Anson's Married Life free porn video

ANSON'S MARRIED LIFE by Throne After he graduated from school, Anson was grateful to be away from those mean girls who had delighted in tormenting him daily. His relief was short-lived, however. When he got a small job in the office of a local company, it turned out that two of those mean females had also been hired. They were both his superiors and could give him orders, so they made sure he did the least desirable work. They also made sure he looked bad to the supervisors, and soon he was in danger of being fired. That was when they made the suggestion that he be demoted to janitor. The next day he was presented with his new work clothes, a set of white overalls that had been dyed pink. The girls also insisted on braiding his hair ('to keep it from getting in your face') and even putting bows on the ends. He was humiliated and, to make matters even worse, all the other young women who worked there joined in with their own taunts and nasty comments. He was called by the name he had been given in school, Annie, and made to walk and talk like a girl. Under his shameful overalls he had to wear panties and training bras. They made him apply lip gloss, like he had been made to do before, and touch it up several times a day. He was a laughingstock with no hope of improving his situation. The department head, Ms. Richards, assured him that if he quit, she would give him a bad recommendation and prevent him from getting hired anywhere else. That went on for a year, with him having to clean the women's lavatories daily. The girls would follow him in and make him put discarded tampons down the front of his panties. Then one of his former classmates remembered the idea they'd had, to marry him off to one of them so that he could be dominated at home every night. They checked with everyone who still lived in the area and found the perfect candidate. It was Brianna, who had transferred in during Anson's last year. She had joined their cruel games enthusiastically, being especially inventive. It was her who had made him wear plastic mini-shorts, with several pairs of used panties crammed down the front of them, so that it appeared that he had a manly bulge. He was told the he now had a date with her on Friday night, so that she could decide if he was worth marrying. He spent the rest of the week dreading that event. When the time came, one of the other girl's picked him up and drove him from his modest apartment to Brianna's house, which she had made a down payment on with a small inheritance she received. He was shoved out of the car and walked to the front door on unsteady legs. It felt like his knees would buckle. He had on his usual panties and training bra, along with a colorful belly shirt and tiny pleated skirt, knee socks and saddle shoes. He knocked timidly on the door and a female voice bellowed for him to come in. Brianna was in the living room, lounging on the sofa. She was tall and full figured, wearing only a short belted robe, her long auburn hair up in curlers. He gaped at her impressive cleavage and plump legs, his undersized penis tingling. "Hey," she snapped at him. "I'm trying to watch my show. Stand over there, at the end of the coffee table. In fact, bend over and put your hands on it AND KEEP THEM THERE." His heart raced with fear. He bent obediently and placed his hands on the table's surface. It was an awkward position and his long hair hung down. He turned his eyes up to look at her and couldn't help but be aroused. True, she was more sexy than pretty, and sexy in an overblown and tawdry way. Her nose was a bit fleshy and her lips were naturally puckered. But he had no female contact and, back in school, had become somehow attracted to girls like her, who were bigger than him and naturally commanding. After another hour of TV she finally returned her attention to him. Brianna sneered at his ridiculous appearance. She got up and told him to straighten. He did and she laughed out loud. She took a piece of paper and wrote on it with a thick marker, DOPE. Telling him to open his mouth, she put the end of the sheet between his teeth and told him to shut his mouth. He stood there in his feminine garb with the note hanging from his lips, feeling like what he had been labelled as. She stood directly in front of him and used the marker to draw dark arched eyebrows over his light straight ones. "All right," she said with disdain. "I'm supposed to see if it's worth bothering to marry you. I don't know what a shrimp like you would be good for." She grabbed his crotch and gave a squeeze. "Certainly not sex. At least, not the regular kind. I remember how your baby dick used to bob up and down when we made you take gym class with no pants