I sat down at my desk and powered up my computer. Once everything was up and going, I signed into my OnlyFans site. I was shocked by the numbers displayed on the dashboard landing site. My queued updates had been going out regularly, making the site an automated instrument of my humiliation and exposure. It was clearly resonating with some community, as I was now at a rather dizzying subscriber count of nearly a thousand. That meant over $11,000 of income per month. It all seemed unreal. I had no idea what I was going to say once the money was transferred into my account. 

There were mountains of emails to go through, and so many comments on the photos posted so far. The more degraded and humiliated I looked, the more these fans seemed to enjoy it. 

There were more messages from the one submissive I’d noticed before calling himself KrisKaged. He was obviously paying special attention to any photo that included a local landmark, like the adult toy store. It was scary and strange to imagine that he could have been in the store today while I was there with Cheryl. At that moment I’d worried only about Ashley and what she knew and might give away, but these strangers and fans might be even less discreet. 

I made note of his emails and a couple others that looked interesting, but then I got down to the work that Liam had assigned to me. 

I didn’t want to expose too much about Cheryl, or the dynamics of our life and marriage that had brought us to our current predicament, but some details were inescapable. Having to recount it all, and to relive it so quickly, made me get warm and humiliated all over again. I was recounting to hundreds of strangers in intimate detail how my own submission had led me to pretending to be an eager participant in my own cuckolding. My wife was sleeping with my Master’s wife and, according to his own stated plans, that was just the beginning. I had been reduced to an impotent servant, servicing her with sex toys when permitted. 

Looking at the words on the screen, it seemed so embarrassing and so emasculating. I knew that I had caused it all to happen with my own choices. Those choices had led to my discovery but, as Liam had so clearly pointed out to me, I still wanted it. Even sitting there, I thought of his cock and his control over me with a warm tingle. 

I proof-read my little essay once more and then posted it to the blog. I felt a rush of submissive arousal just clicking the confirmation button, imagining the eyes of these readers taking it in. 

My glass was empty so I rose up and went to the kitchen to pour another scotch. The house was silent. Checking my watch and seeing the time, it was more clear to me that Cheryl would be out for the night. I tip-toed upstairs to check on her. She was curled up on the bed looking so sweet and beautiful and exposed. As quietly as I could I fetched a blanket to lay over her then slipped away and back downstairs.

Something made me walk right past the kitchen, past my office and down into the basement. I opened up my room and stepped inside. I felt a strange peace as I stripped out of my clothes and stood for just a moment looking at myself naked before reaching for lingerie. I pulled a garter around my hips and rolled stockings up my legs to clip to the dangling belts. I pulled a pair of sheer black panties on next, briefly running my fingers through the trimming of ruffled lace. There was a matching bra as well and so I put it on as well. 

Once again, I looked at myself in the full length mirror. I wasn’t a man. I wasn’t a woman either. My cock, such as it was, made a small bulge in my panties. I could see the changes in my body – the rounder, fuller hips – looking even more noticeable when framed by the lingerie. I looked just a bit silly and perhaps just a bit sexy to the right set of eyes. I guessed that “sissy” was the only word to describe me. 

I left my “man” clothes folded and set aside and made my way back upstairs. The house was still and quiet. I got my drink and returned to my office. My chair felt strange against the exposed bare flesh of my legs, between panties and stockings. I settled in and started going through the comments and messages in more detail. 

I started with the messages from KrisKaged. It excited me to know that he was local to me, and that he’d walked in some of the same places I had. It felt both like a tease and a confession to share with him that the toys I’d referenced in this public blog post about my service to my wife were purchased at the store he’d been in himself. I could feel myself squirming in my chair as I sent the messages and looked for any reply. 

Looking through the message, I came across another man who was also in the same city. Knowing these others who seemed to either be in similar predicaments as me or have similar kinks and interests were close by was thrilling. My experience with Liam and being drawn into his world had made it clear that meeting and interacting with people like this was always a real possibility. 

