That following Saturday morning, as we began to prepare our breakfast, Nancy brought up the subject of my continued feminization. I always knew that after she seriously thought about an idea, she would implement it in sections. This was going to be no different.

“Look at yourself, sweetheart,” she began. “You're in a nightgown, painted nails, with a remnant of lipstick about your mouth.”

“That's from last night, and we were-”

“We girls,” she interjected.

“Yes, 'we girls',” I acknowledged.

Nancy smiled.

“I love your smile,” I remarked as she filled our plates

“And I love the two of you,” she replied, going over to the table.

The two of us! I thought. Wow!

I smiled as I filled our coffee cups.

“What do you like about being a man?”

Her question knocked me for a loop.

“Huh?” That was all I could get out as I wondered what sort of question that was.

“You heard me, what is it about being a man that you like so much?”

“A-a, making love to you,” I stammered.

“Not very convincing,” she flatly remarked, as she took a sip of her coffee. “Lesbians make love.”

“Well, your question sort-a came out of left field.”

“So, being a man is just about sex?”

“No,” I quickly countered. “It's being a husband and father, and taking care of things around here, and... What are you getting at?”

“Just asking,” she quipped as she put a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

My mind was a whirlwind as I tried to figure out this conversation. When I looked over at her, she smiled and went back to her breakfast.

“I'm going to give you a hand this morning,” Nancy remarked as we cleaned up from eating.

“Oh?”

“Yes,” she went on. “If we get things done around here, we girls can go shipping before Peter comes over.”

“Pe-, Peter is coming over?” I stammered.

“Is there a problem?”

“A-usually we, a, plan this,” I replied, hurt by her revelation.

“Well, Harriet, he isn't around,” she quipped as she kissed me on the cheek.

I felt myself being overcome with feelings of impotence and betrayal. I was sure she was testing me, to see Harry's reaction, but standing there dressed as Harriet, I accepted.

~~~~~

Our shopping excursion resulted in a few items for both of us, lunch, and me admitting that I have grown to enjoy shopping. Nancy was very happy with this acknowledgment and remarked that I was quickly becoming her best girlfriend. In the privacy of our car, with her driving, she would softly address the need for me to “...further explore your femininity”. I have never been sure if it was a sexual charge or a mental recognition of what I was beginning to believe was truly me, but I embraced her words.

As we went about our activities, I kept looking at Nancy and thinking about tonight. I could picture the two of them, banging away toward their mutual satisfaction. Looking around at the other women, I wondered how many of them knew they were going to get laid that night, or how many of the married ones were going to get laid with their husbands watching. The thoughts gave me an erection, and the need to keep my purse in front, but with movement and conversation, the situation passed.

~~~~~

It was late afternoon when we returned home, and Nancy complimented me on my improved mannerisms and voice quality as we put things away. Then, with a big smile on her face, she said, “We have a man coming over a little later, so we need to get ready.”

I looked at her and smiled. She blew me a kiss.

She threw a new curve when she told me that we would not be showering together. She remarked that a woman needs her privacy and that, in time, I would understand. It was a shocker, and a disappointment, but the fact that she was thinking of me as a woman eased that hurt. While she showered, I practiced my mannerisms, even put on the heels we'd bought today.

When she had finished, I took mine, and on coming out, she reminded me to go downstairs and flush my backside. I thought it a waste of water as I had done my morning flush with her watching, but I did as told. As the nearly clear water spewed out, I tried to remember the last time I'd actually had a bowel movement.

