The Conference Call Pt. 02

My story contains both text messages and emails. Whenever an email is being read I have put it in italics to make it easier to distinguish. I hope you enjoy the story.

Another big thanks to Ramjet86 for editing this work.

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We had dinner and some drinks. At about nine my phone went off signaling I had received a text from her. I opened the text to reveal a photo of her and Joan. It was clear by the background they were sitting at a bar. They both looked great. Short dresses and high heels. Drinks in hand. It looked like they were certainly enjoying themselves.

A second picture appeared. This was just her, with two guys. One on each side.

The message read, “Out with our dates. The one on the left is mine. Handsome, don’t ya think. Bet he’s got a real cock.”

So many emotions. I didn’t know what to think. He was good looking. They both were. I didn’t know what to say. Was I supposed to respond? As a million thoughts ran through my head, the next message appeared.

“Do not respond. But ask yourself, who do you think is having more fun this evening and who is most likely to get lucky tonight.”

Another text quickly followed. “I’m sure you’re out with your friends, so make an excuse or do whatever you need to do to be in your room and in your bed by 10:30, awaiting my instructions.”

A final text appeared stating “Oh and BTW, I haven’t seen him, but I felt him. Without a doubt bigger than you, my sissy husband.”

I didn’t know what to think. She wouldn’t, would she? The rule list flashed through my mind. She could, it was in the rules. But would she. Would she really go through with it? I tried to push it out of my mind, but I couldn’t. The next hour was a blur. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. All I could do was imagine what she was doing. I kept pulling my phone out and looking at that picture.

About the third or fourth time I looked, I saw it. Why hadn’t I seen it before? It was right there, no denying it as plain as day. Her “date”, the guy on the left, had his hand on her thigh. And not just on her thigh, it was up on the hem of her dress. Not far from her…. I got a lump in my throat.

Apparently all my thoughts and feelings were clearly showing on my face. I was suddenly aware of one of the guys asking me if I was okay. He said I didn’t look too good. One of the other guys said I probably just needed another drink. I seized the opportunity and agreed that I wasn’t feeling well and should probably call it a night.

I flew back to my room. Inside I stripped down to my new red panties and contemplated what she would want me to do. Should I keep them on or change into the sissy panties she wanted me to sleep in? I finally decided on the sissy panties. I rationalized that her instructions were for me to be in bed and these were the panties I was instructed to sleep in. Furthermore, she had told me to buy the other panties but had given no instructions about wearing them.

It was about twenty minutes after ten when I climbed in bed and began to wait. Time seemed to drag. 10:30 came and nothing. I stared at my phone trying to will it to ring. 11 came and went, 11:30, midnight. I kept looking at the picture, wondering what they were doing, wondering if they were fucking.

At 12:14 my phone buzzed. It was her. Of course it was her. Who else could it be at this hour? I was almost afraid of opening the text message. As I hesitated, the voice in my head screamed out “Isn’t this what you wanted?” I wasn’t sure what the answer was. I did want her to indulge my kinky fantasies but I didn’t want her fucking other men. I wondered though. If that is the price I have to pay, could I handle it? Finally, I opened the message.

“Hello my sissy husband. Check your email for a message from your Mistress. Complete your tasks and go to sleep. You have to get up early tomorrow. Sweet dreams.”

Then a second message.

“You may say good night to your Mistress.”

I typed, “Good night, Mistress” and considered adding more but thought better of it, lest I break a rule. I hit send and opened my email.

There were two emails. They were labeled open first and open second. I opened the first email and began reading.

My Darling Sissy Husband,

Even though it is late, you have tasks to perform before you go to sleep tonight. A proper sissy husband will make sacrifices to please her Mistress. And though I had a wonderful evening and couldn’t be more happy or content, it pleases me to know you are willing to sacrifice for your Mistress. Therefore you will forgo sleep tonight to please me.

First. Get in the shower and remove all hair from the neck down. A proper sissy has clean, smooth skin. Besides, how could your Mistress possibly find your tiny, little clitty in a jungle of nasty pubes?

