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This one was written in response to requests made in reviews of some of my other stories, like USELESS SISSY HUSBANDS, FORCED INTO IT and HE MARRIED NORA. I initially titled this YUMMY WUSSY HUBBYS, but decided that might be too much for some readers. Anyway, the current title fits nicely and describes the husbands' new identities well. SISSY SISTERS by Throne It was a party night and the feminized husbands hated that. It was so shameful to be dressed in their sissy finery and shown off to all the guests. But their wives -- and their wives' stallion boyfriends -- loved doing it to them. So Bob and Ron, in their girly IDs of Barb and Rona, had spent the day cleaning house. They had on revealing outfits that showed off their soft hairless bodies. Bob was wearing a snug top that ended just below his nipples. He had on a thong that accentuated just how small his package was. He also wore leg warmers covered with horizontal stripes in eye-popping colors. On his feet were pink bedroom slippers with a big plastic flower on each one. His only consolation was that Ron's outfit was just as bizarre. On the other husband's head was a floppy beret covered with a rainbow of sequins. His smooth chest was left bare by a fuzzy pink vest. Police crime scene tape, bright yellow with the words DO NOT CROSS on it, had been fashioned into a sort of bikini bottom and pinned together. Ron wore leg warmers like Bob's, but his stripes were vertical. His feet were encased in ballet slippers. They were busy dusting and polishing, pushing a carpet sweeper and had to shake rugs out back. That last job was really awful, because the yard bordered on someone else's. It helped that the owners of that other home were going to be guests at the party, and had seen them before, but it didn't help much. Bob and Ron, each with a small throw rug in hand, slipped out the back door. Even though it was a warm afternoon, they both shivered. They hurriedly flapped the rugs, looking like two swishy matadors. Just as they finished, someone came through the sliding glass doors at the rear of the other house. It was Evie, a tall busty blond who thought the she-males were cute. She called, "Hello, girls. Don't go rushing back inside. Let me get a better look at you." The males cringed inwardly, not wanting to be examined, but there came the loquacious woman. She was scantily clad and, as both of the husbands were straight, they couldn't keep from admiring her curves. She walked right up to them and said, "Aren't you just yummy? You must be so happy that your wives dress you. I mean, what lucky sissies to be married to women who understand you." She walked around them, taking in every detail. "Now which one of you was it who had such sensitive nipples? Hmmm? Was it YOU?" She reached out to finger Bob's chest through its thin covering. He squirmed but his knees stayed together and his feet never moved. His wife had trained him well. The stimulation made his dick hard and it pressed out against the thong. Evie spotted the bump it made and tittered at how small it was. Then she turned to Ron. "Or maybe was it YOU?" She lightly pinched and rolled his bare nipples. He writhed with unreleased sexual energy. She smiled at him as she made him do that humiliating dance. The tape was so tight that he couldn't become erect. At last she said, "Now I remember. You're BOTH touchy right there. Just like girls. Hee, hee, hee. I guess there's all sorts of stuff you little pervs enjoy. You're probably always wanting to try something new. And from what I hear, you'll get a chance tonight at the party." She put her hand over her mouth. "Oops. Don't think I was supposed to say that. Well, it'll be our secret. Just us gals." She leaned close to each of them, bending slightly to put her face opposite theirs because they were so short, and gave each an air kiss. "Now you two get the house nice and clean. Bye bye." Off she went, her shapely bottom wiggling. The men-turned-sissies looked at each other with concern. Their spouses discouraged them from discussing what went on but Bob whispered, "Did Lara say anything to you about something... new?" "No," Ron replied in a hushed voice. "Lara didn't say..." He shook his head. Bob told him, "Kay didn't even drop a hint. But I don't like the sound of it. Ever since our wives found out we were a little bit interested in dressing, and then got so carried away, I never know what they're going to do next." They looked at each other, at those outlandish outfits, at the light application of make-up on their faces, and at their smooth, pink, hairless skin. They were just a couple of useless sissy husbands who had been forced into it. Sure, they were drawn to being feminine, but they had never thought about going this far. They had a buddy who had gotten into the same kind of situation. He met this woman, Nora, who was naturally dominant. Then he married Nora and had been robbed of his masculinity in terrible ways. Bob and Ron gave their rugs an extra shake, just in case anyone was watching, and