Few words were exchanged as Nancy applied my makeup, but I could see the excitement in her eyes. She truly enjoyed his visits, and if asked, I would have told her I did too. He was a gentle lover and always attentive to her needs. With Greg and Dan I felt like I was trying to play catch-up with younger people, but with Peter, there was a mutual respect. I think we truly enjoyed one another's company.

~~~~~

“Good evening, ladies,” Peter said as Nancy welcomed him.

“Good evening,” Nancy greeted as he took her in his arms, and they engaged in a passionate kiss. I stood silently watching, still very uncomfortable with this act.

“And good evening to you, pretty lady,” he said to me after they had parted, and he took me in his arms.

We embraced in a deep kiss. It was the first time that I'd ever kissed him like this, and I was surprised by his tongue. It was much like Nancy's in that it was smooth and almost slick. My member sprang to life, and I was sure he felt it against his body. I felt I had embarrassed myself.

“It feels like Harriet is glad to see me,” he quipped as we parted.

“Oh?” Nancy remarked as we all looked down at the bulge in the front of my dress.

I felt my face redden.

“Harriet? Really?” Nancy chastised. “I told you to take care of that in the shower!”

“I did,” I argued.

“Well, apparently not enough. Excuse us, Peter,” she said, then took me by the arm. “Come on.”

We went to the kitchen where she had me jack off into a wine glass as she bemoaned my problem.

“Ah, the ladies have returned,” he said as he stood up.

“Please take your seat while Harriet pours our drinks,” Nancy said.

I handed each of them a glass, and then poured mine, my cum floating on the top.

“You've been on my mind all day,” Peter said to Nancy as they clicked their glasses.

“How sweet,” she answered as she sipped.

Remaining silent, I raised my glass to them, then sipped, sucking in my cum and swallowing.

“Good wine,” he complimented.

“Thank you, Harriet,” Nancy said.

“Very good,” he said to me with a nod.

“Thank you,” I replied demurely.

I watched as the two of them engaged in small talk, sipping their wine, with a laugh or a giggle. I sat in silence, watching.

To the outsider, this scenario would be difficult, if not impossible, to understand or accept. For me, watching them gave me a degree of satisfaction. My wife was happy, and that made me happy. It was a joy that only a like-minded person could understand.

I looked on as they kissed, and his hand went to her thigh. Having tasted his tongue, I could no longer object to them kissing. Never had I ever experienced such. Sitting there, I was sure I could taste him myself. My mouth began to water.

“Harriet,” Nancy said. “Why don't you go pull down the bed covers?”

“Yes, ma'am,” I dutifully answered, as I stood up and went toward the playroom.

Peter came into the room, carrying Nancy. Both were naked.

“Sit on your plug,” Nancy ordered as Peter laid her on the bed.

“Yes, ma'am.” I applied some lube to the head of the plug, pulled off my panties, and took it up my back door.

With a growing erection, I watched them.

“Pe-pee,” Nancy attempted to say his name as they banged away in near unison.

Her ample breasts shifted up with each thrust he made into her, then settling back. She pressed her fingers into his upper arms as she encouraged him. He continued to thrust. Their breathing was rapid, and I knew they were close. Looking down at mine, it pulsed with pre-cum oozing out of the head.

A loud gasp, and her legs tightly wrapped around him, told me she had come. Another couple of thrusts and he was there. I watched the cheeks of his butt tense with each shot of cum into my wife's hole. After a brief reprieve, I cleaned them up.

This had become a true treat. The man who had just given my wife so much pleasure, watching me gingerly engulf and clean his tool. His flaccid member, both slick and sticky, was easily twirled by my tongue. Anyone who has had a soft dick in their mouth knows what I'm talking about. Then, I turned my attention to my beloved wife. She looked down at me and smiled.

"Your cuck is hard again,” Peter remarked, after I had finished cleaning her.

“So I see,” Nancy answered.

I smiled as she told me to jack off. With a nod, I took hold of my not fully erect member and began the pumping. Peter lay down behind Nancy and wrapped his arms around her as they watched. When he kissed her neck, she smiled, and for some reason that I can't explain, it made me happy, and I smiled at both of them.

“Your cuck appears happy,” Peter observed.

“Yes,” she said with a smile.

“I think he could use some help,” Peter quipped.

Nancy got up, went to a drawer, and got out a vibrator which she applied to the underside of the head. It was a welcome relief to an arm that had grown tired. The stimulation quickly registered in a nervous system that was tired of working, as it slowly began to respond.

Anyone who has ever been made to go to this limit knows exactly what I'm talking about. There is no pleasure here. It is an extreme discomfort that seems to switch from pain to an ache, and back. It's a feeling back there behind the prostate and in front of the anus. A hurting discomfort, like the body is trying to twist and punch at once, making the backdoor feel almost like it is pushing.

Finally, a slight movement, a painful contraction, and the little guy heaved and spat.

“A drop?” Nancy observed.

“I'd say your cuck is empty,” Peter observed.

“So it appears,” Nancy agreed with a smile.

The two of them left for the living room while I pulled the sheets and cleaned up.

Anyone who has been force to cum as often as I had, knows how painfully exhausting this is. My limbs shook, and I had trouble maintaining my balance or holding anything. Additionally, there was a hurt deep within my groin that made moving and standing painful. A painful knot 'sat' at the prostate and back to the rectum. Looking down at my spent penis, it hung small with what appeared to be splotchy dark red areas that gave it a bruised look.

“You agreed,” I said aloud to myself. “Live with it.”

“Well, there's 'ol empty cuck,” Peter joked as I entered the room.

“Yes sir,” I replied with a slight bow.

“He's impotent, but we can go again,” Peter said as he sipped his wine.

“Let's,” Nancy replied, her face alight with anticipation.

Following their instructions I sucked him to an erection. Then Nancy positioned herself as I took hold of him, parted her lips, and guided him into her. Then I sat back on my hunches and watched.

One would think that I would be jealous watching my wife again enjoy the pounding of another man, but I didn't, as we now had a contract.

It was our twenty-seventh wedding anniversary. We had gone out for dinner and a movie. Upon our return home, where I was expecting sex, Peter was waiting with flowers and wine. Nancy had left the back door unlocked for him. After some chit-chat and wine, they had sex, and I did clean up. As they sipped and talked, I was ordered to jack off. After a while, we retired to the bedroom where they again had sex. I did clean up, and again jacked off. As we left the room, Nancy, addressing me as Harriet, instructed me to get dressed.

Upon my return, Nancy handed me a folder, and in it was a “cuckold contract”. This contract spelled out our roles, many of which we were already doing, or partially doing, and still others that were totally foreign to me, with some flat out scaring me. After a few words of assurance from her, I signed it.

To celebrate I again had to jack-off, then suck Peter to erections and they again had sex. I did clean up and struggled to again jack-off. That night was the first anniversary that we did not consummate.

