Sissys suprise
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Sissy's New Job free porn video
SISSY'S NEW JOB by Throne
Cara (formerly Carl) looked at what his wife Juno had laid out for him on
the bed. He shuddered at the sight of a tiny A-cup bra, bikini panties,
and stockings, all with a leopard pattern. Worse, there was a hood with
elastic around the neck and the face opening, that featured the same
motif. It also had two round ears on top. He sighed and ran his hands
down his slender body, which had been denuded of all hair months ago.
The laser treatments Juno had gotten him assured that he would never
again sprout what she called 'ugly man hair' anywhere below his eyebrows.
And those eyebrows had been thinned and shaped to appear very feminine.
He picked up the panties and stepped into them, pulling them up his
smooth legs and over his chastity tube, which contained his penis and
made it impossible for him to achieve an erection. He was so horny all
the time, especially because his wife liked to flaunt her sexy body
around the house. She had done some modeling before they were married,
mainly tennis wear and bathing suits. He shook his head as he tucked his
chastity device down and back, so it wouldn't make a bulge. Then he got
into the bra, blushing a bit even though he was alone. There was a hint
of padding in it, so that he appeared to have tiny breasts. Then came
the silky stockings. In the months since his wife had started to turn
him into a sissy, he had gotten strangely attracted to the feel of
lingerie. He didn't want to respond erotically to wearing it but
couldn't help himself.
Last was the hood. He brushed back his collar-length blond hair
(brunette originally, but Juno had invited a girlfriend over to dye it
for him) and put his head through the neck hole, pulling the snug hood
down and getting the opening centered around his features. It made him
look girly and silly and he hated it. But what could he do? His wife
was the breadwinner in the family, with a consulting business she had
built in partnership with another go-getter. Some clever strategies and
a few lucky breaks had turned it into a million dollar success story. He
wasn't allowed to work, even though he insisted he was capable. She
didn't give him any money and he desperately wanted to have the self-
esteem of earning enough to at least make small purchases, instead of
having her pull out cash or a credit card and make it obvious who had the
financial power in their marriage.
Carl went to the full length mirror mounted alongside his door. He was
required to always check himself in it before leaving his room. After
straightening the bra slightly he was satisfied. Reflected from behind
him were the pink and white dresser, vanity table, and scroll-back chair.
He turned his head a bit and could see the matching canopied bed. There
were pictures on the walls, in gaudy gold frames, of feminine forms in
flashy outfits. His wife had pointed out that half of them were real
women and the rest cross-dressers, but she wouldn't tell him which were
which. It disturbed him to look at them, even be turned on by them, and
not know if he was getting off on girls or guys.
He stepped into a pair of jazzy shoes with two inch heels. Need I
mention that they had that same eye-catching pattern on them? Giving his
leopard ears a last adjustment, he left the room and headed for the den,
where he had been told to report. As he neared his destination he heard
Juno speaking and another female responding. Carl hated it when she had
visitors. Being seen in the shameful fashions she chose for him was the
depths of shame. He made sure to use a mincing walk, taking mini-steps
and putting one foot in front of the other, as he entered the room.
Juno, in a short summer dress, was sitting at one end of the sofa. At
the other end was a woman in a jacket and skirt suit, her dark hair worn
short. She looked up at Carl and smiled with a mix of amusement and
interest. Then she turned to Juno and nodded.
The guest said, "I like what I'm seeing."
"I think she'd be perfect for you, Marie," Juno said with enthusiasm.
"The way she always wants to get out and earn some money, and with her
being too effete for any real men's jobs, working at your club would be
the ideal fit for her. Let her show you how she can move." She gave
Carl a serious look and told him, "Let's go, Cara. This is what I've
been having you practice those dance moves for." Juno picked up a remote
and started some exotic flute music playing. She told her husband,
"Let's go, darling. Unless you want Marie to see me spank you. On the
bare. Until you cry."
With those threats, which he knew she would carry out, making him quiver,
he moved to the center of the room. Finger cymbals began to chime from
the speakers. He remembered learning steps to go with this piece. At
the time he had thought she was making him perform as just one more way
to mortify him. Now, as he began to undulate sinuously, he understood
that there was more involved. Carl took delicate steps, rolling his
hips, at the same time running his hands over the front of his bra. He
half closed his eyes and licked his lips.
"Naturally," Juno said to Marie, "she'll look even better when she has
her make-up on. I still do it for her sometimes, but she's been handling
it often by herself. You should see how she looks with glitter on her
cheeks. So exotic."
