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Shamefaced Sissy Spouses! By THRONE (31 pages)
🕑 Added 2021-03-15 00:19:19 +0000 UTCShamefaced Sissy Spouses!
By THRONE
© 2019-2021 QoS Comix All Rights Reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
***DEVIN DICKIE NOTE***
All characters are OVER 18 years of AGE! This is a bullying fantasy and not real. The acts in the following written work are only consensual sexual choices and fantasy humiliation scenarios.
Bullying is NOT OKAY and If you or someone you know is being bullied, please alert the authorities.
Shamefaced Sissy Spouses!
By THRONE
The two husbands stood in the bathroom, dressed only in short silk robes that were belted at the waist. They were nervously taking cosmetics out of pink, floral zipper-bags that had been given to them by their wives. Mal and Dirk, whose sissy names were Malvina and Dink, were both short, the first slender and the second plump. Their bodies had been denuded of hair at the same time that their beards were eliminated, months ago. They hadn't realized it at the time but now knew that those changes were permanent. In the succeeding weeks they had been made to use various emollients, until soon their skin was satiny smooth all over.
"We have to do a good job on each other," Mal said in the high wispy voice he was required to use.
"I know," Dirk agreed, speaking similarly but an octave higher. "Terri hinted at some awful punishment if we mess up."
"Yes." Mal extended the sibilant sound at the end of that word. "Belle said the same thing. I'm really afraid of what they might come up with."
The two wives suddenly appeared in the doorway. They had obviously been eavesdropping. Both of them were attractive, with trim figures and pretty faces. Terri had long blond hair, favored lots of make-up, and wore only a filmy, baby doll nightie. Belle, in sharp contrast, had short dark hair, eschewed cosmetics, and had on a black T-shirt and faded jeans. The butch looking woman put her arm around the other wife and pulled her close, to deliver a deep, searing kiss. All their spouses could do was stand there like the weak sissies they had become, quivering and biting their lips. Mal felt himself getting aroused against his will. He tugged down the bottom of the brief robe. Dirk also got stimulated and before he could hide it, his penis poked out between the halves of the garment. He quickly tucked his member down, held it between his thighs, and adjusted the inadequate garment as well as he could.
"I saw that," Belle said, accompanying her words with a sneer. "Your puny pecker really loves to see us getting all girl-on-girl."
To demonstrate, she ran her hands over Terri's sides and reached around to cup the ovals of her buttocks. The blond squealed and rubbed herself against the other female. That was followed by another probing kiss, with Belle doing most of the tongue-jabbing.
The men shifted around, Dirk pressing his thighs together and Mal putting his hands on either side of his crotch, visibly straining not to touch himself there. Belle laughed at them and made a show of fondling Terri's pert breasts through the thin material of her sleepwear, making her writhe and moan.
"Wow," said Terri. "Can we go to the bedroom now?"
"Not until later," Belle told her. "I have lots of plans for our wimped-out husbands. You know how randy it gets me to see them fool around together."
"I know," Terri purred. "It does the same thing to me. But I'm already wet for you."
Belle chuckled. "That's terrific. Thank goodness we gave them their makeovers, so we never have to have sex with them and their baby dicks again. I much prefer getting busy with you, babe."
"Same here. And I guess I can wait, if it means playing some more nasty games with Swish and Swisher here."
"That's the spirit," Belle encouraged. To the emasculated husbands she said, "Now give each other pretty faces and then come see us in the den. You'll be thrilled when you hear what I have for you to do."
The women left and the feminized men spent a long moment just staring at each other. Finally, Mal sighed and picked up foundation, which he began to apply to Dirk's chubby cheeks. When he was done, he handed it over, so the heavier husband could do the same to him. That was followed by blush, various eye products, and then bright red lipstick, everything generously applied. When they were done, both of them had overly-decorated faces, resembling clownish hookers. After a last check in the mirror, they headed for the den, hand in hand as their brides required. When they got there the women were seated close together on the couch. Belle had a sports station on the TV and was checking the scores. Everyone remained silent until she switched to a music channel that played quiet instrumental selections. She usually listened to louder styles, but this was good background for what was about to happen.
"Let's have a look," Belle said.
The husbands meekly approached and knelt before their respective wives. The women eyed them critically.
Terri said, "They're so cute, Bill." That was what she sometimes called Belle, who didn't mind a more butch name.
"I guess," the other woman said with less enthusiasm. "But they could have done better. I'm thinking they still deserve some punishment."
"Aw," the blond said placatingly. "It's not like they're real girls. Or very smart. We have to cut them some slack."