scampered inside. They hurried, with their pert bottoms wiggling saucily, to replace the rugs where they belonged. The clock was ticking. Eventually the cleaning was all done. It was time for them to get themselves prepared for the big evening. They went to their wives to make sure no additional jobs had been added to their list. Kay and Lara were relaxing in the den, leaving all the chores to their wussy husbands. The women were tall and attractive, with long hair and perfect complexions. "So," Lara said, "you're all done cleaning, Rona?" "And you, Barb?" Kay added. The men nodded. They stood there uncomfortably, while their wives resumed talking about shoes they wanted to buy -- for themselves -- until the women were ready to go on. At last Lara said, "You sweethearts can go and get showered." Their husbands curtsied and turned, intending to go and take turns in the tiny stall shower that they normally used. But Kay stopped them. She said, "Hold on, ladies. We decided to let you use the bigger shower upstairs. It'll save you time. You can shower together." The men had never done that before. They stood there in shock. Lara decided out loud that the wives should accompany them. Kay thought that was a good idea, so that they wouldn't play with themselves. Or each other. But they were never allowed to touch themselves 'in an inappropriate manner' and they definitely didn't want to put their hands on each other. This was as disturbing as what Evie had said. The men headed up the steps with their mates right behind them. In the bathroom Lara said, "Rona, you undress Barb." Kay said, "And Barb, you help Rona out of her clothes." The guys gingerly took bits of clothing off each other, unhappily having their fingers brush against male flesh. This was way beyond anything they had fantasized about. Soon they were both naked and got herded into the tub enclosure. Lara turned on the water and got the temperature balanced, as if she couldn't trust the males to do it. She started the shower and had them stand under it. But for both of them to take advantage of the spray, they had to be exceedingly close together, so that parts of each made contact with parts of the other. She pulled shut the curtain but it was transparent, so the women could stand there and be amused by what they saw. "Now shampoo each other's hair, girls," Lara said cheerily. "And then you can wash each other's backs," Kay informed them. "Just soap up your hands. I accidently-on-purpose forgot to put a washcloth in there." The guys put shampoo on each other's heads and stood there rubbing it in. They were in no hurry to get to the next step, when they would have to use their hands on each other's bodies. The women watched patiently; if the men waited, it prolonged their uncomfortable situation; if they rushed, it meant doing the unthinkable that much sooner. But finally it was time. They stepped back out of the main spray and Bob lathered up his palms. Ron did the same. What they used was body wash, but it was a type intended for females. Its scent was called Tropical Tease. They took turns rubbing each others shoulders and then working their way down. It was just awful. Then they peered through the curtain, hoping to be told they could rinse off and be done. But their wives wouldn't let them escape so easily. Instead, Lara advised them, "You did that so well that you should wash each other all over." "That's right," Kay seconded. "A clean body makes a clean mind." The unhappy husbands didn't know exactly how that applied but they did know that they had no alternative. So they got their hands soapy once more and simultaneously began washing each other's chests. They couldn't avoid touching nipples and that got them both excited. Their little penises began to rise. Lara noticed that embarrassing occurrence and commented, "Look, Kay. Their pixie dicks are getting bigger." "Yes," her friend agreed. "But not MUCH bigger." They both laughed as the men continued to wash each other's hairless bodies. There were all sorts of amusing attempts to avoid certain areas, but the women wouldn't allow that. They insisted that their spouses do a good job on the important genital area and that tricky spot between the buttocks. By the time they were done in those places, both of them had small but very stiff erections. To finish the job they had to take turns kneeling to lave the other's feet. The women even made them rinse each other, though it was hardly necessary. When they were permitted to step out, red faced and each of them clutching his hands together, they were told to rub each other dry with large fluffy towels. Because of the continued touching, even through the terrycloth, they couldn't lose those unwanted badges of arousal. "Ha, ha, ha." Lara thought it was wildly funny. "We'll have to make them do things like this a lot." "Tee hee hee." Kay shook her head as she giggled. "They're turning into a couple of sissy sisters." The men had to hang up the towels and stand there in the nude, their skin so smooth and pink. They were shivering a bit, so Lara told them to hug