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SISSY SISTERS SCHOOLING by Throne "You know, sissy husbands aren't born... they're made. You have to teach them to be what you want." Tanya looked at her friend for a reaction. "I suppose you're right," Chelsea said with a thoughtful nod. "Though it helps if they're weak-willed to begin with." "For sure. I mean, our wimpy husbands are perfect examples. They were just waiting to be turned into pansy boys. But it wouldn't have happened without us. They needed to be taught." "It sure worked well." Chelsea smiled. "I mean, here we are enjoying a night out while they stay home and clean your house." "And next time they'll clean yours. We've got them so well trained that they don't dare to skip any of the jobs we put on their list. Or even slack off while no one is there to watch them." Both women chuckled at that. Their husbands were truly whipped. But, being natural Dominants, they both had the same thought. It was Chelsea who voiced it. "So where do we go from here? We have them acting like silly girls all the time." "And looking like they can't make up their minds about what gender they are. Maybe the next thing we should do is..." "I know," her friend said with sudden inspiration. "Why don't make them be... girlfriends." "You mean like having them talk about make-up? Or watch chick flicks? Or..." She suddenly understood. "You mean make them be girlfriends... physically." They grinned at each other. "Starting tonight, as soon as we get home." "Agreed. But let's not rush it. I want them to have lots of chances to fight it, to imagine that they can prevent it from happening, but in the end..." "We will win. They will be turned into total sissy sisters." "Incestuous sissy sisters." They decided to head straight back to the house, where they found their spouses close to finishing all the tasks they had been assigned. The men certainly were dressed for their roles as sissies. Sandy (formerly Sammy) and Jan (previously John) wore lace vests that each had a single string-tie to hold them closed at the neck, leaving their hairless chests mostly exposed. They had on brief panties, Sandy's lilac and Jan's lavender. Their legs were covered by elastic-top stockings which matched their panties. On their feet were cute sandals with lots of fake jewels studding them. Both husbands were short, with soft bodies and longish hair. Their tight panties showed off the fact that they possessed tiny genitals. It was especially funny to their wives when the guys got erections, because those were so small. They didn't get to cum very often, so they got hard at the slightest stimulation. As they had been trained to do, the pair curtsied to their brides, who were taller than them. The women had voluptuous figures and showed them off with tops and slacks made of stretchy material that hugged their zaftig curves. They favored exotic shoes and, again because they rarely got any sexual relief, the husbands had gotten somewhat addicted to that footwear. Each female went to her spouse and gave him an air kiss. It was a potent reminded to the sissies that they were severely restricted when it came to contact with their ladies. Tanya and Chelsea fussed with the vests, making sure to brush their fingers 'innocently' over the oh-so-accessible nipples under them. The guys shuddered with need and were embarrassed to feel there little dicks rising. The turgid members pressed outward against the fronts of the panties. Sandy and Jan looked at each other with distressed expressions. It was impossible for them to accept their new identities. "So," Tanya wanted to know. "Did you girls have a nice evening? Did you do a good job? Or will we have to spank you?" Chelsea looked around her with a critical eye, searching for any excuse to make them lower their panties and be punished. She focused on the sofa, whose cover had been removed, taken out back, and shaken. It was so uncomfortable for the husbands to have to step outdoors to do that job. Even though there was a high fence around the yard, they still felt as if curious eyes were watching them. But when the slipcover had been replaced on the sofa, it wasn't precisely straight. "Look at that," Chelsea said with audible disappointment. "It is totally unacceptable. Someone will have to pay for that." "They both will. And since I'm sure they worked together when they put it on crooked, I think they should be disciplined the same way... together." Tanya caught the hidden meaning in that last word. It would be step one in reeducating these sissy sisters to be more than just companions. The wives had their husbands slip their colorful panties down to mid-thighs but then, to the guys surprise, something new was added to the game. For the first time ever, the males had to stand face-to-face and wrap each wrap their arms around the other's shoulders. Next they were made to poke out their pink-white bottoms. Chelsea ordered them to stay that way while their brides went and selected spanking implements. Tanya said she wanted to use something especially effective. Maybe make a sort of contest of it. Chelsea caught the hint and announced that she too would seek the perfect tool to use on the vulnerable bottom that would be her target. The husbands sensed that something special was going on but couldn't figure out what it was. Their wives left the room but didn't go far. They stayed within earshot and listened to hear what got said. Sandy whispered, "I don't like this. They sound really eager to go after our sitters." Jan wanted to know, "What was that about making it a contest? I don't like the way this is going." As they stood there in their involuntary