Helper Sissy Hubby
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Chubby Sissy Hubby by Throne
It was a black lace, stretch teddy, with wired cups. Or rather they were
half-cups. I looked at it lying on the bed and thought I would start
crying. Did my wife Tyra honestly expect me to squeeze into that? When
I heard her approaching our bedroom a chill of dread filled me. She came
into the room and put a hand on my shoulder. All I was wearing was a
short diaphanous robe with a string tie at the waist. I clutched its
front and pulled the halves together. She chuckled in my ear.
"What's the matter, Leslie? Don't you like what I picked out for you to
show off in? Afraid it'll show off your weight gain? Don't you think
it's appropriate for the occasion? Are you afraid my visitors won't like
it?"
"P... please," I said miserably. "I can't have your lady friends see me
in that... that..."
"That sexy seductive bit of nothing?" she offered. "I've already told
them that I found out about your naughty hobby and that I'm just helping
you to become the sissy you've always longed to be."
"But that's not... I don't really want to..."
"No-no, now." She waved away my concerns. Tyra is so desirable. Tall
and full-figured, with a full thrusting bust, flaring hips, a jutting
round bottom, fleshy thighs, and large firm calves. That was what had
drawn me to her from the beginning. She had on a sports bra and yoga
pants. Smiling down at me from her superior height, she said, "The
alternative is to tell them that I've had to turn you into my mincing
girly-boy against your will, and reveal some of our bedroom secrets.
Would you rather have them find out how weak willed and confused you are,
and how much you've forced me to take over your life? I'll do whichever
you prefer."
"It's just that... I never thought..."
"I know. It's the same as you keep telling me. All you want is to
occasionally put on panties and prance around when I'm not home. But now
that I know that Lester sometimes turns into Leslie, I'm taking you
further. Helping you to fulfill your dreams."
"I was happy just... you know... doing what you said."
"You only thought you were happy. Once I get you past this silly display
of reluctance, I know you'll really blossom. You have to accept my
assistance, Leslie. And I can give the girls either version of your
story. What should I say to them?"
My lips quivered. Tyra just couldn't be convinced she was pushing me
past my limits. And she thought the reason I didn't want her friends to
see me was because I hadn't admitted my real feelings to myself. The
real reason was that I was happy being Lester almost all the time and
only needed to indulge my desire for panties and stockings now and then.
Having them see me would be utterly mortifying. But I could never get
her to change her thinking. And now those women were due to arrive in
less than an hour.
I surrendered and said, in my faint Leslie voice, "Yes, dear. You can
tell them I want all this." I nearly choked on those words. She likes
me to show appreciation so I added, "Thank you for your support."
"No problem," she assured me. "Now let me help you into that gorgeous
lingerie."
She untied the filmy robe and slipped it off my shoulders. I stood
there, naked, very aware of the absence of any body hair. When my wife
had gotten me treatments so I would be smooth all over, I assumed the
effect would be temporary. Since then I'd learned, to my horror, that it
was permanent. She ran her fingertips appreciatively over my soft
hairless chest.
"I think you've gained another pound or two. That diet is giving you the
girly curves you crave."
"Yes, dear," I told her even thought I wasn't happy about it.
Months ago, repeatedly saying she knew I'd be happier with feminine
contours, she had started me on a high calorie and fat-heavy eating
regimen. I had piled on the pounds rapidly, until now my formerly trim
shape was gone, replaced by a plump chin, chubby arms, a protruding
belly, wobbly thighs, and a fat rear end. Worst of all, I was developing
man boobs. She liked to joke about how, with my weight gain and hairless
state, all pink and squishy, I resembled a big baby.
She took the teddy and got down on one knee, holding up the lightweight
garment for me to step into. I got both feet through the openings and
she worked it up my overweight legs. Tyra snugged it into place. She
tucked my smaller-than-average genitals down and back, where they were
easily held in place. Then she tugged the teddy up so I could get my
arms through it. Finally she zipped it up in back. When she came around
front again she eyed my chest critically. After a few adjustments of the
top she was satisfied.
"It's everything I'd hoped for," she self-congratulated. "Those half-
cups hold up your boobies and show them off perfectly." She gave my
nipples a playful double tweak. "You must be ecstatic. Or will be when
you see yourself in the mirror."
