
concerned that I might be ruining one of my favorite pairs of stockings.
A few more hits from the spoon refocused my mind on carrying Dana. When
we arrived back in the bedroom, she dismounted, got out of her slacks
and panties, and sat on the edge of the bed with her knees well apart.
"Okay, Suzette," she said with a malicious grin. "Stop biting that
belt. You wanted to play at being a girl. Now you can do it, taking
the role of my lesbian lover." She brandished the spoon over her head.
"Unless, that is, you'd like a proper spanking, instead of those love-
taps I gave you so far."
"No," I squeaked. "No more spoon. Please. I'll..." I couldn't
suppress a sob. "Do what you want."
I put myself between her shapely thighs and brought my mouth to the
split mound which I would much rather have entered with a different
organ than my tongue. The taste of the leather belt was replaced as I
lapped her furrow from bottom to top, the short blond hairs above it
tickling my nose. Dana gave a few simple instructions, mainly to make
sure I paid sufficient attention to her receptive clitoris. I was soon
doing everything well enough to keep her moaning nonstop. After what
was probably a short while, but which felt much longer to me, she had a
shuddering orgasm.
Once my wife descended from the rapturous heights, she purred, "That was
delightful. I know I'm going to want it all the time. If you do a good
enough job, I might even allow you to play with yourself through your
panties, Suzette. Would you like that?"
Inside my head, the balance shifted. I no longer fought to regain my
old self. Instead, after taking a deep breath, I confessed, "Yes, dear.
I would like that very much."
"That's fine. I only wonder how you'll feel about everything else I
have in mind. We both know that in a lot of your illustrations, and in
that story by Thorn, after the husband loses his right have sex with his
wife, she has to find fulfillment elsewhere. Luckily for us, I still
have the numbers of some of my old bedmates in my phone. Isn't that
handy?"
Was she serious? Would she cuckold me? Might Dana even bring some of
those brutish men from her past into our home? What would they think of
me? How would I be treated by them? I dreaded the answers, and yet...
and yet...
*********
Chapter 2
When I first found out that my husband Joey was doing kinky drawings, I
was surprised. But very soon I realized that his fetishes fit neatly
with his personality. He had always been rather retiring and definitely
allowed me to take the lead in our relationship. I also strongly sensed
that he wanted to be like the men in his art, who were semi-willingly
dominated by women who feminized them and more. That was why I gave him
a sort of shock treatment, immediately pushing him into dressing girly
for me and being sexually submissive. The way he responded convinced me
that I had been right about his desires. At the same time, there was a
reluctance on his part that excited me. I determined that our game
would involve me pushing his limits, and him being forced to accept what
I demanded, step by step. Where would it end up? I wasn't sure, but
knew I was eager to find out.
"Come on, Suzette. I gave you that nice apron to wear. I suppose that
when you bought it for me, you really wanted to put it on yourself. In
fact, I'll bet you did exactly that when I wasn't home. Am I right?"
At that moment, all he had on was the apron. It had a heart-shaped bib-
front, and covered him down to mid-thighs. The garment was red,
bordered all around with white ruffles. It had wide ties in the back,
which I had knotted into a large bow. Because he wore nothing else, his
bottom was inviting exposed. I gave him a playful slap on the rump to
encourage him to answer my question.
"Yes, Dana," he admitted. "But only a few times."
That amused me. He didn't have enough willpower to avoid the truth, but
was still trying to minimize his confession. There was a delightful
push-pull between his desire to dress femme, and his shame at doing it
in a less than private way. By then I had him shaving off all of his
body hair. He didn't know it yet, but I had scheduled a specialist to
come to the house and use a laser instrument, to make his smooth skin
permanent. It tickled me to see his below-average genitals with no hair
around them. Assuring that the hair would never grow back would
certainly be a blow to his already damaged male ego.
"Well, Miss Only-a-Few-Times, you can keep wearing it while you do that
sink full of dirty dishes. I want them dried and put away, too."
"May I just leave them in the drainer to air dry?"
"No, you may not." I relished talking down to him like that. Knowing
that he longed for it left me free of guilt. "And don't take all
afternoon, either."
He turned his eyes toward the floor and mumbled his assent. I had him
curtsey to me. He had been made to practice that movement before and
was becoming proficient at doing it fluidly. Instead of leaving the
room, I stood behind him and to one side, so he knew I was there yet
couldn't look directly at me. It was one of the ways I had found to
play with his head. He donned the rubber gloves I provided and cleaned
enough dishes and utensils to fill the rack. Then Joey started to dry
each item and place them into the cabinets and drawers. That would make
room for the rest of them in the drainer. Just to be a bitch, and as a
reminder that he needed to do a flawless job, I made him rewash a few
pieces, even though it wasn't necessary. We both knew I was being
unfair, which was another of my mind games. Dressed the way he was, he
obeyed wordlessly. Usually, I would have let him change into my old
Halloween costume, a French maid's outfit, after that. This time I had
something else planned.
