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A Sissy Cuckold's Night by Throne I got home from my office job at the usual time on Friday. I was looking forward to at least a few hours of peace and quiet. My wife Lea's boyfriend was out of town for the weekend. It would be a relief not have Kurt in our home for those few days. It would be an even bigger relief not to have him jumping into bed with her. Lea had started cheating on me less than a year after our wedding. Shortly after that she declared me to not be a man anymore and set out to feminize me. My name is Frank but she insisted on calling me Franny. I'll admit that I'm short, with a soft body, and have a personality that no one could mistake for macho. And much to my shame I'm underequipped in the penis department. That's why I picked up nicknames back in the high school locker room like Failed Dick Frank and Two Inch Twit. The one who had started calling me those things had been Kurt. He, along with his sidekick Stash had tormented me mercilessly. So it was especially hurtful that Kurt had come back into my life at the five-year reunion, when my wife Lea first met him and they exchanged phone numbers. After that he gradually seduced her and soon she was having an affair with him. It had all gone downhill from that point, at least for me. So there I was, looking forward to some time without him present and without me having to dress and act like a pansy. That was why it was an unhappy surprise when I reached the bedroom and found girly clothes laid out on the bed. That meant I was expected to dress up in them. But that was usually reserved for times when Kurt was there. He loved to make it abundantly clear who was the new man of the house, and that I had been relegated to nearly celibate, sexual slavery to my wife. Ever since he first bedded her I had been denied intercourse and was limited to providing her with oral sex. So why was I expected to dress up if he wasn't going to be there? "Surprise!" said my wife from behind me. I spun around and there she stood, in a sleeveless top and skintight slacks, both of which showed off her overblown curves. My wife has a big bust and wide protruding bottom, along with thick thighs and large but shapely calves, the latter accentuated at that moment by glossy black boots with boxy heels and square toes. She stood there, face framed by cascading bottle-blond hair, grinning devilishly as she gazed down on me from her superior height. "What's going on?" I asked anxiously, fearing I knew the answer. "Good news. My big man Kurt had a change in his schedule. That construction job he had to set up got postponed while somebody does some paperwork crap. Who cares what that's about? The end result is that he now has the entire weekend free. And where do you think he's going to spend it, Franny? Right here. Won't that be fun?" I felt sick. My attention went back to what I was expected to wear. It was a filmy baby doll nightie, pink and see-through, with matching panties. For my recent 23rd birthday Lea and her lover had gotten me laser treatments to permanently remove all my body hair. It had been bad enough having to wear anything revealing before but now there was the added mortification of being pink and smooth all over. I brought my hands up and opened my mouth but then thought twice about saying anything. I didn't need to start my long weekend by having her complain to Kurt about backtalk, which would earn me some sort of punishment. As big and strong as he is, the man who stole my wife is easily able manhandle me and it's not unusual for him to deliver a face slapping, spanking, or a demonstration of wrestling holds. With Lea waiting and watching, I quickly began to get undressed. She told me, "Before you get into your pretty-pretties, take a bath and use that perfumed shampoo and body wash I got you. That way you'll smell as sweet as you look." She laughed as she turned and walked away. Once I was out of my clothes I hurried to the bathroom. It was important to be done before Kurt arrived. For one, I didn't want him to be angry with me for taking too long. More importantly, I didn't want him coming into the bathroom while I was still undressed, like right after I got out of the tub. The big man had been eyeing me with disturbing interest the last few times he had visited. He had even stroked my arms, saying he was just checking to make sure I was really hairless. My wife didn't mind him touching me that way and it soon advanced to him patting and even pinching my bottom at will. Instead of being upset, Lea thought it was funny. She made jokes about how I must be trying to steal him away from her and what it might lead him to do. Even just the suggestion of my old bully going further turned my stomach. When I got out of the tub I had the overwhelming scent of a roomful of hothouse flowers. It reminded me of an expression I'd heard years before, about someone with too much perfume on smelling like a French whorehouse. Except that now that someone was me. I dried off with a large