Paradigm free porn video

I was surprised when I saw the image, but drawn to it. I was on Tumblr scanning sites using the search term 'pantyhose'. I was a secret crossdresser fan and loved to see pretty and sexy images of girls wearing the things I couldn't. It was a fairly harmless way to express and relieve my desires for such things. I had just started using Tumblr, so, I was scrolling down, looking at any site tagged with pantyhose when I saw the image. It was a torso view, from chest to knee, wearing matching bra, panty, garter belt, and stockings. Very beautiful. But the panty held a small, flaccid cock. The caption was, 'If a penis looks good in panties, then it belongs in them'. I immediately began to get hard. The way the image portrayed the sissified penis seemed so matter of fact, but erotic too. I was interested enough to click the Tumblr handle, 'black paradigm' to go to the page. The Tumblr page was full of similar images of men in lingerie and similar captions, but it also had quite a few more images that were different in focus. There were more explicit images of white men, as sissified men. There were more images of white men in chastity, usually cross-dressed too. There were images of black men and white women, usually in sexual situations. The black men were all well-endowed. There were images of white men submitting to black men. The site was obviously one design to promote black and white relationships, more specifically a change in how such relationships are structured. On this site, men meant black males, women meant white females, and sissy meant white males. Although this concept was not totally new to me, its presentation was much more cognitive and impactful. I found myself looking at every image on the page, reading or at least skimming all the text, and becoming very aroused as I did so. The owner of this site had done a tremendous job of making the idea of black males as superiors a very believable concept. It was easy to follow the logic that they were sexual superior, easily evident by their muscular bodies, greater athletic skills, creative talents, and most of all their larger, more powerful cocks. Therefore, black men deserved to be the preferred choice for white women. Given their sexual shortcomings, so to speak, white males should eagerly embrace sissy-hood. I was amazed by the reverse logic the site employed or more accurately, reverse racism. If the tables were turned and a site championed white males as superior, as the only real males, the feedback would be harsh. But because this proposition flew in the face of established norms and frankly our history, it struck a chord. It was like a rallying cry, a shout to consider what might be real instead of what is now accepted by society. Of course, it benefitted from the stereotype that black men, all black men were more endowed than white men. Intrinsically, I knew that wasn't totally accurate and a simplification, but it added to the erotic vibe the site was promoting. I couldn't help but take out my cock and stroke it. That only reinforced the ideas of the site. My hand nearly hid my cock entirely as I played with it. Even hard, my glans barely poked out above my thumb. On the site, a white hand usually only covered a third, at best, of a black man's cock. My response also seemed to fit with the concepts of the page. After a few rapid strokes, I came, shooting cum all over my hand. I was a perfect example of why white males weren't as good as black males at making love. I was small and came quickly. Somehow, the fact that I fit the profile for white males, made me like the site even more. As I said, I was new to Tumblr but decided right away to follow this site, my first one. I didn't realize it when I clicked follow that their posts would show up on my dashboard. But I liked it. After I came a second time, quickly of course, I began to look at other pages similar to Paradigm. I was amazed at how widespread his ideas were, although he still presented the best. This was a whole new area for me, and it felt so forbidden and hot, I knew I would look at all options for these ideas. But that would have to come later, as I had chores to do before I met my wife for dinner. Yes, I am married, but not with children. I met Amy in a class at college, where I got a two-year associates degree while she finished a four-year accounting degree. At first we were just friends, but over time, we got closer. I finally got the nerve to ask her out and we went on a few dates. I was about ready to give up, as we had only kissed a few times and I couldn't seem to find a way to make the next move. I knew she had dated more than me, as I was kind of shy. Finally, I just ask if she wanted to come to my place, for dinner. I made an elegant five-course dinner and she loved it. I guess no man had ever shown her that side of himself. After that, we just clicked. We dated for two years, but kept sex simple, as she wanted to save intercourse for marriage. So, she would give me hand jobs, quick and easy, with me in a condom. Finally, I asked her to marry me and she said yes. It was a nice ceremony. The honeymoon was a little disappointing. We finally had sex, but I wasn't too good at it. Amy was understanding and suggested I learn how to please her with my mouth. After some training from her, I was able to give her orgasms that way, but did it infrequently as I harbored some embarrassment about having to please her with my mouth. Like a lot of young couples, we rented at first, as I had school loans and we both had started jobs at entry level salaries. But we scrimped and made a big effort to save cash. When we had enough saved, we finally bought a small house. Luckily for us, Amy had gotten a nice bump in pay after her probation period on her job. My job was a low- level clerk, a positon mostly filled with women. But it was okay, as I wasn't big or strong enough to do the mostly male jobs like in the warehouse or driving big trucks. I could tell that Amy was going to be much more successful, so I tried to compensate by doing more around the house. I had taken home-economics in high school (shop class was full, so it was my only option), and my mom had helped me learn to sew, cook, and do household chores like laundry. Amy seemed to enjoy having me do little domestic things for her, so I made sure to do them whenever I could. Of course I did all the cooking. Overall we were happy and after five years we had settled into a nice routine life. We went out occasionally, but not as much as when we dated. I figured that was part of married life. Amy focused on decorating our house, and I helped by sewing things, like curtains and bed shams. We were very close, cuddling most whenever we watched TV movies, but I was never quite sure if she was satisfied with our sex. After we married, I only ate her as part of foreplay and we only fucked once every couple of weeks. Growing up, I had found I got a thrill from women's lingerie and tried them on a few times. I didn't have access to a lot of things, so mostly it was a mental thing for me. A way to get in touch with feminine things that was easier than being brave enough to talk to girls. I funneled my extra sex drive into masturbating while looking at online porn. I never told Amy about any of this, so after we married I secretly looked at such things online. Because of our size differences, Amy was a petite 5'2" and I was bigger, slightly, at 5'8", her things were too small for me. So I stayed with online thrills. That's why I had gotten on Tumblr which led to finding this unusual site. I thought it would be like all the others, I would see what was new and keep surfing. But when I logged on this time, I saw I had a message in my Tumblr inbox. I hesitantly opened it, figuring it would be spam or some sort of product sales pitch. But it was from the owner of Black Paradigm. It was short but welcoming. "Hello, I'm Charles and thanks for checking out my page. I try my best to keep it interesting and new. To better serve my viewers, I like to get a feel for what they are interested in and would like to see. So, if you are willing to help, please take this short survey. It's hosted by a reputable survey site, and they send me the results which are totally private. I won't use it to spam you, or pass on your response to others. I hope you'll like the interaction and how the site will reflect your situation." There was an embedded link in the message. I was worried it might be some sort of phishing scam, so I typed the address in my security software. It turned out to be what he said it was, a well-known survey company. This was new to me, so I figured what the heck. When I opened it, the survey started by asking my Tumblr name as an identifier, then it opened to questions. The first one asked if I was a man, woman, or sissy. I felt a rush of excitement as I clicked sissy. The next page flipped up and showed that question, with several more below. It had automatically entered white as my race, but had two more questions, one for age range, and one for marital status. I filled these in, and worked my way through the survey. Each question asked more about me and my desires. It was sort of refreshing to put it down in black and white, pun intended. It seemed like the survey was leading me in a certain direction based on my answers. When I answered a question about wearing women's panties, it asked more about that. Did I wear them every day? What kinds did I like? Did my wife buy them or did I? Based on my negative responses, basically saying I just looked at them and fantasized about wearing them, the survey followed up with questions on my marriage and whether I thought my wife would like me in panties. It also asked about our sexual experiences and our relationships with black people. It ended with questions on dominance, submission, and humiliation. Many of these were things I hadn't really thought about, but when I was done, I had to jerk off. It was very exciting in a totally new way. I also was interested in looking at Charles's page in the next few days, to see if any of my input would be noticeable. But what I got was even more surprising, another Tumblr message. "Thanks for taking the survey. You had some real, real interesting answers. I found it very helpful. Just two more things. One you didn't attach a photo, as requested, for the last question. I know it can be difficult to be so open, especially for new followers like you. But you need to do as I ask. Relax, it's easy for you. I've found the best picture for sissies is one of their cock. You can tell so much from just a simple, anonymous photo like that. You can open the link again, and your survey will return to the place to add your photo. Second, what drew you to my page, any specific image, or comment? Thanks again, glad you're part of our group, Charles." He was right, I had flinched at adding a photo. Way too personal, as I couldn't put my face out there like that. But a cock photo? Maybe. I had oscillated between thinking I had an average size cock and a small dick. I had actually taken a photo, in side view of my soft cock, when I was having those doubts. It would probably do. So I found it, and making sure nothing identified it as me, added it to the survey. Then I added a few lines describing the images that caught my eye the most. One was the 'penis in panties' photo, and the other was photo of a very small G-string type panty that completely covered a small cock. Its caption 'Re-blog if you won't stop until you reach this level of feminization' was thrilling too. I had to admit, taking these next steps was exciting, and I found myself jerking off as soon as I finished. The next few days were too busy to do online porn, but I checked my Tumblr page as soon as I could. I was very excited to see a new message. It was quite blunt, causing me to blush when I read it, but I got excited too. "Nice photo. Glad to see you have a perfect sissy penis, really quite small. Have you always been this tiny or are you on hormones? I'm sure you've seen my sections on using HRT to properly finish a white boy for their new sissy role for blacks. If you haven't, be sure to read my page. In fact, there's a test at the bottom of my page. I like to know that my sissies are thoroughly familiar with what is expected of them. I do like your photo choices, both are favorites of mine. Here are links to the sites that sell those types of panties. I'd like you to buy a pair of each style. I'd love to see your tiny penis in them. Also, you really need to shave. A sissy like you should have a smooth hairless dick and ball sack. Be sure to shave your sissy cunt too. Let me know when you've got photos of these." This email blindsided me. My face was red hot as I read it. I couldn't believe he thought I might be on female hormones. I wasn't that small was I? It had to be for effect. Also, he wanted me to get some panties and shave myself? That was so radical. Could I do it? I immediately checked out his links. I found both panties quickly and my desire to try them skyrocketed. I didn't have any female things of my own since I married Amy, but now the old urges were becoming very strong. I knew I got home before she did, so I could buy these and have them shipped to the house. I also knew my panty size. So acting impulsively, I bought each pair. The panty I first noticed was pink, sheer lace, with a couple of side strings to a rear thong. The second pair was only a tiny black triangle with embroidered flowers. I had to jerk off after placing the orders. The next part of his request would be more difficult. I knew Amy really didn't see me naked, as we were both fairly private about our bodies. Also, we always made love at night, so she wouldn't see it then. I wasn't sure, if she could feel it, if I shaved. So, I had to really think about this part. The problem for me was I really wanted to please Charles. Something about his tone and demeanor made me want to follow the fantasy on his site. Although he hadn't said anything about himself, I assumed he was black. My role playing a submissive, beta male to his dominating, alpha male presence seemed a real exciting way to expand my masturbation fantasies. But I wasn't sure about going as far as changing my physical appearance for this excitement. I held off. When the packages came on Tuesday with my new panties, I could hardly contain myself. I had to try them on right away. I put on the pink one first. Looking at my image in the mirror, I saw it was close to what was on Charles's page. But my pubic hair was very visible. I them pulled on the small G-string panty. I pushed my balls inside of me and collapsed my penis into itself, as I pulled the small triangle in place. The panty had adjustable sides so you could tighten the fit. When I was done, I was stunned by my image. It was as if my cock was gone. Even as I got excited and it tried to get hard, the tiny piece of fabric held it in place. But again, my pubes ruined the image. I decided right then to shave myself. I had to match the look of Charles's photos. I hid the panties and got dressed, as Amy would be home soon. I knew Thursday night would be the best time to do it, as her accounting section always had a group meeting that day, which meant she came home at least an hour later than usual. That would give me plenty of time. I hurried out of the office on Thursday, my plans finalized. I had looked at all options for making myself smooth down there. Waxing would of course be best, but I couldn't bring myself to go to a salon for that. Depilatories were an option, but not for sensitive skin like my scrotum. Shaving was the only choice. First, I was going to use a hair trimmer. Amy had gotten me one for Christmas one year. She wanted to see how I would look with the trendy, short beard-non-shaved look that celebrities featured. But my beard was too patchy and it just looked ragged. I figured I could use it to trim my hair real short and then using a fresh blade carefully shave myself. I got home and started right away. I had looked at lots of photos and decided a real narrow landing strip above my penis would look good. Everything else I would shave smooth. Using the trimmer went easily and quickly. I then used lots of shaving lotion and slowly removed the hair. First shaping the patch of pubic hair above my cock into the feminine design. Next, the hairs on the base of my cock. Then the hairs between my cheeks. The last part was shaving my ball sack and the area immediately behind it and around my anus. I had to stretch it out and go real, real slow. But I was able to take it all off without one nick or cut. I rinsed it all off and put on some lotion. I loved how it looked now. Very feminine. I took several shots of my new look, showing my small size off to perfection, as the cool air and lack of any insulating hair made it seem to shrink even more. The tiny landing strip was the perfect finishing touch. Once I had those photos, I put the pink panty. Again, perfect. I took a dozen or so, to be sure I got some nice ones. The final G-string was stunning. I totally looked like a girl down there. Only a slight bulge under the fabric, like a girl's mons, but flat everywhere else. Again I was surprised at how easily the panty, pulled tight on the sides, kept my penis in check. I uploaded my photos to my laptop, and picked the best ones for each look. I went to Tumblr and sent Charles a message. I wanted him to give me his email so I could send him the photos. Sitting there, still in my G-string, typing the message made me super horny. I loved it. I reluctantly removed my panty and hid them both again. It felt so different and sexually charged to be smooth down there, even in my boxers. When Amy came home, she was excited to be off work. So I made us a couple of drinks after we ate a light dinner. I was feeling super horny, so after our third cocktail, I started kissing her. That led to more and I suggested we go upstairs. We both got undressed and I spread her legs to start licking her. I was so horny, I just licked her a little before moving up to put my cock in her pussy. It was heaven, but I was so excited I didn't last long. She was still grinding against me for a few minutes after I came, but my cock wilted and fell out of her. I sensed she was disappointed, but we snuggled as usual. That night was filled with dreams and I woke with a start. It was hard to make it through the day, as my thoughts kept coming back to how Charles would like my new photos. I couldn't wait to log on to send them to him. I got home about 30 minutes before Amy. I immediately logged on and went to Tumblr. There was a message for me from Charles. I excitedly opened it. "Sissy I'm glad you followed my suggestions. It's a good sign that you're realizing your true place in life. But I don't give out my email to silly little white boys. One of the reasons I set up my Tumblr page was so that my followers could show the world what they really are. Now it's your turn. As one of my followers you can post things to my page. So just put your photos of your tiny cock, in its pretty panties on there for all to see. As you know, if your penis looks good in panties it belongs in them." My face flushed. I couldn't believe he wanted me to put my personal photos on his page. That meant anyone who went there would see me. My small cock, smooth and hairless, with a decorative feminine landing strip. My little penis wrapped in pink lace. Or my feminine bump, held in place by a flimsy triangle of satin, looking not like a male but a girl. My heart was racing, this was not what I had expected at all. But I desperately wanted to show Charles the pictures. Since, he wouldn't allow me any other options, I took a deep breath. After checking to be sure there were not identifiable text or links on them, I posted three photos to his Tumblr page. One of me nude, one in pink, and one hidden away. I then signed off and started supper. I was hoping maybe Amy would want sex again tonight. I hadn't been this sexually charged since we started dating. Just the thought of what I had just done, made me want to fuck her silly. When she came in, I gave her a drink and we ate dinner. Afterwards, I asked if she wanted another drink, sort of implying we do as we did last night. But she shot me down, she wanted to take it easy, and suggested we snuggle and watch a nice movie. I went along, as I knew we never had sex unless we both wanted it. Later that night, after she went to bed, I logged onto the black paradigm Tumblr page. At the top, my three photos were featured. Seeing them and knowing it was me was both exciting and humiliating. What struck me, was the note Charles had added. "New sissy proudly showing off her commitment to her proper lifestyle." There was also a private message from Charles, which I opened and read. "Sissy, very, very nice. I knew you had real potential from your first photo, but these are stunning. I've never seen such a tiny cock so properly packaged before. I think the one in your black G-string is the best photo ever posted on my page. It's like you were born to be a sissy. Now we have to build on this first step and continue your journey. I'd like you to start wearing panties every day. That little bit of yours needs to be firmly snuggled in lace or satin. Since you're probably too embarrassed to buy them in person, use the links I gave you before. Buy seven more, in different styles, colors, and trims, as long as their feminine-looking they'll be fine. After you get them, I want you to wear one each day. Take a photo as you go, posting it to my page. When I've seen that level of commitment from you, we can talk in more detail about your journey." Reading this I was both ashamed and proud, the conflicting emotions ramping up my desires. I wasted no time and went to the site where I bought the pink panties. Soon, seven more were on their way to me. I also looked at his page again. This time I noticed how many people had commented on my photos and several had even re-blogged my images. There was no holding back now, as I was being spread around similar type sites. I had a difficult time sleeping that night, and until I got the package of panties in the mail I was always on edge. It didn't help that Amy had generally repulsed my advances for sex. I guess our last attempt had left her more disappointed than I thought. When I saw the package in the mailbox, I was thrilled. I had followed Charles's suggestion, and each panty was a different color and style. All had either lace or a bow. I hurriedly tried them all on to be sure they fit and then put them away. Over the next week, I wore each one. I wanted to show Charles I was wearing panties as my daily underwear, so my photos were staged so that my male clothes were also in the shot. Yellow lace hipster under light colored jeans, white satin thong with khaki pants, or black bikini under my black dress slacks; I posted a new photo every day, until I had worn them all. I was getting lots of comments and re-posts, but nothing from Charles. The absence of interaction with him worried me. I needed his input and support. Finally, after the last post of the week, I had a short message from him. He was pleased by my obedience to his request and thought it was time to up my commitment. I was to be online on Wednesday night at 9 PM so we could have an extended real-time discussion of where we wanted to go from here. This was even better than I had hoped for, somehow getting to chat with him was almost like meeting him in person. I had thought a lot about him, what he might look like, what his personality would be, and how far I would go with this fantasy. So far, his requests had been right at the edge of acceptable for me. A little scary, but so exciting that the fear was manageable. I had a feeling that this talk might be the end of this, or a big step forward. I just hoped we could figure out an acceptable arrangement that would allow this to continue, but not get out of hand. I knew that the ideas on his page were an exciting fantasy, but not something that could be part of my real life. But I wasn't quite ready to walk away. I wanted a bit more if I could. Over the next few days, I tried to please Amy as much as I could. I stepped up to do more, almost all, of the household chores. Laundry was a must, as I had to clean my panties. I also thought if I showed her I was willing to relieve her of her chores, it might compensate a little for my selfish and poor attempt at lovemaking the other night. The interactions with Charles and his page, were making me hornier and hornier, so much that I craved more than masturbation. I wanted to feel her hot, wet pussy so bad. But despite doing more housework, cooking her favorite meals, and bringing her an after work cocktail, she limited our passion to extended kissing sessions at most. That made it even worse for me. So by the time I was to talk with Charles, my lust was at a peak. When I logged on and went to his page, I saw the indicator at the top showing he was online. I had thought about how I might let him know I was here and decided to post another panty photo. This one was a front shot of a light blue thong that I had only shown a rear view of before. The panty looked like a butterfly in the front, with its wings connected to the side strings. I even added a caption, the first time I had been so brave. 