Sissys suprise
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Sissy's Long Evening free porn video
SISSY'S LONG EVENING by Throne
"Let's have a look at you, Kissy," Milly said to her husband through the
bedroom door.
She had enjoyed a full dinner but allowed him only a light salad. Now
Kenny was standing in front of the full length mirror she had recently
purchased, gazing unhappily at how sissified he had become. He was
slender and of below average height, wearing a shorty camisole top and
bikini panties, both in pale peach. His legs were in stay-up, apricot
colored stockings. His hair was short because of his office job, and his
wife preferred him without wigs; she wanted him to look like a sissy, not
to pass for female. There was make-up on his smooth face, though it was
limited to rouge and a hint of eye shadow.
As he opened the door, the cosmetic blush on his cheeks was heightened by
the real thing. He didn't want to have to appear this way. Milly had
declared over a year ago that, with his shy demeanor, nearly total absence
of body hair, and miniscule penis, he wasn't much of a man. In fact, she
announced, he would only be happy if he got in touch with his true nature
as a girly submissive. And that he should start treatments to get rid of
the limited amount of hair on his crotch and elsewhere. He tried to
protest but she insisted. Bigger than Kenny and -- let's be honest --
stronger, she had no problem intimidating him. Also, it was easy for her
to confuse him and win the arguments he attempted to get into.
As he emerged from the bedroom she smiled approvingly, trying not to let
her expression turn into a smirk. A full head taller than her spouse,
Milly looked down at him, challenging Kenny with her eyes to stand up for
himself. Along with a pretty face, she had long red hair, a heavy bust,
flaring hips, full thighs and large sturdy calves. But her most salient
feature was her bottom, which was wide and bulbous, overly large even in
proportion to her other generous curves. She had on a sleeveless
undershirt with a dipping neckline, and yoga pants. The outfit showed off
that fact that her waist was small in comparison to her dramatic contours.
Kenny summoned up his limited courage and meekly suggested, "Dear, I think
we should talk. I mean, I know you believe what you're doing is right for
me, but..."
That was as far as he got before she said, sounding quite reasonable,
"It's not what I believe, Kissy darling. It's what your body tells me."
She brought her hands up to his chest and put her thumbs and forefingers
on his nipples through the thin material of his top. As she diddled the
receptive spots he gasped. In seconds his miniature penis had grown firm.
Even when erect it was laughably small. The meager length pressed outward
against the front of his panties, not stretching them very far. One of
her hands dropped down to massage his hard-on. He shuddered and hunched
his narrow shoulders.
"You see, Kissy?" she observed. "Your baby dick gets stiff when you feel
that soft material against your nipples. You're very responsive up there,
just like a girl. I know you get mixed up about your... condition. But
that's why I'm here to help you. Let's see you practice your walk and
your body language. And then I'll have to punish you."
"P.. punish? But I didn't do anything wrong."
"Dearest, you tried to get me to discuss issues that have already been
resolved. You know I don't like to be manipulated. I would never do that
to you."
"I..." He felt like anything else he said would just get him into more
trouble, so he told her, "I'm sorry. I'll try harder not to do be that
way."
"There's my good little girl." She chuckled. "So how about you walk
around the house, maybe do a bit of your cleaning, and I'll just observe.
I want you to do well even when I'm not coaching you. Make me proud,
Kissy."
The easily controlled husband sighed and began to walk, making sure to put
one foot right in front of the other and to give his hips a slight swish.
He held his arms out slightly to the sides and kept his wrists limp. His
chin was tilted up and his lips were pursed just a bit. When he reached
the living room he picked up the feather duster that Milly had gotten him
and bent forward slightly at the waist to reach a low spot, aware that the
posture made his panty clad butt stick out. His wife had positioned
herself behind him and, while he couldn't see her, allowed herself a
hearty, silent laugh that made her heavy boobs rock under that skimpy top.