fluffy towel and then powdered myself all over with a big powder puff. I hated unmanly practices like that, which I was required to perform. Then I blew dry my hair, which they had made me grow until it reached nearly to my shoulders. With some quick brushing and the addition of two different products I soon had it looking fuller and shinier. Next came cosmetics, which I had become adept at applying. When those were done I had dark thickened lashes, dramatic eyes with smoky lids and the illusion of a fuller mouth, which was colored magenta and then covered with a coat of gloss. Checking myself in the mirror I nearly started crying. But there was no time for tears. I hung the towel over the shower rod and scurried back to the bedroom. That was another of those unnerving little rules. I had to leave the bathroom naked. Sometimes when I went to get dressed there would be nothing waiting for me on the bed. Items that had been left there earlier might have been taken away. When that happened it meant I was expected to go naked. Being fully undressed always invited insults about my weak physique, lack of body hair, and undergrown genitals. So I was relieved when the nighty and panties were still there. As mortifying as it would be to have them on, being left with nothing to wear was worse. Finally clean and dressed, I gave my hair one last check and headed for the den, where our big-screen TV was. Kurt usually wanted to check the sports scores when he arrived. Lea was already there, lounging on the sofa. She had no bra under her top, and was displaying plenty of side- boob. "Come on, Franny-Franny-Bo-Banny," she said and giggled. "Give me a mini-fashion-show so I can make sure you're naughty looking enough." I did a slow twirl. When I was facing her again she had a hand over her mouth, laughing into it. "Kurt will be thrilled to see you like that, all dressed to seduce. I love how your little dingle shows though those panties. I mean, it's so small you might miss it, but if you look close you can spot the baby boo-boo." She snickered. "Yes, dear," I responded in the soft voice I was expected to use whenever I was dressed. "Now go an make sure the kitchen is all straightened up before Mr. Right gets here." I minced out of the room, aware that my gait had to be as wimpy as my appearance and speech, as I was subject to being critiqued at any time. In the kitchen my wife had left a few items on the counter that needed to be put away, probably just to taunt me. I hurriedly took care of them and then checked nervously to be sure there was beer in the fridge. I found one bottle left over from Kurt's last visit, which was far from enough. So I raced to the pantry and grabbed a six-pack of his favorite brew. When I put it in to cool I was careful about how I rearranged other items to make room. It was so easy to displease my wife and her boyfriend that I had to be careful even with small tasks like that. When I was at last satisfied that everything was in order and thought I might find a few minutes to relax unobserved, I heard the front door open. Knowing what was expected of me, I scampered to the living room, trying to be quick without forfeiting my girly qualities. I held my arms out slightly to the sides with elbows bent and wrists limp, so my hands flopped around as I moved. Kurt stepped away from the open door, leaving it that way so I had to close it, while I risked being spotted from outside. After it was shut I got alongside him. "Good afternoon, Mr. Kurt," I said in my best Franny voice. Taking the hem of my nighty I performed a deep curtsey. He shook his head and told me, "Damn, but you are one sad specimen." Then he looked around and wanted to know, "Where's that bitch of mine?" "Ms. Lea is in the den, Sir," I said respectfully. "Is she naked?" he snapped, catching me off guard. "I... err... don't know." I swallowed with difficulty. "She was dressed last time I saw her. Sir." "Well, what if she has pants on and I want to give her pussy a feel right away?" "Um, I could... maybe... help her get undressed? From the waist down? Or completely, if you preferred?" He laughed boisterously. "I'm just funning you, Franny-Fanny. If I want your wife bare-assed, she'll get herself stripped for action real fast. You know how eager she is all the time for my cock. Right, Teeny Weenie?" "Y... Yes, Sir." He glanced at my crotch and guffawed. "That peanut-dick of yours still hasn't had its growth spurt. I'm beginning to think it'll never get any bigger." I was trying to decide if Kurt expected a response, when he pushed past me and went toward where Lea was waiting for him. I followed the big brute and found him standing in front of her. She had sat up and already had one hand on the front of his pants. My wife suggested, "I could take this anaconda out and play with it right now, Kurt, if you want. Get my hands all over it. And my mouth, if you say so." "Nah, baby. Not yet. Let me lock lips with you before I get my cock in there." He sat heavily beside her and suited his actions to those words. I