'Sissy ready to spread her wings'. I hoped it wasn't too much. But I soon saw a message show up in my inbox. "Very sweet Sissy, I like your attitude. I agree it is time you venture farther into your true identity. Normally, I prefer to use a term like sissy to address average followers on my page. But you are average no longer, having shown a real willingness to do as you're told. Let me know your real male first name, so that I may christen you with a better female one." I felt a lump in my throat at his request. Not because it would be telling him more about my identity, but because I knew what his reaction would be. I had experienced this kind of thing before. But I felt obligated to tell him the truth, so I typed it in a message and hit send. "Robin" His response was almost instantaneous. "You must be shitting me. I can't believe it. Well, I guess it just tells me that even your parents knew you were meant to be a sissy. Why else would they give you a girl's name? Well Robin, I think we can move on to the next step for you. I live in Atlanta, but travel over much of the south as part of my job. Where do you live? If you are in the region it will be worth my time to continue with you." My face flamed as I read his message. I had silently cursed my parents for my name, and would have used my middle name had it not been as bad, a family tradition, Avery. I hadn't gone that route because there were two girls named that in my high school class. I tried to use the shortened version, Rob, but teachers invariably called me by my full name. His mocking of my name wasn't unexpected, but he was far more personal and effective than I expected. But I felt a surge of excitement when he said he lived in Atlanta, because I too lived in the south. Not close to Atlanta but certainly within driving distance. I hesitated a second, as I judged whether I was beginning to provide him too much information. I still wanted to maintain my privacy and distance. But it seemed safe, so I hit send again. "Durham NC" "You must be destined to be a complete sissy. That's one of my primary sales areas and I travel there very often. My sales work involves universities and colleges, and as you know you live smack dab in the middle of a bunch of both large and small schools. So, that's a good signal for us to continue. As you've proven yourself to be true sissy material, I want to find out more about you so we can move you along the process. One of the critical factors, is relationships with blacks, both for you and your wife. Tell me something about your life in that regard. Did you grow up segregated, do you have black acquaintances, friends, etc., and do you live in a diverse area now?" I had inwardly flinched when he said he came to Durham often. I had almost hoped it was outside of his territory. But it was good in a way too, because it meant we'd continue the game. The tug of war inside me over whether to stop or continue reflected both my desire for this kind of excitement and my embarrassment about how I fit the sissy model. When he asked about my interactions with blacks that was better. I typed my response easily. "My wife and I grew up in a mixed community, mostly white, but with a fair number of blacks and Hispanics, which included our high schools and colleges. There are blacks at both our jobs, and we have a few as neighbors. In fact, I work with a black lady and we usually eat lunch together. I consider her a close friend. My wife and I have socialized with her and her husband, like at the company picnics and parties. I guess if we went out more, we'd do things with them as couples, as they'd be among our closer friends. To be honest, I've never thought in those terms, as race doesn't factor a lot in our daily interactions. I just see people." I felt good about how I saw race and the fact that I didn't really believe in the prejudice that was still so prevalent. Knowing he was a black man, I thought this would be a good trait. "Robin that is a nice attitude, but one that you'll have to lose at this point. Blacks are not just people. For you, now, they are superior people. If you've read my whole Tumblr page, you'll understand that. It is important that you come from a position of seeing equality, because that will help you adjust easier to your new life. Of course, for your wife she'll remain on our level. It's been my experience that the old saying is right, 'once they had black, they never go back'. I'm sure she'll be pleased. That brings me to the next question, has she ever had sex with a black man? If not, has she expressed desires or opinions about them? Maybe a comment that a black man was sexy or attractive?" Hearing Charles so bluntly described how my life would change was a shocking thrill. My pulse was racing as I read his description about my change in status. That rate increased as he wrote about Amy. I knew she had dated before we met, and was sexually active. But I never knew who her partners were. We'd also had never talked about black men, like that. So I told Charles this information, being truthful. At his point, I wanted to please him, so we'd continue. "I like where you're at Robin. It seems you're more comfortable with blacks than many whites, but I can take you further. But first, tell me more about your wife and your relationship. When was the last time you fucked? Was she pleased? What else do the two of you do, maybe oral or anal?" I was starting to get uncomfortable with Charles's questions. I guess because I had become sensitive about whether I was indeed satisfying Amy. But the lure of his fantasy, prevented me from stopping, at least here. So I replied with answers. "We're like most married couples I think. Sex a few times a month although it has been nearly ten days since we last made love. I might have been a little selfish then, not paid enough attention to her and her orgasm. As far as other things, I do lick her as foreplay but she's not into oral on me or any anal at all." I sort of hoped my response might slow him down. He might realize we're maybe not quite his cup of tea, as we're too conservative, sexually, for him. I watched the icon to see if he replied. The note came through. "I'm not surprised that you don't satisfy your wife, Robin. Your little peter is probably not much bigger than her clit. That would also explain why she has no interest in sucking you either. But you should do her. Every sissy should be skilled and eager to lick women's pussy as well as a man's cock. It should be second nature for you. As far as anal, I think you'll love that once you get a big black dick up there. Again, that's what sissies are for. So, do you do other things to please your wife, since you're a failure sexually? I hope you do housework, cooking, laundry or something." Every time I think I couldn't be more embarrassed or hurt, Charles would find some other way to do just that. I was positive Amy liked me fucking her, but I couldn't explain her recent lack of desire. But I wanted Charles to know I was a good husband, so I told him how much I did for her. How, especially lately, I had done more or less all of that for her. I felt vindicated when I laid out all the chores I had taken over. "Robin, in many ways you are the perfect trainee for becoming a sissy. You have already adopted so many of the traits that a good sissy must have. Plus you been blessed with the kind of physical attributes that are the foundation of being a sissy. Based on what you've told me today, I have a plan for you to find out if your wife is interested in this lifestyle, as well as begin to actively train you to realize your sissy potential. First we need to get you in a position socially where you interact with more blacks. Start with this women you eat lunch with. Do you think you could set up a couple's night out with her and her husband? Go out with your wife and them, eat dinner and see a movie. Have you seen the superhero movie, 'Black Panther'? If not that would be perfect." "I guess I could ask her if they'd seen the movie and if they'd like to go with us. Maybe have dinner first and then the movie. My wife might like that too. We did that kind of stuff often when we were dating." "Then do it. I'll tell you the best theater to go to, one that will likely have at least a 50% black audience. I think I know which one that will be, but let me check. Also, I want your wife in a dress, something pretty and sexy. You will wear a simple white dress shirt and black pants, with your panties of course. During the evening, see if she mentions any good looking guys, if not you do it. Afterwards feel her out about the movie, lead actors, and attractive guys in the theater. When you get home, and this is real important, I want you to go down on her right away. Preferably, as soon as you get inside. I want her to come with the thoughts of black men in her head, but come from your tongue. She needs to see you as serving her that way, not trying to fuck her. This will be the first step to switching her desires from white sissies to black men." "Okay, I'll try to line it up for this weekend. I'll let you know what I find out." Then I saw the indicator flash off, showing he was no longer online. I had already taken my cock out and stroked it. I came a few minutes later, replaying our conversation. It had hit so many of my new fantasies. As I cooled off, I thought about this whole thing. I had planned on just telling him my friend, Sherry, wasn't available or they had seen the movie. All without talking to her of course, but now I wasn't sure. I loved the feel of this, the tension the idea created in me and the sex appeal associated with it. Plus, Amy might really enjoy going out with Sherry and Andre. We seem to get along well at the company parties. They were our age and similar in that they were married only a few years. It was hard for me to see how doing this was any kind of risk at all. The next day work was busy, but I was able to take my usual lunch break. I had almost forgotten about my conversation with Charles, when Sherry showed up. She sat right next to me and began talking almost immediately. Mostly about how crazy busy work was today. By the time she had heated up her soup in the microwave, the other clerks had left. I was bouncing back and forth, whether I should bring it up or not. Looking down at the last of my sandwich, I decided. "Hey Sherry, have you and Andre seen that new Marvel movie, Black Panther yet? I was thinking of going but wanted to know if it was as good as everyone says." "Not yet, no. Andre wanted to wait a few weeks to let the crowds thin a little, but we'll probably go this weekend. I mean I want to see it, but I've never been the biggest fan of those kind of fantasy movies. But Andre likes them a lot." "You know what we ought to do, is go out together. I want to see it, but Amy is like you, she'll go to be with me, but it's not her favorite movie genre. If we went as two couples, Andre and I could talk about the action and superhero stuff, and you and Amy could talk about the hot guys in the movie." I instantly regretted saying the last line, but Sherry laughed. "That's a good idea. I like Amy and it'd be fun." "Great, you know we'd could eat out first and then go to the movie. You want to see if Andre's interested and I'll check with Amy. If they're on board, we could finalize our plans tomorrow." "Alright. Now I got a real reason to survive this wild day." We spent the rest of our break talking like we usually did. But somehow, I felt like Sherry was looking at me differently. Maybe because I acted like the fact that we weren't the same race meant nothing. Before I saw Charles's Tumblr that would have been right, but not now. I already felt like I wasn't worthy of talking to a lovely black woman like her. I would have to be careful if we did go out with them this weekend, I couldn't let Charles's notions affect my actions. I did check Tumblr after I got home, and Charles suggested a theater that bordered both the revitalized downtown area and a predominantly black neighborhood. I also knew it was near some good restaurants, so it was a good choice all round. That night at home, I had a real nice dinner for Amy. She was warming up to me now, it seemed. When I mentioned the idea of going out with the Simms she gave me a look like she was stunned, but then smiled. "I like it, but I'm surprised you suggested it. Of course, I'll go. It's a wonderful idea. We've not done this in years." "Well I just thought we'd fallen into a rut, with work and all. Sherry said the same thing about her and Andre. I checked theaters and times and we could go eat at Rafters and make the 9 o'clock show at Tower Cinema. How's that sound?" "Wow, good idea. We've been talking about eating there for years. I'm really looking forward to this weekend now." "Sherry has to check with Andre, but I think it will work. I'll call you at lunch tomorrow." The next day at work, my run of luck, bad or good, depending on how horny I was continued. Andre liked the idea, and Sherry liked the restaurant choice. I went ahead and made reservations and bought our move tickets online. I was too excited about how I was following the script to get scared. I was even able to convince Amy to wear a pretty dress and was very pleased when she selected her red strapless one. I knew it hugged her curves, and showed a hint of cleavage. It would be perfect. Friday night came, we met our friends at the restaurant. We ate a good meal and had a fun time. I had forgotten how much Andre and I liked the same things, especially sci-fi movies. Sherry and Amy were acting like sisters by the time we headed over to the movie. I was having such a good time, I had forgotten about why I set all this up. Until we entered the theater. There weren't more than a dozen white people in the whole place. But it was fine, no reactions, unless you considered guys looking at Amy in her tight red dress. Those looks brought the whole evening back into perspective. I felt a wave of panic as I realized what this path might led to, but I also was very excited. As we made our way through the crowd, Amy and Sherry side by side, I saw them glance at a couple of black men. Tall, dressed well, and quite handsome. I thought I saw Sherry nudge her and they both giggled. Andre seemed not to notice, I guess because he was quite good looking himself and trusted his wife. The move was great. I enjoyed the story and action but in the back of my mind it was hard not to see how attractive the lead male characters were. They had hard bodies and handsome faces. They were also portrayed as strong, masculine men. It was clear why Charles selected this movie for us to see, as it was as positive a portrayal of black men as you could get. They were sexy, smart, strong and dominant, the same image of blacks as on his Tumblr. I continued to feel excited but subdued as well. Would Amy like this kind of man? Even though I felt like I was walking out on thin ice, I felt compelled to play out this scenario, as I could already envision how it would stoke my masturbation fantasies. After the movie ended, we waited a minute in our seats to let the full theater empty out a little. Andre made a couple of comments about the storyline and characters. I chimed in to, as I really liked how the movie developed the main character. I had grown up reading comics, and always thought Marvel characters were more real and appealing. As we all exchanged comments, I took a deep breath and decided to go for it. "One thing I really liked about the move was they used really strong, attractive black men and women as the leads. I think it gave it more reality and appeal." There was dead silence for a minute, before Sherry bailed me out. "I couldn't agree more. I mean, it's refreshing to see sexy black men as heroes and not cons or villains. Plus, I like looking at them." I followed her lead. "Well look at Andre, aren't all black men sexy and attractive?" Everyone laughed, although Amy looked at me in a strange way as if she was seeing a new side of me. We got up to walk to our cars, and as we said our goodbyes, Andre told me we needed to do this again. It was good to get out, the girls agreed, and we left, all feeling pretty happy. As I drove home, Amy looked at me a couple of times, sort of smiling. When we got to the house, I knew I had to follow through with Charles's plan. I took her in my arms, hugging her as I gave her a kiss. She responded, obviously feeling good too. Seeing as she was receptive, I whispered in her ear. "God, you looked so good tonight. Every man at the theater couldn't keep his eyes off you. You've got me so horny, I have to have some. Right here, right now." I reached up under her dress and started pulling down her panties, she actually helped, as she stepped out of her shoes and then kicked off her panties as they fell to her feet. I think she was expecting me to try to fuck her, as she reached for my belt. But I moved her so she could sit back on the couch, falling to my knees in front of her as she sat down. Seeing my intentions, she spread her legs, pulled them up on the couch, and lifted her dress, as if to invite me in. Amy didn't shave her pussy, but kept the brunette hairs trimmed real short, so you could see her details. I could see her labia looked swollen and her slit glistening, so it wasn't lost on me, that she was already wet and excited. I went for it, licking and kissing my way up her thighs to her pussy. I began my usual cunnilingus, focused on her labia and outer vagina, but rather than retreat this time after a few minutes, I moved to her clit and continued to kiss, suck, and lick her. She responded, the more I did, the more she squirmed. I think she kept waiting for me to stop, like I always did. But this time, I stayed focused on her, until I triggered her climax. Her body went stiff and she moaned loudly, as she softly held my head in place. As she regained control, she looked down at me, over her bunched up dress. "Oh Robin that was wonderful. It felt so good." I looked back up at her, my face shiny from her juices. "You want a glass of wine? If you don't mind I'd like some more of you." I could see she was stunned, so I stood up, got her some wine, and then knelt before her again. While she sipped her wine, I softly licked her thighs, and lower torso, working my way slowly, ever so slowly back to her pussy. Again, I worked her over, doing long strokes with my tongue over and between her labia. Taking them lightly between my lips, as I sucked on them. Flicking my tongue over her clit, pursing my lips and sucking it lightly, or sticking it up her pussy, as far as I could. I mixed my attentions but gradually increased the pace, bringing her toward another orgasm. This time, when she held my face, it was tighter. She began to rub her pussy against me and as she reached climax, pushed tightly against my face. I could practically feel the shudders of her climax wash over her body. Finally she released me and her legs fell to the floor. Her eyes were closed and she was softly murmuring. I felt so good, after my last disaster of fucking, I loved seeing her orgasm so strongly. She opened her eyes and looked at me. "Want to go upstairs so you can come too?" "No, I'm good. Just seeing you happy is enough. To be honest, I'm as spent now as I ever have been. It's been a great night, but I'm beat. How about we just go to bed and snuggle?" She smiled as she nodded yes. We went upstairs, peeling our clothes off, to fall in bed. I held her against me and we soon fell asleep. The next morning I got up early, both to grab my panties from inside my pants and to write a detailed message for Charles. I told him, in as much detail as I could, everything that happened. After sending it, I went to make coffee and start breakfast. The smell of coffee, bacon and eggs, brought Amy downstairs. We said hello, and sat down to eat. "That was a great time last night. You really surprised me, you know." "What do you mean?" "Well you know, I loved what you did when we came home. You made me feel so good and attractive. I didn't think you liked doing that enough to do it until I came. I loved it." "My pleasure, it was great for me too. I loved seeing you react and come like that. I don't know why I stopped pleasing you that way. Is that all?" "No, some of things you said about the actors also. You know black men being so sexy and attractive and all that." "Oh, it just seemed natural. I mean, didn't you think they were?" She looked down at her food, as if she was hesitant to say anything. Finally she answered still not looking at me. "Yes, I do. To be honest, I liked the attention I got in the lobby too. I feel sometimes that I'm not sexy any more. So it was a good ego boost. It was fun with Sherry there too, she pointed out a few hot looking guys. That doesn't make you mad or jealous or anything does it?" "No, I mean it makes a lot of sense, as black guys can be real attractive, plus it's just looking. There were pretty women too, besides you. As long as it gets you as excited as I was last night when we got home, it was worth it." I could tell she felt relieved, I guess she felt a little guilty about her having a climax and me not. I realized I rarely felt that way when it was me. We ate a bit more in silence, before she mentioned that Sherry had shown her some nice earrings. "She has these real cute earrings on last night and when I asked about them Sherry said they were made by a local artist. She asked if I wanted to go look at his stuff, as he has a small shop in the Greenland Gallery area, you know that eclectic little alley with neat shops. I'd love to go today, but we need to do a thorough house cleaning. Do you think we could start early, so I might have a chance to go later?" "Oh I can do the cleaning. I had planned on it anyway. Why don't you call and see if you can meet earlier? That way you can have lunch or something while you shop, if you want to." "Oh, I can't ask you to do all the cleaning, I mean you've already taken over the laundry and meals. That wouldn't be fair." "No, no it's fine. To be honest, I kind of like doing the cleaning. It's nice to see how everything looks when the house is neat and clean. Besides, you deserve some relaxation time, as you work longer hours than me." "Oh honey, you're so sweet. I'll text her and see if that will work. Thanks again." Sherry was available, so Amy got dressed and left. I had offered to clean, as a mental thing for me, sort of role playing the submissive sissy that Charles had outlined on his site. Plus I really needed to jerk off. I was still horny from seeing all the black guys check her out and then eating her, so I could use some alone time. I made a list of chores and went right to work. I wanted them out of the way, so I could have some time for me. Amy being gone, also allowed me to hand wash my panties. I only had one clean pair left. By early afternoon, I was done and I decided to look at Charles's Tumblr to help get my rocks off. I had just opened it, when I saw I had a message. "Robin, I am pleased that you have embraced your new role so well. I couldn't have scripted a better scenario for you and your lovely wife Amy. I am more and more convinced that you are destined to not only be a complete sissy, but a cuckold as well. Your wife is deserving of the real cock that only black men like me can give her. Your eagerness to expose her to this lifestyle is a compliment to your love for her. She will always need your mouth to give her pleasure, but no woman would be satisfied without some cock. We both know you can't give her that, at least a man's size cock. We will continue to prepare her for that kind of sex. You'll need to make some changes too. But I'm also extremely pleased with your current appearance. I will have no problems making you the kind of feminine toy that both Amy and I can enjoy. You already seem to be prepared for that transition." As I read the message, I became confused. First was he just assuming Amy was beautiful, but then what did he mean I looked like I was already transitioning? I re-read it to be sure I wasn't interpreting it wrong. I still had the same feeling. I then noticed the indicator that Charles was online. I sent him a quick note, telling him I was a little confused. He replied, sending a blank message with an attachment. I quickly opened it and let out a gasp. The attachment had several photos. Of me and Amy, with Andre and Sherry, at the theater. Two were long distance photos showing the four of us, but two had close-ups of us, our faces clearly visible. I actually began to tremble, not knowing what to do. Was Charles going to blackmail me? Another message appeared in my queue. I was almost afraid to open it, but I was so bewildered that I had to know about the photos. "Do you like your photos? I was close to Durham on travel and decided to check out the theater. I needed to know if you were real, or just playing around. That's one reason I wanted you to go to a theater where you would be in the minority. Made it quite easy to spot you and your wife. All I had to do was check all the whites and see if any were associated with a black couple. I found you within minutes of you entering the lobby. I also noticed that Amy seemed to be having a good time, almost flirting with some of the studs checking her out. I'm positive she'll be totally supportive of your new identity. But what I loved seeing almost as much as her beauty, was your appearance. Trim body, not tall, maybe even petite in proportion. Soft, round face, and small, bordering on delicate, hands and feet, which I suspected based on your incredibly tiny peter. You already have long hair and lovely pierced ears. I mean you're basically a fairy already. Amy and I will only need to take a few steps before you will be more girl than boy. Your description of Amy's reaction to being around real men makes sense too. I think you've known for a while that she's not getting what she needs from you sexually. But we need to keep exposing her to the idea that she deserves a black man. I'm going to send you three short movie clips of black men with white woman. I want you to show them to her, in order. Tonight, ask her if you can go down on her again. Tell her you want to give her more orgasms. If she agrees, which I suspect she will, tell her a friend you met through work sent you some video clips that he thought were sexy and hot. Tell her to watch them while you go down on her. We can judge her reactions to them when they're over. It's real important that you do your best to give her orgasms while she watches these. I want her to associate the kind of sex she will see in the clips with climaxes. Once we make that link, then we can proceed with the rest of my program. Finally, in case you're having second thoughts. It's a bit late for that. From what I've seen and what you've told me, Amy is approaching a point in her life where she will be forced to make a tough choice. Whether she wants to abandon real sex with men to live with you, or give up her marriage to pursue her needs. Don't force her to make that choice. What I can do, is give her the raw animal sex she craves while you provide her the love and stability that every woman wants. That way you remain a part of her life and help her enjoy it to the fullest. I insist you do as I tell you. I won't even mention how easily it would be to punish you for a wrong choice." I sat there, literally for a couple of minutes, staring at the screen. His next message popped up and I opened it. There were three links which I knew went to video clips of interracial sex. I couldn't bring myself to look at them. I finally got up and went to the bedroom. I had intended to jack off, but now I was no longer horny. Instead I needed to do an honest assessment. I removed my shirt and pants, leaving me standing there only in the yellow panties. I looked over my body, trying to be impartial in judging it. After a few minutes, I took off my panty, so I was completely nude. It took a minute or so, for my cock to move to the front out of its tucked position. My balls remained inside me, where they had been almost constantly since I started my infatuation with Charles's Tumblr. Being totally nude, I could see the shape and form of my body. I could see how my penis, soft and hairless, with a narrow landing strip of pubic hair gave me a decidedly non-masculine image. But that image was also reinforced by the rest of my body. I had no discernible muscle mass, my legs were long and trim, as were my arms, and my shoulders were not broad by any means. My waist was slightly narrower than both my hips and chest giving me an indication of an hourglass shape. My penis was so small as to be practically hidden. I did have some body hair, but it was fine, its dark color giving me a fuzzy appearance at best. Looking at my face, it was indeed soft and round, as described by Charles. I had big eyes with bushy eyebrows and long lashes. However, you could see that by plucking my eyebrows you could enhance the natural arch to give them a very feminine appearance. Complimenting my eyes, were a small, straight nose and average to slightly plump lips. I could only imagine how sexy they would look with lipstick and how my eyes would be so much more expressive with mascara, eyeliner and shadows. Even my cheeks could be contoured with blush. Similar to my body, my facial hair wasn't thick. Despite its dark color, I didn't have a five-o'clock shadow, my beard would need to grow for several days to be visible from a distance. And nowhere to be found was my Adams' apple, just a soft, long neck, currently wrapped by my long brown hair that fell to my shoulders. I had always worn my hair longer, but Amy for some reason liked it even longer. She actually spent time brushing it for me and helping me with the right shampoos and conditioners so it would be soft and shiny. It was her idea too, to get my ears pierced. Even though I only wore earrings after work, and usually only metal studs, I could see the feminine possibilities in them too. Maybe Amy saw those possibilities too and that's why she liked me. I fell back to sit on the bed. I had to admit I was not a very masculine looking man. It took very little imagination to see how Charles or anyone could transform me into a feminine creature. A sissy by his nomenclature. He had a nice description of those on his Tumblr. It listed the kind of conditions needed for a man to be a sissy. Number one was nature. I had to admit I checked that box. Other factors like a nonaggressive, passive personality, a willingness to serve or assist rather than lead, indecisive, and even submissive behaviors were all present in some degree in me. If I followed through with his plans, is there any doubt that he would be successful? I felt not. Again I was transfixed and motionless for a few minutes as this reality set in. Finally I knew I needed to finish the laundry. I had to put away the lingerie, both mine and Amy's that was dry by now and I had a stack of blouses and skirts to iron. Seeing there was little reason not to now, I put the pretty yellow panties back on, its lace molding to my tucked penis, and finished getting dressed. I was just finishing ironing when Amy returned. She was bubbly and excited. I shook my off negative feelings and responded to her cheery hello. "Hi honey, welcome home. You have a good time?" "Oh my yes, it was great. I really like Sherry. We seem to have so much in common and I found several nice pairs of earrings. So cute! Plus they were very reasonably priced. You want to see?" Amy proceed to change out several pairs of handcrafted earrings, all in a silver metal adorned with natural stones, like Turquoise. When she was done, she kept smiling like she had a secret. "Those all look nice. Is that all?" "No, there's one more pair. But they're not for me. I found a cute pair of earrings for you. Ever since you agreed to get your ears pierced I'd been looking for something with more flair than your studs. Here, try these on for me." Amy handed me a small bag. When I opened it I saw a pair or silver earrings, long dangling types. A closer look showed they resembled lightning bolts, with a couple of black and yellow stone beads at the top. They were something I would have never bought for myself. But I switched them with my studs and turned to face her. A big smile crossed her face. She reached her hand to lightly lift one out, like she was looking at it. Then she slid her hand back further to remove my hair tie, letting my hair fall free from its ponytail. Amy ran her fingers through my hair, spreading out around my face. "I wish you'd wear your hair down more often. I really like it that way. Especially with your new earrings, it makes your neck look so long and regal even. Don't you just love how they look?" Amy turned me so I was facing the mirror. I could see what she meant, the way the earrings hung down, with my shoulder length hair as a back drop, did make my neck look long and slender. Feminine. It may have been okay before, but now all I could think of was that Charles would really approve of this. In fact he might require such looks. I could tell he would dominate my thoughts until I could figure out what to do. But none of that was apparent to Amy. "I can see the house looks great. You do such a good job at this. I really appreciate not having to use my free time to keep it looking so nice. So, I think you deserve a reward. How about we go out to dinner? Sherry and I only had small salads for lunch. If you're done with your chores, you can get cleaned up and we can celebrate. I want you to wear your hair down, with your new earrings. Live a little. You could pair it with that nice lemon-colored shirt I got you for your birthday and those new skinny jeans. You'll look great. Tell you what, I want to check my emails, and social pages. Why don't you hurry along and get ready. But first, will you bring me a glass of wine?" I did as she asked, giving her a glass while she sat on the couch with her tablet. I took a quick shower, shaving my face to remove the short stubble. I