"I suppose," Belle conceded. "How about if there's still a paddling, but for only one of them."
Terri put a fingertip to her pink-lipstick colored mouth. "Hmmm. That sounds fair." She turned her attention down to her spouse. "Don't you agree?"
By this time the guys could see that it was a rigged game, which was something they were accustomed to. Even so, they had no choice but to play along. And at least this way, one of them could avoid having his bottom tanned.
Mal dutifully agreed, "That's a fine idea, dear."
"As long as you think so. We want to be fair about this." She wondered aloud in a little girl voice, "But how shall we decide who gets their fanny smacked?"
"I know," Belle declared, as if none of this had been preplanned. "Why not have them spank each other first? Whoever does the best job doesn't get paddled by me."
"That's perfect, Bill," Terri enthused. "You're so clever."
The guys wore sick expressions. They were being manipulated, same as always, but this move was especially wicked. They had never been made to discipline each other. With their goal to show the least restraint, they wouldn't be able to hold back. Belle had her husband move a wooden chair to the center of the room. Terri told her spouse to sit on it. Then Dirk had to drape himself over Mal's lap. The seated sissy was ordered to bare the other's bottom. Mal pulled up the brief robe. Dirk's full rump was exposed. He shifted position slightly and the well upholstered halves jiggled.
"Time to get started, Malvina," Belle decided. "What should the count be? How about if you give your sissy sister..." She paused to let the possible number of spanks remain unstated while the victims' apprehension mounted. "... twenty. Is that a good number?"
Mal knew the way she thought. If he agreed she might rethink it and fault him for being too kind. He didn't want to offer a higher number, especially because he would be receiving the same when it was his turn. Even so, he needed to do what would please her, without making the punishment too much worse for him and Dirk.
"I was thinking..." he said in a small voice.
"You?" Belle said with feigned surprise. "Thinking? That's something new. But go on."
"Well," he continued, trying not to focus on Dirk being stretched across his lap, and the unwanted contact between their bodies. "Twenty-four might be better. Two dozen. Kind of a more even... or common... number." His voice faded on the last word, as if he didn't know what his point was.
Belle gave an elaborate shrug to signal her acceptance, like she was puzzled by his words but was accepting them out of sufferance. She added, "You have to know your target, Malvina. So, take a good feel of Dink's tail end. That well-upholstered sitter. Pretend its bread dough, which it's a lot like anyway, and knead it."
"Yes, Ma'am."
He got both hands on his target, one on each buttock, and began to dig in with his fingers, pawing all that excess fat. The women relished making their men touch each other. It had never failed to produce blushing faces and shamed expressions. This time was no exception. Mal was visibly humiliated and Dirk moaned softly from mortification. After Belle calculated that she had reached a peak of disgracing them, she intervened.
"That's enough, Malvina. You're enjoying yourself too much. Let's get to the main act. Right now. Twenty good solid swats. I mean twenty-four."
The sitting sissy raised one hand. He put the other on the small of the lying figure's back to steady him. Determined to win this perverse competition, Mal brought his arm down hard, so that his palm made a loud smack against Dirk's upturned rear end. Though he was trying to keep quiet, the chubby sissy yelped and jerked. In quick succession another five blows fell, until he was gasping and couldn't stop squirming. Mal waited for only a scant few seconds before resuming, landing another half dozen meaty smacks. Dirk had to press his lips together to staunch his cries. But when the next stroke fell, he burst out with a high-pitched cry. After that six there was only the slightest of breaks before the last ones were given. By the end Dirk was close to tears but managed to hold himself together. Even so, it was obvious from his red face and the pinpoints of perspiration on his brow that he was enduring blazing pain.
They got up and switched positions. Mal dreaded what was to follow. The husbands were being made to work against each other. And Dirk was upset. This was not going to be easy for Mal to endure. He lay across the other sissy's cushiony thighs and felt the back of his robe lifted out of the way. It was so embarrassing to have his bum shown off like that.
Belle said, "Hold on, girls. I need a glass of seltzer." To her lovemate she said, "How about you, Sweets?"
"Sure. But no ice."
"One with and one without," Belle stated, in no hurry to let the husbands reach the end of this cringe-inducing scene.
She left the room, humming, and was gone for several minutes before she returned with two full glasses and handed one to Terri. Belle sat back down and the women enjoyed sips of their drinks. Dirk wished he could have one. And that he could move Mal off his lap. Plus, he wished fervently that he would be allowed to wear some male clothes in the house for a change. After the females had savored their lemon-lime water some more, while the guys were trapped in their compromising positions, Belle at last set her glass on the end table, placing it with precision atop a wooden coaster. The added seconds were like minutes to the waiting sissies.