Second. You will take the following photographs:

Full body displaying you hair free.

Full body wearing the panties you purchased today.

A close bahis siteleri up of your hair free tiny, little clitty.

Third. You will email me those photographs and only the photographs. You may address me and sign the email “Your Sissy Husband”

Only then may you open email number two.

Mistress

I jumped in the shower as quickly as I could. Fortunately I had a razor, otherwise I don’t know where I would have found one at that hour. I’m not overly hairy to begin with but it still took a considerable amount of time. By the time I finished the razor was trashed.

In the shower I thought about the email. She certainly wanted me to believe that not only had she slept with her date, she had also enjoyed it immensely. Had she really done it or did she just want me to believe she did? I was still unsure about how I felt about the possibility. That aside, there were the other comments. She had never referred to my cock as small and certainly had never used language like that. She had also referred to me as “her”. She was pushing all the right buttons and other than the thought of her fucking another man, I was loving it.

I dried myself off and took the photos she requested, although the third one was a challenge. By her words I was sure she would prefer a picture of a flaccid cock, but in my excited state that was impossible. I could have masturbated and solved the problem but that was against her rules. How would she possibly know. That didn’t matter. I wanted to be good. So I did the only thing I could think of. I put on a pair of shorts and went down the hall and got a bucket of ice. Back in my room I wrapped some in a towel and held it on my crotch until my hard-on subsided.

I opened my email and hit reply to her message. I attached the photographs, signed it, “Your sissy husband” and hit send. Then I opened the second email.

My sissy husband,

I had a wonderful time tonight. Attached you will find a few pictures of your Mistress to give you an idea of just what Joan and I were up to. It’s been a while since I’ve had so much fun in my bed. You may have exactly 10 minutes to look at them. Then you are to delete them, the photos I texted to you earlier and this email and go to sleep. Do not even think about touching my cock. I’ve cum tonight, but you will not.

Your sexually satisfied Mistress

I was petrified. Again, her words, seemed to be saying that she had slept with her date tonight. She wouldn’t have, couldn’t have. My, no, her cock was making a tent inside my panties. There were 5 pictures attached. My hands trembled. I looked at the clock. It was almost 3 am. I wasn’t going to get much sleep tonight and if these pictures showed what I feared they’d show, I probably wouldn’t get any.

I opened the first attachment. This one at least wasn’t so bad. She was on the dance floor with her date. Obviously a slow song. They were cheek to cheek. I did notice his hand was very low on her back. Other than that, nothing to get overly excited about. Conscious of my time limits I moved on rather than linger too long.

I opened the second one. This one was in a brightly lit place, on a couch. My couch. They were in our house. They both had drinks and he had his arm around her.

My heart began racing again. She had brought him to our house. There were still three more pictures. What would I see? Did I want to see? I HAD to see. I opened the third picture.

She was on our bed. Laying there with no shoes but her dress still on with a very clear upskirt view. I could see her panties. She looked amazing. It made me wish I was there. Were it not for the rules that I so desperately wanted to comply with, I would have cum on the spot from the slightest touch. As it was, I had to try to keep still as any movement inside the soft panties I was wearing was bringing me very close to the edge. I looked down at the tent I was making. I was leaking precum, evident by the growing wet spot on the front.

With increasing apprehension, I opened the fourth attachment. My breath caught in my throat. She lay there, propped up by the pillows in only her bra and panties. Legs spread, one knee slightly bent revealing her sex. I was beside myself with lust. My whole body shook. I had seen her like this before. I had seen her naked. But this was so much more revealing, even though she still had the bra and panties on. The pose, combined with the lusty look in her eyes said, ‘Come fuck me’. I was beside myself. This was having an effect on me I never could have imagined. Obviously this was what I wanted, what I needed, what excited me.

I began to wonder what the final picture would show. Would she be completely naked? Would she be having sex with her date? Is that what I wanted to see, him on top of her? There was only one way to find out. I clicked on the attachment.

