A New Phase

Well, it looks like I’m well on my way to never needing to have tiny (my wife’s name for my cock) locked into a chastity device.  Several times she’s happily remarked on how well my “chemical castration” is coming along.

What she’s really referring to are the hormones I’m on as I progress in my transition to becoming female.  I’ve been on estrogen for 2 months now, with maybe a little breast, and hip growth (but hardly any so far).  The sprio though, which blocks testosterone, is what she was referring to.  It reduces the male sex drive and, over time, shrinks the testicles.

Recently I realized that my PA ring may not be long for this world.  It was integral to the 100% secure stainless steel chastity cage we used not that long ago.  But it’s getting uncomfortable now that I’m tucking my junk away to look more feminine “down there”.  And sometimes that damn ring gets really uncomfortable, squishing things in strange ways, particularly when sitting.

It also occurred to me that it may be a problem later when I go to have sexual reassignment surgery.  Since, basically, the penis is turned inside out to make a vagina, it probably won’t be good to have a hole in it.  That’s 1-2 years away at this point, but still something I’m thinking about.

I asked Mistress about it recently, and she suggested that I may as well just remove the ring.  That was a bit of a shock to consider, since my PA piercing will probably close up and heal over pretty quickly (a week or two maybe?).  What shocked me was facing the end of serious male chastity in my life.  Funny, that hit me harder than not having sex.

The extensiveness of this blog probably makes it pretty clear that chastity was a pretty important thing to me.  Masturbation, sex, and male orgasms certainly were also.  But they aren’t any more.  I’ve changed, and I’ll continue changing.  Not only has my male desire for sex been suppressed, my whole sense of sensuality is changing.  I’m amazed at how erotic simple touching can feel now.  I’ve always been a tactile-sensitive person, but hormones have turned it up to 11.

Anyway, lately I’m coming to grips with letting go of my manhood.  Chastity represented that, in a way.  My cage was an illustration of how I needed to have it controlled, lest it be out of control.  Thinking about selling my awesome metal penis prison makes me sad.  It’s a rite of passage, I suppose – if atypical.

Of course, to see me typing this with my hair up and wearing this bright, fun sun dress – you wouldn’t guess that I’m struggling with my masculinity.  And I’m not, really, I’m doing well at letting that go, because I feel so great as a woman.  But chastity – wow, letting go of that part of my life is harder.  Necessary, but a heart-felt loss.

In terms of my transition, I’m living at home and in public as a woman over half the time that I’m not at work.  My immediate family knows (parents, children, siblings), and probably 100-200 friends.  We have new friendships in the transgender and transexual community, which is wonderful.  This fall I plan to come out at my workplace, which I’m expecting to go well.  Between then and now I’ll be legally changing my name.  Serious progress.

It’s been busy, with extra appointments, investing time in new relationships, additional shopping to get my closet ready for going full-time, hair removal activities (laser, IPL, electrolysis), etc.  Mistress and I are both really looking forward to the time when we can just get on with our new lives together, without so much focus on these transitional steps.  Again, necessary, but sometimes frustrating.

And she is excited to be growing into a lesbian relationship.  Being bisexual, this is seriously working for her.  She can’t wait for me to have fuller breasts, a vagina she can have men of her choosing use, and labia she can torture.  After all, I’m still her submissive pet, regardless of my gender.

Just thought I’d update everyone.  Thanks for reading.  As always I’m open to questions and comments.

Changing Gears

Mistress was quite ill yesterday, and I took good care of her. Fortunately she’s feeling much better today. I stayed home from work to attend to her and help around the house with things that she isn’t ready to do yet.

I’ve been spending as much time as possible in my female role at home. It’s more than just crossdressing, I think of myself as a woman. Mistress commented on that today, sharing her observations that I am acting differently now in subtle ways but definitely more feminine ways. She also sees me as very comfortable and much more confident.

I’m feeling quite clear that I am going to stay on this path and, I hope, transition from being a man to being a woman. I consider myself a transsexual in the full sense of the word. I want to be a female in this world.

