Blog : Sissy Husband

56 posts
5/10/2024 7:36 am

Sissy Husband

I was towelling my hair when I suddenly felt metal under my small balls and on my tiny cock. There were two snaps and I felt the weight. Looking down, there it was, just like in the pictures on the internet. A stainless steel prison for my clitty.

"Wow, how did you manage that?"

"I read the instructions," she said, concentrating on doing her eyelashes.

"I love you!" I said.

"So you should."

She finished her makeup while I dried myself and shaved. (The shower softens the beard, and the face is puffed up first thing, so leaving it till after breakfast gets a smoother effect. She told me this.)

On her way out she called back "By the way no need to look for the keys. I've got both of them........... sissy boi."

I had no chance to reply, so I went for the feminine clothes.

It was painful, but wonderful, feeling my little cock fighting the cage, and losing.

"Take that, you bastard!" I said, seeing it swell a little between the bars. And instead of wrecking the image of me in my underwear, it was like jewellery, in fact a trophy!

Femininity triumphant! The small cock was no longer in charge, but my prisoner.

I put on the dress, made myself a cup of coffee and looked at TS porn around until I needed a pee.

The discomfort was worth it to sit down in a dress and peed like a gurl!

But after an hour it was really getting to me. The main part of my little cock had settled down to sullen defeat, but I was feeling really sore up near the balls. I discovered it was not so bad if I lay down on the bed, which was less fun. In another half hour, I was really willing her to come back early, so put away my clothes and lay on the bed in pink pyjamas.

Finally I heard the door sound. I was supposed to help her unload, but I didn't feel like it.

"Up here," I called plaintively, and she hurried to me.

"It hurts," I said, "get it off, please!"

She had to go downstairs to get her handbag for the keys, while I took off my pyjama bottoms.

Then she came back looking really worried, first undoing and removing the padlock, but looking closely. Then adding some baby oil, she eased it off.

"Oh, I see," she said.

"It's nothing. The weight must have been pulling on some of your hairs. You'd better shave them before next time. If there is a next time? Shall we give up sissy boi?"

I was feeling better. It hurt like having a tight small cage off, which is a sort of relief, and it was sore where the hairs had been pulled, but less so, now the tension had gone.

"I think it's best if we leave it to recover. So no nookie today love. We'll leave it till Wednesday."

I agreed.

And that night had a wet dream about myself, but she was very good about it.

Wednesday didn't really work, but again she told me not to worry, and I would have a nice feminine Saturday.

On Thursday morning we got up early, and she helped me to cut and shave my pubic hair so the skin could recover for Saturday.

On Saturday, it was surprisingly easy for her to put it on me. I just got out of the shower, she patted me dry and slipped it on. I think a lot of it was giving myself into her hands.

She looked at it and smiled.

"There, it's rather cute, and rather small. Luckily I bought the smallest size chastity cage made."

"Oh yes, I got you some thong panties, which I think will take some of the weight when you're in a dress. I'll take one key and I've put the other in an envelope which I've signed across the flap. You can obviously open in if you need to, but maybe I'll come home and know you've managed."

As soon as she had gone, I dressed in my sexy lingerie and admired my gleaming metal jewellery. There was the satisfaction of feeling my tiny cock's hopeless struggle, but knowing it was my choice and that I had overcome my silly masculinity at last.

When I began to feel the weight was a bit much, I put on the panties, which helped. With the coffee I was able to pee in a ladylike manner in both the dress and the skirt.

I felt triumphant when she got home, and the envelope was intact.

That evening we fucked and I had a great orgasm.

We (or rather she) decided not to risk failure on Wednesday. For Saturday, there was no envelope. That is, it was hidden, and she would text me where if she was delayed or I asked.

As the weeks went by, she didn't unlock me as soon as she got back, but kept increasing it till I was having lunch and part of the afternoon. It wasn't painful, more uncomfortable at times when it made its bid for freedom, but nothing I couldn't manage.

Then one Saturday when I was locked in, she kissed me.

"There's no need to change when I'm coming home. Let's see what you look like Lari."

I was so excited (mentally) that the morning dragged on.

I couldn't get shopping from the car, of course, but had to wait till she got them all in before I could appear.

I was in the dress.