on. Just an itty bitty cheerleader skirt. Ha! Well, for starters, you can clean up around here. Begin in the bathroom, Annie. Maybe if you do a good job I'll have something for you to clean in the bedroom." She chuckled at the way that made him shudder. Anson headed for the bathroom, remembering to wiggle his narrow hips as he walked. Under the sink he found cleaning supplies, which looked like they hadn't been used in a long time. He began wiping and scrubbing every surface, desperate to do a good job so he wouldn't be punished, but also wanting to fail so she wouldn't wed him. The thought of being married to such a harsh woman, who enjoyed mistreating him, was unthinkable. But he was too weak-willed to refuse and he knew it. As he scrubbed out the toilet his brief skirt rode up in the back, exposing his panty-clad bottom. He wanted to run away. He wanted to buy some male clothing. He wanted to get his hair cut shorter. But none of those actions were for him to choose now. After more than an hour, Brianna appeared at the bathroom door. Anson cowered and looked up at her. She grinned at him and crooked a pudgy forefinger. When he started to rise she told him he could crawl. He wordlessly followed her, unable to take his eyes off her fat bottom, where it peeked out from under that short robe. Anson whimpered softly to himself. Once they were in the bedroom she made him stand to get out of his skirt and top. Brianna put her fingers under his juvenile bra and toyed with his sensitive nipples. He squirmed and his little penis got hard, sticking out against the front of his full-cut, cotton panties, which were covered with pictures of cartoon zebras, monkeys, and pink elephants. She had him reach inside his panties and manipulate himself while she made hurtful comments about how small his 'goods' were. He was close to tears and yet, at the same time, wildly aroused. The big girl flopped back onto the bed. She untied her robe and let the halves fall away to either side. Anson ogled her heavy breasts, wide hips, and full thighs. Brianna pointed to her hairy bush and told him, "Your lips on my pussy. Kiss it." He got into position reluctantly, yet his entire body tingled with need. As his face got close to its target he inhaled her strong female musk. Out came his tongue and he licked tentatively, making her take a deep breath. Then he flicked her clitoris, lapped her nether lips, and penetrated her deeply enough that his lips were mashed against her mound. Anson felt disgraced but his body craved more of this submissive contact. He gripped the sides of her wide hips and ate her hungrily, feeling how wet she was getting. Brianna rocked her pelvis, grabbed the back of his head and, after fifteen minutes, had an explosive orgasm. Anson, hornier than ever, was allowed to get off the bed and crouch at the foot. She said sleepily that he could stay there for the night and that he was NOT to wash his face or rinse his mouth or do anything else to clean off her pungent fluids or remove her distinctive taste. "Oh, yeah," she added as she drifted towards sleep. "I guess we can do that marriage thing. It'll be handy to have you around." Anson huddled there on the carpet, his mind awhirl with thoughts about the new life he was entering. Every breath he took was filled with her aroma. He wept softly but, at some other level, didn't fully regret what was happening. At least this way he would be close to an overly sexy woman. Her body might be denied to him in a traditional way but, as the girls in school had reminded him so many times, there was no way any female would want him for intercourse, not with his miniscule dick and scrawny body. The next morning, when he was told to get up on his knees and lay his upper body over the foot of the bed, Brianna got out her cell phone. She instructed him to lick and suck her unwashed feet while she made some calls. First she hit the pre-set number for Callie, one of the girls who had set this plan in motion, and announced that she would be getting hitched to 'Anson the asshole'. Then she made another call and began chatting with someone she addressed as Max. She got flirty with him while Anson had his tongue between her toes. She become lewd while her soon-to-be husband had her big toes -- both at once -- filling his mouth. She told Max she would see him soon and then, as soon as she closed the phone, gave Anson another command. "Damn," she said. "Talking to that bastard always gets me heated up. Get back on the bed and give my snatch some more licking, pussy-face. I don't want to come again tonight, so I'll show you how you can keep making me feel good without putting me over the top." He learned, all too soon, that the way to prolong her pleasure without