Husband...Or Annoying Brat? By Throne (24 Pages) (Patreon)

Husband...Or Annoying Brat?

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. 

HUSBAND OR ANNOYING BRAT? 

by Throne

The wife and husband were standing in the living room of their two-bedroom, suburban home.  It was a typical domestic scene but with a twist.

"I swear, Gigi," said the wife, "you're turning into a total brat."

"Zelda, couldn't you..."  There was a hint of pleading in the husband's tone.  "...couldn't you go back to calling me Georgie?"

"How can I use your old male name with the way you have yourself looking?  I mean, with your full head of hair all fluffed up, the long false eyelashes plus lip gloss, no body hair, and that pink baby doll nightie with fuzzy stuff around the bottom, and matching panties."

"But I didn't make myself look this way.  You did."

His wife put her hands on her hips and huffed at him.  She was a lovely woman, trim but with a large shapely bust and a nicely made bottom, her figure shown off by a sleeveless top and Capri pants.  Her blond hair framed a face that was usually sweet but now radiated disapproval. 

She said, "It's not because of me that you're all dolled up.  It's because of your bratty behavior that I was forced to give you a makeover.  Isn't that right?"

"Well..."  He stood there with his hands clasped together at hip level and lowered his eyes.  "Sort of.  But you're not fair to me."

"Pish-posh," she told him dismissively.  "I gave you one chance after another to act like a man.  Didn't I?"

"It's just... I tried really hard... but you were never..."

"You're always making excuses.  As if nothing was ever your fault, Gigi.  I think a certain somebody should get busy with her house cleaning."

"Okay, but, um, the reason you want everything tidy, it's not because we're having company, is it?"

"No, you nervous little sissy.  WE'RE not having company."  She let him sigh with relief before she added, "I'M having company.  Rod should get here in about an hour."

"Does he have to keep showing up?"  There was a petulant whine in Georgie's voice.  "It's just not right, the way you two carry on."

"What?  I'm not supposed to have a fulfilling love life?  I certainly can't get what I need from you, now can I?  Or have you gone into denial again about your shortcoming?  I guess we'll have to see you take it out again."  She shook her head.  "Just like we did the last dozen times."

"No, it's okay," he insisted.  "Don't make me show myself like that.  I'll just go and start my chores."

"You will NOT.  Before you do anything, you will take down your panties so you can be reminded why I had to start dating Rod.  Come on, pansy boi.  Let's see the family jewels."

Georgie pouted and wrapped his arms around his unimpressive chest.  His lips quivered, as if he was going to cry.  He had to blink back tears.

"I'm waiting," Zelda said with impatience bordering on anger. 

"All right," he told her, his voice unsteady. 

Georgie pulled up the front of his filmy nightie and kept it there by gripping it in his teeth.   He clumsily worked the panties down until they were around the tops of his smooth thighs.  His male parts were put on display, as hairless as the rest of his body.  The shamed husband had the penis and testicles of a boy just entering puberty, before any significant growth had occurred.  His dick was a laughable two inches when soft and a ridiculous three-and-a-fraction hard.  He stood there, shamefaced and sniffling, while she looked him up and down.

"I mean, really," she said, sounding exasperated.  "You call that a cock?  Because it isn't.  It's more like you sprouted an extra thumb between your legs.  And where you're supposed to have a man-sized set off balls, you've got a couple of olives."

He let the hem of his nightie drop from between his teeth.  "You know," he said between shaky emotional breaths, "that shouldn't be important.  Size doesn't matter because..."

That was as far as he got before she was convulsed by laughter.  "Oh, please, Gigi.  You are such a silly sissy.  Don't spout nonsense like that.  A woman needs to feel filled up during sex, and what you've got couldn't fill a cannoli shell.  Be honest with yourself.  When it comes to screwing, you don't have the tool to do the job."

"You're being mean."  He stamped his foot.  Actually raised it and brought it down hard, like a difficult child on the verge of having a tantrum.

