Spring seems to have arrived in London and that means shorter skirts are for husbands. My sissy husband.

Because of the nice weather, I tasked my sissy with the job of to tidying the garden ready for the summer. There’s quite a lot to do after the long winter. Sunday morning he was of course dressed in a nice skirt and jumper. Both were pretty shades of pink.

Being in full sight of the neighbours when in the garden, he had unfortunatley to get changed into male working clothes. Whilst I like him dressed in pretty feminine clothes as much as possible, it’s not always possible. I realise we still have to conform to society’s rules otherwise things can get uncomfortable.

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So my sissy husband changed into male top clothes alothough she still wore a pretty pair of knickers and a bra. I believe a bra is very important for a sissy so she has no illusions that he is really a proper man. She’s a sissy wearing some male clothes temporarily.

She worked quite har, the sweetie, and once it started to become dark, it was time to clear up and come inside.

I’ ha’d been reading the Sunday newspaper occassionally watching her toil outside. When I saw my sissy husband had come in, I called out that I’d like a cup of tea.

Five minutes later, he came into the living room in his bare feet with tea for me. I was horrified.

“WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING YOU STUPID GIRL,” I screamed.

SIssy looked confused and more than a little worried, not least because it was possible the neighbours heard me. She didn’t realise what she’d done wrong.

She’d brought me a cup of tea very quickly and served it. She’d curtseyed. She couldn’t work out what she’d done wrong.

I continued to stare at sissy. Something was very wrong, she knew. Finally, she asked what the problem was.

“You’ve come into the house and made me tea in those work trousers. Remove all those male clothes this minute, you’re a sissy girl not a man”. I fumed. “I do not permit male clothes in this house.” What was she thinking?

Sissy stripped off with his head bowed. He was down to his bra and knickers.

“You must NEVER wear male clothes in the house. Bend over, remove your trousers and pull down your knickers, sissy,” I ordered.

He let his trousers and knickers drop to his ankles. I told him to bend over. I stood and removed my thick brown belt from around my waist. I slapped him 15 times until there were red marks over his bottom cheeks.

I finihed and looked at him again “Pull up your knickers, get upstairs and put a skirt on this minute. How dare you think you can wear trousers in this house, sissy.”

His behind looked sore as he left the room and sloped upstairs. He returned downstairs in a short pink miniskirt and pink top. I made him sit at my feet on the floor and I told him to look at me and repeat 50 times “I am a sissy girl. I must only wear skirts and dresses in the house.”

And this is what he did.