Sissy spit roast sleep over
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SISSY SNIPPETS by Throne
(Bits and pieces from my fevered imagination. Hope you each find
something you like.)
I had never been into jogging, even though my wife Marla ran every
chance she got and repeatedly tried to get me to accompany her. That
changed when I lost a bet with her about who could do more chin-ups. I
was more out of shape than I had thought and she beat me handily. My
wife had said that if she won, I would have to go jogging with her for a
month, and that she would pick my outfit. Well, how bad could that be?
I found out after my defeat, when she told me to follow her to our
bedroom, saying, "I knew you would lose, so your togs are already laid
out."
Imagine my surprise when I saw what she had selected. It was a pink
sleeveless top with the word SPEEDY across the chest in curling letters,
along with a pair of tiny shorts in the same colors. There were also
white ankle socks and pale red running shoes. When I started to object
she reminded me that if I had won, she was going to do whatever I wanted
in bed. "Now," she announced, "I don't have to give you ANY sex until
you pay your debt." "B... but, that'll be a full month." "Tough. A
bet is a bet." "Yeah, except I didn't know that..." She stepped close
to me and made a fist right in front of my face. After being beaten so
easily in chin-ups, and remembering that she had taken a self-defense
class a few months ago, I suddenly wanted to avoid a physical
confrontation.
She told me to strip and stood there smirking as I obeyed. When I
picked up the unmanly shorts I got a shock. Underneath them was a pair
of high-cut panties, apricot colored. I turned to her, my mouth opening
and closing but no words coming out. Marla set her jaw and dared me
with her look to refuse. My shoulders sagged as I picked up the frilly
garment and stepped into it. When I had the panties on she giggled at
me and made me walk around for several minutes, insisting that I display
good posture. Then I got into the rest of the humiliating attire. My
wife donned a tank top, long running pants, and a brief jacket, which
she zipped halfway up. All of her clothes were black and red, including
the shoes. She had white socks that vanished into her pant legs. Then
she pulled back her hair, which made her appear rather butch. I wanted
to tell her she needed some make-up but by then I was feeling totally
unassertive.
Marla went to the closet and grabbed a baseball cap for herself, purple
and white. What she plopped onto my head was a tiny orange cap with a
narrow front brim. I felt foolish and even, well, effeminate. I
hesitated and Marla grabbed my upper arm, her fingers sinking into my
soft bare flesh and hurting me. She marched me to the front door and
outside. Just my luck, one of her female friends was driving by and
stopped to say hello. I had to stand there in my shameful clothes while
they gabbed. Bob from across the street came out to check his mail box
and stopped, staring at the ridiculous sight I made. He turned his head
away but not before I spied his amused grin. At last we got into my
wife's car and she drove us to the park.
As we strolled from the parking area to the jogging path, everyone
looked at us. My wife is attractive, so guys always let their eyes
linger on her. But I drew unwanted attention with my wimpy look. We
began to run and soon I was huffing and puffing. Marla pulled ahead. A
handsome and very fit man approached along an intersecting path and
paced her. They began to chat effortlessly, while I struggled just to
control my ragged breathing and not fall further behind. It was awful
to see her with some stud who outclassed me, especially while I was
dressed that way. That was when I remembered her announcement that I
was cut off from sex for four weeks. My wife loves to screw and, before
our marriage, was a notorious party girl. The guy was obviously hitting
on her by the time we were halfway around the course. I had a bad, bad
feeling about where this was going to lead.
***
In the year that Bob had been married to Kat, she had made a new man of
him. Rather, she had made a new sissy. She spotted him six months
before they wed and went after him. He was exactly the type she wanted
-- short, weak, and easily manipulated. While they were dating she
insisted that she was saving herself, and denied him intercourse. At
the same time, she explained that she had extreme sex needs and, if he
wanted to keep seeing her, he would have to satisfy those needs by using
his mouth on her pussy. What could he do? Bob certainly couldn't
attract another woman as hot as her. She had a generous bust, wide
hips, full thighs and, best of all for him, a big round butt. He was
addicted to her body from the start and so went along with her demands.
He even learned to ignore it when she ogled tall rugged men and openly
flirted with them. Any time they went out she wore clothes that showed
off her exaggerated curves. He accepted it all.