checked out my cock area, pleased that the hair had regrown enough so I didn't have any stubble that might rub against Amy. I was starting to get horny again, and hoped after I ate her tonight, we might fuck. I dressed as she suggested. Again, my interpretation of how I looked was changed now because of Charles. Before I would have thought the pastel color shirt, a bit too big for my frame, and the tight jeans, molded to my legs would have been a fashion forward look. A nod to current trends. But now, it looked more like a woman's top with leggings. Especially given that my hair was loose, resting on my shoulders and every movement was reflected by the long dangling earrings. All that was missing was some heels and makeup. But I went out this way, to please Amy. We took her car since it was already out of the garage and went to a nice restaurant. I was hungry, but she wanted us to have a cocktail first. Amy was so chatty, telling me every detail of her shopping trip with Sherry. She described each little shop, telling me what they sold. I could tell the area was full of specialty shops, but blushed when Amy said she saw lots of things that would look good on me. For example, I should do more with my legs. This kept reminding me of how Charles wanted to feminize me, as most of the shops sounded like ladies boutiques. When we finished dinner, Amy started driving us home. My mind was spinning now, as I knew what Charles wanted me to do. Should I follow through? It would mean taking another step down the path he wanted, but one I was now unsure about. What would happen if I disobeyed him? Did he know enough about me to make a real world connection? Was he right about Amy and her desires? Would they threaten our marriage? To me, being married to Amy meant everything. My job was bland, with no career goals. The rest of my life revolved around her and our life together. I had no idea what I would do, if she left. But was Charles right about how letting her have sex with real men, I had to admit I didn't fall in that category, would satisfy her urges enough that she'd still want to be my wife? There were so many variables it was hard to decide what to do. Even thinking about this made me reflect back on Charles's sissy description. I had so many of his characteristics. Just trying to decide what to do was almost impossible, suggesting that he was probably right. By the time we got home, I defaulted to his plan. We were holding hands as we went down the front walk to our door. As we stepped in, I once again took Amy in my arms and we kissed. I could feel her body press against me and my penis twitched in its beige panties. I was scared, as the plan would take us places we'd never been. Even watching porn, like the video clips, was something we'd only done once or twice when we were dating, and not having real sex. I could sense she was excited too, so I broke off our kiss to start the ball rolling. "Honey, I'm still pretty hungry. You mind if I get a taste? A sweet taste of you, like last night?" "Of course, you may. I like how you ask me for permission too, very sweet." She smiled and gave me a quick kiss before looking at the couch. Stepping back, she kicked off her shoes and was starting to pull down her pants and underwear. "Why don't you get me a glass of wine too? I like a taste of that while you get yours." I stepped into the kitchen and poured her a glass. Sitting on the counter was my laptop. I looked at it, as if it were evil. This might be the last chance I had to stop the wild ride I had started. But I didn't know how I would fight back if I did. Charles seemed to hold all the cards now. Maybe Amy wouldn't find the videos exciting and since I was pleasing her with my mouth, might be satisfied with that kind of sex. So I picked it up and carried both back to the couch. Amy was sitting on the edge of the cushion, nude from the waist down. The sight made my penis twitch again, snug against my body, held tightly by its tiny panty. I handed her the drink and then got down on my knees. I quickly opened the laptop. I had already posted the clips on my screen so they would be easy to get to. I was scared and trembling a little. But I went ahead. "Honey, let's try something new. An acquaintance at work, sent me a couple of links to some sexy videos. He told me they were really hot and I thought you might want to watch them while I kissed you down here. After last night, I wanted to keep trying new stuff. What do you think?" Inside I was hoping she'd say no. That she'd rather just watch me and feel me licking and kissing her. But no, she just smiled, nodded her head and took the laptop. I told her to click the first one, and then go in order. I wasn't sure how long each clip was, so I just got in positon and started kissing Amy's thighs moving toward her pussy. Again, I could see she was moist, and I could even smell her excitement. This was so different than our past sexual trysts, as she normally wasn't particularly wet. I knew she was enjoying the new nature of what we were doing. Amy settled back and I could hear the audio as she started watching the first clip. But I didn't want to listen, afraid of what would be there, so I buried myself in her pussy. I wedged myself as close to her as I could, snuggled in between her thighs. Like last night Amy started to respond quickly to my oral attentions. She was squirming and seemed to be getting wetter and wetter, although that might just be my imagination. It wasn't hard to assume she was getting more turned on than before since she was watching something too. I sensed her approaching her first climax and I focused all my effort on her clit. Only in the background could I hear her click the next clip. As her first climax peaked, I intensified my kissing, sucking, and licking. I felt like I was giving away something by doing that, making sure she was very excited as she watched Charles's videos, but I couldn't help myself. I was becoming addicted to her taste, the responses I elicited from her pussy, and just the pride that I could give her orgasms. I knew now she had never climaxed from my penis. I never saw this kind of response from my sticking it in her. It hurt in some ways to know I was incapable of generating this degree of excitement using my penis, but at least I knew now, my mouth would certainly please her. I was convincing myself that whatever images Amy was watching, she would certainly be satisfied with our sex life if I made her come like this. That thought seemed right, as she orgasmed again. I plunged on, determined to give her three climaxes tonight. It was my way of staking my sexual claim for her, to fight against whatever kind of pleasures she was seeing on the screen. I had heard her start the third video. It sounded different, not as much talking and scratchier, a sort of lower quality recording. But I persevered, despite how my knees, tongue and jaws were getting tired or sore. I felt an inner pleasure as she firmly clamped her thighs against my head and put her hand at the back of it. She was rubbing her pussy hard against me and I heard her mumble to put my tongue in her. I complied, trying to get it as far inside her pussy as possible. Finally her whole body shuddered, not once, but several times and then she collapsed. Her knees relaxed, and moved from my head. Her hand stopped pressing my head forward, and lightly stroked my hair a few times. She had put aside my laptop mid- way through this last session, and I felt good knowing how much I had pleased her. I rested my head between her legs, breathing heavy, and in rhythm with her. Finally she rubbed my head again to get my attention. "Honey that was fantastic. I never knew you were so talented with your mouth. I think that last orgasm was the best I've ever had. Really. Ever, in my life. But tell me, who is this friend of yours that gave you the clips? Have you watched them? I mean they were hot, really hot but different." I had expected her to ask about the clips. I told her he was just a salesman that occasionally came by the office. He always seemed to talk about sex and had offered to show me some other videos, but this time he actually sent them. And no, I hadn't seen them yet. "Well tell you what, let's go upstairs to our bed. We can cuddle there and watch them again together, okay. I need to cool off for a while before I go to sleep." I agreed and we went upstairs. I was hesitant about watching the clips with her, as I wasn't sure of her reaction. But it wasn't lost on me, that Amy had made no offer to reciprocate sexually, like she had last night. I didn't know if she had no desire for my penis, was too tired, or just assumed I didn't want any sex. No matter why, it meant I would not be putting my penis in her pussy. I quickly changed into a pair of pajama bottoms while she put on a nightgown. We got under the cover and she put the laptop between us. Clicking the first clip, she started the video. The movie started like a lot of inexpensive porn, a repairman coming to a house. He was black and she was white. In rapid progression, she flirted with him, he responded, they undressed, and soon were fucking. She had a typical sex video look, blonde, lots of makeup, big boobs and puffy lips. He was the stereotype of a black man, tattoos, mean look, and a big cock. I was shocked at seeing it. First going from big even soft to bigger and thicker when it was hard. The woman had a difficult time taking more than a few inches in her mouth, although she was enthusiastic about it. When he flipped her over and began to fuck her doggy style, it was eye opening. Her pussy stretched wide, so wide it looked it would tear. But she was loving it and it was amazing to watch as he pounded her. I mean just how long it took to slide all the way in. I knew my penis would be in and out of Amy's pussy a half dozen times by the time the man entered the blonde once. When he came, it was even more mind-blowing, as he shot so much it seemed like a firehose. I could sense, Amy was getting aroused a little watching it again. She also glanced over to me, to see my reaction at certain points. She'd make comments about how his cock looked too big to be real, or how could the girl take that all of it inside her. She also said, more softly in an almost confessional tone, that she'd be surprised if she could do that. But it was clear she liked what she saw. The next video was similar, but a different scenario. This time the woman could take more of the man's cock in her mouth, and she actually sucked to an orgasm, as he pulled it out to come all over her face. But he wasn't done, staying hard enough to put it in her pussy and fuck her. She had her legs over his shoulders, her pale white skin in sharp contrast to his dark tone. She was very vocal, screaming and calling out his name in praise. But overall the theme was the same, sexy white woman taken by big-cocked black man. Again, Amy made comments during the movie. She liked how deep he got when the girls legs were on his shoulders, expressed admiration for her ability to take his cock down her throat, and giggled at the women's guttural moans, wondering if she would make similar noises. Amy's interest in the details of the clip, again surprised me, but not as much as when she related the events to how she might do. The third clip was much different looking, not as professionally filmed as the first two. It was filmed in a lower light, used the same angle the whole time, the audio was very low, and it was cropped so the black man's head was out of the frame. It also had another major difference. Although the woman was white and a black man with a really thick, long cock fucked her, there was another person in the room. Sitting in the corner, on a chair, was a naked white man. He was older, smaller and a little chubby. He sat masturbating a smaller, thinner cock, his hand wrapped around it. He intently watched the two fucking, with an implication that the woman was his wife or girlfriend. The woman would turn and smile at him, saying something occasionally but at such a low volume as to make her words indecipherable. But it was clear they were all having a good time, even the white man, as he came right before the black man did. It looked like the woman had several orgasms by then. This one really sparked Amy's comments. She wondered aloud if that the man in the corner was the husband. She seemed to like that he was watching. She was also impressed by the man's cock. Although big, she said it looked more realistic. She even suggested the other videos might be photo-shopped somehow. She did have a few snarky comments about the woman, who to be honest wasn't the prettiest and a bit flabby like the white man. As she had during the first two videos, Amy would look at me at certain points during the last film. Sort of judging my reactions I guess. When it ended, she looked to me again. "So, you'd not seen these before? What did you think about them? I was surprised at the flavor of all three, being interracial and all. Was the guy that sent them to you black, or the guy in the corner?" She laughed at the last question. I tried to answer in a way that put my interest in these at a minimum. I focused as much on the women's looks as on she did on the men's big cocks. I avoided answering any questions about the white guy or details about the 'salesman'. Having watched her reactions, I was having second thoughts about all of this. I was also worried. Charles knew so much about us and I had foolishly posted such revealing photos. What would happen next? What I thought most likely, made me quiver. But Amy made me feel better. She again mentioned her great orgasms and we snuggled close. She fell asleep long before me, as my mind kept replaying what had happened tonight. The possibilities going forward didn't seem good. The next day was more relaxing, almost as if nothing had happened. I did summarize the events in a note to Charles. I was hesitant to provide him with details, but figured he'd follow up with questions if I didn't give him all of it. I was beginning to dread these interactions. It had gotten too personal, too close, and too real. Before, it had been a wild fantasy. Even the parts where I involved Amy didn't seem like reality. But now, after watching the videos with her, especially the one with the cuckold in the corner, I had my doubts about whether she would resist such an idea. My only hope was that Charles would not push this quickly. I was thinking, scheming of ways to get out of this. But no matter what I thought of, how I might break it off, my doubts resurfaced. If I refused to go further would he expose me? If I did refuse, would he make contact with Amy anyway? I was worried about how long, if at all, she'd hold out. I mean if I were her, and had a chance to try a real cock, would I say no? So even though Amy and I lounged around all Sunday, I didn't totally release my fears and worries. The next week was similar, on edge about what was next, but thinking of escape routes. Surprisingly, I heard nothing from Charles. So that by Thursday I was slowly letting my guard down. That night, though the tightness and anxiety returned. There was a message in my inbox. From him. I debated about opening it. Even logged off and did some stuff around the house, but finally I had to look at it. My fears were too great to not know what he wanted. "Robin, we're ready for the next step. I am pleased you have done all that I told you to do. Amy's reaction to the interracial videos was what I expected. Typical for most white women seeing real fucking for the first time. I'm sure after seeing them yourself, that you recognize how what you could do with her would not be called fucking. You've got to have a cock to fuck a woman. By now, I hope you realize that this is for the best. You've found your place in life. Amy needs an Alpha male to compliment her life with a Beta. A sissy Beta white male. You. It would be the best of all worlds for her. I think you love her enough to know this is true. I will be Durham Saturday night, on the way back from a sales pitch. I want you and Amy to meet me for drinks and conversation. I'll be at the Jazz Spot at 7. It's a nice low key place, perfect for a rendezvous. I can't wait to meet you two in person." I wanted to cry, or scream, or just die. Why did I succumb to my weak urges? Why did I follow what he wanted? I couldn't stand the thought of losing Amy to this man. But what could I do to stop it? My only hope is that she was happy enough with me, that she wouldn't do anything to hurt me and she'd be satisfied with a fantasy. Despite my misgivings, I did as Charles said. I casually mentioned to Amy that my friend was in town and wanted us to meet him for drinks Saturday night. My hopes that she would decline, were dashed immediately. Instead she seemed excited and told me she liked how we were going out and doing new things again. It was like we were dating once more. What was worse, was she wanted us to go to the little shops that Sherry had shown her. There were a few things she wanted me to see. So the next day after work, we met in the Greenland area. She immediately took me to some shops, both to just browse and look at a few specific items. The first thing she wanted me to look at were earrings. This shop had a whole array of silver, bead, and natural stone styles, like the ones she bought me before. Amy insisted I try on a half dozen pairs. The ones she liked best were a pair of hoops, with twisted metal and embedded teal, coral, and vanilla beads. They had a matching silver necklace, too. I thought they were too much, but she loved them both, so I relented and bought the set. The next place featured clothes. Even though they weren't mass-produced items, they were still relatively cheap. But the tops Amy wanted me to try were not a style I would have tried on my own. One was really form- fitting, a sort of V-neck tee shirt style, with very long sleeves and a hole at the end to slip over your thumb. The other style she liked was a very loose, almost billowy look, with three-quarter length sleeves and a notched collar. Both came in pastel colors, none of which I liked. But Amy insisted I buy one. Given how the second style looked like a short dress, I opted reluctantly for the tighter tee. The peachy-coral color would complement my new jewelry too. Amy loved it so much, she bought it for me. To finish the night, we ate at a little Thai restaurant before going home. I was almost too anxious about Saturday to do much more, but Amy pushed me again. As soon as we entered out house, she not so subtly, slipped off her jeans and panties, asking me to bring her a glass of wine, before settling into her new favorite spot on the couch. I knew her signal and knelt between her legs, kissing and sucking on her pussy until she had a couple of strong orgasms. In some way, this made me feel better. I knew now, I could please her, even if it wasn't with my cock. Maybe it was enough to ward off Charles. But again, Amy made no attempt to reciprocate sex for me. Luckily Saturday I had housework to do, so I could distract myself and avoid thinking about the rendezvous. Amy had a salon appointment, to get her nails done and her hair trimmed. I worried that somehow she had made the connection, but I saw the appointment had been on our calendar for weeks. I didn't have a lot of chores to do, so finished by mid- afternoon. Amy was back by then. She asked whether we would eat before we met our friend, or just get some snacks at the bar. I knew I was too nervous to eat so we opted for snacks later. I had made up a scenario in my head, to keep this from going any further. It was going to be my decisive stand against Charles moving on my wife. First, I was not going to act submissive or demure when we were together. I would project my male strength to match his. Second, I would subtly remind Amy how much I had pleasured her lately, giving her multiple orgasms. Third, if he mentioned the clips he sent us, I would dismiss the images in the videos as unique individuals, chosen for their size, to be used in porn films. I could reasonably argue that on average most black men were the same normal size as me and other white men. Finally, I would rely on our marriage vows, to keep her from straying to him. I felt confident about this meeting for the first time since it was arranged. I took a quick shower, while Amy got dressed. She wanted us to be sort of coordinated. So she was going to wear a lace dress in rich coral with matching heels. She insisted I wear my new peach-coral tee shirt, my distressed skinny jeans, and my new jewelry. She wanted my hair down too. I argued that this wasn't my image, but she pleaded that I would look good in something so fashionable. I gave in, as I wanted her to feel like I respected her advice. It was another small part in my defense plan. The one thing I did that Charles requested, was to wear the black satin, embroidered, G-string. He had insisted on it and if for some reason, I wasn't persuasive I didn't want to risk any potential exposure. Besides, I could slip if off easily once we got home. I had already decided that after I ate Amy to several orgasms, I was going to mount her and reclaim her pussy as mine. I was sure if I warmed her up with my mouth, she'd be able to come from my penis too. I thought I might be nervous as we drove to the club, but a calm had settled on me once I had my plan. I had been excited about the fantasy Charles projected on his Tumblr, but a reality like that was not for me. Or Amy. We got there early, claimed a table, and ordered cocktails and an appetizer. I realized I didn't know what Charles looked like, so I would have to wait for him to spot us. As it went past 7 to almost 7:30, I began to hope that maybe he didn't have the nerve to actually make contact. That hope was crushed by a deep voice behind me. "There you are. Sorry I was a bit late, some guy hit the guardrail and traffic was sick. Hello Robin, this must be your lovely wife, Amy. I'm Charles. Pleased to meet you and very impressed. Robin's been bragging about how pretty you are, but he undersold you. May I sit down?" A tall, broad shouldered black man moved from behind me, his eyes focused on Amy and sat down, taking the chair between us. He had short cropped hair, a medium brown color skin, and was dressed in a professional way. Rich purple dress shirt, black pinstripe suit, and flashy black shoes. His face was attractive, with strong features. A big smile crossed his face, and his tone was welcoming and friendly. My heart was pounding in my chest, as just his appearance projected far more masculinity than I had expected. He reached out his large hand to lightly take Amy's hand and give it a soft kiss. I could see her positive reaction, to his appearance and chivalrous move. I noticed she was a bit reluctant to move her hand from his, even when he released his light grip. After an extended look at her, almost a stare in her eyes, Charles turned toward me. "Robin you look festive tonight. I'm used to seeing you dressed so conservatively at work, but this outfit is much more relaxed. I like it. Your hair too, I never realized it was so long, smooth and shiny, pretty almost. This look seems to suit you better, especially those earrings. It's rare for a guy to wear hoops, but on you they seem to fit your personality." "Don't you just love them? I've always wanted Robin to show some flare when he dressed. I helped him pick them out. As well as his shirt. I think peach looks good on him, don't you?" "Definitely. He can pull this look off for sure, as it highlights his trim, sleek appearance. I apologize for being dressed like a stodgy old guy, but I just came from a work meeting. I would have preferred something a little more relaxed. But Amy your outfit is stunning. That color and lace really show off your figure. Like I said, Robin bragged on you, but you far exceed his description." "Don't worry, you look nice Charles, that suit fits you so well. Some men look better in traditional designs, I can see you are one of them. And thank you for the lovely compliments. I admit, I like to dress up. That's one reason I really looked forward to tonight. Robin really wanted me to meet you, I think. He has a subconscious way of showing when he's excited about something and he had that when he described coming here." "Great, I hoped he was excited about letting me meet his gorgeous wife. But how about we order a round of drinks? I'd like to relax a bit and get to know you better." By now, Charles had turned to face Amy, sort of blocking me out. It was clear he was putting all his efforts into making a good impression on her. We ordered some drinks and another appetizer. The next 30 minutes was a tortuous mix of general chatter, small talk, and back and forth between Amy and Charles. His demeanor included making multiple contacts with Amy, light touches that by themselves seemed merely friendly. But since I knew his desires, they worried me. Charles and Amy involved me just enough to keep it a three-way conversation, but I quickly saw that when Charles would mention me, it often included some comment about my appearance, behavior, or actions that portrayed me as less than masculine. Like saying I was so accommodating to Charles at work that I made him feel like he was in charge. Or that he wished his face was a soft and smooth as mine, that if he didn't shave every day, he'd look like a cave man. And how my slim legs looked good in tight jeans but his legs were too thick to wear anything so form fitting. He also showered Amy with compliments. I could see she was getting a very positive image of him. He also ordered another round of drinks, and had put our entire bill on his tab. Charles was easily and firmly establishing himself as the one in control. My efforts to be bold were swept away. I found myself differing to him, allowing him to be strong and dominant while I was more demure and submissive. It seemed natural to him, and he took over easily. Just simple things like him lightly touching and squeezing Amy's legs when he would say something, and then doing the exact same thing to me. It was like he was equating me and Amy as the same. We were soft, sensual, and compliant, while he was strong and demanding. At one point, he took her hand in his, placing it next to my wrist where my sleeve stretched out around the base of my thumb. He held her little hand in his big hand, but positioned so it was clear that my hand was more like hers than his. Charles pointed out that her nail polish would go well with my top, being in the same color family. Amy agreed, smiling at his observation and commenting that she had coordinated the color of our outfits. The implication was that I would look better with polished nails was clear. Amy even said that she always thought my fingers, long and slim, would look really nice with a manicure. Charles had also established himself as a sexual creature He had taken a simple inquiry from Amy about whether he was married, dating steady or what and turned it into a short soliloquy about how he was better suited to play the field. That he needed to experience more in life at this point than in a committed relationship. Not that they weren't important, but just not now for him. Any commitment he made had to have some limits and fit his lifestyle. It had been an hour by now, and Amy had several drinks in her with only a small amount of food. I could see her letting her guard down more, but her next question surprised me. "Charles, Robin showed me some clips the other night. Were you the one that sent them to us?" "Yes, I did. I hope you were alright with them. I mean, that is more guy stuff, but I know some couples like to watch videos to spice up their sex life. Based on some of the things Robin told me, I thought you all might enjoy them. What did you think?" I could see Amy blush a little and it seemed like my heart had stopped beating. This was the moment I was afraid of and stupidly had become complacent about. She seemed intent on discussing it more. "Oh they were very hot. I mean, we've not watched stuff like that much since we got married. But it was fun. I mean, they seemed unreal, you know, like most porn, but still exciting." "Yes, it seems most of the videos lack any real story and can be quite bizarre. But I sent those to Robin because they were pretty realistic in most ways. Did you guys watch them together in bed?" I could see her really blush now, but I also saw her nipples were rock hard, projecting through her thin bra and lace trim of her dress. Amy was excited. "Eventually yes. But the first time Robin let me watch them while he, well, while he made sure I had a good time." Amy laughed as did Charles. He looked my way, smiling. "Well he never bragged, but I assumed Robin was good at that sort of thing, given how soft and luscious his lips look. I imagine he can use them pretty well, which can be important for some guys." Again a round of laughs from them both. I sat there almost petrified, not sure what to say. Charles had taken my sexual skills of pleasing Amy and defused their impact, making it sound like that was the only way I could please a woman. It hurt because it was so close to the truth. I tried to think of something to derail the conversation, but my mind was frozen. I couldn't decide what to do. "So were you impressed with the men? I think they were among the better ones I've seen in films for knowing how to please their partners." "Oh my yes, they were very impressive. Almost unbelievably impressive, so to speak. Well at least all of them except for the white guy in the last clip." Amy shot her eyes at me as she said this last bit, a big smile on her face. I could