"Well, not as bad as I feared. All right actually. Shall we see if you can manage till dinner?"

I kissed her, and told her I loved her, and we put away the shopping.

I could feel the cage more than ever, but it was a good feeling. At her request, I changed into the skirt and blouse. We had lunch and pattered about the house. After dinner, she asked if I was still OK, and I said I was.

"Well, I think I'm ready to see your sexy underwear, and the lacey thing, if you'd like to show me, but first I think you could use a little makeup, if you want."

Yes of course I wanted. It took quite a while, I'm a pretty gurl, but still it was feminine.

I went for a pee and came back in my underwear, and the pink lacey thing. I had really liked what I saw in the bathroom mirror, so was beaming when I came down. She took a breath, then smiled.

"I'm glad to see you so happy, darling. Why don't you take your panties off?"

I was surprised, but happy to oblige.

"There, much sexier! I wonder how it would go with pink lingerie?"

There were tears in my eyes, as I hugged and kissed her.

Then she produced a pink nightdress and I actually cried.

She unlocked me, checked me for damage, then we washed and she showed me how to remove makeup.

In a while we made love. That is, I fucked her with my 3" clitty and had a great orgasm, but thinking how much I loved her.

Then I put on the nightdress, which was lovely, and snuggled down to sleep.

Except I couldn't sleep. My clitty kept going up and down. Not far up, actually. If I had got a proper erection we could have gone again. Just enough to be annoying, but not enough to be useful.

At 2.30 I got up and put on my pink pyjamas, and was at last able to go to sleep.

In the morning I was surprised when she slipped the cage on me again, but was immediately pleased to think I could wear panties at work and pee sitting down. However, seeing me in trousers, she reckoned it showed too much, so off it came.

On Tuesday there was no cage for the day and evening, but we were going to try the night.

She reckoned I had got conditioned so I had to have the cage if I dressed feminine. However men usually have several erections a night, and of course it's awkward rolling onto it, so at four o'clock I had to beg her to unlock it. I had a pee standing and wore pyjamas for a couple more hours of sleep.

On Wednesday I was female while she visited a friend. She really had read the instructions and a lot more about getting used to the cage. Anyway, as the key holder, she was in charge. She put it on, she took it off, and in between I was privileged to be submissive and feminine. I was happy to leave it to her. I was happy full stop.

It went on like this for weeks. She bought me black equivalents of my white lingerie set, and we both appreciated it.

Whenever I didn't have to go somewhere, I spent all day caged on Saturday and Sunday and a couple of evenings a week as well, either with her or alone, as she still went out for a drink with friends. On other nights I sometimes had a drink with my buddies, though less often. It wasn't quite the same without the booze, though I did lose some weight, and diet soft drinks didn't count against my booze allowance. She hardly ever drank at home now, only when she went out.

I never managed a night's sleep with it. I lasted as long as I could, then I had to beg her to go and get the key from wherever she had hidden it.

Then one Saturday as usual I was towelling my face and hair when she slipped it on. But it didn't slip on. It took a little longer and felt different. I looked down and saw what I was feeling. It was tiny! My clitty was already compressed and complaining.

"You can't be serious!" I said. My tiny clitty was pushed in, to nothing!

"I am. Grin and bear it. The other one was too big. Now I'm going shopping, and don't try looking for a key because I've got both."

I tried to get on with my usual routine, first in my sexy underwear. My jewel was smaller but tinier. In the dress, I noticed what I didn't notice. There was no giveaway projection at the front.

The ache subsided after an hour, still there, but quite bearable. When she came home I was already in trousers and T-shirt to help her unload. She suggested we go out for lunch. I used the toilet in the café.

I was in discomfort, but thrilled.

When we got back I put on my sexy black lingerie and makeup. At her suggestion, some low-cut bikini panties covered my balls but let the cage peek over the top.

"That's not a cock," she said. "That's a clit decoration. This is a gurl!"

We kissed, and she stroked it, saying "My darling gurl."

"Now, safety check," she said in a more business-like fashion. "We'll take it off and have a look."

"Can't I wear it a bit longer?" I said, and immediately realised my mistake. I was becoming very submissive and obedient, a good little gurl for my Mistress.

She didn't have to say anything. There was nothing formal, but she was the key holder, my new Mistress, and she would decide when.

