Sissy Cuckold’s Picnic! By Throne (Patreon)

Sissy Cuckold’s Picnic!

By Throne

© 2019-2020 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 ​Devinwhitegurl@gmail.com 

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. 

SISSY CUCKOLD'S PICNIC

by Throne

It was Saturday morning and I was hoping to spend the day watching TV.  There were always good movies running then: superhero, science fiction, fantasy.  My wife Delia wasn't around so I knew she must be out for her morning jog.  She keeps herself very fit by running and making daily visits to a nearby gym.  I love the way she looks, so firm and lean-muscled, with her pert breasts and tight bottom.  In contrast, I'm lazy and soft.  I peeked out the window and saw her on the sidewalk, in a tank top and shorts, a headband around her shoulder-length blond hair.  Her pretty face was a bit flushed so I knew she had already been running and was now cooling down.  Delia was talking on her cellphone. 

I decided to do what I could to keep her happy.  She couldn't complain about my appearance.  I was still in a short filmy nightie and matching panties.  The evening before she had been playing another of her domination games with me.  My wife had somehow gotten the idea that I wanted to be submissive.  On top of that she decided that it would involve her feminizing me.  I'm short enough that, when we started, she was able to put me into a few items of her clothing.  I didn't like having to wear panties and a crop top, but she found the sight of me in them very stimulating.  It led to some vigorous sex.  Well, vigorous for her.  She would tease me beforehand and get me so aroused that, once the main act started, I was finished almost before I began.  That didn't bother her because, being in that dominant mood, she would just make me serve her orally.  There was always a mess between her legs from me ejaculating but she insisted that with my need to be controlled, that would appeal to me.  It didn't.

So what I decided to do, that should please her when she got in, was to prepare one of the energy drinks she liked so much.  I got out fresh fruit, low fat yogurt, wheat germ, and few other add-ins, put it all in the blender and liquified it.  Just as I was finishing she walked into the kitchen, still on her phone. 

Delia said, "Okay then.  It's all set.  Bye for now." 

She came over to give me a peck on the cheek.  Her hand slipped up under my nightie and she lightly fingered my nipple.  I'm very sensitive there and was immediately under her spell.

My wife put her lips close to my ear and whispered, "I think today I'm going to take you a step further than usual, Pete.  I want to see you looking extra pretty.  More feminine than ever before.  How do you feel about that?"

How I felt was totally against it.  But with her sending those erotic messages through my nervous system, all I could do was choke out a whispered agreement.  She ran her fingers through my longish, light-brown hair, licked my ear, and then stepped away, leaving me with a straining erection.  I wished the nightie was opaque so she couldn't see my junior-sized penis.  Delia is well aware that I'm underqualified down there but it still bothers me to have her look at it.  Sometimes she chides me about it too, never enough to be hurtful but always sufficiently to shame me. 

She thanked me for preparing her breakfast and poured herself a large glassful.  Taking measured sips while still standing, she was soon done with it and put the glass in the sink.  Ever since she had declared me to be submissive, it was my responsibility to wash the dishes and keep the kitchen clean generally, along with most of the other housework.  Delia gestured for me to follow her as she headed toward the bedroom.  When we got there she had me strip out of my lingerie.  Then she ran her hands all over me, commenting on how much better she liked me since she'd had my body hair permanently removed. 

"And I'm sure you like it too," she stated, "with your beta personality and all.  It's funny that I ended up with a guy like you after all the Alpha types I dated in college.  All those jocks."  She shrugged.  "But at least I'm able to give you what you need."

I wanted to try, yet again, to explain my true feelings, but she pulled her top up and off, revealing those small shapely breasts.  Then the shorts came down, letting me see that all she had on underneath was a thong.  Any thoughts I had about stating my case evaporated.  From the dresser she took a plastic pump bottle of some sort of cream.  It turned out to be a new emollient that she had found to soften my skin.  Delia told me to use it everywhere from the neck down and then leave it on while she took a shower and dried her hair.  I sighed and got some of the lotion on my hand.  It had a tropical scent.  I applied it to my smooth upper chest, going very lightly over my nipples so I wouldn't  further elevate my already buzzing sex drive.  After I had used it everywhere and waited about a half hour, she reappeared.  All she had on was a short, loosely  belted robe that allowed me to peep at her breasts.  Sometimes my wife made me feel like a naughty boy stealing glances at her. 

