Work Text:
I had been prepared for an absolutely miserable visit with my family. Pretending to be Stasya, pretending Maria was just a servant I'd hired instead of my lover—I'd expected it all to feel miserably wrong, and I'd mostly been right.
But I was surprised how much Maria helped.
Her idea to think of myself as her Master in the kink sense and think of our interactions during the visit as a roleplay scene rather than a reflection of how we truly measured each other's worth was genius. But what really had me floored was the way she'd acted as soon as we were alone, stripping me of my girl clothes and later putting new ones on, all the while talking to me like I was a man who had a thing for crossdressing.
I knew I had to talk to her about that.
We were driving back home when I brought it up. “What was that with the talk about me being a sissy boy?”
“Oh, sorry, did I bother you?” Maria asked. “I got flustered. And also kind of switched, even though we agreed you'd be Master during this visit.”
“No, not at all.” I paused, sorting through my thoughts. “Kind of the opposite, actually?”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I don't know, the mental image of myself as a crossdressing man—it's kind of hot?” I was glad that I was driving. It gave me a good excuse to avoid eye contact. “It's weird—I hate when I'm forced into girl clothes, but when you do it, I like it.”
“Is it because you know I'll always see you as a man, no matter how you dress?” She asked.
I nodded. “That's a big part of it, for sure.” But not all of it. My instincts told me there was something I still couldn't articulate or understand. Luckily, I didn't need to. “Do you want to do a scene like that? Like, maybe you're my wife and you catch me stealing your panties, so you make me dress up as a punishment?”
And that's how I ended up, the day after we got back, willingly putting on one of Maria's frilly panties. It was too big on me, and felt awkward, but that just made the scene more complete.
Maria barged in, just as we'd planned. “What the hell are you doing, John?”
“Um.” I covered my crotch, face going red. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” She asked. “Stealing my panties, more like!” She swatted me on the bum, and I hastily grabbed at the panties to keep them from falling. I could feel my dick tingling, my front hole getting wet.
“Well, you know what panty-thieves get, don't you?” She asked. “They get punished. And I've got something special in mind.”
She pulled out one of the dresses I'd worn for my family visit. “Oh, please, no! Don't make me wear that! I'm a man!” I exclaimed.
“Not much of a man, though, are you?” She accused. “Or else why would you be wearing your wife's panties?”
I looked down at my feet, shamefaced and reveling in it.
“So, here's your punishment. I'm going to dress you up in this, and then I'm going to beat your ass in those panties until you're good and sorry.” Maria declared.
“Yes, Miss.” I said meekly.
After she'd beaten me good, she stripped me naked and then gave me permission to dress in my regular clothes as a transition to aftercare. “So, John. How was that?”
“It was great.” I said, startled when I started crying.
Maria hugged me and wiped my tears. “Good tears, honey?”
“Good tears.” I agreed. “I think I have some pent up feelings about this, and this play is letting them out?”
“That makes sense.” Maria said softly. “You let it all out, it's OK. I'm here.”