Phone conversations

We spent last weekend mostly at home. It was nice not to have to be on the go the whole time.

Sunday, my mother came over, joined us for church, and enjoyed lunch with us. I, of course, cooked everything while Mom and Linda sat out on the deck enjoying one of the last nice warm fall days of the year. Mom walked past the kitchen while I was cooking and asked “why don’t you have one of your nice aprons on?” So I reached into the drawer and pulled out a yellow pinafore style apron that has lace trim. I don’t know why I selected such a feminine one, but somehow knew it was the right one for that day. Mom smiled as she passed by the kitchen again on her way back to the deck. I knew she told Linda about it as she joined her on the deck. I could faintly hear laughter and whispered conversation going on.

The rest of the meal went without any incident. I removed my apron after serving the food before sitting down and put it back on as I cleared the table and did the dishes. I guess I knew that it was expected of me in my role as housewife and sissy maid. I don’t even think I blushed at being seen in it by Mom. It was just the way things are now.

Saturday night, Linda and I enjoyed a quiet evening in front of the TV. She asked me to get my nail care kit and change her nail polish color. As we sat there, her on the couch and me on the floor at her feet, I decided to ask her the question that had been nagging at me all week.

“Did you talk to Darryl while you were traveling?”

She smiled and answered “yes, we talked a couple of times. Does that bother you?”

“No, not really. I guess I was expecting that you would. Did you call him or did he call you? And what did you talk about?”

Linda got this devilish grin on her face then. “Well, I called him Tuesday night after I talked to you. I was bored sitting in my hotel room. Then Wednesday night he called me around ten. I guess we talked about an hour each time, just about general things… the election, relating travel horror stories of crapping hotel rooms and rubbery room service meals. We talked about you some, about what a nice sissy you have become. And we talked about some personal things that you don’t need to know about.”

“Oh,” is all I could manage to muster. I grew kind of silent then, trying to concentrate on polishing her finger nails. “What did he say about me?”

“He commented on how much you have changed from the guy he used to work with who was all business and a take-care worker. He said that you have really turned into a crossdressing sissy who stays home and cleans house and goes to coffee with the other girls. He said that he remembered when he first met me when you brought me to a dinner party a few years ago, how I was so quiet and you did most of the talking, how that has pretty much reversed itself now.” Linda paused to complement me on the nice job I had done on her nails as I put the tools and polish back into the case.

“And he asked me if I had spanked you yet.”

Now I did blush deeply. “What did you say?”

“I told him that I spanked you last week. He asked how you had responded to it and I told him that you accepted it, got very quiet as I spanked you, and that you got turned on by it… especially when I reminded you that Darryl was going to spank you soon.”

“You told him that?” I cried. “Why?”

“Because you did. And Darryl just laughed at it. He said he was glad that you enjoyed your spanking and that I should continue to do it to prepare your bottom for him. He said that he was not going to go easy on you.”

I sat there at her feet, totally mortified. How had it come to this? My wife and my friend were casually talking about spanking me like it was the most natural thing to do. I can’t believe it. How did I ever let this happen? And where would it ever end?

“You won’t have to anticipate it much longer. Darryl will be visiting us very soon. But here is something else for you to be thinking about. Next weekend we are going to a Halloween party at Anna’s and Ron house. And I want you to have a very sexy, yet sissy, costume. And I have just the idea what it should be.”

Oh, boy.