Sissy Club Scene
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Sissy Husband Scene free porn video
SISSY HUSBAND SCENE by Throne
"Francis." Sitting in her large, deeply padded recliner, Maria waited a
few seconds for her husband to respond. When he didn't, she called
again, this time with impatience. "Francine!"
Moments later he hurried into the room. She smiled with cruel
satisfaction at his appearance. Francis was short and slender, with no
visible muscular development. She had made him get laser treatments to
permanently remove all of his body hair. He was wearing a skimpy maid's
outfit in shades of pink. His feet were squeezed into tight shoes with
three inch stilettoes. Because of his office job, he had to keep his
hair short. But with a lacy maid's cap perched on top of it, the length
made his true gender more obvious rather than less. He also had on make-
up, chosen and applied to give him the big eyes and full mouth of a sex
doll.
He gave a curtsey and, sounding like a shy girl, said, "I'm sorry I
wasn't faster. I was just hand washing your panties and..."
She waved away his excuse. "You just earned yourself a punishment,
Francine. But right now I want a donut. Bring me one with that pink
icing. It'll be color-coordinated with your outfit."
Francis blushed and gave another dip. "Yes, dear. Right away, dear."
He minced off while she smirked and shook her head. It was so amusing
having a sissy husband. The first time they met she could see that he
was weak-willed and would be easy to dominate. It had also been obvious
that he was awed by her full figure. Maria had a generous bust, wide
hips, a jutting bottom, and well filled-out thighs. Her spouse was
always desperate to touch her, though she was stingy about that. If he
got his hands on her, it was usually because he was performing some
menial task, like giving her a massage, or else he was using his mouth on
some part of her body. He was also smitten with her sweet round face,
and the thick, black, center-parted hair that fell halfway down her back.
As he swished back into the room she noticed approvingly how well he was
walking on those heels. After half a year of being her sissy domestic,
it was second nature to him. He held out a small plate with the colorful
donut on it. She accepted it imperiously and ate without thanking him or
even looking in his direction. He stood by obediently, trying not to
fidget. Despite being in his feminized role for months, it was still
mortifying. Of course, she had brought him along slowly. Week after
week she had pointed out his shortcomings and used them as excuses to
impose more and more rules on him. No snacks. Loss of TV privileges.
Having to wear panties. From introducing him to lingerie, she had moved
forward steadily until now he always had girly underwear and stockings
under his clothes at work, and was fully dressed at home.
Finishing the donut, she held out her hand, plump fingers smeared with
icing. He automatically came to her side, knelt by the chair, and gently
took her wrist. Francis leaned toward her and sucked her fingers clean
one by one. After he was done he blew on them to assist with drying.
Then, without rising, he backed up and waited. She grabbed the remote
and turned on the TV. Hunting through the listings, she found a cooking
show and relaxed as she watched it. He wasn't allowed to look at the TV
without permission, so he kept his eyes on his wife. She had on her
typical lounging attire. There was a sleeveless top that showed off
ample side-boob. Yoga pants that fit like a second skin. And white
socks that she had pushed down so they were bunched around her ankles.
To him she looked like a fantasy fulfilled.
He had to wait silently while she enjoyed two other programs. All that
time, besides admiring her form, he was hoping she would forget the
punishment he had incurred. At last she stood up, stretched, and started
to leave.
"Bedroom," she called back to him.
He got up and hurried after her, his eyes on her wide rolling bottom. He
self consciously straightened his cap and smoothed down his apron. When
they got to the bedroom his wife began to strip. He stood there,
transfixed, as she revealed her amazing contours. All that white skin
with it's pink highlights. She went to the night table at the head of
her side of the bed and opened the drawer.
"Got myself a new toy," she said, flashing him a sneering smile.
