It was our honeymoon. We had recently gotten married the Indian traditional way. After the exchange of biodata through intermediaries, my-future-husbands' family had agreed to meet us.

Well, to call him my husband stretches the imagination. Maybe, my would-be-partner-slash-bitch is a more apt description.

I was overwhelmed with sensations all over my body.

There was a pull on my scalp where my wife's hands were pulling my braids. My lips felt buttery and smooth and velvety from the lipstick. I could feel my wife's soft lips on mine, her tongue in my mouth, kissing me deeply, smearing my lipstick.

Most of all, my body was contracting pleasantly, an after effect of the waves of pleasure that had washed all over me, centered in my groin.

I had leaked - that's right, leaked cum, which was pooled beneath us, on the floor.

"Wow, honey", she smirked at me, "You really are a woman"

The next morning, I woke up earlier than my wife. I had freshened up, put my hair in a messy high ponytail and then made us a pot of coffee. I sat on the couch, sipping from a cup. Waiting.

She eventually woke up and sauntered over to where I was sitting, "Last night was something magical. I didn't know we could do that"

"Mm-mmm, yes, it was great", I said, giving her a side ways glance. She was in her night wear, with bed head, hair tousled this way and that. She gave a yawn.

I was woken the next day, by the most excruciating erection I ever had. Or tried to have. I was still locked in the damn cage.

I looked around the room for the key. I searched the flat, but I couldn't find the key.

Finally, I went to wake my wife, to find her woken up, due to all the noise I may or may not have made. She smiled and it looked like she knew exactly what was going on with me.

She came to me and gave me a slow kiss, which made me curl my toes, "Frustrated much?"

"How does it feel to be a woman?"

It was a beautiful morning and we were sitting in the balcony, taking in the view with a cup of coffee.

She had been unusually quite. She's not a chatterbox, but she usually has something to say. If nothing else, she will drop a teasing remark or two.

So to bring her out of the flunk, I asked her, "How does it feel to be a woman?"

She seemed to register that I was talking and looked at me, "Hmmm, what was that?"

"Honey, how does it feel to be a woman? Or rather what's the difference between me and you?"

Next day was our weekly off.

After breakfast, we were getting ready to go shopping for weekly groceries.

Just as we got into the mall, she said, "Maybe you should have your ears pierced here at the shop, since we are here anyways"

I replied, "What's on your mind?"

"Like I said, I wouldn't mind if you wore earrings and had long hair. Come on, let's get it done already"

She grabbed me by my arm and led me to the piercing shop in the mall. The artist approached my wife, thinking she was the one who wanted the piercing.

"What does being transgender mean for you?". That was how we began our way through all of this.

I responded, "It means that I have a feminine side to me which feels more authentic than the male side I present to the world. It means there is a constant expectation from myself to express my feminity".

The next morning, I woke to find the bedroom door still locked from the inside. My wife usually woke up around the same time and we did the chores around the house. But not today, after the revelation last night.