Three Sissy Quickies free porn video

THREE SISSY QUICKIES by Throne Marissa called out from the living room, "Poppy. We're waiting for you to bring the snacks." From the kitchen an intimidated voice answered, "But your friend... she's never seen me before. I mean, like this." "Well, it's about time Jen saw you. After all, she's my best girlfriend. We share everything. So get a move on." Paul picked up the 3-tiered tray and walked carefully on his 3 inch heels. He got almost to his destination and stopped. The women were chatting about some TV show they both liked. It was a crime drama and, because his wife deemed it too upsetting for him, he had never been allowed to watch it. As he stood there trying to gather his courage, he pictured the two females. His wife Marissa was short and busty, with a trim waist and well padded hips, along with a round jutting bottom and shapely legs. He appreciated that she was short, because so was he. And her curvaceous figure was a delight, except that nowadays all he got to do was look at it. She had declared that he got too excited about sex and so would have to be celibate for a while. When he asked how long that was, she told him it would be for an indefinite time. That had been three months ago, at the beginning of his sissy conversion. Instead of lessening his excitement, staying chaste had him thinking about sex 24/7. It didn't help that his wife appeared to go out of her way to be visually provocative. All that made it much easier for her to manipulate him. Jen was similarly short with generous curves. Seeing the two of them together could only increase his yearning for release. Worse, because his wife had him in Poppy mode, Jen would be seeing him for the first time as his sissy self. It was bad enough having his wife sneer at him, mock him with her gaze, and make sardonic remarks. But Jen had never liked him, certainly hadn't respected him, and had even disparaged him in front of his bride. He suspected that it was Marissa's friend who had given her the idea to control and feminize him. "Poppy!" It was Jen this time. "We're waiting." He tried to square his shoulders but lacked the confidence for even that slight display of self assertion. So he was demonstrating complete girly body language as he entered the room. Jen eyed him up and down for several seconds before she broke out laughing. To her hostess she said, "Oh, Marissa. This is priceless. Look at the pathetic wimp. You really did a number on him." "I did. Of course, with such a spineless guy it's easy. And you might recognize some of the stuff he's wearing. Remember all the clothing we bought at the thrift store?" "That junk? You said it was for Halloween costumes but I suspected something else. After all, we'd been talking about you doing this to the wuss for a while." "Yeah. And thanks for all your input. You had so many good ideas and you were you so enthused?" "Always happy to help. Right now I want to get a better look at his makeover." She reached into her handbag and pulled out a digital camera. "And some pictures." Paul could only stand there with the tray. He had his knees together and his elbows close to his sides. Jen took a few pictures and then stood up to walk around him, so she wouldn't miss anything. He was mortified to be seen in what he had on. His hair was only two inches long, but his wife had put product in it and combed it upward and tied a scarp around his forehead. The scarf had rainbow stripes and hung down in the back. His eyebrows had been thinned and his face was made up. Jen had used foundation and blush, eyebrow darkening gel, mascara, eye liner and shadow. Then she had applied lip liner, garish magenta lipstick, and a coat of gloss. He had a sleeveless top over his slender torso. It was bright pink and had the word 'CUTE' written across the front in looping red letters. It ended just above his navel. Below that were tiny cotton shorts, of vivid yellow. There were flesh colored stockings on his hairless legs and then those heels, which were red and had rhinestones on their tops. Jen snickered and trailed her fingertips over his exposed lower back. He quivered under her touch and sniffled. Stopping directly in front of him, she said, "Your own wife turned you into an absolute sissy. And in only three months. Twelve weeks. Though she did have a good start, you being such a weakling to begin with. Not at all like my husband Matt. Now he's a real man." She looked at Marissa. "Don't you think so, hon?" "I'd sure like to find out," she replied with a leering grin. "But right now my creampuff spouse has to serve us our snacks." Jen sat back down. Both women were wearing snug, low-cut tops that showed plenty of cleavage. And tight slacks that accentuated their nether curves. Paul was much too aware of their physical