I was upstairs when I heard the doorbell ring and Laura going to answer it. Suddenly, I froze in fear, nobody had ever seen me like this, in my slutty feminine form, except for my wife and son. I was terrified lest my secret identity as a submissive sissy who liked to watch his own son fucking his wife was known to the world. I could hear several voices downstairs before footsteps coming up to the bedroom where I waited.
“Come on sissy,” my wife said, coming into the room, dressed in a little black dress and stockings, “There’s some people waiting to see you downstairs.”
“What? No,” I said, stubbornly, “I can’t go in front of people like this,” I looked down at the way I was dressed, just like a whore, “I just can’t.”
“Don’t be stupid, sissy,” she replied, “You’re coming down and that’s that. Don’t forget who’s in charge around here. If you want to keep tasting that juicy cock then you’ll do just what we want!”
What was I to do? I was so much under the thumb of anything my wife and son wanted that I could no longer resist any humiliation. Anything they demanded of me, I not only did, but liked it and was rewarded at the end with the nice, salty cum I had come to love so much. I guess a stronger man would have refused, but then a real man wouldn’t have let themselves get into a situation where their wife thought them so little of a man she slept with her own son. A real man wouldn’t have let his son force him to dress like a slutty woman to suck his cock. So I guess there was no pretending I was a real man anymore. And I guess I was always going to do what Adam and Laura asked of me.
So, I found myself tottering downstairs after my wife, struggling to walk in my six inch heeled kinky PVC boots. Although I was so submissive as to follow any command, I was still getting pretty nervous, my heart was in my mouth. Who were these people? Why did my family want to introduce me to them? And what on earth was going to happen? I was incredibly nervous but also could feel my cock becoming a little aroused at the prospect of some strange new things that might happen.
My wife opened the door of the living room and walked in, with me coming through behind her. I don’t know what, or who, I expected to see as I entered the room, but still, when confronted with what was there, I got the shock of my life. My hunky son was there, sat on the sofa in jeans and a tight t-shirt that showed off his rippling muscles, but there were three other people in the room as well. Three people that I recognised, that I knew very well. Next to my son on the sofa sat my wife’s sister, Helen, and across the room, still standing, were my nephews, her two sons, Matt and Chris.
Helen was a couple of years older than my wife, taller and skinnier, without my wife’s curves and incredible breasts. She was not quite so beautiful but still looked pretty great for a woman in her late forties. She was dressed in a simple blouse and knee length skirt. Her sons were aged 19 and 21, both tall and thin as well. They were quite good looking although not such incredible specimens of muscular masculinity as my son. To be honest, I had seen them grow up and had not ever really thought of them as possibly vigorous, sexual kinds of guys but they were at that age now where they had to be. Helen, however, I had occasionally entertained fantasies about, such as is quite usual, I imagine, with the close sisters of your wife, or something similar.
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