"Now," Belle signaled. "Round Two. Begin."
Dirk's bottom stung and he was set on making Mal's sting even worse. Let the other husband take the waiting paddle punishment. Neither of the males liked what was happening but they still had to protect themselves as well as they could, even if it meant hurting the one who shared their predicament. The plump sissy elevated his arm and brought it down in a blur. There was the crack of the spank landing, accompanied by the prone one's wail. Emboldened, Dirk administered blow after blow unrelentingly. It was too much for Mal, who was soon driven to tears that rolled down his cosmetics-covered cheeks. His eyeliner ran. His nose ran. He wished he could run... away. Blubbering shamefully, he got to the end of his spanking. Mal was permitted to get off the other's lap and then had to go stand in the corner, nursing his abused ass. Dirk thought he had won, at least until his wife issued a surprise order.
"Dink," she said firmly. "Go stand in the corner with Malvina."
He went and crowded in next to who he had just spanked. There was a long uneasy time while the wives chatted about some shopping trip they were planning. The minutes felt like hours. Then it was time to decide who had won, and who was going to have the paddle applied to their sitter.
"Well," Belle opined, "your sissy gave the hardest spanks."
"True," seconded Terri. "But yours paced them better."
They debated back and forth like that, each championing the other's spouse. In the end it was Belle who made the decision. She announced, "It was so close that I'm going to declare it a tie.
The husbands glanced at each other and shared secret smiles. They had both won.
"So," Terri wondered out loud, "does that mean that they both lost?"
"You called it. So now they both get their rumps roasted. Do you mind doing one of them? Luckily, I happen to have a second paddle."
"But you're so good at it. And have a stronger arm. How about if we split the work and each give them... I don't know... however many whacks."
"We'll let them decide again. This time it can be Dink's turn to pick a number. How many do you deserve, Dinky Dick?"
He stood there trembling, still trying to get past the shock of hearing that they had both earned punishments. In a subdued voice he said, "I guess... maybe... twenty-four again?"
"That seems reasonable," Belle said. Terri checked her to see if she had more to say. The guys were still staring at the juncture of two walls so they didn't see Belle as she gave her lover a broad wink. Then she went on, "So it'll be twenty-four... for each cheek. Forty-eight total. The paddles are long enough that we can swat both halves at once. Forty-eight times."
The guys couldn't believe it. That math sounded wrong. They trembled with dread. Belle produced both paddles from a nearby closet. She gave one to Terri, who took a few practice swings through the air. Then Belle went to fetch the sissies, took each one by an ear, and walked them out of that room and to the kitchen. The manly woman, still twisting their ears, forced them to bend over the breakfast counter, one on each side, so they could see each other's faces. The women took up places behind their own husbands. They tested their range, moving in slow motion, letting the flat wood lightly touch its targets. The men couldn't stop thinking about the high number of smacks, and how unfairly it had been arrived at. Yet they knew better than to make any objections. That would only lead to added reprisals, more dire than what they now faced.
As one, the females lifted their arms. Belle held her sorority-style paddle in one strong hand. Terri had her longer, narrower one in a double grip. They struck at the same time, making both husbands yowl. The second and third strokes landed but now they were taking turns, which would make the total ordeal last longer. Pacing themselves, they placed three more each. Those sissy bottoms, already bright pink, now suffused into red. The marks left by individual hand spanks and paddle blows blended into an overall, darkening continuity. The guys wailed and wept and babbled. The entire time, they had to view each other's torment as it was written on their faces.
At the halfway count the women halted, and drank some water. Then they took up new positions, each behind the other's spouse. The men were trying to staunch their tears, to control their running noses. Terri had them reach across the counter, cross their forearms, and hold hands. Four sets of fingers curled around each other. The wives resumed their earlier conversation about shopping, as if nothing untoward was happening. They continued chatting between swats.
"So, we can head downtown after we're done with our girls." SMACK!
"Sounds good." SLAP!
"I'll pay for parking." SWAT!
"Okay. But you have to let me buy coffee." CRACK!
It went on like that until the last splat of wood against flesh had sounded. Then there was 'one more for good measure'. The men couldn't believe how much it hurt, how hot their tails felt, or how freely they were crying. They got some control over that last result, but the previous two went on unabated. The women took the cushions off two kitchen chairs and had them sit on the hard wooden surfaces. Throbbing discomfort persisted. There were occasional sobs. The women finished their water.
