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My Changed Life 2 free porn video
MY CHANGED LIFE 2 by Throne
I stood there under the critical eyes of my wife and her friend. Grace
was still in her exercise clothes. Pam wore sweatpants and a cropped tee
shirt that showed off her flat mid-section, and almost no make-up. In
her own home she allowed herself to be even less feminine than usual. I
got a bad feeling. Then she put an arm around my wife and Grace turned
her face toward her so they could exchange a deep soulful kiss. My mouth
fell open. "What?" my wife wanted to know. "You thought that our
practically non-existent love life was enough to keep me happy? That I
would figure out a way to be satisfied by your tiny dick and pre-mature
finish time? And that I accepted that you refused to eat my pussy? Well,
that's not the way it works, Marty. My solution was to take Pam up on
all the offers she made to show me how one woman can please another."
"You know," Pam interjected, "the way he looks now, I don't think you
should be calling him Marty anymore."
"You're right," my wife said as she reached over to stroke Pam's abs.
For a long moment, while they thought about that, I stood there feeling
like a lab specimen being examined. Then Grace said, "How about we call
him... I mean her, Mary."
"Or maybe Maryanne."
"Yeah, that's even more girly. Maryanne it is." I bit my lips. My head
swirled. What was happening? Pam took one long stride and was in front
of me. She snatched the trailing end of the ribbon and tugged, making
the bow come undone, loosening everything, and pulling it away to leave
me naked again down there. My undersized penis and balls were on
display, along with my lack of pubic hair. She laughed raucously and
said, "Jeez, Grace, he's even tinier than you said between the legs." My
wife got closer to her and hugged her from behind, saying, "You don't
know how useless he was in bed. I'm so glad I have you now to keep me
happy, baby." Pam turned in the circle of Grace's arms and embraced her
passionately, locked lips with her, and ran her hands freely up and down
her body, rubbing her full bottom and squeezing her big boobs from the
sides. I couldn't believe my wife was having an affair with an assertive
lesbian, yet the proof was right in front of me.
"But don't worry, Maryanne," my wife explained, "we have a place for you
with us. You're going to keep both houses neat and clean, do the
shopping for us, and best of all, be our slave girl in the bedroom." I
stammered, "S... slave... g... girl?" Pam shook her head in disgust at
my incomprehension, and said, "You're going to be our male lesbian. I
told your wife it would be okay for you to be the odd girl out in a
threesome with us, but only if we totally femmed you up." She laughed
and went on, "Which those guys made a pretty good start on. But you've
got a long way to go, Maryanne." Hearing that, I broke down in sobs. Pam
said, "Typical woman." Then she and Grace enjoyed another probing kiss.
When they finally came up for air, my wife sneered at me and said, "All
right. Upstairs, girly girl. It's time to give you your new look so we
can see how much fun we can have with you in the sack." I stood there,
longing for my wife's voluptuous body, knowing that it was now Pam's to
explore and delight in, that I had lost my bride to a woman. Grace
grabbed me by the ear and towed me along after her as she headed for the
stairs.
She took me to a cramped little room with a frilly bed that took up most
of the available space. There was a small dresser, the top of it crowded
with cosmetics, hair products, bits of lingerie, and a few girlish items
like a stuffed unicorn with rainbow stripes and a teddy bear in a frilly
dress. Pam appeared in the doorway a minute later with an open can of
beer in her hand. She said, "Hey, Maryanne, how do you like your new
bedroom?" That revelation stunned me. If there had been more space I
might have collapsed. Instead, I just stood there wordlessly as my wife
began to select items from the dresser's top. She took a pair of French-
cut panties and handed them to me, telling me to put them on. I slipped
them up my legs, the corset again cutting into my flesh. I whimpered. I
didn't want to appear weak, least of all in front of Pam, but I couldn't
help myself. It was as if my male ego had sprung a leak and my pride and
self-esteem were draining away. As I stood there in the panties, my wife
made me hug myself, cock my hips, and pucker my mouth. As I held that
pose Pam said with enthusiasm, "You know, once you're done with her, I
think I'll really enjoy having her tongue deep in my pussy."
What? After all this I was going to have to... do that? Well, I
realized, of course I was. And for both of them, most likely. Along
with any other perverse acts they demanded. I dreaded to think what Pam
might come up with. She obviously relished insulting my masculinity and
making me less of a man to my wife. I should have at least stood up for
myself then, but my spirit was already too broken. What would be left of
it by the end of the night? Or after a week? Or a month? My wife took
a long, sleeveless, contoured shirt and helped me put it on, as if I was
so helpless or incompetent I couldn't do it by myself. She made sure I
didn't muss my hair. When it was pulled down over the corset it clung as
if I actually had a waist that small. The panties were tight enough to
compress my man parts. The shirt didn't cover my crotch and it appeared
that I didn't have anything more down there than a feminine mound. Grace
made me slip my feet into high-heeled slippers and had me take several
short steps. She mentioned that I would be wearing those enough that I
would be able to walk in them with ease in a short time. I was afraid
she was right.
