Sissy Life Pt. 02

I scurried to the bathroom, tears streaking my face. I was dripping cum on the bedroom floor as I went, but I didn't stop. I just wanted to get out of the room. I couldn't believe how badly things had gone! 20 minutes ago I was stood in my May babydoll, black stockings & red heels set for some intimate time with my wife, my Mistress, but now? Now things were awful! Now I faced 300 days in chastity. And I was tasked with finding my Mistress a man - a REAL man - online to satisfy her sexually where I had failed so miserably.

Worst of all I faced the threat of being whipped by my Mistress' lover for failing her so badly. That didn't even bare thinking about. I hadn't even met Rob and now, when he got back from his business trip, I faced him whipping me! I was really worried about being exposed. I mean, how I would be dressed? No-one except my Mistress had seen me in my sissy clothes. Is he going to see me in my pink French Maid's uniform? Is that why she bought it? Is that what she meant by that uniform being for 'guests'? I thought it was an idle threat!

I tried to calm down. Perhaps, perhaps if I continued to be the perfect sissy, like I had for two weeks before tonight, perhaps she wouldn't ask Rob to whip me. I took some deep breaths. Yes, if I performed well, this could be put right.

I cleaned myself up and put my uniform back on. Black 4-inch heels, white stockings, a white garter belt and my classic-look black & white French Maid's uniform. Completed with a matching hat and apron I headed back into the bedroom.

'Permission to speak Mistress'.

My Mistress looked at me for a moment. I could see she was angry, but she relented. 'Granted'.

I curtseyed deeply and began; 'Mistress, I would like to apologise for my failure to please you. I forgot my place. I forgot Sissy Rule 1. Sissy Rule 1 states, I must endeavour to think & act in accordance with my position. I am a sissy. I am not a man. I am not a woman; I am a sissy. I forgot this and I tried to act like a man and I failed. Please forgive me Mistress.' I curtseyed again.

'I am very, very disappointed in you. However, I sense you want to make it up to me so we'll move on. Clean your mess up and meet me in my study with your camera.' I felt I had got off lightly and not wanting to change that, I got down on my hands and knees to clean up my cum with my tongue. It was, frankly, disgusting!

Having collected my camera, I knocked on the study door. 'Enter'. I went in, stood on my sissy spot and curtseyed. Mistress had changed. She was wearing a tight, short black chemise. She had black hold-ups on and, for effect, she had on 6 inch heels that were bright white. I loved her in heels and I was totally drawn to them. I couldn't look away. She looked amazing! I felt stupid for ever thinking a sissy like me could look sexy. Real women are sexy! Sissies are pathetic.

'We're going to set up my FetLife account. That's right, your old haunting ground! You're going to be my photographer. And my bio writer! And you're going to pick my matches. Before bed tonight, you'll identify 5 matches for me. You'll write up 250 words on each of the men you pick detailing why they are better than you, and worthy of me. I'll review your write-ups in the morning. Now, take some photos for my profile'.

For the next 20 minutes my Mistress posed and I took photos. She asked my view on which poses looked sexier, the best angles to show off her legs, her ass, her breasts. She was teasing me & she was enjoying it. When she felt we had enough shots she told me to draft her bio. She said I could write what I wanted, but it had to attract men, real men and it should reference me - she wanted it clearly stating that she had a sissy husband and he could be as involved or not at these men wanted. She unlocked my uniform before heading to bed.

It took me an age for me to write something I was even vaguely comfortable with. Offering my wife was one thing, including myself was quite another! In the end I simply added, 'Please note I do have a sissified husband. He can be involved - or not - as you please'. I hoped to God none of the men interested in my wife were interested in me!

I spent the next 3 hours working on possible, suitable matches. I found 5 men in no time, but writing those 250 words on each of them was really hard. I settled on a pretty standard paragraph on why they were better than me; they were 'real' men, unlike me their interest was in pleasing a woman, not what the woman was wearing. They had big cocks (no doubt) and knew how to use them - again, unlike me. Then, I described how they looked. What made them attractive. I printed out my work and left it on the desk as agreed and headed to bed.

In the morning, I undertook the same routine I have since this 'nonsense' as my Mistress calls it started. The alarm goes off at 6am, I shower, I pick out underwear, add stockings and heels and head downstairs to make my Mistress' breakfast. I load up my silver - yes, silver! - serving tray once ready and head to my Mistress' room. I knock, wait for permission to enter then head in and set the tray down on the dresser. This morning was slightly different. My Mistress was awake and had clearly been out of bed before I came in. I knew because she was reading my work from last night.