see Charles eyes start to really shine as he could see how positively Amy was reacting to his videos. "Well I can guarantee that everything you saw and appreciated in those clips was real, the men included. Here let me show you something." Charles pulled out his phone and quickly clicked on an icon. Turning it so both Amy and I could see, a video started to play. I recognized it right away as the third video he had sent. But this version wasn't cropped. It showed the black man's face. It showed Charles's face. The third clip was of him, having sex with a white woman, while her partner sat naked in the corner. A hush fell over the table as we watched. The only sound came from Amy, a sort of husky, rapid breathing, like she was getting excited. Her face was red now, but she was more a sexual flush than an embarrassed blush. She looked up at Charles and a quick glance at me. "I didn't know that was you. I could see it wasn't a professional video, but still, I didn't even think it might be one of Robin's friends. I guess I have to believe this one was real, at least." I could tell she didn't know what else to say. She was sitting here next to a man while she watched him fuck with his huge cock. A cock that had turned her on when it was anonymous. What would happen now that she knew who that cock belonged to? Charles stopped the video and began to scroll through a couple of files, until he clicked another one. It opened a series of photos and he started a slideshow. "Take a look at these and tell me what you think." I felt like I was going to die. The photos were the ones I had posted on his Tumblr of me in panties. One after another, pretty panties. Pink, beige, black, lemon, white, and peach. It was clear that a male was wearing them, as his small penis was visible through the lace or sheer fabric. "So, what's your impression?" "Well, it's obviously a guy, but not a guy like in your videos. He does look cute in them though, they seem to fit him pretty well. Guess if he must be the right size for panties." "I agree, he does look pretty in panties. Take a look at the next couple of images." Charles clicked another icon and a new slideshow started. These were photos of me in the tiny little G-string panties. The pretty baby blue, butterfly thong. Even the image of the panty I was wearing now. Amy was smiling more now, but I could still hear that her breathing was rapid and her nipples were still hard. "Well the girl in these panties looks pretty hot. They're so small but they mold right to her." Charles didn't say anything but clicked one more image that came up next to the G-string photos on his screen. It was my cock, naked, shaved smooth. Tiny little nub sticking out in a sad, silly attempt to look like a man. I heard Amy giggle, a sort of nervous little laugh, like she was seeing something she wasn't supposed to see. Charles didn't need to prompt her for a response. "Well that must be the guy who was wearing the panties. I must say, he looks like the kind of man that would look best in panties. I mean he'd probably be lost in a pair of man's boxers." Without a beat, Charles spoke up. "Well those are photos of Robin. He posted them to my Tumblr page. He wanted me to see how he fit the mold of the other white boys who follow my page. He was quite eager to share them. By the way, that was him in the tiny little G-strings too. He's obviously so small that any style of panty is right for him. Isn't that right Robin?" "Robin, is that you? Did you give these to Charles?" I had been sitting there, like a bystander at a car wreck, just watching everything unfold. But now, I was in the middle of the wreck. I could see the disbelief on Amy's face. A mix of shock, surprise, and hurt, as if I had cheated on her. I felt comatose, knowing nothing I could say could change this. I was sure my marriage and my life with Amy was over. I had to look down, away from her face. I softly answered. "Yes, I sent them to him. I'm sorry." "Don't apologize Robin. You did the right thing. The right thing for you and Amy. It takes bravery to admit you aren't the kind of man your wife deserves or needs. Sure you've taken a big risk contacting me, especially without telling Amy. But I think it was the best choice. Amy what Robin did, he did because he loves you and wants you to have the best. Be honest, when you watched those videos, those videos of real men giving women the best sex of their lives, it turned you on. I bet you imagined you replacing the women in those clips. I know because I've experienced it many times before. With wives of loving devoted husbands, like the white boy in the corner of my video. I've pleased his wife many times, most with him watching, and their marriage is stronger than ever. As a black man, I know the allure I present to white women. White males know it too. Some like to be cuckolds, like in my video. Others look at themselves and admit they aren't that kind of male, but something different, special. I'm an Alpha male, a dominant, strong, a leader with everything a woman needs for sex. I know my role and how to please women. Alphas are the stereotypical image of a masculine man. Beta males are different. They prefer to follow and let others make decisions. They are supportive, nurturing even, and know their role in a marriage. Beta males make good housekeepers, they often are very domestic, and go out of their way to please their wives, relieving them of many of the mundane chores. For betas, sex is often focused on them pleasing their wives with their mouths, using their tongues and puffy lips to provide a special sexual thrill. And in some cases, betas admit that they shouldn't embrace the trappings of men. They are more suited to a softer, prettier look. They know that their lack of masculinity highlights their usually prominent feminine attributes. I always say if a penis looks good in panties it belongs in them. These betas are sissies. They are born to embrace their uniqueness and adapted to wearing clothing that reflects their inner personality. To keep themselves in the ways that women do, and to let their femininity show. Robin is that kind of beta, a sissy. So it was natural for him to want to be in panties, for me and for you. Honestly, I think you see him that way too. Look at how you dressed him, the types of earring you bought him, even how you ask him to wear his hair long for you, like a girl does. Just because Robin isn't a typical man, isn't masculine, and doesn't have what it takes to please women, even their wives, with his penis, doesn't mean it is bad. It's just his nature. Amy when a man like Robin reaches out to me, to ask me to help him provide better sex for his wife, he does so for love. I truly appreciate sissies like Robin, because for her to do this takes the kind of courage that is not easy. You must realize that and appreciate her efforts. But I also realize that it takes two to make such a decision. It's not enough that Robin wants my help. You have to want it as well. So I prefer to take everything slow and easy. If you are interested in pursuing such an idea, then we'd meet beforehand, several times, to get acquainted. Sort of like dates. We could go out, maybe to dinner and movie, maybe drinks and dancing, or even the symphony or a play. I think it is important that the wife come to know me and trust me. If that is established then we can get more intimate. If not, then all is fine. I know relationships have to be built and sometimes connections don't click. But what supports all of this is Robin's love and devotion for you. I need to go now, to be honest, I need to head back to Atlanta for work. But I'd like to have your phone number, if you're interested, and I can send you some more things, and we can chat more to see if you want me to come back again. Plus, I think you need to go home, and let Robin show you how much she loves and worships you. You can check out her panties too. I think she'd like that." Charles stopped at that point. My heart felt like it had stopped hours ago and I waited trembling for Amy's response. I worried that having it all laid out like that would make it so unseemly as to be too much. But I also felt inside, that she would appreciate having sex with a man so equipped as Charles was. Before we came, I was afraid Amy would agree to be with Charles, Now if she didn't accept his offer, I was afraid it would mean she would want to be rid of me, for being untruthful, for going behind her back, and for not being a real man. I saw more chances for heartbreak than anything else. But after a few seconds of silence, which seemed like hours, she answered. "I have to admit this is so unexpected that I really can't comprehend it all. But I can't deny that much of what you've said is true, Charles. So, give me your phone, and I'll add my number. I think I owe Robin at least the courtesy of listening more to this idea." Charles handed Amy his phone, and she entered her name and number. He stood up, took back his phone, and then in a slow sensual way, leaned over and lightly kissed her. I could see Amy close her eyes and slightly open her lips to receive him. But it was brief, then he straightened up, looked at me smiling, lightly caressing my face with his big hand, and left. That meant I was alone with Amy, after having admitted I was not the man she thought she married. I didn't know what would happen next. We sat there in silence for a minute or so, then looking at me, Amy said we ought to go home. The ride there was silent as well. Inside I was hurting, convinced my marriage was over. As we entered the house, I was wavering between falling on my knees and begging forgiveness and just packing a bag to leave. Amy flipped on the light by our couch. "I could use a drink. Bring me a glass of wine." She said it in a normal voice, but with no audible emotion. I did as she asked. When I returned she was sitting on the couch where recently I had been so successful in pleasing her. Amy looked me over as I came to her. After taking the glass, she stared at me. "Well let me see those tiny little panties for real. I want to see if the photo you sent Charles does them justice." I was numb at this point, so I slowly peeled off the skin tight jeans, working off my loafers in the process. I straightened up and she motioned for me to come closer, as she sipped some wine. When I was next to her, I felt like dying. I knew the tight panty, cinched using the clasps on the side had my cock and balls tucked safely inside me. Amy reached out and lightly ran just her fingernails over the satin G- string, following the curving line from front back between my legs. The small mound in front, resembling nothing more formidable than a girl's pubic mound, with a total lack of any sign of male genitalia, fit perfectly with Charles's description of me as a sissy. I could see her examining my panty closely as she finished touching it. "Well at least the pretty embroidered flowers have a touch of coral that matches the rest of your outfit. Pull them down, I want to see it." I had been warming up, a slow flush starting to color my face as she had touched my smooth front. But her command for me to show her my penis, made my face a hot mess. I reached to the sides of the thong, to work the tight strings over my hips, and move the panty down to my thighs. I slightly spread my legs to remove any pressure on my hidden male organs. With the pressure off, the glans of my penis poked out, but no more than an inch. My balls, I think because of how often they had pushed there, remained inside me. It was easy to see Amy was amused by my look. But she reached to it anyway Using her thumb and forefinger, she lightly pinched my glans and pulled on it. My penis responded and began to harden. A little. She put all her fingers on it, teasing it, pulling on it, and scraping her nails across it. Her touch was enough to cause it to become fully erect. By now, my balls had moved down part way into my sack, but remained close to my body. I had been embarrassed having Amy see me all flat in front, held in by my tiny panty. But now I was really humiliated, because without any pubic hair, the true small size of my organ was on display. My penis was sticking straight out, not quite four inches, lightly bobbing in the wind. Amy stopped touching it and looked at me. "Robin, why did you contact Charles without telling me?" "Oh, I'm not sure. I found his site and for some reason, it excited me. I guess the fantasy seemed sexy." "So you think it's sexy to put on panties. To take photos to show the world. To dream about your wife having sex with strangers. Is that it?" "When you put it that way, I'm not sure. The process was gradual and each step seemed small. Plus, I never imagined it would go beyond fantasies. Charles was more creative than I realized." "You didn't think he was capable because he was black?" "No, of course not. I just felt I was insulated by the internet. I thought I would be anonymous. But he gradually worked out enough detail and information to locate us. I felt pressured to comply at that point." "You didn't find tonight exciting? Perhaps, having your sexual fantasies become real, weren't as good as you expected." "To be honest, the reality of it all scared me. I was afraid I had lost you and our life together. No fantasy would be worth that." "I see. I'm still intrigued by your interest in panties. Is this new or something you always did, but never told me?" The flush in my face expanded and I could feel my chest, extending between my breasts get warm and look pink. I felt like I was being grilled. "I always was drawn to such things, but never acted on these desires. I felt I could control the urges and was satisfied to keep them as fantasies. I guess interacting with Charles was like opening Pandora's Box." "So you weren't tempted to wear mine or sneak into my lingerie drawers?" "No. Personally, I liked seeing you in sexy things and when I washed your stuff, I always thought of you wearing them, never me. In my eyes, you are the prettiest woman, I've ever met." "That's nice. I always felt you appreciated me being sexy for you. Charles said you realize that you're incapable of giving me sex, or at least some kinds of sex, to a level I deserve. Is that true?" "I'm not sure. I know I'm not big, certainly not like him, but I feel I can give you orgasms and make you happy. But I don't want to you to feel you're missing out on something you might desire. I hope you know that doesn't mean I don't love you more than anything. But as I said earlier, this was all fantasy for me, but when Charles took over, it got out of control." "Okay, we all have fantasies and you've proven that you care for me in so many ways. But you are right, we only get one life so we need to make sure what we do is right for us. I take it you have all the panties you took photos of? If so, I think you need to take them from wherever you are hiding them, empty your underwear drawer and put them in it. At least for now, I prefer you wear only panties, so you might as well be up front about it. I have a lot to think about, so it's probably best that we keep the status quo as is, until I can decided. That means you can put that away, pull your panties up, and get on your knees. I've been horny ever since Charles kissed me and your puffy, soft lips are the best way for me to come right now." Amy had looked at my penis, which without her physical touch and under her withering cross-examination of my motivations, had returned to a flaccid state. It was embarrassing for her to watch me do it, but with a practiced hand, I put my balls back into place, held my penis collapsed upon itself, while I worked my panty over it and up my hips. When I had everything covered up, I knelt in my place, between her legs. She told me to remove her panties, and I saw she was really wet. I wasn't sure if it was meeting Charles, talking to me about it, or the whole evening, but something had clicked with her. I plunged in and spent the next hour licking her to multiple orgasms. After she had enough, she told me to clean up and come to bed. I did so, and when I got to the bedroom she was already under the covers. Sleep didn't come easy for me that night. The next few days were awkward to say the least. Amy and I didn't seem to talk as much, and I felt an uneasiness between us. It was also embarrassing to have to wear my panties openly in front of her. Because we got ready for work at the same time, she'd ask me which ones I was going to wear and I had to show her before I put on my pants. Her slight smile or light chuckle when I modeled them for her, made me feel small inside. She also seemed to be on her phone a lot, texting, looking at the internet, but only an occasional call. All of it made me nervous. Amy hadn't said what she was going to do or if she would even see Charles again. We made it through the week, and I was still unsure what my status was. That changed on Thursday night, as we got in bed. "Robin, we need to talk. I've been thinking this whole week about this. I've also been talking to Charles and looking at some things he sent me. Like his Tumblr page. It's brought a lot of this into a sharper focus. He and I are going out tomorrow night, just for dinner and conversation. I need to learn some more. If that date goes well, and I expect it will, then we're going out for some drinks and dancing on Saturday. But don't worry, he's made it clear that we will remain friends at this point. It will still be part of the feeling out process to be sure I am comfortable with him. You'll have your own plans for Friday, right after work. He's made an appointment for you at a salon he's familiar with. I actually called to confirm and discuss your visit too. We agree that you should also take some steps in the process. So you'll get waxed and a pedicure. I think you should be smooth and have some pretty polished toes. Of course Saturday will be your regular domestic day. I still expect you to continue to do the chores you so willing took over. Charles's Tumblr had lots of good ideas on how sissies can be invaluable to a woman, and if appropriate, her lover. I'll text you the address for the salon tomorrow, along with a few other requests." When she finished, Amy rolled over and turned off the bed lamp. I lay there, petrified. To be honest, I expected her to go out with Charles. It made perfect sense, especially since she loved to dance and I didn't. But the idea of going to a woman's salon was scary. It meant I would be exposing more of my feminine identity to others. Plus, would it be painful? I tossed and turned all night. The next morning, Amy laid the pink lace panty out for me to wear. I knew that meant the ladies at the salon would see it too. I tried to keep my mind off everything at work, but lunch with Sherry only reinforced how I had started this all. Plus Amy's email made it worse. Not only did it have the address of the salon, but she listed a shoe store nearby. I was to buy a pair of tan thigh-high stockings and a pair of sexy high heel sandals. She suggested I start with size 8 ? women's shoes, but I might need help from the sales ladies. By the end of the day I was a mess and it was a miracle I didn't have a car wreck going to the salon. The shop was in a strip mall, but not in our part of town. It was a few miles from the revitalized downtown and surrounded by a middle-class neighborhood predominated by black and Hispanic families. Walking in, I could see almost all of the staff were black. I almost turned and left, but I was afraid what Amy and Charles might say or do, if I failed to follow their orders. Maybe it was a coincidence, but the young receptionist had am amused look on her face as I approached her. "Um, hello. I have an appointment at 4:30." "Hi, you must be Robin. We've been expecting you. Let me call Janelle, she'll be doing your waxing." She used the intercom to call for the technician. Another cute young lady came up to the counter and told me to follow her. I could see all the customers and staff look at me as we made our way back to a small room off the main area. I felt like I might pass out. But tried to keep calm. When she shut the door, Janelle turned toward me with a slight smirk on her face. "Go on and get undressed. I talked to your wife and her boyfriend, so I know what they want. She also told me you've never been waxed. It may hurt at first, but I'm sure you'll adjust to it. Also, it will take a while, but I'm sure they'll be pleased. Do you have any problem with doing what they want for you? If not you can put your things on the table over there." I expected her to leave or at least turn around while I undressed, but she stood there watching me. I began slowly, but realized at some point she'd see my panty. Besides, it was clear that she knew my wife and her 'boyfriend' had set this up. When she asked if I had problems, I wanted to say that it wasn't necessary, but I knew Amy expected me to follow through. When I was nude, she had me get on a table. She worked fairly quickly starting on my chest. I was glad I wasn't extremely hairy, and she was right, the first few strips really stung. But as she went along, I sort of got numb to the process. What I was more concerned about was my penis and testicles. I wasn't sure if she'd do them too, although I suspected she would, given how the hair on them was more than stubble. Of course she did. She removed all my hair everywhere on my body. The most embarrassing part was when she had me kneel, head down, and reach back to spread my ass cheeks. That let her wax my crack, and the space between my ass and sack. Of course removing the hair from my genitals hurt the most. But after an hour or so, it was done. I felt a wave of relief when she said I could put my panty back on. With it snuggly around me, I finished dressing. But rather than leave the room, Janelle had me sit in a chair. "I still have one more step. Your wife wanted me to shape your brows. I see what she means, they're way too bushy for your new look. The good thing is, you got a nice shape to them inside of all that hair. Just be still, as I want to take enough to give you a more polished look but I don't want to make them too thin." As with my body, Janelle worked her magic quickly. She applied the wax, pressed down on some strips, and with a quick pull, removed the hair. She worked both above and below my eyebrows, using three or four small strips per brow. When she was finished, she wiped them off. She seemed really pleased and told me, we could go now. I looked at my face in the mirror, ready to be horrified by how my brows would look. But at least this was some relief. They did have a feminine arch too them, but mostly she made them trim, not bushy but only a little bit thinner. Maybe the other clerks wouldn't notice. When I was done looking, Janelle took me to another lady, who was to do my nails. In some ways, getting my nails done was more stressful than the waxing. At least it was just Janelle and me before, now there were a half-dozen staff and more customers than that. All looking at the only white person, a slim boy in appearance, getting a nice manicure and pedicure. I was nervous about the polish, but she told me my fingernails would just be clear polish while my toenails would be a pretty coral. It took a while for the lady to go through her process. She wasn't very talkative, but nice. I felt like in this situation, it would be very easy to become the butt of a lot of jokes. No one said anything even if they looked at me oddly, which I appreciated. My heart was already about to stroke out. When she finally finished, I couldn't help but see how better my nails looked. The dash of color on my toes complimented my smooth ankles and I knew would make my legs looked more feminine. The slightly shiny tips to my fingers and the way they were now shaped even though they weren't long, made my hands look softer and slimmer somehow. I put my loafers back on, paid my fee and left. I knew I was only half way done, as I still had to make my shoe purchase. After getting her email, I had looked for the store website. Luckily, they showed their styles and inventory. I also checked to see how a male shoe size would translate to a woman's size. So I was more prepared for this challenge. I found the store and went in, again the clerk was a black woman, but she just glanced my way as this store was mostly self-serve. My luck had changed, as there was only one other customer. It took me only a few minutes to find the nude sandal, in my size. But it was taking me longer to find the type of hose I needed. Since I was sort of fumbling through the rack, the lady came over to help. She knew right where the style and color were that I needed. Luckily, she didn't ask who my purchases were for. But when I looked up at the mirrored wall behind her as she ran my credit card, I realized why. My arched eyebrows gave my face much more of a feminine look than I had realized before. She probably took one look, and knew they were for me. I would have to learn to adjust to my new androgynous look. With my ordeals over, I drove home. I was getting hungry and it hit me that my wife and Charles were probably chatting over drinks and a nice dinner. I knew Amy had driven herself to meet him, so I wasn't surprised her car was gone. Inside, I was caught off guard by the note she left. "Robin, I don't want you to just sit around and worry while I'm out with Charles. So, I want you to do a few chores for me. I assume you've completed your assignments. Go ahead and change into them, while you work. I want to see you're new smooth body with all its pretty accessories when I get home. You may use this new apron I bought for you, but nothing else but a panty, hose and heels." Opening the box below the note, I saw a lace trim apron Amy had mentioned. I felt trapped now, but followed through on her orders. In our bedroom, I removed my clothes, including my pink thong. I put on my beige panties, worked the hose up my legs and put on my heels. I had to see what I looked like before I put on the apron. My image was shocking. First my body looked so different without the fuzzy covering of hair. Feminine, soft, and smooth. Wrapped in silk and nylon, teetering on high heels, I looked anything but masculine. Its statement was clear. I was now a beta male, while an alpha male, a black man was at this very moment, wining and dining my wife with the intent to become her lover. My image was of a submissive man. More accurately, a submissive sissy. I had nothing to indicate I was male. But with further examination, what really worried me was my new shaped eyebrows. In the fog of the salon, having been overwhelmed by what was happening, the shape seemed only a moderate change. Under the bright lights of the room, I could see how much more feminine they really looked. Previously they had a hint of an arch but hidden in a bushy line. Now that they were neat and trim with all the extraneous hairs removed, all that remained was a clean line. They started close to the bridge of my nose, just to the inside of each eye. I could see where the hair that had been above this part of the brow was gone. Moving away from the nose, each brow went upward and peaked just to the outside of my pupils. A narrow climb with hair missing below the peak. The tail end of each brow now narrowed to a tight point as they reached the edge of my eyes. Maybe I was afraid to admit it in the salon, but now there was no other description. Even without makeup, they were the eyebrows of a woman, sexily arched to highlight the eyes. They did that well, making them seem both bigger and very noticeable. How could I go to work like this? Every woman clerk in my department would notice them. It would be a not so subtle sign that I was modifying my look to be more feminine. I wanted to cry. But I knew Amy expected her assigned chore to be done by the time she returned. So I slipped the apron over my head, which helped somewhat, as it hid my smooth crotch. The work wasn't hard, polishing all her shoes, but it did take time, over two hours. By now I was starving, having delayed my dinner to be sure I was done before her arrival. When I finally got up off my knees, removed the gloves I wore to protect my hands, and wobbled in my still unfamiliar heels down the stairs toward the kitchen, I heard Amy's car pull into the garage. It was ten o'clock, and my nerves were frazzled. I wanted to get something to eat, and wanted to talk with her. I both needed to hear about her date, and pretend it hadn't happened. Also, I wanted to see what I could do about my eyebrows. So I stood in the doorway between our kitchen and the living room, waiting for her. Amy bounced her way in, obviously very happy, a smile across her face. As soon as she saw me, her grin widened and she came right to me. "Oh, my word you look darling! I love that apron, it's cuter on you than in the store. And those legs, my they look so long and sexy. They're so much prettier without that silly hair. Give me a little turn, I want to see all of you." I was embarrassed now, but did as she asked, slowly pivoting, which wasn't easy in the heels. When I faced her again, I wanted to speak up, but she wasn't quite done with her inspection. "Robin, let me see the rest. Take off your apron. You did finish your chores, right? Good. Let me see you baby." I untied the apron, and lifted the halter over my head. I folded it and put it aside, before straightening up. I heard a soft gasp, and then a giggle. I could feel my face getting warm. "You look adorable and so much better without any body hair. I'm so glad Charles suggested it. I was a little worried that it was too soon, but not now. I'm going out dancing with him tomorrow