Suddenly Suzette (Chapters 1-3) by Throne (Patreon)

Suddenly 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."