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BOOTLICKING SISSY HUSBAND by Throne Long before she got married, Juno knew what kind of man she had to have. After dating a number of strong assertive types she ruled them out. Why get a spouse who wanted to be your superior? The average sorts were better, willing to compromise, yet still annoyingly ready to stand up for their own desires. What use did she have for someone who expected to be her equal? Then she dated a few that were physical and psychological weaklings, easy to push around and bend to her will. That was her ideal to spend the future with, one who would defer to her on everything, be submissive and unassertive in matters of sex, and would allow her to gradually rob him of what little masculine pride and self confidence he possessed. There were a few candidates. Because they were little men and awkward around women, none of them had ever been with someone like her. She was tall and displayed a confidence bordering on arrogance. Juno had every right to be so assured because she had long blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, high cheekbones and full lips, a substantial bust, narrow waist, flaring hips, and a round protruding ass. Besting all those assets were her long shapely legs, with full firm thighs and well made, solid calves, all leading down to narrow and high-arched feet. One by one she tested those inferior males, delighting in how they fawned over her and fumbled their attempts at seduction. She led them on, allowed each to pleasure her orally, and left all of them frustrated. Still there was something more that she needed. At first she was unsure of what was lacking but then she met Marvin. On their first date she noticed his poorly disguised interest in her boots. She had on knee high, black leather ones with four inch heels. At the end of the evening, after making him treat her to a lavish dinner at an expensive restaurant, she invited him back to her apartment. Once they'd been there a short while she asked him in a throaty voice if he would removed those boots. He became more tongue tied and fumble fingered than usual as she sat on the couch and extended one leg. The small man straddled it and put his hands on the cool smooth leather. At once he was totally distracted. She raised her foot higher so that it brushed his crotch. Within less than a minute she was gratified to see that not only had she given him an erection, but that it was unimpressively small. It was a plus to have him be hung like a puppy, which would give her one more advantage for crushing his ego. By the time both her boots were removed and she had observed how he surreptitiously stroked them every chance he got, she was convinced he would be the one. When they were wed she could feminize him and along with all the other ways she had to manipulate him, she could also take advantage of his obviously powerful boot fetish. He would be completely in her thrall and she could make him sink lower and lower, torment him with humiliation, and reduce him to a plaything for her cruel entertainment. That night she made sure he was capable at using his mouth on her pussy. Marvin was so eager to please that it took no effort to keep him with his face between her thighs, and to make him follow every instruction she gave for increasing her pleasure. Of course, she gave him no satisfaction in return. Instead, she made it clear that she had been generous to let him serve her. There was a short engagement during which she kept him celibate while teasing him constantly, making him use his mouth on her, and pretending not to notice his obsession with her footwear at the same time she was deepening his addiction to it. By the time they were married he was under her control. On their wedding night she told him to strip to the skin and then she appeared in the bedroom almost naked, her magnificent body uncovered except for tall red boots with spike heels. They had pointed toes and a dull finish. He was mesmerized by them and she finally mentioned it, sitting on the foot of the bed and telling him that he should kneel and touch them so he could discover how well they were made. Of course he was thrilled to obey. The cool Nordic ice queen let him indulge his not-so-secret lust until his tiny dick was straining for release. She pressed the front upper of one boot against his crotch, pushing his member against his soft belly, then set up a gentle rhythmic motion against him. He whimpered and gasped, but made no move to extricate himself from her trap. Marvin inhaled the leathery scent as he gripped her leg below the knee. She told him to move his hips and he did that too, falling instantly into the tempo she had set. Juno whispered soothingly to her new husband, assuring him that what he was doing was acceptable, until he lost touch with the details of the reality around him and was aware only of those irresistible boots, how wonderful it felt to commit frottage against them, and the way his body was demanding that he keep on and on until... until... "Why, Marvin," Juno questioned in a level voice tinged with amusement, "what have you done?" "I... sort of... finished... um... on your boot." "You mean that your