knew they were swishing their tongues together as I stood there and watched helplessly. Pangs of jealousy tore through me. When they finally broke apart to catch their breath, Kurt barked at me, "Yo, candy pants. Who do I have to smack around here to get a f*%king beer?" "Me? I mean, I'll get you one right away." I wiggle-walked out of the room, shamefully aware of the picture I made with my bottom visible through the diaphanous sleepwear. When I got back they were in another clinch. He was not only kissing her hard but pawing her ass with one hand. His other hand was through the armhole of her top, to squeeze one big tit. I could see it when he got his thumb on her nipple and began to tease it. She arched her back and pulled her head far enough from his that I could see their open mouths, tongues out and sliding over each other between them. It made me nauseous but what could I do? I was in perpetual fear of Kurt. As if sensing that, he stopped and swiveled his big head on his thick neck. "What the hell are you staring at, dinky-dick?" "N... nothing, Sir?" "So I catch you gawping at us and you say you weren't? Are you calling me a liar?" "I don't think so. I mean, I wasn't. I didn't." "And I say you did. Which means you need another one of my lessons, Franny." My lips quivered and I had to blink back tears. "I... if you..." I had trouble finding words. "Yes, Sir." He gave my wife one more quick kiss and took his groping hands off her body. She encouraged, "Get him good, Kurt. Teach the sissy what's what." Kurt stood up. "You heard the lady. Time to school you, sissy-pants." Wringing my hands, I stood there waiting to learn my fate. He gave Lea a questioning look. She declared, "He owes me an apology for calling my man a liar. I think the wuss should kiss my boots while he tells me how sorry he is." I didn't wait to be told twice. In seconds I was on my knees before her, head bowed. Then I ducked down with my ass in the air to press my lips to the toes of her footwear. The leather was clean and shiny because I had buffed them the night before, along with several other pairs. I kissed them repeatedly, already thinking about how I would have to use the soft brush and a cloth on them again. Between kisses I told her, "I'm so sorry, dearest. I didn't mean to suggest that Kurt was lying. He would never do that. Ever. I'm stupid and I say dopey things. I apologize." "What else are you sorry for, Franny? Let me hear it." It wasn't the first time she wanted that. I knew what I had to say. "I'm sorry I was a dud in bed. And that I'm so short and weak. And especially that I have such a pathetic little dick." "More." "I apologize for not being a real man." "More." "And for not even being a good sissy." She laughed. "I guess that's enough." "Yeah," said Kurt, "except that Franny didn't sound sincere enough. I think the safest thing to do, rather than risk her getting even worse, is to just give her a spanking. And since she's down there already, slobbering on your boots, it'll be easy to do it now." "Or in a short while," she offered. "I want my loser husband to work on those books some more." To me she said, "Try harder, Franny. Spit on them and then move it around with your tongue. Kind of like a spit shine." I tried not to gag as I produced as much saliva as I could, dribbled it onto the leather, and spread it the way she had told me to. I got the uppers, insteps and toes. I even crammed my head between her feet and the sofa so I could reach the heels. She can Kurt started kissing again, with him openly fondling her, while I continued my demeaning task. It was torture to know that her firm calves were inside those boots, her warm thighs just above, and the rest of her wonderful zaftig body so near, but all of it beyond my reach. They whispered to each other and laughed softly as I went on and on, until even they couldn't say that I had stinted. It was such a relief when Kurt declared my assignment completed. The problem was that he then announced, "Now it's time for that spanking." He got up, towering over me, and grabbed my hair. "Rather than me getting down there with Franny, I'll take her somewhere more comfortable... for me." The powerful man tugged me up into a crouching position, then dragged me along without letting me rise the rest of the way. He led me to a wooden chair against the wall, sat, and yanked me across his muscular thighs. While I whimpered and squirmed, he tugged down my panties. He said, "Let's see how red I can make this pale ass." Lea clapped happily. Kurt put one hand on my lower back to steady me. I planted my palms on the floor and told myself I would try not to kick or wail. But when he landed the first four hard smacks, two on each cheek, my momentary resolve vanished. I flailed my legs and squealed like a stuck pig. Lea howled with laughter. Kurt struck harder and faster. He knew that seeing me punished was an aphrodisiac for my wife. His arm didn't stop moving until I was in tears, babbling mindlessly, my yelps interspersed with pleas for clemency. Immediately