A Devoted Husband - Crossdressing Story

 

Sissy Sushmita, formerly known as Suresh, wakes up well before the

sunrise. The soft glow of the nightlight casts an ethereal hue across

the room as he slips out of his skimpy nighty, revealing his enhanced,

surgically altered form. He pads over to the bathroom, sits down to pee

adjusting his leash and his chastity. Removes his 10" long, and thick

butt plug and takes a dump, he feels empty without it, as its

permanently lodged inside him, except when he is in bathroom, or getting

fucked. He then goes to the shower and letting the warm water wash over

his body. As he lathers himself up, he admires his new, curvaceous

figure in the mirror, the weight of his massive breasts pressing against

his chest. He also cleans his butt plug thoroughly. After a leisurely

soak, he steps out of the shower and begins his morning ritual. He puts

his butt plug back in, making sure its secure, shuddering as it

penetrates and fills his prostate.

 

He dons a transparent saree without any undergarments, making his

pierced nipples and pierced cock on chastity belt visible through the

sheer fabric. The saree drapes loosely around his body, accentuating his

wide hips and full buttocks.

 

Sushmita takes his time in selecting jewelry for the day. He adorns his

ears with long, heavy, noisy earrings that tinkle with every movement. A

big nose ring hangs from his left nostril, drawing attention to his

prominent feature. A choker necklace sits snugly around his throat, its

ends dangling between his pierced nipples. He fastens a big, heavy

mangalsutra around his neck, the weight of it emphasizing his feminine

contours. A long, beautiful sindoor runs down the parting of his hair,

drawing a sharp contrast against his jet-black tresses. He places a

bindi on his forehead, right between his eyebrows.

 

Makeup is applied in layers, highlighting his features and accentuating

his feminine allure. His eyelids are lined with kajal, his eyebrows are

expertly arched, and his lips are painted a deep, luscious shade of red.

A big maangtika sits atop his head, holding back his long hair, framing

his face. Noisy anklets adorn his feet, announcing his every step as he

walks.

 

Sushmita takes a moment to admire his reflection in the mirror. He is

beyond stunning, he thinks to himself, feeling a wave of contentment

wash over him. He grabs his keys and walks out of the bedroom, making

sure not to wake up his beloved mistress, Rachita.

 

The house is quiet as he makes his way through the hallways, carefully

avoiding creaking floorboards. He knows that his mistress likes

everything to be perfect when she wakes up, and he won't dare disappoint

her.

 

As he descends the stairs, his anklets tinkling with every step, he can

already smell the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the

air. It's the same blend that Rachita has been drinking since they met,

and it instantly transports him back to their first date when he was

still a strong, confident man.

 

The kitchen is bustling with activity as he prepares a sumptuous

breakfast for his mistress. He expertly flips dosas in the skillet, the

sizzling sound filling the air. A delicious coconut chutney sitting on

the counter, and sambar are simmering on the stove, releasing their

enticing aromas. He hums to himself, lost in thought, his mind wandering

back to the life he once had.

 

With breakfast ready, he carefully carries the tray into their bedroom.

The curtains are drawn, allowing only a soft, diffused light to filter

through. Rachita's long, dark hair is splayed across the pillow, her

features still soft and peaceful in sleep. He kneels by the side of the

bed and gently kisses her feet, as is the custom in their house. The

touch of his lips feels warm against her skin, a contrast to the cool

air in the room.

 

Rachita stirs, her eyelids fluttering open. She blinks several times,

trying to adjust to the light, before focusing on him. Her eyes widen in

surprise and a small smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.

 

"Mistress," he says, his voice steady. "I've brought you breakfast." He

hands her the tray, his fingers brushing against hers as they do so.

Rachita takes a bite of the dosa, her eyes closing in contentment.

"Thank you, sissy," she murmurs between bites. "You're the best sissy

husband a woman could ask for."

 

He blushes, ducking his head. "Thank you, Mistress." He kneels across

from her, watching her eat. She looks so beautiful, even with her hair

mussed from sleep. He can't help but feel a pang of longing, remembering

what it was like to be her lover before all this. To be the one she came

home to, not the other way around.

