Flowers For Pansy
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Chaste Pansy free porn video
CHASTE PANSY by Throne
Arnold had been under his wife Randi's thumb right from the start. While
they were dating and then after they wed, she had led him around by the
nose, using the lure of her voluptuous body and the power of her
manipulative mind to control him. There had been some sex but she always
got him overexcited, so that he would ejaculate before he got into her or
immediately after entering. Then she tricked him into making a bet with
her. When she said that women could go longer without penetrative sex
than men, he took the bait. Arnold suggested a wager in which whoever
gave in first and asked for real sex would be the loser. She acted
reluctant but accepted. The stakes were that the winner could dictate
how the other served them in bed. He saw it as an opportunity to finally
take control of their sex life.
But Randi was smart and sly. She began wearing the most seductive
outfits she could find. When he was behind her she would find some
excuse to bend over, showing off her wide ass. If he was in front of her
she would lean forward to display her impressive cleavage. Soon he was
falling apart. All he could think about was getting some relief from his
unmet needs. She would simply smile and say, "Are you asking me for sex,
darling? Do you want to put your dick inside me and feel how soft and
warm and wet I am? Hmmm?" That, as she had calculated, made him even
more horny.
Eventually he tried to negotiate a compromise. She acted disinterested
at first, letting him get so distracted that he wasn't thinking straight.
Then she said, "Well, I'll consider meeting you in the middle if you
agree to try something special." It turned out to be a chastity tube.
He was beyond desperate and said, "Whatever you want. I'll put it on if
that'll get you to reconsider." Once she had the device locked over his
penis he wanted to discuss their situation. She pointed out that she had
only said she would 'consider' some sort of settlement. When he said
that she should remove the tube, she noted that they hadn't set a time
limit on making him wear it.
The yearning husband cracked after two weeks in the device. His wife
decided that he could begin pleasing her in bed by using his mouth on her
pussy. Arnold had never done that before, hadn't wanted to. But she
reminded him that a bet was a bet and he had to pay for losing. With her
instructing him he was soon satisfying her several times a week, while
his own desires were still unfulfilled. He finally got onto his knees,
hands clutched in front of him, and begged for release from the tube.
She told him that she would be happy to do that, but only if he agreed to
further terms. With tears forming in his supplicating eyes, he asked
what else he had to do for her. Randi smiled and told him that she
wanted to play dress-up with him. Feeling defeated, and imagining that
she just wanted to put him into funny boxer shorts or maybe a butler's
vest and bow tie, he promised to wear whatever she said.
To his shocked surprise, she produced several pairs of panties and told
him to pick which one he wanted to put on. With no other way to go, he
reluctantly chose the purple ones, which seemed slightly less feminine
than the yellow or pink. Once he had them on and his wife had enjoyed a
hearty laugh at his expense, he requested that she finally free his
penis. She stuck out her lower lip and said, "Awww, do I have to? I
mean, the bet is still in effect. And I didn't say WHEN I would pop your
cage. So how about if you do something nice for my girl parts with your
mouth. After that I might... maybe... be ready to set your little dick
free. He sighed heavily and told her, "Yes, dear." Before they got into
bed she took a camisole top with spaghetti straps from the top of her
dresser and held it out to him, daring Arnold with her expression to
refuse it. His shoulders sagged and he lowered his eyes, which made him
look even more defeated. She said, "Go on, Arnie. Put on your pretty
new cami. Let's see how that sexy red looks with those colorful
panties."
He slipped it over his head and let it fall into place. She made him
hold its hem between his thumbs and forefingers, and even take a cute
curtsey. Next he had to do a slow-motion twirl. At last she lay back on
the bed, atop the covers. She was wearing a sleeveless top and short
skirt. Her husband had to get onto the foot of the bed, reach under that
tiny skirt, and work her panties down over her full thighs. She smiled
at him, at how girlish he appeared, and at how deeply he had fallen under
her power. She suggested, "Instead of lifting my skirt, why don't you
slip your head under it. I think that would look cute, don't you? With
your head under there, kind of bobbing up and down as you eat my pussy?"
In a muted voice he said, "Yes, Randi." She told him, "Then get to it,
Arnie. Or should I call you... Annie?" She chuckled. He blushed.