What she took from the drawer was a long thick dildo, clear red plastic,
with heavy balls attached. He swallowed nervously as he saw that there
were bands connected to it. No, no, no. It was a strap-on and she was
already attaching it to her impressive hips, adjusting the belt to
accommodate for her waist measurement. Maria had never used one of those
on him before. Soon she had it on. It made an obscene sight, that eight
inch cock thrusting out from her very feminine body. She gave her hips a
wiggle and it wagged slightly side to side. From the drawer she also
took a fresh tube of lubricant.
Maria snapped her fingers and ordered, "Onto the bed, Francine. Head
down and ass up. Pull down your pretty panties, sissy."
His insides were quivering but he did as he was told. It was like a bad
dream from which he couldn't wake up. As he waited, he wished he could
somehow reason with her, but Maria had so broken down his resistance that
he remained silent. She chuckled as she applied lube to the dildo and
then to his rosebud. He whimpered while his wife wiped the excess gel
from her fingers onto his lower back. Maria gripped his hips firmly and
pressed the end of the faux phallus against his virgin tightness. She
paused to let his fear mount. Then she leaned into him, forcing the head
to enter. He gasped, moaned and sobbed. She let him feel the pain of
being stretched before she buried another two inches in his body. Taking
her time, she eventually got the entire length inside.
"What's the matter, sissy?" she wanted to know. "A flaming faggot like
you must really get off on this. Are you pretending you don't like it
because you don't want me to see what a total pansy you are? Well, I
already know that, so don't bother faking anything. Just relax and enjoy
having your secret dream come true."
He desperately wanted to deny what she was saying. It was her who had
made him look and act feminine. Maria began to pump him. His short
skirt was standing up in the back and it waved with her rhythm. Francis
moaned continuously, at first from pain and then from stimulation. She
danced her hips around, playing with him. He whimpered and sniffled.
His wife laughed, pulled almost all the way out, and then plunged
completely in, until her big plastic balls were touching his much smaller
real ones.
"What's the matter, Francine? Are you starting to like this? Just a
little bit? Hmmm? Getting in touch with your sissy side? Go on, cutie.
Let go. Surrender to the feeling. Why be only half a sissy when you can
be a total one? Let me hear you purr. Go on, kitten. Right now."
Despite his suffering and that unwanted pleasant tingling, he focused
enough to obey her order. Francis made a noise like a contented cat.
Maria responded with a series of short sharp jabs. That made him mewl
and even give his bottom backward thrusts to meet her strokes. He
sobbed, deeply ashamed that he was at some level enjoying being rear-
raped. But he couldn't stop himself and kept squirming with pleasure,
gasping, and murmuring wordlessly. She slowed down. The strap-on was
designed to rub against her most sensitive areas and she was wildly
stimulated. The combination of dominating her weakling husband and the
pressure on her pussy lips and clitoris was exhilarating. The only way
to make it better was to keep it going longer.
There was a bonus for her. Now he was wriggling his hips restlessly, his
body wanting more. That gave her added stimulation. He was stretched
wide back there and had been penetrated to the max. His puny balls were
pulled up tight and, she found when she reached under and felt around,
that his well below-average prick was stiff. She could use that against
him.
"Well," she said, her hips moving in slow motion now. "There's your
proof. A miniature hard-on. Do you want to tell me you're not getting
off on this, candy-ass? Your shrimp dick says otherwise." She chuckled.
"And I'll be delighted to remind you about this any time you even hint
that you don't like taking it up the poop chute. Yes, you're a natural
pillow biter, Francine. You just need someone like me to constantly
remind you that you're certainly not a man, and to prove to you what you
really are. And I'm making it easier for you to go completely queer-boy
by putting you in pretty outfits and supplying you with colorful make-up.
Any guy seeing what those cosmetics have done, how they've given you
flirty eyes and a big kissy mouth, well, if he was attracted to your type
even a tiny bit, I know his first thought would be that you would want
his cock between your lips or else..." She punctuated each of the next
three words with a thrust of her wide hips. "... UP... YOUR... ASS."