"You know," Belle mused, "our sissy husbands have gotten very close to each other. I think we should formalize their relationship. Take it through all the usual stages. We could do it right here in the house."
"How do you mean?"
"Let's go into the living room and I'll get them started. You can see how I make it happen."
They all went to the spacious room. The women got comfortable on the sofa. The men couldn't be comfortable anywhere, especially not sitting on the floor, where Belle put them. She had them get so close together that they were hip-touching-hip. Those abbreviated robes kept slipping open. They failed to cover the guys' undersized male parts while their sore butts were on the floor. Mal and Dirk kept tugging the slippery material to try to be less exposed.
Belle narrated, "The two romantic sissies have just started dating. They're in Malvina's car and she's putting the moves on Dink. First Malvina forces a kiss on her girlfriend." Reluctantly suiting his actions to the words, Mal seized Dirk by his soft shoulders and kissed him hard on the mouth. Before he was done, Belle continued with, "Mal shoves his tongue into her mouth." That was not -- Not -- definitely NOT something he desired, but the penetrating soreness in his buttocks told him he must. His questing tongue went all over the inside of his repulsed partner's mouth. Belle let out a snorting, unladylike laugh and went on with, "Malvina gets her hand inside Dink's blouse and fondles her titty." Mal reached under the loose robe and pawed Dirk's man boob. "She gets her face in there and sucks that succulent nipple." Oh no. He didn't want to do that. The wives had never made them go this far in the past. Even so, he did it. The response from Dirk was panting and gasping and, Mal saw from the corner of his eye, a laughably small, straining erection.
Terri chimed in with, "And then Dink gropes around for Malvina's pecker. Finds it. And starts stroking, very slowly, getting her all worked up but not making her finish."
Belle gave another raucous laugh. "Next Malvina reaches between the other sissy's legs and takes hold of her little sprout. She begins tugging it, but the thing is so small she only needs her thumb and first finger. Now both of them are pumping each other but never enough that either one gets to finish. It is SO frustrating."
There sat the two husbands, their sore bottoms on the hard floor, looking totally sis, make-up streaked, pulling each other's undersized dicks. They both wanted desperately to ejaculate. Their wives almost never let them do that, and then only in the most embarrassing ways. The guys began to breathe hard and it sounded like they might lose control.
Belle said, "But now their dating days are over. All right, hands up where we can see them. Stop your jerk-off games." She snickered. "It's time for them to get married. Face each other, girls. And repeat after me. You first, Malvina. Ready? I, Malvina, the silly sissy, take thee, Dink, the big-bummed sissy, to be my wife." Blushing at the indignity, Mal spoke those same words. "To cuddle and lick, even though your prick is tiny, because you're as big a loser as I am." After he recited that self-insulting line, Belle turned to Dirk. "And I, Dink, a flabby failure as a man but a real good pansy..." He forced himself to say it. "... take thee Malvina so I can get my hands all over you and play with your nips." He choked out that and then she told Mal, "You may kiss the bride -- on her big pink ass."
She made Dirk put his chin on the floor and get his rear in the air. Mal had to kneel behind him and reverently press his lips to both reddened sides repeatedly, tell the chubby cheeks he loved them, and finish with a kiss deep in the space between them.
"And Dink," Belle went on, "you may kiss the other bride... all over her puny balls."
There was some clumsy shifting around of bodies before Dirk ended up on his back, with Mal kneeling and straddling his face, low enough that the heavier husband could lavish attention on the other's scrotum. For the finale, Terri had him hold it in his mouth and lap it at the same time. Then they had to kneel, face-to-face, and share a deep probing kiss with various body flavors in it.
The sissies couldn't believe all the new and disturbing acts they had been made to perform. Still, their ordeal wasn't over.
"Let's move on to the honeymoon suite," Belle suggested. "Or as I like to call it, the spare bedroom." When they were at the far end of the hall, far from the door, Terri said, "Malvina has to carry Dink across the threshold but I doubt she can lift that tub of lard. So, get on your hands and knees and she can ride you to your marital bed."
Dirk sat himself astride Mal. Terri made him lift his feet and keep them up, so that Mal was carrying every ounce of his considerable weight. With a soft grunt, Mal started to cover the distance but it was difficult. He groaned as they got closer. Their red butts made a funny sight, one above the other. Terri gave Mal a few kicks in the can to urge him on. He at last entered the room but they made him go the rest of the way to the foot of the bed. Dirk was given permission to dismount and they both got onto the bed. Belle got them to lie side-by-side, facing each other. She had them bring their crotches together and perform a lewd imitation of intercourse. The robes weren't in the way, so it was all skin-on-skin, their shrimp-dicks sliding against each other. It was like they were trying to start a fire by rubbing two wet sticks together, with a lot of effort but no results.