She told me, "I did some research on-line and found a way to make your dream of being girly come true.  You're going to adore the new version of Treat."

It was a bad sign that she was already using my female name.  When she first thought of that one, because it rhymed with Pete, I wasn't happy.  Couldn't she have at least used a normal name, an alliterative one like Pam or Paula?  Instead she came up with that frivolous sounding choice.  She opened the bottom dresser drawer and took out a package that must have been delivered one day while I was at work.  It had already been opened.  From it she took a plastic case that held a hypodermic needle with a large chamber.  There were many bottles of pale yellow liquid.  She took one, drove the needle through its top, and filled it to capacity. 

"Right," she said, as if this was some everyday occurrence, like taking your vitamins.  "Bend over, sweetie, so I can start with your bottom."

"Wait.  What are you doing?"

"I told you.  I'm fulfilling your wish.  Helping you look on the outside how you feel inside."

"What I've been trying to tell you..."

"Now let's not start that again.  We both know that you get reluctant every time I help you go from Pete to Treat.  Remember how you got all pouty after I got rid of that unwanted body hair?  Well this is just more of the same type reaction from you.  So just focus on being Treat and how happy that will make you."

"But I'm only..."

"HEY.  No more of that.  Let me do this."

Trying to argue with her always ended the same way.  I sighed and angled my torso forward to make my buttocks a better target.  She injected both sides, several times each, refilling the needle in between shots.  Then she massaged the area and finished with a few pats.  Next she turned me around to face her.  This time, when she emptied another bottle of liquid into the chamber, I shivered.  Where was she going to use it now?  To my dismay she squeezed together the flesh of my chest on one side and confidently inserted the needle and depressed the plunger.  She did that multiple times on either side.  When she was done I had a pair of small round breasts, the size and shape of inverted teacups, with high nipples.  I bit my lips and tried not to start crying. 

"Oh, poor baby," she soothed.  "Give yourself some time to get used to them.  I'm sure you're going to love how they jiggle.  And take a look at your bum in the mirror."

She'd installed a full length mirror (she does all jobs that require tools) where I could see myself anytime I was feminized.  I went and turned sideways.  My backside stuck out noticeably and had a smooth curve to it.  I blushed.  When I face the mirror and jogged up and down on my heels, those new bosoms gave small liquid bounces.  Delia came up behind me and pressed herself against my back.  Her arms snaked around and she caught my nipples between her thumbs and forefingers.  As she rolled the nubs I was overcome by waves of arousal.  My dick sprang to life again.

She eyed my reflection and said, "See?  You like it.  You really like it.  Now let's do your hair and make-up, plus one other special touch, and then I have a nice outfit already picked out."

Feeling defeated, with a sense of powerlessness from being nude and having those girly contours, I meekly accept everything.  She sat me down at her vanity table.  Well, actually it was more mine than hers.  Delia always looked wonderful but didn't overdo the cosmetics.  I sat there on the white scroll-back chair, still stunned by seeing my cute tits.  She brushed my hair, used styling gel, fussed with a comb, and then used hairspray to hold it in place.  I had been given a puffy look with side-combed bangs obscuring my forehead.  Then she moved on to make-up.  Delia worked with practiced ease, plucking and thinning my eyebrows before darkening them, applying false lashes, going light on the eye shadow.  She added a hint of pink to my cheeks.  There were lip liner and bright pink lipstick, with a final coat of shiny gloss.  She examined the results critically and determined that I needed a slight shadow under my lower lip to suggest that it was fuller.  Then she declared her work done. 

The outfit, which she took from the closet and laid out on the bed, was a sleeveless white blouse and simple grey slacks.  At least she wasn't making me dress flamboyantly.  I reached for the top but she put a restraining hand on my wrist. 

"Remember I said there was a special something to help you get into Treat mode?  Well we have to do that first before you cover up."

My stomach dropped.  There was more?  She went back into that drawer and came out with a shallow square box.  When she opened it and displayed the contents I went cold inside.  It was a pudendum.  Female genitals.  A pussy.  And it was as smooth and hairless as my body.  Alongside it was a tube of something.

"This is a terrific product.  Not only is it completely lifelike, but the adhesive forms an unbreakable bond that can only be reversed with a special solvent.  Once it's on you, it'll be easy to pass as a girl where it counts the most."

"But... I don't... I mean, it isn't necessary to..."