night. He's such a nice and romantic man. So strong, but friendly in all the right ways. We had a wonderful time tonight. He's easy to talk with, knows when to take the lead, but also when to defer. He made me feel just terrific. Horny too. It was difficult not to think about that sexy video of him while we talked. Do you like your new look? I think it turned out perfect. I hadn't realized how soft and smooth your skin was, but it's clear after getting rid of all that ugly hair. Did you have a good time at the salon?" I had listen to her excited voice as she described her date with Charles. I understood why she'd be excited. But I needed to let her know that he had gone too far with having my brows waxed. They would not be hidden. "Amy, I need your help. Don't you see how they shaped my eyebrows? That was too much, I didn't expect Charles to be so inconsiderate of my situation. I can't go to work this way. How can I hide them?" Rather than the concerned or supportive look I expected, Amy only giggled some more. "Baby, they look nice. Don't be upset. Besides, it wasn't Charles's idea to wax your brows. It was mine. I got tired at looking at those thick bushes above your eyes. Now, I admit I wouldn't have shaped quite this much, but now that I see them, I like it. They give a wonderful shape to your eyes, makes them look more open and big. Plus, you look so much more neat and polished now. If any of the other girls say anything at work, tell them you were tired of having two caterpillars up there. But enough chatting, after being with him all night and seeing the new you, I need some relief. Get on your knees." Amy pointed to my spot in front of the couch, and then reached up her dress to peel off her thong, while I knelt there. I could smell her excitement and knew she must have been hot all night with him. I guess I was lucky she didn't push him to take her now. As she settled into the couch and spread herself, I dived in. I wanted to continue to remind her how much I could please her and make her come. It was the only way I knew to counter Charles's obvious physical advantage. It didn't take long for her to moan and start to squirm. I stayed there, pushing into her pussy with my lips and tongue, until she had been racked by three big orgasms. I immediately started cleaning her cheeks, crack, and thighs above her hose after the last one. I was going to impress her every way I could. When I was done, she patted me on the head and said to join her upstairs. She noticeably began to drop clothes as she left the room, knowing I would pick them up. Although I was glad to do it, I sensed that she was going to start pushing me to be more servile to her. Of course, she was preparing to embrace another man to satisfied her most primal urges, so it made sense that she provide ways for me to continue to contribute. But still, it stung more than a little to know she was seeing me as more valuable to her as a domestic than as a man. I told her I'd be right up, as I needed to straighten up first. I gathered her things, put away the clean dishes and in between grabbed a few bites of cheese and crackers, something to tide me over till morning. I hurried upstairs, as I wanted to remain on Amy's good side. If Charles was destined to be her lover, then I wanted her to need me for everything else. When I got there, more clothes, her bra and stockings were left on the floor. I picked those up while she cleaned her face in the bathroom. Coming out, she was wearing a pair of silky pajamas. Seeing me, she smiled and pointed to the end of the bed, where a small sheer nightgown lay. I had bought it for her a few years ago for our anniversary. It came down to her thighs, but was loose and billowy. I picked it up and slid it over my head as she watched. It was shorter on me, but still loose enough to fit. Amy told me to remove my hose and heels and get in bed. Even though I was still hungry and worried about her date the next night, I was able to fall asleep as I was drained from my humiliating experience at the salon. Saturday morning I woke with a start, having been in the middle of a nightmare. I was at work, with just a shirt, but no pants. Trying to hide my panties and smooth legs, and still make it to a staff meeting. It was clear that my mind was afraid of the next step at work. Since I was awake, I got up to make coffee. It pained me to admit it, but I knew Amy would prefer seeing me in hose and heels again. So after brushing my teeth and shaving my face, I put on clean panties and my hose. I carried my heels downstairs before putting them on, so as to not wake Amy. I had the coffee made, as well as cut up some fruit for breakfast, before I heard her come downstairs. She looked as gorgeous as ever, even without makeup and hair all tousled. There was just something about her that had a hold on my heart. I may be scared about our future, but I knew I wasn't going to give her up easily. We ate toast, fruit and had some coffee while we talked about our plans for the day. She had texted Sherry about going shopping again. Amy wanted a new dress, something sexy, to wear for her dancing date tonight. Since Sherry loved to shop, she'd be the perfect companion, as she could tell Amy how each dress looked. I was a little worried, because I didn't want her to know Amy was going out with another man, but I trusted her to keep our secret. Amy made it clear that I was to do my normal house cleaning work. It was obvious that from now on, I was responsible for all of our housework. She casually mentioned that she'd have to pick up some makeup in my skin tone, as she'd love to see how my eyes would look with my new shaped brows. The rest of the day was like most of my Saturdays lately. I had a routine to do all of our chores and by the time Amy returned I had completed them. I also had started a nice dinner for us. She told me that Charles wasn't coming by until 8 to pick her up for their date, so I needed to have something for her. Amy seemed thrilled when she came back. She had found the perfect dress, something sexy, but loose enough to dance in. She also had picked up new heels and some sexy lingerie to compliment it. She told me I could help her get ready. But she also found a few surprises for me, as she was so happy about my commitment to this process. We ate our dinner, with her telling me all about her shopping trip, describing all the dresses she had tried on and the darling little lingerie shop Sherry had shown her. It had lots of cute panties, bras, and sexy accessories. It was a bit more expensive than online, but she loved trying stuff on first. While I cleaned up, she went upstairs and took a shower. I carried her shopping bags upstairs and joined her. After she put her hair in hot curlers, did her makeup, she was ready to have me help her get dressed. It was hard to watch her get ready, her nude body making my penis twitch in my panty. But helping her get ready to go out with another man was even worse. All I could do was hope her promise not to have any sex with him yet would be kept. Amy told me to open one of the light pink bags from the lingerie shop. I gingerly removed the item, a small black garter belt and a pair of black lace top stockings. She had me hook it around her waist and work the stockings up her sexy, smooth legs to attach them to the garter straps. Once it was fashioned, she stood up and walked to the mirror. Something about the way the straps and stocking tops framed her ass and pussy was so erotic, it was painful to look at without touching her. Looking at herself in the mirror, she shortened each garter, so the stockings were pulled taut and sat high on her thighs. Amy turned and looked at me, smiling. "How do I look? I decided to go with stockings, even though it makes dancing more challenging. I figured Charles would love the look, don't you?" Amy told me to get her dress next. I looked at the other pink bag, thinking she had more lingerie. "What about your other underwear? Don't you have a bra and panty to match?" She laughed, with a sort of mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "No, my dress doesn't really work with a bra and I thought that Charles might appreciate the idea of no panties. I mean just because he wants you in them, doesn't mean he would prefer I wear panties too." Again, Amy laughed and motioned toward the dress bag on its hanger. I unzipped it and slowly took it out of the bag. It was short, glimmering in gold with a halter top. I unhooked the button at the back of the halter and held it out for her to step into. Working it up her legs until the skirt was around her legs, I let her position the front of the halter over her chest while I hooked the collar in back. The dress was very billowy and seem to float as she moved. It was cut so it was backless, with the fabric barely covering the sides of her breasts. The top fit tightly, showing off the curve of her breasts, while the hem just barely went past her stocking tops. I could just imagine how she would be flashing her body to Charles and any other men at the club when she danced. The idea that she wasn't going to wear any panties made it even worse. She had me get her the new pair of gold strap heels to complete the look. Amy looked devastatingly sexy. My penis was throbbing and my heart pounded just looking at her. I promised myself I would have my head up her skirt so fast when she returned that the last memories of tonight would be all the pleasure I would give her. It was all I had to combat Charles and his sexy, romantic presence. I know I brought this on by my stupid moves, but the way it was playing out was scary. As I sat there sliding into self-pity, Amy turned to me and smiled. She told me to open the other pink bag, it was for me. I started to open this bag, even more hesitant than I did the first. I looked inside and closed my eyes, whispering oh no. At Amy's insistence I took out the lingerie. The first thing I lifted out, was a black lace bra. It felt like it was burning my hand just holding it. I knew it was something that only girls wore. There was no arguing that it might be a male garment. The cups, straps and lace decorations all screamed girl. Or sissy, in my case. I reached in for the second item and blushed again. It was a black lace waist cincher with garters. I could see a pair of black stockings still in the bag. I glanced at Amy, she was all smiles. "Aren't they so pretty? It was part of a set, and I knew you had a tiny black lace thong that would go with them. I think it will really look cute on you. Plus I want Charles to see how much you're willing to do to make this work. He'll be here pretty soon, so why don't you get cleaned up and put on your new lingerie?" The way she said it made it clear that it was an order not a suggestion. While she finished her hair, I took my shower and reluctantly put on my new black lingerie, stockings, and panty. Fitting the bra over my chest was an eye opener. It was a pull on style, stretchy lace, with padded cups. It gave me just enough of a bust to be noticeable. The waist cincher was tight, but not terribly. What it gave me was the illusion of a smaller waist. Combined with the bra, my image had more of an hourglass appearance of a woman. I assumed Amy wanted me in heels, so slipped my sandals on. When I came into the bedroom, I could see Amy was ready. She looked wonderful, sexy, and excited. I just wished I was the one going out with her. When she saw me, a big smile crossed her face. "You look darling. I love it. Come here, I just want to add a little makeup. I don't have time to do much, but I've got to see how your eyes look with those new shaped brows." I wanted to protest, but didn't. Sitting on the stool in front of the vanity, I allowed her to put some eye shadow, liner, and mascara on my eyes. She added a touch of lipstick, telling me she show me how to do it all myself later. Amy worked so quickly and expertly, it didn't seem like she had time to do much. But when I looked in the vanity mirror, I could see what a radical change she made. My eyes looked so big, and feminine. My lips were glossy, but a nude color. Amy obviously wanted the focus to be on my eyes. Just as she finished, we heard a car pull into our driveway. Stepping back, she looked at me. "You let Charles in. I need to do a quick check first. Now scoot." I had no time to think, as I went downstairs. I heard his knock before I reached the landing. He had knocked a second time, before I opened it. I was torn at this point. I didn't want to stand in the doorway in only my lingerie, but letting Charles into my house was like the Romans letting the Barbarians into Rome, it was the beginning of the end. But I smiled and stepped aside, as he strode into the room. My heart was racing and my face was beginning to turn pink as I realized I was standing in front of a man, dressed only in woman's lingerie and heels. How had I gotten here? "Very impressive Robin. I must say, you've come a long way in just a few days. I felt you'd be a perfect candidate for this kind of transformation, but still you've exceeded my expectations. But then, so has your wife. I had such a good time with her last night. I think we are really connecting. I'm sure we'll have even more fun tonight. Most husbands don't realize how much their wives want a night of dancing now and again. Between the chance to dress up nicely, go out on the town, and release some of the pent up energy, it is a perfect stress release for a woman. It's also a great prelude for sex. But don't worry, I'll keep my word. My relationship with Amy is off to such a good start, there's no reason to rush things. Especially since she seems so receptive to my feminizing you. I think the best option is complete most of your transition before I fuck your wife. That way, there will be no male competition for her attention. From how quickly you've embraced being a girl, it won't be long any way." I was feeling devastated by the tone and details of his assessment. Charles could see that everything was falling into place for him and I had to admit to myself, that I couldn't see how to change it. He was so confident about the situation. As he talked, he stepped into my personal space, inches from me. He put his big hand on the back of my thigh where my stocking and garter met. Running it slowly upward, he finally stroked and then squeezed my bare ass cheek, sending goose bumps over my body. Charles already knew he had crushed my resistance and made it clear that my submission to him was expected. But my self-examination was short lived, as Amy appeared at the top of the stairs and started down. She looked so beautiful. Sexy but classy, cool but hot, the girl next door with a bit of slut inside. As she stepped down the staircase, she was flashing her stocking tops and bare leg above. I was almost trembling, as she made it to the bottom. What hurt most, was her excitement at seeing Charles. She went right to him, wrapping her arm around him, as he pulled her close. He leaned in and whispered something to her that made her smile and giggle like a teenager. She glanced at me, sort of a guilty yet defiant look. Charles complimented on how great she looked and suggested they should go. She picked up her small clutch, but just as they were about to go out the door, she turned back to me. "Robin, I want you to polish our formal silverware set. It's something that needs to be done, but isn't part of your regular household chores. I think times like tonight would be the perfect opportunity for you to catch up on some of these special duties that you need to complete. Be sure to wear your apron and rubber gloves, as I don't want you to mess up your pretty lingerie. Don't worry about staying up. I imagine we'll get back late, as I want to dance the night away." Then they were gone. I stood there in my heels and lingerie thinking about what had just happened. If I had any doubts, both Charles and Amy had made it clear where I stood in our new relationships. Both were relegating me to being a submissive sissy and at least Charles was going to make me a cuckold too. I cursed my weaknesses the rest of the night as I polished the ornate silverware that we had gotten as wedding gifts. We rarely used it, like most young couples, as we didn't have many occasions that were appropriate for them. To have to sit at our dining room table, slowly polishing these reminders of our wedding vows and marriage, while my wife was out dancing with another man, just reinforced how little of a man I was any more. I could see the small bulges on my chest where my new bra was giving me a bust as I did each piece. I could see my mascara-coated eyelashes at the edge of my vision as I made sure each one was completely polished before I put it back in the case. My stockings peeked out from the hem of my apron, my legs shaped by my high heels. At every turn, my feminization was on display. By the time I was done, I was sure that my life would never be the same. But I was intent on staying up until Amy came home. I couldn't sleep any way and I still kept hold of my resolve to pleasure her when she returned. Every time I went down on her, I felt like I increased my connection to her and kept her interest in me as her partner strong. I would do that again tonight, as a sort of antidote to Charles's charm and sexual attractiveness. Finally at three am, I saw the car lights as they pulled into our driveway. I heard them walk to the front door, where they lingered for a few minutes. I could see their shadows, as they kissed. Then they said good night. He left and she came inside. I had been sitting on the couch, ready to assume my position kneeling in front of her. I had convinced myself that I could use the excitement Charles would have created to position myself to give Amy her orgasms. I would transfer that excitement from him to me. Amy would realize how much I could excite her too. As she came in, I tried to take her hand to guide her to her spot on the couch. But she didn't move, but looked at me with an exhausted smile, happy but tired. "Oh baby, that's sweet but not now. I'm bushed. I just want to go to bed. I will tell you all about it tomorrow. I love how you waited up for me. That's why you're such an adorable, precious husband. Come on, let's go upstairs to bed." It was surreal, we stood side-by-side at our bath sinks, removing our makeup, only with me in lingerie. I could see Amy was spent and we soon were in bed. But despite her exhaustion, she snuggled up to me, wrapping me in her arms, pressing her breasts and body into mine, spooning me until we fell asleep. Surprisingly, I fell asleep quickly, despite my anxieties and worry. But unlike Amy, I woke early on Sunday. I could tell she would sleep late as she had expended far more energy than me last night. I got up, and was torn about what to wear. Amy had insinuated that I should wear my lingerie, but having only a few thing, I opted for my first outfit. So I went downstairs in panty, hose and heels, and then hiding behind my apron. I made coffee and had breakfast. I had slipped out, in a coat to grab our morning newspaper before the sun and the neighbors emerged. So I slowly read through the paper, trying to keep my mind off of what might have happened last night and what Charles had told me. Maybe if I acted as if nothing was changing, nothing would. As I flipped through the paper, my attention was drawn to various ads and flyers. Advertisements for women's clothing, underwear, shoes, and makeup. Before I might have looked at it, quickly, but with only minimal interest. Now, I looked at items wondering if they would look good on me, whether I would be required to wear them, or increasingly if Amy would suggest I wear something like that to work. I had put off worrying about the impression my new brow shape would make at work. But remembering how different and feminine my eyes looked with Amy's makeup, I knew other women would see them and think the same things. My anxiety levels were increasing about my personal relationships and my work situation. By the time Amy came downstairs in the afternoon, my gambit of acting as if nothing had changed was gone. But she was the same effervescent person she had always been. I made her some eggs and toast and listened as she described her night out. It sounded fun, if I didn't think about it being my wife and her 'boyfriend'. She wanted to tell me every detail: what they talked about, how much they danced, the different drinks she had, the admiring looks she got from other men, how sexy and free she felt in her gown, and how after an initial reluctance, she adjusted to being one of the few white women in a club filled with black men and women. I could see how Charles was immersing her in his lifestyle. But she also talked about her plans. Those were almost as worrying although reassuring in other ways. First, Charles wouldn't be back in town for a couple of weeks. Second, they were still going through the 'dating only' phase. She did confess she was so turned on last night when he kissed her goodnight, that it was hard not to pull him into the house for more. But she agreed with him, that they had to be sure this was right before they went further. Third as they went through the dating phase, she was going to help me transition to being more feminine. Charles had insisted on it, although again she confessed that she loved doing my makeup and had lots more ideas and looks she wanted to try out. Amy didn't promise that they wouldn't be so radical that I could remain incognito at work. But she told me everything would be gradual and she was determined to make me as much as a girl as she could. She told me it was clear to her now that it was something I wanted to do almost as much as Charles insisted it be done. I wanted to disagree with her assessment. I had always been content to keep my interest in girls' things as a fantasy. But I knew she wouldn't listen, and I could see that there was no way out of this path now. If I protested too much, I feared I lose her to Charles anyway. So this was my best option. The next month or so was focused on this transition. First I had to survive going to work, with my new shaped brows. I felt totally conspicuous as I worked at my desk that morning. I could see the other clerks look my way or do a subtle double take when they noticed them, although no one said anything. When I met Sherry for lunch, I saw her expression of surprise. At that point, I couldn't take it any longer. "Well, I know you're wondering, so I'm just going to tell you. I got them shaped because they looked so thick and bushy. I always thought they looked too unkempt. But I didn't expect the tech to make them this thin or to have such an arch. I was as surprised as anyone, but it was too late to go back. I..." "Robin, to be honest, I like how your eyebrows look. I agree you had really thick ones, kind of out of proportion to your face. But now, they make your face much more expressive and really open up your eyes. I always thought you had lovely eyes, a nice shade of green. This puts them more on display." "But they're too feminine looking. I mean the way they're arched they make me look like a girl. All the other clerks are staring at them." "You're overreacting. I mean, you've always had sort of a feminine feel to your face, so they almost fit better this way. But that's not a bad thing, at all. Just relax. I bet the other girls are just noticing the change, but aren't being negative. In fact, the more I look at them the better they are. I bet Amy likes them better this way, doesn't she?" I looked down at my plate. I couldn't really share the extent of Amy's excitement about them, but I guess I could admit she like my arched brows. So, I said yes. Glancing at my hands, Sherry mentioned that she probably suggested I get a manicure too. I blushed a little, as I hoped no one had seen the shiny clear polish. I guess I underestimated how noticeable such things were to other women. But Sherry surprised me, she mentioned that Andre got manicures too, although he preferred just having them buffed. To her it was just a personal preference, either buffed or polished, were an improvement, since most guys didn't really take care of their nails. I could sense her being supportive, so I tried to let it go. What was really more embarrassing was having Sherry ask about if we had a good time dancing, did I like the dress Amy bought, and the sexy lingerie too. I had to make up answers on the fly, just hoping somehow the lies didn't come back to haunt me. When she suggested that maybe we could double date for a night of dancing, it really worried me, and I mumbled some answer I thought would be acceptable, but noncommittal. All I could picture in my head was Amy going out dancing with them, but with Charles as her date and not me. When we left, Sherry gave me a big hug and told me that she found it impressive that I was so willing to do the little things for Amy to make our marriage better. That I shouldn't be reluctant to try other things to improve my appearance if Amy liked them. Sherry's endorsement of my new look, although a relief was hurtful, as it suggested I actually looked better after being feminized a bit. After lunch, a couple other clerks told me they liked my new look. So, I guess I survived that first hurdle. The other changes over the next month were more challenging to deal with. Amy insisted I go with her to the lingerie shop. We spent over an hour there, picking out more underwear, stockings, and accessories for me. Even though I didn't try them on, it was clear to the clerk that the items were for me, just based on the sizes. The clincher was the corset she selected for me. It had a built-in bra and removable garters, in a lovely pink with white lace overlay. The clerk stressed that it would take up to six inches off the waist size, once you adjusted it to the tightest lacing. So correct sizing was important and suggested Amy try it on to be sure. Amy's reply that she wanted one to fit a 30 inch waist made it clear it was intended for me, as she was no more than a 24 inch waist. Understanding the implication, the clerk looked at me as she said we could exchange it if necessary. The lingerie shop wasn't the only shop we went to. We visited the jewelry place and got several more sets, with more feminine earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and even an ankle bracelet. She wanted me wearing these all the time. We went to her favorite store to pick out makeup more suited to me. It wasn't as bad as shopping for clothes, because there wasn't a clerk watching, but knowing Amy was going to spend more time trying it out on me was scary. Amy took me to two shoe stores, as she had certain styles she wanted for me. Most were heels, very high heels. But she did pick out a few slip-on styles, flats she called them, which although they had feminine styling, at least didn't have heels. The final stop was one of her usual clothes places. It had a variety of items at discount prices. She often found bargain designer labels here, so she knew exactly where to look. This was the worst experience, both because she insisted I try everything on, and she actually bought some items that I could wear to work. I tried to persuade her that it was a waste of money, but she felt strongly that I should embrace a more feminine style all the time. Even if I still wore pants, shirts, and coats as my usual clothes, they would be women's pants, blouses, and blazers. I was horrified at some of the things she selected for me. The cut and styles were obviously feminine, the colors were brighter, with some soft pastels, and little touches like pearl buttons were just not found in men's wear. But she insisted as she wanted me to wrap myself in feminine style. Charles had emphasized to her that I needed to shed my masculine shell and expose my inner girl. She agreed that we needed to follow his lead, if we expected him to be the alpha male for us. Her reasoning really crushed my self-image. I had tried to maintain some degree of masculinity in my life and assumed that I could express that at work. But now, she was designing a total immersion in a feminine lifestyle that would be 24/7. I knew the women at work had become used to seeing my arched brows, my polished nails, more feminine earrings, and wearing my hair down. But to have to go to work in skinny ankle pants, a semi-sheer blouse with an abstract print, and a cropped blazer, all in matching light peach would be admitting I was trying to look like a woman. Amy's offer that I could wear a camisole instead of a bra, didn't seem like it much of a compromise. But I did count it as a win, especially since she had bought me a pair of large breast forms online. At home I wore stockings, bra and panties all the time. With my forms and often laced tightly in the corset, I had presented the typical female hourglass shape. Amy also insisted I use makeup constantly too. She showed me how to apply each item, and it was expected that I put it on as soon as I got home. I counted that as a win too, as she often commented that maybe I should use some foundation or a touch of mascara at work. Even a light coating of lip gloss would do wonders for me. So to avoid that added humiliation, I gladly did my complete look every night. Amy of course wanted to post some photos of my new looks on Charles' Tumblr page. I relented as long as she kept my face hidden. Charles took the time to put cute headings on each one, a sort of running commentary on his latest sissy's development. Seeing my image, and reading the various comments, made me both excited and humiliated at the same time. It was hard to accept that viewers saw me as so femme, and were hoping that