"Poor babies," Belle said with an unconvincing imitation of pity. "They can't consummate their fairytale marriage. That's with the accent on 'fairy'."
"Time is running out for them," Terri contributed with mock alarm. "I don't think they're going to make it. So close but their tinkles are just not big enough. It's good they're together, because no woman would ever accept those miniature cocks."
They pulled the husbands apart, acting like the guys were struggling to stay together. Belle said, "Sorry, girly girls, but fun time is over. We two have to go shopping and get you some pretty things to wear to bed together. Of course, you'll come with us."
"Go shopping?" Mal blurted in a panic.
"Go to stores?" Dirk echoed. "Where people can see us?"
"Don't worry," Belle soothed. "You can change clothes."
"Yeah," Terri said impishly. "We have some lovely dresses for you to wear."
"But..." Mal sounded ready to shed fresh tears. "Everyone will stare at us."
"I suppose," Terri agreed. "But we'll be on Gabler Street, or as a lot of people call it, Gay Bar Street. It's a cool area, with sex shops and a kinky fashion emporium, but also lots of trendy eateries and bars, an alternative bookstore and an art theater, not to mention several galleries. So, you won't stand out TOO much in your delicious outfits. Especially not when we're inside that clothing place, with its leather and latex outfits, bondage gear and, for you girls, lots of lacy frilly lingerie. We'll have so much fun."
Dirk was not convinced. "We'll be a laughingstock."
"Then try to look more like real girls and less like sissy husbands who just got spanked and had a guy-on-guy make-out session. Now let's go to the master bedroom. You know, the one where us real girls sometimes spend the night together."
The males helped each other undress. After the way they had just interacted, that was more disturbing than it used to be. All that body contact had added a new dimension of awkwardness to just being close to each other. Terri opened the bedroom closet to get what they would be wearing. There were two dresses on hangers, along with a big pink shopping bag full of everything else they would need. She laid out lots of items on the bedspread. The guys were upset to see two party frocks that looked like they were meant for little girls, but had been made in adult sizes. There were also underthings that went with them, including training bras with minor padding, cotton panties, fishnet-fingerless gloves, lace ankle socks with ruffles around the top, and buckled shoes with one-inch heels. Everything was in pastel shades of pink and red, yellow and green. It was all so shameful. Even so, the unlucky husbands had to dress each other in those unwanted outfits. The wives giggled and made comments.
"You girls are going to be such a hit."
"There are plenty of tourists in that neighborhood, just looking for kinky types."
"I'm sure you'll get your pictures taken a lot."
"When we're shopping for you, maybe you'll make some new sissy friends."
Next the wives fussed with their spouses' hair, making it fuller all around and combing it down over their foreheads. The end result was to make them look quite girly. Then came their make-up. After removing the previous cosmetics, which were ruined by then, they had to apply fresh coatings to each other, with the ladies offering tips.
"More rouge. I want those cheeks to have a permanent blush."
"Not the pale red lipstick. Use the candy apple red."
"Extra mascara. Make those lashes thicker."
"Lots of liner, so those eyes will really pop."
Once that was done, they were allowed to don their dainty gloves. The end result was that the men looked like girls who had gotten into their mothers' cosmetics and didn't know how to hold back. The final insult was tiny bags with long straps. Mal's was red and heart-shaped, while Dirk's was cylindrical, like candy in tubular packaging, with wide rainbow stripes. Both were covered in sparkling sequins. The wives coached them on how they should be carried, with the arm bent, hand raised, and wrist limp. If the combination of the mini-handbags and how they were held didn't attract attention, nothing would.
The men had to get into the back of Belle's car and sit there holding hands. Dirk's wife drove them into the city and found a parking lot right at the end of Gabler Street. The young parking attendant grinned as he saw the sissies emerge from the car. He gave them a broad wink. Still holding hands, they moved protectively closer to each other.
"Oh, look at that," Belle said innocently. "The shop we want to visit, Freak Fashions, is all the way at the end of these three, long city blocks."
"Oh well," Terri said, "it's a lovely day for a stroll, as we can see by how many people are here."