As he moved about, dusting here and there, Kenny struck retro pin-up poses
without being told to. Milly liked it when her control worked
automatically. It was so much fun to program him and then just let the
program run. As he continued, she noticed that he was even adding actions
that hadn't been in is training, like using his free hand to stroke his
smooth cheek, and licking his lips suggestively. She made a mental note
to give him some sort of reward as motivation, though she would make sure
the reward had a downside.
After she decided he'd done enough dusting, Milly gave him one piece of
advice -- "Try to keep your expression vapid, darling. Lose that focused
look. When you're acting all femme, it's more attractive if you also
look... you know... simpleminded."
His features relaxed into blankness, as if he didn't have a thought in his
head beyond looking pretty and performing his uncomplicated jobs. That
gave Milly a special thrill. She had married a weakling because it gave
her endless pleasure to break him down and reduce him to something less
than a man. Before they were married she had denied him sex, at the same
time insisting that he worship her with his mouth. Since then the
situation hadn't improved much for Kenny, except that now she gave him an
occasional hand-job, sometimes leading to an ejaculation, but just as
often not. When she did finish him, she made a point to let go of his
shrimp-dick as soon as he began to cum, so his releases were always
incomplete. She liked keeping him frustrated and eager to please her.
Sometimes she reached for something down low when he was behind her, to
let him gape at her rear end at its most expansive. The looks he got,
then and whenever she was wearing something calculated to show off her
full figure, the way he begged with his eyes, got her wet.
In fact, her pussy was moist and tingling at that moment, from making
Kenny look and act so unmanly, and from anticipation of administering his
discipline. She had numerous options for how to abuse him. It was
especially entertaining since she had converted a spare bedroom into an
improvised 'dungeon'.
Milly said, "I think we should go to the 'exercise room'," which was her
euphemism for that special space. "And you can put yourself onto the
bench, on your tummy."
Kenny shuddered. His lower lip quivered. Milly went to him and gave a
sympathetic hug, pressing her warm tits against his upper chest and
lightly kissing the top of his head.
He said, barely containing a whimper, "If you think it's absolutely
necessary."
"There you go again," she pointed out. "Trying to unfairly influence me.
Now I'm going to have to add something extra to what I'm going to do to
you."
"But... I didn't... You can't..."
"I can't?" she said indignantly. She took a step back, put her hands on
his shoulders, and assumed an expression of disappointment. "I don't
believe you just did that. After how hard I've worked to help you purge
your bad habits. And now you're trying to tell me what I can and can't
do. Oh my. That is inexcusable, Kissy. I'm afraid you're going to be
spending quiet a lot of time on that bench."
He was close to tears as she took him by the ear and, adopting a stern
scowl, and walked him to the special room. Inside there were instruments
of discipline hanging up on display: crops, paddles, quirt, large wooden
spoon, rubber strap. There were also cuffs and bonds, leg spreaders and a
single sleeve for both arms. Dominating the area was an exercise bench.
She pointed toward it and he climbed up onto its padded length. Milly
instructed him to get his knees under him and raise his bottom high.
"Now reach forward and hold onto the end. There you go. Just let me get
these panties down so I can swat that soft pink bottom on the bare. Ohhh,
you're so smooth. Looks like your body hair has finally stopped growing
back. Those treatments really do work."
She was in no hurry to get started. The longer he had to wait, the more
mental anguish he suffered. Milly rubbed his bottom cheeks. They really
were satiny. The skin care products she made him use were certainly
helping. Plus, it was such a girly thing for him to do, applying lightly
perfumed lotion all over his body every night. When she walked away he
turned his head enough to see that she was going to the rack where the
implements of corporeal discipline hung. Kenny's wife ran her fingers
lovingly over each one as she went along the line. His stomach tightened
and chills ran down his spine. At last she selected a wooden paddle and
riding crop. She paused with her hand in front of a swagger stick but
ultimately decided against it.
Next she moved alongside him to take practice swings with her weapons-of-
ass-destruction. First the sorority-initiation-style paddle, then a newly
acquired, braided, black leather crop with a triangular flap at the end.