making her climax was for Brianna to roll onto her soft round tummy so he had access to her ass. Anson had to bury his face between her plush butt cheeks and burrow all the way down until he could find her rosebud with the end of his tongue. She took pleasure in telling him that he was expected to lick up and down, rim her, and finally probe deep inside. True to her words, he was able to keep her simmering without making her boil over. In fact, she kept him back there, half smothered in that warm moist cleft, for forty minutes. By the end he was sobbing quietly and feeling like he was on a one way trip to some strange doom. The wedding took place very soon afterwards. A few days beforehand they went to City Hall and took care of all the legal details. Callie went along as the witness and kept up a constant barrage of tormenting words to assure that Anson would remain demoralized and not make the slightest objection. He was wearing sissy clothing: colorful rainbow-striped shirt with puffy sleeves, tight white slacks that crushed his little balls and showed off his bottom, yellow socks and fruity pink shoes with pointed toes. The clerk, a hard-faced woman, looked at him with open contempt, though she had an approving smirk for his new wife. But it was the ceremony later on that affected him the most. Instead of a church, they went to a kinky sex club in a raunchy part of the city, among the porn shops, strip clubs, and hooker hotspots. Anson was dressed in white, except that instead of a bridal gown he had on a lacy see-through top and a matching miniskirt. He even had white shoes with two inch heels on his small feet. When they got there, before they entered, dozens of people outside got a good look at him. There were hoots and catcalls that made him blush. Brianna was dressed in black and red leather, a vest that was held partway closed by metal fasteners, and a skirt that clung and called attention to her hefty rump, along with boots with tall stacked heels, and fishnet stockings. She towered over Anson. When they got inside there were plenty of the girls from school and the office waiting. Ms. Rock, his former gym teacher, was in attendance, accompanied by a little blond beauty who clung to her arm. Waiting at the front of the room was a guy who had been dressed even more like a sissy than Anson, in revealing lingerie, with a gag in his mouth. On the other side of the low stage was a tall Black man in dark jeans and one of those T-shirts that looks like the top half of a tuxedo. He was muscular and had a shaved head. Between them stood an imposing woman in full Goth regalia. Brianna went straight up the makeshift aisle between the tables and took a spot in front of the gorgeous (but frightening to Anson) Goth goddess. Then a strikingly handsome man in a business suit, carrying a paddle, put his arm through Anson's and walked him up the same path while a synthesizer version of The Wedding March played over the loudspeaker system. Quivering uncontrollably, Anson was walked to the low stage and got onto it with difficulty, ending up alongside his bride, except that she looked more like the groom and he had been given the female role. The man who had escorted Anson gave his bum three hard swats with the paddle before he left him. Anson bit his lips as the Goth began speaking. "Dearly perverted, we are gathered here in front of a bunch of freaks to join this real woman to this pitiful excuse for a man. He is an imbecile, weakling, and looks like a total wussy. He's worthless. But she's going to be nice enough to accept him." There were murmurs of agreement from the audience. Anson sniffled audibly. He wished he could be more covered up. The Goth looked at the gagged sissy and said, "We have our Maid of Honor, who will be available later in the unisex restroom for all sorts of fun. And this big hunk to my left is The Best Man. Obviously." The powerful Black stud stepped up to Brianna and, to Anson's shocked dismay, gave her a hard, open-mouthed kiss, to which she responded with passion. His big hands slid up and down her curvy body. When their lips parted she gazed avidly at him and said his name in a voice thick with yearning -- 'Max'. Oh no, Anson thought. He was the one she had been getting personal with on the phone while Anson had been slurping on her feet. The Goth officiator carried on her twisted version of a wedding ceremony. She had Brianna vow to use, abuse and generally mistreat 'Annie'. Then she turned to Anson and asked, "Do you, Annie, you pathetic pansy, promise to love, honor and obey Brianna? And to be her house sissy and do all the chores and prance around and get laughed at?" Despite knowing that he was losing his last chance to back out, the cowardly little man