Hating that he had to do it, Carl turned his back to them and worked his
bottom, grinding it and even doing some slow motion twerking. It was so
lewd. And he wanted to holler out loud that he didn't like any of this,
that he was a man, but that wouldn't carry much weight considering how he
looked and was acting. He licked his fingertips and ran them over his
neatly formed eyebrows, before trailing his fingers down his neck. Marie
summoned him to her with a wave of her hand. He danced toward where she
sat, his mind racing to try to figure out exactly what she would want to
hire him for. When he was right in front of her, still moving like a
snake, she reached out and felt between his legs. The presence of his
chastity tube made her smile.
"You know," she told Juno. "I think she'd do fine. How about if I give
her a tryout?"
Carl's wife grinned. "That would be delightful. Would it be okay if I
was there?"
"Sure. Though you might want to sit in the back. You might not fit in
too well with the rest of the audience."
Juno laughed. "That'd be okay. I have a couple of business calls to
make and some work to do on the computer, but I can take care of it all
before... eight?"
"Eight would be good. We shouldn't be crowded yet by then so she'll have
a chance to get used to the way we operate."
Slightly stunned, Carl danced for another half minute, until his wife
silenced the music and politely asked him to get them two bottles of
imported water. He went to the spacious kitchen -- paid for by his
wife's money -- and got what she wanted. He set the bottles on a serving
tray and took them back to the den, where the women were happily
chatting. Carl offered the tray to each of them in turn and then bent
forward at the waist to set it on the coffee table between them.
"Hmm," observed Marie, "looks like she has the skills for that part of
her job as well."
They spent another half hour talking about clothes and cars while Carl
stood obediently off to one side, arms limp and hands joined, putting
together the pieces of information they had given. He didn't like the
conclusions it led him toward. After Marie left, giving him a pat on the
bottom as she passed by, he was told to get out of his costume, change
into one of his maid's uniforms plus appropriate shoes (black with square
toes and block heels), and do his usual housework. The uniform, like all
of them she had gotten him, was embarrassingly brief, letting his panties
peek out whenever he moved, and leaving his hairless chest partly
uncovered, enough so that his nipples kept peeking out.
At six thirty, after he had served Juno a light but tasty meal and then
been allowed to eat her leftovers with the plate set on the floor, it was
time to get ready for his new employment. His wife had him strip naked
and put on an ankle length coat and a pair of red heels. They went
through the breezeway to the garage, with him acutely aware of being
unclothed under that single garment. As always, Juno drove. She had let
his license expire. He had to open the front of his coat and toy with
his nipples, as well as massage his balls and tug on his cock cage.
Being unable to get hard was so uncomfortable. The windows of the long
sleek car were tinted but he still felt highly uncomfortable performing
that way, even though it was for her eyes only. They drove for a half
hour and then she pulled into a long wide alley and stopped at a metal
door painted vivid chartreuse.
Juno got out and signaled for him to do the same. He exited reluctantly
and stood there feeling exposed, even though he was covered once more.
His bride rang a bell and the door was opened by Marie herself. They
entered and passed along a short corridor that led to a doorway from
which hung a beaded curtain.
Marie gestured toward it and said, "That's your dressing room, Cara. The
other girls will give you a hand and fill you in." She chuckled and
said, "With that pert ass of yours, a few of them might want to fill you
literally."
Juno took his coat and Marie gave him a slight push from behind. As he
passed through the beaded curtain, Carl felt like he was entering another
world. There were dressing tables along the walls and clothing racks
everywhere, along with plenty of mirrors. All around him stood and sat
men who were very convincingly made to look like women. In fact, if it
hadn't been for several large cocks plainly in view, he might have been
fooled, like he was by some of those pictures in his room.
"Look, ladies," said a tall tranny. "It's our new girl."
They crowded around, eyeing him with more interest than he wished, even
touching him. Curious hands fondled his chastity tube. A rude finger
probed between his buttocks and someone said, in a high and effected
voice, that he wasn't plugged. Carl stood there shivering as the tall
figure introduced himself as Miss Missy and steered him toward a seat in
front of a mirror.
"How about if I take care of making your face pretty?" he said with his
hand on Carl's bare shoulder. "And I'm sure some of the others would be
more than happy to get you into your costume. More. Than. Happy."
Carl found his voice, though it was small and squeaky, enough to ask,
"What place is this? I mean, is it some sort of club?"
"It's THE club," Missy assured him. "Marie's Make-Over. Where the women
are all beautiful and they all have something extra between their legs.
