That chat with my wife about "toning it down" was yesterday.  She was concerned that the combination of weed and sissification hypnosis wasn't sending me a bit over the edge; cavorting around the edges of the infamous Rabbit Hole.  We agreed that the weed was certainly a catalyst, if not risky for other reasons, and that I would cut way back.  Out of respect for my wife, I concurred.

There was also the polite request that I not dress up like a sissy slut every time we have sex.  I agreed that I would temper those urges too, at least where our sex life was concerned.  (I don't give ground so easily where dressing in private is concerned.  It took me many painful years to come this far, but that's another story.)

No sweat.  

So, we're just passing 24 hours of promised "good behaviour" on my part.  Where did I go wrong?  Maybe I should tell the story first..

I felt flushed with resolve yesterday.  It was all so normal.  We had a very sensible, mature, suburban, heterosexual trip to the mall.  We stopped for coffee.  After a lovely afternoon in male clothes, I came home and immediately ate a hash brownie.  Oops.  Resolve apparently doesn't go very far with me.  True confession, and one that I'd find disgraceful if I weren't already such a mind-fucked sissy hypno slave, is that I've learned to get stoned and to pass as straight in front of my wife.   About an hour later we were sitting on the back deck, reading, when I was suddenly high as fuck.  Trying so hard to pass as a normal male human was such an effort that I got really turned on; beset as I was by the screaming need to become a sissy fuck toy.

Within the hour, perhaps sensing my need, my wife was agreeable to getting stoned together.  Not knowing that I was already half baked, my wife and me passed a joint, then a bit more.  Please understand that what comes next qualifies me as the biggest genius in the history of Sissydom.  Read on...

I took my now stoned wife upstairs.  I licked and teased her until she was starting to smoulder, then I adroitly ruined the moment.  Repeatedly, I got her close to orgasm, only to seemingly fumble the ball on the goal line.  At one point I told her, "either you cum the easy way, or I'll have to show you the hard way."  I kept her so close.  

"The hard way it is."  Finally I tossed her on the bed, and I slowly donned my best sissy slut outfit:  garters and stockings, panties, high heels, corset.   Over that I put on my wife's strap on cock; the one she only used on me once, and with mild but evident disgust.  I had fished it out of the sex cupboard, and as her eyes widened I strapped the pink rubber monster over my flaccid cock.

You see, one of the downsides of weed is that it's a vasodilator.  It lowers the blood pressure, and consequently keeps me from getting hard for hours.   She has been patient, but my wife is never enthusiastic about my inability to fuck when high.  This time would be different.  My new, pink cock was hard as a rock, and would stay that way, well, forever.  

The sex that ensued was great.  She howled and bucked and spasmed like never before.  "My" plastic cock didn't provide any sensation for me, but I was nevertheless in sissy heaven:  dressed, humiliated, effectively cuckholded by Mr. Pink, and happily stoned.  Then, as my poor spaced out wife was building again toward orgasm, I slowed the pounding, and made her look deeply into my eyes.  She was a lovely, gasping picture of lust as I ventured aloud that she seemed to love being fucked by huge monster cocks.  She nodded meekly.  Then I said very melodically that she seemed to really enjoy getting fucked extra hard because she was a stoned, submissive fuck toy.  Her gasps betrayed enthusiastic agreement.  Her horny stoned mind seemed to momentarily grasp that I was performing a hypnotic induction, but she quickly grew quiescent and entranced.  After a period deepening, she was blissfully hypnotized.  Fucking her more vigorously again, I explained that a horny, hypnotized, stoned submissive fuck doll such as her would become quickly addicted to such deep fucking.  She was grunting and rolling her head.  But, I explained, she could only get fucked by Mr. Pink if I were fully dressed as a sissy slut.  I implanted the idea in her mind that she needed hard fucking from her strap on sissy husband; literally fucking the idea into her empty, suggestible mind.  She was in bliss.  

In my moral defence, I told her exactly what was going to happen, both to implant the suggestion, and to demonstrate her delicious helplessness.  I told her that if she let herself cum she would become instantly and powerfully addicted to my strap on fucking.  I told her, as I fucked her senseless, that it was her decision; if she came it meant she needed and craved more hard plastic fucking by her crossdressed slut husband.  She was so close...

"Do you need your sissy faggot husband to fuck you senseless with a huge hard cock?"

"YES!  YES!  YES...."

That was how we ended Day #1 of my "good behaviour."   How am I doing so far?