Sissy Club
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Sissy Club Scene free porn video
SISSY CLUB SCENE by Throne
"I can't believe this is happening," Jerry whimpered.
"I know," Tommy sniffled back at him.
The two short, unmanly figures were in the dressing room of Midnight
Kinque, a private club that provided perverse entertainment for the
wealthy cognoscenti of the erotically bizarre. To them it threatened to
become an all too familiar place. How had they ended up there? First
their wives had convinced them individually, with subtle seduction, that
it would be fun to try something a bit... different... sex-wise. The
guys had gone along with it. Sure the body oil was fun, and that thing
with the fur massage glove too, but then both of the gals talked their
hubbies into accepting chastity. Before the guys had sufficient time to
think about it, they were locked into titanium tubes that confined their
dicks and made it impossible for them to achieve erections.
Next the wives began to extend how long their spouses were expected to
stay that way. They began with minor excuses like how it was so much fun
to have their pussies licked and to not be bothered with that icky
penetration... for just one more night. Or how, the longer they delayed,
the wilder the sex would be for the guys when release time came. The
fellows began to surrender more and more, as naturally weak, beta type
males like them are prone to do when their equipment is put into a penis
prison. Then came the insistence that the boys remove all their body
hair and keep themselves like that, slender figures all smooth and pink.
That, with a certain inevitability, was followed by wearing panties. And
stockings. And cute chokers. And just a hint of make-up around the
house. Well, let's try two hints worth. It went on, with the men
forfeiting more and more power, until Jerry and Tommy found themselves
utterly dominated by their brides.
The males each imagined that he was alone in facing his ordeal. They
were uncomfortable being around each other, as neither was willing to
confess his chaste and feminized state, or to discuss anything that might
lead to such a confession. So it was, one Thursday evening, when their
wives told them that the two couples were getting together for drinks,
that they both became even less comfortable. The get-together was to be
at Jerry's house. His wife, Britt, called him into the room while she
was getting herself ready. He didn't want to go because he was naked.
Unless you count that inescapable metal sheath over his manhood. All she
had on was a bath towel.
"Thanks, Jerry," she said to him. "That was so sweet of you to get into
the shower with me and wash my back. And elsewhere." She laughed
musically. "I hope it didn't bother you too much, having your hands all
over me, all soapy and slippery, while your poor little pickle is all
caged up. Hmmm?"
"It was sort of... frustrating."
"Well," she said sympathetically, "I'll try not to do anything else to
get you stimulated."
That was when she removed the towel and dropped it on the bed. He moaned
with need. His wife was stunning. Tall and well rounded, her curves
full enough to put her in the BBW category. She walked over to him, wide
hips rolling invitingly, brought up her hands, and lightly tweaked his
nipples. In the past his first thought would have been that he wanted to
have sex with her. Now, after those long weeks of being prick-
imprisoned, all he could think of was having her lie back on the bed and
spread her shapely legs to allow him to lap at the altar of femininity.
He shuddered.
As if reading his dazed mind she said, "Maybe later, sweetness. Right
now you have to get ready for our guests. I think you should put on
those bikini-cut panties, the red ones, and the matching belly shirt.
And the stockings with the sparkles. Over that you can wear khakis and a
nice polo shirt, plus your slip-on shoes." She put her finger to her
pretty chin and said, as if it was an afterthought, "But your stockings
will peek out between the bottom of the pants and tops of the shoes. Oh
well, I don't think anyone will notice. Do you?"
He was so cowed by then that he lowered his eyes and mumbled, "No, dear."
She gave him a sly smile, a wink, and then shooed him out of the room.
He hurried off to get himself ready. His mind was always on pleasing her
because she held, if not the key to his heart, the one to his cock. In
the beginning he had hunted for that means to free himself but, as the
days passed, he relinquished even that effort to help himself, as he
quickly and deeply fell under the spell of chastity.
When Tommy arrived with his desirable wife Margo, Jerry went to the door
to admit them. Tommy appeared uneasy, though Margo was her usual
stunning self, desirably generous contours well displayed in a tight
dress much like the one Britt had selected. Tommy had on pretty much the
same as Jerry. Coincidences? Anyway, the evening progressed smoothly,
with the women having a chatty conversation and the men sitting silently.
After everyone's second glass of wine, Britt shifted her plump bottom,
crossed her delightful legs to make her skirt ride up tantalizingly, and
gave Margo a thoughtful look.