tiny dick got overexcited and you emptied your little balls all over my lovely boot?" "Well..." There was no way to deny it. "... yes." "That is so naughty. And on our wedding night. I suppose I'll have to get rid of all my lovely boots to keep it from ever happening again." "NO," he said a bit too loudly. Regaining partial control he went on, "I mean, you don't have to do that. I'm sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?" "Well," she said thoughtfully, as if she hadn't already planned what she wanted to make him do. "I guess you could clean up that mess you made." "All right. I'll go wet a washcloth and..." "Not that way, darling," she gently corrected. "It wouldn't prove you regret what you did and want to make it up to me. If you want to save our honeymoon and keep me from thinking of an annulment, you can just stay down there and do the job with your tongue." "But..." "Unless you'd rather not be with me on this special evening." "I... I'll..." He saw the risks of opposing her and wasn't willing to take them. Besides, he was still under the spell of her exotic footwear. Marvin shuffled back on his knees and lowered his upper body, getting his hands on the carpet, until his face was level with the top of the trail of white cream that was slowly inching down the front of her boot. He cringed inwardly with shame but simultaneously found his surrender strangely appealing. With the two emotions fighting for dominance in his mind, he extended his tongue and began the job. She made him take his time. Having him degrade himself that way and sensing that he was also stimulated by it, had her pussy as wet as it had ever been. After he was done lapping up his own spunk, she lay back and spread her thighs. Draped over the bottom of the mattress, her booted feet still on the floor, the groom on his knees, she told him, "You had your fun, Marvin. It wouldn't be fair to deny me mine. But your tiny pecker is all used up. Isn't it?" "I guess so." "You know so. That means what you have to do now is to get your mouth busy on my pussy. I've told you before how I like you to do it. Make sure it's nice and slow, too. After you've given me several climaxes I'll feel more forgiving about how you nearly ruined our wedding night. And we can discuss me allowing you to have fun with my boots on a regular basis, since you so obviously enjoy it. Go ahead, dear. Start kissing and licking me down there." By the time he was done, an hour or so later, the deal was sealed. But she wanted to take it further, to introduce him to wearing girly things. So Juno produced a box that she said was from her bridal shower. It contained lacy pink panties and sleek fleshtone stockings. "These were a gift from my girlfriend Gretel." She stood there, still naked except for the boots, looking down on him. "I don't want to hurt her feelings by telling her these things are too small for me. But now you can wear them to remind you of how you misbehaved and disappointed me, and how hard you're going to work to make up for it. Isn't that right?" "Me?" He looked at the lingerie she was holding up for his inspection. "Wear those?" "Or spend the night sleeping on the floor. It's your choice, husband dearest." She put a hand on his bare shoulder and stroked his smooth cheek with the panties. He quivered but accepted them and, with her watching closely, stepped into them and pulled them up his slender legs. She mentioned that he would be expected to get rid of his body hair and keep it gone until she was satisfied that he was sincere about being a good husband. Of course, the day he could let it grow back would never come. In fact, she might just have it permanently removed with laser treatments. As he stood there in the panties she handed him the stockings. He sat on an ice cream parlor chair in the corner to roll them up to the tops of his thighs. Marvin was mortified to have to look that way in front of his bride, and yet the thought of jeopardizing their relationship, of losing a woman who was so plainly more than he deserved, and not being able to see her in the boots she had taken to wearing most of the time, it was all more than he could chance. So he allowed her to touch up his face with a minimum of eyebrow pencil, rouge, and lipstick. With how sparingly she had applied it, when she had him look in the mirror he resembled not so much a girl as a simpering sissy. "Please," he pleaded. "I look like I should be mincing around with my lips puckered and my wrists limp." "Excellent suggestions. Let's see you do that. NOW." He opened his mouth to explain that he hadn't meant he should act that way. Before he could speak, however, the futility of it became clear. Instead he told himself he would wait for her to get over the upset of his accidental ejaculation. By tomorrow or very soon after, this would all be forgotten and they would be a happy couple, with him granted full access to her desirable body, and in a state of constant arousal from seeing her in boots all the time. So he pranced around, hands flapping foolishly, lips kissing empty air, as Juno relished his performance. She declared that whenever he was in his girly attire, instead of being called Marvin he would be addressed as