I made my first full-face laser hair removal appointment today (it’s a few weeks out). It will be so nice not to have to stress about the dark hairs on my face. Shaving only gets me so far, and I end up right on this edge of not really needing more makeup to cover it. I can pass in public with no makeup, but I’m more nervous about it.

I see my new transsexual therapist in a week. His credentials are impressive. I’m a little worried that I won’t be “good enough” for their program, but I’m trying not to stress it.

I look at my crossdressed body and I feel so right. Having breasts (even though they are fake today), smooth arms and legs, women’s clothes and shoes. I can see myself as a woman, and I feel so good about that. Sometimes I’m scared about it, but mostly I’m excited to finally be able to be who I feel I am in the world – a woman.

Having my male genitals in chastity during this time has been, well, interesting. Women’s clothes don’t tend to leave room for a package down there, especially one with an unforgiving and rigid metal cage. Dresses, skirts, tight pants – I have having a bulge. I’m growing to dislike my “man parts”. I can’t tuck them out of the way without discomfort or lumps.

I’m actually looking forward to trading my cock and balls in for labia and a vagina. Seriously. I want my body to look like I feel. I want more bulges on my chest, and no lumps between my thighs. I want to look down and see my female form and feel whole.

Mistress is being so supportive. I love her so much for helping me to open this door and walk through it. I couldn’t do it without her, and I wouldn’t do it if would risk our relationship. I now visualize us together as a lesbian couple; she sees it too. Since she’s bisexual, it is completely ok with her. Sure, she’s concerned about some parts (surgery is scary, the cost, how much will hormones change me, etc). But we are so clearly on this journey together. I love her so much.

I’ll try not to dwell on this too much here in this blog. But once in a while I’ll share my status. It’s a vital part of who I am and my life. I wish the process wasn’t so slow (although I understand it has to be). If I could wake up tomorrow fully female, I would take that option. Until that day, one (high-heeled) step at a time, I guess.

Political thought for the day:  With many US States considering constitutional amendments to permanently ban gay marriage, get this – my wife and I are married, and when I am a woman we will still be legally married (I’ve checked).  Yet as two females we could not get married.  Clearly this (discriminatory, homophobic) law is broken.  I very strongly encourage you to vote in your state against any such amendment. Peace out.

Ambisextrous

I am expecting my wife and keyholder to decide to return me into chastity full-time sometime over the next week. My serious skin infection is healing nicely, but being on two antibiotics has really sucked.

I’m looking forward to putting the cage back on. I haven’t even tried it out since the resizing, and I feel sad about that. The new base ring dimensions will, we hope, solve the arousal/pain problem, allowing for long-term use with no need for removal.

I posted previously about discussions that my wife and I have had about my body, genitals, and gender. She teases me sometimes about having me castrated – which apparently is a very quick and relatively simple procedure when performed by someone qualified. She recently reminded me that I’m the one that brought it up early in our relationship, something I sincerely don’t recall discussing with her. But I suppose I did. She’s even teased about turning me into a full eunuch (no genitals at all).

More substantially, though, we’ve been talking about my gender role and identity. As I’ve been able to spend many more hours per week crossdressed at home (and sometimes carefully in public), things feel different. My wife commented how happy and content I seem to be when I am in my female role.

While at face value the comment didn’t surprise me, we talked further and I realized that she had a substantial point. I feel better, more complete, whole, myself, feminine, comfortable, at ease, happier, and so on when I am presenting as a woman. We both realized this could be something deeper.

Since that conversation we’ve talked a lot more, and I’ve observed myself and my emotions more closely. I was surprised about several things. I realized I do feel somewhat resentful of having to wear my “boy clothes” to work and elsewhere in public. It occurred to me that I have disliked my body hair for decades. Now that I’ve grown out my hair, I love brushing it, and I (surprisingly) don’t resent the extra effort.

We both took the BSRI (BEM Sex Role Inventory) test on-line (you can too - please add a comment about your results). My wife scored +18, I scored +11. Most men would score below zero (e.g. -20). Now since this test was developed in the 1970s, some professionals suggest it needs to be recalibrated for societal shifts since then. Still, it’s a well known professional tool.

Another wonderful aspect of all this is that my wife is completely supportive of this journey of discovery for me. She’s helped me find some gender identity counseling resources in our area. I have my first appointment next week. And she’s made clear that she is committed to me regardless of what genitals I may (or may not) have.