Zelda reacted by turning calm, like an adult authority figure confronting a misbehaving youngster.  "You see?" she said reasonably.  "That's what I'm always telling you about.  You let yourself get upset and then act unreasonably.  I try to talk rationally to you and get one of your overwrought responses.  It's as if I'm dealing with a preteen.  Your attitude certainly matches that immature body."

Georgie's nose started running.  Tears welled up in his pale blue eyes.  He began to tremble all over.  His wife had to make an effort to prevent herself from smiling victoriously.  Once again she had driven him to the brink of a mini-breakdown.  Zelda raised her chin and gazed down her nose at the poor excuse for a man.  She crossed her arms under her inviting bust.  Inclined her head slightly to one side.  Under her unrelenting but silent disapproval he came apart.  Suddenly he was weeping and gasping so hard it shook his slender form.  He balled up his small hands and held them against his tummy, elbows out, his fists so tight that they vibrated.

"Honestly," his wife told him with an irritated edge to her words, "it's like I'm trying to control an unruly child."

Her spouse began to bawl.  His face was distorted by a clownish frown, lower lip thrust out, cheeks pink from helpless frustration.  She went to the end table by the sofa and plucked a tissue from a dispenser-box, offering it to him wordlessly.  He accepted it and patted under his eyes, then blew his nose.  It took him several more minutes to get even limited control over his emotional turmoil.  He could have used another tissue or two but she intentionally didn't give him more.  Instead she let him use the only one he had until it was a soggy mess.

Then she said, a study in adult responsibility, in contrast to his childish display of temper, "Now you have even less time left before Rod gets here.  I hope he won't have to see a messy house."

As Zelda anticipated, the mention of her lover both motivated and frightened her husband.  He looked around like a trapped animal and then hurried away.  Soon he had a dust rag in his hand and was busily cleaning the edges of furniture that didn't need any attention.  She loved it when she got him so stressed that he couldn't think straight.  That was just one of the many subtle pleasures of reducing him to a simpering sissy.  And there was the bonus of being able to take a stallion of a lover.  She purred to herself at the thought of Rod's impending arrival. 

"You know," Zelda said to Georgie, "it would make more sense for you to clean up all those dirty dishes in the kitchen sink.  How do you think Rod would react if he went out there to get himself a beer and had to look at a mess you didn't bother to take care of?"

"But I'm... I was going to..."

"Don't bother with whatever you were going to say.  If you're willing to take any punishment you drive Rod to give you, that's your decision."

"No.  I don't want him to... do whatever he might do."

"You mean put you over his lap and spank your sissy bottom?"  She chuckled.  "It's almost as if you hope he'll tan your sitter."

"That's not true," Georgie told her, trying to sound more sure than he felt.

"And don't you get aroused, even a little bit, when he takes me in his arms and kisses me hard on the mouth?  Hmmm?"

"I can't help how I react.  It's not my fault.  That's because you don't let me... you know... have relations with you."

"Naturally, I don't.  What would be the point?  To remind me that I have a candy-ass for a husband?  To leave me longing for the real thing?  To make it even clearer, if that's possible, how inferior you are to Rod?"

"You can't... it isn't..."

Before he could come apart again she reminded him, "Dishes, Gigi."

He scurried off to wash them, putting a bit of swish into his narrow hips, how she had taught him to do.  That way of walking was almost second nature to him now.  Zelda silently congratulated herself on how well his sissy transformation was coming along.  She went to the kitchen and stood behind him as he put on the ruffled apron and oversized, yellow rubber gloves, and got busy with the backlog of washing.  She had purposely kept him doing other jobs earlier so that he would find himself in this fix as the time to finish grew short.  But now she had something to do herself.  Zelda needed to get ready for her bed partner, to make sure that he would have the maximum interest in demonstrating his considerable skills in the art of sexual athletics. 

When she returned, she had on the same nightie and panty set as her sissy husband, but in pale blue.  Her eye shadow was aquamarine.  Lipstick candy-apple red, bright and slick.  Georgie, almost done the dishes, glanced back over his shoulder and nearly dropped the dinner plate he was rinsing.  As he turned back to his work and placed the clean item into the drying rack, a shiver ran through him.  Rod would soon be there.  Zelda poured herself a glass of white wine and raised it to her husband in a mock salute.

