Sissy Comes Clean

Reflections after Mystic:

On the scenic drive back home from a fall getaway vacation with my lovely wife, I pondered quietly how the excursion would be remembered as a first of a kind. I had begun the trip with the expectation of a quick and routine spanking followed the next day by an epic sex experience. Three days later, however, I emerged having not only been denied sexual relief, but also having endured a solid double caning on my bared buttocks, the second time hard enough to prevent me from biking the next day. What made it different this time was that the punishment was more severe, and it was not followed by sexual pleasure, not the massaging love of a pussy, not even a kiss or a lick of the dick. Moreover, my wife felt no guilt or mercy, only excitement over making me dress in a chemise, tying me down while being punished, and leaving me in panties all night with the warning that I was not allowed to touch or soothe my buttocks.

The experience proved transformational. My wife was already well aware how I enjoyed submitting to her, being whipped and forced to wear feminine attire, and needing to be dominated, denied, and punished to feel loved and complete. The new revelation, however, led me face to face with my own acknowledgement and acceptance, under the duress of the cane, of being a willing participant, of wanting to wear the frilly lingerie on my own. In a most remarkable precedent, I admitted for the first time that I enjoyed all this even more than sex, something that I had never even dared to think much less to say out loud before. My loving wife had suspected this all along, and took it upon herself to uncork these deep and hidden desires from the genie's bottle. I felt humiliated but grateful nonetheless.

After returning home from vacation, I learned that the journey was still not over. My wife explained ever so lovingly that my sexual pleasure was not the highest priority in life. She dropped another bomb, declaring "I regret to tell you that sissies are not entitled to penetrative vaginal sex. No pussy for sissy!" She teased me that such privileges were reserved for real men and furthermore that any form of sexual pleasure would be at her discretion only, and happen almost certainly with less frequency than I would like. My frown was met with raised eyebrows and the rhetorical pair of questions, "Shall we consider this matter settled? Or would you like to discuss it in the presence of my cane?" I immediately affirmed my unconditional agreement to her decision. I had a long and difficult road ahead.

That night, she again denied me sex, choosing instead to tie me down and utterly ruin my orgasm. She stroked my penis masterfully, just barely enough to light the fire, then stop all stimulation despite my pleas to continue. I thrashed around in vain against the ropes as my penis raged in desperate search for a soft feminine hand to caress me in my big moment, a warm mouth to suck me in my moment of glory, or a tight wet pussy to stoke me during my volcanic eruption. She kept me at the edge until she sensed that the tipping point had tipped. She removed all stimulation and watched with chuckling amusement as my cock throbbed against the cool emptiness of the night, letting me surrender my identity. My signature ink dribbled out uselessly down the sides of my cock, spilling into a pool of messy frustration. A week's worth of precious semen that should have been torpedoed deep into her vagina by a manly man was instead sent to a more humiliating outcome, a destiny fit for a sissy. I was promptly locked away in lacy feminine panties for the night, with my penis and my buttocks both throbbing, but for different reasons.

The next morning, I woke up to the sensation of an ice pack on my genitals. My wife decided to lock me up in a steel cage chastity belt. I felt extremely horny and frustrated as she explained, "Don't pout about it. We both know from past experience that you'll be happier if you know that there is no possibility of an orgasm for you, right?"

"Yes, that's correct," I replied. She reached over and started to slip the chastity ring around my testicles. Then she lubricated my penis and placed the cage over it. After locking the device, she put the key in a special safe. The combination lock was set to prevent opening for 7 days. I watched somberly as the LED clock on the safe counted down. She kissed me, "Good morning and welcome to your new life. After 7 days have passed, you'll be eligible for a parole hearing where I'll determine whether to release you, or extend your prison time, all depending on your behavior and attitude."

Whatever sexual pleasure had been denied to me had now been replaced by the more profound pleasure of surrender. For the first time in my life, I accepted it graciously, not as an experience of missed sexual encounters, corporal punishment, forced feminization, and ruined orgasms, but rather as the most necessary release of my repressed desires, and deserved fulfillment of the glory of surrender.