 

After breakfast, Rachita excuses herself to the bathroom. As she walks,

he crawls behind kissing her ass, his lips lingering on the soft,

rounded flesh. When she sits down on the toilet, he kisses her feet, his

tongue darting out to trace circles around her Achilles tendon. The

sensation sends a shiver down her spine.

 

When she's finished, he takes a deep breath and stands up, ready to

clean her. He grabs a warm, damp cloth from the sink and gently cleans

her. Once she's clean, he turns his attention to her ass, slowly running

the cloth over her cheeks, paying special attention to the crease where

her cheeks meet her thighs.

 

He then picks up a toothbrush from the vanity, and puts toothpaste on

it, and gives it to his mistress. As mistress brushes her teeth, he goes

to run her bath. He turns on the water, adjusting the temperature until

it's just right, then he adds a few drops of lavender oil to the tub.

The scent fills the air, creating a relaxing atmosphere.

 

While the bath is running, he lays out her clothes for the day on the

bed: a crisp, white cotton sari and a light, blue silk blouse. He takes

out her jewelry box and selects a pair of delicate earrings and a simple

gold chain with a pendant that she often wears. He places them on the

dresser, ready for her to put on later.

 

Finally, it's time for her makeup. He has already set up her vanity with

all of her favorite products. He begins by applying a light foundation,

using a damp sponge to blend it seamlessly into her skin. Then, he

carefully lines her eyes with black kohl, accentuating her already-

striking features. He takes a deep breath, feeling a mixture of pride

and longing as he does so.

 

For her lips, he chooses a deep red shade, carefully applying it to her

lips and then blending it outwards. The color brings life to her face,

making her look radiant. As he steps back to admire his work, he can't

help but wonder if she'll ever see him as more than just her sissy

husband. Will she ever love him the way she used to?

 

He takes one final look at his handiwork in the mirror before picking up

a towel and folding it neatly, placing it on the end of the bed.

"Mistress," he says softly, "your bath is ready."

 

She turns and climbs into the bath, letting out a contented sigh. "That

feels wonderful," she murmurs, running her hands through the water. He

kneels beside the tub, taking a cloth and wetting it with warm water. He

gently washes her hair, massaging her scalp as he does so.

 

"Would you like me to shampoo your hair?" he asks. She nods, leaning

back against the edge of the tub. He takes a small bottle of shampoo

from the side of the tub and squirts a generous amount into his palm. He

begins to work it into her hair, making sure to get all the soap out.

Once he's finished, he rinses it out thoroughly.

 

He helps her out of the tub, carefully drying her off with a towel. He

blots her face with a separate towel, making sure she's completely dry

before leading her to her vanity.

 

He puts her bra, next, he takes her silk blouse and slips it over her

head, helping her button it up. He then helps her into her sari, draping

the bright white cloth around her body and tying it securely at her

waist. The white border of the sari brings out the color of her eyes,

making her look even more stunning. She sits down on vanity for her

makeup.

 

He sits down on a small stool in front of her. He carefully puts the

delicate gold earrings into her ears, making sure they're secure. "And

your necklace," he says, holding out the gold chain with the tiny

pendant. She nods, and he fastens it around her neck.

 

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his hands as he begins to apply

her lipstick. He uses a brush, carefully painting the color onto her

lips. It's a deep shade of red, almost like the color of the inside of

her favorite roses. He puts eyeliner, mascara, and minimal makeup to

complete her look.

 

He steps back, admiring his work in the mirror. Her makeup is flawless,

and she looks absolutely stunning. He swallows hard, feeling a mix of

arousal and longing wash over him. "There," he says, his voice catching

in his throat. "You look beautiful, mistress"

 

Rachita looks in the mirror, and giggles, as she sees their figures in

the mirror. She turns to face her sissy husband, Sushmita. Sushmita,

dressed in a transparent sari, glitters with gold jewelry and makeup

that accentuates his features perfectly. Rachita, on the other hand, is

dressed in a simple white saree, with only a pair of silver earrings and

a delicate chain around her neck.