each other for body warmth. Plainly, they didn't want to do that. As they put their arms around each other it looked like they were going to faint from shame. They were ordered to put their chins over each other's shoulders. Each penis was pressed against the opposite tummy. They were left to suffer in silence for a few more minutes while the women chatted about their boyfriends and how much fun they would be at the party. Finally it was time to get the husbands dressed. Everything was prepared in the bedroom. There were clothes laid out on the bed and cosmetics arranged at the vanity table. The wives went to work with a passion. Soon they had their sissy husbands ready for the party. The men were reluctant to leave the room, to go where they would soon be seen by others. And no wonder, considering how they looked. Though their hair was not long, the women had managed to create several short tails, sticking up from each one's scalp, by using tiny rubber bands. Their faces were made up like a couple of dolls, with too much of everything. They had on toddler-style smocked dresses, obviously custom made, with narrow shoulder straps. The woman who made them, a friend of Lara's, had been instructed to cut them short, short, short, so that they extended only slightly past the waist. That allowed them to show off the ruffled panties the husbands had on. As if that wasn't bad enough, the seamstress had also modified the panties to give them openings through which their penises could be exposed. Those were so cleverly done that there was no risk of the members slipping back inside. They wouldn't be able to escape their shame even accidently. Their arms and legs were bare. On their feet they wore delicate slippers. Everything was in pastel girly colors. Ron's dress had appliques of ladybugs. Bob's featured similar decorations, but of canaries. Their mates made them swish around and show off their pansy pretties. It was getting closer to party time, however, so they set the husbands to work preparing snacks. They had terrible memories of their wives taking them to Mall Mart, that huge store, to buy the food. It had been the previous day and they had fun dressing their husbands. Both guys were put into tank tops and leggings. They protested weakly that leggings are not pants, but the women insisted, even though the men's high-cut panties showed clearing through the tightly stretched material covering their lower halves. Even their shoes had been slip- ons in flashy colors. A lot of shoppers at Mall Mart dressed down, or dressed up in odd ways, but even among them Ron and Bob stood out glaringly. It had been a shame-inducing trip. The sissies worked on the snacks distractedly, dreading what was yet to come. They pictured themselves serving the edibles, being stared at, laughed at, and who knew what else. That was why it was a shock when they were given name stickers, prettily pink-bordered ones, with their girl names on them, and told what their real roles would be. "There we go," Lara said as she inspected Ron's ID. "Now everybody'll know who you are when you provide the entertainment." "Right," agreed Kay as she did the same for Bob. "I can't wait to see the floorshow." Entertainment? Floorshow? What were they talking about? The guys had little time to think about that because, within minutes, the first guests arrived. They were a young, good looking couple. The sissy pair were uncomfortably aware of how tall and masculine the fellow was. He and his gal smirked at the silly looking men who had to admit them and take their coats. More people showed up. Eventually there were eight couples. Then Lara and Kay's lovers got there. Both of them were wealthy and powerful men, as masculine as they could be. Right in front of Ron and Bob they hugged and kissed the wives, and freely patted their appealing bottoms. It was difficult for the husbands to see that but what could they do? After all, they were in no position to deny their sissy status. Everyone settled into the spacious recreation room. There was ample seating spread around the perimeter of the space, with an area in the center that was empty except for two large footstools, a few feet apart. Lara announced, "Now that we've all settled in, it's time for the show to begin. Our stars will be Rona and Barb, two really fem fairy-boys. I mean, we can barely keep them apart from each other. And the way they moon over butch guys, when they see them on TV or anywhere..." She rolled her eyes. "...they're like a couple of dogs in heat." There was amused laughter all around the room. Ron and Bob glanced worriedly at each other. What was she saying? They never touched each other, unless it was embarrassing moments like that staged scene in the shower. And there had never been any times nearly so... intimate... as that one. Neither of them had any interest in hunky studs. Despite everything their brides had put them through, both still though of themselves as straight guys who would shed their girly attributes in a second, if they were allowed to. But they also knew that if their wives