Women's Unleashed Passions

Wives usually rejoice in the first phases of the feminization of their hubbies. Shopping with them for lingerie is always an incomparable occasion to make them feel more effeminate, submissive, and exposed. What wife would miss the opportunity to tell the salesgirl, “He’s wearing a chastity cage—his panties must be of the kind usually worn by sexually denied hubbies.”

Your wife is in his car, ready to leave and enjoy the weekend with a real man—a Black man. The images in your head are of her in lingerie and of you observing her get ready for him. She says goodbye, and they leave. Alone at home, you take your rollerball pen and some premium bond paper and start to write, “My wife has just left to spend the weekend with a Black man who dwarfs me in virility and lovemaking skills. She has instructed me to write a thorough description of what I imagine they might be doing while she is with him—like whether she has stripped for him, whether she is already wet, or whether his huge Black cock is in her mouth. She has told me not to masturbate for any reason. I must not do it, not even if writing—and thinking—about her having sex with him is extremely arousing for me.”

Everything was very subtle. Weren’t you being oversuspicious? Your wife had been talking for days of the birthday party of her bestie's brother, and she was taking too long to get ready and showing too much interest in looking attractive. She was almost ready when she said, “Honey, I forgot to tell you about it—he told me that I can stay over at his house if I drink alcohol at the party. I might accept his offer, so don’t stay up.”

In sex, foreplay is vital. Your wife’s just-fucked pussy is in full view for you, but she keeps teasing you to make you long for it more and more. She wants you to crave it madly, to the point where if she asked you if you want to lick her lover’s cum, you would beg her to allow you to do it.

Before you left on a business trip, your wife wanted to show you some of the lingerie sets she was going to wear for your boss while you were away. She told you to buy her at least a couple of them in Paris—you knew she was going to wear them for your boss first.

Your wife had been teasing you all day; she smiled and said, "I want you very horny this evening—when you'll watch your best friend fuck me."

How many of your wife’s coworkers saw your wife leaving her boss's office? How many of them know that you are a cuckold?

I know you love that lingerie set, sweetie, but it’s much more suited for a woman—even a married one—who has a date with a real man than for a sissy husband. If you think you are yet ready to do it, we can go together on a sissy lingerie shopping spree whenever you want. It’s time you started to chat about your personal likes in sissy lingerie with some of the usually very feminine shop assistant girls.

The norm isn't that assertive wives never have sex with their sissy husbands; the norm is that they're the ones in charge. What she said to her effeminate husband—“Go wait for me upstairs, sweetie”—followed by a loving kiss on his lipsticked lips is just her way of telling him to be ready for some sexual intimacy between them. Intimacy might be performing prolonged oral sex on her or loving penetration with him being on the receiving end, but it will make her effeminate husband feel both loved and even more effeminate—even more effeminate than he feels every time her real-man lover has sex with his wife.

Her pussy is heaven. The wetness of another man's cum in the warmth of her pussy is a minor sacrifice to the woman you worship. You don't consider yourself deserving of being the only man she has sex with—how could you? Your feelings are of gratitude, never of jealousy.

If it arouses him—and it obviously arouses him—it would be utterly easy for his wife to lead him through a path of regular oral sex and cream pie eating. She is going to love it. The total freedom to have sex with other men is absolutely empowering for a wife. The intimate worship of cunnilingus after having sex with another man is ecstatic.

Honey, what else do I need to do to get you to understand that I need something able to remain straight and upward for at least thirty times your usual thirty seconds? The way you do it doesn’t work—I need a substitute.

Honey, I have moved your things to the guest room; my lover is going to stay for at least some weeks.

Your wife and all the other women had joined that non‑Arabian harem voluntarily. You told the owner that you would do anything to stay with your wife—he told you that you could be her personal servant if you were willing to undergo the necessary changes. After your wife saw the changes, she told you, “Honey, it was already too tiny; it would never be of any use for a woman—and you still have your tongue.”

What your wife wants, craves, and loves so intensely is totally obvious and understandable—even you find the view utterly erotic. You had only one possible option to remain married to her, and you embraced it. You have accepted sex denial, permanent chastity, obedience, submission, a women-led life, and total subservience to them both—you know it is your perfectly natural role.

When your best friend slowly slid his fingers between the skin of your wife's tummy and the cloth of her white panties, and his fingertips began to caress her pubic hair, your wife whispered, "You are his best friend; never tell my husband about this—ever."

Your wife told you, “I know the wetness and warmth of my vagina feels like heaven for you, honey, even if my lover's semen is all over your penis now—being a good cuckold deserves its rewards.” As you had already told her, it felt like heaven—and was worth the humiliation of sloppy seconds.