Muffin. Her mind filled with the many more embarrassments she had in store for her hamstrung husband. She couldn't wait to begin building his sissy wardrobe. In the weeks that followed she was constantly working on him, belittling him, finding excuses to extend his feminized submission and their one- sided sex life. He would come home from his colorless office job and have to strip at once. There were always girly items laid out for him to don. A typical outfit might consist of a sports bra, which she liked because it laid smoothly over his unmuscular chest, very brief panties, and fuzzy leg warmers. Of course she favored appropriate colors like pink, peach and strawberry. He had to put on his own make-up with her directing. With those clothes she might want dark eye shadow and several coats of lip gloss. Juno made plenty of rules. She insisted that he spent too much time in the bathroom and used that as her reason for restricting his visits there. Marvin had to come and ask her before he was given permission. She also decided that he needed his diet regulated. Sometimes she would make him eat a huge amount of something he hated, like Brussel sprouts. Other times he was given lots of high calorie sweets because -- though she didn't tell him -- Juno wanted him to gain a few pounds. She envisioned him with a plump bottom and maybe man boobs. One night she had him in bed with her. Juno wore only panties and a new pair of boots, tall brown ones with chunky three inch heels. Marvin had on a see-through nightie that ended at his hips, along with a matching thong. That went well with his still hairless body. His face was adorned with cosmetics, this time including a pale foundation and long drawn-on eyelashes plus outlined lips filled in with a lipstick called Plum Passion. He was on his knees between her extended legs, leaning forward and supporting himself with his hands. His upper body was elevated enough that she could easily tease his nipples through the thin material of his top. He moaned and gasped as she kept him in a state of constant arousal. At the same time she was talking to him. "Honestly, Muffin, I don't think you appreciate how much I try to help you. For instance, I've indulged your unnatural love of boots. Right?" "Well... yes." "And because you have such a laughably small pecker that shoots off much too soon, I've taught you to be a skilled pussy licker. True?" "You have, but..." She made a shushing sound. "I try every day to make you a better person, the kind of husband I deserve, and all you do is give me backtalk and complaints." "It's just that you keep saying..." "AHA. That's exactly what I'm talking about. Maybe your annoying mouth would be better used for what it usually does in bed. Hmmm?" "Yes, Juno." He reached toward her panties and got his fingers under the elastic waistband. When he tried to pull them down she snapped at him. "Muffin! What are you trying to do, you stupid sissy?" "I... I'm taking off your panties. So I can... you know." "Eat my pussy. Except that I left them on for a reason. It's because you've been rushing again lately. It's to help you take your time." She went on with barely controlled exasperation. "On top of everything else, you shot off your mouth and ruined my mood. So how about if you shut up, make an effort to compensate me for your lack of a real cock by getting your mouth where it belongs. In fact, how about if you just stop blabbering at me all the time, and only speak when spoken to. Or if you feel you absolutely have something worth saying, show some basic respect and indicate with a few simple gestures that you want to talk." She raised her eyebrows inquiringly. "Is that too much for me to ask?" He was going to say something but realized that it would constitute disobeying the order she had just given. So he nodded slowly. She gave him a slight smile, as if to indicate that he was being granted another chance, an opportunity to redeem himself. Marvin didn't quite understand what he had done wrong. His wife always made him feel like he had erred and owed her an apology and a better effort. He brought his face down obediently and delivered a light kiss on the gusset of her panties. She drew her legs up, which raised her knees and put those sleek boots alongside him. Marvin wanted to reach out and touch them. They were so close that he could inhale the heady scent of leather. But he didn't dare to do it because it might trigger another of her calm and controlled scoldings which, despite their lack of heat, left him riddled with guilt. Marvin began to lick the crotch of his bride's panties, tasting her feminine center through the material. For half a minute she just lay there experiencing what it was like. Juno decided that was a good thing. She could tell already that it wasn't going to make her finish, or at least not for quite a while. She could keep her wuss of a spouse down there, his efforts making her erogenous zones hum the entire time, and he wouldn't even have the sense of accomplishment he usually got from making her climax repeatedly. She was also delighted with herself for that sudden inspiration she'd had about making him not speak. Already she could see that it would have endless advantages. At the moment, lying there with her nipples hard and her face flushed and warm, she decided to use one of them. If he couldn't state his side of anything, he would simply have to accept hers. "This was a great idea I had," she congratulated herself. "You can practice your bedroom skills without hurrying. Of course it will be frustrating for me not to be able to orgasm like I'm used to doing, but I'm willing to make that sacrifice to help you." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Try pressing your lips hard against my lips. And yes, I mean my pussy lips. I can tell that you're really enjoying this. And I've noticed how you keep touching the soft delicate things I find for you to wear. So, obviously, you get a thrill from that too. Well, I want you to be happy, so I'm going to make an extra effort to give you plenty of face time between my legs, and to find even more silky, satiny, lacy goodies for you to wear, Muffin. Plus, like always, I'll cater to your love of my boots. You definitely enjoyed yourself last night while I was binge watching that show I like, and I let you have some of my footwear to fondle and rub your baby dick against. Which pair was it? Oh yes, those thigh-high ones that fold over at the top. It was like you were on a date with them, kneeling over in the corner and kissing them, rubbing one and then the other, dry humping them over and over. Sorry I couldn't let you finish, but I've noticed you do a better job when you go down on me, if I keep you horny. It's terrific that I'm learning what you like the most and making sure you get plenty of it." Between licks he kissed the insides of her full thighs. Marvin wanted to tell her that he didn't agree with everything she was saying. That it was uncomfortable to not be allowed to ejaculate when he needed to. And that it was mortifying to have to spend several hours with a pair of empty boots while she could see him. Why couldn't she give him some privacy? And the whole practice of dressing him girly and making him look and act like a sissy resulted in nothing but endless shame. If only he was free to express himself. The worst part of everything that was happening, however, was what it was doing to his mind. Marvin could feel himself changing. He couldn't stop thinking about his stunning wife, her growing collection of boots, his servitude to her body, and how strictly she was able to control any aspect of his life that she chose. When he was at work, wearing panties and stockings under his office attire, he couldn't prevent her from dominating his thoughts. On the way home he found himself thinking about what he would have to wear once he got there, the cosmetics she might make him put on, and the effeminate way he would have to walk, sit and gesture. What unsettled him the most was that, at some level, he now craved all those things. On the surface, if he had been given the option he would have stopped everything except his daily contact with her boots, though even that he wanted to make changes in. At a deeper level, though he hated to admit it to himself, he was becoming dependent on all that as part of his life, was even anticipating it, in some strange way longing for every minute of his feminization, degradation and subservience. She had made him hate it all but also need it. He couldn't explain any of that -- or deny it. As if sensing how conflicted he was, she told him, "You're making a good effort. So it's all right if you put your hands on my boots while you're down there. Go ahead. I know how much you want to." When his palms and fingers made contact with the inviting leather he sighed loudly. Marvin kept licking but allowed his hands to run up and down the sleek surfaces. He moaned and licked harder. His wife had to tell him to ease up. She suggested that maybe he shouldn't be allowed to caress her footwear. He whimpered and she told him she would let him try to regain his control. He pressed his lips against her wet panty front, which was by then infused with her female scent. Marvin kissed her covered pussy repeatedly to show his thanks. Then he returned to lapping it. While he lavished attention on her sopping panty front, she whispered huskily, "This is delightful, darling. We're going to have to do it all the time. If you can't make me cum like usual, I'll never be able to get enough. So you'll be able to keep worshipping my puss the way you love to, for a long time. And I have another idea for extending your fun. Get into the missionary position, Muffin." When he did that she began playing with his nipples again, making him pant from need. "Mmmm, isn't this nice? And listen to how you're responding. I'll make sure to do this every chance I get. Plus, you've put on a few pounds and you're getting man boobs. Or should I say sissy boobs? Anyway, it makes them more fun to fiddle with. And look at. I wonder what we can do to show them off to the best advantage. We'll get back to that later. I'm going to roll over in a half a minute. Then you can lavish some attention on my ass. You'll like that. Won't you?" He wouldn't but was too well conditioned to say it. She answered for him, "I know you will. And because I want it to be as good as possible for