She patted my bottom, encouraging me to go to the full length mirror
mounted by the closet. Sure enough, not only was my doughy figure shown
off unflatteringly, but those unwanted male breasts were put onto
display, pink and given the size of oranges by how they were lifted. I
shuddered inwardly at the unmanly sight I made.
"Now," she said, "let's pretty up your face and fix your hair, Leslie."
There was nothing I could say except, "Yes, dear."
As I moved to the vanity table my chest mounds rippled, much to my shame.
If only she would take me off that awful diet. I sat my pillow-bottom on
the round chair and looked at myself in the mirror. I'd never had much
of a beard but now there was none. My eyebrows were thinned out
slightly. It wasn't enough to make people gape at me when I was out but
I always got second glances. And I think some of the people at the
office where I work were wondering about me.
Tyra applied foundation and went to work with cosmetics. I had to see my
face being changed from passably masculine to undeniably feminine. I
wrung my hands and tried not to let my emotions show. She doesn't make
me grow my hair long but there's enough for her to back-brush with gel in
it and achieve a girly effect. With my soft features and the beginning
of a double chin I resembled a chubby young lady. The make-up was
overdone just enough to guarantee I would feel extra shame when her
friends got an eyeful of me.
My wife had me stand and mince around. She decided I needed stockings
and selected a pair of fishnets with elastic tops. Then there were black
heels, which thankfully were only two inches. Finally she let me pick my
own jewelry. The catch was that if I didn't choose something on the
flashy side she would say I was in denial about my true tastes and give
me substitutions anyway. So I selected large plastic hoop earrings,
matching bracelets, and a ring with an oversized plastic 'gem' on it.
The earrings were screw-on ones because she hasn't had my ears pieced --
yet. Also, I think she almost seems to enjoy tightening them more than
is comfortable. I had to do some more walking around, adding extra sway
to my hips, and then she declared me ready to meet my new public.
The women were due to arrive soon. I paced around nervously. Tyra said
I needed to eat something to settle my nerves but that it could wait
until her guests arrived. All too soon the doorbell rang. At least she
didn't make me answer it. Instead, I had to hide in the dining room
while she welcomed her friends and took them to the living room. I tried
to adjust my top to somehow make it present my chest less dramatically
but that was impossible. After all, that was what the teddy had been
designed to do. And the sheer panel in front was taut over my expanding
belly. Not only that, but the rear was merely a thong, which left my
unmanly buttocks exposed.
After the women had chatted for a few minutes my wife called, "Leslie,
dear. Come in here and meet everybody."
I shuddered at the prospect of being gawked at. Still, there was no way
to avoid it. I left the dining room and went to where they were waiting.
All conversation stopped as I walked in. All eyes were on me. There
were three women. They must have been from Tyra's BBW support group, as
they had the same zaftig figure as my wife. My humiliation was mixed
with lust at seeing that trio of plus-size beauties.
"Ladies," my wife said, motioning toward me. "This is Leslie. She used
to be my husband Lester but once I found out how much she wanted to look
and act like a female, I spared no effort to make it happen. She's
getting to live her dream."
Then she introduced me to the others. They were Annie, Barb and Zell.
Annie said to me, "I can see you're succeeding at being all girly. I
want to get that teddy in my size. Come over here, honey, so I can get a
closer look at all your pink softness."
She had dark red lipstick, which to me suggested a wanton sexual
appetite. I went to her reluctantly. She made me stand directly in
front of her, put my hands on my hips, and bend forward at the waist.
That put my bust within easy reach.
She asked Tyra, "Are her nipples sensitive? Is it okay if I test them?"
"They're more receptive than mine," my wife assured her. "And I'm sure
she'd love to have you play with them. She's such a slut."
Annie reached up to capture the ends of my boobs between her forefingers
and thumbs. She rolled them gently, sending waves of stimulation through
me. I moaned in spite of myself and couldn't keep from wriggling my
hips.
Annie chuckled and said, "You really get off on this. Don't you?"
If I didn't want my wife to reveal how she controlled my life and that I
was too weak-willed to fight back, I had to go along with the fiction
that I wanted all this. At that moment I didn't want the shame Annie was
causing but I also didn't want the pleasure she was giving me to stop.
"Yes," I told her in my high soft voice. "It feels so good. Please keep
doing it."
She laughed and took away her hands. "Maybe we can play some more later.
But I can't monopolize you, sweetie. The others all want a turn, I'm
sure."
"Me next," called Barb. She had dark bangs, which is a look I find
irresistible. "Come over here and sit by me."