'Goodness me! You have quite the eye don't you? I always wondered if you were bi. Reading these reports I could be convinced you are flat out gay! Don't pout darling. It's not becoming.' Her voice took on a stern tone. 'I was sure I saw you looking at men sometimes. You looked at them different from women mind. More longingly. Wistful even! Plenty of time for gawping now with your magazine subscriptions of course! What you'd give to be able to masturbate to those eh?' My wife had taken to our situation with gusto initially. One of the things she was most proud of was signing me up to a variety of gay magazines. A 'naughty little hobby for a naughty little sissy' she'd said. 'Well? Would you like to be released on occasion to masturbate to your magazines?'

I wasn't sure! I wanted to be released certainly, but not do to that. I didn't think. 'Um...yes Mistress. Yes please. Thank you.' It felt like the correct answer. I did an odd sort of curtsey to finish my response. You really need a skirt to hold to curtsey effectively I realised.

'Well, if you behave after you have served your 300 days, perhaps that can be arranged. You know, I wondered all sorts when I discovered your little 'fetish' you know. That's the word you use isn't it? Fetish? As if it's some harmless foible.' She looked disapprovingly.

'Yes Mistress.' Another odd curtsey from me.

'I bet it doesn't feel so harmless now hmm? Don't pout darling! I have told you once already. I'll teach you not to pout with the whip if I have to!' She calmed. 'I'm just teasing. You have good taste is all. You've chosen some very strapping young men. I would welcome any of those men into my bed! And that's the plan for today. I want a date setting up quickly. I miss what Rob gives me; I miss being fucked. You know what's it like being fucked. It feels so good!' That isn't how I felt at all. Whenever my Mistress took me with a strap-on, her 'cock', I felt violated. And unsatisfied.

'Don't look like that. This could have all been avoided. You had your chance yesterday to be the man of the house. You blew it! Come here; let's get your uniform on'. My uniform - my classic French Maid's uniform anyway - hangs on the back of my Mistress' door. I took it down, stepped into it and walked to the side of the bed. I knelt down and my Mistress took a lock from her bedside table and locked the collar.

'Now, I've decided on Tony. We can discuss your favourite later! I suspect it's Mike from your description of him! Let's see if we can rouse my first choice. Follow me to the study. I'll skip breakfast; I'm too excited to eat!' On the way Mistress explained the plan; she was going to send him a message, then if he replied she'd Skype him. She'd see how things went from there.

Tony - of course - replied to her message almost immediately. So she proceeded to Skype him. I did exactly what was expected of me; I stood on my sissy spot and awaited further instruction. It was clear they were getting on. There was plenty of flirting & giggling. They tossed around a few date ideas. It seemed going out for a meal was the consensus. Until Tony had enquired after me...

'Your profile mentions a 'sissified' husband. What's that about? I mean, I'm not overly familiar with this scene.'

'Well Tony, I discovered a few months ago that my husband enjoys wearing women's clothing. He doesn't want to be a woman you understand, he just finds wearing women's clothes...sexually exciting. He tells me he's not gay, but I'm not so sure. I mean, one wears lacy panties to attract men don't they? I know I do!'

'He wears panties?!'

'And much more! He gets his kicks wearing heels, stockings, that sort of thing. Or he did. I think he enjoys it a bit less now it's permanent. And he certainly doesn't enjoy wearing his chastity device!'

'A what?'

'A chastity device. It's a steel cage that prevents him from cumming, prevents him from having erections even. It keeps him...attentive, eager to please.

As you can imagine, not only were his desires a shock for me when discovered, but also a complete turn-off. So, I did some research. Apparently it's a quite common thing. And one approach - for want of a better word - is to embrace it. To play along essentially and 'sissify' your husband. That's what I have done. He wears his chastity device and women's clothes 24/7 and he serves me. He's in the room with me now - wearing a French Maid's uniform of all things! It's quite pathetic. Why do I put up with it? The trade for me is he does all the housework. He's little more than a servant at home. But one that amuses me. And he still works, he pays the bills.'

'Wow! That's crazy! He does all the chores?'

'He does. He cleans, he washes, he irons. He cooks. He's quite talented in the kitchen to be fair. He's improved massively now he doesn't see his friends anymore. When he's not at work, he's working on being the best sissy husband he can be. Being sissified has been the making of him really.' I squirmed on the spot; it was hard to hear the tone my Mistress used. I had assumed we'd entered into this arrangement together, but the more she spoke the more I realised I had little to do with where we are now.

'I have an idea. Let's not go out for dinner; let's have your sissy husband cook for us. He can serve us too! He can play the maid! I'm dead curious to see him in action. How about tomorrow night?'

'Oh Tony, that's a wonderful idea! He'd love to. Sissy, come here and thank Tony for his suggestion. Don't forget to curtsey by way of introduction.' Oh God. This was my worst nightmare! I moved towards the laptop & curtseyed, 'Thank you Master Tony for such a wonderful suggestion. It would be an honour.'

'He means that you know. He does consider serving his superiors an honour. He picked you out for me actually Tony. I think he might have a little crush on you!'

'Ha! Until tomorrow then!'