Britt said, "You know, Hon, I've been thinking that, now that I have
Jerry in panties all the time, along with his other cute girly clothes, I
should give him a feminine name."
"Sounds good. And I could do the same for Tommy. It seems silly to call
him by his boy name when he's mincing around the house in a baby doll
nightie and fuzzy slippers."
The guys were stunned and appalled. Their wives were BOTH doing this to
them? And discussing it with each other? And wanted to call them some
kind of sissy names?
Before they could recover from the initial shock, Margo decided, "We need
some inspiration. How about if we have them strip down to their
frillies?"
"I like it," Britt said happily. She snapped her fingers in the air.
"Let's go, hubbies. Lose those shirts and pants. Let us see the real
you."
The men rose uncertainly. Did they actually have to do this? With their
willpower sapped by chastity, they began to undress. Soon they were
standing side by side, their male apparel neatly folded and laid on a
wooden ladder-back chair in the corner. They had on the same items, only
in different colors. Not coincidence. Jerry had his knees together,
hands crossed on his tummy, like a schoolgirl waiting to receive a bad
report. Tommy had his arms crossed, hands up on opposite shoulders,
shifting his hips nervously. The women sipped from their glasses, in no
hurry to give their spouses any relief.
First there were some rejected ideas for names. Cupcake and Muffin.
Glitter and Bea Gay. Squishy and Swishy. But then they had the thought
to create names based on what the guys were actually called, so that
every time they were addressed as females, they would be reminded of
their stolen male identities. Thus, the wicked wives settled on Gem for
Jerry and Tam for Tommy.
After that they had the sissy husbands strike poses for them, hold hands,
and finally exchange chaste kisses. The guys were stricken with shame.
Then the girls got out their cell phones, made them do it all again while
they took pictures, and spent the final hours of the visit gabbing about
how else they might have fun with their sissy spouses. Fashion shows?
Competitions to see who could come up with the most ridiculous outfit?
Dressing them as sluts? Just before Margo decided it was time to go, she
suggested that they might visit an exclusive club that her boss at work
had offered to get her a free night at.
"Sounds fun," Britt enthused. "How about next Friday?"
"I'll pick you up at nine," Margo offered.
The guys had to give each other a goodnight kiss, much less reserved than
their earlier contact, along with rubbing their chastity tubes together,
and even squeezing each other's bottoms. Also, they were ordered to call
each other by their femme names. Tommy was at last permitted to dress
and, cringing with humiliation, follow his wife's broad swaying butt out
the door.
They next evening Margo drove the four of them into the city, through a
seedy neighborhood, and into a walled and gated parking lot. They passed
through a non-descript door watched by an imposing but polite bouncer.
The latter was a tall athletic woman in a muscle shirt and chopped-off
jeans, along with work shoes. She had a crew cut. The guys took this as
a bad sign. Wouldn't you?
In contrast with the drab exterior, the room itself was elegant. There
was a bar along one side, with panels of blue-glass mirror covering the
wall behind it. Tables were arranged around the floor, each with a white
linen cover, and the chairs had scrollwork backs. Soft jazzy music
played from a state-of-the-art sound system. The women walked in
confidently, their eyes glistening. They were greeted by Margo's boss,
Mr. Chess. He was tall, expensively but casually dressed, and exuded
self confidence. The wives smiled at him while the husbands cowered.
Mr. Chess -- who liked to be called Chaz -- led the ladies to a well-
placed table. Sitting there was another classy guy, who rose and
introduced himself as Dave. He and Chaz pulled out chairs and the ladies
sat.
Jerry and Tommy stood there awkwardly, looking around, noticing a stage
down front. As their vision adjusted further to the dim light, they went
wide-eyed at the sight of the other patrons. Some were dressed in
leather, others in faux furs, one guy with macho motorcycle gear and a
woman in goth glamour. It got stranger after that. A waitress came to
the table. She was an Asian beauty in an open vest and micro-shorts, her
feet clad in super sexy heels. She smiled prettily and took the order of
four drinks, but nothing for the still standing husbands. She turned to
the guys and looked them up and down, at their dorky polo shirts and
khakis. When she was facing them they noticed that she was awfully flat
chested. Actually no-chested. She was a male! The server leaned closer
and delivered an air kiss in front of each uneasy guy's lips.
As she wiggle-walked away, Chaz announced to the husbands, "Margo told me
your names so I got you some name tags, to help you feel more sociable
and in case anybody wants to know your names." He took them out of the
inner pocket of his sport coat. "Which one is Gem and which is Tam?"