Charles would take my transition all the way. It didn't help that he made veiled comments about how this 'pretty, soft sissy' was a perfect candidate for cuckolding too. It was clear he intended to show Amy what a big black cock could do. My anxiety about Amy peaked a few times during this period. Once, when Charles called her mid-day to tell her he would be driving through Durham on his way to a sales job and could meet her for dinner. I worried all night until she came home. I think she liked the idea of me worrying about her crossing the line to have sex with him, without my knowledge. But she kept to her self-appointed schedule. It was worse when he actually came to our area for two days during the week. He had to work days, but again took her out one night for dinner and the second to our local symphony. His willingness to play the dating game so skillfully, to take Amy to places and events that I had refused to do, really highlighted his romantic ability even more than ever. What hurt more was how Amy just giggled when I suggested I could take her out on 'dates' like that. She just told me, it wouldn't be the same, or suggested we do more 'girlfriend' events, like shopping or going to a spa. The humiliation I felt when he came to pick her up and I was dressed in my female finery was almost more than I could bear. Not only did it burn me to have him examine and praise my work to look so pretty for him, but I had begun to worry that neighbors would see his car in our driveway and he escorting out of our house. It would clearly look like she was dating another man. I fought back the only way, I knew how. Giving Amy extended pleasure using my mouth, and doing all the household chores to her exacting standards. I always felt better when she took the time to praise my work, or tell me I had done a wonderful job with my makeup, or that she thought I could go a bit tighter in my corset lacings. Somehow these things, which should have been negatives, were now the only positives I had to counter her increasing attraction to Charles and his masculine superiority over me. Amy's increasing demand that I embrace my femininity more completely led to some stressful days at work. The first time I wore all female clothes with my cute flats I felt like I was going to pass out. I had started out wearing just one or two things, girl's pants, a blouse, or one of my new blazers, accessorized first with matching jewelry and then with purses, that I described as man bags. Sherry always noticed and complimented me on my new clothes, but I could sense some surprise at how much I was changing my personal appearance. Her comment that I would love using a purse, because it allowed you to carry so many things without having unsightly bulges in your clothes made me blush because I knew it was true. So when I met her for lunch that day, after hiding behind my desk all morning, I could see her shock, although she tried to suppress it. I had on skin tight, pull on khaki pants, a sleeveless black mock turtleneck, and a long duster-type sweater in taupe that matched my sculpted edge flats and my clutch purse. Finally she smiled, asked if this was one of Amy's new looks for me, and told me it was cute when I nodded yes. As bad as this was, I knew it was one of the least feminine outfits Amy had picked for me. But it did break the ice at work. Sherry and the other female clerks were no longer surprised when I came to work in something feminine, including the peach outfit that Amy just loved on me. I had become immune to them seeing my feminized appearance including details like my smooth hairless calves in my Capri-length pants or my camisole straps under my blouses. And Amy finally pushed me to use some makeup too. At first, just foundation, to even out my skin tone. Then, a hint of lip gloss, or just a wisp of mascara. Finally she suggested I use what she called a 'daytime look', a sort of minimal application of all my products. These changes were too much for Sherry and the other clerks to ignore. We actually talked about them, where I bought my outfits, what brand they were, and how I found such cute shoes to match. Once I started wearing makeup, it was clear that I was fully embracing a more feminine image. Even though they didn't make a fuss about it, I could see how they looked at me differently, even Sherry. I was now more one of the girls than the only guy in our department. No one hesitated to tell me if they found a new clothes shop or if a store had a sale on the brand of makeup I used. The day of reckoning at home finally came. Amy told me that she had invited Charles to our house for dinner on Friday night. She wanted to show him what a lovely cook and housewife I had become. She gave me a detailed list of chores to have done by Thursday, so our home would be perfect. She also had made an appointment for me at my salon. Amy wanted my stubble gone, my nails to be redone and my hair to be styled. I was to be perfect for Charles's visit. She would be going to her salon too, as she wanted us to both be ready for him. I knew what she had in mind that it wasn't just dinner that Charles would get that weekend. I began to protest, and suggested that we might be going too far. Maybe we'd be better off if they just dated and wouldn't she have a better time if they went out like before? But Amy was insistent that it was time and she had made up her mind. She boldly reminded me that this whole thing was my idea originally. It was something I started but she felt like we needed to finish. Charles had opened her eyes to many things, ideas that I had secretly endorsed. Now it was time to see if those ideas made as much sense in reality as they did in fantasy. So I arranged a vacation day on Friday and prepared for my second trip to the salon. Although I had been here before, I was still anxious. Partly because of the way Amy insisted that I dress. I was in a pair of stretch Capris, light pink pull on style. I was wearing my pink lace thong, matching lace camisole and a sheer white, loose blouse. I had my purse, pink stone earrings, and strappy pink heels to finish my look. Even though they had seen me in panties before, and had done several feminine beauty treatments before I still felt like she was exposing me to more embarrassment. But I went as she wanted. The receptionist was different, but the woman doing my waxing was the same and she greeted me with a smile. I followed her and everything went as before, only quicker since I had only stubble to remove. I was also prepared for the minimal pain, so she could work faster without having to give me time to adjust. When she was done, she asked me to put on my panty and layback on the table. That puzzled me, but I did as she asked. She had been running a small item under some water and smiled as she turned to come to me. "Your wife's boyfriend sent me a temporary tattoo for you. He wants to see how they look so he can decide if they're right. Just lay still, while I press it on. They should be good for a few weeks before they fade, but will last longer if you don't scrub them hard when you bathe. I've got this one and one for your ankle. But if they fade faster, just come back to see me. He gave me several of these." She pulled down the front of my panty just a little and then pressed on a plastic wrap square for a few minutes, before peeling off the backing. I glanced down and wanted to cry. Located halfway between my navel and cock, there was a tattoo, a simple black spade, about an inch or so in size, with a white Greek symbol for beta inside. It was clearly to mark me as a beta male, a sort of property stamp I was to wear for Charles. The technician repeated the process on my ankle leaving me the same mark in a more visible location. "There that should do it. I imagine he'll like that and I'm sure he's given your wife a similar ones too. You can get dressed and go see the nail tech, she's expecting you." I could hear the smirk in the woman's voice, as the implication was clear that my wife was dating a black man, who wanted me to know my place going forward. I put on the rest of my clothes and then followed the lady to the nail station. It was clear that she too had spoken with Amy and knew what was to be done. I had to soak my feet and hands, after she had removed my old polish. After a few minute, she began to work on my toenails and I soon had a metallic watermelon pink color on them. Then she stared on my fingernails. Amy had insisted I let them grow and not cut them since my last visit, so they were longer. Looking at them, the tech commented offhand that they looked strong and should grow in nicely, saving me from having to use extensions. For now, she would give me a nice oval shape and polish. I watched, transfixed, as she filed them into a soft feminine look and then polished each one with the same pink as I had on my toenails. I wanted to protest, but knew she was only doing what Amy, and by extension, Charles wanted. After they dried, I moved to one of the styling chairs. The stylist, a young slim lady with a short Afro hair style, ran her fingers through my hair, checking out its texture and length. She was very friendly, keeping a soft conversation going the whole time. Amy had told her what she had in mind, and seeing my hair she was sure it would look marvelous. Stepping to the side, she began to mix up a slurry, which she soon applied all over my hair. Covering it with a plastic bonnet, she led me to an old fashioned hair dryer, where I sat as it was dropped over my head. It took about twenty minutes under this hood, before she came back. To pass the time, she handed me a magazine to read. Of course, it was a woman's fashion mag, with tips on the latest cosmetics, fashions, and beauty, even an article on why women should wax for their men. When she returned, we went to the shampoo area, and she washed out the solution and applied a conditioner. After a few minutes that was washed out as well. Because my hair was wet, I couldn't see the color, but knew something must have changed. Maybe Amy wanted me to be a blonde? It made me cringe inside. Once the conditioner was out, we went back to her station and she began to cut the wet hair. It wasn't like she was taking much length off, in fact, she said it was mostly trimming off split ends. But she did shape it more, layering the sides and back. The most cutting was along the front, where she combed it forward and trimmed the length by half. Once she had it cut, she used a blower and curling iron to style my hair. She had me facing away from her mirror, so I couldn't see what was happening. When she finally finished, she swiveled my chair around so I could see the final result. I sat there for a few seconds taking in my new image. To say I was stunned, would be an understatement. My old brunette hair color was now a vibrant, sultry auburn. It made me look entirely different, as it was much more noticeable. The color wasn't orange or bright red, but had a rich tone to it. Definitely a color I had never seen on a man's hair. But that wasn't the biggest change. Despite the minimal cutting, she had changed the way my hair looked entirely. I now had a fully feminine hair style, with bangs combed straight forward from the middle of my head. The remaining hair was combed back and to the sides, with a soft under curl at the ends. It all framed my face in a way that no man would do. The stylist went on and on about how great it looked, how the style was perfect for the shape of my face and emphasized my long, regal neck. My hair now had the sexy, flirty style that my wife would love. She told me that I looked great as a redhead and the color was a perfect complement to my light skin and green eyes. Objectively, I had to agree that it was a very pretty color and style, thoroughly feminine. That for me was the problem. Looking like this, no one would seriously consider me masculine in any way. Especially combined with my arched brows, polished nails, and soft smooth skin. By the time, I left to go home, I knew this weekend would be much more of change that I had even feared. It would likely be the start of a new life, for me and Amy. I just hoped, I could persuade her to allow me a few changes, like removing my nail polish and combing the bangs over to the side in search of a more masculine hair style for work. Just walking to me car, with a few by-standers checking me out, told me all I needed to know. I felt like everybody could see my small ankle tattoo and knew what it implied. The way my hair bounced as I walked in the wedge heels and the pretty glitteringly bits of color on my toes and fingers signaled a woman, even without the feminine clothes. I got in my car and started the drive home, but I could hardly keep my eyes off the pretty nails wrapped around the steering wheel, or the sexy redhead reflected in my rearview mirror. It was surprising I didn't wreck. Once inside, I listened to find out where Amy was, and I could tell she was moving around in the upstairs bedroom. She heard me as I started up the stairs and called for me to join her. When I got there, she was standing in a pair of heels, totally nude in front of the mirror. As I came in, she turned, a big smile on her face. I could see her makeup was done and she was ready to get dressed. She had bright red lips and nails, and her hair was pulled up on top of her head, in a mass of curls. What was also clear, she had waxed all her pubic hair, so she was totally smooth and soft. Sitting right above her slit and labia, a black spade tattoo, with a white capital Q inside. A quick look told me she had the similar tattoo on her ankle. My gut clinched, as she looked so sexy, so hot, but it was not for me. She, like me, had been claimed and marked by another man. But her focus was now on me. "Oh Robin you look so beautiful. I love your hair, it's the perfect color for you. And the style, it suits your face so well. I can't wait to see you after you're made up, you'll look gorgeous. But first strip, we need to get you ready and dressed. Plus I want to see how we look next to each other." I was numb now, so I did as she asked and soon we were both nude, she in her black pumps and me in my pink peep-toe pumps. Standing side by side, she clearly had the better body, more of an hourglass shape, wider hips, narrower waist and bigger bust. I looked like a slimmer, less developed version of her. We both had soft, smooth, hairless bodies, including our genitals. But mostly, I couldn't take my eyes off how our tattoos linked us, a duet for a dominant male. "Baby I want a picture of this, for Charles's page. But first I have a little gift for you." Amy went to her dresser and brought back a small square box, with a pink bow on it. I took it and slowly removed the bow and took off the top. As I looked in it, I quickly recognized the item inside. It struck me immediately with fear, I should have seen it coming, but I guess had hoped it wouldn't. Not waiting, a big smile on her face, Amy reached in and took it out. She held it in her palm, a small metal contraption. A contraption from hell. "Charles never said anything, but reading his page, I just knew you should be in chastity. He's very explicit about it. White males belong in chastity. Their small penises are suited for it. You won't have any use for yours, at least for this weekend and probably a lot longer. So I bought one for us. I searched and searched, until I found just the right one, the smallest I could buy. It should fit you perfectly. At first I thought he should put it on you, but then it made more sense for us to do it. I mean you put yourself in panties, started doing everything he wanted you to do. So why wouldn't you put your penis in chastity, too? Here let me unlock it and you can put it on." She turned the key and the device separated into two pieces. She handed me the metal ring, small and cold. I knew enough about them to know how it fit. My penis, seemingly resigned to it, never changed size or reacted to my touch. I opened the hinge at the bottom of the ring, put it behind my smooth sack and cock until it lay snug against my body and closed it so my genitals were trapped by it. While I held it in place with one hand, Amy gave me the cage and I began to work my penis into it with my other hand. I lined up the pins that fit into the ring, and the slot was aligned for insertion of the lock. Smiling, Amy slid the small lock in between the flanges on the ring and cage, turned the key to engage the lock and pulled out the key. She went to the dresser drawer and put the key in. Taking out a plastic bag she removed a long silicon tube with a metal tip. It was already lubricated. I could see it was an insert that went inside my penis and screwed tight to the end of the cage. Amy didn't hesitate, but reached between the bars of the cage, twisting my penis so the opening in my glans aligned with the opening in the cage. She slid it in, slow but steady. It felt so unnatural, so alien, a feeling unlike any I had experienced. But she soon had it all inside me and gently screwed the metal tip until it was tight against the cage. I looked up, she seemed ecstatic. "Oh darling, it is just as I imagined it would look. How does it feel? You should be able to pee cleanly with the insert, and the cage can be cleaned in the shower. There will be no reason to take it off at all. Charles will be so pleased. Let's take our picture for his page." Amy positioned us in front of the mirror, so she could see to take the selfie of our mid-sections. Looking at our reflection, I knew Charles would indeed be happy. We looked totally prepared for him. Her pussy was bare and available, a slight reflection between her lips as her excitement already showed. My penis barely visible inside its new home, my balls bulging tight against my sack, pinched between the cage and ring, so I couldn't take it off. Above both of them, his sign. A black cock queen and her beta sissy. This was just as he described it on his Tumblr page. This was how a white woman and a white male should be. There for the taking by a man. A black man of course, as there was no other in his world. Amy took two quick photos, showing them to me. They were close-up shots, between our belly buttons and thighs, focused on our tattoos and genitals. I watched in horror, as she posted one to his page. But worst yet, I knew he'd be here in a few hours. Charles would make this all real. Still smiling, basking in the afterglow of caging me, Amy looked at me and leaned in to lightly kiss me. More of a touch really, as she didn't want to smudge her lipstick. "We need to get dressed and you can start working on dinner. I figured we'd have a drink or two after he gets here, so you should have to time to cook while I get him settled in. I hope you don't mind, I think this weekend you should focus more on your domestic responsibilities and not be so social. After this first weekend, it may be less rigid. But for now, I want to be sure Charles knows that you are completely willing to assume the role he feels fits you best. Get your pink corset, and I'll lace you up. Then you should be able to finish dressing while I get ready." Resigned, I retrieved the pink corset. I hated wearing it, both because it restricted movement and after a while its tight grip produced a dull ache. But more than the physical impact, I hated it because it signaled my status as a submissive, who was willing to do anything to please my superiors. I worked it up my legs and with some difficulty over my new chastity device, until it settled in around my trunk. I put the large breast forms in the bra cups. Amy seeing I was ready, came over and began to tighten the laces. As she did, I reached in to pull up my little mounds of breast flesh. I didn't have much, but as she pulled the strings tighter, it forced what I had upwards. Since the forms filled the cups, my flesh puffed out the top and created a small valley of cleavage. When Amy had pulled the laces tight, a bit more than I had done before, she tied them off. I glanced down, but was disappointed. I had hoped it might cover my tattoo, but the white lace trim at the bottom was just above it. In fact it was centered perfectly, between the garter straps and lace. I worked the white stockings up my legs and attached them to the garters of the corset, making sure that the rear seam was straight. Hoping Amy would allow me to wear the matching panty, I looked around but it was not laid out. I decided to ask anyway. "Amy, where's the panty that matches my corset? I need it to finish dressing." I glanced at her, she had put on black thigh-high stockings and her red pumps. I knew she'd wear the short, backless red dress, likely with no other lingerie than her stockings. She had bought it on a shopping trip with Sherry as she loved red, but had yet to wear it for Charles. The open, sexy style was perfect for her role tonight, as was the tight controlling garment I was laced into. We were both dressed for our service to Charles. She didn't look at me, but responded. "You don't need a panty tonight sweetie. I want you to show Charles your new commitment. Your gift to him. If you wore a panty it would just be in the way." Being denied the last bit of modesty, I put my pink pumps back on and sat down to do my makeup. Usually I did all of it, but Amy told me she wanted to help with my eyes. So after I had done my foundation and blush, I let her take over. She skillfully glued my false lashes, thick and long, into place. Eyeliner covered their base, and edged the top and half of the bottom of my eyes extending it out in a cat-eye style. Amy used a mix of metallic green, whites, and darker green to cover my eyelids, and darkened my brows for more emphasis. When she was done, I was amazed. With my new hair color and style, my arched brows, and the coordinating eye makeup, my green eyes seemed to glow. They looked big and sexy, I would have been drawn to them, if I saw a woman like this. But they're were mine, a further example of how I was now more feminine, much more, than I was masculine. I finished out my face with a thick coating of pink lipstick that matched my nails and shiny lip gloss. Amy now had her red dress on and looked like she was dressed to fuck. The top molded to her breasts, highlighting their curves, hard nipples, and lack of a bra holding them. Her hem barely reached the top of her stockings and in back, the upper notch of her butt was visible. I could see how excited she was and ready for Charles. As I had converted my face into a female image by applying my makeup, it had struck me that this would be a life changing event. It could lead to a new, submissive life for me, a different relationship with Amy, or perhaps divorce, if it was too difficult to accept. Whatever happened, it was all out of my control now. That point was emphasized when Amy tied a pink ribbon around my neck. Hanging from it were the keys to my chastity cage. We headed downstairs, her to the living room and me to the kitchen. Over the past few weeks, Amy had supplied me with several aprons and I had gotten used to doing any housework, serving, or support in one. I had several that were thick, utilitarian cotton in a long full style for when I did serious cleaning or cooking. But I had several more, some full and others half-aprons, whose purpose was more for show. A sort of accessory, to my domestic role. I wanted desperately to wear a heavy apron, to cover my torso and the lingerie I wore. But mostly to cover my tattoo and chastity. But I knew better. While I cooked, I had a full apron, but it was light with embroidery and scalloped edges. Pretty, but it covered me from spills. I also had a sheer lace half apron laid out. I knew Amy would expect me to answer the door when Charles came and I would have to be wearing an apron that reflected my submissive nature. This one had a big flouncy bow in back, lace trim around the edges and pink roses embroidered over the sheer white material. It was wide, but short and I knew it would cover but not hide my most embarrassing issues. The meal was a simple one, but one a man like Charles would appreciate. Big steak, a mashed potato casserole, small salad and sourdough bread. All served with wine. I had resisted it when Amy told me the menu, both because I would not be allowed a steak and it meant going out on the deck to cook. Generally our deck was private, but the mere idea of being outside in my corset based lingerie was frightening. I knew one innocent look by a neighbor might change how I was seen forever by them. But I also realized if tonight went as Amy hoped, it might not matter. I was well on my way to being a feminized white sissy. If she found contentment and sexual satisfaction, then I would have to embrace my life or leave. The steaks were marinating, the salad was made, and the potato casserole was warming in the oven. I switched to my sheer hostess apron. I knew she would want one, so I brought Amy a full glass of rich red wine. Just as I gave it to her, we heard a car pull into our driveway. She looked at me and smiled. "Robin you look lovely. Charles will be pleased. Just do as I've trained you, and I'll be pleased too. This will be a night we'll never forget." I tried to remain positive at what she said, but my insides were churning. Fantasies are one thing, but reality is another. I was now faced with living my fantasy in a way I never imagined. I would be opening the door to a man, inviting him into my home to have my wife and to subjugate me. I had already gone further on this journey than I would have considered possible. The way Amy had embraced the ideas that Charles had put on his Tumblr page, had been my biggest surprise. It never really occurred to me that she might find this intriguing enough to pursue. Indeed, more than pursue, but implement. Seeing my partial reflection in the hallway mirror as I stood there waiting to let Charles in, confirmed how enthusiastic she was. An image of a sissified male, bound in corset and chastity, feminized as much as possible without actual surgical procedures, told me that Amy's desire for this was beyond what mine was. A quick glance at her told me that she was very anxious for this to be consummated. I imagined her desire for Charles and his impressive sexual presence was something she had resisted as long as she could. Now it was time. The doorbell from the front door prompted me to action. I opened it and saw Charles standing there, dressed in a sports coat, slacks, and nice shirt, as if he were coming to an office setting. He was half smiling, half smirking as he looked me over quickly. But his gaze looked past me to where Amy was sitting. It was clear he most desired her. My sissy status was only a means to get to that goal. A secondary reward that he would enjoy later, after the main event. It was another blow to my rapidly diminishing masculinity. All my sacrifices were mere window dressing. Giving up my life as a man was needed only so he could be my replacement with Amy. So he could be not only the main man in her life, but the only one. He strode past me toward her, as I closed the door. She had stood up and came to him. They embraced and he softly kissed her as they hugged. The sexual attraction was obvious, although they did no more than kiss and embrace. Finally, he broke off his kiss, wrapped his arm around Amy to pull her close and looked at her. "Amy I'm so glad to be here. You've been on mind constantly since I last saw you. I think we're going to have a wonderful time. You look fantastic. So pretty, so sexy, and so deserving of being with a real man. But I appreciate most, how you've taken your time to make this decision. It isn't something to do lightly. It is however, the right choice. That much is clear." "Thank you honey. I couldn't agree more. The further I went, the more I knew it was the best thing for us, for me, even for Robin. I have to admit, I don't think I could have waited any longer. You've been my focus so much, you dominated my every waking thought. That's what made these last steps so easy." They kissed once more. Charles did no more than pull Amy close again. But I saw her move her hand in almost a reflexive way to stroke and lightly cup the large bulge going down his left leg from his crotch. I knew she wanted his cock so badly that she would do anything he wanted to get it. My current appearance was evidence of that. As they broke their kiss again, she looked at me and then up at Charles again. "What do you think of Robin? Does she meet your requirements? I tried to make her as sweet, submissive, and feminine as possible. She's been such a good girl, so willing to change to please you." "I have to say, I am impressed. I've turned many a husband into a sissy but none have been as complete as Robin. I love her new hair color and style. That's a real statement of commitment, something that she'll have no choice but to share with the world. Your complimentary tattoos are nice as well. I think that sort of marking, of understanding your new life and roles in it, are an excellent sign for us. And then there is Robin's vow of chastity. I see that as her fully accepting as a white male, she is better served to abandon her last vestige of masculinity so she can become the girl she needs to be. I assume that key is for control of your chastity?" Charles had looked at the ribbon Amy had tied around my neck with the keys dangling from it. My throat and mouth were suddenly dry and it took me a few seconds to speak. "Um, yes. Yes Sir. Amy put it there." "Very good. But why don't you let me hold on to it? I wouldn't want you to lose it, would you? That would be a shame." I immediately felt my knees buckle and glanced at Amy. She was no help, but