She was alone. I actually blew a sigh of relief. I think part of me expected, even wanted her to be with him, but I was also very relieved canlı bahis siteleri that she was not. For this last picture, she was on her belly, facing away from the camera, looking over her shoulder very seductively. Again, her eyes spoke, saying, ‘Take me, I’m yours’. I could tell she had removed her bra but I could not see her breasts. She had one leg pulled up which provided a wonderful view of her ass and still panty covered pussy. It was an invitation to dive in. Had I been there I would have had my face buried there in a heartbeat. I wondered if she had allowed her date to bury his cock there.

Time had flown. I realize that more than ten minutes had passed. Not much, maybe a minute or two beyond. But I wondered if somehow she could know the exact time I opened the email and what time I deleted it. I wanted to keep the pictures but knew better. I hit delete, hoping that she would save them and I would get to see them again.

I got under the covers and tried to sleep. It was already after 3 am. Even if I did get to sleep, it would only be a few hours. But I couldn’t sleep. The images of her kept floating through my mind. The bra and panties were new. A matching set that I’d not seen before. The panties were small, not to mention a thong. Something she never wore. She’d always said she found them uncomfortable. Yet she wore them. I wondered why. I told myself they were for my benefit. She had to know I’d be excited seeing her in them.

Then I remembered. Her email said she had cum tonight. She said it had been a long time since she’d had so much fun in bed, or words to that effect. What exactly did she say? I couldn’t go back and look. The email had been deleted. I tried to picture it in my mind. Trying to see the words. But all I could see were the pictures. Then it hit me. The pictures. Who had taken the pictures? They weren’t selfies. Someone else had taken them. Was it him? It would almost certainly have had to have been him. Who else could it have been? She had stripped for him. He had seen her naked. They had fucked. There was no longer a doubt in my mind.

I was going crazy. Here I was, laying in a hotel bed, wearing precum soaked panties imagining her fucking another man in our bed. I wanted to call her, text her, anything. I needed to talk to her and get some answers. I was frantic. I tried to calm myself. I told myself that this is what I had wanted for so many years. Her indulging me now in my kinky fantasies was a game. It had to be a game. She wouldn’t really fuck another man, in our bed, without my knowledge or consent. I kept going back and forth. She did, she didn’t. In the end I decided it didn’t matter. I had agreed to the rules. I wanted this. At least I think I wanted this.

I must have finally drifted off to sleep. When my alarm went off, I woke with the image of her laying on her back, legs wrapped around him. Fully content with a “I just had an amazing orgasm’ look on her face. I was tired. What little sleep I had got was not restful. I slept walked through my morning routine which included washing my panties and hanging them to dry. I went down to the conference and got some much needed coffee. As I began drinking that first cup I thought, I’ll be needing a lot of this today. I checked my email periodically throughout the morning. Nothing from her. I sent her a good morning greeting. No response.

I grabbed lunch with the guys during our midday break. Somebody again commented that I looked like crap. I told them I didn’t get much sleep, which was the truth. I just didn’t tell them why.

It was about 1:30 in the afternoon when my phone vibrated. It was a message from her.

“Good morning my sissy husband.”

Good morning? Did she not know what time it was.

Then the next message.

“I know it’s after noon, but I just woke up, so it’s morning to me. Guess we were up rather late last night.”

“Time flies when you’re getting sexually satisfied, lol.”

We? Who is we? She was fucking all night? He spent the entire night? I didn’t even know who “he” was.

Another buzz.

“You have more assignments.”

I waited. Anticipating another text. Images of them fucking running through my mind.

Then it dawned on me. Stupid, check your email. I looked and sure enough there was a message. I excused myself to the bathroom, grabbed a stall and sat down to read.

Hello my sissy husband,

I’m sure you enjoyed the pictures I sent you. I hope that you did not break any rules. The photos should be gone and my balls should still be full. Your photographs were acceptable but not as good as I expected. You’ll have to make a better effort. Your tiny, little clitty does look cute with no ugly hair hiding it. When you get back we will have to see how it looks inside one of your cages. If you’re lucky, I might just agree to wear the key. I’ve read that real men understand the meaning of that symbolism. It would probably make it easier for me to meet new men in the future.