With that she increased her speed again. That made him shudder and
twitch, pant hard, and then start babbling.
"Dear," he pleaded. "Please. No more. I can't... I don't want to...
I'm not really... It's only because..."
And then he could no longer find words because he was quaking, overly
turned on but unable to find release. She laughed as she plowed him
vigorously, making him wail from the mix of hurt, humiliation and hunger
for more. Another dozen pile-driver pokes and she gave herself a
shuddering noisy orgasm. When she stopped and slumped across his back,
his buttocks were still clenching and unclenching. He was utterly
desperate to ejaculate, but his rigid little cock only dripped clear
fluid. She caught some of his ooze on her fingertip and rubbed it over
his quivering lips.
"This will have to do until you get a real load of manly cream." She
gathered a second drop of it to smear on his nostrils, telling him, "And
I'm sure you'll enjoy smelling it, too."
He licked his lips and inhaled deeply. Without conscious thought he
said, "Yes, dear. Yes, Maria."
"There's my good little Francine. But you enjoyed that too much, so I
can't count it as that punishment you earned." She withdrew and stood
up. As she began unbuckling the harness, she went on, "You can get off
the bed, wash this big handsome cock, and then get back to your chores.
I'm sure you'll love how I left your girly ass feeling. Won't you?"
Coming out of his spell, no longer automatically agreeing, he forced
himself to say, "Yes, darling." When he sensed that she wanted to hear
more, he added, "Thank you, Maria." He got off the bed, his bung
protesting, and stood before her.
"Oh, you're welcome. And you know, Francine, it's almost New Year's Eve.
Only a few nights away. So how about if we each make a resolution?"
"I..." Now what? He reluctantly agreed, "Yes, dearest. That's a...
good idea." And again, "Thank you."
"That's what I like to hear. A simpleminded sissy like you should allow
yourself to follow someone smarter, which includes just about everyone.
My early New Year's resolution is to spend the next twelve months helping
you to be as much of a sissy as possible." She hesitated to consider
what she had just said. A smile spread slowly over her soft features.
"You know," she said, more to herself than to him, "that's actually a
wonderful idea." She grinned. "I can see so many possibilities. After
all, I've gone easy on you so far."
He didn't think that was true, but when she looked at him expectantly, he
told her, "Yes, dearest. That's right. You've been... um... lenient
with me."
"Damn right." Her eyes were bright as she told him, "Like one thing I
could do, to make sure you remember your place in this marriage, is to
have you spend an entire day on your hands and knees. Scurrying around,
running and fetching for me, without being allowed to ever stand up."
That idea led naturally to another. "And I could wear a short dress,
with nothing on under it. That way, from your house-pet perspective, you
could peek up my skirt and see my legs, all the way up to my pussy. If
you were behind me you'd get to drool over my ass. And you do like my
ass. Don't you, Francine? My big... round... jutting... pink and
white... soft... warm... ass."
He nibbled his lips for a few seconds before answering, "Yes, Maria. I
do. It's so sexy. I really love it."
She knew he was being honest. So what he said triggered yet another
inspiration. "And if I did that from time to time, you'd start to look
forward to it. To getting all those naughty peek-a-boo looks at the body
you adore. And then, you'd probably get addicted to sneaking around
trying to get more of those special views." She cackled. Actually
cackled, something that people don't do often. Her husband shuddered at
the sound. "It would reduce you to being some misbehaving little twerp
who tries to steal glimpses up his big sexy Aunt's skirt. Ha! What
perfect behavior for a weakling sissy like you. Don't you think so,
Francine?"
The way she was adding to her plans, with each wicked step leading to
another, honestly worried him. Where would it end? Especially if she
intended to do it for the next 12 months. He stood there with his arms
wrapped around himself. But then he recalled that she didn't like him to
cover up his girly outfits, and she was especially fond of putting him in
extra shameful ones, like this pink maid's costume. So Francis moved his
hands to his sides.