 

"You look stunning, Sushmita," Rachita compliments, running her hands

through his hair. "I'm so glad you're my husband." She takes a deep

breath, feeling a surge of love and affection for him.

 

They walk together to the car, their steps synchronized. As he chauffers

to her office, Rachita can't help but feel a sense of amusement and

possessiveness over her sissy. Despite being a man, Sushmita is the

perfect embodiment of a traditional Indian houswife, and slave. His long

hair, shimmering earrings, and delicate features make him stand out

among the other drivers on the road.

 

When they reach her office, Rachita quickly steps out of the car. She

waves goodbye, watching as he drives back home, looking every bit the

part of the perfect sissy husband.

 

Stepping inside her opulent office, she is greeted by her assistant, a

beautiful young woman named Priya. Priya, dressed in a crisp business

suit, looks up from her desk with a small smile on her lips. "Good

morning, mistress," she says, offering Rachita a cup of chai.

 

"Good morning, Priya," Rachita replies, accepting the tea gratefully. "I

trust that everything went well while I was away?"

 

"Yes, mam. Your meeting with the foreign investors went extremely well,

and they have expressed a strong interest in investing in our company.

Your reputation as a capable and intelligent businesswoman precedes

you." Priya takes a sip of her tea before continuing.

 

She walks over to her desk and sits down in her plush chair, taking a

sip of her chai, thinking of what Sushmita will be doing then.

 

Their home, a grand mansion nestled in the heart of the city, was built

to accommodate an extensive family. There were multiple rooms and

bathrooms to be cleaned, each one meticulously maintained to Rachita's

high standards. Sushmita took pride in his work, always ensuring that

every inch of the house was spotless. He would spend hours dusting the

ornate chandeliers, polishing the marble floors, and scrubbing the gold

fixtures until they shone brighter than ever. Even the intricate details

of the bathrooms, like the tile grout and the faucets, received his

undivided attention.

 

He was particularly diligent when it came to cleaning the master bedroom

suite, where his mistress, Rachita, would spend most of her time. He

would use a special toothbrush to clean the intricate moldings around

the ceiling, making sure that not a single speck of dust was left

behind. The windowsills, the mirrors, and even the frames of the

paintings were all meticulously cleaned, and the air was fresh with the

scent of lavender and jasmine.

 

After finishing with the bedroom, Sushmita would move on to the study,

where Rachita spent most of her time during the day. He would dust the

bookshelves, polish the desk, and vacuum the plush carpet, making sure

that everything was in its place. The sitting area with its comfortable

chairs and low tables was also given special attention, as was the

kitchen, where the servants prepared meals for the family.

 

Finally, Sushmita would move on to the guest rooms, making sure that

they were equally as immaculate as the rest of the house. He would

replace the fresh flowers in the vases, fluff up the pillows, and

straighten the sheets on each bed. Even the servants' quarters, where he

slept, were spotless, with his own set of clothes neatly folded in the

closet.

 

The laundry room, a sprawling area tucked away in the basement, was

where Sushmita spent much of his time. Here, he would sort the clothes

by color and fabric, using his delicate hands to wash them with care. He

would scrub the stains out with a brush and special soap, rinsing them

thoroughly before hanging them up to dry on the line. Once they were

dry, he would press them between sheets of cloth to remove any remaining

wrinkles, folding them into neat piles and placing them back into their

proper drawers or closets.

 

His efforts didn't end there, however. He would also clean the laundry

room itself, scrubbing the floors, disinfecting the washing machines and

dryers, and giving the shelves a thorough wipe-down. The pantry, too,

was a source of pride for him. He would check expiration dates, organize

cans and jars, and dust off any cobwebs that might have formed.

