A feminized basket ball player

I couldn’t speak. It was too much information. The fact that my wife had found out about my cross dressing fantasies, the fact that she knew I dreamed of acting like a little slutty girl, about being fucked by men, the fact that I was a cuckold, that she was having sex with my ‘friends’ from the basketball team. I just stared at her in shock. “So you have nothing to say for yourself.” She said authoritatively. “So you are, as I expected, nothing but a little, panty-slut. Is that it?” I found some courage, from where I have no idea.

“I really think you’re making too big a deal out of this. So I have some strange fantasies, so I called a phone sex line to play them out. I mean is that the worst thing in the . . . .” I stopped speaking when my wife slapped me hard across the face. “You had better learn to treat me with more respect. You are not the one who sets the rules around here, do you understand?” I nodded weakly.

“You are right about you having strange fantasies, but you are dead wrong in thinking you can just get away with it. Your friend Misty was nice enough to record a few of your conversations for me.” My wife retrieved a small tape recorder from her purse. “Care to hear how you sound when you play your fairy, cocksucker games?” She, of course, did not wait for a response from me. Instead she pressed the play button and I heard my own voice, the practiced effeminate voice I had mastered. I remembered the conversation, it had only been a few weeks before. I had outlined a new fantasy to Misty. It was centered around me being caught by wife. I stood uncomfortably as I heard Misty mimic the voice of a shocked and surprised lover on discovering her man dressed in her panties and stockings. She forced me to admit what I was. “I am a little panty bitch. I am a little cocksucking whore.” I heard my metallic voice called from the cassette player. My wife shut the tape off.