The shamed man wriggled forward on his belly and gingerly raised the
front of her skirt, getting his head under it and letting it drop. He
still hadn't developed a taste for pussy (so to speak) but because it was
his main form of sexual contact, he did respond to it, becoming wildly
aroused. Of course, he couldn't get an erection inside that little tube,
so the pleasure of being aroused was tempered by the discomfort of having
his dick trapped and squeezed that way. He lapped her dutifully while
she shifted her hips from side to side, kneaded her heavy breasts, and
moaned, contentedly at first and then with mounting pleasure. She made
him slow down, speed up, and than slack off again, prolonging her fun to
its limits. At last she soared up to a loud wet orgasm, after which he
had to gently lick her through an unhurried descent. She lay there, her
breathing returning eventually to normal, and then suggested, "Why don't
you look in the bottom of my closet, Annie? There's something there to
put on your little feet."
Unhappily he rose and opened the closet door. On the floor inside were a
pair of slippers covered in white faux fur, with open toes and two inch
heels. He was so humbled by then that she didn't even have to order him
to put them on. He simply did it. Randi said, "Walk around a bit. Get
used to them. Let's see how they shape your legs. Oh, so pretty. Be
sure to use feminine body language when you're wearing nice things like
those. And you'll have to start shaving your legs. And your crotch.
And underarms. And chest. In other words, everywhere. I know you have
hardly any body hair to begin with but, if we're going to play dress-up -
- and we are -- I want you looking the part. Right?" He muttered, "Yes,
darling." She sounded displeased when she said, "That's not the attitude
I want to hear. You need to appreciate all the effort I'm putting into
the new you. Now let's hear it again... but happier." His male ego
shriveled up inside as he put on a cheerful face, clapped his hands
lightly, and said, "Thank you, Randi. I'm glad you're doing so much to
help me with my... new look." "Much better," she congratulated. "Don't
you dare go back to being a Dour Dora. Or a Sour Suzie."
"Now what else can I do for you? What do YOU think?" she mused, putting
the tip of one finger under her chin. He thought desperately, trying to
figure out what she wanted to hear. Arnold just wanted to stay on her
good side and get this over with. He would be happy when he could get
out of those awful feminine things he was wearing. Randi suddenly
brightened and said, "I know. We can't play dress-up without putting
some yummy make-up on you. Not too much. I don't want you to be able to
pass for a girl. I prefer you being my pansy husband, who never pesters
me for sex but is always ready to snack on my pussy. And who speaks in a
soft voice. And uses his best ladylike body language. Right?" Stricken
by the idea of all that, he nevertheless responded, "Yes, dearest. I
want whatever you want." What he really wanted was to be let out of that
tube, but this appeared to be the path he had to follow to gain release.
She turned to her dresser top fussed with the selection of cosmetics
gathered at one end of it.
After a moment she settled on clear lip gloss with just a hint of pink in
it, tweezers to thin his eyebrows, and a pale blue eye shadow for his
upper lids. Randi made him take a few tentative steps in those slippers
and sit on her scroll-backed chair while she worked quickly and
efficiently to transform her husband into her... what? Gal pal? Lesbian
love slave? Sissy serving girl? Probably a combination of the three.
It was wonderful how well he had responded to all her manipulations and,
especially, to that chastity toy. Nothing is better for bending a man to
a woman's will than locking up his masculine pride and joy, even if it's
rather small like Arnold's. When she was done she made him turn his head
and examine himself in the mirror. He gasped at the sight of himself
looking both familiar and different. His eyebrows were subtly reshaped,
his lips reflected the light, and his eyes had a seductive bedroom look.
It was so unmanly, especially with that cami top on. He pouted until she
quickly reminded him to maintain his happy face.
Arnold forced another smile, glanced at her, and said, "Thank you, Randi.
I... like this so much. It's... a good look for me." She said, "Well,
if you like it so much, let's just keep you that way. And maybe we
should postpone letting you out of that chastity. I mean, wouldn't it be
silly, for you to have such a lovely look and then all of a sudden your
silly little dick pops up? No, this is better. I'll just keep you
locked up a while longer." He opened his mouth to say something but just
then her fingers went to the front of his camisole and teased his nipples
through it, making him pant and, at the same time, forget about getting
out of that tube. The stimulation made his dick strain against the
inside of the chastity, but it was futile. His sexual temperature kept
rising, his small balls drew up tight, but all to no avail. She
continued her fingering until he was dizzy with frustrated need. Only
then did she take his hand and say, "Ups-a-daisy. Let's get back to
learning to walk in those charming slippers." He got to his feet and
took several experimental steps. Soon he was able to move without the
threat of falling, though he had to take small cautious steps. She
advised him to maintain that gait, placing one foot in front of the
other. Her tone suggested that she didn't expect any disagreement.