Delia gave me a reassuring smile.  "It's not like I'm going to parade you down main street in the nude, Treat.  Though that might be fun," she added playfully.  "Where we're going no one will see you."

"Where we're... going?  I thought we were staying here and... and..."

"I know how your kink works, dearest.   You want to be out somewhere.  The risk of being discovered is exciting.  The possibility of being confronted makes you almost swoon.  I've read enough of those stories on that site you like."  She waved her hand in front of her face to indicate the level of heat produced by that erotica.  "It's easy to see why you can't stop going there to see what's new."

"I only do that because you..."

"Don't tell me you don't get worked up reading about guys like you getting into all sorts of fixes.  Being left at a nightclub by your wife and getting hit on by guys.  Be glad I'm not fulfilling that particular fantasy.  At least not yet."  She gave me a conspiratorial wink.  "Now sit on the edge of the bed and spread your thighs, Treat."

She almost had me believing the narrative she'd established about me secretly wanting her to do all these things.  I put myself where she wanted me and, though it just added to my shame, moved my knees far apart.  She opened the adhesive and applied it generously to the back of the fake puss.  Then she rearranged my male parts so that they were pushed back out of the way and pressed the genital disguise over them.  My penis and testicles were compressed.  My dick fit into a groove that must have been there for that purpose.  Once Delia was satisfied with the position of that humiliating cover, she had me hold it there while the bonding agent set.  After about five minutes she told me to stand and take away my hand.  The faux body-part was securely attached. 

I asked her in a hushed voice, "Can we use that solvent as soon as we get home?"

She told me, "Oh, that stuff is backordered.  It should be here before too long."

"So I can't... get this thing off... until then?"

"Sure.  But I knew you wouldn't mind.  It'll be so fulfilling for you to look down and see no pecker.  And you can urinate with this thing on.  Just remember to sit down like a lady." 

I said, "But at least, like you said, we're going someplace where no one will see me."

"Probably they won't.  I wanted to surprise you with a picnic.  There's even a spot somebody recommended.  I scouted it out, to make sure everything would be perfect for my pretty Treat."

"Thank you," I said quietly. 

"No problem.  Now get yourself into those outdoorsy clothes I picked for you.  They'll be perfect for taking a little stroll in the woods.  And of course I'll let you wear flats.   I'm going to get into something comfortable too.  Here we are, just a couple of girls getting ready for an afternoon among the pines."

Taking one more look at that unwanted cover-up between my legs, I put on the blouse and slacks.  Delia wore a blouse too, but hers had short sleeves.  Then she stepped into slacks that were looser than mine.  The end result was that she looked less girly than I did.  We went to the kitchen where she had a spacious picnic basket waiting.  There was food ready to be loaded into it and a bottle of red wine already chilled.  I was starting to get hungry but figured we'd be eating soon.  She handed me a folded up, plaid blanket and carried the heavy basket herself.  We went through the breezeway and into he garage.  Once those items were loaded into the car I took the passenger seat and she got behind the wheel.  I was glad the vehicle had tinted windows.  Delia headed out of our suburban neighborhood and into the surrounding countryside. 

After about 45 minutes we were deep into a forest.  She turned off the narrow road onto an unpaved one and continued until we were well out of sight of any traffic.  We reached an open sandy area ringed by tall trees.  I was relieved that she had found a remote location.  We got out and a few deep breaths of pine-scented air made me feel better, though there was still an underlying edge of nervousness.  I would be much happier when I was back home.  Maybe I could even catch some of those movies on TV.   I spread the blanket on the ground.  When Delia didn't get the basket I was confused.

"Aren't we going to eat now?" I wanted to know.

"Not yet.  That path over there leads to a beautiful clear lake.  It's only about a half mile away.  And we can be naughty and go skinny dipping."  When I looked uncertain she added, "Don't worry.  Your pussy is waterproof.  It won't come off in the middle of our swim."

My concern hadn't been losing that fake crotch.  I'd be thrilled to get rid of it and have access to my penis again.  As much as I wasn't eager to hike somewhere and go for a swim, I did relish the thought of seeing Delia naked outdoors and watching her cavort in the water.  So with mixed feelings l agreed to what she wanted to do.   As we started along the winding path I noticed how thick the woods were on either side.  Then the track faded away and my wife was making her own path among the trees and dense areas of undergrowth.  She seemed to have an internal compass and eventually we came out at the edge of a small lake.  Or maybe it was a wide pond.  I not only didn't know the outdoors but wasn't even sure of the terminology. 

