Chapter 3 -Flushed- November 4th 2010

It was well past midnight and Whit was still up at his computer. The dark monitor in front of him split between two windows, one filled with text and the other scrolling through anime style pictures of sissies, elaborately dressed in over the top feminine costumes.

Goodgirl_Sophie
Did you put the panties on like I told you too

Whit swallowed, his fingers clicked the keyboard as he bent forward in the dark.

Secret_Sissy
No, my wife’s asleep. I can’t.

Goodgirl_Sophie
Girl, you’ve got to learn to plan ahead, but whatever.
Be a good girl, tell me how you look.

Whit closed his eyes. He told himself he was going to stop doing this, why was he still doing this? He typed:

Secret_Sissy
I really need to go to bed.

Goodgirl_Sophie
No you don’t, you’re doing exactly what you need to do.
Come on, describe yourself for Daddy.

Whit’s breath caught, his mouth felt dry. He wiped his palms on his legs. He’d done this so many times, yet every time it was hard. Like he had to twist himself to get the words out.

Secret_Sissy
I’m about 5’10” long black hair tied back in a loose ponytail. I’m shy and smile but look down. I’m soft.

Goodgirl_Sophie
Goodgirl, don’t be shy, tell Daddy what you’re wearing.

Whit bent even more forward over the keyboard, he felt his heart beating faster and words flowed out of him.

Secert_Sissy
I’m wearing a satin dress, pink and short, showing off my legs. It’s very girly with lace and ruffles. I have white lace stockings and garter. I have a big pink bow…

Whit’s description was cut off when he heard steps, the door to the computer room was thrust open. Lucy was standing there in her nightgown.

Whit quickly closed the browser, a scenario that had played out many times. But this was different, there was no anger in Lucy’s voice, she was crying.

“Darren, something is wrong, we’ve got to go to the hospital,” He could see blood running down her leg.

Whit couldn’t really remember what happened over the next 4 hours. It was a waiting room, followed by an exam room, nurses taking Lucy and bringing her back. A blur of clipboards, questions, and instructions.

Then crying, so much crying, the only thing that remained vivid in Darren’s mind was Lucy trembling in his arms choking out the same words over and over again:

“They flushed it down the toilet.”
Whit held her, he didn’t cry, didn’t speak, and worst of all inside he felt a hollow space where grief was supposed to be. He wasn't going to be a father after all.