Just like that she had him looking, moving and speaking like a proper
pansy. He hated it but what could he do? The way she had eroded his
confidence, outsmarted him, and gotten him to accept chastity -- those
all worked against him. For the next week, any time he wasn't at work,
she continued his training. With all the hair below his shaped eyebrows
gone, his soft body all pink and smooth, he had to mince about, arms
loose at his sides, hips displaying a slight swish, chin up and glossy
lips the tiniest bit puckered. Randi loved every second of it. With the
tube on, he was constantly horny from what she was putting him through.
And he was frequently serving her with his now-expert and willing mouth,
his balls aching as he gave her one climax after another. At last he
dared to remind her that she had said she would free him from chastity.
She was ready for that. Randi removed it, made him sit on a hard wooden
chair while wearing a cami top and open-crotch panties, along with
elastic-top stockings and a new pair of heeled slippers.
His hands went hesitantly toward is small but hard penis. Sounding like
a correcting Aunt, she wagged her finger and told him, "No, no, Annie. I
said I would take it off. What I didn't say was that you could play with
your funny little dicky." Before he could recover from that news, she
moved closer and straddled his thighs. Randi stood there, peering down
at him with total confidence. She was wearing a snug, long-sleeved top
and skin-tight slacks. The contrast between their clothing, how well
covered she was, and how exposed she had left him, made him feel
especially meek. His wife lowered herself until she was sitting on his
thighs, her impressive bust touching his thinly covered chest, her wide
bottom pressing down warmly against his bare upper legs. He was inflamed
with fresh passion. Up came her hands and her nimble fingers went to
work on his nipples, toying with them through the thin material of that
top. He moaned with suppressed yearning and involuntarily thrush his
narrow chest forward, wanting more even though it was elevating his
frustration to maddening levels. In no hurry, she casually teased him,
rolling her buttocks from side to side, purring seductively, and putting
her lips an inch from his to deliver several air kisses.
From the split front of his panties, Arnold's unimpressive dick
protruded. Randi slid forward, using her soft mound to press against it.
She whispered into his ear, "Does that feel nice, Annie? Do you want me
to keep doing it?" He caught his breath and said, "It feels wonderful.
But you have to let me finish. Please." "I do? Was that part of our
agreement?" "Well... no, but I thought..." "You thought being out of
your prick prison meant that you would get to finish? I don't know why
you would imagine such a thing. Foolish girl. What it really means is
that I'm going to tease you mercilessly, until your balls are like a
couple of overripe grapes, and they hurt all the time. And then do you
know what I'm going to do, little pansy?" He managed to say, sounding
shaky and unsure, "No." She explained, "And then I'm going to tease you
even more. On and on and on. Until you're ready to cry. Maybe until
you really do cry." "B... but that's not fair." She snickered and said,
"Fair, schmair. You got yourself into this and now I'm pulling your
strings. If you want a chance to avoid ending up with the world's worst
set of blue balls, there's one thing you can do." "W... w... what?"
She allowed him to fret for a few minutes while she ran her hands over
him and even took his wrists to place his palms on the fronts of her
hefty boobs. At last she revealed, "The one way you can get relief from
all this teasing and the stiffy it's giving you..." She gave his nipples
gentle tweaks. "... is to have me put you back into your chastity."
"Ah... all right. If you w... wan... want to." "Oh no," she said
merrily, "it's only if YOU want me to, Annie. Either you ask for it, or
I keep up this teasing until you have some kind of a breakdown, pretty
girl." He moaned and told her, "O... kay. Please, put it back on me."
"I can do that. But I don't want you fussing about putting it on and
taking it off and back and forth. So we need to agree on how long you
stay locked before I even think about letting your dick see the light of
day again. How long would be long enough? Three days? A week?" "Not a
whole week." "Okay. Ten days? Two weeks?" "N... no. I meant LESS
than a week." "You said 'not a whole week', so I moved on to the next
number of days. I was increasing it each time, so you knew it would get
longer. Right?" He was so confused and distracted. She put her hands
on the backs of his and made him rub her breasts. He felt her nipples
stiffen. They were so hard. Then she replaced his hands back at his
sides, and blew lightly into his face, letting him inhale her sweet
breath.