Then she went to work on my face with make-up. There was eye-liner, eye-
shade, artificial lashes, rouge, and lots of red lipstick. She plucked
my eyebrows and darkened what remained with an eyebrow pencil, then
stepped back, in the limited space available, to assess her handiwork.
She smiled and turned me toward Pam, who said, "Sure, I could have a face
like that pressed up against my wet pussy."
"Me too," my wife said breathily. Pam tweaked my nipples through the
thin shirt. I squeaked but, as she continued, began to be aroused in
spite of myself. I shifted my feet around, unsteady on the slippers, and
licked my lips involuntarily. She said, "This one's an easy turn-on. We
can make her our bitch in no time." I hated to admit it, even to myself,
but she was almost certainly right. I was frightened to find out what
being their bitch would include. Pam took my wrist and led me out of my
new, overly girlish room, and took me to her bedroom, with Grace trailing
us. Pam's bed was huge and the room easily accommodated it. I knew she
had started her own business and was quite wealthy, but it still startled
me. I couldn't even compete with her financially.
She told me to kneel at the foot of the bed and then the two of them
began to undress each other. It was highly erotic, even though I was
watching my wife get physical with another woman. Or because of that. I
was so confused. My smooth skin tingled under the touch of the female
clothing I wore. The smell of hair spray and cosmetic intoxicated me. As
Grace's generous breasts and bottom were revealed I began to pant. Even
Pam's leaner and harder body excited me. Maybe it was just the
involuntary celibacy of the past weeks, I told myself, even though I
didn't really believe that. No, something was changing in me, rapidly,
and I didn't think whatever changes were made could be reversed,
especially not if they were maintained by more of what I was going
through right then. Soon the women were on the large bed, in each
other's arms, rubbing their vulvas together. In a thick voice my wife
said, "All right, Maryanne, it's time for you to prove yourself. Unless
you want to suffer some extremely nasty punishments. Get up here."
Scared witless, I clambered onto the foot of the bed. The view, to say
the least, was highly charged. My wife spread her legs lewdly and turned
her face to Pam to ask, "Mind if I use her first?" Pam smiled evilly and
said, "No, babe. It's going to be a long night." So Grace ordered me to
get my mouth on her pussy and start licking. It was something I had
avoided for the entire time we had been together. I revolted me but I
had no choice. The taste of her was stronger than I had expected, yet I
kept lapping. When she told me to suck her clitoris, I did that too. She
regulated my speed and intensity. She even instructed me in the right
way to probe her with my tongue. As I labored to please her, Pam gave
her a lingering kiss. That clearly defined everyone's role. My wife
kept me down there for a long while before she handed me off, like a
piece of property, to her lover. I had to use my mouth on Pam even
longer than I had on Grace. Worse, Pam rolled over and snapped at me to
kiss her ass. At first it was just her firm buttocks, but then she made
me bury my face between them and use my tongue in a way I could never
have considered before that night.
As Pam purred contentedly, Grace announced that she wanted to try that
too. "I want Maryanne to eat MY ass," she declared. So I did that,
pressing my features into the deep humid valley of her rear. I knew that
my wife would never be able to look at me after I did that, as anything
but her sissified bed slave. And when I was done I could see that Pam
delighted in my latest disgrace. She knew without a doubt that she had
won and Grace was hers. My wife said to her, "Now that she's our
backdoor muncher, Maryanne won't ever be allowed to kiss me on the mouth
again. Anyway, if she did, I'd feel like I was cheating on you, Pam. And
I'd never do that. You're the only one I love." My heart sank but I
guess I should have expected that, too. It wasn't just sex that was gone
but any semblance of romance. My balls ached from all the stimulation I
had received. My waist was still suffering from the grip of the corset.
The lovers were giddily happy. Pam mounted Grace and mashed her pussy
against my wife's, rubbing with practiced expertise, eventually leading
them to mutual orgasms. I could only kneel on the foot of the bed, watch
in frustration, and then lap them both clean of their mingled secretions.
After that night my life changed completely. Grace had me sign all our
assets into her name. She sold our home and we moved in with Pam, who
could easily support us. My wife kept her old job but I had to leave
mine. I became their housemaid. Instead of a complete uniform, I was
given only a tiny see-through apron that tied in the back with a huge
bow, and a frilly cap. Along with those I wore black shoes with square
toes and three inch block heels. It made an odd sight as I dusted,
polished, swept, and straightened up, along with cleaning two bathrooms
and one powder room. I wasn't considered capable of cooking. And I
didn't get to eat what they did. Their meals were rich and delicious.