"Here's to great sex," she declared.  "Something I never had with you.  But that's no longer a problem, now that you're not allowed the privilege of sharing the covers with me.   How have you been enjoying that nice dog bed I got you?"

"It's not very comfortable."

"Poor baby.  Would you rather I let you back into the spare bedroom?  Rod is done his work in there."

"Yes.  I'd rather sleep on a real bed, at least."

"Mmm hmm.  We'll have to see what we can do for you, Gigi.  For right now, you need to get out of that apron and those unfashionable gloves, and prepare to greet you-know-who when he gets here."

"All right," he said sulkily.  "I suppose I have to."

"There you go again.  Miss Bad Attitude.  My husband, the bratty brat.  Now go check yourself in he bathroom mirror.  Maybe freshen up those lips.  And then put yourself by the front door.  I think, with what a bother you've been lately, you should be on your knees.  That way maybe you'll  put Rod in a good mood and he'll go easier on you."  When he flounced out of the room she called after him, "I'm only trying to help you, Gigi-with-the-pee-wee-piddle-stick."

Zelda smirked at how foolish he was, still acting up when he should have been trying to keeping a low profile.  That was part of the fun, how he just wasn't capable of doing what was best for himself.  She would do whatever she could to provoke more brattish behavior.

Georgie came back, his lips wearing a fresh coat of pink-tinted gloss.  She decided he was ready and sent him to his post by the door.  He knelt on the carpet and wished he could run away and hide instead.  At least it sounded like he would be allowed a peaceful night's sleep in that extra bedroom.  He was glad Rod was done all his sawing and hammering and drilling in there. 

As the cuckold waited inside the door, he tried to brace himself for what was to come.  Then there was the sound of Rod's car pulling up out front, the powerful engine thrumming.  The door was already unlocked and the big man let himself in.  He stood there, towering over Georgie.  Zelda's boyfriend had on a dark green sport coat, navy blue T-shirt and black jeans, along with black leather shoes that were shined to a glossy finish.  Of course his footwear was buffed to perfection.  Georgie had polished and brushed those shoes a few nights ago, on the bedroom floor, while Rod had noisy animated sex with Zelda. 

"Hey," the cocky man said, sneering down at his victim.  "How's my favorite sissy tonight?  Getting all excited from thinking about how I'm going to plow your wife?  And how loud she'll get every time she climaxes?"

Without thinking, Georgie said, "Hasn't this gone on long enough?  It's just not right for you to keep on..."

He was silenced by the bottom of Rod's foot being planted against his chest to push him backwards.  Georgie tipped over, to end up a sprawl of arms and legs.  Rod unhurriedly placed the sole of his shoe on his prey's face and kept it there, but without applying any force. 

"I... I'm sorry," Georgie said, his voice distorted by the mild pressure of that dirty gritty leather on his mouth.  "I... err... misspoke.  Please forgive me.  Please.  Sir."

Rod casually ground his foot down, still not hard enough to inflict pain, just enough to smear the pink lip gloss.  When he stepped back, there was a messy area all around Georgie's mouth.

Rod observed, "You just never learn, Gigi.  I have a bad feeling I'm going to have to spank you or give some other punishment before the night is over.  But that's not all bad.  We both know that me smacking your pansy ass or doing whatever gets Zelda good and hot.  So, bad for you but good for me."  He chortled.  "Now I'm ready for a cold brew.  Hope you have the fridge all stocked up."

Getting onto his hands and knees, Georgie looked up at his conqueror and said, "Yes, Sir.  I put your beer in early so it would be nice and cold."

"Good girl."