"Now," I decided out loud after the job was completely done, "let's put
you into a pretty surprise that I bought for you the other day."
He tried to hide it, but I was sure he perked up at the mention of
whatever was new to add to his girly wardrobe. My husband would not be
disappointed by what I had found for him. At least, not at first. From
a specialty lingerie shop that spices up their offerings with a few
fetishy selections, I had bought a long diaphanous nightgown with no
sleeves or openings for the wearer's arms. It featured a cloth belt
around the hem. Once we were in the bedroom, I had him slip out of the
apron. He still wasn't entirely relaxed when disrobing in front of me,
especially because I made a point to direct my attention toward his puny
pickle and let my disappointment show. The filmy sleepwear went over
his head and encased his body. The high lace collar hugged his neck.
When he realized that his arms were trapped inside, he became visibly
concerned.
"What's the matter, Suzette?" I asked, as if I didn't already know the
answers.
"There aren't any..." The lightweight voice he was required to use
trailed off.
"No sleeves? That's to make sure you don't turn rambunctious." As if
he would even think of getting physical.
"But..."
I silenced him by tilting back my head and compressing my lips. It was
fascinating that I could regulate Joey with so little effort. Of
course, part of me still wanted him to make an attempt to stand up for
himself. Keeping him balanced precariously between two possible
reactions was a fun aspect of what I was doing.
I scowled at him. "Or do I have to use some leather straps to keep you
in line? And a bondage hood?"
"No, no, no," he piped. "I'm sorry. It's fine just like this."
Ha! I didn't even have any of that more serious equipment. My
intention was simply to put the fear-of-Dana into him once more. If I
had any doubts about his true feelings, his dick was a reliable
indicator of them. Right then it was soft from anxiety. But when I
straightened the front of my newest fashion find, making sure to tease
his nipples with the feather-light material, his pecker rose obediently.
Of course, he hadn't been allowed to have much sexual release since our
new lifestyle went into effect, so it took even less than usual to
harden him.
Getting down on one knee, I took the ends of the belt that ran though
several loops and tightened it, forcing his ankles close to each other.
Then I tied a secure knot. He looked both cute and silly, with his arms
at his sides and not much room to move them. The gossamer garment
showed off his body. I had my spouse rotate slowly so I could have a
lingering view, and he could endure more humiliation.
"Now, let's see how you get around in your lovely outfit. We'll go to
the bedroom, and I'll make up your face, Suzette."
Joey whimpered, a sound I cherished. With his stiff prick pointing the
way, he shuffled along. Once we were in the bedroom, I made a point to
rub my thigh against his straining member. I opened my closet, so he
could admire himself in the full-length mirror that hung on the inside
of the door.
"Stay right there, sweetie. I'm going to get myself a glass of wine.
Would you like one?" I waited until he tried to respond and then
stopped him by saying, "Oh, but you wouldn't be able to hold it. Would
you?"
"N... no, Ma'am."
I left him like that and took my time fetching the drink. It excited me
to think of him, abandoned there, drawn in by his reflection, loving
what he saw on one level, and being mortified by it on another. Knowing
that the former outweighed the latter, and that I was leading him deeper
into the fantasy world he wished to inhabit, gave me a special liberated
thrill. When I returned, there he stood in his silky sheath. I knew
that countless nerve endings, all over his body, were being stimulated
by it, and that the effect was even more intense when he mov
From the top of my dresser, I gathered a few cosmetics. They were a mix
of mine, some from his formerly secret stash, and a couple I had
purchased specially for these transformative sessions. He was capable
of applying them himself, and often did so under my watchful eye, but it
was still entertaining for me to put on his face for him. Besides,
while he was in that bondage nightgown, he couldn't do it. His
helplessness made my nipples buzz with erotic electricity. I set
everything on a low table that was close enough to be easily accessible
without getting in my way. Standing behind him, I held his head and
tilted it this way and that, peering over his shoulder as if I was
seeking something specific in his mirror image.