embrace, their erections refused to go away. Neither of them mentioned it, both being uncomfortable with the physical reaction. Surely it couldn't be because they were touching each other? They obediently remained where they were, occasionally exchanging more concerns in hushed voices. The wives at last moved away and hurried to pick what they would use from among the many options they had accumulated. When they returned, Tanya was holding a flat length of rubber with metal studs on its surface. Chelsea gripped a sorority paddle that was smaller than those used by college girls. The studs on the rubber and the compact size of the paddle assured that they would be extra effective. They swished them experimentally through the air, heightening the guys' fear. "So here's what we decided," Chelsea began. "We're each going to smack the other one's sissy. Whichever of us makes her victim break down the fastest and howl the most wins. And then she gets to decide what your REAL punishments will be." The harsh spankings they expected were only a prelude to something else? Something worse? Or just as bad in a different way? The quivering men hugged each other tighter. Not because they wanted to, but from worry. The females took up positions behind them. The guys were used to being spanked by their own spouses but this change of partners was somehow worse, more insulting, extra perverse. The wives patted the very available bottoms with their instruments, prolonging the fearful anticipation. Then they started, taking turns, in no hurry. Because of the slow pace, the pain went on and on, gradually mounting. The guys squirmed in each other's arms, whimpered into each other's ears, and pressed their fingertips into each other's soft flesh. Eventually both of them surrendered to the burn and started to howl. Their noses ran and their cheeks were suffused with color. When the punishment finally ended they caught their breath and calmed themselves down until they were only sobbing softly, still clinging together. Their wives inspected the beaten rumps, first checking the one each of them had attacked herself, then looking at the other's work, and finally examining each as a team. Their conclusion was that they had done a fine job of coloring those smooth hemispheres and that they had produced the maximum of discomfort. But suddenly, to the men's surprise, their tormentors expressed sympathy. "We might have overdone it a bit," Tanya said with concern. "I'm afraid so," Chelsea agreed. "We should do something to take the sting out of those sore bottoms." For a few moments they just stood there, savoring the sounds of sniffling. Finally Tanya decided, "We should get something onto that sore skin to sooth it. I have some cream in the bathroom. You stay with them and make sure they're okay." No one told the guys to let go of each other so, accustomed as they were to not making decisions on their own, they just stayed their in that curious embrace, red sitters exposed. Tanya returned with a large tube of cream. She announced, "This will make both of you feel better... after you put it on each other's backsides." Their eyes went wide. Sandy and Jan looked at each other, mouths hanging open. They were at last given permission to stand up straight. Tanya held out the tube and moved her arm slowly side to side, not offering it to either one of them yet. She gauged who was most uncomfortable with the idea of what they had to do, decided it was Jan, and therefore gave the cream to Sandy. Jan would have to think longer about what was to come. Besides, as much as he didn't want to touch Sandy, he didn't want Sandy touching him, either. So Sandy accepted the tube, opened it, and put a dollop on the palm of his hand. His wife suggested that he take a larger amount, which he did. Jan had to bend forward -- again -- with his butt shoved out -- again -- and wait for the inevitable. The other sissy reluctantly stepped nearer and put his hand on that well-smacked rear end. With his wife giving instructions he soon had both hands on those beaten buttocks and was rubbing the cream in with gentle circular movements. They kept him at it for several minutes and then made the pair switch positions. It was Sandy's turn to bend down and Jan's to apply the cooling cream. After that they had to exchange spots several more times, with the women voicing concerns that the job be done properly and thoroughly. The blushing sissies had to kneel behind each other during the last round, smearing on more of the white stuff, even lavishing attention on the space between the buttocks, where no blows had landed. "Now," Tanya declared when it was over, "you two need some quite time to think about your behavior. So how about if we take you to the lilac room and you can spend an hour or two doing that." The husbands nodded meekly. They had to take off their panties ("Don't want you to get cream on them.") and go to the special room, which was for occasions like this. Except that this time, when they arrived, there was a change. Instead of just having to stand in the corner, or sit on one of the low stools designated as 'naughty girl seats', they were made to lay on the bed, atop the pale purple bedspread, side by side. Chelsea considered them and said, "No, that's not quite right. Sandy, you swing around so you're facing the other way. That's better." The husbands didn't think it was better because, after the repositioning, they were laying with their faces almost in each other's crotches. It was shameful. Worse, Tanya left the room and reappeared with several rolls of duct tape. It was the new type, decorated with colorful designs. There were yellow with ducks on