"Let's get bare-assed and swim," Delia said merrily.  "It'll be fun."

I didn't feel so cheerful as I got out of my female attire.  But I did get the longed for view of my wife in the altogether, under bright sunlight.  Once undressed, we set our clothes in two neat piles.  I made sure that my wallet and keys were deep in the pocket of the slacks so they wouldn't fall out.  Delia stretched  her limbs and ran her hands down her sides.  She was magnificent.  My dick stirred inside its confinement.  She noticed me staring at her and came over to where I stood, now nude.  She wet her fingers in her mouth and used them to tease my receptive nipples.  I moaned as a rush of sexual energy ran through my system.  But my  penis was caught in its tight space, so snugly contained that I couldn't fully erect.  It pressed against my imprisoned balls.  That was all very uncomfortable.  Delia gave me an air kiss and suggested we run along the lakefront to warm ourselves before we went into the cool water.  I followed her with my boobs bouncing and rump jiggling.  At the same time I was admiring her taut buttocks as she moved.  I was humiliated by my new body and tantalized by her familiar one. 

When we returned to our starting point she stepped into the water.  I reluctantly did the same.  My instinct was to sit on the sandy border and watch her.  I knew she wouldn't allow that.  So I trailed along behind as she went further from shore and began paddling around.  The water stroked my new curves, making me more aware of them.  We moved back in from the deeper water and stood on the soft bottom.

Delia said, "Hey, before we get out of the lake, how about a race to the other side?"

I said, "You know you're in better shape than me and..."

She put her thumbs in her armpits and flapped her elbows, her bent arms like short wings, while making clucking noises.  "Chicken!"

So I took the challenge and began clumsily pushing myself through the water, keeping my hair-do above the surface, those boobs creating an unfamiliar drag, that bottom popping above the surface.  Delia swam alongside me.  I knew she was holding back.  She let us get past the center of the lake and then suddenly turned back toward our starting point.  All at once she was swimming furiously, covering the distance in no time.  I saw her race onto shore and grab her clothes.  And mine.  She tucked everything under her arm and waved with her free hand.

"Have fun," she called to me.  "See you back at the picnic spot."

Like a flash she was gone.  I floated where I was, slowly pedaling my feet to stay upright.  Then I began to kick toward shore, unhappy with the move she'd just made but aware that I couldn't do much about it.  I reached the sand and had to sit for a few minutes to catch my breath.  Then I shook off water, making my breasts and bottom wriggle around.  I saw where we had entered the lakeside area and began to cautiously make the long walk back to the car.  In minutes I was having trouble, as clumps of brambles closed in on me and I began to doubt that I was travelling at the correct angle.  I found myself in a thicket and reversed direction, but that somehow got me even deeper into tall undergrowth.   Branches scraped my delicate skin and burrs jabbed my soft soles.  I yelped and stumbled and, at one point, fell into a patch of what I hoped wasn't poison ivy.  I tried to recall the rhyme that helped to identify that plant but couldn't remember it.  Visions of myself with itchy bumps all over my girly hairless figure filled my mind.  I wandered like that for what I guessed was the better part of an hour.  Then I found the trail.  As I followed it I heard voices, one male and another female.  Were there other picnickers?  That was the last thing I needed.  If anyone saw me in my current feminized condition, I didn't know if I could stand it.  I pictured myself running off in a panic and getting truly lost in the forest. 

The voices grew louder.  I saw our car where Delia had parked it.  There was a second automobile next to it.  My wife was sitting on the blanket with the basket in front of her.  And she wasn't alone!  Alongside her was a dark-haired man.  He was broad-shouldered and I could tell that if he got up he would be a lot taller than her.  Or me.  He was handsome and his blue denim shirt was open at the collar.  His black jeans fit close to muscular legs.  I belatedly realized that if I could see the pair on the blanket, they might be able to spy me.  I scrambled into thick undergrowth and crouched low, peering through the vegetation.  Delia took something from the basket and handed it to the stranger.  She was giving him my sandwich.  My first reaction was to do something, say something.  Yet how could I confront him the way I was?  Would I stride up to them with my boobs bobbling and pussy on display, body smooth and denuded of hair, face covered with make-up?  I didn't want anyone to even see me, let alone get a good close look at my sissified self.  It would have been difficult enough to do fully clothed, as Pete.  While I was nude and Treat, it was simply impossible. 