She patted a spot next to her on the sofa. As I lowered myself to sit
she slipped her hand under me, unnoticed. I yelped in surprise and all
the women laughed. Barb made no effort to remove her hand. Instead she
felt my wide cushiony bottom. I knew better than to try to escape. As
accustomed as I was to anticipating Tyra's wants and trying to satisfy
them, I instinctively rose up just enough that Barb could explore my
entire backside. She pawed and kneaded it, in no hurry to be done. I
whimpered from upset but realized the sound could be mistaken for desire.
The auburn-haired woman gave me a parting pinch and told me give Zell a
chance.
The last female wore glasses with large frames that drew attention to her
emerald eyes. The eyewear had a studious or businesslike appearance,
which contrasted with her lush figure and the way she licked her lips at
my approach.
Zell said, "You're so smooth all over. How do you manage that?"
"I... had the hair removed..." As much as I didn't want to share the
rest of it, I didn't want to irritate Tyra by slipping out of character.
"I had it done permanently. It makes me feel so femme. I'm so happy
that none of that awful man-hair will ever grow back," I lied.
"So you're totally committed to becoming as girly as you can."
It was time for an even bigger untruth. "Absolutely. That's why I put
myself on a weight-gain diet. I want tits and a big butt."
"Well, you've made a successful start. Tyra told us about your calorie
quest, so the three of us got together and decided to each bring you a
fattening treat, as a surprise." She looked over at my spouse. "You
don't mind, do you, dear?"
"Not at all. The last thing I want to do is interfere with Leslie while
she's on her yellow brick road to happiness. My job is just to help her
on her journey."
Zell smiled at me and opened her capacious shoulder bag. From it she
took a box of six cream-filled Wing Dings. "Here you go, sweet cheeks.
Gobble them all down."
I looked toward my wife, hoping she would allow me to eat one and save
the rest, but she just grinned maliciously. I opened the box, unwrapped
the first one, and stuffed the end into my mouth. As I chewed and
swallowed, Annie was producing something from her own bag. It was a
package of cheese sticks, which I realized immediately wouldn't combine
well with what I was already eating. She motioned me nearer and got one
ready for me. As soon as I had forced down an entire Wing Ding, I
started on the cheese stick, a fried concoction of dairy product, grease,
salt and added fat. By the time I was halfway through that, Barb was
already summoning me to her. What she had brought was a quart of cheap
pineapple-flavored soda, which turned out to be warm and flat. I opened
it and took a long swallow. At least it would wash down the food. My
stomach was already protesting from the uneasy mix of choices. And there
was so much more for me to consume.
"So," Zell asked my wife, "is Leslie any good for sex? I mean, being a
sissy and stuffing his face all the time?"
"Well, he's no good for regular sex. But food isn't the only thing he
overeats. I got him started using his mouth on my pussy and that's been
a big success." To me she said, "Hasn't it, blubber butt?"
I nodded. Had she really just revealed that? And I was too deep into
backing her up to share the truth about how I felt. Around a mouthful of
food I managed to say, "That's right. My wife makes me... do that... and
doesn't let me have... intercourse." That wasn't a lie. But I
desperately wanted to tell the rest of the story. I took a glug of soda
to clear my mouth and instead told them, "Tyra is totally supportive of
everything I'm trying to accomplish."
Barb wanted to know, "Is your sissy husband that good at playing the pink
harmonica?"
"Like you wouldn't believe."
Annie joined in with, "And he likes doing it?"
"Loves it. Can't get enough of having her face between my thighs."
"So..." Annie said thoughtfully, "if there was another woman for him to
use his skills on, that would be a good thing for him."
"Oh," Tyra said with sudden understanding. "Are you volunteering to help
Leslie?"
"Well, if your pantywaist honestly wants it..."
Everyone's attention went to me. My cheeks were bulging with food. I
decided that if I tried to retreat from this awful situation, my wife
would simply find some way to get me stuck in it again. If I protested
that none of this was what I wanted, she would probably tell them that
was a big part of my fantasy, to be an unwilling participant. In my
mind's ear I could hear her saying just that, and making them believe it.
So I tried to appear enthused and nodded vigorously.
Barb offered, "I'd take some of that too."
Zell made it unanimous with, "I'm in too. But I guess we'd have to
figure out when to do it and all."