Since she is bisexual and tends to find women more attractive than men in general, there’s an interesting relationship dynamic there too. She said “It would be wonderful if you could get on hormones and grow some real breasts”. She is also happy to consider us living in public as two lesbians, if that’s where things end up.

Is this just some sex-change fantasy thing? It feels like more than that (to both of us). Until recently, when I have had the safety of this relationship and her unwavering love and support, I haven’t been able to even think such thoughts. It simply wasn’t an option to even consider, so there was no sense in seeing it as any more than a fantasy. But now, my sense of self and identity feels called into question, in a sincere and somewhat frightening way.

I shared with my wife a thought experiment I came up with. Consider this: You are offered all necessary gender alteration surgeries for free with no side effects or risks – would you do it? My wife’s answer for herself is a strong no. My gut-level instinctive answer is yes, but I feel myself block that answer with all sorts of fear and rationalizations and junk.

Miguel Ruiz, in his book The Four Agreements, beautifully clarifies the role of society as responsible for “domesticating the human”. I have been domesticated as a male. But is that who I am inside? How do I integrate these seriously feminine aspects of who I am without damaging my existing relationships (e.g. family, work, etc)? I easily feel overwhelmed about this lately.

I also realized that, as long as I can orgasm, which genitals I have doesn’t matter to me that much. My wife pointed out that my strong desires for chastity and useless penis humiliation could indicate a psychological dissatisfaction with my male genitals. That blew me away.

Am I just getting off on this as a fantasy? No, these discussions don’t turn me on, if anything they illuminate the fact that I’ve fallen into a rabbit hole, destination unknown. I’m experiencing a lot of confusion, many strong emotions, some loss of that sense that I know who and what I am, and some fear that I don’t know where this will lead. I’m open to all possibilities, including remaining just as I am after some counseling to get my head straight.

Oh, and my wife made it clear that we definitely would be getting a female chastity belt for me, if I end up as a woman. She wisely knows that the sexual servant/slut part of me would have an extremely difficult time being chaste. She also clarified that she would have no interest in a dildo attachment for my belt (to fuck her), as that’s what her other (likely black) male lovers would be for. But she certainly would look forward to strapping one on herself and fucking me in all of my holes.

Since this blog is primarily intended to be about my experience in chastity, I promise to return my focus to that – as soon as I am locked back up. This is only the beginning of my gender identity journey. And likely the beginning of some long-term chastity too, very soon.

P.S. In case it needs explaining, the title of this post is a tweak to the word “ambidextrous”, whose first dictionary definition is “using both hands with equal ease”. As I explore androgyny and my feminine side, it seemed to relate.

Teased into Pain

I suffered through a very intense tease-fest last night.

My wife and I went to bed, and she wanted to “see tiny” which now means “show me your chastity cage”. I presented myself to her, and we were both surprised how small my cock was in the cage. I’ve been wearing it for 6 days now, and I inspect it frequently. This was the first time I’d seen myself shriveled as opposed to merely flaccid.

My penis was narrow enough to be loose within the cage. Until then I’d always been large enough so that my shaft was snug against the inside of the cage bars. But now it looked as if the cage was way too big. The humiliation aroused me, and before long tiny was pressing up against the bars again.

My wife tried to masturbate me through the cage. She asked me if I could cum that way, and I said no. I just can’t get enough stimulation, as the bars only allow contact with a fraction of my glans. She gave me permission to orgasm, but neither her hand nor mine could complete that job. The attempts, however, got me very horny and amused her.

My wife teased my cock and my nipples for quite a while. This was the most arousal I’ve had since putting on the JailBird. The base ring felt a bit small as my genitals swell up to the maximum size permitted by the stainless steel entrapment. It was somewhat painful (I’m thinking I may need a larger base ring). My wife was really enjoying the look of my cock severely compressed in the cage, with bits of flesh poking out between the bars.

I was so sexually frustrated I was moaning and to the point of crying many times. I was instinctively yet uselessly humping the air and begging to have sex with her. She just laughed and said “No, I don’t think so”. She compared my antics to the humping that dogs sometimes do when they get randy.