He heard them swishing through the air. Then she laid the flat of the
paddle lightly across both his buttocks, as if taking the measure of his
bottom to plan her shots. He nibbled on his lips and wished irrationally
that she would suddenly change her mind. But of course that didn't
happen. Instead, she shifted her feet to find the optimum position from
which to work. Milly hung the crop on the side of the table and raised
the paddle.
"While I'm paddling you," she advised, "I want you to think about how you
earned your punishment. Understood?"
"Yes," he whispered. "I will."
"It's almost a shame to have to do this. You look so pretty, Kissy. I'd
much rather take you to bed so we could both enjoy ourselves. But..."
While he was waiting for her to finish that thought, imagining that she
was still stalling to prolong his remorse time, Milly surprised him and
brought the paddle down fast and hard. There was a loud meaty smack and
his bottom was instantly ablaze with penetrating pain. Kenny lifted his
head and howled. Before he could catch his breath she landed two more
blows, one slightly higher and the other lower, so that his backside was
well covered. He felt tears welling up in his eyes and tried hard to
staunch them. The fourth through sixth blows fell, overlapping the
previous ones, and his control effort failed. Hot tears rolled down his
flushed cheeks. Milly stopped unexpectedly and stepped away, breathing
audibly, her nipples tingling with arousal.
She switched to the crop, making sure to stand where he could see as she
gave it a few more practice swings through the air. It was so amusing to
play with his head that way. Kenny's backside was terribly sore already,
but the pain was spread evenly. Now, as she cracked half the length of
the crop across her twin targets, narrow trails of burning sensation were
added. At the same time, lines of red were inscribed across the general
pinkness. He howled as the higher level of pain was distributed, one
effective stroke at a time, all over his backside. Just when he thought
he would become hysterical, she abruptly stopped, set aside the crop, and
hefted the paddle once more.
"Just remember, Kissy," she said, speaking with false sympathy, "this
hurts me more than it does you."
What followed were enough added smacks from the paddle to leave his buns
blazing and, judging from how taut they felt, swollen. Then she said
that, because of his multiple misbehaviors, he was forcing her to include
one more round with the crop.
"I'm going to be using that little smacker on the end," she explained.
"It will concentrate the full force of each swing into one small area.
That's especially painful. Or at least, that's what I've read. Of
course, I don't have any personal experience on the receiving end. Maybe
later you can tell me just how bad it is, Kissy." Her hand ran lightly
over one incarnadined buttock and he winced. She told him, "I hope you
don't make me punish you this hard again, Kissy. It's not easy for me.
Honestly, I'm the victim here."
Before he could fully absorb that claim she stepped back, raised the crop
high, and paused just long enough to relish the sight of his mistreated
backside. She loved the combination of over-all redness with the darker
stripes. Milly grinned and slashed the leather down hard. It snapped
against the center of one cheek, the triangular flap leaving an angry
discoloration. He yelped and gripped the head of the bench more firmly.
Blow after blow fell, until he was wailing. Soon his reddened bottom was
decorated with fresh blotches all over. He knelt there, bawling, bottom
still raised, looking utterly vulnerable.
"There," she said with decision. "You've been punished." After granting
him a moment of mental relief she went on, "Except for one last thing."
Kenny whimpered loudly. His wife moved around in front of him and
scowled. "Oh? After all the help I've been giving you with your lack of
self control, you still insist on making noises that you know will upset
me? Really? So now I'll have to add something extra to the last part of
your correction."
He wanted to object but was silenced by the possibility that protesting
could make his situation even worse. His sitter was so on fire already.
All he said was, "Yes, dear. I'm so sorry. I'm just... ungrateful."
She didn't comment. Instead, she went to a plastic bin that sat on a
dresser along the wall. The storage box was opaque, so he couldn't see
what it contained at any given time, and he had enough sense to never
peek. She took off the lid and set it aside, then stood there examining
the mysterious contents. Kenny turned his head in her direction. Her
back was to him and he couldn't take his eyes off her queenly rump. It
was so round and protruded so far and was just plain... big. He sighed.
