Monday, November 3, 2014

Meeting Sara and Stuff, Part 1

Yea, like wow.

The day may have started like any other day, waking up, coffee, but I knew it was not going to be nothing ordinary. In fact, I was up early, 6:30, as I couldn't sleep, was too excited about later. I got up, made coffee, straightened up the kitchen, did some laundry, you know, typical sissy husband duties, while Emily slept in. I work her at 9, as she'd asked (instructed) the night before, and we went on a nice seven mile run, some her and me time, ate breakfast together after.

At 3:00, Emily said she was going to take a nap and asked me to wake her up at 4:30, Matthew was picking her up at 7:00. We hadn't discussed her costume or getting ready or any details, she rightly assumed I had a plan. And I did.

While she slept, I went upstairs to our guest room, showered, shaved, did everything a woman would do to make herself soft and feminine.

I dressed in my favorite foundations garment-a sheer black bullet bra and sheer panties to go with a six strap garter belt, all from one of my favorite stores, Secrets in Lace. The panties were not super tight, as I would have worn if I was full 'tucking', but they were supportive enough to keep the cage holding my already swelling penis tight against me.


Black stockings, of course, classic for the look I was going for. And 4 3/4 inch black thin ankle strap sandals.


I did my makeup, feminized my hair and looked at myself in the mirror.

The foundation garments were just that, the foundation of my femininity, the building blocks of what Matthew said he wished to see, Sara, Emily's French Maid.

Was he serious? I wondered, of course, was full of nerves, was all week, all day. But he knew, he'd hinted, had taken charge in his own way.

I have several maid's uniforms-a mundane housecleaning uniform (too practical, not sexy, a real 'get work done' uniform), a prettier cotton uniform that's sexy, a couple of satin uniforms that scream sissy.

Matthew was getting sissy. He'd only used the word once, way back, but hadn't called me the word I love and hate so much. But he was getting the sissy...it was me...the essence of me. The choice of uniforms was really not difficult at all. 


We'd bought it online, I'm sure some of you are familiar with it. It's made of high quality satin, has incredible detail, and gives a perfect trim look. (Incidentally, you can buy it here). I wear it with petticoats, of course, the satin pinafore, a maid's cap, and a matching black and white lace choker and wrist bands (cuffs). 


I looked at myself in the mirror again, felt nervous again, wondered if it was too much, if I was wrong, whether I should change, forget all of this. What kind of husband allows this? I was dressing in a maid's uniform to serve as my wife's maid while she dressed as a slut to go to a Halloween party with her lover. Tell yourself that, and feel the self doubt creep in. But it was me, wasn't it?

What I wanted. Always. To be true to myself, what I was. A sissy. A cuckold. No. No. I had to go through with this, wanted to go through with this. Show him you're not a man, show him you're not a threat, show him the real you.

It was a line, once crossed, could never be undone. But it was a line I had to walk past. He expects it. She expects it. And you want it. This is you.

What would he think? That you're a sissy, what do you think he'll think.

How would he react? He'll understand...he has his role, you have yours.

But this was the final step, the true acknowledgment that in this threesome, he was the man, Emily was the woman, and I was the cuckold. The sissy cuckold.

Matthew. Emily. Sara.

The man. The whore. The sissy.

He'd been honest at every turn, I reminded myself, if he asked for this, he wanted this.

It was 4:25, no time for self-doubt for the moment, it was time to wake Emily, time to wake sleeping beauty, prepare her to become the belle of the ball.

She was dozing but opened her eyes when I opened the door and stepped into the room; no matter how quiet I tried to be, my heels clicked, clacked on the wood floor. 

"Hmmm," she smiled softly, "it's been too long."

"Mistress," I questioned, consciously adopting the deferential tone a maid should use with those she serves.

She smile. "It's been too long since you served, love."

"Yes, Mistress," I said, walking into the bathroom to draw her a scented, oiled bath in our soak tub. While the tub was filling, I gathered the things I needed: a bath pillow, washcloths, body wash in a scent I knew she'd appreciate-Pure Seduction.

"You're so good to me, Sara."

"Thank you, Mistress," I smiled playfully as she slipped into the tub. I left her to enjoy herself while I set our her costume, what little of it there was, anyway.

So, what was she going to be? Well, what was she? But Matthew's whore. I mean, he wanted slutty, right? He wanted to show her off, right? Emily, shy at heart, found it so erotic, so naughty, so thrilling to dress for him, in ways she'd never dress for me (in public). 

So she was going to be his whore. His high class whore. 

So while Emily relaxed in the tub, I set out her outfit, each item carefully and lovingly placed on the bed for her to see when she was done soaking. 

"Love," she called out some half hour later, and I went to her, helped her from the tub, toweled her dry. Patiently I sat with her as she did her hair and makeup. Kind of patiently, anyway, because the anticipation was killing me. The anticipation of her seeing her 'costume' and the anticipation of dressing her and the anticipation of seeing her. And the anticipation of Matthew seeing her. 

Finally...fucking finally, she finished (she was dragging it out on purpose, I knew and she knew I knew). But she was as excited as I was, it showed with every movement, in her eyes, in her voice.