We went to the bathroom to let my clit out and wash it in warm water. When it had expanded a bit, she looked over it carefully.

"So far, so good. I read that a snug one can be better because it limits expansion early for sissy bois with tiny clitties. Despite what you think, the first was way too long for your 1.5" clitty. Several reviewers say so. Incidentally, I prefer the design of this one."

"Now you're going to stay out till after dinner, then we'll see how it goes overnight. I recommend you jack off your tiny clitty, because we're not having sex till at least next month."

I guessed she had a period. How did the discomfort of today compare with that? Women had no key-holder who could release them.

My tiny cock stretched and made itself noticed, like a cat wanting attention, but I refused. The satisfaction of not having a wank! All I wanted was my clit in a cage and to wear a dress. It eventually gave up and didn't complain when I sat down to pee.

In the afternoon she helped me to shave my chest, legs and bubble butt, as well as my face and underarms. She thought hairless and smooth all over was perfect.

After dinner, she had to cool my clit a little, before forcing it in. It was definitely shorter.

I was glad to put on a bra and dress again. I did put on pink stockings.

We watched TV, we chatted, I almost forgot I had it on. It was only when we washed for bed and I saw myself nude in the mirror. I was transfixed. That annoying cock had gone and been replaced by a tiny little clit in a silver crown. Then she rubbed body lotion on my recently shaved areas and I put on my pretty pink nightie.

Somehow I was in a really relaxed mood. I was woken up a couple of times by rolling on my clit, and again when it told me I needed to pee. But there was a special satisfaction in sitting sleepily on the toilet and feeling the relief and the femininity.

In the morning she asked me how I felt, and I said OK. So she decided not to check me but send me to work. Of course I got excited and felt the pressure, but on with some pink panties, and a critical look at me in the mirror. Then I put on my male disguise.

I actually got a bit distracted at work, both noticing the feeling between my legs, and thinking "I'm a gurl!" How nice to be sitting on the toilet at work with pretty panties.

In the evening, she didn't unlock it, but felt around and asked if I was sore. Under her instruction I cleaned under the retaining ring with a wipe, and used the shower head on cool to rinse it generally.

Makeup, of course, and a skirt and blouse. For dinner and the evening neither of us mentioned our genitals, they were just an accepted fact as we talked about the news and our days.

But I was thinking that I had managed 24 hours, and I'm sure she was as well. She didn't say anything about it as we got ready for bed. We hugged and kissed.

I woke up a couple of times, and went for a pee, so I never had a full bladder. Then work.

On the third day when I came home, she took it off, I cleaned myself while she cleaned the cage and I was locked in again. It didn't take long and I was relieved to have it back.

On Saturday I had been caged for a week and we both went shopping, dressed much as I would be for work, but still locked and with pretty panties. Firstly the groceries and then the real shopping.

There were a couple of bralets, which I could wear under my work clothes and several what they call suspender tights - essentially high waist tights, with cutouts so that the material in between the waist and the legs acts like suspenders. If you wear panties over them, you don't have to take them off to use the toilet, unlike ordinary tights. This meant that I could feel as if I was wearing a bra, suspenders and stockings at work!
In one shop she chose a wig, and tried to joke how I would look in it, so I put it on. I suspect they weren't fooled. So far as the range was concerned, it was a cheap wig, but not a cheap object. The same applied to a pair of shoes with two-inch heels. A bit of a pantomime of me pretending to be interested in men's shoes, getting some women's shoes that looked about the same size around her, and surreptitiously slipping a foot in while she asked about something else.

Coming home, I showered and then tried out our purchases. We ordered a pizza, and she made me stand behind her when she answered the door.

At last I had been seen!

Before going to bed the cage was taken off for washing and cleaning. I was afraid she was going to leave me unlocked, but it was back on for the night.

I wore the wig all Sunday.

Then it was another week.

And another.

It seemed I could wear it for ever. But she couldn't persuade me to go outside, even with the wig and makeup.

Then a year or so later I met someone who could.

"I think you realise that you're no longer the boy that I married," she said with a smile.

"And actually our sex life hasn't been much these last few years, but I didn't complain, just took what you could give me. I didn't know what would happen when you started to wear a dress, and I certainly didn't think I would be locking a cage on your tiny clitty."