After the wedding he was desperately eager to claim her body. But in
the honeymoon suite she began talking about how inadequate his penis
was. She snapped at him to give her the usual pussy licking, after
which she would let him have his fun. Totally cowed by that time, he
did as he was told. Kat had a loud climax and then said, "All right,
Bobby. Get up here alongside me, on your back." Once he was in
position she began to finger his little dick. He moaned and twitched
under her teasing ministrations. She said, "Listen, boy, what you've
got between your legs is way too small to satisfy me... or any woman...
ever. So you can be my pussy slurping husband and, if you do a good job
of that, I might give you some of this when I feel like it. Agreed? Or
do you want me to get an annulment and let you go back to being a lonely
loser? I don't care what you decide. But it might be nicer for you to
have me fiddle with your pinky finger dick than doing it yourself.
What's it going to be, Bobby?" He panted and shoved his hips upward,
wanting her to manipulate his organ more firmly. He told her
whimperingly, "Yes, Kat. I'm sorry. I don't deserve to have sex with
you. Please, just don't stop... what you're doing." "Of course not,
sweet cakes. I want my widdle man and his widdle dicky to be happy."
She chuckled softly. He had caved in on her first try. The poor jerk
was never going to feel his undersized prick inside her warm soft pussy.
And he would be lapping her to all the orgasms she could stand.
But there was more to do to make sure he knew his place in this
marriage. She continued lightly touching him, keeping him agitated but
never making him cum. It went on and on until he was close to tears.
Kat granted him a half dozen real wanks and then, as he was about to go
over the top, withdrew her hand. Bob's penis pulsed and thin cream
oozed from its end, but he was denied a real finish. She had just given
him his first ruined orgasm. It would be the only type he was allowed.
While he was still absorbing that disappointment, she got up and went to
her suitcase. From it she took a wrapped package and, handing it to
him, explained, "One of my girlfriends got this for you. She said it's
because you're such a wuss." His arms trembled as he carefully opened
it. Inside were two three-packs of panties. They were colorful and
several sizes too small for him. He started to say something but his
bride cut him off, insisting, "We don't want to let my friend down, so
you go to the bathroom and wipe off that mess you got on yourself and
put a pair of them right on. I can take a picture with my phone to show
her."
Feeling emotionally dizzy, he got up, cleaned himself, and stepped into
a peach colored pair. They compressed his puny genitals. Bob felt
ashamed and yet, somehow, being controlled by his new wife excited him,
and being made to do this was part of that. He meekly returned to her
and stood there, knees together, his penis shrunk to its smallest from
having just cum, hugging himself. Kat looked him up and down and
snorted derisively. "Now I'm positive," she said, "that I will NEVER
treat you like a man. In fact, Bobby, I won't even use your male name.
From now on, when we're together alone, you will be... Barbie." She
nodded, happy with his rechristening. "So come here -- Barbie -- and we
can make it official." Kat rolled onto her belly, putting her overly
full ass uppermost for him to stare at. She looked back at him, spread
her legs, and said simply, "Kiss it, Barbie." He quivered with fear and
excitement at this new and overwhelming experience. "Do it," she
advised calmly, "so I'll know you're ready to commit to what I have
planned for you." To be utterly in her thrall would be... intoxicating.
But he didn't want to surrender his manhood. Or did he?
Bob got between her outstretched legs, on his knees, and looked down at
those smooth pale buttocks. They were so beautiful. So desirable. He
brought his face down, closer and closer, to press his lips to first one
side and then the other. Without being told to he took a deep breath,
buried his face between them, and planted the longest kiss so far at the
bottom of that valley of flesh. He kept himself there, in the humid
musky space, feeling her warmth as it radiated against his features. He
kissed again, fervently, and then extended his tongue to impart the most
intimate, perverse acknowledgement of his submission. Kat purred
approvingly and gave her wide hips a wriggle. He interpreted her
message correctly and kept on with what he was doing, providing her with
prolonged stimulation in that sensitive area. She rode the waves of
pleasure for a half hour before experiencing a sort of mini-climax and
its accompanying afterglow. Not until she had gotten the maximum of
satisfaction did she allow him to cease. He brought up his red
perspiring face, lips parted, and worked to get his breathing back to
normal.
Before the flush left his cheeks she got her cell phone and took several
pictures of him in the panties. When she sent them she said, "Oops."
He asked uncertainly, "What's the matter?" "Oh, nothing. Instead of
sending them to my friend who gave you those lovable panties, I
accidently hit SEND TO ALL. Can you believe that? Everybody in my
address book is going to see you looking like such a candy ass. Such a
sissy." She laughed as if it was some minor mistake. They would ALL be
seeing him that way. She didn't care. Maybe she even thought it was a
good thing. Maybe she had intentionally...
