Loving Wife And Sissy

My love, on the first night, even under the darkness of covers, I felt very vulnerable and exposed after you locked me in virtual chastity and had me dress in a skimpy chemise. My first reaction was understandably negative. I felt resentful and frustrated to have my sexual privileges taken away and further to be forced to wear ultra-feminine attire all night. In the early hours, I felt sorry for myself and upset that I was being unjustly denied the sex I deserved.

Shortly afterwards, in a state of early sleep, my attitude began to transform. After all, I was accustomed having my male ego periodically tamed by a strict female authority. And after each time, I always returned, like a reader of the Arabian Nights who yearns to hear the next story. Why fight it? Try as I might to shut my ears, the next chapter was bound to find me. I woke up the next morning having accepted my situation, though only in a quietly resigned and simmering kind of way.

On the second night, I experienced deeper sleep. The silky coolness of the chemise lulled me away from passively tolerating my circumstances towards actively accepting them. The tactile sensations of the soft fabric taunted me with every breath that I was not entitled to the special sexual pleasures reserved for manly men. I was expected to welcome my chastity with the gracefulness, obedience, and appreciation demanded of a sissy. My dream wife whispered subconsciously, "Stop tormenting yourself by imagining the intense orgasmic pleasures that all the other men are enjoying with their wives. For sure, they must be experiencing heavenly vaginal delights! But not you, my love. Your penis is not eligible, not entitled, not allowed. It's destined to be denied such pleasures. That's why you're in panties." I drifted back to sleep, swimming in the affirmation "NO PUSSY FOR SISSY." The five-letter forbidden word caused jolts of anxiety as it resounded in my heart repeatedly.

When I woke up, I felt a serene peacefulness. I realized that I needed this time in prison to experience the glory of feminine energy. I understood my wife's decision to send me to prison and to suffer forced feminization as an act of supreme love. Nevertheless, I pouted in my 'poor me' attitude on and off throughout the day.

On the third night during even deeper sleep, angels in my dreams smiled and playfully teased me that I would remain in prison until I learned to accept my place as a sissy and honor my Goddess wife. The angels explained that masculine attire was inappropriate for effeminate men, that I belonged in a chemise, and that if I resisted, I could be subjected to even more unspeakable feminine "prettifications." They seemed determined to enforce my submission to help me channel my sexual energy positively. I was warned to accept whatever pleasures my wife might give. I immediately envisioned sex, blow jobs, and hand jobs. But they read my mind and laughed, reminding me that such privileges were prohibited for sissies. They discussed which pleasures I deserved, then concluded definitively, "none of the above."

On the fourth night, I slept in a sheer mini skirt and delicate panties. My wife asked her sisterhood of angels what to do with me. The nymphs voted unanimously that I needed to be disciplined, and the more harshly the better. They recommended a hard paddling that should leave me too tender to sit and suggested keeping tissues nearby in case of 'loss of composure.' They agreed I should be restrained and subjected to a feathery soft, barely stimulated, non-orgasm that causes semen to dribble out with minimal touch, no friction, no pressure, and most importantly, no climax. "Tease him relentlessly until just before the moment of ejaculation. Then stop. His muscles will go through the motions of release, his penis will toggle hopelessly, but the nerves will not feel any pleasure, and the dopamine will sublimate. The extreme frustration and deep sexual despair will be in proportion to the transformative surrender he deserves to suffer." The angel assured her that I would come out of it a better man.

The next night, my wife relayed the devastating recommendations with the adage, "It's all for your own good, despite your objections." She smiled confidently as she retrieved her wooden paddle, a bag of feminine attire, and four sets of ropes. She instructed me to prepare her favorite vibrator. "Regrettably, I don't have sex with a sissy man who wears panties and gets spanked by his wife. But I still need a big hard cock to take care of me deep inside." She snuggled up next to me, whispering, "I told you to be careful what you wish for. I hope you're ready, because there's no going back now. And I love you."