charms. His enforced celibacy tormented him. He took a steadying breath and went to Jen. Bending forward at the waist, as he had been taught to, he held out the treats to her. There were petit fours and miniature cupcakes and bon bons and more. Naturally, he wasn't allowed to eat anything like that. When his wife indulged in sweets he could only look on and salivate. That's what he had to do now, close enough to inhale the tempting aromas but not permitted to sample any of it. Jen sat there studying the selection. Because he had to maintain that unnatural posture, his back almost immediately began to feel uncomfortable. The guest had him rotate the tray slowly while she remained indecisive. He tried not to ogle the exposed tops of her plump breasts. At last she took one item and waved him away. He went to his wife who smirked up at him. She had Paul sink slowly into a deep squat and left him like that while she talked to Jen about a movie she was waiting for to be available on her pay cable service. Jen said that she had bought the DVD and would be happy to loan it to her. "After all," she said, "you and I share everything." Paul was trying to decide if there was some hidden meaning to that when his wife finally took something off the top tier and also shooed him away. He stood with his back to the wall, trying to be nonintrusive. The women gabbed about clothes and Marissa said Jen could try a new belt she had recently purchased. Paul remembered that one. It had been very expensive. His wife had made him look while she modeled it, along with other acquisitions. She even finished with a short nightie that had made his balls throb with unmet need. While they were still discussing clothes, Jen commented, "Poppy walks well in those heels. Was it hard for her to learn?" "It was at first. But I made her keep them on for an entire weekend. Once her feet and ankles recovered from that, she did rather well." To Paul she said, "Show her, Poppy. Put down your tray and swish around the room a few times." The he-she husband felt himself blush. He put the tray on an end table and began circling the room, adding extra hip action to his movements, holding his hands out to the sides with his wrists limp. It was demeaning but he would rather humiliate himself than risk his wife's anger. She could be endlessly cruel, as he had learned when she made him crouch in the half-filled clothes hamper, scrunch himself all the way down, and then closed the lid on him and set the bathroom scale on top. She had gone off to grind coffee beans, brew a pot, and unhurriedly sip a cup, while he was stuck in that cramped space, breathing the odor of unwashed clothes. Their conversation slowly ran down. He dared to hope that Jen might leave and this difficult encounter would end. Besides, he still had a half dozen pairs of Marissa's delicate panties to hand launder. That was especially time consuming because he was required to suck the crotch of each one until it was pre-cleaned. He was silently wishing for the visitor to leave when he was startled by a loud knock on the front door. Paul stood there, paralyzed by fear. Was another of his wife's girlfriends coming to be amused and entertained by his plight? Marissa said, "Poppy, be a good girl and go answer the door. Now." His hands were shaking and his knees threatened to buckle as he went to the door. It could be anybody. What if it was a police officer, there to tell them that Jen's car was parked wrong and had to be moved? He put his hand on the knob, turned it, held his breath and opened the door. There stood Jen's husband, Matt, with stubble on his square jaw and a crooked grin. He looked down at Paul and snorted derisively. "Mind if I come in, Paulette?" The smaller man stepped aside. He wrung his hands as Matt passed. Then Paul closed to door before someone passing outside might spy him. Matt went to his wife, who stood up to greet him. They embraced and shared a deep kiss. Then Matt went to the snack tray, took the biggest sweet he saw, and tossed it into his mouth. Marissa said, "Poppy was supposed to offer you the tray." Matt nodded. "She's not trying hard enough. Guess she'll have to be punished." "But later," Jen said. "Let's get to what we're here for." Paul was confused. What were they talking about? He just wanted Matt to go away. Having a woman beside his wife seeing him while he looked all sissy was terrible. That woman's husband eyeing him up and down was ten times worse. "So how are we going to work it?" Matt wanted to know. "I need Poppy at our place," said Jen. "Before I do anything else, she's going to give our bathroom a thorough cleaning. While I watch, and if she slacks off or misses any spots I'll be there to... motivate her." Marissa offered, "And I'm staying right here. Can't wait to get Matt into my big