said those things about them, it would be dangerous to contradict them by word or action... or inaction. Kay said, "Barb and Rona, why don't you two hold hands and stroll around the room. Let all our visitors get a good look at you. If they haven't already." That remark provoked chuckles. Of course all the attendees had been eyeing them from the beginning. Who could resist watching such a pair of ridiculous looking specimens? Even so, the husbands had to join hands and circle the room, aware of the rough fabrics and muted colors that the real men wore, their masculine shoes and several examples of facial hair. Lara stopped Ron and Bob after their first circuit and suggested, "Why don't you two show us how much you're attracted to each other. Share a nice close hug." Against their wills, the spouses had to embrace and press their slender bodies together. They were unhappily aware of their exposed penises and how they were held tightly against each other's panty fronts. Kay got into the action and made them grind their hips, which set off more amused reactions. Someone said, "I'm surprised they're not kissing." Another voice wondered out loud, "Why aren't we seeing any ear nibbling?" The wives took a few threatening steps toward their grooms. Ron and Bob got the message and, even though they had never done it before, they put their lips together. One of the women mentioned that they probably liked to use their tongues, so they had to do that too, even backing off an inch to reveal some out-of-mouth contact. They also had to perform the ear nibbling that had been questioned about. It was more humiliating than anything they had been made to do in the past. Having so many onlookers multiplied the awfulness of it. As if at an unspoken signal, Lara and Kay's boyfriends stood and put themselves behind the two who were making out. One of the strapping confident men said, "I'll bet that next, one of them is going to get down on her knees. I wonder which one it will be." The husbands froze. They had a bad idea of what this was leading to. Neither wanted to be the one to sink down in front of the other. Ron began to quiver. Bob bit his lower lip. They were thinking about what might happen to them if they didn't cooperate. Would their wives spank them? In front of everyone? Or might their boyfriends administer the punishment? It might even be something more harsh than a spanking. Feeling unsteady anyway, Bob began an unwanted descent. From all their mutual touching, both had gotten erections. Their immature dicks were standing up, poking out of the openings in their painfully prissy panties. The second boyfriend mused out loud, "It looks like there's a blowjob about to happen. I bet the one on her knees can't wait to get her colorful lips around that itty bitty, poor excuse for a cock." Bob trembled as he opened his mouth. The room grew silent. Ron whimpered. Bob extended his tongue and gave an experimental lick to the underside of Ron's little dickhead. Without thinking about what he was doing, Ron put his hands on the back of Bob's head. He could feel those short tails of hair against his warm moist palms. There was an approving murmur from the audience. With no other choice, Bob closed his lips around the waiting organ. He tried not to cry as he commenced giving Ron a hesitant and unpracticed sucking. The watchers sipped their drinks and leaned forward avidly. It went on for several minutes, which seemed unending to the participants. One of the boyfriends said that he didn't want to see any ejaculating. The other told Bob to lick Ron's balls. Finally Bob was allowed to stop. But that was only so they could switch positions. Suddenly Ron was the one kneeling, with a pinky prick staring him in the face. He sniffled before he began lapping its underside, mouthing the knob, and finally swallowing its unimpressive length. Bob was barely aware of what he was doing as he reached up to toy with his own nipples through the material of his dress. He closed his eyes but his wife hissed at him to keep them opened. He couldn't keep his hips still. And at least one member of every couple in the room had a cell phone or digital camera out and was taking pictures. Again, the oral sex was allowed to continue but not to produce an orgasm. By the end both husbands had been thoroughly stimulated without gaining any relief. That was when there was a knock on the door. Lara's boyfriend answered it and in came two young dudes. When they slipped out of their long leather coats, everyone saw that they wore sleeveless undershirts, one black and one navy blue. One had on worn jeans and the other favored leather pants. Both of them had heavy works shoes. Kay put on music, something with a thumping primitive beat, and the new arrivals began to dance, individually and with each other, working their hips suggestively. They moved toward Ron and Bob and got uncomfortably close to them. The sissies shied away. Ron sank to his knees and they clung to each other, their stiff dicks refusing to soften. The dancers had tear-away crotches on their pants. With