it, pink with puckered red beak-lips, the background lavender dotted with bright flowers. The women got busy, binding the men to each other with long strips. They attached wrists to ankles and elbows to knees, bending limbs as necessary, creating poses that were a bit awkward and undeniably comical. They were careful, however, to keep those faces opposite crotches. The finish was then they wrapped long strips around their middles and the backs of their heads, so that their mouths were directly in front of each others genitals, with almost no space between them. The wives had been careful not to cover their men's bottoms. With the guys on their sides, the ladies left the room and came back with less threatening spanking tools, a wooden ruler and a hairbrush. But when they began to take turns swatting, the sissies found that each blow made its recipient jerk his head forward without meaning to, so that there were repeated meetings of mouths and dicks. That was bad enough but the touching quickly led to the reoccurrence of unbidden and unwanted erections. To add to their distress, every time one of them yelped, opening his mouth, the other one's dick tended to slip between his lips. With all the tape the women had used, it wasn't even possible to turn their heads aside. After twenty swats to each posterior, both dicks were leaking pre-cum. The husbands were impossibly horny. "Really?" Tanya said in disgust. "Stiff winkies?" "We punish them and they commit more naughtiness," Chelsea fumed. "What nasty sissies." "Still, we should give them a chance to redeem themselves. How about if we leave the room for ten minutes and give them time to get rid of those terrible hard-ons?" "Sounds fair. In fact, more than fair. Sometimes I think we spoil them by being too kind. But okay." She leaned close to the sissy husbands. "You heard her. Ten minutes to get rid of those rigid shrimp dicks." The women left in high dudgeon, though once they were out of the room they had to cover their mouths with their hands to keep from laughing out loud. "We are such good actresses," Tanya whispered. "They really think we're mad at them and that they have to soften their little pricks." "Hilarious. But let's get to the TV so we can see the show." They turned on the set and tuned into the remote cameras that were hidden in the lilac room. They had a perfect view of their mates. Two views, in fact, because there was a camera on each side. There was also a microphone and, as they turned up the sound they heard the frightened captives whispering to each other, still using their required girly voices. "What are we going to do?" Sandy asked worriedly. "If they come back and find us still all... you know... worked up..." "I don't know," Jan sniffled. "The only way we could stop being hard would be if we... I mean..." Sandy said, shame audible in her soft voice, "But we've never done that. We're straight. We just like to dress up." "But they'll be so angry if they come back and we're still stiff. I wish I could get soft but..." He whimpered girlishly. "...I just can't." "Same here. So our only choice is... to... do it... to each other." Their wives watched and snickered as the two sissy spouses opened their mouths and closed them on the waiting small cocks. They sucked and licked, moaning piteously as they did. But then their reflexes took over and they started to jerk their hips, breath hissing in and out of their nostrils. Around his friend's little dick, Sandy said he was sorry. With his mouth full too -- or at least half full -- those penises were short and slender -- Jan managed to convey that it would be over soon. But he was wrong. Their nervousness worked against their bodies' urges, and it wasn't easy for either of them to finish the other. There was lots of pre-cum, which they could taste, but that was all. The ten minute deadline had almost arrived when they finally began to gasp (without freeing what was between their lips) and at last spurted onto each other's tongues. It was repulsive but even if they didn't like doing it, they certainly enjoyed having it done to them. And would crave more of the same. Tanya turned to her friend and observed, "Looks like we're married to a couple of cocksuckers." Chelsea nodded and said, "And I think they're already hooked on how good it feels to get sucked off. So we'll just have to give them lots of opportunities to repeat the scene we just watched." "Until they become real lovers. We'll have to make them lick and suck those baby scrotums. And kiss and lick their asses." "But they'll always have to start with plenty of foreplay. Kissing and hugging and touching. Licking nipples, nibbling ears, and biting necks." "Oh, and after they finish and their mouths are full of the white stuff, they should always kiss each other." "Of course they should. Because they're going to be lovers." Both wives laughed at the predicament into which they had maneuvered the sissy sisters. Their schooling would continue for years to come. And right then they decided to go back into the bedroom and get started with the next lesson. ****** Fran and Delia arrived at the front door of the plain looking midtown building. They buzzed, identified themselves, and were admitted. At the end of a short hall they entered the reception room. Moments later the inner door opened and a tall, good-looking young man, casually dressed, entered. He said, "Hi, I'm Jim. Bob is the one handling your husbands' lessons but he's not on duty right now. So excuse me if I'm not completely familiar with their status." He consulted the electronic pad he was carrying and said, "They're Suzie and Bea, and they've been here for a week. While you