Then I repositioned myself and got busy. First there was foundation,
followed by shading to highlight his cheekbones. Then came various
products for his eyes, which really made them pop. I used pale red
lipstick to bring out his mouth without overstating it. Taking a moment
to consider everything, I decided to finish with a hint of artificial
shadow under his lower lip, just enough to suggest a perpetual pout. I
liked what I'd accomplished, especially because his short hair
contrasted so tellingly with his painted face. Even so, my intention
was to end up with a more convincing result. With that in mind, I went
to my closet to retrieve another new acquisition. It was a blond wig
that flowed to his shoulders in gentle waves and had bangs which further
called attention to his eyes. I intentionally blocked his view of the
mirror while I put it on him. That way, as I stepped aside, he got the
full impact all at once.
Joey gasped. "I'm... You made me..."
"I think the words you're trying to find are, 'Thank you, Mistress
Dana'."
"M... Mistress?" He took a deep breath. Still gazing at his
reflection, speaking as if he was hypnotized, my husband echoed, "Thank
you, Mistress Dana."
"You're welcome," I told him. "Mistress knows what her sissy wants...
and needs."
"Yes."
"Do you wonder why I made you especially eye-catching today?"
"I..." He finally shifted his attention from his own image to me. "I
didn't think about it."
"Well, it's because I'm having some lady friends over for a visit. I
want to show off my little charmer."
"But... but... nobody else has ever seen me like this."
"That's why it's time that someone did, Suzette. Isn't that true?"
He lowered his chin. This was a pivotal moment. Would my sissified
spouse rebel? Had I pushed him too far? Or would he capitulate,
opening the path for me to go to even greater lengths? Inside the
restrictive nightwear, his hands came together and he wrung them.
Joey's lips quivered.
After a suspended moment he responded in a wisp of a voice. "Yes, Dana.
Yes, Mistress."
"They'll be here very soon," I informed him. "Let's put you in the
living room, where they can get a good look at you."
He sniffled and turned away, to inch toward where I wanted him to be.
Putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, I made sure he didn't lose
his balance with his ankles bound the way they were. Once he had
arrived, I positioned him in the middle of the carpet, like a showpiece
waiting to be admired. Joey twitched nervously. I fussed with his
single piece of clothing, again making sure to rub it against his skin
as I made unneeded adjustments.
Glancing at my wristwatch, I said, "Just relax. You only have a short
wait."
Naturally, relaxing was the last thing he was capable of. The impending
visit had him in a tizzy. My hampered husband could only stay where I
had put him and wait. When our doorbell rang, he flinched. I gave his
earlobe a playful tug and went to answer the door. Waiting on our front
step were two women I had known for years, Andrea and Brie. I had
filled them in on Joey's status and cued them about how to act around
him, while leaving room for improvisation. Both were trim like me and
had dressed casually, showing off their figures without being blatant
about it. They went straight to the target and smirked at his shameful
state.
"Aren't you just delicious?" Andrea said as she fingered his collar.
"All wrapped up like a pretty package," Brie contributed.
I could tell that he was in androgenous agony and epicene ecstasy. His
inadequate penis had risen to a half salute. My friends did not miss
that telltale sign. They pointed at it and snickered.
Andrea commented, "I hope you don't have to settle for that in bed,
Dana."
"Oh, no," I assured her. "Suzette has become proficient at using her
mouth to please me."
"Do you let the pansy have any relief?" Brie wanted to know.
"Not too often. I find that she licks me better if we neglect her
urges."
Andrea got nose-to-nose with my hubby. She sniffed and complimented the
perfume I had spritzed him with.
"So, tell me," my friend asked him point blank, "how exactly does your
kind and understanding wife let you get your jollies?"
He glanced toward me, as if expecting I would extricate him for that
embarrassing inquiry. I merely stood there and let him stew in his own
juices.
Joey let out a strained moan. "Dana... Mistress Dana... let's me rub
myself through my panties." He thought for a moment and then clarified,
"When I'm wearing any."
"Oh?" Andrea smiled wickedly. "And does that do the trick? Do you get
to squirt?"
"Yes, Ma'am." She left him hanging like that, waiting to hear details.
He went on, "I make my mess inside the panties."
Brie intuited, "And then you have to leave them on?"
He certainly didn't want to confirm that truth. Standing there in the
inescapable nightie, his hairless body revealed, his unimpressive dick
on display, wigged and in make-up, he had no alternative to answering
truthfully.
"Yes, Ma'am. I'm not allowed to remove them and clean up until Mistress
says so. If I'm going to sleep next to her, I have to put rubber pants
on over my... uh... icky accident."
Andrea reached down and tapped his penis, now fully erect, with an
accusing finger. "I can see that you like talking about your nasty
habits, Suzette. You're such a kinky sissy, aren't you?"
He swallowed drily. "Yes, Ma'am. Mistress makes sure to bring that out
in me."