you, I'll even let you uncover my butt." She wet her fingertips to give his receptive nipples one more round of persuasive teasing. "I know you can't wait to get started back there." Juno rolled over and presented her gorgeous broad backside to him. Marvin uncovered those smooth hemispheres. His lips were quivering. He didn't want to do this. But as if invisible hands were pushing him from behind, he slowly bent forward and pressed his mouth to one cheek and then the other. She encouraged him to do more. His self respect had been supplanted by a desperate need to make his wife happy, no matter the cost. He moved is face to the deep cleft between her buttocks, pushed his nose deep into the tight humid space, and kissed his way higher and lower. Then he settled on her tight rosebud and went from kissing to licking to rimming to probing. Juno sighed loudly. He was gratified that he had provoked that reaction. The damage he was doing to his personal esteem was overridden by his single-minded obsession with giving her what she wanted. He kept at his demeaning task. She bent her legs up and told him he could put his hands on her boots again. That was the final move that sent him into a bottomless downward spiral of uncontrolled slavery to her will. He held her ankles and touching the leather elevated his arousal to new heights. Not until he had utterly surrendered himself to his ego-destroying ass service, snuffling and groaning as he did it, was she satisfied with the results. "All right, Muffin," Juno decided. "Pull my panties back up so I can treat you to another half hour of licking them in front, keeping me on the brink, and leaving me hungry for more later on." In the days that followed she made frequent comments on his weight gain, even while having him eat more foods calculated to keep those pounds on and add a few more. She took to pinching his increasingly plump bottom and fondling his modest but unmissable faux breasts. Juno also found some lingerie to show off his growing assets. There was a diaphanous top like a harem girl might wear, sized for a very small bust. With that she combined thong panties. Those left his soft rump uncovered for her to admire, talk about, and playfully swat. She made sure to keep reinforcing the idea that all this was something he wanted and added the assertion that he had been a secret sissy since before they met. Juno raised so many doubts about his manhood that he eventually began to believe that she was putting him in touch with his true nature. Now it was time for one more event which she hoped would make it impossible for him to ever assert his free will or see himself as a real man. On Friday night when he returned from work and stripped, she had only three items for him to wear. There was a red and black satin corset with attached garters, and a pair of fishnet stockings, along with crimson shoes with two inch stilettoes. She'd made him practice in similar heels enough that he could stand and walk in them, but not so much that he could do it with much confidence. Once he was in the corset he saw that it had only half cups, which supported his soft chest's halves and made them resemble real breasts. Juno had done what she said and found a way to show off his male bosoms. He got into the stockings and attached the garters to them. Then he stepped into the heels and circled the room cautiously. Juno had him put on basic make- up and brush his hair, which was now collar length, and use some body giving product on it. The end result was that, from the neck up he was obviously a male trying to appear female. His plumpish body also suggested an effort to look girly, especially because it was so smooth and devoid of hair. Best of all, from his wife's perspective, were those sissy boobs, held up and thrust forward. She made him rouge the nipples so they were more colorfully visible. Then she got behind him and began tightening the corset. He had imagined that it was already fully laced because it was squeezing his middle uncomfortably. As she worked he discovered how wrong he had been. Juno kept tugging until Marvin felt like he was being cut in half. His waist had been reduced by several inches and he had to breath shallowly. It was obvious that he couldn't bend forward naturally and, when she had him move around, that he was taking smaller steps. While his back was turned, his bride allowed herself a wide grin of triumph. But this was only the first part of her plan for completely emasculating him. Juno made him stay with her while she changed into a short dress that hugged her impressive curves. Then she had him kneel to put her boots over her shapely feet and sturdy calves. It was tricky for him to get onto his knees but he managed it. She had brown boots with silvery metal toes and three-inch, narrow heels. His hands trembled with excitement as he got them all the way up. His arousal was tempered by the punishing snugness of that corset. She also made him buff the boots with a small chamois, keeping him at it much longer than necessary, making him perform that leather-on-leather task until the doorbell rang. Marvin's head came up and his expression was startled. His wife said, "Sounds like my guests are here. Go answer