was smiling happily. I had expected her to keep my keys, if I were not holding them. I guess I hadn't thought Charles would take them. I wanted to suggest that it would be best if Amy kept them. "That's a wonderful idea. Thank you Charles. I wasn't sure what to do with them. I mean it wouldn't be very practical for Robin to keep his own keys, now would it. Go ahead and give our man your keys, dear." I felt trapped. Even though it had only been a few hours at most since Amy locked me up, I felt the chastity device was squeezing the life out of my penis. The way the hard metal pressed into my soft flesh made it seem so unforgiving. Plus, the long urethral tube inside of it made me feel like I was being invaded. But more than anything, it was the way the chastity reduced my penis and balls, my essential manhood, to something no more important than a little mouse in a trap. If Charles had the keys to this cage, then I would lose total control of my inner self, my masculinity, and my worth as any sort of man. I had vaguely thought, Amy might take it off later. But what would he do? These thoughts roared through my head. But my hands gave in and untied the ribbon around my neck. I held out the keys and Charles took them and put them in his pocket. "That's a good girl Robin. You know my rules for white males like you. It's best if you just forget about your little penis while you become the sissy your destiny calls for. Since you've given me control, how about you lift up your precious little apron and let me see it for real. I liked the photo Amy posted of you two, but I want to inspect my property a little closer." My nightmare was continuing, but only getting worse. I could feel my face turn warm, and I knew it had to be flushed. But I lifted up the apron, so Charles could see my penis, compressed in the tiny chastity. Above it was the incriminating tattoo, seemingly bigger than my penis itself. To my shock, he reached out, wrapping his large hand around my cage. Tugging and then bouncing it in his hand, made me flush more. I felt like I was somewhere else, someone else. This couldn't be real. Then I heard a soft giggle and turned to look at Amy. She was grinning broadly, her hand over her mouth. "Sorry. But it looks so small, so delicate in Charles's hand. I mean he can hide the whole thing in it." "It seems to fit well enough. I thought from the photo it might be too small, but it is just right apparently. I do like the tattoo even better in person. This is definitely what I had in mind for you. I'm sure I'll like Amy's just as much. I'll give it a closer inspection later. But for now, this will do. I see Amy's drinking a glass of wine, why don't you bring me one too." I almost felt sick to my stomach as I went to get his wine. When I gave it to him, I just couldn't give up without a fight. I knew if I wanted to change things I had to let him know how I felt. When we were first starting our relationship, Charles had been very receptive to my questions and inquires. I had to go for it. "Sir, if I may, I really would like to dispense with this chastity device. I mean, it seems good for show, but it's not totally comfortable. The way it compresses me but at the same time opens me up, just is so unnatural. I get the purpose, but I guarantee that I will be just as obedient without it on. You won't have to worry about me going too far with Amy either. Over the past few weeks, I grown accustomed to being in panties, to being tucked, and to essentially keeping my penis under control that way. I would much prefer to go back to that. Do you think you could see your way to letting me do that again?" Charles had listened at me at first with a perturbed look on his face, but it transitioned to a knowing smile. "I hear you Robin and understand. It will take some time to adjust to something as new as a chastity device. I do realize how much you love wearing panties, being as soft and small down there as you are. You certainly have a physical aptitude for them and I agree that you look much more pleasing that way. I do think wearing a chastity device makes a certain point, so I think you'll need to bear with it for the time being. But I will make this promise. I'll get you to where you don't need one any more as quickly as I can. I would love nothing better than to know that having your penis in panties is as effective as in a chastity cage, okay?" I felt better, although I still wished the removal would be immediate. I thanked him and began to make final arrangements for dinner while he and Amy talked. I glanced out of the kitchen occasionally and could see both the desire and connection building. I had steeled myself and went out on our deck to start the grill. When I came back in, my heart racing from the potential exposure, I heard Charles call for me to come see him. "What are you cooking little girl?" "I have steak, a potato dish and salads for you two. I thought you'd appreciate a nice cut of meat." "Well I do, but I think you're not quite up to that challenge. Grilling is for men. I've always cooked my own steaks at home and I will here too. Why don't you refill our glasses, bring the steaks out for me to cook and you can stay in the kitchen where you belong? Amy and I can enjoy the nice evening while I grill." I flushed again at his insinuation that I wasn't man enough to grill meat. But I took their glasses, while they got up and went outside. I immediately began to worry about how the image of the two of them would look if any neighbors saw them. Their attraction for each other was very obvious. From subtle signs like how close they stood together, to light touches they exchanged, to his arm around her waist, and even an occasional kiss, it would be clear that they were romantically linked. I couldn't decide what would be worse, someone seeing me dressed as a girl or them as a couple. I just did as ordered and wished that they would not be noticed. When he brought the steaks inside, I served the rest of the meal. Although I sat at the table with them, eating my salad, it was as if I weren't there at all. Their conversation focused on each other, exchanging information about what had happened since their last date, making plans for new activities and generally being intimate. The only time I entered the conversation was if Amy referred to some aspect of my feminization or talked about how I had begun to express my female self at work. At these moments, I could see Charles's satisfaction. I think as much from Amy's involvement in my transformation as my actual changes. Her actions signaled a total buy in of the idea of me being a sissy and him assuming the role of the man in her life. It wasn't as if she didn't care for me, more like she was seeing me in a new light. As they finished eating, and stood up to let me clear the table, I could see they were focused on the next phase of the evening. Charles was ready to take this to a more intimate stage, but maybe not as much as Amy was. Finally the moment had come. They were sitting on the couch, very close to each other. Amy leaned over and kissed Charles, passionately. She broke the kiss, but stayed near his face. "I need you, badly. I've waited as long as I can. Let's go upstairs." Charles kissed her back, and ran his hand over her body. He stood up, taking her by the hand to help her off the couch. They stood by each other, but rather than leave, he turned toward the kitchen. "Robin come here a minute." I heard him and stopped putting the dishes in the washer. I wiped my hands as I went to the living room. I knew what was likely to come next, but wasn't sure what my role would be. I stopped in front of the happy couple. Charles reached into his pocket and took out his car keys. "Robin, I need you to get my luggage from the trunk of my car. You can take the bigger suitcase to your laundry as I have dirty clothes I want you to do for me. But the smaller overnight bag can go upstairs to our bedroom. I want you to join us up there. But first, get yours and your wife's phone and bring them here." His orders sent my heart racing. First it was clear he wanted to expose me, in my sissy attire, outside. I was just glad it was dark. But I wasn't sure what he wanted our phones for. Also, the implication of me joining them in 'their' bedroom worried me. But I followed his orders and got the phones. As I approached, he put his hands on Amy's shoulders, and began to slide her dress down. It fell around her ankles, leaving her with nothing on but her stockings and heels. I could see her bare pussy was already glistening, as she was obviously excited. He took the phones from me, with a wicked grin on his face. "Amy, I know you've been anticipating this moment for a long time, but now it is here. I want you to kneel down in front of me, unzip my pants, and take out my cock. Robin take off your apron, and stand next to Amy. I want her to hold my cock and your sissy clit, so I can take a photo of the comparisons. I don't want these posted, but I do want you to use them as the screen background for your phones. That way every time you make a call, check your social networks, or use it in any way, you'll be reminded of why you are where you are. Why you need to follow my rules, to obey what I tell you to do, and submit to my authority. I want Amy to have something to look at when I'm not here, something to encourage both of you to follow this process through to its logical conclusion." We did as he told us, Robin's eyes lighting up and a big smile on her face. I could literally see her excitement growing as small beads of liquid appeared on the opening of her nude pussy lips. She wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock, and it responded to her touch. I was silent as I saw it grow in her hand. I knew he was large, from the videos, but in person it look so much bigger, thicker, imposing. I realized from the way Amy looked at it, that she'd never desire to feel my penis in her again. Not that I could blame her. She knelt there, nude, her breasts rising as she breathed excitedly, as she held his long cock out with one hand and lifted up my tiny, caged cock in the palm of her other hand. The contrast couldn't be any more striking. One cock, easily nine or ten inches, dark, and thick clearly a sexually dominant organ. The other cock, small, about an inch, a pale pinkish white, soft, and curled up in a tiny metal cage, a non-threatening, asexual organ as possible. One was the organ of a man and the other was closer to a woman's clitoris than a penis. Charles took a couple of photos with each phone. They were all very similar. Amy smiling as she held them next to each other, her breasts and nude body forming the backdrop for the visual comparison. I knew Charles was right. Every time I would use my phone, my inadequacies and his superiority would be there. I would not escape the reminder of how feeble I was in comparison. It would leave no doubt about which one was a man and which was a sissy. Charles's Tumblr definition of black equal man and white equal sissy would be constantly imprinted in me. It was another reminder of how he fit the definition of a man. It wasn't just his physical attributes. He was confident but gracious, dominant but restrained, decisive but receptive, and romantic but strong. I had none of those qualities. In any situation I couldn't be counted on to display any of those characteristics associated with being masculine. I would prefer to defer to someone else and do as I was told. So after I made the photos our screen image, I went outside and got Charles's luggage. My pulse was pounding and my eyes darted around. Luckily, I saw none of my neighbors outside and the lighting by his car was low. I knew it was possible that someone could see me from a house, especially in the light from his trunk as I opened it, but I took it as the best option I had. Inside I placed the big suitcase near our laundry room and carried the smaller bag up toward our bedroom. By now, my guts were clinched tight, so tight it seemed that my corset was secondary. My cock was also affected, shrinking up so small that it barely rubbed against the metal rings on the end of my cage. I dreaded what I might see in the bedroom, the room with the master bed now claimed by Charles. When I got to the door, it was shut. Trembling and afraid to make the wrong move, I lightly knocked. It was a clear an acknowledgement of who was the man in the house as there could be. It was an acknowledgment that this was his bedroom now, not mine. The new man of the house told me to come in. I opened the door slowly, my face blushing from my acknowledgement of the transfer of power. But I was more shocked by what I saw. Both Charles and Amy were naked. He stood by our bed, and she knelt in front of him. Her mouth was wrapped around his cock, slurping sounds reflecting how she eagerly sucked on it. It was a cruel sight, because early on in our dating, Amy told me she didn't like to suck cock, so she never really did it for me. Now it looked like she couldn't get enough as she was licking and trying to swallow as much of his length as she could. He motioned for me to put his bag on the dresser, a confident smile crossing his face. As I stepped forward to put the bag down, my legs sheathed in stockings and garters, I caught Amy's eyes. She glanced toward me momentarily, but was so entranced by the huge cock in her mouth, that she refocused on it almost immediately. Her disinterest in me cut like a knife. "Very good Robin. I don't know what you expected to happened, whether you thought you could watch or even participate. But tonight, it's just me and your wife, although you may kneel and listen outside our door. You will sleep in the guest room, as this is now my space. Eventually, I will allow you to see how a man makes love to a sexy woman, but not tonight. Amy's focus will only be on me and appreciating all that I can give her. Your presence would just be a distraction. But you can be useful, I want you to do my laundry, including ironing all my shirts and pants. I expect you to be up when we wake in the morning, you may slip in here to get dressed and made up, if you are quiet. But before you go, we need to firmly establish the new dynamic in the house and our relationships. Please kneel next to your wife." I felt ashamed and scared, at seeing my loving wife so enamored with another man's cock. Hearing Charles describe it so clearly emphasized how I had totally abandoned Amy to him and accepted being a sissy too. But I couldn't help myself, and did as he told me to do. Kneeling beside her, I saw how excited she was, with her pussy juice shiny as it ran down her thighs. As I settled in, Charles put one hand on my head and one on hers. "Amy I want you to do something for me. Take my cock from your mouth and guide it into Robin's mouth. You are to help him cross the boundary from man to sissy. I want you to see him suck another man's cock, so there will be no doubt about whether he is a man any more. Eventually I'll train Robin to suck my cock and receive my cum, but now I just want you to push him over the edge into full sissy mode." Charles tapped her head. Amy pulled back, holding his now glistening cock in her hands. It seemed so big when it was up close, and I could see it twitch as she moved it to me. She smiled as if this was a priceless moment and I guess it was. She placed his big cock head on my lips and whispered to me to open up. I had to close my eyes, but did as she said. With my mouth open, Amy began to push his cock into my mouth. Once his glans was past my lips, Charles pushed my head forward with his hand, so more and more of his cock entered my mouth, and then the opening to my throat. It felt huge inside me, and his cock seemed to possess me. I stretched my mouth open as wide as I could, not wanting my teeth to scrape him. I felt helpless as he shoved more of it down my mouth. Finally, as his cockhead started down my throat, it triggered a gag reflex. Sensing that he stopped but left it where it was. By now I had started breathing through my nose and felt like I was close to choking. I opened my eyes to see Amy beaming. She ran her fingers softly over my face. "Isn't it wonderful? I never imagined a cock being so big, strong, and magnificent. I can't wait to feel all of its power. I know you'll come to love it too." "I'm impressed Robin. You took in a lot of my cock for the first time. I think you'll become an expert cocksucker and I'll train you to deep throat me, so you can fully experience the excitement of pleasing me. I trust you realize your new role. From now on, I expect full obedience to me and support of your wife as she seeks to please me in every way. I knew from the first time we talked online, that you realized the natural order of things. Black men are at the top, women deserve to be pleased by them, and white sissies are best suited to serve. Don't worry about your old life, just accept your new one. Eventually you'll realize that being a sissy is your true destiny. You'll be proud of your new place in life and that before you were merely role playing as a man. I think you've had enough of a taste. Amy you can go back to sucking my cock now and Robin you're free to do your domestic chores." While he talked, I breathed rapidly, both from the difficulty of having a monster cock in my throat and the excitement of what was happening. I hated to admit it, but for some reason this was both thrilling and humiliating at the same time. My penis had stiffened up in its cage, as much as it could, as soon as Charles used his hand to force me down on his cock. Some pre-cum, an indicator of my excitement, leaked from my tiny cock to coat the end of my cage. It was also clear to me that I would be good at sucking him. Even my initial gag reflex calmed down as I swallowed once or twice. I was pretty sure I could have taken him further down my throat. But I was too embarrassed to show him that now. Maybe if Amy wasn't watching. It hurt my pride to hear him describe me as a sissy. That white men weren't really men at all. But given my position, dressed in women's lingerie, my penis caged in a chastity device, kneeling before him with his cock in my mouth, and my nude wife waiting for him to sexually use her, it was pretty accurate. It was also evident that Amy couldn't wait for it either. Her smile broadened when Charles told her she could continue to suck his cock. She eagerly pulled it from my mouth and seemingly inhaled it as fast as she could. With my mouth now empty, but his taste lingering in me, I stood up to do as he ordered. I wasn't sure if I was glad that I couldn't watch, as I had bounced between secretly hoping to see her take his big cock and then wishing they would break up, over the weeks that they dated. Even now I considered kneeling outside the door to my old bedroom to hear them fuck, but I felt like I should do his work first. Plus I knew it would be like torture to hear her and not see what was happening, all while my penis swelled in its cage and me unable to give it relief. It was best that I go to another part of the house. The next few hours were among the worst I've ever experienced. Doing his laundry was a constant reminder of my new station in life, but it was worse knowing that my wife, the love of my live, was likely being practically split open by his huge cock. I knew she would never feel anything from mine again, after experiencing his. I also knew she had to have seen me in a totally different light, as I knelt beside her, swallowing another man's cock. But worse of all, was the damned chastity cage. All these thoughts were totally humiliating to me, but also unbelievably exciting. I so wanted to jerk off, to release some of this erotic tension. But I had no relief. So my mind was forced to focus on them, in our bed, making love. I also was forced to examine my own desires, as this situation was totally of my own doing. If I had never listed myself as one of his followers, had not responded to his online contacts, had not bought the panties, shaved myself, set up the date with a black couple, etc., etc. Then I would not be standing in my laundry room, trussed up in a corset and chastity cage, branded with a tattoo showing my ownership by another man, a black man, doing his laundry while he fucked my wife. I had no one else to blame but myself. As I thought about it, how could I have expected Amy to do any less than what she did? I mean, at every turn, I gave her all the reasons to want to be with Charles and to lead me to my new life. How was she responsible for me wanting to try this new lifestyle? Finally, all the work done and mentally exhausted, I went to the guest room, which was now my room. I undressed, removing it all, but the one thing I wanted to take off the most, my chastity cage. I crawled into bed and surprisingly fell asleep easily. The buzz of the alarm I had set, woke me up. Groggily, I wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. But I was fearful of not being up and ready to serve Charles. I had seen how completely he was going to take control of Amy and me, but hadn't seen if he had a mean side. So far, he had been measured, in control, and shown no sign he would be physically hurtful. So I didn't want to cross him or give him any reason to discipline me. I realized I was soft and submissive enough to just do as he told me to do without protest. I quietly crept down the hall to the master bedroom. I could hear them breathing, softly, in their sleep. I went in and gathered my clothes for the day, being as quiet as I could. I wasn't quite sure what he would allow me to wear, so I opted for a simple dress, heels, lingerie, and accessories. Getting dressed and doing my makeup took me back to the confused world I had inhabited the past 24 hours. I was excited about dressing as a girl, but I knew it put me firmly in the inferior status of a sissy, a pale comparison to the real man sleeping next to my wife. I had been quick in the closet, choosing what to wear, because I felt like I was sneaking in somewhere I didn't belong. Because of that uneasiness, I had chosen an outfit I knew Amy liked. I was a little concerned because it was very feminine and I had no idea what we would do today. But I would cross that bridge when we came to it. I had quickly put on my lingerie, a matching set, of course, in a lovely baby blue. The bra was a soft cup lace big enough for my breast forms, the garter belt was also lace, but the panty really made the set. It was a full brief style that came to my waist. Sheer fabric in front, it allowed my tattoo and chastity to be seen, but the rear was covered by rows of lace. It had the look of a young girl's panty or that of a playful maid. With sheer taupe stockings and an ankle strap heels, it gave me a very feminine appearance. The dress was a sleeveless fit and flare style. Tight across the bodice but with a billowy skirt, it helped with my female illusion by suggesting broader hips, a narrow waist and full bust. The background color was baby blue, matching my lingerie, and decorated with large white flower silhouettes. I stood in front of the mirror in the guest bath to do my makeup. It was similar to yesterday's, only with blue eye shadows instead of green. I had gotten good enough that I made up my face quickly. It helped that I had left my false lashes on, as I usually did over the weekends. Luckily, my hair didn't need much more than a quick comb, as the hair spray had helped hold its style overnight. I added earrings, bracelet and necklace all with blue stone decorations. Once I was dressed and took a final look to be sure everything looked okay, it struck me. I was sneaking around my own house, like a mouse. Trying to be quiet but efficient. So I could get dressed as a girl to be ready to serve a man who was even now sleeping in my old bed with my wife. A man who held the key to my manhood which was locked away and unavailable to me or my wife. A man who had not stolen my life or my wife, but had them given to him by me. I felt my face flush, a light pink visible even with my foundation. How had I ever thought this was a good idea? I stood there for more than a few minutes, staring at myself, wondering about my life choices. Berating myself for my weaknesses that led to this. Crushing my ego because I lacked the courage to change anything, even at this point. I had to shake those distressing thoughts from my mind, or I would be useless. I had to admit I was a sissy for him by my own choosing. My thoughts had also delayed my plans for the morning. I wanted to get our paper so it would be on the table for Charles if he wanted it. But the delay meant the sun was beginning to rise over the horizon, which would make me more visible. Before when I went outside to get it, I had put on a coat to give me some cover. But that wouldn't help now, because I was wearing heels, with a billowy skirt, had a women's hairstyle, and my face was made up, like any woman. Plus any more delay meant more sunlight. So I just went ahead. Walking as fast as my heels would allow, I sprinted to our mail box, grabbed the paper and started my return to the house. I had seen one neighbor out already, a few houses down, but probably too far to recognize me. But as I turned to go back, a car passed by our house. I could only hope they didn't get a good look at me. Back inside, my heart racing, I began to prepare for breakfast. The whole time, cussing myself for not being man enough to change how this weekend was going. It didn't help that my penis, trapped in its cage, was throbbing. It reminded me I hadn't gone this long without an orgasm in years. I tried to focus on what I needed to do and not think as it was only delaying me. In the kitchen, I carefully put on my apron. Amy had gotten it specifically for this dress. It was sheer white with blue embroidered flowers, a short of reverse design of my dress. It pinned on, at the waist and shoulders, rather than use apron ties, so putting it on took some time. Once I was pinned, I started breakfast prep. I set the table, using our good china and placed the folded paper next to the chair at the head of the table. Where I used to sit and where I assumed Charles would be from now on. I wasn't sure what he would want, so I cut up some fruit, made fresh biscuits with the oven ready to bake them, brewed a special blend of coffee, and got out eggs for omelets and either bacon or sausage as the side. Even these simple tasks that I did every weekend emphasized how my life had changed. I knew what I liked. I knew what Amy liked. But now, my primary concern was how to please Charles. The new man in our life, well really, the only man in our life. I had abdicated my standing in that fraternity, switching sides to join a sorority of sissy sisters. Even Amy was not part of my group, as she was a real woman. I on the other hand, was somewhere in between. It didn't help that I suddenly had to pee. Squatting down on the toilet, my sheer panty at my knees, my dress and apron bundled at my waist, I began to relieve myself. It felt odd, my pee coming through the small diameter tube of my chastity, metered so it took so much longer. It reinforced how limited I was now, how even simple acts like relieving myself emphasized that I was a controlled person, no longer free. The insert did keep me cleaner but it seemed so wrong, to have something up inside my penis, extending toward my bladder but melded to my locked chastity. I tried to take solace in the promise Charles made, that he would hasten my return to wearing just panties. As I sat there, I wondered if there was some way I could demonstrate my obedience to speed up the process. Before pissing was quick, but now it seemed I sat there forever. Finally finished I dabbed some tissue at the end, delicately, like a girl does, and then stood up to pull up my panty. I suddenly needed to hurry, as I could hear our shower running. That meant my wife and her lover were awake. I should be ready to greet them when they came down. I washed my hands quickly, the pretty nails showing me further that I was more girl than man. I suddenly felt anxious. Anxious about my appearance. Anxious about any plans for the day. Just anxious. My stomach was tumbling. But I busied myself in the kitchen and checked my appearance in the bathroom mirror. Not once, but twice. Making sure my nylons were taut, my panty tight against my cage pulled fully to my waist, my makeup perfect, my hair in place, and my apron still firmly pinned to my dress. I looked at everything, more as a distraction than anything else. Finally I heard their footsteps coming down the stairs and on the tile as they entered the kitchen. I was stuck first by Amy's appearance. Her face seemed to glow. A glow of satisfaction, perhaps just due to my imagination, more than reality. But it seemed like she was radiating more confidence and a sense of completeness than before. She had pulled her hair back in a simple ponytail and her makeup was her usual daytime look, with soft colors on her eyes and lips. She was also wearing a plain cotton eyelet romper. An item that she normally wouldn't wear. Amy had bought it on an impulse. Found it in the juniors' department. A design more crafted for a young girls body. A body without the development that she had. The romper fit tightly to her body, molded up top to her breasts, thin enough so you could see her lace bra and a hint of her dark nipples. Below, the romper crept up her crotch. The pant legs were short, showing off the lower half of her butt cheeks and you could see the outline of her thong stretched tight across her pussy. She told me that it made her feel sexy but she couldn't bring herself to wear it once she brought it home. I had