after the last swat he stood, rolling me off his lap, to land in a heap on the floor. I got to my up on my haunches and clutched my burning bottom with both hands, my body quaking and my nose running. I was looking directly at my desirable wife. She bent far forward to show off her deep cleavage. Then she tweaked her nipples through the thin material of her top. If only I could have been seeing that under very different circumstances. "Now crawl back to Lea," Kurt commanded. "And ask for permission to kiss and lick the soles of her boots." I got hands on the floor in front of me and went to her on all fours. Sobbing loudly, my voice unsteady, I entreated her to let me do what Kurt had said. She chuckled sadistically and stretched out her legs so she could rest her boots on the backs of their heels, with the toes pointed toward the ceiling, bottoms presented for me to abase myself by using my mouth on them. I got my head very low and pressed by lips to one unclean sole and them the other. After several minutes of going back and forth between them, I used my tongue. Kurt knelt down alongside me and put his hand between my shoulder blades. He pointed out, "Lea will never ever forget this. And seeing how far down we've driven you makes me want to take you even lower. She and I have been making plans to do that and now it's time to make it happen." "We're doing it now?" she said with unrestrained glee. "I can't wait. Is it all right if I have him change into something else?" "Whatever you want, honey. I'm just here to keep Franny in line. We wouldn't want her to get all crazy and hurt somebody." "The only one she could hurt is herself. But you already did a fantastic job of that." To me she said, "Hey, Franny-girl. How's your rump feeling? It's so red. Is it as sore as it looks?" I let out shuddering sigh and confessed, "I don't think I could sit on it. It hurts so bad." "Boo hoo hoo. We'll find some positions for you to assume that don't involve sitting. But we have to head into the bedroom for that." Kurt got up. He told me, "Don't bother standing. You can just crawl along behind us, Fido." "Not Fido," my wife told him. "Fifi. Like a well groomed poodle." "She doesn't look so well groomed with her hair all mussed and that make- up running down her cheeks. But that won't matter when she's doing what comes next." "And I have her new outfit in there," Lea said, standing and putting herself next to him. He draped his long arm over her shoulders. His hand was hanging down on her full breast. "You'll adore how Franny looks in it." I crawled along behind them, tormented by how freely he held and touched her, and how readily she accepted it. Lea even put her arm around his waist. At the doorway they stopped to share a close embrace and a deep kiss. Her heavy breasts were pressed against his manly chest. Imagine my humiliation, having to see that from my submissive position. As they entered the room he groped her wide bottom. Then they separated so she could go to the bed and pick up what she had selected for me to wear. I was appalled at what I saw. It was a red corset with black trim. My wife snapped her fingers and motioned for me to stand. She told me, "Strip, Franny. Give us another look at your squishy muscles and satiny skin. Plus we can have another laugh at your munchkin man-parts." I got myself naked in front of them -- again -- and she fitted the corset around me. As she fastened it in the back it was already tight. Then she began to pull at the cords, so the stays squeezed my midsection, narrowing it and giving me a more feminine shape. Lea tugged, constricting my waist further. She grunted and then huffed in frustration. Kurt offered, "How about if I give you a hand, sugar?" "Would you? I want Franny's soft middle compressed as far as it'll go." "No problem." She stepped aside and he put himself behind me. Kurt stroked the side of my neck with one thick forefinger. Why was he touching me more and more? He ordered, "Stay still, butter-butt." He gave several firm yanks to the cords and then switched to slow steady pulling. The body-shaping garment was crushing me. I groaned and bit my lips. When I was sure he couldn't make it any tighter, he proved me wrong. Only then did he begin tying off the cords. Lea opened the closet. On the inside of the door was a full-length mirror. She made me go to it. I took tiny steps and had to make a conscious effort to regulate my breathing. My reflection showed a feminine person with a scrunched in waist that was unnaturally small. My hair was a worse mess than before and my face was streaked with mascara. The corset had reshaped my chest, pushing up the soft tissue and forming a pair of small but unmistakable faux boobs. Below the corset my shrimp of a penis signaled my true gender and the mockery or my forced transformation. My mouth was made over into a cartoonish caricature of a frown. "Poor Franny," Lea said with feigned understanding. "All dressed up and nobody to love. But we have the solution to that." She and Kurt undressed each