In small wispy voices they identified themselves, then accepted their
badges. The wives gave their marital partners firm looks and told them
to lose their outer clothes. More disgraced than ever, the husbands
reluctantly pulled their shirts up over their heads. Then they removed
their shoes and pants. The two of them stood there in fishnet tops and
matching stockings, along with filmy pink panties. From their bags,
their brides gave them ballet slippers to don. They also over-applied
cosmetics to make their spouses resemble cartoon bimbos. Then the grooms
fumblingly pinned their nametags over their hearts.
Chaz said, "Us grown-ups are going to have an adult conversation. You
two circulate and mingle a little. I'm sure you'll draw plenty of
attention."
Dave told them, "And hold hands, girls. That'll send the right message."
The sissy Sirs exchanged unhappy glances as they entwined their fingers.
Feeling cut adrift in a strange new world, they stepped away from the
familiar and toward the unknown. The foursome was already ignoring
them, much more interested in each other. As Gem and Tam moved further,
the scene swirled around them, one moment dominated by a staring face,
the next by a group pointing at them and smirking. It was like a
Felliniesque dream, the ever-changing images seeming almost like they
were arranged by the camera work and editing of The Maestro himself.
But everything froze as they reached the bar where two rugged looking
lumberjack types sat on their stools grinning at them. Gem took hold of
Tam's undeveloped bicep and moved closer to him. They realized that the
lumbermen were in reality lumber-women. One of the butch duo reached
out, took Tam by the ear and drew him nearer, with Gem in tow.
"Well," said the outdoorsy dyke. "Look what we have here."
"Yeah," said the other, "a couple of sissy sisters. How about if we buy
you girls a drink?"
The put-upon pair looked at each other and then at the manly women. Gem
and Tam, seeing no alternative, nodded in unison. The first plaid-
flannel-shirt wearing he-woman turned around and raised her hand for
service. The lissome bartender was garbed in a black and red, latex cat
suit, complete with a mask featuring oversized eye-openings and tall
pointy ears. She bared her teeth in a leering grin.
"What'll it be, love?" she wanted to know, except that her contralto
voice, accompanied by her large hands and Adam's apple, declared that she
was a guy.
The customer ordered a 'Slit Liquor' and an 'Ass Kisser', adding that
they should be made strong. Moments later the drinks were on the bar,
two tall glasses with colored liquid filling them to their brims, and a
plastic straw plus bright paper umbrella in each. The sissies were
handed their drinks and took experimental sips, finding that they were
indeed strong.
Lumberjack #1 said, "You know, some people call us 'man haters'. So this
is our way of proving that they're wrong. Even if you aren't exactly
men."
"Right," concurred 'Jack #2. "Because what could be the harm of you
drinking all that alcohol and then us sending you back out onto the floor
where lots of predatory perverts are just dying to meet you? I mean, if
you're a little buzzed that'll help you relax, maybe even grease the
wheels of love."
"So we're doing you a favor. Right?"
Gem squeaked, "Yes, Sir. Ma'am."
Tam echoed, "Yes. Thank you... a lot."
The dykes let out crude, shoulder-shaking laughs. Then they glared at
their victims and pantomimed for them to raise their glasses and take a
looong drink. The husbands obeyed, despite knowing that they were
lowering their ability to cope with whatever lay ahead of them. The
lumberjacks snorted and slapped each other on the back as the large
glasses were drained in stages, accompanied by sputtering and the dabbing
of tropical-colored fluids off quivering lips. When the potent drinks
were gone the buyers released the imbibers back into the wilds of
Midnight Kinque.
Now walking a tad unsteadily, holding onto each other for support, Gem
and Tam navigated between tables. Interested hands reached out and
freely stroked thighs and patted bottoms. There were also some
unsettling comments directed at the pair.
"Hey, Mary Jane. Want to sit on my lap?"
"Hello, Pansy. You don't look old enough to be so obviously getting
drunk. Maybe you deserve a spanking."
Others noticed their name badges.
"Well, Tam. What's a nice half-girl like you doing in a place like
this?"
"Mmmm, Gem. Let me feel the material of those sweet panties."
"Love your chastity. Want a butt plug to go with it?"
By the time they had made a full circuit of the room they were in a
tizzy. Their bottoms had been pinched repeatedly and fingers had probed
between their inviting buttocks. They headed back toward the table where
Britt and Margo sat with Chaz and Dave. When they arrived, however,
alas, the couples were occupied with some topic that involved men kissing
female necks and women feeling male crotches. Could this night get any
more troubling?