bed. It's been too long since it's been used for anything except Poppy eating my pussy, and for sleep." "So, fine," Jen agreed. "I'll be at home in our bed, with my own personal sex slave for the entire night. And for tomorrow morning." They all shared a laugh. Paul looked from one to the other. His wife went to the closet and got him a long coat that would cover his sissy garb for the short drive. "Wait," Paul said, still trying to understand. "You're giving me away, Jen?" "Not giving you away, airhead. I'm trading you for Matt. Both us girls get what we need in bed. I know I certainly could use a big cock like Jen's always bragging that Matt has." Jen joined in with, "And I want my pussy pampered by Poppy's busy tongue, which Marissa tells me is quite a treat. Nothing like a complete submissive who you don't have to do anything for in return." "You... you're swapping?" Paul said incredulously. "Sure," his wife affirmed. "DVDs. Fashions like that belt. You know how Jen and I are. We share everything." ********* Betty was in the grip of sexual tension. He had a male name, of course. But at the moment he was wearing nothing put panties and fishnet stockings. His undersized dick was stiff and it bobbed as he vigorously buffed another pair of his wife's tall leather boots. He had done two of them previously. Each one had a different type of heel. There were four inch spikes, a three inch stiletto with a one inch platform under the sole, and the current design, a three and a half inch block heel that he kept gripping with one hand while polishing with the other. His small dick was hard because he had an obsession with feminine footwear. A pair of flashy shoes, something classy but with ankle straps or extra pointy toes, or else outrageous hooker heels. All of those drove him to distraction. But his main and most powerful attraction was to boots. He whimpered just then because he had to touch them to get his job done, but was only allowed to have his hands on the cherished glossy surfaces. Betty longed to rub the sleek uppers against his nipples, to lap the lowers, suck the heels, and best of all to press his puny penis against the sweet spot, in front at ankle level, and hump against it until he lost control and spurted all over that beloved, seductively scented material. He was hunched over the current object of his attention, unconsciously rubbing that hand-filling heel with his thumb, sneaking his face closer to where his cloth was rapidly rubbing the dark surface, and huffing the intoxicating and distinctive scent of leather... leather... leather. A voice from behind him broke into his perverted reverie and said, "Snorting that magical smell, are you? Not concentrating on what you're doing? Maybe I should just keep you away from my shoe closet." He turned his head. Towering over him was his wife Velma, slim and angular, with cupcake breasts that had high-set nipples. She had on a tasteful blouse and smart slacks, along with a nice but not especially exciting pair of sling-backs. He gazed up at her fearfully. "I'm sorry dear. It's just that sometimes my mind drifts." "And I can see from the state of your sorry mini-dick where it drifted to. You just can't control your lust when you're around my shoes and boots." She made a sour face and shook her head disapprovingly. "I guess I'll simply have to do something about that." "I... you can't... I mean, please don't take away my privileges. I do keep everything organized. And clean. Remember when you wanted those oxblood boots? The ones with the studs around the tops?" He moaned at the memory. "And I knew that they were all the way in the back of the closet." "Yeah," she said with a sigh. "Because you put them there. So they'd always be handy for you to fetish when I was out anywhere." He smiled sheepishly and confessed, "Well, yes." "You are incorrigible. And I will have to make a change. But for right now I think I'll give you a treat. Find me my riding boots. The ones that fit so perfectly over my calves." Betty's breath shuddered. He reached for the boot rack in the closet, his hands going unhesitatingly to the second row from the bottom, and took the pair she desired. Velma sat on the edge of the bed and chuckled at her panty and stockings wearing spouse. He was helpless under the spell of boots. She made him gingerly remove her shoes and put them back into the shoebox where she currently kept them while awaiting delivery of an additional shoe rack. Then he gave her a brief foot rub. His erection didn't diminish. It still pressed outward against the panties' front. With a chuckle she granted him the honor of putting the riding boots on her. They fit snugly but with care he got them on, not encountering any problems. As he did it his arousal mounted. While he knelt before her, ravishing the boots with