"You know," Tyra decided out loud, "I'd hate to have you all make
separate trips back here without knowing if his technique was to your
tastes. I mean, I'm sure he'll approve of how YOU all taste." They
laughed at that. "But why should I have you each make a special trip
before you even know if his style works for you? How about if we just
let you three give his face a test ride now?"
This couldn't be happening. I was still gorging on that unwanted food,
which was overfilling my stomach and making me queasy. Because Barb had
let the soda lose its carbonation, I didn't even have the consolation of
it producing burps. It took an effort for me not to moan from the
growing discomfort. To me it looked as if my tummy was bulging, though
that might have just been my imagination at work. The visitors watched
me with renewed interest, now that they were expecting intimate contact
and lots of pleasure. I tried not to let my upset show. At long last I
was down to the last Wing Ding and final cheese stick, along with the
dregs of that unappetizing soft drink. OMG, talk about overeating. I
was extra aware of my recent weight increase, especially my fat bottom
and those shameful man boobs, so well advertised by my black lace,
stretch teddy, which was getting plenty of stretching.
Tyra snapped her fingers at me. "Ups-a-daisy, lovely Leslie. On your
feet. That's a good girl. Now give those bubbies a shake for all your
new friends to see. Your soon-to-be-very-special-friends."
I rose unsteadily to my feet and gave my chest a halfhearted up-and-down
jogging, which made my insides feel even worse. The women watched me
avidly.
Annie wanted to know, "Who gets to use the sissy first?"
"You're the one who so helpfully thought of it, so move to the front of
the line."
Her mouth, with that dark red lipstick, curved up in a devilish grin. As
she got up, the others' attention flicked back and forth between her and
me. All three women were stunning, with their generously padded figures.
Under different circumstances seeing them could have been such a positive
experience. But at that moment, in the depths of my humiliation, wearing
that teddy and with my face made up, having to maintain the illusion that
this was what I craved, and having been made to gorge on junk food, it
was quite the opposite. The thought of using my mouth on three pussies
made me more nauseated than ever. Annie took my hand and towed me along
behind her.
Tyra called out, "The guest bedroom is at the end of the hall, on the
right. Please turn down the duvet. Don't worry about getting wet spots
on the bottom sheet. I'll have Leslie do a load of laundry later on.
She adores housework. It makes her feel so wifely."
At that point Annie dragged me into the spare bedroom. I dutifully
adjusted the duvet and even fluffed up both pillows, though she would be
using only one of them. After she sat on the edge of the mattress I got
down on my knees in front of her. She had on low boots, which I
carefully removed, mildly excited just to be handling her footwear. Then
she laid back and spread her legs. I got alongside her and she raised
her wide bottom so I could tug down the tight slacks she wore. Her lower
half was gloriously attractive, all well formed contours. I hooked my
fingers under the waistband of her lacy French-cut panties. She didn't
make much of an effort to help me. Annie lifted her hips only slightly
and didn't keep her legs close enough together. The result was that I
had to work harder to get them off her and, more importantly, had to
touch her more. Soon my little penis was straining against the crotch of
my teddy. She noticed, pointed, and giggled.
"That looks like a prick, only smaller. Way smaller. But I guess for a
sissy like you, it's an asset. Makes you feel less like a man. Am I
right?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
It was strange to be aroused and sick to my stomach at the same time.
Kind of like I was being punished for feeling pleasure. I got into the
position I was so familiar with from Tyra, on my knees and head down,
mouth very close to the juncture of her legs. Normally I would have had
my hands on Tyra's hips but I wasn't sure what Annie would allow.
As if reading my thoughts she said, "Go on, Leslie. Steal a free grope."
When I touched her that way my palms tingled. Annie's feminine scent was
no stronger than my wife's but slightly different. Her labia were
thicker and rippled. My tongue popped out automatically and I got my
first taste. As I began to lap her she sighed. Her legs moved further
apart. I got my lips firmly against her split mound and kept my tongue
moving. Then I alternated that with sucking on her clitoris. She
reacted as if she'd never had that done to her before and thought it was
the best thing ever. I continued switching back and forth to prolong her
enjoyment, but eventually I could tell that she was accelerating toward
an orgasm and would not want to be taken off that direct course. So I
got two fingers into her and used my mouth exclusively on her button of
love. That did the trick and she was launched into a soaring climax,
complete with jerking her legs in unison as she peaked. I lapped her
through a slow descent and then she let out a long sign.