She also reminded me of how she couldn’t be satisfied by my cock anyway, reinforcing how small it was. “You probably couldn’t even get hard enough to fuck me. The longer tiny is locked up, the more he atrophies and the more useless he becomes. Eventually it’ll be just a worthless lump of flesh. And tiny is just too small to be worthy of going inside me anyway.”

Then she brought up the black man she’s contacted, and started raving about his long, thick, impressive black cock. “Now that’s a cock that could satisfy me” she said. “Did you see how muscular and strong he is? I bet he could overpower you and rape you. You’d like that too, wouldn’t you? Having him force that massive cock of his inside you?” It was true, so I could only concur.

She put her hand between her legs and wet her fingers from her sex. Then she put her fingers under my nose. The smell of her juices drives me wild, and I bucked my hips in a frenzy. She repeated this olfactory stimulation about a dozen times. “I imagine it would feel sooooo good to have his cock inside my wet, warm pussy. Maybe I’ll let him fuck me, and make you watch.” I was too sexually crazed to even respond, and her words turned me on even more.

Eventually she tired of the game, and got comfortable in preparation for sleep. It took me about 20 minutes to calm down. During that time I asked her about her recent dreams and fantasies, something she teased me about by text message earlier in the day. She said “Well, one is about castration.” I asked if she would care to elaborate. She said she was tired, maybe another time.

With that she got comfortable and was soon asleep. My crotch was sore from the tightness of the chastity cage, and it was a relief when I finally became flaccid again.

It’s been almost two months now since she’s allowed me to have intercourse with her. And since the cage arrived on Friday I’ve had no release. She said she wants to remove it soon to check for any physical concerns. I’m confident there won’t be any, so I’m quite sure she’ll want it right back on.

It looks like the PA lock will be here tomorrow. Installing that will be quite a momentous occasion.

Baditude

Damn – my ass has been paddled a lot lately. And with reason.

Yesterday we had a situation at our house (I’ll spare you the details), and my wife wanted to address the issue a certain way. I disagreed, and rather than be polite about it I was grumpy. Ok, I was a bit of an asshole. Not good.

You may recall that I had planned to kneel in front of her after work on Wednesday and put myself in her service for the next 5 days. She declined that, saying she considered the arrangement already in place. And she reminded me that my (linked-chain) necklace was, in fact, a collar. So for me to be anything but her cooperative servant/slave this long weekend will end up being bad for me.

Yesterday her discipline for my bad attitude was to redden my bottom using our nice leather paddle. I was yelling so much (yes, it hurt) that she stuffed one of her dirty socks in my mouth. I reluctantly admit that it worked pretty well to quiet me down.

Today we disagreed about something in the kitchen around lunchtime. Again my attitude was not appropriate. Within the hour I was bent over the bed again upstairs. This time her implements were the red paddle, two of her favorite rattan canes, and our biggest wooden paddle with bumpy tire tread on one side. She wailed on my ass this time, clearly unhappy about two issues in only two days.

After that she told me to clean the downstairs bathroom to be spotless. And she strapped the spiked breast binders around me so the spikes were digging into my red ass cheeks. Certain movements really tightened it, causing significant pain. She seemed pleased at the arrangement. Just over an hour later the bathroom was ready to pass her inspection (and later did – whew!).

I hope I can keep my attitude in check. My butt hurts.

I really do want to descend further into submission. It’s important to me to really be able to give myself completely to her. And I sincerely regret it when my pride, selfishness, or independence gets in the way of my service to her. And not just because of being punished. I feel bad emotionally for letting both her and myself down.

Deep down I know she wants me to submit to her completely. And I want to give that gift to her. It’s not surprising to me that I struggle sometimes, this level of change isn’t trivial. But I do get frustrated with myself sometimes for getting in my own way.

This morning I knelt before her and hugged her, letting her know I loved her very much. She patted my head. I told her that I hope to be able to make love to her sometime soon. She asked “You do, do you?”. I said “Yes, Ma’am”. She replied “Well, somebody will, but I highly doubt that it’s going to be you.” I meekly replied “Yes, Ma’am”.