two took a little vacation? Is that correct? Yes? Well, let's sit and chat for a few minutes before you see them and get a progress report." They sat and Fran said, "I guess we're feeling a little guilty about leaving them alone with... strangers." "Yes," agreed Delia. "Because they've become kind of dependent on us ever since..." Jim offered helpfully, "Ever since you discovered their proclivities? About how they like to dress in feminine things?" "Well, yes," Fran admitted. "Finding that out led to us sort of, well, making them over." Delia added, "Getting them more in touch with their... sissy selves." Jim held up a hand and said understandingly, "I know. We see cases like this all the time. That's why we're here. To make your lives easier. And to make theirs more appropriate for who they really are... inside." "It's so nice to hear you say that," Fran told him. "We've had concerns because the way they are, it forced us to have to make some changes. It was necessary to restrict their sex lives." "And," Delia went on, "they made it a must for us to punish them. Sometimes they could be so difficult." Jim nodded knowingly. "Let me guess. You started giving them what they wanted and suddenly they decided you were going too far. Too fast." "Exactly" Delia said. I mean, we would get them all dressed up in sweet panties and the most adorable baby doll nighties. Of course we couldn't have sex with them, the way they looked. You know, with a little make- up on and bows in their hair. But we still had our needs. So we had to teach them to satisfy us in other ways." "With their mouths," Fran clarified. "And they didn't seem to like that. Or to appreciate that we got into the spirit of things, got horny, and wanted them to do it all the time." "Which is what led to the spankings. And bondage. And more." "Honestly," Jim assured them, "we've seen the same scenario over and over. That's why your husbands have been with two of our best representatives, Carl and Hans. A couple of great guys. Very understanding. Now that we've gotten everything out on the table, how about if we go and see..." He glanced at the pad's screen. "...Suzie and Bea." They all rose and moved on through an inner door, where they were greeted by a pair of strapping men in T-shirts and gym shorts, smiling guys with short hair and clean-shaven faces. There were introductions and then Carl spoke, telling the wives, "Your boys have been a handful, I have to tell you. We've had to take some rather extreme measures, but it will have been worth it, to help them learn. I'm sure you'll be happy with the results." Hans finished the thought with, "And they're right on the other side of that partition. Resting." Jim excused himself and the other four stepped past the obstructing barrier. Beyond it there was a bed and on the bed, two figures. Suzie and Bea were naked except for stockings and matching opera-length gloves. Their faces were only lightly touched by cosmetics. Just a hint of eye shadow and a single coat of lip gloss, although the latter did have some pink in it. What was especially attention-getting was the state the men were in. They had been bound by quite a lot of electrical tape. Suzie's gloves and stockings were black and he was wrapped in silver tape, his legs pulled up and caught in a fully bent posture under him, his arms crossed over his chest and circled with plenty of tape to keep them that way. His chin rested on the top sheet. There was tape across his mouth, holding a hard rubber ball behind his lips. The ball was hollow, with openings on two sides, holes punched in their covering, through which he could breath. His lips were stretched wide enough that the tape missed them and their pink glossiness wasn't wasted. Bea's stockings and gloves were white and he was bound with black tape. His arms were behind him, wound in enough tape to hold them close to each other. He was on his belly and his legs were bent upward, taped securely together, his ankles and wrists connected by a short length of strong rubber that offered very little give. His mouth was not covered but there was a small device that looked like an old fashioned washing machine's wringer, on his tongue, which kept the organ protruding from his mouth. When they saw their wives, both men began to attempt communication. They made distressed sounds and their eyes conveyed desperation. The wives went to them and took their faces between their hands. "Darling," Fran said. "I hear you're doing really well." "Angel," Delia told her spouse, "I'm so happy for you. It's great that you're getting so much help." Instead of relaxing them, the words seemed to make the sissy husbands even more excited and troubled. Their wives stroked their hair and whispered words of endearment. After a few minutes of that, during which the men's upset continued to mount, the women finally backed away. "Gee," Fran told the handlers. "They're acting kind of shaken up." Hans reassured her, "I'm sure it's just because they're happy to see you." Delia observed, "And their bottoms look like they've been spanked... a lot." Carl pointed out, "Without the discipline they weren't moving forward. Believe me when I tell you that we didn't want to do it to them." "I'm certain of that. It's not easy for us wives, either, when we have to give them a good rump smacking." "My Suzie has something wet between her bottom cheeks. And Bea has the same stuff around her lips and on her chin." "Yes," Hans said smoothly. "That's from the high protein diet we've put them on. Carl and I have been doing some of their feedings. Orally and via anal injection. They need a lot of that fluid so some of the other attendants have stepped