his eyes, she brought up her lower leg and teased his genitals with her foot. The touch of boot leather against his thinly encased privates made him gasp. She massaged his erogenous zone while he held onto the edge of the mattress and groaned, not knowing how far she would take this. "All right," she told him, sounding bored. "You can have sex with my boot. I'll even let you lower your panties. But don't take forever." "Th... thank you," he whispered gratefully as he yanked his panties down onto this thighs and inched forward on his knees. His hands went to the back of her heel and he elevated the lower portion of her leg just enough to give himself the ideal angle for what was to come. Betty got his pecker against the boot so that the underside of his organ was in full contact. Beginning slowly, he made kinky love to the mesmerizing riding boot. "That's it, Betty Boot," his wife said soothingly. "Get it on with my boot the way you're not allowed to with my body. Do it, you hopeless sissy. Show me what a freak you are for my boots. And how far you are from being a real man. You and your poor excuse for a cock. Demonstrate why I had to put you in panties and stockings and cut off all your rights to real sex. Hump that boot, sissy. Come on that lovely leather, Betty Boot." Her words pushed him over the edge much too soon. He grunted, squeezed his eyes shut, and spurted onto the gleaming leather. As soon as the last of the cream left his body, he slumped forward, still holding the heel of her riding boot. "Now lick it clean, girl," she ordered imperiously. "Make it quick." He bent to his unsavory task, his tongue moving rapidly, as he made himself swallow his own spunk. He gagged slightly but got it all down. The moment he raised his head she barked at him to go to the bathroom and clean his crotch at the sink. She also forbade him from rinsing his mouth. As Betty washed off his undersized male parts, he automatically checked to see if any hair was growing back. That was a habit he had acquired earlier on, when he was still using regular applications of depilatory to keep himself smooth down there, as well as everywhere else. Now he had to remind himself that those self-inspections were no longer necessary. His wife had gotten him laser treatments and none of the eliminated hair would grow back. Ever. As soon as he was cleaned and dried, he rushed back to see what else she wanted. Maybe his wife was in the mood for him to serve her orally. He preferred to do that before he was allowed to finish, on the rare occasions when that happened, but right now he was so glad she had let him spend intimate time with one of his favorite pairs of boots, that he didn't mind. He got there but she wasn't on the bed. He could tell that she was palming something in her hand. "Sit where I was," she told him imperiously. "And spread your legs." She opened her hand and held it out. What she had been concealing was a chastity device. A cage that would contain his penis and prevent erections. He had seen plenty of those on-line and knew that this was as small as they came. His wife assumed the position that he had formerly taken and worked the chastity over his flaccid member. She worked efficiently, snapping the holding ring around his scrotum, behind his testicles. Then she fitted the two pieces together, took a little heart-shaped lock, and slid it through the connecting openings. "Go ahead, Betty," she told him calmly. "Close the lock. Make it impossible for you to get hard. Now and until I decide otherwise. I'm tired of worrying that you'll mess with my shoes and boots when I'm not here. So from now until whenever, I'm keeping you locked. Do it." There were two sounds. The lock clicked shut. Betty Boot sobbed. His life would still include being made girly. And being the keeper of his wife Velma's collection of shoes and boots. But now that footwear would torment him because he had no way to release the passions it triggered. Without being told to, he bowed his head and kissed the area where he had just been permitted to hump her boot and spurt on it. That would likely be the last time in a long while he was able to do that. For a long while and maybe forever. ********* Charlie was stuffed into a pink, satiny party dress that was designed to be worn by a little girl, but had been specially made in an adult size. Whenever he was home his wife Edna kept him in similar fashions. He also had on pink tights and matching ballet slippers. There was a blond wig perched on his head, with sausage curls hanging down on the sides and back. In front it had bangs. His face was decorated with extra long false eyelashes, too much rouge on his cheeks, and dark pink lipstick that was applied to give him a bee-stung mouth. He hated being made to look this way but it was what his wife