I decided to grant him a break, if only a brief one. Inviting the women
to the kitchen, I poured us each a glass of wine. We stayed out there
for a short time, to allow Joey to anticipate our return and fret over
what might happen next. When we reentered the room, the three of us
took seats, positioning ourselves so we were observing him from
different angles, leaving him surrounded. Our conversation covered his
new life from its beginnings.
"What you need to see," I told them, "are some of the dirty pictures he
drew. I printed out a batch of them."
Joey tensed up. Even after everything else, he didn't want those
shared. Or at least, his defeated male self didn't. The momentarily
ruling princess-persona longed for such demeaning revelations. I
produced a collection of carefully curated images. I had produced
multiples of the drawings. Each of the ladies got a duplicate set.
As I held up the first one for Joey to see, I said, "Tell my friends
what's happening in this little work of art."
He swallowed with difficulty. It was plain that he didn't want to
describe what they were viewing. After making a nervous sound, he found
his voice.
"In that one, the man... I mean, the sissy... is being scolded by his
wife for not doing his chores properly." I wanted him to detail what
the husband was wearing, even though everyone already knew. He went on,
"He has on tiny panties and a baby-doll nightie with a big bow hanging
down in front. Everything is pink, which goes along with his complexion
and creates an added effect."
When he heard himself speak the last sentence, which made him sound even
more like a sissy, he blushed prettily. I let him see the next picture
and motioned for him to speak.
"In that one, the sissy is naked except for a lace choker and stockings.
He's standing in the corner." He explained what 'corner time' meant.
"His poor bottom is all red because he just got spanked for some bad
behavior."
"Has that ever happened to you?" I inquired.
With a guilty expression he confessed, "Yes, it has."
"And did you enjoy it?"
"It hurt but, at some level, it gave me a thrill."
"So, the pansy you keep drawing could be you. And his enticing wife
might be me."
"Well... maybe."
"Let's try one more. How about this masterpiece, Suzette?"
"Um... the wife has invited a few of her lady friends to come and
see... err... what she's married to. The women are making fun of him
and laughing."
"Do you think they're amused by his outfit."
"I guess so."
"Why is that?"
"Because he's wearing harem pajamas, which are transparent and..." he
whimpered, "very embarrassing."
"But also, a treat for any true sissy to model in front of an audience."
He sniffled. "In a way. But it would be mortifying, too."
I chuckled at how his mixed emotions had gotten shown off. There were
three more pages for us to review. The first was the sissy wearing a
rhinestone collar, with a leash attached, which his wife was holding.
Then came one of a feminized guy scrubbing the bathroom floor with a
toothbrush. Finally, there was a favorite of mine, with the husband in
a maid outfit, holding a tray with two drinks on it, while his wife
lounged on the sofa. What made this one different was that there was a
third person shown. It was a burly man in a muscle shirt and jeans,
sitting next to the woman, with his long arm draped over her shoulders,
a possessive hand on her. Those stories by Thorn that I had found on
Joey's computer had a lot of cheating wives in them, so I knew that the
theme attracted him. Still, he almost never featured it in his
drawings, which suggested that it was at the outer limits of what he
wished for. He might not know conclusively how he felt about it.
All staged innocence, I asked, "What do you think is going on with the
wife and that roughneck beside her?"
There was a quaver in my spouse's words as he speculated, "He could be
having an affair with her."
"Even though she's married? How so?"
He sniveled. "Because she's married to a mincing Nancy-boy who can't
satisfy her in bed. That justifies her finding her fun with someone
else."
"Exactly," I agreed.
The two visitors broke into spontaneous but restrained clapping. Andrea
said, "It makes perfect sense."
Brie backed her up with, "Any woman who found herself with a panty-
prancer would have every right to take a lover, especially if she could
find one like in that picture."
Having brought Joey to a new low, and set the stage for possible
cuckolding, I got up, went to him, and freed his ankles. After I helped
him off with the binding nightie, I said he could change into what he'd
find laid out on our bed, and then return. He clenched his little fists
impotently and squirmed with discomfort, before scurrying away, with our
laughter ringing in his ears. I whispered my thanks to the gals for how
helpful they had been. Then we spoke about Joey, making sure to refer
to him only by his nom d' femme, loud enough for him to hear. Brie
called him 'spineless' and Andrea used the term 'dick-less'.
My lesser-half reappeared. He had on a mini-dress that barely covered
his dinky dicky. Even though it was the most he had been covered up all
evening, he still acted anxious. My friends glanced questioningly at
me.
For an answer, I told Joey, "Go to each of these nice ladies and
demonstrate your deepest curtsey."