Even knowing the power that all this had over me, I was still kind of surprised reading the open and almost confessional tone of one of the messages. He didn’t just describe his situation and desires in vague terms, he laid it all out in detail, with full names. I had no way at that time to know if the full names were real, but his use of them did not seem accidental. He called himself Michael Holmes and he shared an apartment with another man named Colin Roarke. Neither Colin or Michael’s girlfriend, identified as Sarah Cook, had any idea that he spent hours and hours online fantasising as his sissy alter-ego, Mallory, or how he ached to be sexually subservient to his unknowing roommate. 

I wondered what my own life would have been like if I had known of my deep desires as early as he had. At the same time, I could feel the confusion he must be feeling. Anyone else might wonder why he was still making the effort with his girlfriend, but I knew all too well how powerful his desire to feel normal must be. There was shame to overcome in admitting the truth of what aroused him. 

Perhaps because I was dressed as I was, I chose a decidedly teasing and encouraging tone in my response. 

“Mallory, thanks so much for subscribing to my site. I hope that you get to feel how sexy it is to submit to a Master someday soon. I hope you get to feel the sensations you dream of with your handsome roommate. I hope you spend as much time as you can, feeling sexy lingerie on your body, hidden from both Sarah and Colin, until the time comes for your secrets to be revealed.”

As I sent my response, I imagined that Liam might be monitoring my use of the site. With the names and information already provided, there was more than enough leverage to make some of these dreams of Michael’s come true.

As though imagining him getting in even deeper, I sent another message. 

“Why don’t you send me some photos of yourself in the sexiest sissy lingerie you own.”

With the message sent off to tease him and to encourage him to further expose himself, I carried on through the rest of the content. It was so strange and confusing to think of all these people looking at these images of me being teased and sissified and humiliated and used. It was made very clear that it was turning them on. Many came right out and told me how they had jerked off to the sight of the photos and video clips. Some wanted to be me and others wanted to fuck me. 

It all made me squirm in my seat and I realised that my hands were sliding over the edges of my panties and stockings and bra, fingertips caressing my own flesh. 

“Are you having fun, Crissy?” Liam said, startling me half to death. 

He was right there, leaning in the open doorway of my office. 

“Your wife is asleep upstairs and you are already down here getting off, and dressed up like a pretty little sissy slut to do it.”

His smile was wide across his face. 

“Yes, Master. Crissy is having fun, Master.”

“Did anyone tell you to dress this way, sissy?” 

“No Master. Crissy just felt… felt an urge to be dressed this way while looking at the site, Master.”

“You wrote about your evening and you thought about all the horny boys looking at you and gooning for your pictures, and you just had to be dressed up all pretty for them, didn’t you?”

I blushed. I didn’t even understand it, but it was clearly true.

“Yes, Master,” I answered. 

“Find one of your horny fans who is online right now. Send him a DM. Ask him if he is gooning for you right now,” Liam commanded. 

I stared back at the screen, feeling the heat rise in my body. I was able to see the list of those who were active at that moment and I clicked on the profile of one who seemed to have a somewhat creative and descriptive name. 

“NormanConquest” replied to my message almost immediately. 

“Yes, you dirty little sissy slut, I am stroking, thinking of making use of your pretty holes,” he messaged back. 

“Tell him that for just $10 you’ll fuck your ass on camera for him, until you cum in your panties.”

My eyes darted up to Liam in disbelief. 

“Master?”

“Don’t make him wait, Crissy. He might cum and lose interest.”

I swallowed and relayed the message. 

It was barely a minute before the computer chimed, alerting me to an incoming tip having been received. There was his $10 fee.

Liam moved closer and set a rather large moulded dildo on the desk in front of me, along with a tiny squeeze bottle of lubricant. 

“Get to it,” he instructed. 

He moved back and closed the office door.  

“We wouldn’t want the sound to wake up Cheryl, would we?” he asked, nearly laughing out loud. 

“No, Master, Crissy wouldn’t,” I replied meekly. 

