The Perfect Hubby

by Sharon Masterman

 

4. Sissy Cuckold

 

Despite all this, I still haven't gotten over Billy's cheating on me. I'm still getting revenge -- hurting and humiliating him the way he hurt and humiliated me. At least once a month I spank him to orgasm -- my orgasm. Nothing he can do for me with his dick is as exciting as letting me turn his ass crimson with a hairbrush as he whimpers and sobs like a child. It reinforces the terms of our relationship with him as a naughty boy and me as the dominering mother figure. Afterwards he puts his head in my lap and softly sobs and weeps and calls me "mommy" as I comfort and mother him. He says he worships and adores me and will do anything to make me happy. Then I make him prove it.

I dress him up in a cute little maid's outfit -- complete with fishnet stockings, spike-heeled shoes, and a lacy apron and cap -- and invite Julie over. She can hardly contain her giggles as my sissy hubby greets her at the door with a delicate little curtsey. Then I make him serve us drinks and wine and cheese. After a while Julie gently teases and harasses him, the way men often tease and harass cocktail waitresses. She comments on his figure, gently pinches his buns, and seductively runs her hands up and down his stocking-sheathed legs as he's bending over serving drinks. It's humiliating for a male to dress and serve as a maid and be sexually harassed for the amusement of women. But that's exactly what I want -- to hurt him with my hairbrush and humiliate him as a sissy in front of others.

Julie keeps on saying we should have a party for our all girlfriends and have Billy and her sissy hubby (and my ex-) Marc dress and serve as maids for their amusement. Or, she says, we could dress them up as go-go girls and have them bump and grind for us like exotic dancers. Julie has a devilish mind, doesn't she? We haven't done either of these yet, but we're thinking about it.

Julie's also suggested that we keep them in chastity devices for about a month and then make them dress each other up as the bimbo of his dreams for the amusement of a female audience. Then, as the ladies giggle and laugh, we make our sissy hubbies come on to each other and kiss and hug and feel each other up. Of course, they'll be embarrassed and humiliated, but after four weeks of forced chastity, they won't be able to resist. It's hard to imagine anything more mortifying for a male than being dressed as a sissy and hugging and kissing and fondling another sissy to the point of orgasm and then eating his own cum -- all for the amusement of a group of mocking, teasing, laughing, giggling women. But if I order him to do it to prove his love and devotion to me, my sissy hubby will do it. I'm sure of it. Emotionally, he's regressed to the level of a young adolescent and I'm the domineering mother/authority figure in his life.

From time to time I also cuckold him. During his transformation I got Billy to sign the WhAP Nuptial Agreement. It requires him to be completely faithful. But the next line says, "Husband also agrees to be cuckolded, should his wife desire companionship outside their marriage." So whenever I want romance and excitement, I date other guys.

First it was Jack, my aerobics instructor. Then Mike, a wealthy stockbroker. Now it's Frank. Frank is a real hunk. He's also my husband's boss!

Billy knows about my dating. That's part of the fun -- making him dress me for my dates. It reinforces his feelings of sexual inadequacy. First he draws my perfumed bath. I have him kneel by my side and hold my cigarette while I luxuriate in the tub. I have him wash my back and towel me dry. Then I make him do my nails. It's a real treat having your sissy hubby doing your nails for a hot date. After this, he kneels at my side as I sit at my vanity in a glamorous peach negligee and matching marabou mules and do my makeup. I put on long false eyelashes, heavy eye makeup, and coat after coat of shiny lipstick to match my newly painted nails.

As I make myself up, I chatter away about my lover de jour -- his looks, his size, and his virility. Then I seductively slip into a glamorous Wonderbra, matching panties and garter belt, and silky black seamed nylons. I savor the frustrated longing in my hubby's eyes as I become the glamour girl of his dreams -- not for him, but for another man! "Okay, sweetie," I say, "smooth my nylons for me and straighten the seams. Then help me with my dress."

After helping me into a sexy, low-cut, form-fitting dress from Frederick's of Hollywood, he watches me put on a pair of long, dangling earrings. He fastens my necklace and helps me select a couple of matching bracelets. Then he kneels at my feet and helps me into a pair of my growing collection of ultra-high, "fuck me," steel-tipped spike heels. After he's helped me into one shoe, I place the sharp stiletto heel on his manhood and alternatively tease and torment it as he helps me into the other. "My heel is longer, harder, and more powerful than your dick, isn't it, little man?" I mockingly ask.