The guys' mortification was devastating as they moved unhurriedly along the street, the wives making sure to take their time as they window shopped. First, they stopped at the outdoor tables of a café. The ladies sat comfortably while their sissies stood at the curb, instructed to use overly feminine body language. While the men struck pose after pose in slow motion, the women enjoyed coffee and gooey pastries. As predicted, sightseers took pictures of the two girly men.
Belle called over from the table, "I bet some of those shots are posted on-line already."
A pair of butch men slowed down to give the dress-wearers the onceover. Effeminate men waved to them. Cars slowed down so their occupants could get a better look. At last, that ordeal was over and the foursome moved on. Next stop was a gay bar, where the women made their sissies follow them inside. The group attracted immediate attention. Customers were curious about the relationship between them.
One flamboyant guy with his red-dyed hair frizzed out in a big cloud, asked, "So what's the arrangement here? Are you ladies like professional Doms? Are these your slaves?"
Belle laughed. "No. We're their wives."
"You're fruit flies? Fag hags? No offense intended."
"None taken. These two limp-wristers are straight, believe it or not. But we girls discovered we liked each other better than we liked our wimpy husbands. So, we're turning them into sissies. That way we have each other and they can be a couple too."
Red Hair clapped his hands. "Oh, that is too delicious." He leaned closer to give air kisses to both guys. "You two take care of each other. And be sure to invite me to your wedding." He cackled and moved away.
The wives each had a glass of chardonnay and the bartender, a tall husky type, declined to take their money. He even offered free drinks for the husbands.
He suggested, "I can make them a couple of Cum Lover Specials. Trust me, you'll adore what happens when they drink them."
"Okay," said Belle.
A crowd had been forming around them. The husbands cringed away from the encroaching wall of gay men. Someone tickled Mal's ear. A mischievous hand patted Dirk's bottom. The drinks arrived and Terri grinned. They included a thick layer of some creamy topping. The husbands accepted them and, at the bartender's insistence, tipped up the glasses to take long swallows. When they set their drinks on the bar, they were left with cream all over their upper lips.
"Looks like somebody got lucky," someone said.
"Must have been a couple of heavy loads they took."
Phones came out and images were captured. The husbands looked at each other and realized that they had been made to appear as if they had spunk under their noses. It started to run at the corners of their mouths. When they went to wipe it off the bartender stopped them.
"You can't do that," he advised cheerily. "The only way you can remove it is with your tongue. Nice and slow. One at a time."
They did that to the accompaniment of hoots and hollers. More pictures got taken. Afterwards there was a momentary lull.
Then Belle declared, "Finish your drinks, girls. And then you can lick each other's mouths and make them all nice and clean."
That set off a chorus of oh and ah sounds. The guys drained their glasses, creating even bigger messes above their mouths and even on their lower lips. Then they had to extend their tongues and each lap up the cream on their sissy sister's lips, taking turns. There were cheers and applause. Some watchers marveled out loud that married men could be made to do that. Next, Terri ordered the husbands to exchange some long deep kisses. Then Belle had them pull their faces an inch apart so their dancing tongues were visible. The drinks had been strong and were going to their heads. They ended up hugging, close together, overwhelmed by the shameful performance they had just given. The wives shared a passionate kiss before they declared the display over. At long last the husbands were led out of the bar.
There were a few more stops, though mainly to prolong the sissies' discomfort. They had to be reminded to carry their purses properly. It was a relief when they arrived at Freak Fashions. That emotion was short-lived. Stepping inside they saw that the shop consisted of a front room featuring lingerie and sexy streetwear, and a backroom which they could glimpse through a doorway with a beaded curtain, where there were leather clothes and bondage outfits. The wives led their feminized husbands around, asking them if they liked this nightie or that pair of harem pajamas. Terri held a pair of hot pants up in front of Mal's hips. Bette made Dirk pick a belly shirt from a display, one with writing on the front. All the printed messages were unwelcome. There was 'I (heart) Dickie' and 'Pussy Boy' and more like that. He settled on 'My Wife's Plaything', of which she heartily approved. Making the husbands carry those shorts and that shirt, the went into the back room.
The scent of leather filled the air. There was a rack on the back wall from which hung restraints and instruments of discipline. The guys had to pose with a mannequin in full dominatrix regalia while Terri took their picture. One of the salesclerks, a petite Black girl wearing just a body stocking and wide studded belt, showed them a few items. She also asked if she could call the manager, who she felt would like to speak with them. Belle was intrigued. She hoped it would present some new opportunity to insult their husbands, perhaps to squeeze the dregs of their masculinity out of them. The clerk hurried away to fetch her boss. When the woman in question appeared, she was tall and full figured, encased in a latex dress that showed off her substantial curves. The husbands were immediately worried about what this might presage.