had done to him after he was caught cheating with his secretary. He either had to surrender to her complete control or face a devastating divorce and one-sided settlement, charges of sexual harassment and worse, the loss of his job and becoming unemployable. There was even a good chance he would do jail time. He knew what could happen to a guy like him, short and with a slight build, blond and soft featured, if he was on the inside. The secretary had sex with him willingly, but made sure she had all sorts of evidence that suggested otherwise, and then blackmailed him. When she got bored with that she let him have her once more but arranged for several of the other women to catch them, including the female boss. And made sure it looked completely non-consensual. So now he was stuck in this insulting role. It had gone on for half a year and he was gradually succumbing to it. He was prone to pout or break down and cry. Sometimes he was petulant and would even stamp his foot or, on one occasion, stick out his tongue. Charlie fought to hold onto his grown up male persona. When he was at the office, where they had allowed him to stay on but with less authority, he sometimes found himself acting immature. It didn't help that he always had cotton panties on under his trousers. And part of the agreement to not fire him included depositing his pay directly into an account that was in his wife's name alone. It was all so difficult. But lately he had been telling himself that he would prevail. And find some way to turn everything around. He would begin working on that this evening. Edna was going out to one of her female friend's homes for a wine party. She expected to sample several different bottles and therefore planned to sleep over. Charlie would have until the next day to think his way through all this. Sitting on a white, ice cream parlor chair that his bride had bought especially for him, he tried to organize his thoughts. She had given him an oversize lollipop that he was expected to eat... like a good little girl. Charlie stuck out his lower lip and frowned at the candy. His wife was suddenly there, saying, "If you keep looking so grumpy, your face might freeze like that. Would you want to always look so sour... Cherry?" "No," he responded, crossing his legs at the ankles, shoving the candy into his mouth, and giving it several hard sucks. "I'm glad to hear that. You know what happens when you show a bad attitude." Then, as if he didn't know the answer, she told him, "You get spanked. Is that what you want?" He took the lollipop out of his mouth, licked his lips, and forced a half a smile onto his face. "No, Mommy Edna." She was a full-figured woman and lately had appeared somewhat matronly in his eyes. At the moment she had on a dark skirt suit and her hair was up in a tight bun. His eyes went to her very full bust and he tried to remember when he had been able to put his hands on it. And to have sex with her. Those memories were sometimes difficult to access. She granted him a tolerant smile. "And don't forget that the reason I call you a pretty name like Cherry is to remind you to have a good attitude. Cheery Cherry." He nodded and popped the pop back between his lips. Why couldn't she just leave? He had so much to think about. These days any distraction made it impossible to concentrate. He attempted to focus but lost his train of thought when he heard a car pulling up out front. "That'll be your babysitter, Cherry. I wouldn't want to leave you all alone, girly." "My...? I don't need..." He was too flustered to properly make his case. Edna went to the door and opened it. In walked Maria -- his secretary. The dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty smiled at him. She had a large plaid zipper bag with its long straps over her shoulder. Charlie couldn't help recalling all the sex they had shared. "I don't understand," he managed to say. "Well, you need an adult to keep an eye on you, Cherry. And Maria seemed like a perfect choice." "But she's the one who seduced me." "I'd hardly call it that," his wife corrected. "You went after her. I mean, she threw a few hints your way, but that was only because I asked her to." "What?" "Well, I'd had a conversation with some of the girls. The ones I'll be seeing this evening. It was about cheating husbands. I told them I was absolutely certain you would never do that to me. It turned into a bet. I'd met Maria at your company's office parties, and we'd hit it off. So I requested that she flirt with you a tiny bit, never imagining you'd take the bait. When you did, I was infuriated. She thought it would be fun to let you have some sex with her -- she's very easygoing about that sort of thing -- and then stick it to you with blackmail. I was more than happy to go along with it. It was amusing