As if to demonstrate that it could (it REALLY could!), Britt looked up
from gazing between Chaz's thighs and estimating how huge what she had
been fondling actually was, and gave her spouse a devilish grin. She
said, "Dearest, Dave is going to drive us all to Chaz's luxury townhouse.
Or is Chaz going to drive us to Dave's magnificent bachelor pad?" She
shrugged. "Whichever. Anyway, we expect to spend the night." She
turned her eyes to Chaz and added, "At least I hope we are."
While Britt accepted a fiery kiss from Chaz, Margo took over with, "So
you sleepy beauties will have to find a ride home. Or to somebody's
home." She snickered. Dave co-snickered with her. "I'm sure someone
will give a lift to a seductive twosome like you... if you're extra nice
when you ask."
Before the husbands could fully absorb that unwelcome news, the
overheated quartet rose and started for the door. Gem realized something
and went hurrying after them.
In a hissing whisper he said, "Britt. Wait. Where are our clothes?"
"Our wallets and car keys are in them. We can drive ourselves. Or take
a cab."
"Oh, we had that sweet waitress take all that stuff and store it away in
her locker. Her locked locker. Don't worry, though. We gave her a
more-than-generous tip. Actually, one tip from each of you."
Margo contributed, "And we suggested that she might want to go out and
celebrate her good fortune. So she left. Said she was going to another
private club, The Candy Stick." She put her hand alongside her mouth and
added with mock confidentiality, "It's an upscale, drag pick-up lounge,
so you'd fit right in."
Chaz said, "But we've got to go now. I want to show Britt what I can do
for an entire hour that she says you could only ever last at for three
minutes."
"That's it," Dave seconded. "And I need to demonstrate my three-speed
technique to Margo."
"It'll be a satisfying change," pointed out Britt, "after months of
nothing but sissy pussy licking."
"And," Margo appended, "sissy foot rubs, sissy butt kissing, and
grinding-on-my-sissy's-face. Not that any of that stuff is bad. But a
gal needs a real cock, too."
"Yeah," lusted Britt, going all size-queen, "A long thick one with a big
fat head." She sneered and added, "And one that's not under lock and
key."
Then they whisked out the door, leaving the soon-to-be cuckolds standing
there in a sea of sin, being devoured by hungry eyes, as those near them
passed the word along to those further away about their unfortunate
situation. Gem and Tam looked around, hoping to find someone who might
be pitying enough to get them out of there. There was a security key at
home, hidden in the backyard shed. Their choice of rescuers was a pair
of nattily dressed, well groomed business types, who maybe were there
just to see all the freaks. Still holding hands, feeling unable to stop
doing it, the husbands went to the table and stood there waiting to be
noticed. One of the men looked up and smiled politely.
"Yes?"
Gem began, "We... kind of lost our ride home and were wondering if you
could... possibly... give us a lift."
Tam expanded on that with, "It's just that we're not really like this.
Our wives are kind of... playing a prank on us. We're straight."
The listener's attitude shifted from mild curiosity to avid predatory
interest. He said, smiling lopsidedly, "So you two don't WANT to be
touched by men. Or to DO anything with men."
Gem smiled gratefully, glad that the man understood. "Exactly."
The second guy at the table gave Tam an inscrutable look. "And you just
need to get home. And feel safe. And unthreatened. Right?"
"Yes." Tam nodded eagerly.
"Then we're your ride. Would you like to leave now?"
"Could we?"
"Whatever you want, buddy. We straight guys have to stick together."
Gem was thrilled. He had been through so much. And still didn't know
how soon his Britt was going to remove that awful chastity device.
Sometimes it seemed like she never would.
Tam was relieved. This night had been so long. He only wanted to
escape. And be freed from that unbreakable tube that sheathed his penis.
Their new friends ushered them out of the club and to a long sleek car.
The first guy got behind the wheel and the other held the rear door open.
Tam slid in back there but then his 'host' followed. The one in front
called for Gem to get in on the passenger side up there. He did, but
with dawning unease. They drove a short distance, but not out of the
disreputable part of town where the club was. Instead they went deeper,
through more dangerous neighborhoods, not stopping until they reached a
street that was on the border between businesses and an industrial park.
The vehicle pulled into a double-wide alley and parked alongside several
dumpsters.
Parked? Why were they doing that?