He answered her question finally, saying, "I'm sure you're right, my
love. A sissy like me would naturally act that way. Peeping under your
skirts and getting myself into trouble." Too late, he realized what he'd
said.
"Good point, sweet cheeks. You wouldn't be able to stop yourself from
doing it, so you'd be earning punishments all the time. In fact, I
should start thinking up some good ones right away. And go on-line to
buy some new toys to use on you." She sighed with pleasure. "This is
going to be so amusing. And do you know what else? I think I'll start
dressing you in super-shameful ways. Like getting panties with a cut-out
crotch, so you tiny dick and baby balls can hang out. And some rainbow-
striped knee socks, with big red bows at the tops, like I saw on some
cute sissy shopping site. And I'll have you read tons of stories on
that, whatever-it's-called story page I found, Fiction Maniacs. Then you
can tell me which parts of them you would LEAST like to experience
yourself. And if I even suspect that you're not being totally truthful,
you'll be very sorry after what I do to you."
Francis pressed his thighs together and nervously turned one foot inward.
As he did it he knew that it was a hopelessly sissy-type pose, but he
couldn't help himself. And those snug shoes hurt. Plus, he couldn't
stop thinking about how he had responded when she ravaged him with that
strap-on. If he already reacted with even a hint of liking that, how far
might she take him in an entire year? Besides which, she kept mentioning
him being some kind of faggot. But he wasn't gay. He didn't want
anything that implied to happen. Of course he didn't.
He was dimly aware that she was still talking. Something about, "Have
one of my girlfriends over to see how pretty you are." And, "Let you
serve us in another one of your maid outfits. Maybe the new one with
bondage straps attached to it." Then he half heard her mention one of
her female friends, "Loretta would probably be open to helping me with
your advanced training."
Her husband mentally pictured Loretta, a BBW like Maria, who liked to
dress to show off her well upholstered contours. He had long harbored a
secret obsession with that woman. Unbidden, he imagined her stopping by
on one of those days when he had to remain on hands and knees. And she
was wearing a short dress. With no panties under it. And knee length
boots covering her sturdy muscular calves. Black, shiny leather boots.
While he gawked at her footwear and snuck peeks under her hem. Which led
to Francis getting caught looking.
Maria interrupted his perverse reverie by asking sharply, "Are you
listening, sissy pants?"
"I... was just... thinking..."
"Thinking WHAT?" she demanded in a no-nonsense tone.
Francis went cold inside. He thought about what she had said moments
before. About how if he modified the truth he would greatly regret it.
He had to tell her exactly what had been going on in his mind. And what
would that revelation prompt her to do? He confessed his dirty thoughts
and she was delighted. As Maria stood there, looking excited by the
possibilities and also excited in a sexual way, Francis was seized by a
feeling of disconnection, as if he was already slipping further and
further from what was left of his masculinity, toward complete sissy-
hood.
She said, "And so for your resolution, you swear to tell me every kinky
thought that crosses your feeble mind. Understood, Francine? Every
single freaky idea my new training gives you."
With the words catching in his throat, he agreed, "Yes, Ma'am.
Definitely. I swear to tell you any and every twisted thought I have
while you're... er... helping me become a better sissy."
"Mmmm." She savored how uncomfortable he obviously was. "And keep me
updated on what you think about sucking tube steaks, and offering your
ass to a real cocks instead of just that dependable dildo I used on you."
"I promise. Even if I have thoughts about... men."
It was going to be an impossibly difficult time for him. He was
frightened to think about who he would be by the end of it. For
Francis/Francine, this was not going to be a HAPPY NEW YEAR.
*********
(Just a quick recommendation. If you liked my story GONE CLUBBING, you
should take a look at WHITE BOYS MAKE THE BEST BITCHES by Pixie
Chantelle. You'll thank me later.)
Lynne
- 19.06.2021
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