Interrupting his thoughts, she said, "Good girl, Barbie. Since I'm sure
you got off on that ass kissing and want to do it all the time, I'm
going to make it a regular part of our bedroom games. And you will
ALWAYS wear panties." She chortled. "Tomorrow I'm going to add some
more pretty things to your new at-home wardrobe and, whenever you wear
them, it will remind you to act like Barbie, and not Bobby. You will
walk and talk like a swish and if you forget yourself, I'll have to
punish you. Right?" He shivered and then, being careful to soften his
voice and pitch it higher, answered, "Yes, Kat. I want to do whatever
you tell me to. I'll be your good... sissy." She rolled onto her back
and said, "You can start by giving my snatch a long slow eating. And I
want you to talk to it, in your sweet girly voice, and tell Miss Pussy
how much you love her and how you understand that you're only allowed to
kiss there, and never on my lips. While we're at it, you can't touch my
boobs on the bare any more, only through whatever I'm wearing. That's
what happens to a husband when his wife turns him into her sissy."
The next day he was subjected to being taken on a shopping trip at the
local mall, with his wife picking clothing for him and making sure the
salesgirls knew who was going to be wearing it. Kat even made several
extra stops at the end for cosmetics and accessories. She tested
colored lip gloss on him, leaving his mouth bright pink. Poor Bob was
humiliated beyond his wildest imaginings. He walked along hauling half
a dozen bags, his cheeks burning with shame. As soon as they got home
she made him strip, right inside the front door, and stand there naked
while she played with his nipples and gave him one of his tiny
erections, which she delighted in taunting him about. "Look," she
ridiculed, "it's like a cock, only smaller. Much smaller. There is no
way you will ever be anything but a pussy licker for me or any female."
Kat's eyes lit with a devilish glow. "That gives me an idea." Bob got
a chill. She pinched his ear and dragged him along to their bedroom,
with him carrying the multiple bags from the mall. "Time to play dress-
up," she said with an impish smile. He had to array her major purchases
(all made with HIS charge cards, naturally) on the bedspread. Then he
laid out the make-up and smaller items on the dresser. Kat actually
cackled, like a wicked witch, as she began his transformation. An hour
later she told him to go to their modest home's living room. As he
left, taking the mincing steps she required, swaying his hips and
keeping his elbows at his sides, Kat opened her cell phone and hit a
number.
Twenty minutes later he had made a pitcher of pina coladas and poured
one for her. As she took her first sip the doorbell rang. She told
him, "Go answer that, Barbie. Invite my friends in." Bob stood there,
paralyzed. His lips opened and closed, making small sounds. "B... b...
b... but..." "No buts," she told him sternly. "Unless it's my butt on
your face, ass kisser. Now go answer that door." As he moved toward
the door, his butt wiggling, he thought about how he looked. She had
fussed with his hair, poofing it up and spraying it to stay that way.
On his face were light but unmistakable touches of cosmetics. Around
his neck was an off-white choker with an ornamental button in its center
that was decorated with a stylized letter B for Barbie. He had on a
clinging, long sleeved top with wide horizontal stripes in rainbow
colors, along with peach colored panties -- with an open crotch to show
off his immature dick. Below that were stay-up stockings in pale
yellow, and close-fitting slippers of a brighter yellow. The total
effect was not to make him look like a girl, but to loudly announce that
he was a feminized male, a total sissy. He winced at the picture he
made, even as he put his hand on the doorknob.
When he opened the door he was confronted by two of Kat's gal pals.
They were both as voluptuously sexy as her. Worse, they knew him. But
now they referred to him by his sissy name. "Hello, Barbie. Your
perfume is delightful." "Hi, sweet cheeks. I guess you're flashing
your itty bitty dicklet so we can have a good laugh. That's all the
pathetic waste of skin is good for, Barbie." "And we LOVED that picture
of you that Kat sent to us. And to everyone." They gave him air kisses
and then brushed past him. He watched them go, focusing on their
wonderfully large asses, which were still tempting despite the long
loose skirts they wore. When he got to the living room they were just
sitting down and Kat told him to get them drinks. When he returned from
that the three women were chatting happily about how Kat had made him
over into such a wuss. "And," one of the girls said suggestively, "a
dedicated pussy eater." "Yes," said the other, pulling her skirt up to
her knees, "which is something we should experience so, you know, we can
fully appreciate it." Kat looked at her shamefully unmanned spouse and
said, "You heard the ladies, Barbie. They want your sissy tongue all
over their pussies. Get busy, girl." He blinked back tears as he sank
to his knees and crawled toward the one who had elevated her hem. As he
got his head between her legs she dropped the material over him.
