Announcement
By DX
A woman announces to her husband a few changes in their life. She makes him legally sign over his life and become her personal, cock sucking sissy faggot!
Femdom, sissy, permanent chastities, surgical implants!
Copyrighted 7/2017, 5/2023, all rights reserved.
Teaser, For the whole story, click here!
Thank you for your support!
His face was emotionless as the lawyer laid each form before him, and explained in absolute detail what they were for. First, was signing over his savings, bank accounts, 401k, everything in his life with value, to me.
His hand trembled as he picked up the pen. His eyes flicked up to me, and then to the form, before he scrawled his signature quickly.
He signed his life away.
I made him wear a suit and tie. I don’t know why, maybe to make it all so official. It would certainly be the last time he ever wore a suit again.
The next forms took the house out of his name and put it into mine.
Then the cars.
Mine.
He signed until he had absolutely nothing.
Fifteen years of marriage had culminated to this.
I thought he was going to cry as she set out the divorce papers.
We were normal in the beginning. Man and wife and future bright. We were happy too. It was our third year, or maybe forth, when it began innocently enough; rabbit fur cuffs and velvet paddles. We giggled as we tried to figure out who got to tie up whom. Gradually, rabbit fur graduated to leather, then rope, and then steel. The paddle changed from friendly spanks and blushing bottoms to bruises, then welts, then contusions seeping blood.
Somewhere in there it was no longer who was going to tie up whom. It would be me doing the tying. I announced it embarrassingly, “I want to tie you up.” And then I did, following the pictures from a Shinbari ‘how-to’ book. Seeing him helpless was a distinct turn on; flopping around on the bed, trying to lick my pussy while trying to stave off my cat-of-nine tails, was an absolute thrill.
I switched to handcuffs. There’s a reason why the cops use them; quick on, quick off. No wasting time dealing with yards and yards of rope. I’d come home from work, drag him into the bedroom, cuff him spread eagled and sit on his face until he made me come or he suffocated. A few times I did grind my pussy so hard into his face, cutting off his mouth and nose, that he ‘whited’ out.
We went from a couple hours on the weekend to whole weekends. After a while, bondage and beating his ass became the normal. When he complained, there were more beatings.
Year Six, I think it was, I announced I was canceling our vacation plans. I cuffed him, spanked him, and told him he would spend the next two weeks pleasing me. He agreed, still thinking it was just our little sex game.
At the time I did too.
How wrong we were.
I announced he would wear a French Maid’s outfit. He cooked, cleaned and serviced me and I laughed out loud as I watched him through the front window as he took the garbage out to the curb and had to explain to our neighbor he had lost a bet. He whined at me when he got back in so I gagged him, cuffed him, and put him in the trunk at the end of our bed. Asphyxiation was a real threat so I let him out after a while, but made him sleep on the floor while I sat in bed with my lap-top and ordered a cage on-line. It would be big enough for him to stay crouched in but I could leave him in it for longer periods.
Although the vacation had ended, I still demanded he do all the cooking and chores. I did imply it was because my job was so demanding (and it was), but also mentioned I was the main breadwinner, ooooh, another deadly strike into his dwindling ego. I bought him ‘how-to’ videos to improve his domestic skills and demand he study them carefully. His response was to become passive-aggressive, which I did not tolerate for a second. I locked him in his little cage all weekend and fed him only watery broth until he begged to be let out, promising to do better.
Sometime after that I announced he would do something about his body hair. He had scrawly, sporadic body hair that I thought was rather unkempt. “If I have to shave my body, so do you!” I wanted him clean and smooth and to help facilitate that he would start taking natural herbal feminine hormone supplements as well as shaving. I told him he would look hot and man-sculpted. “All the guys are doing it these days.”
I didn’t want him to be a woman, as if that is some, demeaning thing, but I didn’t want him to be a man either. I didn’t have a plan as to what I wanted because I didn’t know what I wanted. Neither of us did. I guess I wanted to break down his psyche to make him more pliable and certainly less argumentative; and when I say, argumentative, I mean whiny. I sincerely didn’t think the supplements would do anything but I thought the mental idea of it would mess with him.
And that was where I was getting off. Messing with him.
The more ‘not fun’ it was for him, the more of a turn on it was for me. I didn’t understand it then and I don’t think I fully understand it now, here in the lawyer’s office. As he scripted every letter of his name on the divorce documents, I could see hidden in the tiny wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, the twitch of pain like my riding crop leaving red ribbons crossing the back of his skinny thighs. He was getting nothing. No stipend, no alimony, and no liability, meaning he couldn’t come back and sue me later.
Who could imagine it would come to this? Back then we still thought it was a game that would only go so far.
Wrong, wrong, wrong!
The female supplements actually worked. His body hair thinned noticeably and he didn’t have to shave as often. I flattered him by telling him how much I enjoyed his look and announced I had made an appointment for him at a salon. “It’s a man thing now. It’s how men look their best.” It wasn’t until we had arrived that he realized it was the first in a series of sessions in electrolysis to permanently remove his body hair. All of it. He protested but I told him they were already paid for. Besides, what did he need body hair for anyway? “On you it only looks stupid: a throw back to Neolithic man.”
His face was beet red as the clinician started on his balls!
I struggled not to laugh as he looked so much like a sad, little boy. Once we got home I rewarded him by chaining him to the bed and giving him a slow hand job, stopping each time he was about to climax before letting him finally come in a whiskey glass. I then gagged him with a funnel, added a little water to the glass, swirled it to get it mixed, and poured it down his mouth, forcing him to swallow his own cum. I announced from then on if ever he came he would swallow his semen.
Teaser, For the whole story, click here!
Thank you for your support!
Copyrighted 2017/2023 all rights reserved.
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