the door, Muffin." He was in a state of shock. Surely she didn't expect him to expose himself to whoever was there, not while in this shameful sissy state. But she calmly repeated her order and he got to his feet with difficulty, legs threatening to buckle. Marvin went toward the door, his combination of heels and corset making his gait more feminine than ever. Worst of all, his bald crotch and undersized genitals were on display. When he got there and put his hand on the knob he froze for a moment. From behind him his bride said with cool authority, "Muffin, let them in." His cheeks burned with humiliation as he opened the door slightly and saw two women standing there. He recognized them vaguely as friends of his wife. Both of them were full figured like her, and wore short dresses that showed off their bodies, like she had on. Along with all that they sported eye-catching boots. The first, who he belatedly remembered was Gretel, wore tall black ones with slender four inch heels. The other, who his wife greeted as Olga, had chosen red ones with blocky two inch heels. Marvin felt lightheaded from the combination of his disgraceful appearance and the presence of these stunning women with their seductive footwear. He swayed slightly as they pushed the door the rest of the way open and went past him. As the trio of females made themselves comfortable seated around the living room, Juno told her spouse to go and pour three glasses of wine. He went numbly to the kitchen and did as he was told, having enough presence of mind to set the drinks on a round serving tray. When he returned, the ladies were chatting as if he wasn't even there. He went to the guests first and then to his wife, offering each a stemmed glass, which they accepted without acknowledging him, as if he was a servant in his own home. As he stepped back to wait for whatever came next, he tuned in on what Juno was saying. "Yes, I decided I had to do it. The papers are all prepared for Muffin here to sign. I mean, she's become such a silly thing that I can't trust her with any financial matters. You know she'll be relieved once she signs to put our accounts, the house, and the cars, along with everything else, in my name solely. And I'll be having her salary deposited directly into one of those accounts. I'm sure she'll be more comfortable not having to worry her empty head over money or property. I mean, really, a sissy like her would be lost trying to make the decisions that requires." Marvin couldn't believe what he was hearing. She intended to take control off all their assets. He would be left penniless, dependent on her for even a little pocket money. A feminized man with modest boobs and a plump soft bottom, always dressed girly at home, with lingerie under his work clothes at the office, and never having more money than she permitted him, which he knew wouldn't be much. He felt more helpless than ever. The women sipped their wine and congratulated Juno on her plan. They both said that Marvin, who they too referred to as Muffin, would be better off that way. He was trying to organize his thoughts, to put together some sort of response, but couldn't stop looking at those voluptuous women, and especially at their alluring boots. "And you can see," Juno went on, "that she's less interested in anything serious than she is in what you're wearing below your knees. The simpering darling is obsessed with boots. She worships them... literally." Just when Marvin thought this scene couldn't become any more bizarre, his wife told him, "Show them what I mean, Muffin. Go to Gretel and Olga so you can demonstrate your mania for boots. Go on. My friends are waiting." His head was spinning as he automatically went first to Gretel and got down on his knees before her. The corset squeezed him mercilessly and forced him to keep his back straight. He was shamefully aware that she could see the absence of any hair on his pink skin. And her eyes kept straying to the juncture of his thighs, where his immature male parts were so blatantly exposed. As his fingertips touched the tops of Gretel's boots and slid downward, she said, "I'm not surprised that he turned out to be such a sissy. After all, look at how tiny his dick is. How could anyone with such a measly little wee wee ever think of himself as a man?" Her stinging words were barely audible to his conscious mind as his boot fetish took over. He fondled them and, without being told to, bent over to kiss them lovingly. Marvin mewled with shame as he did it but his shrimp dick was suddenly hard, showing off how it barely enlarged when erect. Olga snapped her fingers and commanded imperiously, "Over here, princess. Mine need some attention, too." He shuffled to her on his knees, short penis bobbing. When he got there his mind was completely in sub space. He held one boot for long seconds and then wordlessly moved himself closer, until his penis was against it, bent upward so the sensitive underside was in contact with the cool leather. He murmured wordlessly to himself as he began to hump the irresistible object of his attention. In slow motion he made love to it, torn between his urgent desire and deep shame. But he couldn't stop himself. Olga looked down