 

The backyard was another area that required his attention. He would mow

the lawn, trim the hedges, and tend to the garden, making sure that

everything was in its place. The flowers were his specialty; he would

spend hours deadheading spent blooms and removing any weeds that might

compete with their growth. Even the birdbath was scrubbed clean and

refilled daily, a small act of kindness for the neighborhood's feathered

friends.

 

Sushmita also took responsibility for maintaining the family's vehicles.

He would wash them, vacuum them, and clean out the interiors, making

sure that they were spotless. The garage was also a part of his domain;

he would organize tools, store seasonal items, and make sure that

everything was in its place.

 

When it came to grocery shopping, Sushmita was equally meticulous. He

would arrive at the store, carefully planning his route through the

aisles to ensure that he didn't forget anything. He would select only

the freshest produce, inspecting each item for quality before adding it

to the cart. Back at the house, he would unpack the groceries, carefully

transferring them from the bags to the appropriate storage areas.

 

The task of cleaning the vegetables and fruits was one that Sushmita

took very seriously. He would wash each item thoroughly under running

water, using a soft brush to remove any dirt or debris. Next, he would

cut away any damaged or blemished parts, making sure that only the best

portions were left. Finally, he would sort the produce into separate

containers, storing them in the refrigerator where they could stay fresh

for as long as possible.

 

Proper storage was key to keeping the food fresh, and Sushmita was well

aware of this fact. He would arrange the items in the refrigerator and

pantry according to their expiration dates, making sure that nothing

went to waste. He would also keep an eye out for any signs of spoilage,

discarding any items that showed signs of mold or decay.

 

Sissy Sushmita then goes out to pickup his mistress wife from her

office. As they return, he opens the car door, kneels down, and kisses

her feet, the floorboards beneath her feet, stained with the dust and

grime of the city streets, are instantly transformed into a makeshift

altar, a testament to her husband's devotion.

 

He carefully removes her shoes, as she sits on sofa, watching him with a

smile that speaks of affection and approval. The polished wooden

floorboards beneath her feet, stained with the dust and grime of the

city streets, are instantly transformed into a makeshift altar, a

testament to her husband's devotion. As he kneels down, Sushmita's eyes

never leave her face, his every movement a dance of reverence and love.

 

He takes a small, ornate brush from under the table, carefully dipping

it into a crystal bowl of water, and begins to clean her feet. His hands

are gentle, but firm, as he scrubs away the remnants of the day's wear

and tear. The water turns a soft pink, tinted with the color of her

blush, and he lifts it to his lips, savoring the taste of her, the

essence of his beloved. It's a private moment, a connection that only

they share, a ritual that speaks volumes about their unique bond.

 

As he finishes, he takes a small vial, uncorking it to reveal a fragrant

oil. With a delicate hand, he begins to massage her feet, working the

oil into her skin, making her feel refreshed and rejuvenated. His touch

is light, but deliberate, as if he is painting a masterpiece on her very

flesh. The scent of the oil fills the air, mingling with the fragrance

of their love, creating a heady mix that intoxicates them both.

 

Finally, he takes a soft, white cloth and dries her feet, careful not to

disturb her. He then stands up, to go make dinner.

 

The aroma of dinner wafts through the house, filling the air with the

rich scent of spices and herbs. Sushmita has prepared a feast, a

celebration of love and devotion. As his wife sits at the dining table,

her eyes closed in anticipation, he serves her plate with a flourish,

his movements a dance of reverence and pride.

 

The food is exquisite, each dish artistically arranged on the plate. He

kneels besides her, watching her as she savors each bite, her eyes never

leaving his face. The sound of cutlery clinking against the china, the

warm glow of the candles, and the soft background music all blend

together to create an intimate atmosphere.

 

After dinner, she retires to the living room, he follows her crawling.

 

She lies on the couch, one leg thrown over the armrest, inviting him to

join her. He does, positioning himself between her legs, his face close

to her intimate flesh. His nosering brushes against her, teasing her

senses as he begins to kiss and nibble his way up her thigh. She arches

her back, moaning softly, her hands running through his hair, urging him

closer.