"Let's just take a short break," the driver said. "So we can be extra
sure we understand each other. At the club, which we're part owners of,
we get some guys who look like you, and insist they're straight, but they
really want to be used like girls. By guys," he added, as if they might
be too dull to understand. "They get off on pretending they're being
forced. Pervy types."
"And we like to know our customers," the one in back said, laying his big
meaty hand on Tam's thigh. "It helps us to avoid problems. That makes
sense, doesn't it?"
Suddenly confused, Tam said in a quavering voice, "I... guess so."
"And I'm thinking you might be one of those pervy ones. Both of you.
Who secretly want to have nasty things done to them, but keep making a
fuss. For their weird fantasy." He ran his hand higher and felt the
chastity. "Guys who lock themselves into chastity, for instance. I
mean, no straight guy would be stupid enough to let his wife do that to
him. See what I mean?"
"But... we're... not... gay," Tam whined weakly.
"Right. And you saying that isn't just part of some elaborate scenario
you want us to help you act out. With me and my friend pretending that
we like to get nasty with sissies like you. As if we ENJOY taking
advantage of helpless wusses like you two."
The driver and his pal opened their doors and dragged the husbands out.
They walked them none too gently down the filthy alley. The one in front
said, "But if we WERE all playing out a game like that, this would be the
perfect place for the action. If that was what was happening."
"No," Gem said with rising panic. "We really DON'T want you to... use
us."
"Honest," Tam contributed. "We're married men."
"And those were your wives leaving with a couple of knockout dudes?
Which would fit right into the kind of fantasy we're talking about."
Gem sobbed. "That's... I can explain..." But he couldn't. Not really.
The bigger men moved them into a shadowy alcove formed by two rusty
dumpsters. He said, "Or maybe it's a different game. This is the kind
of place where kinky sissy hookers would take a john. Because those
cheap tramps get off on doing dirty deeds in nasty places." He began to
paw Gem.
"Which the sissy hos would love, because that's their style." He pressed
Tam against a dirty brick wall with the bulk and weight of his body.
At the same time, both well dressed men placed their powerful hands on
the shoulders of the hapless husbands and began forcing them down onto
their knees. They were in no hurry, however, almost as if they really
did know they were straight, preferred them that way, and felt like
they'd been given a gift by the kind Fates.
There were snarled instructions. "Unzip me, you cheap whore." "Take it
out of my pants, bitch." "Open that wet pink mouth, trash girl." "Suck
it good or you'll get your hooker face slapped."
Gem and Tam, dressed that way, so far from home and not even knowing
where they were, in that squalid alley on their knees, with no money,
credit cards, IDs, keys, or anything, mentally imploded, their
masculinity failing them. They unzipped those threatening men, took out
a pair of long thick cocks, felt them getting harder and harder in their
trembling hands, opened their painted mouths, and began to suck them
good. There were more instructions, helpful ones about blowjob technique
and especially about not rushing it. They had to stop to lick balls.
And to talk dirty. And to lie about how they loved what they were doing
and how they lived to have any anonymous guy's tool between their lips,
preferably in some dreadful environment like where they were, and how
they were nothing but a couple of dirty, filthy, slutty, whoring, cum
dumps. After plenty of all that, at slightly past the half hour mark,
the standing guys both shot their loads, enjoying the choking sounds as
those loser wimpy TVs had to suck them dry, lap them clean, and tuck them
back into their expensive imported slacks.
"So," said the driver with a sigh. "We're going to want more playtime
with you sleazy trannies. Let's go back to our penthouse. From the
parking garage it's just a short ride in my private elevator. Tomorrow
we can all drive out to an abandoned factory on a few acres I own, where
no one will disturb us. A couple of skanks like you two will feel right
at home, being taken there by your customers, and we'll show you what
ELSE we do to sissies like you." He sneered at them. "You know, because
it's all part of those games you two love to play."
The other one said, "Later we can dump them back at the club, so they can
make more new friends. I'm sure there'll be some other sissy stuff for
them to change into in the dressing room. Sounds like a good plan."
To Gem and Tam it sounded like a very bad plan. But what did their
opinions matter?
*********
(This was supposed to be just a short scene. For a while I've been
meaning to start a series of them, the kind I could do quickly whenever I
got an idea I wanted to develop. But my attempt ran longer than planned.
So I'll try another, again putting the word 'scene' into the title, like
CAMPUS SCENE or HAREM SCENE. We'll see how it works. Does that sound
like a good idea?)
Anastasia
- 29.08.2022
- 5
- 0