"So," she went on, "maybe three weeks?" "I can't... you sh...
shouldn't..." With a smile she advanced to, "One month?" He squirmed
under her. His lips moved but he couldn't speak. She happily concluded,
"All right, you win. Six weeks before we even mention letting you out
again. You must really enjoy having your mini-meat locked up. But since
you gave me such a hard time, and because I'm being nice enough to give
you what you really want, I think there should be something else in this
for me. So how about if..." She pretended to think about it. "... if I
keep teasing you for the entire time? Sound good? Then let's do it.
Back you go into that chastity tube that you love so much, and I'll
continue to keep you plenty juiced up, your dicky trying to get hard,
even though it won't be able to. We'll both have such a good time."
Knowing that he had been outmaneuvered -- again -- and that anything else
he said to try to fix the situation would only make it worse for him,
Arnold simply said, "Yes, dear. Thank you, Randi." She got up,
retrieved the chastity, and invited him to stand. He did but he was
still stiff. She made him go to the kitchen, with her following to be
sure he didn't try to sneak in an ejaculation, and he had to get an ice
pack from the freezer. She held it while Arnold was permitted to give
himself a few strokes, which naturally brought him back to a peak of
craving.
Only then did she have him hold the freezer pack against his privates to
reduce them to other smallest dimensions. She made a few jokes about how
tiny his parts had become before she placed the chastity back on him and
gleefully locked it. Then she stepped back, put her hands on her sexy
hips, and stood there letting him think about how much worse his
predicament had become. His lower lip trembled, which she found
charming. It made him appear extra girly. Then she smirked, stepped
close to him, and stroked the side of his face, saying, "Poor Annie girl.
Always getting herself into some kind of trouble. Let's go back to the
bedroom and play a game." He said, his voice small and wispy, "Yes,
darling. Whatever you want." She led the way, with him desperate to
touch that wide, swinging backside that was in front of him, so close but
now inaccessible unless she granted him permission to touch it.
Once they were in the bedroom she selected a tube of lipstick, opened it,
and showed him that it was a bright shade of red, which she informed him
was called Candy Apple. He thought she was going to apply it to his
mouth but instead she put it onto herself. Seeing his unspoken question
she explained, "No, I still want to keep you looking only halfway like a
girl, Annie. The pansy look. This is for the kissing game we're going
to play." She made him stand in front of her while she lightly rubbed
his shoulders, ran her fingers over his upper arms, and tickled his neck.
He was getting aroused all over again and, with that chastity tube re-
locked, it wasn't comfortable. She brought her face close to his and
placed a firm kiss on his cheek, pulled away, and then did the same on
the other side of his face. Randi turned him toward the dresser mirror
and he saw two vivid sets of lips prints decorating his face. Combined
with what he was wearing and the hint of cosmetics, it made him appear
blatantly not masculine. He blushed, which only added to the unwanted
effect.
His wife chuckled and then placed another kiss on his forehead, making
sure her full bust touched him. He shifted restlessly from slipper shod
foot to foot, unsettled by the innocent yet intimate contact. Randi
freshened her lipstick and planted the next several kisses on his neck,
chin, and the top of his chest. He was quivering from pent up need. His
libido was in hyper-drive but not able to take him anywhere. His bride
told him, "Lift up the front of that pretty camisole, Annie. Nice and
high." He brought it to a level where he was just able to peek over it.
She lowered her face and placed a kiss on the hairless center of his
chest and then a lingering one on each nipple, sending him through the
ceiling. She stepped back and told Arnold to lower the garment. He
could smell her lipstick on his face and body.
"Now that you're in the mood," she declared, "let's hit the sheets and
you can eat my pussy until I have some wild climaxes. At least one of us
will get to finish tonight. You have to wait... how long did you agree
to?" He lowered his eyes and, once more using his Annie voice, conceded,
"It was six weeks, Randi." "Really? You're sure?" "Yes, dearest."
"You really are quite the pervert, Annie, wanting to be kept locked up
like that. But who am I to judge? Now let's get busy. In fact, before
you start on my twat, you can pay some attention to my ass. Just pretend
it's another pussy and get your tongue working on it. Okay?" She asked
it as if he had a choice. As completely snared as he was, he tactfully
replied, "Yes, Randi. Whatever you say." She made a mental note to get
him stuttering again. It was so amusing to make him lose control of not
only his appearance and sex life, but even his ability to speak. She had
him kneel and peel down her slacks, but she kept the top on so he would
still be less dressed than her. She loved playing mind games with her
pansy husband.
So he served her, back and then front, while his confined penis continued
to strain against its chastity. His moans of desperation got her hot, as
did having her butt worshipped by his mouth. And already she was
planning more outfits for him, ones that would shame him to no end.