"Hello, ladies," the woman in latex said cheerily. She eyed Mal and Dirk. "And sissies." Returning her attention to the wives, she went on, "I'm Natasha. My clerk Chantel alerted me that you brought a deliciously plump pansy with you." She nodded toward Dirk. "And I have a newly arrived something-to-wear that just begs for someone of his size to model it. If you're agreeable, and wouldn't mind us taking some photos and a little video for our international website, we could make a party of it. I'd love to open a bottle of champagne and order some snacks from a delightful place right up the street."
Belle said, "I'm intrigued."
Natasha added, "And of course it would mean a significant discount on anything the two of you purchase today, with maybe a few free goodies thrown in."
Terri looked at her special friend with a hope-filled expression. "Could we, Bill?"
The dark-haired woman gave her a devilish smile and said, "If it makes you happy, babe, I'm all in favor of it."
The blond gave her a hug and nuzzled her neck. Both husbands shuddered at how quickly this situation was developing and where it appeared to be leading. Natasha ushered everyone, including Chantel, into a side room. Hanging in the corner was a curious piece of merchandise. It was made of some pink material like spandex and would cover someone from toes to the top of their neck. There were no sleeves or legs. A matching hood accompanied it.
Natasha explained, "It's meant for a chubby figure like this one's." She gestured toward Dirk.
Belle told her, "That's my sissy husband Dink. Looks like it would be a tight fit. And very restrictive. All of which I like. A lot."
The manager gave her a conspiratorial grin. "There's even more that I know you'll appreciate. If you'd like to get the princess undressed, we can go ahead."
The domineering wife told Dirk, "You heard the lady. Strip."
Terri said to Mal, "And you can help your sissy sister get naked."
Chantel vanished for a moment and returned with a digital camera and a video unit. She began capturing images as the shamed sissies did what they were told. Soon Dirk was standing there with his chubby hairless body on display, fidgeting around and moving his hands as if to cover himself, but not quite doing it.
The cute Black girl said, "I wish I could get my skin as smooth as Miss Thing's there."
Belle told her the name of the lotion she made him use. Natasha took the strange garment down. She said it was called The Bum Suit and was lined with countless tiny filaments that would stimulate the wearer's skin, intensifying any sexual arousal he experienced. It was set on the floor so Dirk, his face made over by apprehension, could step into it. Then Belle and Natasha worked it up his legs, which it held tightly together. As it was raised further, everyone saw that it left his bare bottom exposed, even shaped and lifted it to make it plumper. His nether cheeks were still pinked from those earlier punishments. He had to keep his arms at his sides so the suit could pin them there. The neck had widened enough to be passed over even his shoulders, but when it was released, it snapped back so much that it formed a snug collar.
Natasha said, "Let's see you move around, darling."
Dirk unhappily worked his feet but was only able to go a few inches before he began to sway precariously. Belle steadied him. Terri excitedly took the hood, on the inside of which was a sponge gag. Natasha explained that the gag would begin to swell as soon as it started to absorb saliva. Mal watched in fascinated horror as his wife put the hood over the other man's head and rolled it down, fitting the gag into his mouth. There were holes for his nostrils. Only Dirk's eyes showed, and they were filled with worry. He moaned piteously.
Belle wanted to know, "What was that you said about the inside of the suit teasing him?"
"Oh yes," said Natasha. "All those miniature fibers will work on his nerve endings." She took a pair of gloves from a shelf. "Look at these. They have the same material on their outside surfaces, sort of like the Bum Suit turned inside out."
Belle accepted them and passed one to Terri. They each donned a single glove. Dirk's wife went to him and stroked his uncovered bottom. He shivered and moaned. While Chantel switched from the still camera to the video one, Belle went to the helpless man. She pulled at two areas on the chest portion of the suit and small panels peeled down to hang there, leaving his nipples bare. The wives understood what was intended and stepped in to use the gloves on his receptive nipples. As soon as they touched them, Dirk moaned and began to writhe. Under the crotch of the suit his small penis immediately erected, pressing out against the stretchiness. Natasha revealed another flap that was lowered to bare his genitals. Dirk's small dick poked out at everyone. Chantel was capturing every humiliating moment on video, much to Dirk's dismay. When the wives used their gloves on his hairless penis and scrotum, he groaned and squirmed. Mal could only watch and be grateful that they didn't have one of those suits in his size. At least he hoped they didn't.