"However, I read that it makes many men more loving in other ways, oral sex for example. That didn't seem to occur to you..."

"Oh, but I would, I will!" I cut in, shocked and ashamed.

"No it's all right. You're just not one of those men. You've become more feminine and we're both straight, so nothing is expected."

"But..." I said, as I guessed what this meant.

"So, I've found a substitute for that purpose. I'm not leaving you. I love you and we'll stay together, but I have some needs as well, and I think you should meet him. He's coming round for dinner at eight, so make yourself pretty, as a gurl."

I was nervous, but what can you do?

His name was Desmond, and he was a very ordinary black man, probably ten years younger than us, from New Orleans. I was nervous, but he was not. The conversation was totally politically incorrect.

"My husband's got his wish," she explained. "Now I've got mine. I've always wanted to try some big black cock."

"That's me," he said, "your friendly neighbourhood stud! I hope you weren't disappointed!"

"Not at all," she said, patting his huge cock.

"Well, I must say, you've turned out well," he said.

"Now what do I call you?"

That stunned both of us. There had been no need for a name.

"I- I don't know, I haven't decided."

"Well you look like a Shirley to me. Will that do?"

That's how I got my name.

"Might be interesting with a tranny," he said, suddenly. "Maybe I can fuck both of you!"

"She's not a transexual, not yet, not yet anyway," my wife corrected him.

"But transvestite - is that the word?" he asked.

"Yes, I guess I am," I said.

He was smart and smooth in a very pleasant way over the next couple of hours. He had been married, but was divorced, and showed us pictures of his . This was the first relationship since they broke up.

At about half-past ten he stood up and said "Would you excuse us for a while, Shirley?" And led my beautiful wife up to bed.

I felt strangely elated as I heard the bed banging.

There was no need to worry about her. I had been an inadequate husband, and would probably be an inadequate woman, but now she didn't need my clitty and I was no longer guilty for taking away what little sexual satisfaction I had given her.

Desmond was very nice, but I was sure he would not be her soulmate.

Was it racist to be pleased that he was black? Probably, but she seemed to enjoy the idea, and he wasn't losing anything.

A while later, he came down, kissed me on the cheek, and left.

I went upstairs where she was dabbing with tissues at a wet patch on the bed, naked apart from a dressing gown.

"I'll take the spare bed," I said.

She nodded and looked questioningly at me.

"He's really very nice, and I'm glad for you," I said, and took her into my arms as she rained kisses on my face.

"Oh thank God!" she said.

We sat on the bed and talked. Helping me had been a huge effort, and she had been sexually frustrated for a long time. Again I felt guilty for not recognising the enforced cheerfulness and dominance, while wondering how it would end for me.

We changed the bedsheet, both of us got into our nighties, and she led me back to our bed. The bed where she had been fucked by her sissy husband long ago, and by another real man last night.

I suppose it was no wonder there was a wet patch on my side of the bed in the morning.

Desmond was a professor, and lived in a home there for security, so he couldn't move in with us. And she wouldn't move in with him because of me, so they visited each other, and she stayed overnight with him on Fridays or when the were away.

She admitted he was a better lover than I had ever been, giving her lots of orgasms with his huge cock, hands and mouth, as well as fucking her often. I was only pleased if I heard her, and had happy thoughts of what was happening when she went to him.

They would also have a drink or meal together beforehand, and I liked to help her buy new underwear and to choose the sexy outfit beforehand.

I slept in the other bedroom when he stayed the night, of course, but otherwise I still slept with my wife.

It was a month later when she spoke to me seriously.

"Look, Shirley darling, you haven't got your juices out for a month, and you do need it. I think you need to be fucked and have an orgasm at least once a week. Shall we get Desmond to do it?"

She probably thought this would confirm me as a woman and I would be happy, but my terror at the idea convinced her otherwise.

"There, there. Calm down. I'll do it, will that be better?"

"Yes, if it has to be done, it should be you."

I imagined it was going to be with a strapon. I didn't fancy the idea, but I would let her.

It turned out to be more gentle.

It was a special vibrator (a prostate stimulator) she slipped into my boi pussy. It took a while for her to get the technique, but when she had, it was better than any orgasm I had ever had, and she cried with happiness because I had an analgasm.