other while I stood there with the pain in my butt cheeks penetrating and turning into a dull ache. Lea sat on the side of the bed and had me remove her boots. Once she was completely naked she got her feet on the mattress, laid back and spread her legs lewdly. Kurt stretched out alongside her, his remarkable cock draped over one solid upper leg. My wife waggled a finger at me and then pointed to the spot between her thighs, signaling that I should put myself there. As I did it she explained, "You're so good at licking my pussy when Kurt's not here and I need some attention, that we decided you'd also be useful for getting me ready for his cock. Isn't that a smart idea?" I looked at her slightly parted, pink and rippled labia. Going down on her while her lover was right there, to prep her to be ravished by him, was so much worse than just doing it when only the two of us were present. It felt like the corset was cutting me in two. "Let's go, Franny," she called. "Time for your talented mouth to get me all wet for Kurt's heavy-duty tool." As I stuck out my tongue and lapped from the bottom to the top, Kurt said, "The wimp knows how to follow orders. He got lots of training back in school. I remember the time me and my buddy Stash made him use his mouth to clean up all the hair on the drains in the locker room showers. Then he had to keep all that yuck in his mouth for the rest of the day. The two of us kept stopping him in the hall between classes and making him show us that he still had it. He had to stick out his tongue with all that crud on it. And we made sure the girls saw it, too. There was this one sexpot, Andrea, with a big rack. Dumbo thought he was going to be her boyfriend. After she saw what we were making him do, she never looked at him the same way again. Besides that, she started calling him Hairy Mouth." To me he said, "Remember that, Franny?" "Yes -- " (lick, slurp) " -- Sir." I licked and probed until she got very wet. Then I had to swallow her secretions. Finally Kurt pushed me aside and I tumbled off the bed. Getting onto my knees, I saw him in the missionary position, his cock rigid, poised to enter my bride. He advised me, "Watch how a true man does it. I'm going balls-deep into your hot wife's snatch." As he fed his considerable length into her she moaned with pleasure. His girth stretched her wide. He pulled back and thrust several times in rapid succession and she convulsed with satisfaction. Her plump legs came up and wrapped around him, full calves taut. Lea met his strokes with jabs of her broad hips. He was everything that I was not. I knelt there, unable to avert my eyes. The corset was crushingly tight. I was shamefully aware of the man-boobs it gave me. My wife made high-pitched sounds of arousal. Her lover growled and kept pumping, lasting so much longer than I ever could have. They humped in perfect sexual harmony until, after what must have been forty minutes, during which she had two noisy climaxes, they finished together, both of them sounding like wild animals. My shoulders slumped in defeat and I hung my head. Kurt had thoroughly bested me. "Now comes the funniest part," he announced, not even out of breath. The bedroom dynamo rolled off my wife and stretched out beside her. "Your new job, should you decide to accept it, Franny, is to slurp up that huge deposit I left inside your wife's twat and swallow it all down like a good obedient sissy." "If... if I decide to accept it?" I said nervously. "That part was a joke, shit-for-brains," he clarified. "Now get back to your usual spot and start your pussy meal before too much leaks out." Sickened by what I was expected to do, I nevertheless returned to my recently vacated position. My wife's vaginal lips were swollen and a few shades darker. I tried not to gag as I lowered my face and got a first taste of Kurt's semen, mingled with her plentiful fluids. It was incredibly mortifying. His ejaculate was thick and salty. I gathered the mucilaginous mess on my tongue and gulped it down. There was so much of it. They kept me down there while they cuddled and kissed. I not only got her thoroughly swabbed out, but also gave her an additional, though much less intense, orgasm. Kurt had his mouth on hers while I had my lips sealed over her pussy. "Whew," she exhaled. "That was a treat. I'm going to want the same thing after every time we screw, Kurt. These changes we're making are certainly working out well." "Yeah," he agreed, "but the best one is yet to come." I peered up from my demeaning position, to see him fondling one of her sizable breasts. "How about if Franny runs and fetches me a beer and then we'll give her our gift?" Lea chortled. "She's not going to like it." "That's the whole idea." He swung his long leg and thumped one king-size foot against the side of my head. "Yo, Lick-It-Up Lucy. Wiggle your ass out to the kitchen and grab me a brew. And don't shake it up, unless you want another spanking." "Yes, Sir." I got awkwardly to my feet, the corset still restricting my movements. "No, Sir. Yes, I'll