After a quick rinsing cuddle, Jim gently toweled me dry like I was a little boy. Rather than trying to figure out where this relationship was going, I decided to just go with the flow.
Jim announced he had finished drying me off by saying, “Okay, you’re done. Now go make me some breakfast, sweet cheeks!” Smack! I yelped from the unexpected hard slap on my vulnerable naked butt. I rubbed my reddening cheek as I headed for the bedroom while Jim dried off. Sonofabitch. Did he really expect me to make him breakfast? I pulled a pair of pink nylon panties out of my dresser and slipped them on. I noticed Jim’s tee shirt and sweatshirt hanging on the chair where I had blindly tossed them last night. I grabbed his tee shirt with the name of his construction company “J. R. Construction” over the left breast and the slogan “Jim does it Right” scrawled across the back. I sure couldn’t argue with that. I smiled and gave it a quick whiff, luxuriating in Jim’s masculine scent. It was so intoxicating that I couldn’t resist slipping it on and checking it out in the mirror. It was baggy on me and the hem came down to my crotch, but left the bottom of my pantied ass exposed in the back. I padded out to the kitchen to get breakfast started.
I got the coffee brewing and I reached into the fridge to grab some eggs and bacon, just as Jim came out of the bedroom in his jeans and sweatshirt. “Are bacon and eggs oka – Jim!” I protested when he pinched my pantied ass – hard!
“Sorry, Boo-boo,” he chuckled as he patted my sore buttcheek. “Your ass just looked so pinchable in those pink panties. They match your toes perfectly.” I looked down at my toes. Shit. I had removed the nail polish from my fingers but was now so used to my toes being painted that I completely forgot about them. I felt myself blushing.
“T-Thanks. Umm…I grabbed your tee shirt. I hope that’s okay,” I stammered. Even though I was wearing pink nylon panties, I was so embarrassed to be caught by this burly man with my toes painted sissy pink.
“Don’t worry about the shirt, Boo. All my girls wore my shirts as nighties. I’m going to get some clean clothes out of the truck. Be right back. Oh, you have a spare key?”
“Sure,” I was so flustered that without a thought I grabbed my spare key from the top shelf of my key rack and handed it to Jim.
“Be right back.”
As soon as Jim left it hit me that I had just handed an almost total stranger the key to my apartment. I had been so embarrassed to be caught with pink toenails, that I wasn’t thinking straight. On top of that Jim mentioned that all his “girls” had worn his shirts as “nighties”. Was I Jim’s “girl” now? I was barefoot in the kitchen making him breakfast wearing just his shirt and my panties. OMG. I certainly was acting like I WAS Jim’s girl…
There wasn’t time to worry about it now. Jim would be back soon, and I wanted to make his first meal a good one. I busied myself making toast along with Jim’s bacon and eggs, setting the table, pouring out some OJ, etc. like a good little housewife. Jim came in with a couple of good-sized pieces of luggage. I swallowed hard as the hard reality of him moving in truly hit me for the first time. “Smells good, Boo-boo. Let me slip into some clean clothes and I’ll be right back. Here’s your paper,” Jim dropped the paper on the counter and hauled his life into my bedroom. My head was awhirl with how quickly my life had unalterably changed this weekend. I was no longer under the Johnson’s thumb, but now I was Jim’s girl – whatever that meant…24/7.
I was putting breakfast on the table just as Jim came in barefoot, but dressed in a gray tee shirt that accentuated his physique and black sweatpants. He grabbed some coffee, sat down at the table and dove into breakfast. I grabbed some coffee and joined him.
“Tastes great, babe. So do you prefer Chris or Chrissy?”
I gulped. I hated being called Chrissy because it was so emasculating, but I felt so submissive around Jim that I couldn’t bring myself to object. “Whichever you prefer…”
“Okay. So are you gender-fluid or whatever they call it nowadays?”
Christ. Jim was asking me questions that I didn’t have answers for. His blue eyes were burning into me with an intensity that forced me to reply. “I guess I’m still trying to figure it out myself. Tyler made me wear panties for the first time and I guess I got used to wearing them. I like how they make me feel kinda sexy…”
“They do make you look kinda sexy,” Jim teased, squeezing my bare thigh. The contact made my cock stiffen in my panties. “You don’t have to be coy, Chrissy. You can be as girly as you want around me.”
“T-Thanks. I-I feel girly when I’m around you,” I blurted out. What the fuck was I saying?
“I’m glad you feel comfortable to be yourself around me, Chrissy. I like your hair. You should let it grow out. I like girly boys with long hair.”
“Umm… okay, Bear.” Omg. What was I agreeing too? Was Jim going to feminize me like a prison bitch? Why was my cock hard in my panties at the thought?
“That’s my girl.” Another squeeze of my bare thigh, sending yet another thrill through my core. I wasn’t being feminized by force, which Jim could easily do to me. Instead, my masculinity was being slowly killed by Jim with kindness and understanding. It was like I was living out that sissy nightmare I’d had where I was slowly sliding inexorably down a silken chute like I was sliding down the inside of a giant stocking with no way of stopping myself until I hit bottom. Only now Jim was standing on the rim of the silken abyss and cheering on my descent into sissyhood.
Fortunately, Jim turned the conversation to business. We went through the monthly expenses and figured out how much he should kick in a month towards rent, utilities and some other things. Imagine my surprise when he reached into his pocket and started counting out hundred-dollar bills. “Whoa, whoa! That’s too much. We’re almost halfway through the month,” I objected.
Jim was non-plussed, “I doubt your landlord or the electric company is that understanding.” He shoved the cash in my hand smiling. “Think of it as a bonus for being so sweet. Go and buy yourself something pretty.” Jim started clearing the dishes as I sat there in stunned silence with a fistful of money, feeling like a whore. While he was cheerily rinsing the breakfast dishes and loading the dishwasher, I was stewing. How DARE he give me a wad of cash and tell me to buy myself something pretty like I was some dumb bimbo with blond highlights in her hair! Although…
I could use some more panties…and now that the Johnsons were out of the picture, I would need some sissy supplies of my own…and if Jim wanted me to be more girly, I would need some outfits…and accessories, too.
By the time Jim had finished tidying up the kitchen I was on my laptop shopping like it was Christmas Eve. Jim grabbed another cup of coffee, sat down next to me and read the paper while I was shopping. Hmm…Jim might like a sissy ankle bracelet on me, so I typed in “sissy” in the search bar. It was like a whole new world opened up for me. “Oh my God!” I blurted out.