"Damn, Leslie, you may be a dud when it comes to screwing, but you eat it
like a champ. I'm going to get as much of that as I can."
She got herself together and walked unsteadily out of the room. As she
left she hollered, "NEXT!"
Moments later Barb appeared. She eyed me from under her dark bangs, then
said, "Let's get down to it." After she was on her back atop the bed,
long pleated skirt spread out, she told me, "Get under there and take off
my panties. Go on, Leslie."
I did it, registering strange sensations while my head and shoulders were
inside her skirt. I gingerly eased her panties down and set them aside.
"Okay?"
"Perfect. Now get back in there and make me get as noisy as Annie was."
After I wriggled under her skirt she gathered some of it up so she could
fling the hem over my back. I was in the dark, the warmth and her musky
odor confined in that close space. I found my target by touch, using my
lips and tongue. Then I fastened onto it like a suckerfish. I probed
the interior and swirled around the entrance. She murmured
appreciatively and pressed her heavy thighs against the sides of my head,
making my sense of being trapped even stronger. Simultaneously, my
stomach sent signals that it was still overtaxed. My mind was having
trouble separating the joy of being with a voluptuous woman and the
gastric distress from my forced feeding. I mouthed Barb through two
quaking climaxes before she relaxed and let me out from under her
voluminous skirt.
I was still trying to recover when she got up, patted me patronizingly on
the head, and went out. As I was attempting to get my thoughts straight,
in walked Zell. She eyed me lasciviously thorugh those large-frame
eyeglasses. She unfastened and whipped off her wraparound skirt.
Despite everything that had happened, I was mesmerized by her heavy but
shapely legs. Her panties were soon off. She motioned for me to come to
her and then pointed toward the floor. I understood and put myself in
front of the tall commanding woman before getting down on my knees.
She said, "How about a kiss?"
I was eye-level with her neatly trimmed pubic hair but as I leaned
forward she pivoted and presented me with her wide, well-upholstered
rump. I was in no condition to fight back. My full stomach continued to
rebel as I pressed my lips to one cheek and then the other, over and
over. Then she made me wedge my face between those yielding hemispheres
and finish with several very intimate kisses, delivered over several
minutes, each one lingering much too long.
When she turned back the other way and planted her feet well apart, I was
relieved to be lavishing my attentions of a wet pussy again. I held onto
her thighs and lapped hard, getting my tongue into her cleft each time.
She shivered and purred and held onto my hair. Zell got wetter than any
of the others and gave my lower face a good pussy washing. I coaxed her
into a violent orgasm that made her practically gush. She pulled my head
down and rubbed herself as dry as she could on my hair. Putting her
skirt back on, she pinched my ear, hauled me upright, and walked me out
to where the others were waiting, panties in her hand. I had to kneel in
the middle of the room, like some exhibit, while they discussed me.
"Such a devoted pussy licker."
"Really rocked my world."
"Kisses ass like a sissy slut."
"And you're all welcome to keep on sharing Leslie," my wife promised
them. "I was thinking we could all get together this time next week and
have a sort of theme party. Each of us could find a sex toy for my
sissy. It could be something to provide pleasure or to give pain."
"Ohhhh," Annie said. "I've seen those chastity thingies online. Would
that count as pleasure or pain?"
"Get one and we'll let the sissy decide."
"How about stuff to, you know, restrain him with?"
"Bondage gear? Always welcome."
"Or it could be things that weren't meant to be used for kinky games, but
we can repurpose them. Like a dog collar and leash."
"How about diapers?"
"And fresh produce. Like a big fat cucumber to go you-know-where."
I could barely follow everything I was hearing. They went on endlessly,
laughing and throwing ideas back and forth. All of that, along with the
taste and scent of women so strong in my mouth and nose, interacted with
my upset tummy to keep my libido off balance. It was almost as if I was
coming to equate indigestion with sexual excitement. And there was the
weight I was gaining, and how that was changing my bottom. How much
bigger would those chest-warmers grow?
"And the week after that," Zell enthused, "we can each bring something
special for Leslie to wear. Help to build his pansy wardrobe."
"This could go for weeks."
"Months."
"Years."
"And we'd be getting so many orgasms from that talented sissy mouth the
entire time."
I couldn't believe how bizarre my life had become... and how much more
like that it was now guaranteed to get.
*********
(I've recently read several stories by Lisa Lovelace and enjoyed them
all. You might want to check out her THE NEW ADMIN.)
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