"Well," she said, "I suppose it's time to dress."

"Emily," I said, my voice almost breaking. Again, the self-doubt, not just about Matthew, that doubt was a constant present, a reminder of the depth of my feelings for my wife. But self-doubt about the costume I'd picked (slutty, he instructed, slutty, he commanded, but was it too much, did I take it too far?)

Whore? Was I really going to dress her as Matthew's whore?

In some ways, in many ways, that word, that attitude, was the foundation of this three-way relationship. He took my pretty, demure, respectable wife (from outside appearances anyway) and pulled from her what she wouldn't do on her own. He pulled to the forefront her inner slut, her latent desire to shed respectability and throw herself at a man. When she hesitated, he demanded more. When she pulled back, he pushed forward. He knew her deep, dark desires and made them come true. 

Calling her his whore was taking her desires, her fantasies, her need for a man and making them a reality. Matthew, the opposite of me, helped her fulfill the need to be led, to submit, the need to be with a alpha man. Ant the need to have her husband support her. She gets to have her cake and eat it too-the benefits of her most intimate lover (me) coupled with the benefits of a dominate, sexual, alpha man.

So yes, she's his whore. What other costume could it be than his whore?

This was my inspiration, not exactly what I went with, but it was the mental foundation:


And below is what my wife saw when I walked with her into our bedroom.

I started with a set I'd gotten her awhile back but hadn't given to her yet (it was, when bought, going to be a surprise gift for her to wear for me...and now, in a way, it was a completely different surprise for me...and her...and him.) It's from Agent Provocateur (since discontinued...got it when it was on sale).



What drew me to it? The sheerness, the way it would cover her breasts, but not really, the way it would hide them, but not really. How perfect for tonight. I just love how sheer it is, how well it would with black Cervin 100% nylon stockings and five inch heels:


Perfect, to start with, right? But what to finish with? Well, sheer was the theme, right? Sheer to show off, sheer to be daring, sheer to be slutty, sheer to be his whore. 


I mean, it's probably wrong, but I want her to turn him on, I want her to turn everyone on!

But that wasn't enough because I'm bad, because I'm kinky, because I want her to submit to him. So I bought something I shouldn't have, these jewelry like wrist cuffs and choker (I set them out on the bed, not the chain that playfully connected the cuffs...that was for later...a surprise).


The last two things for her to see (for now), were icing on the cake:


"This...this is it," I said when she saw, immediately taking away any thought there was more (there was, a thing or two).

"Sara..." She turned to me, I saw the look in her, realization just how sheer everything was, how she'd be on display, sexualized. But excitement, too, lust, I assumed for Matthew, for my participation, for the realization sh was his whore.

"I..." I swallowed. "You...you're...you're his whore," I said softly, shyly.

"Oh, Sara," she said quietly.

"It's too much," I said, self doubt again.

"You mean too little," she teased. "My god."

"Emily...I...he said..."

"Slutty."

"Emily..."

"Dress me, love, dress me."

"Emily...Mistress..."

"Dress me as his whore."

**********

But for the cage I wore, I would have been erect. As it was, I strained against the confines, a reminder underneath I was a male, a reminder underneath I was a sissy. Her nipples, hard, were visible, just barely, though the layers of sheer fabric. She looked sultry, slutty, sexual.

"He'll be here right at seven," she said, a minute or two before. "Why don't you let him in while I finish," she said holding the mask up, "introduce yourself, make him comfortable, come get me."

"Emily," my voice cracked.

"Let him meet Sara," she said, "he wants to...so do you."

"I...I'm scared."

"I know," she said gently. "But you can't change who you are."

10 comments:

  1. What an incredible beginning. I know an event such as this takes time to accurately describe. But please don't make us wait too long sweet Sara. I am so happy you went through with your plan

    Kisses,

    Leeanne

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  2. Awesome, waiting for part 2

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  3. So very very sensual, Sara. Thank you, thank you for that.

    xoxoxo

    Christine

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  4. Thank you Sara for sharing your life with us, and for doing it so eloquently. Can't wait for part 2.

    StefaniTV

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  5. Sara, you commented in an earlier post that Matthew is 'in both your heads'.
    Let me tell you, I cannot get all three of you out of mine.
    Thank you so much for sharing your sissy life with us.

    stephanie

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  6. I wouldn't be too impatient Leeanne. The last time it was broken up into 2 parts, there was a gap of 15 days. I am guessing that is her writing style. I hope so anyway, and mot that there is anything wrong with the 3 of them.

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  7. the anticipation is crescendoing......wow.....the choice of words to express how Sara is feeling is priceless.......

    I had to go through with this, wanted to go through with this. Show him you're not a man, show him you're not a threat, show him the real you.

    It was a line, once crossed, could never be undone. But it was a line I had to walk past. He expects it. She expects it. And you want it. This is you.


    and then later......"Let him meet Sara," she said, "he wants to...so do you."

    "I...I'm scared."

    "I know," she said gently. "But you can't change who you are."


    that recognition by all three that this is the right thing......oh that is so so so perfect.....

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  8. tell us Sara the rest of the story... please !!!!

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