With his cheeks reddening attractively, he went to Andrea and did a low
dip, at the same time raising the hem of his abbreviated dress. The
curious watcher was convulsed by peals of laughter. What I had given
Joey to wear included no panties. He was naked under the dress and when
he made that polite move, he exposed himself. It was somehow more
humiliating than anything before, because he was the one baring his
hairless crotch and immature male parts. Then I ordered him to repeat
his obeisance before Brie, which provoked a similar reaction. A special
technique I had been employing to drive home how firmly I regulated him
was to make him repeat actions or perform acts for no logical reason,
like when I made him rewash those dishes. Me being so fickle,
unreasonable, and random always took a toll on him. It was even more
true this time, as I kept Joey circulating between the three of us,
executing those deep moves over and over, which drove us all to
unrestrained hilarity. By the time I at last permitted him to stop, he
was a mass of frayed nerves.
"You know, girls," I said to Andrea and Brie, "we'll have to do this
again. Feel free to come up with scenarios for Suzette to illustrate."
They assured me that they would put on their thinking caps. Joey had to
perform a final flurry of curtseys as they exited. There was nearly no
chance that anyone would see him through the open door, but he radiated
anxiety nevertheless.
"You know," I said after they were gone, "you certainly became upset
about that drawing with the wife and her boyfriend. I wonder how you'd
feel if I called one of my old dates and made that a reality." I
watched the emotions that played across his face while he digested those
words. Then I said, "Right now, however, we're heading for the bedroom.
This evening's activities have gotten me all wet down below. Time for
you to perform your husbandly duties, Suzette -- sissy style."
His eyelashes fluttered. "Yes, Mistress."
Chapter 3
I'm going to tell you what happened but you might not believe me. First
off, a girl I had dated years before called me. Her name is Dana and
she was a real firecracker when I originally knew her.
She said, "Hey, Travis. Are you currently unattached?"
I had been seeing a stripper but that had ended recently, so I told her,
"I'm available."
Dana went on to explain how she had gotten hitched to this wimpy guy, so
she could put her wild years behind her and take it slow. That turned
out to be boring. Then she found out that he was some kind of
freakazoid, drawing pictures of kinky stuff. That's what she said. If
I'm lying, I'm dying.
Then she suggested, "We should get together someplace and talk about the
situation."
I wasn't going to say no to a hottie like her, so I offered to have
dinner with her at this roadhouse I like, Buck's Inn, where they offer
fat burgers. She laughed and said she'd prefer something lighter, but
that everything else sounded perfect. So, we decided that the next
night at eight would be just right. I'll admit that I started having
dirty thoughts about her right away.
When I got there, we met in the parking lot. She had hardly changed.
In fact, she looked better than I remembered. I was about the same,
still built like a football lineman and with my same blond crewcut. We
went inside and got a booth. I ordered a beer from one of my favorite
waitresses and Dana said she'd have a white wine. We chatted about old
times a bit and then got down to the issue at hand. Turned out that she
had been pushing her weirdo husband around, making him wear panties and
stuff, and was ready to take him even further. I kind of figured what
she had in mind, but asked her straight out, just so we would both be on
the same page.
"Travis," she said with a sly smile that I recalled so well, "the deal
is that I want to cheat on him. It's part of his twisted fantasy, even
if he hasn't admitted that to himself. There's a lot of stuff that he
likes to dream about but is afraid to actually have come true."
"Wait." I wanted to know, "Do you want us to sneak around behind his
back?"
She laughed. I love that sound. "No way. What I want is for you to
come to our house and let him see me with another man. It will upset
him, but I can guarantee that it will also get his little dick hard in
his panties."
"Holy crap! That's a new one on me. Even so, if it means us hooking up
again, I won't say no." I raised my glass and proposed a toast. "To
cheating on good old what's-his-name."
Her wine glass clinked against my tall beer mug. She told me, "His name
is Joey but now I call him Suzette. He's not a bad guy but he's a dud
in the sack. In fact," she shared matter-of-factly, "the only thing
he's good for when it comes to sex is using his mouth, and I don't mean
for kissing."
It was my turn to laugh. The set-up was strange but the payoff would be
worth going along with it. She went into her handbag and came out with
some copies of those drawings she had mentioned. Sure enough, they were
way off on the sick side. The main woman in them looked a lot like
Dana. The guy, she pointed out, could almost have been her husband.
The first one showed this slim dude in girly pajamas, the baby doll kind
that you can see through. He had on panties and you could tell from
that tiny bump in them that his dick was about the side of my thumb.
What he was wearing was pink, he had make-up on his face, and there
wasn't a hair anywhere on his body. She explained that it was the same
with her guy, because she had gotten him laser treatments that not only
got rid of all the hair below his eyebrows, but made sure it wouldn't
ever grow back. In the picture his wife was scolding him and he was
doing a curtsey.