No matter what she did to him, he lusted constantly for that body.
Despite how harshly she had just disciplined his bottom, his little dick
still throbbed at the sight of her backside, especially with those yoga
pants clinging to it like a second skin, even following the contours of
the deep valley between her buttocks.
Milly was positive he would be gazing at her. She turned around abruptly,
for dramatic effect, and caught him looking. First she gave him a
critical frown and said she was disappointed to find him ogling her. Then
she displayed what she was holding. In one hand was a fat butt plug, and
in the other a full tube of something, along with a pair of latex medical
gloves. When she came close he could see that the tube contained a salve
intended to sooth sore muscles. Part of the product's name was 'Hot'. He
was sure that somewhere on the labeling were the words 'Not for internal
use'. That warning would be there because even a slight contact between
the substance and delicate mucus membranes would trigger a severe burning
sensation, one that would last a long while.
Kenny's spouse donned the gloves slowly, knowing that he would watch with
frightened anticipation. She let his anxiety mount as she opened the
tube, squeezed out a dollop of the medication onto one finger, and paused.
Then she obtained plenty more of the substance, using her thumb to spread
it all over the ends of three fingers. She went to him and waited to see
if he would foolishly speak or move. He stayed silent and still. She
allowed herself a secret smirk at his helplessness. He was too cowed to
defend himself in any way. Milly parted his nether cheeks with her
uncoated hand and ran the glistening fingertips of the other over his
pucker. She put the end of one finger against the tightness and pressed
down with limited but inexorable pressure. Slowly the digit was inserted.
Once it was in up to her second knuckle, she started moving it around,
lubricating him for what was to come.
The salve began to have its intended effect. Kenny bit his lips and
tightly closed his eyes. His body tensed. He started to hurt worse
inside than he did outside. She kept her finger moving. When she
withdrew, it was only so she could probe him again, now with two fingers.
It was deeply humiliating for him to be handled that way. When she got up
to three fingers at once, he sniffled, then sobbed. Moments later he
broke down and cried. Milly liked that he had held out as long as he did.
The games she played were more fun when he hung onto hope and attempted to
be strong... and then failed. She removed her gloves, took the butt plug,
and positioned it at the entrance to his rear passage. He blubbered
uncontrollably but she let him get away with it. The sounds he made
elevated her arousal.
As Milly worked the end of the sex toy in with screwing motions, left-
right-left-right, he wailed. She stifled a laugh and pressed on, sinking
it into him, getting the widest part past his clenching ring, and having
the satisfaction of seeing his own body hold the device inside. She
patted the protruding portion of the plug, lightly enough that it might be
mistaken for consolation, but hard enough to elicit fresh groans. Milly
also rubbed his roasted rump, again turning possible sympathy into subtle
torment. He squirmed against the padded table as she played with his
testicles. When she reached further between his hairless thighs, she felt
his erection. It was small but it was there. She kept her hand on it.
"Now," she said, as he lay there breathing hard, his nose running, "it's
time for a reward. I mean, I'm aware that you are trying, Kissy, even
though you sabotage your own efforts again and again. Still, I want to
encourage you. So I've gotten something special to add to your wardrobe
of girly clothes. I know how much you're coming to appreciate dressing
up. And trying to get in touch with your submissive side, even when you
screw up and make me punish you. Sometimes I think you're naughty on
purpose, just to earn one of my little spankings."
Appreciate? Naughty on purpose? She was misreading everything. As much
as he wanted to correct her, however, he was suffering too much to risk
further discipline. He whispered more thanks to his wife, who ruffled his
hair and told him he could get up. Kenny moved slowly, his bottom cheeks
so sore and feeling like they had swollen two sizes. The plug was sheer
torture, making every move difficult and uncomfortable. He stood there,
tugging down his top and then, bending down with the plug stretching him,
retrieving his panties, which had slipped to his ankles. His wife invited
him to accompany her to the bedroom. He got another eyeful of her
hourglass figure and her wide bottom, which rolled invitingly as she
walked.