She continues to point out attractive black men when we are out together. And she mentioned wanting to rent some porn videos that feature black studs with white women. I’m more than a little concerned about what changes might happen once I’m finally locked up for real. It’s only 2-3 weeks away. Will she really go through with cuckolding me?

Based on some of the things she’s said recently, it sounds like she has no plans to let me back inside her. And I know by then she will be feeling physically better, and likely very horny. I don’t know how long she plans to keep me locked up, or release schedules, or anything. And I wonder if and when she will get involved with other men, for real.

Her focus on my humiliation lately has been the uselessness of my cock to her. I’m really feeling my inadequacy reinforced, and part of me is really buying into it. I’m also betrayed by my own cock, as it tries to get hard when she talks about how small and pointless is it, or about her other “lovers” and how satisfied their cocks feel inside her.

We watched a movie about someone who is transitioning their gender from female to male. It was interesting and generated some good conversation between us on the topic. The relationship between testosterone and male-aggressive behavior was made clear in the movie. My wife brought up the idea of castrating me again, clearly pondering the possibility in light of my recent attitude problems. And you know, I have to concede that she has a point (although removing my balls is probably too extreme of a solution for real).

The next day I was a bit surprised when she asked me if I would have a sex change for her. I told her (honestly) that if she wanted it and it would make her happy, I would. And I meant it. It seems like such an edgy thing to play with, something that extreme. It makes me wonder about what she’s using as a mind-fuck and what she might really be thinking about for real.

I brought home a holiday card from my boss, that featured pictures of their entire family. My wife looked at it and said, rather incredulously, “That’s your boss?”. I confirmed it for her. She said “Wow, he’s hot. Do you think he’d like to fuck me? He’s really attractive. Would you mind if I did that, honey?” I said “No, Ma’am, please feel free to fuck my boss.” She just said “Hmmmmm.”

Well, let’s see what the next 3 full days of service to her will hold.

Advanced Cuckolding

[ This is an original fantasy story, a continuation of the Cuckold Initiation story. Please attribute properly. ]

It’s been about 6 months now since my wife and her boyfriend Richard initiated me as her cuckolded husband. I have written previously about that experience.

Two months ago Richard moved in with us. He has taken over many of the things which used to be “mine”, the most significant of course being my wife. He’s moved into the master bedroom with her. They now share the closet we used to share for our clothes, and he now uses the dressers and nightstand that I used to use. And of course he sleeps each night with my wife in the bed she and I used to share.

But that’s only the beginning of the changes that have happened since I became her cuckold.

Richard makes more money that I did, so they had me quit my job. I now dress as a woman 24×7, and stay home to take care of the house, cook, clean, do their laundry and errands, and more. I even go shopping as a woman now. Fortunately I am very passable, and it’s never been a problem.

They’ve decided that I should have real breasts as well. One of them watches every morning to ensure that I ingest the hormone cocktail they found on-line, which is pretty rapidly reforming my body. My breasts have grown to nearly C-cups, my nipples hre substantially larger and more sensitive, and my body fat is redistributing.

I think my testicles are shrinking too, and I’m certain my cock doesn’t get hard as it used to. I used to really strain against my chastity device, and the spikes inside the cage used to really bit into my glans. But lately it just feels snug when I get aroused, and the spikes don’t seem to dig as deep. I suspect that the hormones will eventually make me impotent. My wife still talks about castrating me, and at this rate there won’t be any reason not to do so.

Richard sometimes likes rough sex, which my wife is not into at all. So they decided he could use me as his slut whore when he is feeling like he wants to get aggressive sexually. If work was particularly stressful, he will use me when he comes home, often forcefully face and/or throat fucking me until he cums. I’m learning to accept it.

At bedtime there are other little rituals they enjoy. If my wife doesn’t want to suck Richard hard, they make me do it. Other times they have me lay on my back and Richard sits on my chest and dangles his balls in my mouth. He likes it when I run my tongue around his scrotum while I suck gently on his hairy balls. It’s humiliating to watch my wife’s lips slide up and down his fine cock as I stimulate his manly balls to produce more cum.