The next one had him in a white slip that only came down to his waist,
so you could see the bikini panties that he had on, which were pale
yellow. He was kneeling and had his forehead all the way down on the
floor, with his hands behind his back. There was the wife again,
standing over him with her hands on her hips, kind of smirking. Dana
explained how the sissy, which is the word she used, was in a punishment
position for something he had done wrong.
"Or maybe he didn't foul up at all," she went on. "One of the things
that really screws with Joey's head is when I go after him for no good
reason at all. Just on a whim, with no explanation. That could be
what's going on in this art."
The last page was of that same chump, in baby blue panties and matching
stockings. He also had a blue necktie. His wife was holding it like a
leash, dragging him along behind her.
Dana said, "I got him to tell me what's going on here. She made him
wear one of his old ties to remind him of when he used to be allowed to
look and act like a man, instead of having to mince around, use a sweet
voice, and do whatever she says. I get fun ideas from his big
collection of drawings, along with some stories he saved, that were
written by a nut case who calls himself Thorn. That guy is so out there
that he makes the guy I married seem normal by comparison."
We ordered dinner. I asked for that place's special burger, The Big
Buck. She got a salad, which I didn't even know was on their menu. The
waitress told her that was a good choice. I drained my beer and asked
for another, like I was saying that I'd drink and eat whatever I
pleased, and didn't want rabbit food like Dana had picked.
I felt my former date's foot bumping mine under the table. I put my
hand on top of hers. We locked eyes. That sealed the deal. I was
going to visit Dana and her oddball husband, who was a total pussy.
After our meal and one more drink, we ended up back in the parking lot,
with her backed up against my truck. I put my hands on her shoulders
and kissed her. The first one was soft. She opened her lips. The
second one was hard, with our tongues slipping over each other. This
just kept getting better. I was going to show up at their home and that
pussy husband of hers was going to see some sparks fly when I got there.
I had to remind myself that it was what he wanted, even if he wouldn't
be honest about it with himself.
The big night arrived. Dana had told me to dress like a tough guy. I
put on a flannel shirt with the sleeves cut off, worn jeans and a wide
belt, plus heavy work shoes. With my military haircut and beard shadow,
I knew I'd fit the bill. Their house was a typical suburban rancher,
minus the white picket fence. I parked my pick-up at the curb and
headed for the front door. When I knocked, Dana opened it and welcomed
me inside. She looked terrific in a tight top and tighter slacks. I
didn't see her husband, but took it for granted that she had him under
her thumb and would let me get my first eyeful when the time was right.
We sat on the living-room sofa, close together.
She called out, "Suzette. We have a guest. Bring him a cold beer."
I'm sitting there and in comes this guy who made me stare, with my mouth
open. I shook my head and got over that initial shock. Even after
seeing the drawings, I wasn't ready for the real thing.
Dana acted like an announcer, saying, "Our lovely model Suzette is
wearing a cropped camisole tank top, sleeveless and with spaghetti
straps. It has a lovely lace trim across the top of the bodice. Like
her teeny-weeny panties, the top is a lovely shade of light red
bordering on pink." To her husband she said, "Turn around slowly,
Suzette and give my friend a good look at you."
With my beer still in his hand, he did as he was told. While his back
was turned, I exchanged glances with Dana, who gave me an encouraging
nod.
As he came around to face me again, I said, "Let's have the beer, pussy-
boy." When he handed it to me, I squinted at the front of his panties
and told him, "There's not much in there. When they were handing out
peckers, you got the short end of the dick. Get it? Like the short end
of the stick."
He managed a half-smile and then turned his eyes toward her, as if she
might step in and help him. His wife said, "Thank the man for his
compliment."
I hadn't given him a compliment but figured this was one of those times
she was making him do something that didn't make sense, just to bug him.
He was kind of choking when he obeyed her. I opened my beer and took a
swig.
Dana had told me to make stuff up as I went along, so I scowled at the
chump and said, "Take my shoes off for me, pussy."
He got pale but then went down on his knees. His hands were shaking.
He had trouble undoing the laces. Then he had to struggle to remove my
shoes. He stared at one of the waffle soles, like there was a message
hidden there. Then he set them off to the side. I put an arm around
Dana's shoulders and pulled her nearer. She closed her eyes and parted
those kissable lips. I gave her a smooch and didn't hurry to finish it.
When I checked back on Suzette, the sap looked like he'd been slapped.
His bride told him, "Offer to give Travis a foot rub, dearest."