You'll be waiting tables, but you'll also be dancing. We were told that
you have some good moves, which we're all eager to see. And there's even
a special outfit waiting for you."
He was unsettled when he saw what he was expected to wear in front of a
roomful of strangers. It was a thong and the tiniest possible sailor
suit, with a bare-midriff blouse and teeny tiny skirt, plus low white
heels with blue trim. Missy set a pink sailor's cap atop his head and
told him he would be a hit with the crowd. They got him dressed, with
multiple hands accidently-on-purpose stealing feels, put his hair into a
stiff wave, and went to work on his cosmetics, giving him a 40's
Hollywood look. There were a few tips on how to move when it was his
turn to dance, and then he was ushered back into the corridor and all the
way to the entrance to the main room.
Feeling like a nervous wreck, he peered out into the long narrow room,
which rose slightly into several levels as it went back. The space was
dimly lit but not dark enough for him. He stepped out and was pointed
toward the bar, where he was given a quick explanation of how to take
orders, get them filled, and serve. It was pointed out that the tips
could be generous if he was... cooperative. With his knees quivering, he
took an order pad and walked girlishly between the nearest two tables.
All of the customers were guys, masculine looking for the most part,
although a few looked like dressers who were there to admire the
clothing. The butch types had hungry eyes and, from the look of things,
eager hands.
Carl saw a guy in a business suit snapping his fingers. He went to him
where he sat with three other men. The first one put his arm around
Carl's waist with instant familiarity. The next one over slid his hand
under that miniskirt to rub his bottom. Carl froze but didn't protest,
too afraid of getting himself into trouble with Marie... and Juno. They
gave their orders, which he wrote down with a shaky hand, and he swished
off to get them filled. When he returned they were ready for him, the
other two also getting their fill of free feels. His thighs were stroked
and his chastity was playfully handled. He took the money back to the
bar where the bartender, and older guy in a sparkling gold dress and
heavy make-up, accepted it and handed back several bills, explaining that
that was Carl's tip.
The next several tables were similar, though with variations. One
customer, a rough guy in jeans and a black T-shirt, insisted that Carl
sit on his lap for a minute. The unhappy waitress could feel an
impressive bulge under this butt. Another wanted to chat a little,
asking suggestive questions, to which Carl felt obligated to give flirty
answers. There was one who wanted him to strike several pin-up type
poses, and rewarded each one with a dollar bill. Feeling dizzy, Carl
kept it up the best he could. After the first hour he spotted his wife
coming through the doorway near the bar, accompanied by Marie. Several
customers spoke to the owner as she made her way to a table in the
shadows near the back of the room.
The bartender was checking his cellphone when Carl next returned. He
told him, "Honey, there's two ladies way back there who texted and
requested you personally. You'll recognize them because they're real
women. No flash or trash," he concluded with a touch of disappointment.
With guys eyeing him as he passed, Carl went to Marie and Juno's table.
The owner of the club was explaining some of the business practices that
made it thrive and let Carl stand and wait while she finished. Then she
had him kneel alongside them.
"So," she wanted to know. "How are you enjoying your first night at your
new job?"
He meekly said that he was still learning, but that the tips were good.
Carl opened the little bag that was on the belt of his skirt and showed a
handful of folded bills. Juno reached in and took them, smiling as she
did.
"I got you the job, so I'm your agent. I'll take my cut off the top and,
if there's any left over after that and expenses, you'll get it."
Carl's mouth fell open but he didn't say a word. They gave him their
order and he hurried off to fill it. By then more tables were occupied
than not, and the bar was almost completely full. As the drinks were
being made, music began to play. It was exotic Arabian Nights sounds
and, from where he had entered after getting dressed, a figure appeared,
slightly plump, in a harem girl costume, moving to the skirling horns and
skittering drums, soft hips in perpetual motion. It was a guy, but with
a padded top that gave the illusion of breasts large enough to match his
chubby form. He had on plenty of black eye make-up and generous amounts
of lip liner, lipstick, and lip gloss. He wore a Cleopatra wig wit a
gold diadem encircling it.
As Carl returned to Marie and Juno, he kept glancing back uneasily at the
dancer. Was he too expected to perform like that? The 'harem girl' was
passing among the tables, receiving much touching and accompanying tips.
