A Shapely Sissy

Last year, Diane inserted a "weight clause" into our original slave contract.  Incidentally, since she never liked that name we are now going to be calling it the "Sissy Contract."  I'm not a big person and have always stayed in decent shape, but it was difficult to get down to the weight she assigned to me.  I'm 5'10" and with a medium frame.  Diane used one of these ideal body weight charts for men to determine the weight I should be assigned.  We used to make fun of those things, thinking that anyone who actually weighed that little would look anorexic!  I don't make fun of it anymore. 

There was even some discussion of whether or not we should use the female weight chart as a guide, or assigning me a weight in the "small frame" category for men.  Instead, the final weight range I was assigned was from 150 to 155 lbs. maximum.  From a health perspective, I can't argue with the results it's produced.  I feel better and all of my medical indicators are in perfect ranges. 

The changes haven't been just physical though.  The weight loss and constant attention to weight has made me feel more feminine.  I weigh myself everyday and find myself watching what I eat constantly.  When we're out with friends, there have been times where I've had to refuse deserts or other types of foods because I know it would put me over my assigned weight.  Most of the time, I have to put up with some teasing, listening to comments like "You're already so skinny" or, "You're worse than a broad."    On several occasions, one female friend of ours has said "You'll have to share your secrets with me, I don't know how you have so much willpower."  Think I should tell her about the sissy contract?

This post was prompted by a little incident that happened last night.  Before dinner, Diane asked me what I weighed yesterday morning, adding that I felt a little "rubenesque" as she put her arms around my waist and kissed my neck as I got things ready.  I told her I was at 152.  I was marched to the scale, stripped down to just my panties and bra and told to step on the scale.  It read 153.  "Maybe you're just a little bloated." Diane said.  "Make sure you wear your Spanx this weekend."

We'll be going to dinner at some friends tonight.  Underneath my ugly male clothing, I'll be wearing the modern-day version of the old fashioned girdle.  Like those women of yesteryear, I'll be looking forward to getting home so that I can get out of my girdle.  I'm fine with it though. Diane could insist i wear a corset and I do want to be a shapely sissy for her.