her nose at him and told Marvin to keep his eyes open. She wanted to maximize his disgrace. "Look at you, Little Miss Muffin," she said with a leering grin. "Such a twisted sissy. With such a tiny dick." The seated woman laughed heartily at his humiliation. It was soon time for Juno to take her biggest step of the evening. She made her husband back away before he might ejaculate on Olga's boot. "Now, Muffin," she said soothingly, "I know how much you enjoy eating my pussy. Right?" His head was swirling with conflict but he said, "Yes, dear." "And there's a limit to how much of that I need. So my friends here have agreed to let you do the same for them this evening. In fact, they were helpful enough not to wear panties. So all you have to do is go to each one, push up her dress, and get to work. Isn't that thoughtful of me, and kind of Gretel and Olga?" Marvin shuddered. He definitely didn't want to do it. Not dressed as he was, looking as if he had budding breasts. And not with all of them watching. Even so, he said again, "Yes, dear." To keep her happy he added, "Thank you, dear." Juno chuckled. "My pleasure. Or should l say, Gretel's pleasure. And then Olga's. Now get started, Muffin darling. And make sure to take your time. I wouldn't want to have to tan your bottom in front of my friends." He put his hands on the carpet and crawled to Gretel. When he was directly in front of her he gingerly raised the hem of her dress, baring her full thighs. She parted her upper legs and he was confronted by her mound, decorated by neatly trimmed golden curls. Marvin moved nearer still until his face was in the V of her legs and he was nose-to-labia with her womanhood. With every breath he inhaled feminine musk. His head swam as he extended his tongue and got a taste of the woman. Her flavor was stronger than his wife's. "Because I knew you'd like her to be extra pungent," Juno explained, "I asked Gretel to not bother with any feminine hygiene yesterday or today. So have a delicious meal but make sure to give her what she needs at the same time." Marvin lapped at the unwashed slit, probed it, and sucked her slick clit. He kept it up while she sipped her wine and swished the liquid around in her mouth. He was very aware of the contrast between what she was enjoying and what he was enduring. Gretel kept him down there for at least twenty minutes before she urged him to speed up and put her over the top. When he did it she had a loud, hip-quaking orgasm that produced added wetness. He slurped up everything and swallowed it without complaint. When he was at last done and drawing a deep breath, Olga made a throat clearing sound. He turned to her and she was already inching her hem up and moving her knees apart and then together repeatedly, signaling him to come to her. He went on hands and knees, the corset again digging into his middle. When he got close he smelled her fishy odor, even stronger than Gretel's. His eyes watered and his nose twitched but he had no choice. Marvin got busy nuzzling and licking, making her squirm her wide bottom. She made him switch to kissing her inner thighs so she could relax enough to prolong her pleasure. After the third time she had him back off, she was ready to be sent over the edge. Olga especially liked to have her large button-of-love pampered, which he did by gently sucking it, alternating that with vigorous rubbing of his tongue against its underside. Soon she was on the verge and arched her back. She swore loudly and he took that to mean she was ready to be launched into the sexual stratosphere. Marvin sucked her clit hard, tightening his lips on it at the same time. The combination worked and she had a loud animated orgasm, making him feel like he would drown from her plentiful juices. He tongued her through a long afterglow before sitting back on his heels, panting softly. Before he could recover, his bride wanted to know, "You haven't forgotten me, have you?" He was disoriented. It didn't seem possible that he had just given pussy devotionals to those two desirable women. And now he was expected to do the same for his wife, with the others witnessing it. His tongue was tired. He crawled slowly toward her, got into the bay of her long legs, and brought his face close to her sexual center. Like the others she had no panties on under her dress. "There's my sniveling sissy," she said cheerily. "Blinking back tears but unable to resist what I have for him. Isn't that right, Muffin? Doesn't my snatch make your mouth water?" He thought about it and realized he was salivating. Was he actually hungry for her that way? Or was she just putting the idea into his head? He couldn't be sure. It was hard to be certain of a lot of things by then. Like why did it feel so right for him to be in corset, stockings and heels? Marvin gave her mound a lingering kiss before he started to flick his tongue against her clitoris. She let out a long sigh that everyone could hear. As he continued pampering her puss, she began to speak, her words level and persuasive, almost hypnotic. "You're going to do a good job, sissy. Now accept that this will always be the center of your sex life. Of course, you'll also be thrilled to give intimate kisses to my