only seen it on a hanger. Now she paraded around in it like it was something she always wore. She also had on white wedge heels, but no hose. A summer outfit for a leisurely day. Charles's look was different too. I had only seen him in business attire. But now he had on basketball shorts and a tight sleeveless t- shirt. A very casual look that emphasized his muscular arms and chest as well as his prominent bulge. His sneakers were an expensive pair designed by a pro playe and coordinated with the colors of the Golden State Warriors of his shirt and shorts. Again, a look that a man would wear if he was enjoying a summer day off. Their causal look immediately caused me to worry. My outfit was much dressier, from the heels and hose to the polished look of my dress. I felt like I should apologize or say something. But I needed to tend to their needs first. "Good morning, Sir. Would you like some coffee or something to drink? I'm ready to make you breakfast too, as soon as you want." I cringed as soon as I said it. I don't know why, I had called Charles sir before. He hadn't instructed me to do it and we had been on first name basis since we started interacting. But it was the way I said it, as if I had used that term for him my whole life. If they noticed, no one said anything. They both wanted coffee. I brought the carafe and poured each a cup. I thought maybe now was a good time to mention my outfit. But Amy beat me to it. "Robin I love that dress on you. It flatters your figure just right. You know I was hoping you'd wear it this weekend. I assume you're wearing the matching baby blue lingerie?" I hesitated a second, but after giving Charles respect by calling him sir, I felt I should be respectful to my wife as well. "Thank you Madam, it's nice of you to say so. I am wearing the coordinating pieces but I sort of feel like I'm overdressed. You two look much more casual, I feel silly looking so formal. I'm sorry I didn't realize what I should wear. I felt odd to tell the truth, sneaking in to the closet to get something to wear while you two were asleep. So I just grabbed an outfit I knew Madam liked. I can go change into a more casual outfit, like shorts and a tee, if you want." I glanced over at Charles when I said the last part. I wanted him to know I was trying to please, but also that I still had some men's wear I could put on. But he seemed more interested in the paper, finally looking up at me. "No, you did the right thing. I'm sure you realize that the exact outfit you wear isn't important to me, as long as you follow my guidelines. For now, that means skirts or dresses, heels, and proper girls underwear. You have to distance yourself from your old masculine identity and embrace your new femininity. That's what good sissies do. The less you wear pants and other male clothing the more you'll feel like the real girl you are meant to be." "I agree with Charles. You made a safe choice in this outfit. You knew I wanted you to wear it for him this weekend, so today is a good a time as any. Plus you do look so darling in it. I think baby blue is such a pretty color for you. But you have to show him your matching panty. I mean, I loved it as soon as I saw it in the store. It just reflects the perfect image you are trying for now. Lift up your skirt." The tone of her last sentence sent a shiver up my spine. It didn't seem like a request but more like an order. I didn't want to argue, so I did as she told me to, lifting up my dress to reveal my underwear. Knowing she'd want him to see it all, I turned to show Charles the rows of lace across the butt, after he'd had an opportunity to see both my chastity and beta tattoo through the sheer front of my panty. "See what I mean Charles? I think this kind of lacy panty is just right for Robin. It has the look of a panty a young girl would wear. If a grown woman wears something like this, it is to play a role for her man. A sort of sexy plaything. I think that is what you want Robin to learn, that she has to always dress to show how she is becoming more feminine and accepting that as a white male, being a sissy is her destiny. So you definitely, did the right thing today Robin. But how about you make us something to eat? Maybe one of your delicious custom omelets? I mean, I think you've given Charles enough of a show of how you've embraced being a sissy, don't you?" "I agree, I'm starving after last night. Besides, I want to get out and stretch my legs. That walk you talked about before, is just what I had in mind. We can go after breakfast, Amy." "Of course Sir. I planned omelets, with bacon, sausage and fresh biscuits. I can serve fruit too, if you want. I'll get right on it. But what is this walk you mentioned?" "Oh Robin, that's my idea. Charles asked about our neighborhood and when he mentioned getting out a bit when we were waking up this morning in bed, I suggested we go down the walking trail to the gazebo at the lake. You know it's so pretty this time of year. And it's an easy stroll, not a big deal at all. But that way he can see how our neighborhood is laid out. By the way, I would like some fruit. You can bring it out before you cook our eggs, and please freshen my coffee." Again, I noticed how Amy was being curt, sort of giving me orders, rather than a request. I didn't know if this was something she picked up from the way Charles talked to me or not. But what really caught my attention was their plan for a walk. It really worried me for several reasons. First, our neighborhood was a typical older North Carolina suburb type, with mostly white residents. Not that it was intentionally segregated, but I think there were only a few black or Hispanic neighbors. So, Charles would catch people's attention, especially as he would be walking with a white woman. But it was more how Amy was dressed. The romper was very skimpy and showed a bit too much for my taste. Even worse, I could see the incriminating ankle tattoo. Anyone looking close might figure out what was happening. The idea they would be advertising their relationship, and by implication, mine was scary. Especially combined with how far Amy was taking my feminization. If Amy was suddenly hanging around with a hunky black man while I began looking more like her sister than her husband, it would be very obvious what was happening. The thought that this role play was getting so out of hand made me anxious. These thoughts raced through my head as I hurried to cook and serve them breakfast. I felt totally out of the loop, as they softly chatted and exchanged touches and looks. Like any new lovers would. They both complimented me on my cooking and Amy totally bragged to Charles about how good I am at most of the domestic chores around her house. The way she said it was a very backhanded compliment. Sort of she's good at it, but she should be since she's so femme. While Amy praised my instinctive femininity, Charles touched me. He had developed an unnerving habit of running his big hand up my leg, sliding over my stocking until he reaches the edge of my panty. Where he either slides one finger under the elastic and tugs at it, or softly cups my ass just where the lace ruffles run across it. Either way, it sends goosebumps up my back and causes me to blush. I'm sure it looks odd too, as I try to wiggle my ass away from him. It also keeps me so off-guard that I can't think of any way to dissuade then from the leisurely walk in our neighborhood. When Amy finishes, she stands up, the romper firmly wedge up her ass. "Honey, let me go brush my teeth and touch up my lipstick, then we can go for our walk." A simple declarative sentence that stung me, as it is directed at her lover not me. We're not halfway through the weekend and I regret it more and more. As Amy goes upstairs, Charles slides his hand between my legs from behind. He grabs my chastity clad penis, shakes it and then begins to lightly squeeze my small balls. Just enough hurt to fully get my attention. "God what an ass, especially for a white girl. I had a real nice time last night fucking your wife, Robin. She was insatiable, couldn't get enough of my cock. It was like she was a virgin who'd never had a dick in her pussy before. Given your size, that might be more true than not. But thanks for being smart enough to realize she needs a man. A sissy is nice, like she said you're a natural domestic, but every woman needs a man who can make her squeal and squirm like a little girl. I've flipped more than a few couples in my life, but so far you two are the best. Amy is very pretty, smart, fun to be with, and has an engaging personality. But most of all, she seems too really want to be a slut for black cock. At some point when we were in our dating phase, the looks and stares she got from other whites, especially women, for being with a black man began to turn her on. She felt like a rebel, probably for the first time in her life. She also felt a release of her inner sexuality that she had held in with you after marriage. My guess is she felt like she needed to be a 'proper wife' and not express her needs. With me, as a 'bad' man, she feels free to let go and openly show her sexuality. By the time this weekend is over, she will be thoroughly free. The best thing is however, not only is Amy hungry for sex, but you've got great potential as a very fem sissy, and she's very willing to convert you. Most of my cuckold husbands weren't as feminine as you and none of their wives were as willing as Amy to push them to being as much of a woman as she has with you. I mean just your hair style alone is proof. No way can you be seen as masculine with that. Plus the way your brows are shaped. All that is due to Amy, as I didn't require those changes. She did. The final piece is this tiny chastity device. It's true I like my sissies in one, but again I hadn't asked you to do it. Amy just took it as the natural state for you. I can't imagine that she'll ever let you go back to being a man again. At least as long as I am here. And I plan on being here for a while." Charles had been squeezing my balls all the time he was crushing my spirit. I don't know which hurt worse. As he finished, Amy came back down the stairs, smiling and obviously as happy as she'd been in years. Probably since we've been married. I felt lost and confused. I loved seeing her this way, as making her happy has always been my goal. But knowing how she got there was gut wrenching. Imagining what was to come was even scarier. On top of all that was how I felt. Despite the idea of 'losing' Amy to Charles, to giving up my masculinity, and to accepting a submissive life, I felt more alive than I had in years. It seemed Charles was right that I was almost destined to be a sissy. But could I be strong enough to endure the process to become one? When he finally moved his hand, quit squeezing my balls, rather than relief, I felt a sense of loss. I was becoming as addicted to his touch and control as Amy was. "Look. I almost forgot to put it on. Robin, Charles gave me a lovely gift, this pretty little ankle bracelet. I just love how it looks, see?" Amy lifted her leg to show me his gift. It was a gold chain, with each link cut so they reflected light almost like a jewel. It was designed to draw attention as it sparkled. Of course, the ankle Amy had put it on, was the one with her Black Queen tattoo. It draped right across the small bone bump in the middle of her ankle and right below her tattoo. If I needed any more proof of what Charles had told me was true about how Amy felt 'released' and 'rebellious' about being with a black man, this was it. I could see it shine with every step, which would lead anyone to glance down where they would see her ownership tag of the big man beside her. After their leisurely stroll to the lake in our commons area, her relationship status would be as well-known as if she'd put it on the ubiquitous social site. But all I could do, was smile, tell her that it did indeed look lovely, and despite feeling ashamed of my inability to fight back against him, thank Charles for giving her such a nice gift. He just smiled, he knew I was too much of a sissy to resist. "Robin, while we are gone I want you to do some chores for me. I assume you did my laundry as I ordered. So you can go ahead and hang them in the master closet. My other things can be put in drawers in the dresser of the bedroom. It makes more sense for me to keep some of my clothes here, as Durham is so convenient for much of my business travel. It will make it much easier to stop here, spend the night, as I do my work rather than be in a lonely hotel. Given the change in your status, you need to move your dresses and outfits out of my closet. Your pretty undies too. For now, you can put them in the guest room. That way you won't have to come into our bedroom, unless you're needed. Amy thought it would be better that way, right honey?" "Yes. I mean, I still want you close. But it's not fair to Charles to have someone else sleep in his bed when he's not here. It's just common courtesy. I think we both know you have a new spot, anyway." She glanced over at the couch. The couch where I had been kneeling recently between her legs to give her oral attention. "After last night, I think the bed belongs to Charles. That reminds me. I want the bed stripped and you can put on new sheets. I think when Charles is here, it would be a good idea to put on new ones every morning. Also don't forget your makeup, you'll need all of it in your room from now on." She sort of giggled as she said this and then stepped to him, wrapping her small white fingers around his big bicep. "Be sure and iron the sheets, too. I want everything perfect for tonight. Charles agreed you could be in our bedroom. I think that will help you understand why he's the man of the house now." "I think we should go now Amy. I don't want to rush our walk, as I'm eager to meet some of the neighbors and get a feel for everything. When we get back, we can get changed to go to the Art Museum and then dinner." Charles stood up and they left. I could see them walking down the sidewalk toward the entrance to the greenway trail that led to the central commons area and the small lake. They were holding hands, like new lovers do. Being a Saturday, I was sure lots of people would be outside. There was no way, at least some of the people that knew us would not see Amy and Charles. It made me feel like I had fallen off a cliff and would soon crash down to earth. In many ways this felt like the biggest mistake of my life. Maybe one I couldn't get over. But even as I found myself swirling in all these depressing thoughts, I felt my penis swell in its cage. The pain from Charles squeezing my balls had gone and I was left with a rush of desire. As humiliating as this was becoming, I couldn't deny that it was an erotic adventure. The conflicting sentiments about my situation confused me. I decided to put them aside. I needed to do the chores Charles had given me. Each step reminded me of how much I had surrendered to Charles. Taking my clothes, even if they were women's things and putting them in the guest room, confirmed I was no longer the man of the house. Filling the space with his things reaffirmed how Charles had replaced me. I wasn't sure what to do with my few male clothes I had left. Finally, I put them in bags, like I had done with most of my other men's clothing, like dress shirts and underwear that Amy had decided I didn't need anymore. I put them in the laundry room for now. Taking the sheets off the bed, I could see and smell the results of their sex last night. I put those in the washer and got out another set to iron. I had never ironed sheets before, so I wasn't sure how long it would take to do their big surface. So I hurried to be sure I'd have it done before they returned. I had just finished straightening everything up and remaking the bed, when I glanced out the window over our front door as I walked back downstairs. There on the sidewalk were Amy and Charles. They were having what looked to be a nice conversation with a woman. A woman I recognized as Deborah. Deborah was on the beautification committee for our neighborhood association. She was also known as one of the neighborhood's biggest gossips. I knew for sure that our lifestyle change would be well known now. My momentary distraction of doing housework was gone. Now I resumed worrying about the cliff I had just plunged off. Not knowing what else to do, I went to the living room to wait on the happy couples return. They were laughing as they entered the house, having a good time obviously. When Amy saw me, her smiled broadened. She let go of Charles' hand and reached back to tug the hem of her romper out of her butt crack. Then she began to unfasten the row of buttons down the front. "Hello baby. Get your chores done? I'm dying to slip out of this romper and get something to drink. Why don't you pour some sweet tea and bring it out on our porch. I need to rest a bit and we can talk." I did as she asked putting the tea in a large pitcher and filling three glasses with ice. I wasn't sure if she wanted me to join them, but I had decided I needed to be more involved with them. Leaving the two of them alone probably wasn't a good idea. As I came out onto our screened porch, they were sitting together on the rattan love seat. Amy had removed her romper, and sat there in only her bra and panties. I poured the tea, gave everyone a glass, and sat down in a chair opposite of them. I could see Amy wanted to talk. "Robin we had a wonderful walk. I had forgotten how nice the lake looks this time of year. Just showing Charles everything reminded me of what a pretty area we live in. We made the perfect choice buying here. The big trees, flowering plants and mature landscapes in every yard aren't something you get in a new subdivision. Plus the people just seem friendlier in an older more established community. We saw several neighbors I hadn't talked to in years, plus a couple of my regular friends. It seems like we've not walked that trail in so long. I think we need to do it more often. It also gave Charles and I time to talk. He's got some good ideas for us going forward." She glanced over at him as she finished. I was sinking inside, after hearing of their walk. Considering who they had talked with, I just knew our circle of friends would be wondering what had happened and where I was. I wanted to ask more about their conversation, but held back, waiting for Charles to speak. "I hadn't realized what a nice area Amy lived in. It has the perfect layout, a place I can run, a couple of nice tennis courts, and even a community pool. Plus it's such a friendly neighborhood, everyone we met was very welcoming and interested in us. What I started to realize is how much time I spend driving now for work. But until Amy suggested it, I hadn't really thought about this opportunity. She said given how many places I go that are close to Durham that it would be a much better location for me than Atlanta. Not to mention how much more time I can spend with my favorite couple. I guess, I'll be staying here full time for probably three weeks out of each month." "Isn't' that wonderful Robin? With Charles here all the time, we can really accelerate all the changes you wanted to do. I know the more I think about it the better your idea seems. We had fallen into a dull rut and I wasn't even aware of how feminine you really were. It was so unfair of me to make you bottle up your true identity. Well no more. I want your inner girl to come out all the way and live life. Plus, I have to admit to being a bit selfish too. What woman wouldn't want to be able to have a masculine lover please her with his big black cock as well as have a sweet fem husband whose puffy lips and talented tongue can worship her pussy whenever she needs it. But don't worry you'll have plenty of chances to have fun too. I'm already looking forward to more shopping trips to get your wardrobe complete. We can even invite Sherry to join us. It will be a real girls club. I think she'd be able to give us some real pointers on what kind of outfits would be best for you at work. I mean, why shouldn't you be able to wear cute dresses and lovely heels all the time? We can even shop for something for you to wear when we go out dancing. Sherry's been after me to go out with her and Andre. It would be the perfect way for you to show them your new image and introduce Charles. But more than that, I think after tonight you'll be as hooked on Charles as I am. I'm sure once you learn how to properly service him, we'll both get the kind of sexual release we've been missing as a couple. That's why I talked to him about your chastity situation. There has to be a better way and he's all for solving that, right honey?" "Yes, I know you've read and studied my philosophy about men, women, and white males. How each has a proper place and what they need to do to get there. I even showed Amy your test result on my phone as we sat at that gazebo by the lake. So I know you're well aware of what you need to do. You don't get a perfect score without understanding everything. Long story short, I called one of my doctor friends in Raleigh and he agreed to help. I set up a visit for us this week. He'll give you a thorough exam and then he can prescribe the right hormone treatment for you. He fully supports my ideas that all white males should embrace HRT to become the real girls they are. It will still mean you'll be in chastity for a while. But if we start now, in six months you can take it off for good. By then, your erections will be a thing of the past, your balls will be non-functional, unable to generate enough testosterone to create sperm. Sperm that now has no purpose. Your balls and penis will also be getting smaller, if that is possible. In addition, you'll be developing the soft, smooth skin and curvy body of a girl that you've always dreamed of having." "We'll make it a fun weekend too. Charles knows some nice bars and clubs in Raleigh, and they have a road tour of that hit show from Broadway, 'Hamilton'. He can get us tickets. So we can celebrate the start of your journey. Just because you'll be our sissy, doesn't mean there won't be times when you can go out with us and have fun too. Plus, he knows an excellent tattoo artist. Mine seems to be wearing off." She giggled and looked down toward her pussy. Just above her tiny thong, was the remnants of her Black Queen tattoo. Part of it was rubbed away, obviously from the friction of their lovemaking last night. As I stared at it, the immensity of what they wanted to do hit me. Charles was going through with everything he outlined on his Tumblr page. He was claiming my wife for himself, marking her, and moving in to our lives. He was putting me on female hormones to destroy what remained of my masculinity and encourage my further feminization. He was marking me permanently too, as his sissy. I would no longer be a man, who had a private feminine side but would be outed to the world as female. Worse yet, I would be submissive to him, accepting him as the alpha male of our life. His domination of us, moving in, claiming our house as his own, would be a further statement. Deep in the heart of white suburbia, Charles would be a harbinger of a new way in the world. A world where black men claimed their right to take white women and subjugate white males. Other things he talked about on his page flashed through my head, but most prominently was how black men should breed white women. I knew Amy desperately wanted to have children, something I wasn't able to give her. I could see us raising Charles's babies. I knew no matter how strong his attraction was for Amy, that he made it clear on his Tumblr that black men should be free to be with whomever they wished, no restraints. I knew he'd prefer Amy and I remain married, with me neutralized as a feminized white sissy. He would still fuck her like a husband, but be free to possibly flip other white couples too. It would be the best of all worlds. Suddenly it all became clear to me. This was a paradigm of a new life for me. The Robin that had struggled his whole life to change his life narrative, to make everyone see him as a man, and not some joke of an imitation, would be gone. In his place, would be a new Robin, the correct Robin, a feminine soul who no longer had to play act as a man. It would be a big sacrifice for me, to give up being a man and accept another man as my master. I would be surrendering my exclusive relationship with Amy too, becoming more like an intimate girlfriend to her than a masculine mate. My whole world would be upside down. My only other option, was to stand up to Charles and say no. To refuse to be a girl for him, and reclaim my masculinity. Nothing that had happened so far was permanent. I could reverse almost everything quickly, and be the guy I was before. Of course, it was likely that I would have to leave and probably divorce Amy. I could see she was far too attracted to Charles and his skillful romantic persona, not to mention his magnificent black cock to return to her old life with me. Maybe I would get the house, but even so, it would remind me constantly of my lost life. Without Amy, my life would be reduced to work, which gave little real satisfaction. Even if I found another woman, my desires for women's things still be there. I would just be resetting my life, not really changing it. As I thought about it, I couldn't really blame Amy for enjoying her new life. We had fallen into a rut. Our life was without excitement or fulfillment, and not only had I failed to remain engaged with her, I had taken her for granted. Why else would I be online looking for something as radical as what Charles had on his page? Why else would it have appealed to me so much, that I would have made changes in my appearance, taken the chances and involved another man whose expressed goals were to fuck my wife and feminize me? Could I really say it was just a fantasy? Hadn't I taken it for real, dropped the ruse of it being a fantasy and tried to make it my life? Now that it was here, my new future outlined exactly as I had dreamed about it, why was I scared? I took a deep breath and looked at Amy. Really looked at her. She was so sexy, happy, and finally complete. I knew I still loved her, so I wanted her to be this way. I also looked at Charles. He was everything a man should be, everything I wasn't. Then I looked at my image in the mirror in the living room. It was the image of what I had always dreamed of looking. But I had been afraid. Afraid of what others would say, afraid that Amy would be turned off, and afraid that it was more a fantasy for me than something I truly wanted. Now it was there. I began to tremble, not knowing what to do. I didn't know whether to cry or giggle, because my indecision was typical of my personality. Even when I made a choice, like to follow Charles on his Tumblr page, I would have doubts almost immediately. This time was no different, or was it? "Robin, baby, you look so cute in that dress. Go get my phone, I want to post some photos of you, all of you, on Charles's Tumblr page. I think his followers need to see how our new life is progressing. Some new photos, of you in your baby blue dress, then in your matching blue undies, especially with your lovely sissy panties, will be appreciated. Once you're in your lingerie, Charles can take some of me and you showing off for him. Plus, I think it's time you learned how to fully repay him for all his help. A nice photo of you, with your little button nose buried in his pubic hair, his big balls resting on your chin, while your mouth is spread wide open by his marvelous man's cock will be the perfect sign of how your transformation is progressing. After you've released some of his tension, and mine too, then we can go upstairs to get ready to go out. Charles wants us to wear sexy LBDs for our excursion today." "Yes, I've decided. It's time you quit playing and accept your new life. Amy's already committed to me. The rest of the weekend, you'll go out with us, so you too can truly embrace your new paradigm. No more hiding, the world will see how you've accepted your new role in a new society. I want everyone to know that you and Amy have crossed over to this new life. I agree with Amy, it's time to reveal yourselves to my followers and to taste your reward. I promise you'll never go back once you swallow black. Are you ready and willing to admit as a white male, your future is best served as a feminized sissy servant to a black man and his white woman?" Although a small part of me still feared this change and was embarrassed, I knew it was right. My tiny clit was as swollen as it could get in its chaste cage. My head was spinning hearing his plans, and my heart was racing in excitement about what he wanted me to do. The fact that my wife, also wanted me to do this, probably as much as Charles did made it clear I had no choice really. So I quit thinking, decided to just relent and go with my emotions and desires. "Yes sir, I admit your superiority as a real man, who deserves my wife as your lover and my servitude as a white sissy. Please help me take my place in the new world paradigm, the black paradigm." As soon as I said it, I felt better. I knew it was useless to fight this change. That my wife was his, in any case, I might as well be his too. So this was not just my only option but the right one. I turned to get Amy's phone, as I was eager to get the pictures over with so, I could once again taste him. This time I wouldn't hold back, but would indeed try to take him all in. Robin wasn't the only one who wanted a new start in life, and I wanted to show him I accepted the new paradigm.