Here is another rough ritual they both enjoy often. They tie my ankles to the foot of the bed corners, bend me forward, and truss my wrists to the corners at the top of the bed. If Richard does ties me up, he likes to make the bondage very tight. They put two thick foam pads under my waist to get my ass to just the right height for Richard’s cock. My genitals point down, so that as Richard fucks me I can feel his large manly balls slapping against my small, shrinking nuts.

My wife then lays on the bed with her legs spread and her pussy about a foot from my face. She plays with herself and masturbates while watching my face as Richard has his way with me. She like to smear her pussy juices under my nose, since her smell forces me to try to get hard. I’ve realized this conditions me to eroticize what happens afterwards. Richard steps behind me and spreads my ass cheeks far apart with his strong hands. In that moment I feel (and am) utterly helpless yet very turned on.

One of Richard’s favorite techniques is to put the tip of his cock right at my anus and move it in little circles. By his moans I suspect this really turns him on. During this time he expects me to hold my anus tightly closed. Then, without warning, he will plow his cock all the way into me. This usually makes me scream and start to cry.

My wife loves that part. Often she will encourage him to do it again. And again. He pulls completely out, and when he’s ready, slams balls-deep into me again. My wife usually brings herself to orgasm during this part while I’m screaming and crying. Sometimes Richard will make be beg for more, which is humiliating and degrading. I always comply, and feel like an utterly debased sex object, which is appropriate, since I am.

The intensity of the invasion that his thick, hard cock causes as he rams it past my tightened little asshole is impossible to describe. Once he’s done piledriving, then Richard will usually take his time fucking me, sometimes 20 minutes or more. He seems to enjoy calling me all sorts of names like his bitch, slut, whore, a wimp, pussy, and faggot. I end up craving his orgasm, since feeling his cum finally spraying inside me ends the anal onslaught. I always have to thank him afterwards.

Since Richard prefers that my anus remain tight to maximize his pleasure, they avoid using butt plugs or dildoes on me. My ass would probably hurt less afterwards, but I realize that Richard’s pleasure is more important. The one exception is our heavy metal plug, which Richard has me use for anal training. Every morning I do my “exercises” which involves tightening my sphincter to hold it inside as long as possible. I have to chart my reps and durations so they can monitor my progress.

Richard also doesn’t like to use much lube. In fact, just a little of his spit, whatever is left after it runs down my ass crack, is usually all he uses. He doesn’t like it too slippery, the friction arouses him more. The result, however, is that my anus ends up pretty raw and sore. That’s another reason why I cry while he rapes me, but his pleasure comes before mine.

Sometimes they have me sleep in what they call the Slave’s Room, which is my bedroom. Sometimes they tie me up for the night just for fun, sometimes not. For punishment they will make me drink lots of water (or their pee) before bed, or even make me administer one (or more) enema solutions to myself. I have to put on a diaper and plastic pants — my bed already has a waterproof mattress cover. After a night of bondage in my own waste, I usually have learned a valuable lesson.

Most nights I am fortunate enough to join them in the master bedroom. There is a mat on the floor at the foot of their bed. A padlock is used to lock my chastity device to a short chain at the foot of the bed. So literally, my cock is chained to the foot of the bed that my wife shares with her lover. Richard had me install buttons for the two of them which release a retracting key for the padlock. In that way they let me unlock myself to do things for them after they’ve gone to bed.

One of these night-time chores is being their urinal. They don’t have to get out of bed, walk through the cold house all the way down the hall, just to use the toilet. I save them the trip and pee on their behalf later. I’ve found that I prefer to drink their night piss, since morning urine has a much stronger and less desirable taste and smell.

When Richard wants to pee, he will sit up on the end of the bed and I put slippers on his feet. Then I get between his legs and he puts his limp cock in my mouth. He’s trained me to guzzle properly. I swallow 10 times, then he stops his stream so I can take a breath. This repeats until his bladder is empty. I then relock myself at the foot of the bed. I’m not allowed to wake them to use the bathroom myself nor wear diapers in the master bedroom. So some nights I don’t get much sleep because my bladder is so very full. They insist this is good training, and that my bladder will enlarge so it can hold and more more over time.