to watch you get calls from her, and see you go into a nervous dither. Then we staged that final act that got you into so much trouble. After she agreed with your employers to make a few changes to your status, I had part of what I wanted. But it wasn't enough and, with the leverage I had, turning you into a harmless little girl struck me as the rest of the payback I needed. Making you over into someone who could never even think of cheating on me or any woman again." Maria added, "Clever. Right? Don't you agree... Cherry?" She tittered. As she set her capacious bag on the sofa, he felt weak in his knees. The situation he thought couldn't get any worse had just done exactly that. And with Maria there he wouldn't be able to even start planning to save himself. It was all too much. He held the long stick of the lollipop in both hands and lapped at it furiously. His secretary said to his wife, "You should go now, Edna. I'm sure we'll be fine together, me and your sugar-sweet girl. I'll just make sure everything I need is in her diaper bag." Charlie choked out the words, "Diaper bag?" "That's right," Maria told him. "Remember that, even though your lovely wife is getting her revenge on a nightly basis, and 24/7 on the weekends, you still owe me. After all, I had to put up with your selfish performances in bed. The way you slobbered all over my tits -- UGH. So I decided to make you a baby whenever I feel like it." She grinned at him. "Unless you want to do something about it. I mean, the company left the matter of your sexual misconduct open for the next five years. If I tell them that I'm suffering post-incident trauma, you could still end up behind bars. Would you rather play baby with me or be a cellblock bitch for a bunch of sweaty men?" "I... I'll cooperate." "Great. But when you talk to me, don't sound like Charlie, the way you just did when you got upset. Or even like young Cherry, like Edna tells me you have to here at home. No, I want to hear baby Cherry. Can you do that for babysitter Maria? Or how about Aunt Maria?" He went blank for several seconds before saying, in a feminine, babytalk way, "Okay, Miss Maria. Cherry be good." "That's more like it. And don't break character while I'm feeding you your bottles or changing your diapers." He almost blurted out some words of protest at that last revelation. But self defense prevailed and he clapped his hands lightly together, grinning foolishly and babbling, "Bottles. Diapers. Auntie Maria. Yay!" Edna, looking more maternal than ever to her husband, gave him a sly smile. She was obviously enjoying this. Maria whispered to Charlie that he should be sitting on the floor. She unzipped the bag and laid out a large cloth diaper and baby powder and lotion. He shuddered at the prospect of what was going to happen soon. Next she took half a dozen filled bottles from an inner cooler section of the bag and put them in the fridge. Then she took his lollipop, telling him that he'd had enough candy. But she promised to spoon feed him lots and lots of healthy mush. A sense of powerlessness overwhelmed Charlie. Or as he was more and more thinking of himself, Cherry. Maria put a bonnet on top of his wig and tied it under his chin. She pulled mittens without thumbs over his hands and fastened them securely around his wrists. He realized that his fingers were now encased in thick padding and rendered useless. Finally she took a fat pacifier and draped its ribbon around his neck. Charlie's wife smirked at him and then left for her overnight visit. Maria tickled him under the chin. Her touch had a mildly erotic effect but he felt more like a toddler than a man. "We're going to have so much fun," Maria assured him. "And I'll come to visit you as often as I can. Now let's get you out of your tights and into a nice warm diaper, with rubber panties over it, before you start drinking all those bottles. Okay, Cherry?" He could only tell her, "Okie, Maria." She was already spreading a blanket on the floor next to him. It was covered with cartoon animals in bright colors. Charlie gave up and let her turn him and ease him back until he was lying there, looking up at his former bed partner, her shapely breasts under a colorful T-shirt with no bra holding them. Her sweet face smiling down at him. She pulled up his dress and worked down his tights, removed his footwear, and got the tights the rest of the way off. From the bag she also took a pair of ankle socks. Maria told him, "We're going to have such a good time, Cherry. All night and into tomorrow." ********* (For any readers who want to read stories with primarily gay content, I now have some on the free fiction site, gayspiralstories.com. Their specialty is mind control themes. If you take a look at my efforts and want to comment, please leave a review there. Thanks.)