whispered, "I do." The Goth turned to Max and asked for the ring. He handed it to her. Anson was stunned to see that it was a large brass one, which his new spouse opened, fitted into his nose, and snapped shut. There was a stab of pain in his nostrils and he shed a few tears. Then he was told he could kiss the bride. Anson faced Brianna and went up on his toes, somehow imagining that he would actually be permitted to press his lips to hers. Instead, Max barked at him that all he was going to kiss was her ass. The big man's hands pressed down on Anson's weak shoulders and pushed him to his knees. He had to struggle to cram his head under his wife's leather skirt. With mocking calls from the onlookers ringing in his ears, he smooched her ass over and over. When he was allowed to free himself, his face flushed and sheened in sweat, he saw that Brianna was happily kissing Max again, with one hand on the well-filled crotch of his jeans. There was a reception afterwards, right there in the club. The bride and best man danced together. The sissy maid of honor was marched off to the restroom. The man in the suit handed his paddle to the Goth, who used it on the maid's backside as she followed him. Everyone who came to their table to congratulate the happy couple spoke to Brianna and Max, while Anson was hunched down out of sight, at her feet. She slipped off her shoes and he got to kiss her soles through the fishnets. He could see that she had freed Max's cock, which was enormous, and was unhurriedly stroking it. At last the nightmarish gathering ended and Brianna and Max, with Anson trailing along behind, went out the back to where his car was parked. The unhappy groom had to climb into the trunk for the drive to his wife's house. When they got there, she grabbed his nose ring and tugged it to make him get out. Yelping and blubbering, he went inside with them. The trio moved to the bedroom, where Brianna declared that it was time to consummate the marriage. Anson couldn't believe his ears. Had he been mistaken? Was he really going to be allowed to go to bed with his oh-so- desirable wife? She told him there was a wedding present for him, from her and Max, in the closet. Suddenly sensing trouble, he went hesitantly to open it. On the inside of the door was mounted a full-length mirror, in which he saw himself and just how ridiculous and unmanly he appeared. But then she told him to remove a sheet that was draped over something large. Anson was crestfallen when he saw that it was a blow-up sex doll with a lifelike pussy and a round red mouth. Brianna and Max howled with laughter. Anson had to take the artificial woman to a spot alongside the bed and get down on the carpet with her, kiss her, and tell her how lovely she was and how much he desired her. His wife made him finger his nipples and play with his tiny dick until he managed to achieve one of his unimpressive erections, short and slender, his undersized balls pulled up tight against his hairless body. With his glasses threatening to slip off, Anson had to mount the doll and slip inside, while still kissing its uninviting mouth and speaking to it seductively. There was no lube in the rubber pussy and he had trouble getting himself the rest of the way excited. He worked and worked, with the couple who were now on the bed, undressing each other, snorting their derision and making nasty comments. "Hey, Annie," Brianna said. "You finally got a woman. But you're almost a woman yourself. Does that make you a couple of lezzies?" "Yo, Annie girl," Max offered. "You sure have a soft shapely booty. Maybe I should climb on top of the two of you and make it a threesome." Anson tried harder, not really believing Max's last threat, but still fearful that he might do it. To the sounds of their mirth and insults, by tweaking his own nipples, with the taste of that rubber mouth on his tongue, the newly wed Anson eventually got himself to finish, though it was far from satisfying. He slumped in defeat over the sex doll and lay there sniveling. The happy pair got busy with foreplay. Brianna put her mouth hungrily on Max's big tool and, between deep swallows, told Anson to take his girlfriend over into the corner, from where he could still see the action on the bed. Anson curled up with the doll in his arms, staring at his wife and her confident lover as they enjoyed each other. Max soon mounted her and then took his time giving her a long slow ride. She writhed under him, wrapped her pink-white legs around his dark body, and moaned loudly. She called Anson pussy-whipped and an ass kisser. Max didn't speed up until the end, when he drove her into a quaking orgasm. While she was at her peak, he let himself go. Anson could only stay where he was and