in and helped us. A lot of the others." "That's good to hear," said Fran. "We wouldn't want our hubbies to become malnourished." "No chance of that. They've been getting fed around the clock." "Is there enough going on around here to keep their minds occupied?" Carl smiled. "That's where our occupational therapy comes in. You see, this facility is associated with the entertainment site next door. Maybe you noticed it before you came in?" "You mean The Leather Feather?" "That's it. Quite a good environment for acting out, particularly with subjects like you bought us, who have a lot of issues to work through. For instance, your husbands had the delusion that, even though they secretly enjoyed dressing up, it would be somehow wrong for others to see them. Even others who would appreciate they way they looked. So we helped them with that by having them work as servers at the Feather. It opens at eight in the evening and doesn't close until about eight in the morning, so they had plenty of time to work out those issues. In fact, what they're wearing now... minus the tape of course..." Everyone got a laugh from that. "... is their uniforms." Hans contributed with, "It also helped them get over their irrational fear of being touched by men, sitting on their laps, accompanying them into the restroom, and so much more. We find that it's an exciting and rewarding form of therapy." Hearing those experiences being described, the husbands resumed the distorted, unintelligible sounds they had been making, along with those frantic expressions. Their wives chuckled and Fran said, "I can see that they're still doing some role playing." "Quite a bit," Delia noted. "I suppose they're not done dealing with some of those areas you mentioned." "Exactly," Hans said, suddenly quite serious. "And that's what we wanted to discuss with you ladies. You spouses have made terrific strides. No questions about it. If you could have seen some of things that they did at The Feather these past nights, you would be stunned. But our concern is that, if we end their sessions now, it might all be ruined. Their progress might be lost and even regained. So what we'd like to suggest is..." He took a breath. "... another three weeks in residence here. The full program. Even some work with specialists who we can provide. I know it sounds like a lot, but I'm sure you'll agree in the end that it'll all have been worth it." The women glanced at each other and smiled. They turned back to Hans and Carl. Fran said, "As much as we'll miss them at home, we want to do what's best for our guys. So we're saying yes to another three weeks of treatments. Intense treatments." Delia looked sympathetically at the pair on the bed. She said, "We won't be totally alone, though. There's a work crew coming to my place and they'll be fun to have around. All those muscular sweaty men will make me feel protected. Not to mention, we made some new friends while we were on vacation and, just our luck, a couple of very sweet fellows live right here in the city. They said they'd be glad to stop by and check on us, after we explained about our husbands and how they might be... tied up... for quite a while." "Then it's all settled," Hans said with a grin. "We'll give your sissy husbands plenty of tender loving care." "Plenty," seconded Carl. "As much as they can take." Once again the bound males set up their stifled noisemaking. "Listen to them," Fran said happily. "They sure appreciate everything that's being done for them." "Don't worry about the expense," Delia said to the husbands. "Those papers we had you sign before you got here give us total access to all your assets. In fact, we're arranging it so you won't have to worry about finances at all, after you put your names on a few more documents and everything becomes ours. Completely." "Which reminds me," Hans said. "While they were working in the club, the boys earned quite a lot in tips. It sounds like, with your new financial arrangement, the money is legally yours." "Not to worry," Fran told him. "I'm sure Delia would agree that we want you two to keep that money. Let's say it's OUR tip to YOU." "For taking such good care of these two. And as payment in advance for any special treatments you might have to give them. Extra feedings. Whatever." "Thanks so much. When we get done with them they'll be fully in touch with their feelings about other men. Ones who are more manly than themselves." "Oh," Fran said. "One more thing before we leave. Could you encourage them to relate better to each other? To relate... intimately. It would really please us if, after we take them home, we were able to watch them getting in touch with each other. Frequently. Sharing with each other, bonding in ways they never have before." "We can do that, though it might take us past the one month mark. You can stop by for progress reports and demonstrations. We'll decide how much more schooling they need as we go along." "Perfect. We'll give you some time to get them started on the next stage of their discoveries about themselves. Then we'll be in touch so we can hear all the details. And see what they've learned. Especially about interacting with each other." The wives went to their bound and helpless husbands to gently pat them on the heads while the two on the bed jerked at their unbreakable bonds and struggled to dislodge the devices that robbed them of speech. Fran and Delia leaned close, told them to take care and enjoy every minute of their stay, and then strolled out the door, happy to know how much they had accomplished for their beloved husbands, and how much more would be achieved by this wonderful place and its dedicated staff.