The good looking guy bit into my sandwich.  Delia produced two stemmed glasses.  She handed him the wine and a corkscrew.  He effortlessly got it opened and poured for both of them.  After he set the bottle aside they clinked their glasses together.  That should have been me enjoying a glass of ruby red wine with my wife.  This couldn't be happening.  I stared in distress as he said something and she laughed.  Delia put her hand on his shoulder with easy familiarity, which made me shudder.  But then she began nibbling at her sandwich and opened a bag of chips.   I recognized the snack food as a product from the health food store she frequented.  The pair ate and drank, exchanging occasional remarks as I cowered in my hiding place with twigs poking my bare legs and bottom every time I shifted position.  They didn't eat anything else.  I knew there was more food in that basket.  My tummy grumbled.  Delia closed the lid and leaned toward the stranger.  They brought their faces closer together and shared a light kiss.  I almost yelled but restrained myself at the last second.  He had movie star good looks.  Delia and the man kissed again, but this time he put his hand on the back of her head and held her there with their lips locked together.  I hugged myself and whimpered. 

They stretched out on the blanket, side by side, and kissed some more.  I was itching from getting pricked by so many plants.  Some sort of insect crawled over my bare foot and I nearly squealed.  The intimate couple ran their hands all over each other.  I blinked in disbelief.  In some sort of a trance I began to creep closer, heedless of the additional scratches I was sustaining.  Their voices became clearer. 

She said, "Brad, this is really something, you showing up."

He told her, "After I let you know about this spot, and even after you took a test run out here, I just wanted to check up on you.  You had mentioned when you planned to be here."

"It worked out well.  My husband is off in the woods playing one of his kinky games.  I mean, I tried to go along with all that.  But when I left him alone, as part of the scenario, I figured he'd some hurrying after me.  Instead, he went off somewhere to do more play acting.  I guess he's having a helpless-girl-lost-in-the-woods fantasy."

"I don't blame you for being miffed at him.   And since you also told me he's a dud in bed, well, I guess it's okay to fulfill your fantasy too."

"You're my dream, Brad.  A real man with that killer cock that I just felt through your pants.  I've been true to my husband up until now, but what he's doing changes everything."

My mind reeled.  This was a bizarre misunderstanding and getting worse by the minute.  He was unbuttoning her blouse.  She was opening his shirt.  Like me, Delia didn't have on a bra.  All too soon her modest breasts were bared and he was fondling them.  She purred contentedly and arched her back.  He fastened his lips to one nipple and she moaned.  I dared to raise my head to see what else might be happening and was shocked to find that she was undoing his belt.  Opening his jeans.  Lowering his fly.  In the midst of what should have been the ultimate turn-off for me, I realized I was becoming aroused.  My dick tried to get hard in its confinement, causing me fresh discomfort.  With difficulty I managed to stay quiet.  The lovers -- that's what they were -- had no such restraint.  They murmured and laughed.  Brad stood up.  He got his pants off.  The boxer shorts followed and I witnessed that my wife had not been exaggerating about his endowment.  He possessed an enviable cock, long and thick.  Even from my hiding place I could see that it had a large knob at the end.  Getting onto her back, my wife bared herself from the waist down.  She rolled onto her knees, shrugged out of her open blouse.  He shucked his shirt and lowered himself in front of her.  Both kneeling, they pressed their naked bodies together, her breasts flattening against his broad hairy chest.  After a few more kisses she backed away and I saw that he was now impressively erect, a full eight inches of manhood with a slight upward curve to it.  Delia handled it like something precious, which at that moment it was to her.  She lowered herself far enough that she could nuzzle her cheek against it.  He threw back his head and laughed mirthfully at her display of devotion. 

She got onto her back once more, on the blanket.  Delia raised her arms and opened them invitingly.  Her legs spread out too.  I tried to swallow but my throat stuck.  He put himself between her thighs, with his massive tool aimed at the center of her femininity.  My dick strained against its confinement.  I thought again about how the solvent needed to remove that false puss was still in transit, or perhaps not even shipped yet.  How long would I be in that frustrating condition?  I inched closer to the passionate twosome, close enough to hear their heavy breathing, only one row of bushes between me and them.  With my chin in the dirt, squinting between two bushes where they met the ground, I saw him enter her.  She held onto his powerful arms as he began an unhurried in-out motion.  I was mesmerized by the sight of his long shaft entering and leaving her body over and over while she whispered appreciatively. 