one swift movement they uncovered their cocks, which were enviably large. One grabbed Ron's hair and so he could rub his tool in the startled sissy's face. The other got hold of Bob's ears and did the same thing. In no time both of the dancers had whopping big hard-ons. The guy with Ron looked down and ran his tongue over his lips before nodding toward his jutting organ. The frightened sissy understood. Hating what he had to do, he parted his jaws -- wide -- while the dancer slowed his gyrations. Taking careful aim, the standing man eased his shaft past Ron's painted lips. Bob saw that. The guy holding him rose up slightly and then put his heavy balls against Bob's perspiring forehead, an alpha dominating a beta. The submissive male kissed his superior's covered thighs and quickly moved to his bare rampant stalk. It was quite a show, two weak sissies actively giving head to that pair of strong males. The tops made sure their bottoms took their time, and for a good reason. From their thick leather belts they each took a pair of handcuffs, which they used to attach the husband's wrists, each of Ron's to each of Bob's. Next they arranged the dress-wearing victims so they were bent over the hassocks. Those pieces of furniture were yanked backward so that the sissies arms were extended full length and their bottoms were raised to just the right level. Their pretty panties were tugged down until they were around their smooth, pink, hairless thighs. Seeing what was about to take place, the appreciative watchers uttered encouragement to the rough studs and nasty comments to the helpless husbands. "Get those killer cocks busy." "In the out door." "Hey, you pansies will finally get what you've always wanted." Ron and Bill wished they could defend themselves, could deny what was being said about them, but it was hopeless. When they made eye contact with their wives, instead of concern they saw titillated gloating. Some of the onlookers were almost drooling, they found it so exciting. The dominant men had some sort of lube with them, which they rapidly applied to their clenching targets. When the husbands looked at each other it was like viewing a mirror, seeing their own dread and confusion reflected. They tugged futilely at their bonds. "You know," said the stallion behind Ron, "I'm going to make you enjoy this. And that'll make you a real sissy, once and for all. For life." "That's right," agreed the one behind Bob. "If getting poked by us makes you cum, it's definite that you two are pansies. There won't be any turning back. Ever." The aggressors knelt and pressed their rigid tools against the tight entrances, making the husbands whimper loudly. With a push, first one stud and then the other forced his bulging knob inside. They paused to let the bent over men catch their breath and then began feeding inch after thick inch through those virgin rings. There was plenty of wailing, all of it high-pitched and unmanly, as the tops buried themselves up to their heavy balls. Then they began slowly pumping, riding their mounts with practiced ease. "What's the matter?" said one ass Master. "Are you starting to feel how good it is? How much you want it? Is the sissy part of your brain taking over?" "Yeah," said the other. "I can tell by how you're clenching. You WANT me to keep going. You LIKE being filled up by a thick hard cock. You LIKE feeling it move in and out. It's what you were made for. Just like any sissy." The husbands were writhing under their riders, wanting it to stop, but at the same time they couldn't deny what was being said. At some level they were reacting in a positive way. Their penises were solid. They tried to tell themselves that it was only because they had been denied sexual release for weeks. But when their eyes met they could each see their own growing lust... need... desire... matched by the expression facing them. Ron began to thrust back. Bob rocked his hips slightly, trying to encourage his man. They were deeply shamed but couldn't stop themselves. And everyone in the room could tell what was happening. Lara came close to Ron and knelt down, putting her face close to his. She told him, "I always knew you wanted this. With your tiny dick and the way you came too soon. Plus, you look so scrumptious when I dress you up. It's true, Rona. You were born to be a sissy." He shook his head but the hungry look on his face betrayed him. When he checked Bob, the other husband had his eyes half closed in tormented ecstasy, trying to balance his distaste for what was happening with the glorious way it was making him feel. Kay got alongside her spouse and put her lips close to his ear. She said, "Can you hear me over your moaning, Barb? Do you know what a total piece of sissy ass you look like right now? Can you understand how obvious you're making it that this is exactly what you crave? Can you? Are you already thinking about how exciting it will be for you to see all the pictures everyone is taking? Are you hoping I'll post them on some kinky website so the whole world will be able to witness what a complete