He gagged on those words, too. I said yes and he took one of my feet
between both hands. Massaging through the sock, he acted like he'd
rather be anywhere than there. Dana did her part, putting a hand on my
thigh and leaning in for another lip-lock. She even did some moaning to
make sure he knew she was liking what was happening. To one-up her, I
gave her boob a squeeze. Suzette made a noise like he was going to
start crying. It wouldn't have surprised me if he did, the big baby.
I said, "If it looks like a sissy, walks like a sissy, and sounds like a
sissy, it must be a sissy. Isn't that right, Suzie Q?"
"Yes," was all he said.
Dana snapped at him, "Is that how you address a superior man?"
He tried to say something and got tongue-tied. Then he must have
understood what she wanted and said to me, "Yes, Sir. I'm a sissy." He
sure sounded like a girl.
"So, tell me, Suzy Q. Does the 'Q' stand for queer?"
"I'm not sure... Sir."
"The reason I asked is because you've been staring at my junk, like you
got x-ray eyes and can see what's inside my pants. Are you thinking
about my package, Suzy?"
"I don't know. I mean... maybe? Sir."
I chuckled. "You got to get in touch with what you want. You have to
be honest. Otherwise, you're fibbing. Do you know what happens to
fibbers?"
"They..." He shook his head. "I don't know.
I leaned forward and said, "They get punished. I think you need a
spanking. Am I right or am I right?" He acted confused. To get him
more mixed up, I added, "If you go out in the rain, you have to expect
to get wet. Isn't that true?"
His lips were quivering. Part of me wanted to destroy the tiny bit of
man that was still in him, even after everything that Dana had gotten
rid of. I suppose it was some kind of caveman thinking on my part, like
the way a mutt has to be the top dog and get the best bitch.
That was when I told him, "Back up. Stay on your knees. I'll give you
some time to think about it, before I decide if I'm going to tan your
bottom."
He inched away from me without getting up. I was borrowing from Dana
again, letting him worry about what came next for a while. To fill the
time, I started to make out with his wife. We were all over each other,
just like in the old days. She stroked my cock through my jeans,
getting me more excited. She even bent over to kiss my Johnson through
the denim. Just as it was getting to the point of no turning back, his
wife sat up straight.
She said, "I almost forgot. I bought a gift for Suzette. Hang on a
minute while I get it."
As she left the room, her pretty ass wiggled at me. I sneered at
Suzette. What Dana came back with was a collar. It was pretty wide.
She got behind him and fastened it around his neck. The thing forced
him to keep his chin up. Spelled out in glittery stuff that I guess was
rhinestones, right in front, it said SUZY. She clipped a leash to it
and walked him around the room on his hands and knees. Then she led him
back to me.
"What do you think, honey?" she wanted to know. "Should Suzy get that
spanking she earned?"
I acted like I had to think about it, but not for long. "If I don't do
it, she'll only get worse. You know. Spare the thing and spoil the
sissy."
She tugged on the leash. "Get up, Suzette. Put yourself across
Travis's lap."
It was weird to have a guy lay himself over my thighs. Of course, he
was half a girl, so that sort of made it different. Dana sat back down,
still holding the leash, and gave him this kind of hypnotic expression.
She must have wanted him paying attention to her face while he got his
fanny swatted by me. With his crazy sissy fantasies, that made sense.
He was focused on her when I surprised him with a hard smack on his ass.
The pussy squealed and kicked.
I told him, "Stay still, if you don't want me to take off my belt and
use that."
"Yes, Sir."
I peppered his butt with some more hard ones. He squirmed but kept his
legs down. Dana put her face close to his. She puckered up and kissed
the air a few inches from his lips.
"Poor Suzette," she said, like she meant it, even though I knew she
didn't. "You disrespected us and cost yourself a spanking."
He sniffled and said, "Yes, Mistress." I cracked his cheeks a few more
times.
Dana whispered, "Seeing this is getting me steamed up. After Travis is
done punishing you, I'm going to take him into the bedroom and show my
appreciation for the way he's helping me."
Suzette made some sad sounds. I was already hard from the way his wife
and I had been messing with each other. After what she had just said, I
wanted to finish coloring his rear end and move on to the main event. I
yanked on the panties, so they got wedged up in his crack, like he was
wearing a thong.
I said, "Twenty-four more, on the bare." Then I asked him, "Is that
fair, Suzy, after what you did?"
The charges against him had been vague. Even so, he didn't have any say
in how he was treated. With a sob, he agreed that the unfair discipline
was fair.