 

He takes his time, savoring the taste of her, the scent of her skin. His

tongue delves deep, finding her most sensitive spots, teasing and

pleasuring her until she is trembling with desire. His jewelry making

tinkling sound, his earrings brushing her thighs, and his nosering

sliding against her groin. He feels her body tighten, her breath coming

faster, and he knows that she is close. With a final, teasing flick of

his tongue, she cries out in ecstasy, her body shuddering with the

release of pleasure.

 

As she catches her breath, she feels a new wave of desire wash over her.

She pushes his head back in, he knows what he needs to do. He begins to

kiss and nibble his way down her body again, his tongue dancing across

her skin, his chastity growing increasingly uncomfortable. The friction

of his metal jewelry against his skin adds a new level of sensation to

the experience, both for him and for her.

 

Their lovemaking becomes a symphony of sounds: the tinkling of his

jewelry, the soft sound of the TV, their combined breathing, and the

moans and gasps that escape their lips as they lose themselves in the

moment. He continues to focus on bringing her pleasure, knowing that her

orgasms will only fuel his own desire.

 

Finally, as Rachita cries out for the third time, her body quivering

with release, he feels himself nearing the brink. He pushes back, in a

desperate attempt to relieve the pressure building within him. His

chastity bites into his skin, but he accepts the pain as a reminder of

his devotion to her.

 

Rachita gets up to go sleep for the day, allowing Sushmita to follow her

and tuck her in. She lies down on the bed, her eyes heavy with

exhaustion. Sushmita's hands move gently, massaging her feet and ankles

with the oil. The touch is soothing, sending warmth through Rachita's

body as she lets out a contented sigh. Sushmita continues to massage her

shoulders and neck, easing the tension from Rachita's muscles. Her

breath becomes shallow, her chest rising and falling with each breath.

She feels so desired, and like a queen.

 

Slowly, Sushmita moves up to Rachita's head, gently cradling it in her

hands. Her fingers work their way through Rachita's hair, soothing and

massaging her scalp. The sensation is heavenly, sending waves of

relaxation through her body. Rachita closes her eyes, drifting off to

sleep. As she dozes, she feels Sushmita's lips brush against her feet,

asking for a silent blessing.

 

But Sushmita isn't done for the day, he still has to clean the kitchen

and wash the dishes. As he starts his routine, he can't help but feel a

pang of hunger in his stomach. It's been almost 24 hours since his last

meal and his energy is starting to wane. He reminds himself that he only

has one meal for the day and he can soon have it, once his chores are

done. He carefully washes the dinner plates and bowls, making sure not

to make too much noise. He is careful with the utensils, to not break

them, as it will earn him punishment.

 

After the dishes are clean, he moves on to the countertops. He wipes

down the granite surfaces and meticulously cleans the sink. The scent of

lemon cleaner and dish soap fills the air, reminding him of his duties

as a sissy maid.

Finally, he finishes cleaning the kitchen and returns to the dining

room. He kneels down beside the table, to eat the cold leftover of

Rachita.

 

Sushmita's meal consists of a small portion of steamed rice and a curry

made from whatever vegetables were left over from dinner. He eats slowly

and methodically, savoring every bite. He knows that this is his only

meal for the day, and he must make it last. As he eats, he feels a

strange mix of emotions: the satisfaction of filling his empty stomach,

the exhaustion from a long day of work, and the constant ache of his

chastity device.

 

Finishing his meal, he stands up and walks back to his servant's

quarters. The weight of the day begins to lift from his shoulders as he

changes into his skimpy nightgown, and crawls into bed, pulling the thin

blanket up to his chin. He lies there, staring at the ceiling, listening

to the sounds outside slowly settling down for the night.

 

He tries to sleep, but his mind is too active, too full of thoughts. He

thinks about his life before this, when he was free to live however he

chose. He wonders if Rachita will ever allow him to return to his old

life, or if he's condemned to serve her for the rest of his days. He

wonders about the other men in the house, and what their lives must be

like. But his body is too tired, and his daily schedule too hectic, as

tiredness drifts him off to sleep.