On canlı bahis to today’s assignments. It’s Tuesday and you will be returning tomorrow night, so we don’t have much time left.

First, you will go to your room and put on the red panties you purchased yesterday. Then you will return to the shop where you bought them. There you will purchase a matching bra for them. Then you will purchase a second set that matches what I was wearing last night in the photos. I do hope you can remember what style and color they were. Are those images burned into your memory? Depending on where you shopped, you may or may not be able to get an exact match. However, your reward or punishment will be determined by how close you come, without cumming, of course, lol. Lastly, you will buy me a pair of the red panties to match yours.

So far I am pleased that you have been following the rules. I am actually enjoying myself more than I thought I would, but then again, how could I not. Last night was amazing.

Enjoy your little shopping spree. Don’t blush too much.

Mistress

PS: I know what must be running through your mind. I planned it this way. Rest assured, all will be explained when you return home. Trust me.

I did trust her. I knew she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize our relationship. Or so I thought and hoped. However, she also didn’t deny fucking another man. Clearly, at the very least, she wanted me to believe it was a possibility. I closed the email and went back to the conference. It was almost over for the day.

I forced myself to push the images of her being fucked by another man out of my head so I could think about how I was going to complete this assignment. What possible plausible story could I come up with that would convince anyone that what I was doing was anything but exactly what I was doing. At another store I might be able to get in and out on my own without assistance or drawing much attention to myself, but at the boutique I stopped at yesterday that would be impossible. I cursed myself for picking a specialty store and not something else. As soon as I walked back into that shop a sales lady was sure to offer assistance.

Having me purchase a matching panty to the ones I bought yesterday assured two things. First, I had to go back to the same shop to assure an exact match. There would be no guarantee of finding an exact match at another location. Second, buying her panties and another set and the other bra in different sizes would surely give me away. I could see no way out of this. Whomever I relied on for assistance, and I would most certainly need it, would know my secret. I would just have to bear the embarrassment. The only other alternative was to not go through with it and suffer the consequences of disobedience, whatever that may entail.

We broke for the day and the guys set a time and place for dinner. I lied and said I was going to my room for a nap. I needed it, but the reality was that I was going to put my red panties on and go shopping.

I stood outside for a while, too nervous to enter. Mustering up as much courage as I could, I hesitantly entered the boutique.

Looking around I was only slightly relieved that the shop was almost completely empty. I didn’t even see her approach and was startled when the same sales lady from yesterday greeted me. In my mind I jumped three feet. In reality it probably was hardly noticeable, if at all.

“Back for that matching bra,” she asked.

I was tongue tied and started stammering.

She just smiled, put her hand on my shoulder and said, “Follow me”.

We walked over to where the bras were displayed and she picked up a red one that seemed to be a perfect match to the panties I had purchased yesterday. Clearly she remembered me. Why wouldn’t she. I’m sure they didn’t get that many men in the store.

“What size?” she asked.

Size. I hadn’t even thought about size. I had no idea. I knew what size she was, but that was because I’d looked at some of the things she had. I couldn’t begin to guess what size I was. I didn’t know what to do or say. I got that nauseous feeling in my gut. My heart begin to race, the blood rushing to my face.

“Surely you’ve looked at the tags on her bras. It will be impossible to get the right fit without her size or measurements.”

I tried to speak. Nothing seemed to come out. I was so embarrassed and nervous. She just stood there with her pleasant smile trying to coax the information out of me.

Finally I said, “She’s a 34B, but…” As my voice drifted off, the sales lady gave me a puzzled look.

“I’m not sure about your lady’s figure but that size seems small compared to the panty size we went with yesterday.”

Then it was like a light bulb went off in her head. Her smile got really big.

Grabbing my arm she said, “I had a feeling about you. Come with me.”

Next thing I know we are in one of the changing rooms and she’s pulling out a tape measure.

“Take your shirt off,” she said.

I must have given her a puzzled look. I know I felt as if I was going to pass out.

“We’ll get a more accurate measurement without the shirt on. This is for you, right?”