blubber to himself. After that his nose ring was removed and the three began to settle into their new lives. Max moved in, bringing his big-screen TV for all the sports he loved to watch, his weights, and a steady supply of steaks, which he preferred to have cooked very rare. Anson, on the other hand, wasn't allowed to bring any of his male clothing. Instead of steaks he ate unflavored yogurt or cucumber sandwiches. The contrast between Max's physique and his was laugh-provoking. It was by then understood at work that Anson was just a hopeless sissy who Brianna had married because he wasn't intelligent enough to live by himself any longer. It was seen as what Callie called it, a 'pity marriage'. So he was dressed in girly clothes five days a week on the job. He got a promotion to being the lowest of the low among the secretarial staff. He wasn't trusted with anything important and spent lots of time making coffee, fetching office supplies, taking trays of Danish pastries around to everyone, and having the women try out new cosmetics on him. He couldn't ever assert himself, not while wearing silly frilly skirts and tops covered with three- dimensional fabric flowers. There was a name plaque on the too-small desk they assigned him, that said 'Annie'. The girls would take strips of paper and write other words, which they taped over his name, words like 'Chump', 'Imbecile', 'Bimbo', and 'Shrimp-dick'. At home there was a huge contrast between the two males. Max would be doing curls with dumbbells while Anson was learning the womanly arts of knitting and flower arranging. Max was cheering his favorite teams when they won and cursing them vociferously when they lost, while Anson was being put into cute ballerina outfits to practice dance movements. About the only very physical activity Anson was involved in was a series of agility exercises in the backyard. Usually Brianna would have a few of her female friends over while her husband had to skip around between stakes driven into the ground, hop over extremely low hurdles, slip through a plastic ring hanging from a low branch, and perform other such stunts. Of course, while he was doing that he was dressed in some of his most girly finery. One time it might be a fairy outfit, complete with wings. On another day he would be in leotards and a sparkly sequined vest with matching headband. He didn't understand what, if anything, those activities were leading up to. Sometimes Max would snarl at him because Anson was in the way or committing some other minor infraction. To the cuckold husband's surprise, Brianna started to take his side. She would gently chide Max, reminding him that 'Annie' was incompetent and clumsy, and that they had to be patient with 'her'. Max would grumble but he did listen to her. The tall Black man set up a basketball hoop at the end of the driveway. While he was out there, just taking practice shots or else playing one- on-one with his buddies, Anson had to sit in a colorful lawn chair practicing his needlework or completing some frivolous craft project. People passing by could see the sissy husband and gave him looks that embarrassed him to no end. After one of Max's basketball workouts, when his friends left, and while he was still sweaty, he liked to drag Brianna off to bed and slam her with his enviable cock. Usually they would leave Anson out in the hallway, with the door open only a crack, so the sexually neglected husband could hear everything but had to imagine the visual details. Afterwards he might be called in to worship his bride's feet or even, if she was in the mood, nuzzle her ass. The odd sessions in the backyard became more frequent. Now Anson was being put into a dog collar, which even had the name 'Annie' printed on it. He still didn't comprehend, though it pleased him whenever he earned Brianna's praise. Every 'good girl' meant a lot to him. One evening he heard her on the phone talking to one of her girlfriends about some event, a competition from the sound of it. He was still trying to put the details together when she informed him that they were going out for the day the next Saturday, all three of them. He was puzzled, a bit worried, but had been growing more and more trustful of her. She still told Max to leave Anson alone when he was watering the potted flowers or sewing lace onto one of his skirts. Anson was sleeping in filmy baby doll nighties that showed off his slender figure and hairless skin, and she complimented him on how he looked in them. Brianna was still quick to call him jerk or nerd or geek or sicko, but she gave him positive reinforcement when he did anything especially feminine, like bedazzling a purse she bought him or weaving colored yarn into his hair when he put it into