Wedding Belle

Fading fast were the dreams I carried of playing the role of Cindy's proud husband. Gone were the images and photo albums of me playing the stereotypical male role. My heart beat rapidly as I lay beneath my wife, her greasy, erection jammed against my hip. Our marriage wasn't going to be anything quite like what you see on TV.

Afterward we both had recovered, Cindy had made me run, weak-kneed to the bathroom for clean wash clothes and towels. I cleaned her weapon, after which she had me plant a kiss on the head. I blushed nervously, but did as she asked.

Once were both washes and refreshed, she pulled me into her arms and kissed me passionately. She patted my bottom as she smiled happily. "Don't try acting all coy. Tell me you loved getting fucked."

Embarrassed to the core, I tried turning away from her on the bed. She held me as firmly as a wrestler. "No, I won't."

"Why not!?" she cried. "You obviously loved it as much as I did."

"It wasn't fucking" I said softly. "It was making love."

"Yes, it was my cupcake," Cindy said kissing me. "And you were so worried that you wouldn't be able to please me. You did, wonderfully. Just not in the traditional way that you thought you would."

"I'd still like to try again," I said sheepishly. "To make love to you, as a man should."

"Someday, if we decide we want children, I'll let you try again. But for right now, I have to be honest with you my little cherub, you could never give me an orgasm that way. I don't want to hurt your feelings, but you're just big enough down there. Now please, don't take that as an insult, because do not mean it to be. It's just plain reality. And I want you to know – I don't care about that. So long as you go down on me with that magical tongue of yours, and so long as I can make love to you with my strapon... we're going to have a wonderfully satisfying sex life together."

I shuddered to think that for the rest of my days... years... Cindy would be using me that way. Then she smiled, and I just melted. She was so beautiful, as I lay there in the comfort of my wife's strong arms, my body still trembling from what had just happened, I wanted to surrender, but I still felt a certain confusion. How could she treat me this way, make love to me like that – and still respect me? Deep down in my subconscious still lurked notions that someday I would wear the pants in the marriage, that I would be able to please her as a man, and she would accept me as her traditional husband.

Of course, over time those kinds of thoughts slowly diminished and eventually disappeared. And why not. At 7 a.m. in the next morning, I awoke with my wife sliding her KY-coated cock up my still tender asshole.

I blinked, and tried to focus. I woke laying on my side, with Cindy behind me, and cried out as her eternally erect cock sliding across my prostate and deep inside me.

"Good morning princess," Cindy whispered, kissing the back of my neck.

She made long, slow love to me. Once she found my prostate, I could not help but begin to moan and thrash beneath her. The louder I groaned, the harder she fucked me... with long, deep strokes until once again both of us experienced a mutual, deeply satisfying orgasm.

After we'd gotten showered and dressed and went out to breakfast, I didn't even argue with Cindy when she suggested I put on a pair of her shorts and one of her halter tops.

How could I, after she had just made love to me like that? Her position as the aggressor in bed, affected everything. I just couldn't argue with her. About anything.

Slowly I began to accept that Cindy was right. She was naturally Dominant. And I was naturally submissive. The roles just suited us.

So when she told me she wanted me to put on a little lipstick, or she wanted me to wear my CB-2000 to the beach under her woman's one-piece bathing suit with the fringe around the bottom... I didn't say a word. I just did it.

Cindy smiled knowingly. Thankfully she did not tease me about the noticeable change in my attitude.

So it went the rest of the weekend. Cindy took me to Victoria's Secrets and bought me all sorts of sheer lingerie to wear in bed. Wearing her strapon she took me in the shower... on the couch... in the middle of the floor. The night before we left, we even did it on the beach... with me on my hands and knees at the edge of the surf, and her kneeling behind me, slapping her pelvis against my bare ass, filling me with her hard cock.

By the time we left the motel and returned back to the city, I was as agreeable and complacent as a good submissive housewife should be. I got rid of my apartment, sold all of my things, and moved in with Cindy.

In a month Cindy bought us a beautiful 3-bedroom house on a couple of acres outside of the city. I did all the cooking and the housework. In two months, Cindy convinced me to quit my job. By three months she'd thrown away all of my male clothes, and I was dressing entirely as a female.

For some reason the more feminine I become, the more Cindy loves me. I can see it in her eyes. When I bought my first dress and wore it out to dinner with her, her eyes sparkled all evening. I knew that look. That look of love and lust. All I had to do was shave my legs, put on some nylons and a dress, and my wife was absolutely the most horny creature on the planet. She couldn't keep her hands off me.

Yes, at first it felt strange. I wasn't used to wearing high heels and going to the beauty parlor to get my hair and nails done every week. But if it made Cindy happy, if it put the look of love in her eyes, I found myself doing it, and learning to like it.

Nowadays Cindy has me exploring doctors and hormone treatments. She says she wants me to get electrolysis to get rid of the few stray strands of hair on my face, and we are both considering small implants for me.

"I really don't care about raising children," Cindy said. "So if you decide one day that you want to go through sexual reassignment surgery, that's all right with me. But that really has to be your choice pumpkin."

It has been a year now since our wedding day, and truthfully, I've yet to actually make love to my wife in the traditional sense. My penis just does not play a role in the equation. We've both been so happy with our intimacy the way it is, I said, "Ultimately, I'll do whatever you think is best my dear."

Cindy just smiled.