get you a beer. No, I don't want another spanking, please." "Then get a move on." I rushed away, knowing that I was giving them a good view of my reddened rear as I left. When I returned and cautiously handed the bottle to Kurt, my wife had a small cardboard box in her hand. From it she plucked something made out of metal that I couldn't identify. Kurt twisted the cap off his beer and tossed it aside, for me to pick up later. He informed me, "What we got you is a cock-lock, not that you have much to put in it." Lea went on, "But it's the super-small model, so it should be perfect for your dinky dick. Now come around here and stand with your feet apart, so I can put it on you." "But why?" I moaned. Wearing that, I wouldn't be able to achieve even the infrequent ejaculations they allowed me, when I had to masturbate with them watching and shoot my backed-up load into the toilet. "I mean, it's not like I'm allowed to... you know... have sex." "First," my wife said pointedly, "you just earned yourself more discipline for talking without permission." "Second," Kurt continued, "we're putting your puny pecker in chastity because I'm not here all the time and we don't want to risk you getting nasty with Lea." "But I'm not allowed... She would never let me..." "That's two separate disciplines you've earned," my wife declared. "Or one really harsh one. Care to try for more?" "N... no, Ma'am." "That's better. Now come here for your lock-up." I went to her. As soon as she touched my genitals I got hard. She sneered at my immature prick and gave my little balls a cruel squeeze to get me soft again. The chastity device had a ring that she passed by testicles through one at a time. Then she fitted the front piece on. It was only a shallow cap that compressed my dick to almost nothing. Next she fitted a miniature padlock through the spaces provided and clicked it shut. "There you go," she said, patting my disabled penis through its cage. "Safe from getting you into any trouble. Now let's make sure your dick- keeper works. Bend over so I can reach those pansy-boy tits easier." I did it, causing the corset to dig in again. My chest-mounds were easily accessible to her. She got her fingers and thumbs on their nipples. I had always been sensitive there. Now, encaged, I was even more receptive. My penis strained to get stiff but it was futile. My balls were drawn up tight. It was all terribly uncomfortable. When I wordlessly murmured from the throbbing and pain, Lea reminded me, "If you think it's bad now, it'll be so much worse later. I'll have to be extra careful not to tease you with my body." She used both hands to press her heavy knockers together and up, so she could fasten her lips over the end of one and give it a suck. The sight was powerfully erotic. My testicles registered an added twinge of discomfort. "Yeah," she concluded. "I'd say your prick prison works just fine. And it will continue to do it's job for a long time, unless somebody takes pity on you and uses the key." "Right," seconded Kurt. "So you'll have to be super nice to whoever is your keyholder." They spent the rest of the evening in short belted robes, watching some mindless reality show. I was let out of the corset and put in a pair of harem pajamas. They were transparent and their silky material stimulated every inch of skin that it touched. They let me see myself in the mirror again. Along with my runny mascara, my lipstick was a smeared disaster. And I wasn't allowed to do anything to get rid of the smell and taste of sex, on my face and in my mouth. I had to crouch in the corner of the den with several pairs of my wife's boots, cleaning and polishing them with cloths too small for the job. The scent of leather was heady. Being in chastity heightened my perception of what was erotic. My poor dick kept trying to grow in its cramped space. At last it was time for bed. Lea was naked, her round protruding booty proudly shown off. She told me, "One more thing before you go off to dreamland, Franny. Because you're not able to perform your husbandly duties, I no longer think of us as married in the usual sense. But I want to be kind to you, so I've come up with an alternative. From now on you'll just be married to my ass. You can call her Astrid, with the accent on the first syllable." Kurt was sitting on the sofa. She went to him and knelt before his legs. Then she parted his robe and stroked his cock until it was standing up proudly. She capped the end with her mouth and started a worshipful blowjob. Her robe was up around her waist. He told me, "Lea's mouth is going to be full for a while. I like her to suck my cock good and slow. While she's giving me a blowjob, you can kiss your new bride. Go on. Get down there and get acquainted with ASS- trid. Give her some smooches. Show your ass-wife how much you adore her." I knelt before Lea's jutting rear end. It filled my field of vision. While listening to the wet sounds of her mouth busily at work on Kurt's manhood, I kissed her well-padded buttocks over and over. I could