Of course they make love while I’m chained to the bed. At least twice a week I get to hear them enjoying each others bodies while they completely ignore me. I’m so happy that Richard is able to provide so much pleasure to my wife. It is music to my ears to hear her enjoy his attentions, and to orgasm thanks to his cock, hands, tongue, or whatever. It’s so important to me that she be sexually satisfied.

During the days, Richard sometimes has me do favors for him with some of his work clients. Typically this involves me delivering some paperwork to a client at their hotel, as they are usually from out of town. Richard sets it up so that about half the time they are expecting me to give them a blow job as well. I don’t know when Richard has or hasn’t told the client, but my orders are to ensure they are fully satisfied.

During the days, Richard sometimes has me do favors for him with some of his work clients. Typically this involves me delivering some paperwork to a client at their hotel, as they are usually from out of town. Richard sets it up so that about
half the time they are expecting me to give them a blow job as well. I don’t know when Richard has or hasn’t told the client, but my orders are to ensure they are fully satisfied.

It’s an interesting predicament. I can’t risk them not using me for their pleasure, since they might expect it. I’ll be punished if they didn’t “get some”. But they tend to be cautious so it’s impossible for me to tell who knows and who doesn’t. I end up awkwardly letting them know that I “want them to be fully satisfied with my services”. They usually take the hint, and before long their cum is trickling down my throat. A few have gone further and forcably raped my ass, but I don’t dare say anything. I bring a sanitary pad just in case so that, as I’m driving home, their cum running out my behind doesn’t mess up my clothes or the car.

Richard and my wife entertain in our house too. Sometimes I am just a vanilla maid; no one seems to really notice. For their sex parties they outfit me in various embarrassing ways in order to ridicule me as the sissy, chaste, cuckold husband of the hostess. One time I had to serve the guests all night dressed as a baby, wearing ten diapers at once, a bonnet, and pacifier. I was required to suck on a baby bottle that they kept refilling with their piss. All their guests are free to use me as they wish during their sex parties.

The good news is that my wife has wonderful sex with Richard. They make love several times a week, as far as I know, perhaps much more than that. They don’t hide it, in fact they prefer that I am aware. My wife makes use of me as her “cum dump”, letting Richard’s big loads run out of her pussy into my mouth. She much prefers this to “wasting it down the toilet” and having to walk to the bathroom herself. I always have to thank Richard for the privilege of swallowing his cum.

One Saturday they gave me a long list of household chores to complete. They were going out for a full day of shopping, eating out, driving around, and having fun. I had to wear my locking 4-inch heels with a short chain between my ankles, which was just long enough to permit me to use the stairs. My elbows were tied 18 inches apart behind my back. My wrists were locked to an 18-inch spreader bar in front of me, and that bar was chained to my locking collar. They took all the keys with them, so there was no chance for me to get unlocked.

Most chores were much, much more difficult in this bondage. I could sit to pee, of course, but could not reach to clean my ass (which explained the series of large enemas early in the morning). About noon Richard called to tell me a client was stopping by to drop off some papers for him. I was nervous as I opened the door for him, being tied up as I was. It wasn’t long before he had made me suck him hard and then brutally raped me. He seemed to really enjoy himself.

After he left I tried to catch up on my chores. I did not complete them all. Understandably, I was punished severely. Perhaps another time I will share the details of that extensive “corrective experience”.

My life has certainly been transformed. Looking back at my cuckold initiation, I was just a sissy, pantied, chaste, cuckold husband. Now I am also a maid, slave, whore, toilet, servant, cum-dump, sex toy, and she-male. I don’t dare predict
what they plan for me in the future, although things like eunich or transexual seem like possibilities.

A sissy can always dream.

Tiny really is tiny

Last night my wife spent some time comparing her new vibrator with tiny (her name for my cock).  It was a bit of a shock to have to face this reality, but tiny really is smaller than I realized.

I suppose most men have a somewhat inflated sense about the size of their cocks.  I have always considered myself slightly above average in length and at least average thickness.  But I think I’ve been proved wrong.

We were in bed and she was teasing me with her vibrator, stimulating tiny and my nipples.  It was very erotic and tiny got as hard as he’s been in weeks.  Then came the shock: she put her vibrator next to my cock and her vibrator was significantly longer.