Seconds later he discovered that she hadn't worn any panties.
The women kept talking while he pleasured the first guest and then the
second, finishing with his wife. He ended up crouched in the middle of
the room with all of them eyeing him with mocking expressions. His
wife's conclusion was that, "If I'm ever going to get my sissy husband's
mind in the right place and keep it there, I'll have to have him on a
steady diet of pussy. I hope you two don't mind coming around whenever
you need a good licking, to help me out with him. Maybe bring a friend
or two." They both said that would be fine and Kat concluded with, "So
he can start right now and work his way around the room again."
***
My wife Zelda and her lover Barry had me in the back seat of his long
sleek luxury car. I was wearing panties and a girl's top that buttoned
up the front and left my belly bare. Plus decorated sandals. That was
all. She had also trimmed and fixed my hair so that I had a sort of
punk-chic style. And given me a single earring, a hoop with a heart in
its middle. Plus liner and mascara on only one eye. I resembled a
sissy who wanted to draw attention to himself. But I'm straight and the
last thing I wanted was anyone seeing me like that. I pleaded, "Please,
just take me home. I won't complain again that you two are having sex."
My words came out with a lisp due to the tongue piercing they had gotten
me, which was meant to have that effect. Not heeding my piteous
begging, Barry swung into a delivery alley that ran behind several
buildings. He stopped at a door that was painted bright red. There was
a single light over it by which I could read the words, CLUB KINQUE.
"Oh, noooo," I moaned. "Yep," said Barry. "That's the place we've been
threatening to send you to." "Right," agreed my wife. "You keep saying
you won't blubber and complain while we're screwing, but you always do.
A guy with a tiny dicky should just accept that his wife has to find a
real man to have sex with. And that if it amuses her to turn him into a
sissy, that's her right."
I started to sniffle. "I know. I'm sorry." Of course, that last word
came out as 'thorry'. "I'll behave. Honest." Which was 'honetht'.
But they weren't about to relent. Barry got out and opened the back
door, grabbed my bare slender arm, and hauled me from the car. My wife
stepped up to me and ran a brush through my hair, saying, "It doesn't
work unless you have these little spikey things standing up." A tear
ran down my smooth cheek as they hustled me to the scarlet door and
buzzed for admittance. The buzzer was answered by a hulking brute in
black leather. He looked down at me, how I was being easily controlled
by my wife's lover, and grinned evilly. His long arm shot out and he
dragged me inside. The couple followed and Barry said to the doorman,
"Like I told you on the phone, you can have our sissy for the entire
weekend while we're out of town. Make him wait on tables, dance on
stage, or be the bathroom attendant. Whatever you want." "Exactly,"
said my wife. "But don't go easy on him. Punishments are fine.
Anybody and everybody can use his mouth. He has a butt plug in and is
only allowed to remove it for potty time, so his cute ass is just for
fondling and spanking." The big man laughed and ran his hand down the
center of my narrow chest. He leaned close and lightly bit my ear lobe.
I shuddered and, in spite of myself, my penis got hard.
"See," said my wife, "he loves it. The silly little wimp is just in
denial. Maybe by the time we pick him up you'll have helped him get in
touch with his real self." I wanted to object, to explain that my
physical reaction was only because I hadn't been granted any sexual
relief for weeks and weeks. In desperation I finally opened my mouth to
defend myself but the leather man seized my head with both hands and
planted a kiss on my parted lips, thrusting his tongue in deep. I felt
the rough stubble of his manly face. Zelda patted my ass and said into
my ear, "I think this'll do it, sissy boy. I honestly believe that
three nights here will put you in touch with your real self. When
you're head is totally messed up we'll have a psychiatric evaluation
done, get you declared incompetent, and you'll be put into my care.
Barry can move in and you'll be a complete slut sex slave -- for both of
us. I won't divorce you because I'll need time to take over all your
plentiful assets. Years and years. We'll have so much fun while I'm
reducing you to poverty. Ta ta for now," she finished, and they left.
The tall horny man slammed the door. He forced me into a squat and told
me to stay that way, then duck walked me into the next room where a
dozen more who resembled him peered at me with greedy interest. There
were many more in the club beyond. That was when I started to weep.
***
Joe was really excited to be joining a swingers group. The other three
couples were all good looking, the men handsome and the women
voluptuous. His wife was a stunner. Sure, he was on the short side and
kind of soft, but what could go wrong? I mean really... what could go
wrong?
***
THE END
(If you enjoy short pieces like these, please check my other
contribution, HALLOWEEN SCENES.)
Rowan
- 31.12.2021
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