ass. Won't you? And to please my friends, like Gretel and Olga, and any others I say. Hmmm? Plus, you'll sign those papers I had written up. Without questioning anything about them. After all, you're just an effete pantywaist. Aren't you? And not capable of managing money or owning anything beyond the lovely wardrobe I've been building for you. Who needs choosing what they watch on television or picking what they can eat, when they're more interested in lingerie and heels and gaudy jewelry? I'm going to buy you a gift. A pair of oversized plastic earrings. The kind they call door knockers. When you wear them they'll always be swinging and bumping the sides of your neck, even brushing your shoulders, so you'll constantly be aware of them, one more reminder of what a total pansy wimp you've become, and how that's what you were always meant to be." Both what she was saying and what he was doing were adding to her mounting excitement. As she approached an eruption she gripped the his head and mashed his lower face against her very wet split-peach. He uncontrollably kept licking, probing, and sucking, all the while sipping her freely flowing juices. Marvin kept at it like he had no other purpose in life which, at that moment, was true. He had crossed a line and was now fully in thrall to her, unable to free himself from his submissive sissy role, shamed by it at the same time he was hooked on it. Juno had a shuddering climax that produced even more secretions from her overstimulated pussy. When at last her libidinous rush subsided, she knew she had won. Marvin would sign everything he owned over to her and be satisfied to remain a slave to her body... and her growing collection of boots. Even at that moment his eager hands went to the twin sheaths of leather that encased her lower legs, and he stroked them enthusiastically. Juno made a show of shaking her head and saying, as if she was surrendering to his insistent demands, "All right, Muffin. You can hump one of my boots. Go on. But don't take too long. I'm sure my guests don't want to spend all their time watching you have your perverted fun." He sniffled. This was all so embarrassing. Even so, a moment later he had gotten his immature dick against her right boot and was slowly rubbing against it. She reached down and toyed with his nipples. The way that corset pushed up on the soft flesh of his chest, forming those faux boobs, made it easy. He gasped and his hips worked faster. She had control of him and rushed him toward emptying his small hairless balls. Marvin mewled and acted like a rutting animal. He utterly disgraced himself as he went into a frenzy that ended as it had to, with him spurting against her boot, much sooner than he wished to, and making one of his familiar messes. Suddenly his sex drive was gone. But his wife reminded him that he was still expected to clean up the cream that soiled his wife's fabulous footwear. Gretel and Olga were eyeing him intently. He fought not to weep as he bent to his unappetizing task. As Marvin lapped up his own spunk and choked it down, the women discussed what they were seeing. "Amazing," said Gretel. "What kind of man trades his sex life with a gorgeous woman for the right to hump her boot like a horny dog?" "And then," Olga went on, "to use his tongue to clean up his squirts. Ugh." "I'll tell you what kind of man," Juno offered. "One who is a twisted sissy. Who has a tiny dick that he knows could never satisfy any woman. And who has done everything he could to reduce himself to a caricature of a girl, devoted to playing his sick games for his own selfish pleasure. He's just lucky I'm so sympathetic and tolerate so much." Marvin wanted to contradict her. But there was her rule against him speaking out of turn. And the deep mortification of what he had just done. Plus the fact that he looked and acted like a complete sissy. It was impossible for him to deny what they had said about him. He finally believed that he was an unredeemable loser, a hopeless candy-ass. The women understood what had happened, that he had been made to accept his new identity, not by force or threats, but because he had been convinced -- no matter how unfairly or inaccurately -- that this was who he truly was and always would be. "Of course," Juno made sure to say, "if he wants to try to reassert himself, I won't do anything to stand in his way. There's always the chance that he can turn his life around and be a real man again. He'll just have to make a dedicated effort." Her husband's eyes widened. He accepted that hope. Now he would keep trying. Everyone else knew his effort was doomed but his bride wanted him to live with that false dream. It would be more fun for her if he kept trying and failing. Over and over and over. She allowed herself a secret smile when he wasn't looking. Her life with Muffin was going to be even more entertaining now than it had been up until this very special evening. She couldn't wait to get started on the new torments that would suggest themselves to her every day and night. ********* (This one is especially for Boot Lover. And thanks to Simone for her reviews of some earlier stories. It's always nice to learn that readers are enjoying my past efforts.)