My wife/Mistress, Heather and I had over the years developed a large repetoire of ways of playing together, with me, of course, always in a submissive role. One of our favorites was her as Mommy and me as her obedient little sissy boy. What a delightful combination of humiliation and safety it created in me.
However, as frequently was the case, she had decided to add a little variety to a developed scene and informed me earlier in the week that, on Saturday, she was inviting a friend of hers from work--Debbie--over and that we I would be her sissy little boy in front of Debbie! A delicious fear grew in me as Saturday approached as I knew I would obey my "Mommy" and suffer a hugely increased dose of humiliation as another woman witnessed my domination and emasculation.
On Saturday morning my wife and I slept in as usual and had a late breakfast. I knew Debbie was to arrive at 1:00, but neither Heather nor I had made any reference to the event since the night before. We both were dressed casually in jeans, with me wearing my usual weekend plain cotton panties and also white socks and loafers, with a short-sleeved sweatshirt.
I was nervous as a cat as 1:00 approached, and my wife was cat-like, too, smiling like one who had eaten the cream.
A few minutes before one, the doorbell rang, and Heather ordered me to answer it. I opened the door and invited our guest in, feeling very nervous and blushing furiously.
Not having met Debbie before, I wasn't sure what to expect, and I wondered what she had expected, too. Debbie was blond with a page-boy cut. I guessed her to be in her early thirties. She was cute but not a knock-out and dressed comfortably in a jeans skirt, blouse, and platform sandals. The latter and her toes got a glance that I wish could have lingered. We each exchanged a rather shy "hi" and a handshake before my wife appeared and gave Debbie a warm hug.
She led the way into the living room, invited her friend to have a seat, and asked if she'd like a coke or coffee.
"Coffee'd be nice," said Debbie, stealing a little glance at me and starting to relax a bit.
"Get Debbie and me coffee, Ken," Heather directed. She takes it with cream and sugar, too. You can have a cup if you want."
As I was preparing the coffee--I felt too nervous to have any--muted sounds from the living room reached my ears. The pair were talking, and giggles were part of the conversation. My ears were burning!
Bringing their coffee back, I found Debbie grinning and sitting comfortably in her chair with her legs crossed. Directed by my wife to sit at her side on the sofa, I was able to look more closely at Debbie's shoes and her pink-polished nails. What a lovely sight! I felt my cock stir as I, too, began to relax a little. Debbie seemed nice, and this promised to be an interesting afternoon.
Not invited to participate in the conversation and rather ignored by both women, I listened to them chat for a few minutes about the office. Then without warning, my wife turned to me. "Well, little sissy, I think it's time you went and put on your diaper."
Debbie laughed--partly probably from nervousness, but she seemed genuinely amused, too. I was too embarrassed even to look at her and quickly rose and hurried from the room.
Under the shock of the moment, my penis had wilted, but as I removed my clothes in the bedroom, it strongly reasserted itself as my submissive side and strong need for humiliation at the hands of my lovely wife took over. The consequence was that once I had my pink diaper on, there was a bulge in its middle.
Before returning to the living room, I took a look in the full-view mirror. How glad I was that Heather helped me to eat sensibly and work out. I was reasonably slim and fit, and when all you're wearing is a brief pink diaper (with lace! designed by your wife), fatness and drooping is hard to hide!