Dirk was in a confusion of sexual arousal. His entire body was being tantalized. He couldn't think straight. Other customers were coming over to satisfy their curiosity about the strange scene. A bare-chested muscleman appeared, carrying a tray on which were an open bottle of champagne and several glasses. He set the tray on a low table, knelt, and began to pour. Dirk gained some respite as the wives took off their gloves and accepted glasses. There were chairs along one wall and all the drinkers sat down, except for Chantel who took a sip and returned to readiness with her video unit.
With sudden inspiration, Terri said, "Malvina, why don't you put on those gloves and give your kissing-cousin some more sexy massaging?"
He did it reluctantly. Soon he had Dirk wriggling, the motion causing more of his smooth man boobs to protrude through the twin openings. When his dick was touched, he squealed behind the gag. It was quite a show, with numerous shoppers now enjoying the performance and several taking pictures with their phones. Mal had to lift the back of his dress so he could rub his buns, still clad in cotton panties, against Dirk's yearning pecker. That provoked laughter from the onlookers and elevated the sissies' shame even more. At last, the tray of snacks arrived, all sorts of cheese cubes, crackers, vegetable nibbles, dips, and other delicacies. Small plates were distributed by the muscleman, who kept stealing sly glances at Dirk and Mal. As the women ate and chatted, Mal had to kneel at Dirk's feet and wrap his arms around those chubby imprisoned thighs. To keep the suited husband excited, the other had to blow gently on his tingling erection. It was totally humiliating for both of them.
After the women had consumed enough tidbits and were on their second flutes of champagne, Natasha said there was still one more type of action she would like to capture for the viewers of her website/catalog. Without even knowing what it might involve, Belle okayed it. Terri happily went along. She cast hungry glances at her mannish friend. All this action kept getting both of them hotter and hotter. While the wives sat and watched like pampered royalty, Natasha and the shirtless guy lowered Dirk onto the polished floor. The helper made sure he was holding Dirk's cushy hips and managed to brush his thick fingers across those bared buns, making the suit-wearer shudder. Once the victim was on his tummy, his small stiffy pressed under him, Natasha took a cat-o'-nine-tails from its hook on the wall. She swung it experimentally through the air. Belle and Terri watched with intent interest.
In a cool commanding voice Natasha said, "Crawl, worm." She punctuated the order with a slash of multiple leather thongs across his vulnerable sitter.
Dirk yowled into his gag and tried to creep forward. The woman with the whip told him to lift his middle like an inchworm. He did it and was able to propel himself across the smooth floor. But when he did it again, and his bottom was at its highest elevation, she struck once more. That pattern kept up as he made a circuit around the room, mewling into his gag, eyes pleading desperately, buttocks jiggling with every stroke of the cat. At last, he completed his difficult course and was allowed to stay on the floor, blinking back tears. Mal was given a squeeze bottle of soothing cream to rub carefully into the abused areas. He knelt alongside the sniffling sissy husband while Chantel recorded this final mortification.
"You know," said Natasha, "I could use two sissy models on a regular basis. Not only for the on-line catalog and some bonus features to include there, but also for a series of fashion shows the owner, Derrick, has wanted to put on at a kinky club he owns and operates. I'm sure you ladies would be given free memberships, among other rewards. And your husbands could meet some other submissive sissies, which could turn into fun for all involved."
"I like it," enthused Belle. To the other wife she said, "How about you, Terri?"
"Absolutely," agreed the pretty blond. "Especially if they have a shadowy corner where you and I could get together, after seeing our sissies parading around in front of everyone gets us hot and bothered."
"Oh," Natasha offered. "It's better than that. There are private rooms upstairs for that. So, may I call Derrick after you leave and tell him I have stars for our runway show? And that they'll be willing to pass among the customers?"
"Definitely," said Belle with a wide grin.
"100%," seconded Terri before draining the last of her champagne. "I can't wait. And there's something else I can't wait for, Bill." She eyed Belle meaningfully.
The raven-haired woman gave her a knowing smile. "Likewise. We should take those kissy sissy sisters and get going before both our pussies soak through our panties."
That triggered laughter all around. The unshirted guy began peeling Dirk out of the Bum Suit, getting even freer with his big hands. Mal had to assist. At last, they were done and got a trembling Dirk back into his frock and the rest of his girly outfit. There was the long walk back to the car and then a drive home, with the wives chatting about the fun to come, and the sissy husbands cowering together in the back seat, worrying about the same thing their spouses were celebrating. It was going to be interesting.
