Friday, August 25, 2017

Ringing the Bell

"You're sure about this?" my mother-in-law asked my wife as I stood in front of them dressed from head to toe in a French Maid's uniform, complete with classic lingerie-a garter belt, bra, and panty set, white nylons, and make up and wig.

"I...I think so," my wife said hesitating.

"You think so, Emma?" her mother asked.

"I've been talking to me about feminizing him for a year," Emma said, looking at me, "I thought you'd be pleased."

I blushed, ashamed at that moment I'd let her talk me into this, ashamed to learn how much this was her mother's idea, ashamed at the way I was dressed.

"Emma, I am pleased, don't mistake my hesitation for displeasure. I want to make sure you're pleased, too. Feminizing a husband isn't something to be taken lightly, it isn't something to do half-hearted. Once you feminize him, you'll never look at him again and see a man. Never. Even if he wears a man's things, you'll picture him like this. I guess I'm saying this isn't a bell that can be unrung."

"I...I think I rung the bell, mother."

Her mother smiled, looked me over from head to toe. "I suppose you have, dear," she said, "I suppose you have."

"He...he looks prettier than I imagined he would."

"He was never that masculine to begin with, dear," my mother-in-law chuckled. She saw me blush, looked at me. "You doubt me?" she demanded.

"," I stammered, surprised at her tone.

"Ma', Ma'am," she snapped.

"No, Ma'am," I said without thinking.

"I'm not sure he's happy about this, mother," my wife said, echoing my words to her.

"Yet he let you dress him just the same, Emma, that's what matters. Frankly, I don't care if he likes it or not, that he accepts it is what matters. What about his thing?" she asked.

"His thing?" my wife asked.

"His penis, dear, what about his penis."

"Oh," my wife blushed. "We...I...he's wearing it," she said, "he wasn't happy about that, either."

My mother-in-law snorted. "I imagine he wasn't, they usually aren't at first, though they come to accept it. It's locked?"

"Yes," my wife answered.

"Show me," my mother-in-law demanded.

" you?" I said, dumbfounded.

"Show me, girl, lift your skirts, let me see."

"I...but I..."

"Don't think I won't take you over my knee, girl," my mother-in-law said in an icy voice, "I won't tolerate backtalk from a sissy."

I looked from her to Emma, saw my wife's embarrassment, but knew she'd never cross her mother. She didn't, instead looked at me, nodded every so slightly, asked me with her eyes to do as her mother asked. 

"Emma," I said softly.

"Please," my wife replied, "just...just do as she asks."

I looked at my mother-in-law, she was still glaring at me, waiting. Reluctantly, I reached for the hem of the maid's dress, lifted it and the petticoats up to my waist, exposing the tops of my stockings, the smooth bare skin of my thighs, the garter straps. And the sheer black panties through which the locked, pink cage was clearly visible.

"I'm pleased," she said to Emma, "very pleased. You've put the key away?"

"No,'s here," Emma said taking the key from her pocket. "I..."

"What?" her mother asked. 

"I...I wanted you to hold it," she said.

"Me?" my mother-in-law said in surprise, the same surprise I had.

"I...I'm afraid," my wife said.

"Afraid of what? That he'll find it?"

"No," my wife said, "afraid...afraid I'll...I'm afraid I'll unlock it the second he asks."

My mother-in-law smiled. "You might at you want me to hold it?"

My wife nodded. "I...if...if you would?"

"Of course I would," she said, "but only in my way, dear."

"Which...which is?" Emma asked.

"We've discussed my thoughts on this subject, no?"

"S...some," Emma said.

"He's locked because sissies should NEVER be permitted to masturbate," my mother-in-law said, "never. It's bad enough men do it, but that's tolerable, excusable, but never for a sissy." She looked at me as she said this, accusation in her voice.

"I...I don't..."

"Shush," she hissed. "Of course you do. Well, did. Because you won't now. That will stay locked until I decide it's time to be unlocked."


"You know my thoughts, Emma, erections are for men; personally, I think that should be permanent, there's really no need for a sissy to ever be allowed to become erect."

"Mother," Emma said gently, "I promised him..."

"I presumed, Emma," she said, "so it's not permanent...yet...but if you want me to hold the key, he'll be released only when I think it best, are we clear?"

"How often?" Emma asked, knowing it was the question foremost on my mind.

"Certainly never less than a month," she said.

"A...a month," I gasped.

"Never less than a month," my mother-in-law smiled. "Never. Two is better, three even more so."

"Three," I said, voice cracking.

"If you behave," she said, "something I suspect you'll struggle with at first."

It dawned on me at that moment I may have made a mistake in agreeing to this, may have been foolish in believing I could control this even in the smallest amount. But something else inside me rebelled against that, the part of me that was making my penis throb in the cage, the same part of me that was actually excited at what was happening, even if most of me was aghast.

"The bell has been rung," my mother-in-law said, taking the key from my wife, "the bell has been rung."

1 comment:

  1. Since I am myself locked, this conversation has excited me very much.