fag-butt you are?" The steady stream of words made it harder and harder for the husbands to deny how they were responding to all this. The tops' hands were on their bare hips, holding them as their rumps got ridden. Their undersized dicks kept rubbing pleasurably against the footstools over which they were laid. The sense-memories of having to hold and kiss each other were replaying themselves in their minds. The power of suggestion was taking over their thoughts. The two of them kept thinking that if they could just keep from finishing, that would prove that they weren't actually what the men using them said, what their own wives insisted they secretly wanted to be. The tops were pros. They enjoyed a long unhurried ride. Only at the end did they pick up the pace, driving themselves over the edge and shooting their rich salty loads up those formerly cherry asses. The husbands cried out and their own hips jerked. A buzz of comments filled the air. Ron and Bob's pleasure had peaked and then began to fade. The disgraceful reality of what had occurred stabbed at them. "See?" Lara said smugly. "Sissy is as sissy does." "The same over here," Kay seconded. "A pansy wants what a pansy wants." The two studs pulled out in slow motion and stood up to raucous applause. The sissy husbands stayed where they were, cuffed together, their well-used butts on display, and tried to staunch their tears. They managed to stop the flow but couldn't stop sniffling, like a couple of prim brides who had gotten more than they anticipated on their wedding night. Their wives reinforced the idea that they were now irreversibly turned to the sissy side. They said it over and over, in different ways, but always with the same conclusions. It didn't help the husbands when their brides were joined by the men who took them to bed, the ones who had taken over for the inadequate grooms. "Let's go," said Lara. "Time to stand up, girls." "We have to see..." Kay reminded them. "You know. If you made your little squirts." The bent-over men struggled to regain their feet, dealing as best they could with the cuffs that joined them. As soon as they had raised themselves off the hassocks, their wives announced that they really had cum. Ron and Bob stood there, blushing bright pink. They had to kneel at each other's spot -- more awkwardness with those cuffs -- and lick up the messes they had left, while everyone chuckled and made still more cutting comments. The sissies, with their crotches and mouths and butts smelling of ejaculate, were told it was time for bed. Lara said, "For us real girls and our real men, that means we're taking the main bedroom and the guestroom. After watching that show you two put on, we're all heated up and ready for some long, drawn out sex." "Correct," Kay seconded. "Our hunks are going to do for us what you useless sissy husbands never could. But don't worry, we have a place for you to sleep. Together. Like a couple of sissy sisters. Which is what you are." Once more the pantied pair had to rise from their knees. They were led, heads hung and lips pouting, to a small storage room where a pink bed with a girly bedspread, and pillows with cute covers, waited for them. In their disheveled state, lipstick smeared, eye make-up damaged by tears, panties not quite all the way back up, they got in and were covered. With their hands still cuffed, they had to lie facing each other, unable even to turn away and stop being reminded of what they had just endured and how far reaching its consequences would be. Once they were alone, the two of them lay there silently for several minutes. They couldn't stop thinking about what they're wives would be doing for the next hour or so. And the fact that all the guests understood what the temporary absence of their hosts meant. At last Ron whispered, his voice strained by disgrace, "I can't believe our wives put us through that." "I know," Bob agreed. "It was the most terrible thing I could have imagined." "But we both... came. I mean, maybe it was just from having our prostates stimulated but..." "... but we did, kind of, get off on it." "So I guess it's true what Lara and Kay kept saying. That we really are..." "...are sissies. And that we... we'll always..." "... always be sissies." They reached out at the same time and hugged each other close, as much as they could while in cuffs. Their lips met and they reenacted the kisses they had been made to exchange earlier, despite the taste of their own sperm on their tongues. Then their shame reasserted itself and they separated. What were they to do? They hated being so girly and having intimate contact with each other, and especially with those brutish men. But Ron and Bob -- or should we say Rona and Barb? -- had been convinced that it was their true nature to dress and act so girlishly. Their wives had converted them and would keep them ensnared in their silken web from that day forth. THE END (I hope this fevered tale will inspire new readers to check out my older works. Your comments on those or anything I produce in the future are always welcome.)