She fucked me every weekend for a while, then decided it would be less trouble to clear up if I was without the cage, so did it every time we took it off for cleaning. My clit expanded during this, of course, which she thought was better for the organ, but it was nothing like a stiff cock. It soon went down enough to cage me again.

I think this regular activity relaxed me enough for Desmond to persuade me to start going outside with them. It was usually after I had been fucked, and was safely locked away that we went out for a meal, and eventually shopping.

He was the one who paid for my first proper high heels.

He was the first outsider to see me in my thong panties with my clit decoration on display.

"Very sexy," he said, and patted his bulge to show he wasn't kidding. We were both very pleased with the compliment. He gets shown any new underwear now, before going to fuck my wife. That's as far as it's going to go, but it's nice to have a man's appreciation.

And he was the one who went to see HR at my company and explained he had a friend who worked there who would like to present as a woman. And he was the one who accompanied me for my first interview about it (I was in my man clothes). There were photographs of me as Shirley, out in the world to show them it was nothing outrageous.

They got the wrong idea, of course, and couldn't ask about relationships. All I said was a friend, and there was no mention of my clit cage. It was just that I dressed as a woman, and would prefer to be called Shirley.

On my first day in, everyone was on eggshells, but by the end of the week, they realised I was much the same, except a bit happier.

In the second week, I was asked to come out for a drink with the guys, and actually had a small one, though I'm determined not to make it more than that.

I think I am pretty well settled. They wanted me to have a key, but it's part of my ritual that my wife decides when I'm going to be locked and unlocked. The fact that it is impossible for me to get erect and I cannot use a urinal gives me a great sense of security. Master Desmond has the other key.

I told my doctor, and she was glad to be informed, and inspected me thoroughly, including feeling up my boi pussy, of course. She was particularly glad for the sake of my prostate that it was being emptied regularly.

I got some leaflets on gender confirmation, but I really don't want to lose my clit decoration, and don't think I need any more or different sex than I get from my wife. I'm getting some tablets which certainly help how I feel, and haven't changed the orgasms. In a few years I might have some breasts and if not we'll consider implants, which all three of us think would be good.

I was caged 24/7, for practical purposes a gurl. She encouraged me to make sounds when she fucked me, like a slutty gurl. The pleasure was longer than a man's and soon I was moaning and groaning and making little cries like her, which made it even better.

I protested I shouldn't do it when Desmond is around.

"You should do it especially when Desmond's around," she said with a laugh, so I relaxed and just expressed myself.

Then it stopped.

There was a cleaning session, and she put the cage back on. When I asked, she just shrugged.

And the same with the next session: nothing. She went upstairs, I heard their sounds and later they came down obviously well satisfied.

Though I wished her every possible ecstasy, instinctively I was jealous. And my clit having had some regular outdoor exercise was stronger, and able to make its feelings felt. It was a delicious contradictory feeling, a bit like when I started, feeling desire and repression.

So now things are uncertain for me. She is the one who decides if it's twice a week or once a month....... or longer. The denial of orgasm is a sort of pleasure in itself. The tension means I feel more sexual generally, and relish my jealous feelings and physical response when I hear my wife's obvious enjoyment when our new Master is fucking her, or even when I just imagine what she is doing. And the orgasms are more precious, perhaps even better.

Most of all, what she has done is to emasculate me, to let me be the sexy gurl I want to be. I'm no longer a boi. The greatest gift of all is her love.

I feel so feminine and I don't think sex could be any better for me.

Sometimes she comes home or downstairs after a session with Desmond and says "Oh I do love black cock, especially swallowing yummy cum from my new Master!"

It's said like a joke, of course, but I'm sure it's more than that. I'm so happy she got her fantasy as I got mine.

cum711 63M

1 post
5/10/2024 7:43 am

love the story. read it several times. love to message with you and share experiences and pictures please friend me and hot list me or what ever is necessary so that we can message each other

slaveforyou365 63M

4528 posts
5/10/2024 10:21 am

Love the story makes my chastity penis swell with in the cage for i have been locked 24/7 of and on for over 7 years

Slave rick

tiusup 67M/67F

523 posts
5/11/2024 5:40 am

What a good slut


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