Once they were in the bedroom she handed him a pink and red gift box with
the name of a popular women's store across the lid. He opened it and
pushed aside tissue paper. At first he wasn't sure what the article of
clothing was. When he took it out and held it up he saw that it was a
shaper brief in pale peach, a color close to the natural tone of his skin.
There was a thong in the back and bands that would circle the tops of his
thighs. The garment was designed to lift your butt and have a plumping
effect on it. It would also leave those reddened cheeks uncovered. His
wife smiled encouragingly and gestured for him to get into it. He meekly
complied, lowering and removing his bikini panties to the accompaniment of
more punishment from the plug. The muscle salve continued its inflaming
work.
Kenny got one leg into the brief, pulled it up slightly, and stepped into
the other side, all with the expected discomfort. He worked the garment
up his stocking clad legs and began fitting it over his flaming posterior.
It hurt to drag the waistband over his sore flesh. He didn't know that
Milly had bought the garment in a too small size. When he had it all the
way up, the bottom pieces hugged his thighs near their tops. That part
lifted his buns, while the thong separated them. Not only were his tail
end's halves sticking out of those openings, but they were exaggerated by
the briefs. The contrast between the flesh-hued material and his
discolored skin was extreme.
Milly looked him over and mused, "Something's not quite right. Try
reaching inside the front of your new panties and tucking your junk. Or
mini-junk." She chortled. "That's the way, Kissy. Down and back. Get
those tiny nuggets out of sight. And that not-even-an-appetizer of a
dick. That's better. Now get your hand out of there before you're
tempted to start playing with your tiny tool."
There was one other effect of donning the briefs. They pushed the plug
more firmly into him and held it more securely. His wife had him walk
around and he felt newly violated with every swishing step. She shook her
head, marveling at his abject submissiveness. And he was getting more
girly by the day. She decided that additional activity was called for, to
keep reminding him that the anal invader was doing its work. He was
already twitching his rear end, which she decided was due to the ongoing
effects of the salve. But she wanted to make it all worse.
"Now," she said cheerily, as if she was imparting good news, "it's time
for the other part of your big reward." Milly sat her broad buns on the
edge of the bed. Her cantaloupe breasts strained the material of her
sleeveless undershirt. Their sides peeked out of the armholes. Her
nipples were clearly evident as they created twin bumps. "Come to your
loving wife, Kissy-Pooh."
He went to her with trepidation. She moved her feet well apart and leaned
one knee outward. If she were male it would have been man-spreading. The
yoga pants were tight enough that he could see a camel toe outline of her
vulva. Kenny was almost slavering from the overload of lust that seeing
her that way was provoking. His miniature member twitched and grew
slightly, but was constricted by the tight crotch band of the briefs. His
immature-looking balls, devoid of hair, were compressed as well. And his
rectum felt like it had the wide spout of a hot teakettle shoved into it.
Even so, he was glad to be so close to his voluptuous bride.
Milly gave him an understanding smile, as if to say that she was on his
side. Her plump fingers stroked his soft tummy. She inched her hands
higher, the first two fingers of each pretending to walk up his body.
They stopped when they reached his nipples. As she began to toy with the
two receptive areas through his top, he gasped. She loved that Kenny was
so extremely sensitive there. She taunted him again, as she did so often,
saying he was as easy to stimulate that way as a girl. It was one more
subtle method of undermining his masculine self image. Kenny's breathing
deepened and his eyelids fluttered. She rubbed his nipples with her
thumbs, causing him to make a soft but urgent sound somewhere in his
throat. He shifted his feet until a disapproving glimpse quickly halted
him . Her pussy was getting moister by the second.
She took him by his narrow hips and pulled him forward, then sat him
astride her fleshy drumstick of a thigh, facing her. He grimaced as his
family jewels were subjected to the weight of his body.