"Oh, Brad.  This is marvelous.  It was never like this with Pete and his puny dick.  I guess it's for the best that he likes to dress up like a sissy and be called Treat."

"It's fine, babe.  That's the way with his kind.  If he were here right now, he'd probably be getting all steamed up from watching us."

OMG, was he right? Was what my wife had been saying all along really true?  Did I  want to be made to look like an anatomically correct female?   And treated as an inferior?  Plus, worst of all, did a part of me crave seeing her as she now, being pleasured by another man?  With a superior cock?  It seemed impossible.  My mind denied it but my body, the way my incapacitated dick was trying to escape, said the opposite.  My inferior dick.  Tiny dick.  Useless dick.  What had Delia called it?  My puny dick.  I was in an agony of confused self-doubt.

As if to seal my fate, Delia told Brad, between ardor-fueled gasps, "Naturally, I'll have to cut him off from sex.  Maybe give him a hand-job now and then."

"Or make him do it to himself while you watch and supervise," Brad suggested while still pumping.

"Ohhh.  Why does that idea excite me?"

I had to ask myself the same question.  Why did it arouse ME?  At that point they ceased talking and concentrated on their lovemaking.  He was a capable and caring partner, taking her through several shuddering orgasms like I had never been able to do.  She wrapped her legs around his midsection as he drove into her spiritedly to trigger one more climax, at which time, after demonstrating perfect self-control, he allowed himself to shoot his load.   Brad growled triumphantly as he emptied himself into her.  Thank goodness she was on birth control.  He had absolutely bested me in every way I could imagine and she had loved every second of it.  My wife had revoked my bedroom rights.  And my disabled dick was still desperately trying to get hard under that shameful false puss.  Seeing my wife soundly screwed by another man was mortifying.  Finding myself excited by it was worse.  I felt broken beyond repairing. 

After some snuggling they got dressed.  Brad kissed her tenderly.  She poured more wine and they pledged to get together regularly after this.  As he was leaving she told him she'd see him at the gym the next day.  He made a joke about how, as the owner, he could give her a free membership.  She told him it was okay for her to keep paying because it was with my money.  Oh no.  He must be the owner of that whole chain of highly successful and very lucrative fitness centers.  That meant he was also financially my better, to a huge degree.  And then he drove away.  I sighed and let myself sit down hard, unfortunately landing on a broken off, upward-pointing, branch-end attached to a fallen limb, which jabbed me right in my butt hole.  I yelled, sprang up, and toppled forward into a thorn bush.

"Treat?" my wife said in a calm conversational tone.  "Is that you, sweetie?   We need to talk."

She talked and I listened.  My wife summarized all that had happened since she abandoned me at the lake.  She possibly knew I'd been nearby while she was with Brad but acted like she didn't.  Delia appeared to take sly delight in recounting her tryst, planned or spontaneous, spending more time than I thought necessary on salacious details.  She concluded by repeating her vow to deny me sex from then on, sounding unregretful, making it sound like I had driven her to it, and not looking sorry at all. 

"Now that our new arrangement is established," she explained,  "you'll be getting exactly what you've wanted all along. To be a sissy cuckold, get teased and denied, and look oh-so-very girly.  In fact, I think we should leave you with that yummy figure and your pretend puss until further notice, with the time of any change-back to be determined by me. You  can hide those little chest-warmers under loose clothes when you go to your bland office job.  I hope you're grateful for all the effort I've put out to make you happy."

In a daze, I answered, "Yes, dear."

"So I'm sure you want to do something to thank me."

"I do?  I mean, certainly I do."

"Since your little shrimp dick won't be allowed near my precious pussy now that I have Brad's monster cock, you'll never have to lick up your messes again."

"Okay."  That was one small consolation. 

"So," she went on, "you can lap up the huge floods of spunk Brad will be leaving in me on a regular basis.  Starting right now."

Delia laid back and parted her thighs, giving me a clear look at her creamed labia and oozing interior.  I gagged but obediently assumed the familiar position and got busy lapping up and swallowing another man's spunk from my wife's body.  It was the ultimate indignity so far, but I feared there might be harsher ones to come. 

*********

(This fervid tale is based on an outline by that naughtily fellow, C.C., aka Crayle2.   Check out his C.C. stories here on Fiction Mania and his excellent Crayle2 captions on Deviant Art.  What a great corrupting influence he's been on me.)