Of course

Wearing the new underwear my wife bought, boy shorts she called them, did not make me a sissy, after all, they were BOY shorts. Right?

Of course not, my wife said helpfully, soon replacing all my boxer shorts with boy shorts in different pastel colors and soft fabrics.

Wearing the new cotton tops my wife bought, camisoles she called them, did not make me a sissy, after all, they were cotton, no different than tee shirts I usually wore to bed. Right?

Of course not, my wife said helpfully, soon replacing all my tee shirts with camisoles in pretty feminine designs.

Wearing the new pretty silk set my wife bought for me, a camisole and tap panty set she called it, did not make me a sissy, after all, while pretty and soft, it was no different than the cotton sets I'd been wearing. Right?


Of course not, my wife said helpfully, buying me several silk and satin sets and insisting I wear them to bed.

Wearing the black one piece sleepwear my wife bought for me, a teddy she called it, did not make me a sissy, after all, while pretty and soft, it was not much different than the camisole and tap panty sets I'd been wearing. Right?

Of course not, my wife said helpfully, showing me how to fold my penis back between my legs, out of the way, so the teddy fit and looked proper. We don't need this, she told me, that's only something a man needs.

But what am I, I asked.

Shhh, she told me, don't worry about it, don't worry.

Wearing the long opaque socks my wife bought for me, thigh highs she called them, did not make me a sissy, after all, they were just like socks I usually wore, just a shiny and longer. Right?

Of course not, my wife said helpfully, helping me into the the first time, telling me to pack up all my old socks, that I wouldn't need them anymore.

Wearing the sheer long thigh highs my wife bought for me, lace top stockings she called them, did not make me a sissy, after all, they were just like opaque ones I had been wearing, just sheer and with a little lace. Right?

Of course not, my wife said helpfully, helping me into the the first time, telling me to pack up all my old socks, that I wouldn't need them anymore.

Wearing the stockings my wife bought for me, with lines in the back (full fashioned stockings she called them) and a tight garment around my waist to hold them up (a garter belt she called it)m, did not make me a sissy, after all, they were just like other stockings I had been wearing, just with this garter belt (and matching panties and a bra, too). Right?

Of course not, my wife said helpfully, filling the bra with two heavy objects that looked just like breasts, just to fill it out, she told me.

Wearing all the lingerie my wife bought for me, and a short skirt and a satin blouse, and makeup, with long hair, and heels and pretty nails, and carrying a purse. Why, that...that doesn't make me a sissy, right? No more than the...the toy she bought (the strap-on, she calls it), the one she likes to make me kiss and lick (and suck)...the one she likes to touch me with (push into my pussy ass, as she calls it. That doesn't make me a sissy, right?

Of course it does, my wife said helpfully, resting on top of me, her strap-on (her cock, she sometimes calls it), buried deep inside me. Of course it makes you a sissy. All of it, all of it does.