Visions of him in panties and tube tops, a thong and stockings and a
choker, or maybe a floppy pink beret, bow tie on an elastic band, and a
spangled vest, engaged her racing imagination as he lapped away at her.
She smiled contentedly and vowed never to let him escape her clutches.
Soon she was rushing toward the first of what would be a trio of loud
satisfying orgasms. By the time he was finally done she was already
formulating new mischief. After her last finish she rolled onto her side
and told him to wedge his face between her bum cheeks and keep it there.
Once he got his features buried in the humid earthy cleft of her sitter,
she reached over to the bedside table and got her cell phone. Randi hit
the pre-set number of one of her girlfriends. While Arnold listened
helplessly, totally cowed by the spot she had put him in, his nose
against her nether pucker, she asked her pal for the number of a golfing
club she played at. "Yeah," Randi said, after she had entered the number
in her cell's address book. "I want to take some lessons. I'll get a
cute golf outfit with a form-fitting top and short-shorts. Then I'll
have one of those handsome young instructors give me lessons. Do they
really stand behind you and reach around, to position your hands on the
club? They do? Well, I can't wait to see what that'll lead to."
It was two weeks after that when Randi came home on Saturday afternoon
with a hunky guy in white slacks and a blue sports shirt. Her golf pro.
She called for Arnold to come and meet him. The harried husband was
wearing a sleeveless peach top, brief apricot shorts, banana yellow ankle
socks, and pomegranate slip-ons. He looked like a fruit salad. Randi
said, "Carl, this is my husband Arnie, but he prefers to be called Annie.
The poor dear's been going through some gender identity issues. Annie,
say hello to my new friend." In a high breathy voice Arnold said,
"Hello, Carl." The tall man just said, "Right," while giving him a
skeptical look. Randi put both hands on Carl's hard bicep and rubbed it
suggestively, saying, "I don't guess you'd want arms like this, Annie.
Would you?" Licking his glossy lips, Arnold had to say, "No, sweetie.
No th... thank y... y... you." Ah, there was that endearing stutter.
Randi told Carl, "It hasn't been easy for me since my spouse began
exploring his pansy side. I've really missed certain perks of marriage."
She pressed herself against the athletic man and said, "Speaking of
which, would you like to see my bedroom?" He grinned at her and said he
would. Then he threw a harsh look of warning at Arnold, who cowered and
broke eye contact.
The pansy husband stayed where he was while they vanished into the
bedroom. It had been so demeaning to be seen in that outfit. He heard
the unmistakable sounds of foreplay and then vigorous sex, with Randi
giving her new lover endless compliments and saying what a dud Arnold had
always been in the sack. It went on for nearly and hour before she
called for her spouse. The girlishly dressed man went to the door and
said shyly, "Yes, dear?" She ordered him to bring them two wine glasses
and a bottle of white that had been chilling in the fridge, so they could
'celebrate'. When Arnold, now more shamed than ever because he had been
so openly cuckolded, stepped gingerly into the room, he was greeted by
the sight of his nude wife snuggled against the equally clothes-free
stud. The sheets were pushed down to the foot of the bed. Carl's cock,
larger even now that it was soft than Arnold's was hard, rested on his
firm hairy thigh. Randi reached down absently and gave it a squeeze.
Arnold swallowed with difficulty and struggled to open the wine. It was
just a screw-off cap, but Carl had to remove it for him. Arnold poured
with a trembling hand and watched while the pair clinked glasses and
toasted to, as Carl said arrogantly, 'many repeat performances'. They
drank and then Randi got up onto one elbow to kiss him warmly, prolonging
it while their tongues met and then entered each others' mouths. Arnold
could only stand there in his humiliating outfit and sniffle, the bottle
clutched to his bright feminine top. His wife smiled wickedly at him and
said, not in a mean way but making it clear she was serious, "Get used to
it, Annie girl. There will be lots more showy outfits for you to wear,
plenty of serving my pussy with your mouth, and definitely as much of
what you just had to listen to as Carl wants to give me. He's the
complete opposite of you. And now that I have him, I've thought about
when I might feel like letting your tiny dick out for some exercise, and
I've decided to add another -- oh, I don't know -- how about six weeks
additional to your time under lock and key? That'll make it almost a
quarter of a year. And after that I'll think about it again." She
rubbed the side of her face against Carl's sculpted chest and looked back
at Arnold while she warned the cuckold, "But you shouldn't get your hopes
up, pansy Annie."
******
Elouise
- 20.10.2020
- 7
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