The next two dozen landed one after another, with no slow-downs. He
cried like a girl. When it was over, I got up without warning. He
rolled off my lap and landed on the carpet. Dana stood and tugged on
his leash, which brought him up onto all fours. She started for the
bedroom, with him following like a whipped dog. His sore bottom was on
display, with those panties still buried in the valley of his ass. In
the bedroom, Dana opened a closet and there was a big mirror on the
inside. She had him sit up in a begging pose, with his hands under his
chin and his fingers curled. His burning bottom was resting on his
heels. He had to see his reflection, with his eyes all red and his
cheeks pink, from crying. I guessed that he could also see us and the
bed. One thing that nobody could miss was that he was stiff, with his
baby dick pushing out against his panties.
"Let me get you undressed, babe," Dana invited.
I didn't try to stop it. Instead, I started to do the same to her.
There was lots of kissing before we were naked. My tool was rock hard
and sticking out. Suzette must have been shaken up by that, because his
peter was so small. His wife laid back, spread her legs, and grinned up
at me. I got between her thighs and set the head of my cock against her
wet slit. It was like we'd never been apart, except that what this was
doing to her idiot husband made it even better. I eased in, with her
making noises like a kitten drunk on catnip. I took my time. Suzette's
head was shifting this way and that, so I knew he was trying to get the
best view in the mirror. Next, I went faster. Changed the angle at
which I was penetrating her. Switched up my tempo several times, until
she was murmuring without any words, just sounds that told me she was
happy.
Remembering how she liked to be pushed over the edge, I suddenly turned
into a piledriver. Dana's knees came up. She hollered and had a
bucking orgasm. After she was done, I began to build her back up toward
a second climax. When she was getting close to it, she said loud enough
for her husband to hear that I could finish inside because she was safe.
I was okay with that, and timed it so we came together, which is the
best way to finish. It was sweaty and loud and fantastic. Soon, we
were stretched out alongside each other.
"Suzette," she called. "Get yourself onto the foot of the bed. I have
a job for you. Travis made a big mess between my legs and I need you to
clean it up... with that talented tongue of yours."
"I can't... You don't expect me to..."
"Hey!" I barked at him. "Do it or you get the belt."
He whimpered but climbed onto the bed and put himself between her
gorgeous legs. His head went down and I could hear him lapping up my
spunk. Holy crap! He was actually doing it, making sickened sounds the
entire time. I turned my head and kissed Dana. Everything went on for
a while. In the end, her husband even gave her a mild orgasm, one that
was a lot less intense than what she'd gotten from me.
In a sleepy voice, she asked me, "Would you like Suzette to clean you
up, too?"
That brought me to a halt for half a minute. I have buddies who've done
time in prison. They raved about making sissies give them head, and how
good it was.
I remembered an old line about that and said, "If he gives me a BJ, that
doesn't make me queer. It only makes him queer. So, sure. Do it,
Suzette."
In a strained voice he said, "No-o-o-o-o-o."
Despite that, he moved from Dana to me. She stroked my chest and blew
in my ear. I felt his tongue beginning to lap up the mixed juices and
cream from my shaft. He sucked the head. I had to wonder how this fit
into his sissy dreams, or if it went beyond what he wanted. With my
knob in between his lips, he made sounds that could have been taken for
satisfaction. Dana licked my neck. Damn. She was trying to get me
overexcited. She wanted me to blast a fresh load into Suzette's sissy
mouth. The cheated-on guy was doing his part, too. What the heck. Why
not take him the rest of the way? I rhythmically twitched my hips and
he picked up the beat, bobbing on my stiffness, taking in several inches
before it gagged him. His fingers wrapped around my pole, as far as
they could reach, and he pumped me. My ball sac was tight. I was going
to pop. With Dana's tongue tangling with mine, I shot my load. Judging
from his sounds, Suzette had trouble getting it all down. With some
added effort, he swallowed everything. His head came up and, though he
was obviously stressed, he licked his lips like the cat with the cream.
I told him, "Not bad, pussy-mouth. Your wife can give you some pointers
on how I like to be sucked."
She sent him away to get into his French maid outfit and do some dusting
that probably didn't actually need to be done. We stayed in the bed
with the sheet pulled up to our waists.
I asked Dana, "How do you think he took all that?"
"I'm sure he's going to be conflicted about it for a long time, which is
the way I want it. But that took him into new territory and, if it's
all right with you, more of the same will keep him there."
"Yeah, I wouldn't mind getting that on the regular. I keep thinking
about how his face looked when he came up for air and ran his tongue
over his lips. What do you think his expression meant?"
"Now that we put him that much in touch with his inner sissy, he'll want
more of the same all the time. He might try to tell himself otherwise,
but his look didn't lie. What I saw was pure bliss. Suzette has
finally found herself."