And I watch with delight as fighting back the tears, he shamefully admits his inadequacy as a man. "Yes, dear," he softly says. "It is." Then he gently, lovingly, reverently takes my spike-heeled foot in his hands, lifts it to his lips and worshipfully kisses, licks, and sucks the powerful spike heel. "Mmm, mmm, mmm," he softly murmurs and the long, sharp, metal heel penetrates his pursed and soon-to-be painted lips.

Then I hand him one of my sexy "I'm hot and available" anklets and ask him to fasten it for me. I continue to tease and ridicule him about his tiny dick as he fumbles with the tiny clasp. Finally, he can no longer hold back the tears as I ask him to remove my wedding ring and place it on the vanity. "Sorry, dear," I say with a mocking smirk, "but I'm a real woman -- and a real woman needs more than one man, especially when her hubby has such a small useless dick."

Some guys are nervous about dating a married woman. They're worried about an enraged macho husband. To put them at ease, I have Billy greet them at the door wearing a mauve woman's tee, black slacks, shiny mauve lipstick and matching eyeshadow, heavy mascara, earrings, open-toed mules with a 2-inch wedge heel, and a frilly white apron.

I introduce him as my hubby, but add that we have an unusual relationship. "Soon after we were married," I tell my date as Billy blushes with shame, "I learned he didn't have the size, strength, or stamina to really satisfy me -- and that deep down he was really quite girlish. So the terms of our relationship changed. We still love each other. But we're more like mother and son -- sissy son -- than husband and wife. Aren't we, sweetie?"

"Yes, mommy," Billy humiliatingly replies.

"And you're grateful to other men -- real men -- who will take me out and give me what you can't, aren't you, dear?"

Totally mortified, my sissy hubby turns bright red and says once again, "Yes, mommy."

"Then thank this nice man," I say, gesturing to my date. "Tell him you're glad he's taking me out and giving me what you can't."

And bless his heart, Billy swallows hard, performs a delicate little curtsey, and expresses his gratitude to the guy who's cuckolding him. "Thanks for dating my wife," he says. "I want her to be happy, but I'm too small to satisfy her. And I cum too soon. Besides, she's a real woman and a real woman needs more than one man."

To erase any doubts, I snuggle up to my lover de jour, rubbing my breasts against his broad chest and bringing my thigh up between his legs. I draw him to me and give him a deep, soul-searching kiss -- right in front of my husband. Then I turn to my hubby and give him a contrasting peck on the cheek. "'Night, dear," I say as I adjust his frilly apron. "I won't be back till late, so don't wait up. But have a good time while I'm gone. You can wear mommy's nightie, nylons, and heels -- like you did as a boy -- and then play with her vibrator. But be sure to save what dribbles out so I can see it. I've left your little jar on the nightstand in the guest room. You'll be sleeping there tonight."

My lovers can hardly contain their laughter. Any fears they may have had about an enraged macho husband have totally disappeared. How could anyone be afraid of a sissy hubby like this?

After we leave the house, my dates ask me why I'm married to such a wimp. I don't answer. They'd never understand. But the fact is I'd never leave my hubby for another man.

Don't get me wrong. I love the romance and excitement of dating. Size, strength, and stamina do matter! And every once and a while I need guy who's bigger, stronger, and longer lasting than my sissy hubby. But the handsome studs I date are good for only one thing -- and you don't have to marry them to get it!

The point is I've learned that I don't really want a typical husband. I want a wife -- a male/wife -- a gentle, submissive, obedient, feminine male like Billy who worships and adores me and will do anything I say. None of the guys I date would do for me what Billy does.

Think about it. He cooks and cleans, washes and irons, and turns his entire paycheck over to me. He's gentle and submissive in bed and he puts my needs before his.

He lets me get off by taking him over my knee and turning his ass crimson with a hairbrush. Then to satisfy my maternal needs he clings to my legs, whimpers and sobs, and calls me "mommy" as I take his head in my lap and comfort and mother him. After this he dresses and serves as mommy's pretty sissy-maid. Nothing pleases mommy more, I tell him, than having her little girly-boy brush her hair, polish her nails, and help her in and out of her high heels.

He's regressed so much and become so sexually insecure that he's totally faithful. At the same time, he understands and accepts my need for romance and excitement, so he lets me date other guys. He even dresses me for my dates. When my lover spends the night, Billy moves into the guest room. Next morning he dresses up in a cute little maid's outfit and serves us a delicious gourmet breakfast in bed.

What else could a girl want? He's the perfect hubby!

To be continued

 

 

 

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© 2003 by Sharon Masterman. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.