~~~~~

“Here,” Nancy said as she handed me a blanket as we prepared to end the night.

I looked at her, puzzled.

“As my cuckold, you're sleeping on the floor at the foot of my bed.”

Not thinking, I opened my mouth to object, and she slapped me.

“Floor, now,” she ordered, pointing.

“Yes ma'am,” I replied with a bow.

I spread it out on the floor, lay down, and rolled up in it.

“Are you hurting at all?” She asked me after turning off the light and getting into bed.

“My groin area is, yes ma'am,” I replied.

“I want to tell you that you did very good, tolerating all the abuse,” she went on.

“Thank you, ma'am.”

In the morning, we'll have to hit you again and see just how empty you'll be,” she remarked.

“Yes, ma'am,” I replied as I cringed at the thought.

“I love you,” she said. I replied in kind, and soon we were both asleep.

The following morning, waking before her, I quietly made my way into the kitchen to start breakfast. I was stiff and sore from sleeping on the floor, and wondering if this was going to become the norm.

“Harriet, a woman should not be running around the house naked unless she plans on having sex,” Nancy said as she entered the room, breaking my train of thought.

“I-I'm sorry, but I didn't want to disturb your sleep,” I said with a slight bow.

“It looks bruised,” she observed, pointing at my penis. “Does it hurt?”

“A little,” I replied.

“Come on,” she ordered with a wave of her hand.

In the bedroom, she took out a vibrator and held it under the head of my limp lizard. With a bit of a smile, she turned it on.

I flinched as what she was doing hurt, and Nancy told me to stand still. It was an uncomfortable hurt. The kind without sharp pains that resonated from head to base and further.

“You're cumming,” she quipped.

The orgasm was not pleasurable. Imagine cumming with a hard object up your butt, and a deep bruise between it and your sac. Each contraction hurt, causing my legs to buckle slightly, and what little ejaculate I caught in my hand.

“Not much, and you didn't get hard,” she said as I licked my hand.

“Isn't that what the two of you wanted?” I asked. “Me limp?”

“Shouldn't you be? I mean, as a cuckold, it's my pleasure, not yours,” she stated.

“Yes ma'am,” I replied with a slight bow.

“Good. As such, you really don't need it,” Nancy remarked with a smile. “You know, if modern science wanted to do us a favor, they'd figure out a way to dry out the prostate so that when a cuckold cums he'd just throb a few times with nothing to squirt,” she went on.

I smiled.

“You like that idea, huh?” she inquired. “No manly cum. Now, get dressed; you've got work to do, and my sister and I are going out.”

As per her instructions, I was soon approvingly dressed in jeans, blouse and sneakers, and given a to-do list, which we were going over when her sister arrived. I gave a curtsy as she entered the house. She ignored me. With a final reminder to maintain my femininity when running errands, she gave me a kiss on the forehead, said that they'd have supper out, picked up her purse, and went out the door. I stood at the door and waved them off.

I have to admit that I envied them. They were real women, with voice, build, and mannerisms, and would have no problems going about their day as women. I, on the other hand, would struggle with worry while out in public. She instructed that when I went to the bank, I transact business inside with a teller.

“Well Harriet, you'd better get your pussy in gear,” I laughingly said aloud.

~~~~~

I had a very positive day, both cleaning the house and mowing the yard. I'm not sure how much the neighbors know, but I was at the point that I no longer cared. I had gotten everything done that Nancy had on her list, and as I sat watching the evening news, I heard the car pull up. I removed the tissue from under my skirt and headed for the door.

“Good evening, ma'am,” I said with a curtsy as Nancy entered.

“Good evening, Harriet,” she replied as she handed me several bags. “Did you get everything done?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Good. Have you had supper?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Good,” she continued as she gave me a peck on the cheek.

“I also think I have the solution to my erections getting in the way,” I nervously began.

“Really, and what is that?”

Naked under my dress, my hand shook slightly as I lifted my skirt. She looked at the vertical line of stitches, and her face turned a ghostly white.

“My god! You cut it off!”

She looked at me in disbelief, her beautiful brown eyes expressing panic. I stood there grinning.

“You cut your dick off! Why?”

“What? You don't like it?” I coyly asked as I slightly sashayed my hips.

“How? Why? W-what? You could've bled to death. Are you crazy?”

“I obviously didn't bleed to death, and it might surprise you how I did what I did,” I quipped as I enjoyed having the upper hand.

“I don't believe it,” she said, as she dropped onto the sofa, her head in her hands, as she shook it. “You cut your dick off! You cut your dick off!” she muttered.

“No worries, I cleaned things up. No blood,” I added, as I continued to enjoy the satisfaction at what I had done.

“Why the fuck did you do that!? What on earth would possess you to cut your dick off? Why? What?”

I started to say something when she broke down crying, and I realized my joke had backfired.

“I-I didn't, it's... it's here,” I stammered. “I just stuffed it down in the shaft and sewed it shut.”

Her eyes quickly dried as they filled with rage, and she got to her feet.

Oh shit, I thought.