Her vibrator is not some monster unit. The box says it is 5.25 inches long. Tiny was definitely smaller by more than a quarter-inch, which means, sadly, that my erect cock is significantly less than 5 inches long.  That is quite a blow.

“Well that explains quite a lot, doesn’t it?” she asked.  “Yes Maam”.  “It’s probably quite embarassing for you to realize that this little vibrator is bigger than your cock, isn’t it?”  “Yes Maam. It’s very clear now that I have an inadequate cock. I’m sorry.”  She tried to console me, “Well, you can’t help it if you were born with a small and barely useful penis.  At least I now have this so that I can finally feel something inside me.”

I told her I was very happy that she was able to get sufficient pleasure from her new toy.  She pointed out that besides the larger size, her vibrator had other wonderful features.  Yes, it has various vibration settings, but she also pointed out that it was always hard and so it could never disappoint her.  She also said she liked how it didn’t make a mess, that it didn’t bother her with it’s own needs, and that she could just keep it in a drawer until she felt horny.

She then proceeded to use it to orgasm while I watched.  It felt like a new experience, though, as the truth settled into my mind about my lack of sufficient manhood.  Watching her pleasure herself is erotic to me, and I wish that it was me inside her instead.

After her climax I was still erect, and she looked over at tiny and laughed.  “Look at how small tiny is!  So pathetic.  It’s almost sad,” but clearly she thought it was quite funny.  She had me smell and lick her juices off the vibrator as she belittled my hard but now shrinking dick.

Until now I felt like it was something we had played with, more of a mind-fuck than reality.  But I could not dispute that side-by-side comparison.  It was like I was seeing my own cock for the first time, as it really is – small.  All her comments in the past about it being a good size for her and such were apparently simple kindness on her part, not wanting me to feel inadequate.  I love her so much.

However, it’s now very clear to me that that I am indeed inadequate.  I’m slowly accepting that now.  My worthless cock really does need to be locked up, since masturbation is about all it is good for anymore.  I see why our future is about her sexual pleasure, not mine.  And I’m sincerely happy that her new vibrator is a great source of pleasure for her.

For those just tuning in (my readership recently spiked – yay!), my wife had tiny pierced on Saturday with a Prince Albert captive bead ring, 8 gauge.

Another development is that we went shopping for more girl panties for me to wear.  I now have over a dozen pair of both cotton and silky women’s panties.  I had to move all of my men’s underwear out of my dresser and into storage to make room.  I will be in panties every day going forward.

I think I was washing dishes when my wife asked me how I liked wearing panties.  I told her I liked it a lot, they were comfortable and I thought they were pretty.  She said “You’re such a sissy, aren’t you?  Do you like being called a sissy?”  I told her I did, since that’s how I often see myself, especially now.  I was a little surprised how comfortable she seemed to be with that.

Later she asked me me some questions revisiting the topic of my sense of gender.  She asked straight out: “Do you ever think about having a sex change?” I told her the truth, that I do think about that, but “I know I wouldn’t pass the psychological testing for it.”

To clarify, she asked “So it’s not about feeling you are the wrong gender in your body?”  Again I answered honestly: “No, it’s just that I’d like to experience the world as a woman, even just crossdressing.  Living like that for, say, a year, would be amazing to me.”  She queried “What about surgery?”  I responded that “I would consider it, but I accept that it’s unlikely to really happen.”  She seemed satisfied and left it at that.

I haven’t told her yet about how I’ve been feeling jealous about her sexy body.  I look at her lovely breasts, her sexy shape, her beautiful vulva and tantalizing clitoris, and I wish I had those features.  Maybe someday I can tell her how I wish I had pretty breasts and a vagina that men could use for their pleasure.

Again, I don’t want to read too much into all this.  But her reinforcing that my cock is puny and inadequate, her ongoing interest in castrating me, and the multiple discussions about me having a sex change – it all seems just a little frightening, in a good way, I think.  I feel quite sure the surgical items are just a mind- fuck, but who knows what our future may hold.  I love that she accepts me as I am and that she is willing to hear my truth.  The rest I continue to completely turn over to her.

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