I was dumbfounded that the woman I first saw coming towards me with what Ithought was disgust in her eyes, was really a rougher, blunted extension ofmy darling wife, my Mistress Claire. Judy seemed perfectly happy to takecommand of me and my sissy needs. She proved herself nonjudgmental in myquest for the perfect sissy lipsticks but she was also stern with me inkeeping me in my place, lower that even men in her female faultlessestimation. It was like Mistress Claire had sent a guardian angel to watch,fondly and dispassionately, over her budding sissy property.Now that sniveling property had to get back to the task at hand, myhumiliation and sissification. Judy was willing and able to drag me downthat girlish path with me screaming like a girl."OK, Sissy Wendy, you look a lot more comfortable now with your lipspainted BubbleGum Pink. Isn't it amazing how just a little lipstick canmake a girl or a sissy more at home with yourself? I know that when youcame in the door, prancing and. The same outfit I'd worn to the Percherons, and then to that Night club where half the BiGirls had disappeared with men who were not their husbands, and I had barely escaped with my virtue."Let's go out!" I said. "Meet some people. I want to party!"She looked at me peculiarly for a long while, and seemed to make up her mind about something. Then she sat down in a soft chair, solidly, and put her feet on a hassock. "Why go out?" she asked. "We can party right here."And we did. She leaned back and spread her legs wide open to me, and said, "Now give me a real, wet, sloppy kiss, girlfriend!" So I did. I licked her the way a little girl would lick the cunt of an older girl, or her dearest friend's pussy, and I tongued her the way a proper young lady would tongue the most respected of high society cunts, and then the way a starved whore would do it. I sank my face into her as if I wanted it to disappear and never re-emerge, and as her loins relaxed and her thighs spread wide, I sucked and.
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