Carl touched his empty tip bag and consoled himself that, at least if
danced in addition to waitressing, he would go home with some money of
his own. He served the club owner and his wife their drinks. Juno made
a joke about not tipping him because she would only have to take it back
later. Marie told him to drop off his tray at the bar and position
himself in doorway from which the current performer had appeared. He did
as he was told but didn't like it. When he was there the Far Eastern
music ended, the sissy dancer took a bow and got her ass slapped by the
nearest patron, and then the bartender picked up a microphone. Miss
Missy appeared behind Carl and gave his upper arm a squeeze, telling him
to 'Knock them dead'.
From the speakers came the bartender's voice, saying, "Please welcome our
newest dancer, Cara, the little sailor girl who's always ready to bunk up
with the right seaman."
There was a scattering of applause and then some nautical-type music
started. It began with the familiar Sailor's Hornpipe and segued into
something with a better beat. Twitching his hips and punching the air
weakly, Carl stepping out of the doorway and danced toward the first
tables. Immediately there were dollar bills on display. Every one he
was given came along with a pinch or grab or tweak. He was goosed and
bent over for a pair of playful spanks. Each time he slipped the tips
into his bag and didn't stop dancing. Not until he had circulated
through the entire room and returned to the front was his first
performance over. Taking the previous dancer's example he made a low bow
which predictably got him one more ass groping. Feeling breathless he
walked unsteadily to the bar, where he was handed a small drink and his
serving tray. Carl sipped from the glass, which contained something
sweet and fruity, then gulped down the rest and went to resume waiting on
tables. His feet were getting sore and his legs felt the strain, but he
was determined to get through his entire shift, which turned out to be a
mere four hours, at least for his initial evening. By midnight he was
done.
Juno emptied his tip bag once more. She gave some to Marie for herself,
more for the bartender, and then counted out the remainder and put it
into her own handbag while Carl watched wide-eyed and distressed. His
wife told him, "After everything comes out you still owe me for a few
fees and expenses. You can make that up on your next shift, tomorrow
night. But I don't want you falling further and further into debt.
Marie told me how we can prevent that."
"Right," the businesswoman offered. "There are some back rooms here
where we offer special services. No actual sex but lap dances, fetish
fun, and some bondage and spanking. I figure that with what Juno is
charging you for her services, and everything else that has to come out
of your pay and tips, including costumes and such, if you do an hour in
the back rooms every shift you should..." She made a show of mentally
calculating. "... be able to break even. You won't take any money home,
but you won't owe your wife any either, or not much."
He gaped at the women in disbelief. They smiled devilishly and shrugged,
as if this situation was perfectly normal. Carl's narrow shoulders
slumped.
Marie said, "Posture, dear. I wouldn't want to have to fine you for lack
of enthusiasm." As an afterthought she added, "And once you get broken
in we'll upgrade you to higher heels."
When he frowned his wife added, "And along with good posture let's see a
constant smile, Cara. Or I'll be charging you for private consultations
on attitude, and I'll have to use my firm's rates, which are awfully
high. If that happens, we're going to have to find even more ways for
you to earn money here, which might get... interesting."
He looked at her pleadingly and said, "But... I mean... It isn't
fair..."
She held up a silencing hand. "I know. It isn't fair that I should put
out so much effort to get you this job and prepare you for it. But
that's just the kind of wife I am for my sissy husband. You wanted a job
and now you have one. Several if we count those special services you'll
be offering from tomorrow on. No need to get all gushy with your thanks.
I'm sure Marie will take good care of you and all the other sweethearts
here will be happy to teach you the tricks of the trade. And that you'll
find some way to thank them."
"That will be easy," Marie said. "They have a certain... fondness... for
straight guys who have been turned into sissies. Make friends with the
girls and they'll come up with a special costume for you on Fashion
Parade Night. Or maybe you'll be the one to finally wear that 'bird
girl' outfit that they put together, that no one has been willing to
model. I'm sure you could waddle around with your legs bent up and your
arms folded double into wing sheaths. And the beak-mask isn't that hard
to manage. The tail might be a difficult fit but with some lube it'll go
in just fine."
The women raised their glasses and toasted each other on their successful
business arrangement. Carl could only stand there in his silly sailor
uniform and press his smooth hairless thighs together as he wrung his
small hands. He had wanted to go to work and now he was getting what he
wanted. But not the way he had envisioned it.
*********
Special inspiration provided by Mark Dayette in his excellent story YOUNG
STEPMOTHER, which features The Fag Cats Club. Also adding to the
'kinknado' in my mind are similar clubs in various stories by C.C., which
are all terrific reads. Thanks for the incentive, guys.
Valentina
- 02.04.2022
- 19
- 0