"Lift your feet off the floor, Kissy," she told him seductively, "and
cross your ankles."
That put even more weight on his trapped balls. Milly gripped his slender
upper arms to hold him steady. She kept her toes on the floor but raised
her heel, elevating him several inches. Then, without warning, she let
the foot drop again. It was easy for her to keep doing that, rapidly and
rhythmically, like an adult giving a 'horsey ride' to a child. Kenny's
gonads were being bounced on mercilessly. It hurt so much. Just when he
thought he might faint, she stopped and pulled his face against her big
bust. His features were pressed into her cleavage, which was half exposed
by that thin undershirt. The intimate contact made his little penis throb
and stiffen in its confinement. She felt it against her thigh, let him
have a minute of relative enjoyment, and then sat him upright and gave him
another jogging ride. After several repetitions of those alternating
treatments, she at last dumped him backwards off her lap.
As he lay there on his looking up, dazed and confused, she stood up and
placed a foot on either side of his head. Peering down at him, suddenly
serious, she announced, "It's time for some sex, Kissy. Time to kissy my
pussy." Milly got on the bed and stretched out, face up. "You can start
by getting me out of these pants. Don't bother with the shirt. You're
not allowed to touch me there anyway. And remember, like always, no
kissing me above the waist. I thought that by now you would have earned
back that privilege. Too bad for you that you keep spoiling everything
for yourself." She did not sound sympathetic.
He got off the floor, suffering fresh defilement from the plug. Milly
looked so desirable, stretched out like that. He got onto the mattress
alongside her and took hold of the yoga pants' waist. Kenny struggled to
get them down, not wanting to displease her again. She didn't raise her
impressively large booty, so he had to strain to move the garment past it.
At last he had the pants down to her full thighs. After that it was easy.
Once they were off, he knelt between her splayed legs, his eyes on her
slightly parted nether lips. Milly gave her hips an inviting wiggle.
When she had started dominating him he had never performed oral sex on a
woman. Just the thought of it made him queasy. It was unappetizing and,
in his mind, unmanly. But now here he was, wearing girly briefs,
stockings, and the camisole top, about to do exactly that.
Kenny still didn't enjoy using his mouth on Milly's privates, but it had
become the center of his sex life. She was insatiable when it came to the
act. Besides, it might earn him a hand job, maybe even one that led to an
ejaculation. He put his palms on the sheets and lowered his face.
She said, "I got kind of sweaty while I was giving you that punishment you
earned. Hope you don't mind if I'm more... flavorful... than usual."
"I... no, it's all right, dear."
"Good, because I know I'm going to need a LOT of special attention
tonight. Plenty of pussy pampering. So hurry up, get started, and then
take your time, Kissy."
Milly had, as she warned, perspired excessively. And her usual flavor had
become rather strong lately, because she now skimped on personal hygiene
to make Kenny's job even less palatable, something she intended to keep
doing in the future. Why bother washing down there when she was getting
tongue bathes from her wuss of a husband so often? He began licking. By
then he knew what she liked and how to pace himself. He would be there
and doing that for an hour, estimating conservatively.
His bride relaxed and mentally reviewed how well everything was going --
Kenny's psychological ruin as a man, his increasingly feminine look, how
dependent he was on her for his unsatisfying sex life, the submissive way
he accepted physical punishment, and the unspoken certainty that his
plight would only get worse. She derived such pleasure from her
performances, first pretending to be helping him, and then feigning regret
as she punished him. It was all part of her five year plan. There was so
much more yet to be done. So many more girly fashions to purchase and put
him in, like a living dress-up doll. But she had more than enough time.
After all, she was barely one year into everything she intended to do to
her slave husband, sissy Kissy. More than four more years stretched out
before them. She wondered what he would be like by the end of all that.
And what she might do for the next phase of his lifetime of sissy slavery.
*********
(Thanks for the many nice reviews of my previous story. Always glad to
hear from my readers, old and new, frequent responders and first-timers.)
Lauryn
- 18.09.2020
- 17
- 0