Right at the bottom of his message was a button to click to invite the user to a private video chat. I drew in a deep breath and clicked it. There was a quick preview of the sight of me from my computer webcam as its little light came on. I was confronted with the reality of myself. I wasn’t a pretty sexy girl. I was a man in lingerie. I was a submissive sissy, obeying the command of my Master yet again. 

I confirmed with another click and the computer screen filled with the view from my camera. A few moments later, the stranger’s camera came online, pushing the image of me down into a small inset in the corner. 

I didn’t see his face as he had his camera pointed down to display only the sight of his cock in his hand, and he was stroking constantly.

“Go ahead, you pretty sissy slut. Put on that show for me,” he panted, his voice sounding firm, hungry and lusty. 

I picked up the dildo, showing it to him and I tried to make a show of drizzling the lube over it and rubbing the cold gel up and down the shaft until it glistened. I stood and pushed my chair out of the way, then pulled the back of my panties down just enough so that I could guide the tip of the dildo between my ass cheeks. 

“Norman” as I started to think of him grunted his approval. Out of the camera’s view but still watching me, Liam nodded his confirmation as well. I pushed the dildo deeper, turning away from the desk, to give the camera the best view I could. 

“That’s it, you dirty slut. Fuck that sissy pussy for me,” he moaned at me. 

I looked over my shoulder at the glow of the screen. He was stroking his cock with wild abandon and grunting along. His member looked large and impressively hard. His enthusiasm encouraged me and I was soon pistoning the rubber cock into my ass harder and faster. 

The toy felt good inside me. I was aware that my body was becoming conditioned, but that knowledge didn’t change the truth of it. I felt it sliding in and out. I felt my body tighten around it. I heard his vulgar and explicit words, egging me on. It did not take much for me to imagine that it was this stranger fucking me, rather than just watching. I felt Liam’s eyes on me, either way, observing and supervising — keeping an eye on his possession.

I felt myself getting hard, swelling inside my panties. I just kept on fucking my ass harder and faster. The toy cock was driving into me, balls deep, again and again and again. The whole situation was burning itself into my mind. My wife was upstairs. I’d made her cum, but had not been allowed to play much more than a service role in her pleasure. Now, I was dressed up as a sissy slut of my own volition and putting on a show for a total stranger, fucking a dildo on webcam, while he jerked off to the sight of me. Through it all, there was Liam, watching and smiling and taking photos. 

Norman started grunting in a deeper, louder tone. His hand was a blur, stroking and squeezing his cock. With a ragged moan, he was overcome by his orgasm. He was cumming, just from watching me. It thrilled me and aroused me and I poured that emotion into my use of the dildo. In moments, I was cumming right along with him. I moaned and gasped and shuddered, feeling my cock spasm and spurt. 

Once I was done, I turned towards the camera, the dildo still buried in my ass, and pulled down my panties to show him. There was my tiny little clit of a cock, softening already, and swimming in the milky sea of my own load.  

“Thanks, slut,” was all that I got from Norman before he signed off. 

“Not a bad show at all, my little ten-dollar whore,” Liam added. 

“Thank you, Master,” was all that I could think of to say. 

“You’re going to sleep in your guest room again tonight, sissy. I don’t want you disturbing Cheryl’s rest. You may remove your bra and stockings, but I want you to sleep in your cum-stained panties. Put some pyjamas over them, so you don’t stain the sheets. Good night, Crissy.”

“Thank you, Master. Good night, Master,” I replied as he walked away and let himself out of the house. 

In the aftermath of my orgasm — brought on entirely without touching my own cock, I realised — I felt embarrassed and exposed. My ass felt stretched and used, and I was already feeling the cum drying into a sticky mess. 

I made a trip downstairs to clean and put away the dildo and to remove the bra and stockings. I put my clothes on over my panties and then closed up and went back upstairs. I made sure that everything in the office was shut down as I started to truly feel tired and spent. 

I made my way upstairs. I didn’t dare peek into my bedroom to check on Cheryl, afraid of waking her.  In the guest room, I undressed again, finding flannel pyjama pants to slide on over my panties. I fell asleep quickly, but my sleep was full of dreams.