smell the earthy natural odor from the center of her posterior. Kurt said, "Wedge your face between those queen-size cheeks, Franny. Do some kissing where it really counts. All up and down the valley." After all the sex my wife had enjoyed, the tang of sweat was strong back there, along with the smell of natural oils. I dutifully kept making contact with my lips. At her lover's command, I pressed my mouth directly against her tight pucker. Taking Kurt's cock out of her mouth for a few seconds, Lea told him, "The dummy found my bullseye. It feels good." "You heard her, girl. She likes what you're doing. Now try making little circles with the tip of your tongue. That's called rimming. And then get right inside that buttonhole. Way down inside it." Disgusted though I was, I did it all. Kurt's breathing accelerated and deepened. Lea's body rocked from whatever technique she switched to so she could make him finish. My old bully grunted and I knew he was blasting a load into her mouth. It nauseated me to think of having a full serving of his hot cream in your mouth. Then my bride stood and turned to gaze down at me. Her cheeks were bulging from his semen her saliva. She cupped my chin in her pudgy palm and pressed the sides of my face with her thumb and fingers, making my jaws pop open, then tilted my head back. As she bent forward, I had a terrible premonition of what was about to happen. The halves of her robe parted and her generous bosom escaped. She parted her lips so the goo in her mouth could run out in a long, slow-moving stream, aimed perfectly at my waiting tongue. She kept pushing more out, making sure I had to accept and gag down as much as possible. Lea even produced more spit, sloshed it around, and ejected the resulting mixture for me to swallow. She licked her lips, grinned wickedly, and said, "Just like a momma bird feeding her baby." I forced myself to gulp down what was left and told her, "Yes, dearest." "And you'll be giving your ass-wife lots of goodnight kisses, right before bed, every single evening." "Unless we're not here," Kurt amended. "Like tomorrow, when I'm taking Lea out clubbing. We'll be late, so you'll have to miss one time." For a moment I got to bask in a vision of having time to myself, without fresh indignities being heaped on me, hours during which I could try to recover from the multiple shocks of the latest changes they had introduced to my lifestyle. That brief hope was extinguished when Lea informed me, "But we aren't going to leave you all by your lonesome self." Kurt said, "I thought of the perfect person to keep you company. You know who? It's our old buddy from school -- Stash." NO, NO, NO. That was the worst possible news. I whimpered, "You can't. Not him. He be so mean to me." "There you go again," Lea said disapprovingly. "Being ungrateful. And with more backtalk. That means another punishment. You have so many coming that I don't know how we'll ever catch up." Kurt said, "Here's an idea. Maybe Stash could help out with that." "Do you think he would?" "I bet he'd be happy to lend a hand. And he's got a good imagination, so Franny wouldn't get bored with the same old punishments again and again. Stash won't ever run out of clever ideas." I protested weakly, "Please. Don't. You can't let him see me like this." "Of course not," my wife soothed. "So," I wanted to know, "I'll be allowed to dress in male clothes?" "No," Lea corrected. "I'll put together just the right outfit for you. Maybe a belly shirt and bikini-cut panties. Or a sports bra and a pleated miniskirt -- with nothing under it. That should send the right message." "Noooooo," I whined. "He'll think he's free to molest me and make sexual demands." "Well, yeah," my wife said. "You do have to thank him somehow. And you'll want to stay on his good side, because I just decided that we're giving the key to your cock-lock to HIM." "He could use some cheering up. His latest girlfriend just left him. It was the same problem as every time. He always wants more bedroom time. It's too much for even the most sex-crazed girls. You'd think a guy like him, with his horse-cock, could hold onto them longer. But he doesn't care where he sticks it. A sissy like you will be a good fit for him, if you know what I mean." I remembered Stash from the locker room and how his monster cock would sway as he smacked me with a towel rolled up and wetted on the end to make a rattail. It made me go cold inside. "So it's all settled," Kurt decreed. "And if it works out, we can have Stash come around other times, just to hang out with Franny. They can relive old times." "Yeah," Kurt concluded. "And if you ever want a night out with the girls, Lea, I can stay here with Stash and Franny. I know we'd find all sorts of ways to entertain ourselves. Just like old times... only better." "Yes," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "... only... better." ********* (I wanted to revisit some of my favorite themes. Also, sissy cuckold stories score a lot of positive feedback. Please let me know what YOU think.)