braids. At last the mystery of all those hours in the backyard was solved. On the appointed Saturday they all got into Max's truck, except that Anson had to squeeze into a portable kennel in the back. They drove out of the area and into the country. When they got there, as they reached the end of a long access road, Anson peered through the mesh of his cage and saw a big old farmhouse. He spotted a sign tacked to one of the uprights of the porch that explained everything. There was going to be a judged contest to find the best Sissy-Dog. Before he could think about it much, Max was opening the crate and whistling for him to leave it. Anson, wearing just one of his older ballerina skirts and a new dog collar studded with rhinestones, obeyed without a word. He had nothing on under the skirt, so his bare bottom and immature genitals were shamefully exposed. But when he saw Brianna's encouraging smile, he hurried after her, trying to assume the twin roles of sissy and canine. There were rows of chairs set up and a fenced in area for the event. He saw lines of traffic cones that he assumed would work like the stakes he had scooted in and out of at home. There were low ramps, cloth tunnels supported by metal rings, hoops to dive through, and hurdles only inches taller than those with which he had practiced. Coming from newly arrived vehicles he saw other sissies, each of them in some stage of doggy disguise. One was completely dressed in a pink poodle costume while another had only a slim collar with one dog tag on it. Anson was glad that he was relatively unencumbered because he wanted to win. He wanted to make Brianna proud. The contestants started by being led around the open space by their owners. The one walking directly in front of him had an artificial tail stuck up his butt, protruding two feet and making him wince as it wagged. Another had a sort of bondage costume. A third was naked except for a dog mask that Anson somehow sensed had been on him for a long time. Anson grew nervous as the walk-around ended. Part of him wanted to be home, making potholders or playing with glitter and glue. But another part of him wanted to succeed, to do what he had spent so much time practicing for. The events began, with the watchers laughing and commenting as the sissies hurried around, some of them falling comically, others getting upset and bawling loudly, making their owners come after them with short whips. Anson carried on as the others were eliminated one by one. In the end it was just him and the poodle, who appeared rather cartoonish and, Anson belatedly noticed, had small breasts which were either padding or else part of his anatomy. Oh my. But as Anson had suspected, the full outfit got in the way, and the pink poodle got hung up in a smaller ring that she was expected to wriggle through. Anson got himself into and out of one of the same width and was declared the winner. A sash was put around him that bore the words, SUPER SISSY and, in smaller letters, DOG IQ=13. He was given a glittery tiara with a plastic dog bone stuck on it. Everybody else saw how insulting his 'awards' were but to him they were something to show off. He strutted around the competition area one more time, smiling, with women tittering and men guffawing, but he had his head high. Someone with a digital camera stepped into his path to take several shots of him. Anson was happy when he got back into his crate for the ride home. Later that evening, making him walk on all fours, Brianna took him to the spare bedroom where the computer was. She let him sit up like a dog while she went to a site that featured an on-line magazine called STUPID SISSY TRICKS. There he was on the cover, dog collar around his neck, tiny skirt not covering his baby dick, smiling like an idiot and wearing that demeaning sash and tiara. But he didn't care. His wife thought it was important enough to show him and, even though she was chortling at his expense, she also patted him lovingly on the top of his head and stoked his long hair. Anson dared to rub the side of his face against her warm plump thigh before she pointed him to the new doggy bed, pink and fuzzy, that waited in the corner. He curled up on it and tucked his head against his forearms before he slipped into restful sleep. Max stuck his head in the door and said, "That dumb sissy doesn't even know how stupid he made himself look today." Brianna said, "Shush. She was a good girl today. You be nice to her." "Whatever," he said with a shake of his glistening dark head. "But let's forget about Annie right now. My cock and your pussy have to get together in bed, baby." She smiled at him and said, "Let's do it. Annie may be my sissy and our bitch dog, but you're my man." *********