From Husband to Castrated Sissy

I don't miss the sex so much as I miss the intimacy I used to share with my beautiful wife. Nowadays I'll often do her hair or nails, usually at the salon where I now work part time, but the closest I come to real physical intimacy is when I'm occasionally asked to give her a totally platonic massage. I took a short course in therapeutic massage since Carlos enjoys a relaxing massage at the end of the day.

Carlos moved into the house shortly after I was castrated. Needless to say, he shares Kelli's bed. I've made up a small room in what used to be a storage area under the stairs. There are no windows but I've decorated it bright and cozy.

Along with the massage course, I also took enough cosmetology courses to do some hairstyling at the salon. Between my part-time work at the salon and my full-time job as a homemaker for Kelli and Carlos, I'm kept pretty much on my painted toes.

Yes, I keep my toes polished, as well as my fingers. My body is always waxed smooth and while I can't quite be mistaken for a girl, my personal appearance makes it quite obvious that I've been feminized. With each change, Kelli assured me that Carlos would lose a little more of the hostility he still had for me even as a former male. And I was happy to discover that my wife was right. As I started adopting more and more feminine traits, Carlos stopped seeing me even as a former male, and more like the subordinate femme sissy that I've become. The latest change—a pair of 36-inch breast implants—were the most successful.

Now Carlos no longer even refers to me as "he" and "him." It's strictly "she," "her," or what has become my girl name, "Kimmie." Sometimes, when Kelli is having her period or just isn't feeling well or not into it, Carlos will have me kneel down and blow him. I've gotten to be pretty good at it and I have to admit it does give me a nice sexy feeling to have him shoot his huge load into my mouth and to swallow the same hot cum that he shoots into my wife's cunt.