Mine were always plain and bland. Grace said she didn't want to spoil
the taste of their bodies for me. I had to be available around the clock
to satisfy any sexual whim that came to them. They had Pam's friends
over to visit, lesbians and gay men. Though I wasn't required to have
sex with any of them, they all felt free to touch me any way they
pleased, which I found unnerving.
Part of being their bedroom slave included watching them perform oral sex
on each other, and seeing Pam use a strap-on dildo on my wife. It also
involved Grace watching Pam use that sex toy on me. While it provided
great pleasure when put into a vagina, Pam invaded me from behind, which
had the opposite effect. She also encouraged my wife to use it on me.
That was another victory for Pam. What's worse, after they did it about
a dozen times, my body began to respond and gradually I came to crave it,
much to my deep humiliation. After that, they would make me perform
fellatio on it before the stuck it in me. My own sexual relief was
ignored and I went for months at a time without an orgasm. Then I
started to have wet dreams, leaking my cream into the panties I wore to
bed under the baby doll nighties they liked to see me in. The was not
only embarrassing, but it gave me no real satisfaction and I was horny
again at once. They teased me about my lack of control. They also
teased me by rubbing up against me, toying with my nipples, blowing in my
ears, and whispering lewd suggestions that they had no intention of
carrying out. Sometimes Pam would tell me what she liked doing to my
wife and having Grace do to her. Of course I had seen it all but hearing
her joy as she described it, and learning details about how my wife's
body felt to her, was torture. Pam could do anything she pleased to
those fabulous breasts and that bubble bottom, while I could only envy
her.
So there I was. They kept me powdered and perfumed. The use of
depilatories had removed my body hair for good. I always walked, moved
and spoke like a girl who was trying too hard to be girly. My wardrobe
was entirely feminine and I learned to apply my own cosmetics. As my
hair grew out they had me put it into braids or ponytails when I wasn't
doing housework, and up in a bun under my cap when I was. Some nights we
played dress-up, with me in the role of a schoolgirl or a geisha or a
total slut. None of those appealed to me, especially not when I had to
act out the roles of innocent victim, willing participant, or perverse
enthusiast. If they noticed that a roleplaying situation was
particularly abhorrent to me, they would sometimes make me stay in
character for the entire following day. Then they had me do it when
company came. Once I begged to be allowed a brief respite from
crossdressing, so they allowed me to put on what I guess was a male disco
outfit, with tight pants, a loose open shirt, and showy jewelry, along
with fancy shoes. Then they invited several gay acquaintances over to
party with me. Again, it didn't turn into sex, but it came so close that
I have never asked for male attire again.
Finally, there are punishments. Sometimes they are physical, like
spankings, paddlings, and having my dick put into a chastity tube lined
with points, then getting me aroused over and over. Pam loves to make me
weep in front of my wife. Since that last one started, they have been
keeping me in a chastity tube, minus the points, more and more, so I
can't even get an erection. Pam takes special delight in taunting me
about that when Grace isn't there. Then there are purely psychological
punishments. Torments might be a better word. They talk to me about how
low I have sunk and the fact that I can expect to never live a male life
again. They enact petty rules, such as making me thank them for being
allowed to care for their shoes and boots. Sometimes, while I'm
cleaning, they sit in the room where I am and discuss things they might
do to me, like making me gain lots of weight so I can play new roles in
their sex scenarios. Or it might be turning me over to the gay men they
know. Often I cry myself to sleep, there in my little-girl bedroom, my
smooth pink body dressed in a filmy baby doll nightie, worrying about
those possibilities, even though they probably won't ever be made
realities. But my wife and her lover are titillated by the mental strain
they inflict.
I mentioned that having them use dildos on me began to excite me after a
while. Well, maybe the worst part of my changed life, is that all the
things they have forced me to endure are starting to appeal to me. Don't
get me wrong. I still hate every minute of it. But at the same time, I
crave it. Can you understand? Can you imagine what it's like to have
your masculinity taken away from you, to lose all your material wealth to
your wife, to see her fall in love with a woman who despises you, and
then to be made, somehow, to want all that, to need it? To feel
dependent on it? To be re-made into someone who has to have it all? But
I have to go now. Pam had a huge shower put in, all marble and imported
fixtures. The three of us can easily fit in it. Which is what we do, so
I can wash them while wearing my chastity tube and feeling endless
frustration while I run my soapy hands over their bodies, especially my
wife's desirably burgeoning curves. Maybe they will tell me to write
more later. But I don't imagine I'll have anything good to include.
THE END
Madison
- 20.03.2022
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