Rod walked away.  Zelda appeared and met him with open arms.  They embraced and he gave her a deep unrushed kiss, his hands roaming down her back to that desirable bottom that her spouse was no longer allowed to touch, except when he had his face between her thighs and was eating her pussy.  Georgie got up in stages, checking to make sure he hadn't been hurt by his tumble.  He was fine.  As he got to his feet the happy couple went into the kitchen.  Zelda had left her drink there.  Now she picked up the stemmed glass as Rod pulled a bottle of beer from the fridge.  The capable man unscrewed the cap, chucked it into the sink, and enjoyed a long swallow, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped.  Georgie appeared and stood there wringing his hands.

Stepping away from Zelda, Rod looked back and forth between her and Georgie.  "Matching outfits.  I'll have to be careful not to get you two mixed up.  Hey, Gigi, I'll bet you'd like that, being the one with my cock in your mouth."

"N... no, Sir."

"Don't lie, girl.  You'll earn yourself a spanking."

"Please," the helpless husband pleaded.  "Can't I just go to the spare bedroom?"

"You'll be there soon enough," Rod assured him.  "But right now I want you around.  I can always use a good laugh.  Let's see you squat way down.  Yeah.  Just like that.  Now show us how you can duckwalk.  HA!  Look at you waddle.  Just when I think you can't look more ridiculous than you usually do, we try something new and it turns out I was wrong.  Now stick your thumbs in your armpits.  See?  Now it looks like you have little wings.  Keep waddling and flap those wings, Ducky."  Rod and Zelda laughed at the comical sight and sounds. 

"Oh, Rod," Zelda enthused.  "You have the best ideas. 

As Georgie was turning around he overbalanced and fell down.  Along with their cruel words it was too much for him.  He unwisely lost his temper and, getting onto his knees, told them how he was feeling.

"Listen," he started.  "You can't keep doing this to me.  I want some respect.  I'm not a sissy.  I should be allowed to have sex with my wife."  He belatedly realized that he had overstepped his bounds.  "I mean, at least some of the time.  If you think it's okay.  Or not."

Rod rolled his eyes.  "Gigi, you must have a learning disability.  We give you so many chances to act mature but you just get into a snit again.  It's so sad."

"I... it's just that you..."

The big man gestured for Georgie to get up.  "I'm sorry, Gigi.  But you've driven me to it.  I'm going to have to teach you a lesson.  Or at least try to.  Let's see if I can get the message through that thick head of yours."

"I'm sorry."

"That's not good enough.  Now come here.  Come to Uncle Rod."

"No, really.  I'll try harder."

"Are you refusing to be a good girl?"

"I'm not refusing.  It's only... only..."

"I want you right here in front of me, this instant, Gigi."

Georgie hated being talked to in that way.  But he was already in trouble and didn't dare make it worse.  He put himself close to Rod and stood with his arms at his sides, chin down. 

"No, no," Rod corrected.  "Look at me.  Do you understand why I have to be mean to you?"

"Yes," Georgie whispered.

"And that I hope you'll benefit from what I do?"

"Y... yes, Rod."

The stronger man -- much stronger -- reached out and caught the soft flesh of Georgie's underdeveloped bicep between his thumb and forefinger.  He pinched hard and twisted.  The husband whimpered and then squealed, bent forward as Rod pulled down.  When he was released, Georgie stood there, hunched over, a hand clapped over the sore area.  While the first area was still blazing, Rod did the same to his other arm, making Georgie yelp and squawk.  That let him with his arms crossed as he tried to nurse both injuries. 

Zelda said, "Why don't you do his cheeks, lover?  Make them nice and rosy."

"Sure," Rod agreed.  "Top cheeks or bottom?"

"Top first.  Then the others."

Georgie cringed.  This was terrible.  In it's way it was worse than the spanking he had been dreading.  Those he was at least used to.  This was new and so unhurried.  Zelda watched with bright eyes as Rod pinched both sides of her husband's face and slowly twisted.  The sissy wailed and flapped his hands impotently, retaining enough presence of mind to not grab Rod's wrists.  Georgie's feet marched in place as he tried to process the pain.  When Rod at last let go, both of the cuckold's cheeks bore bright red splotches.  Zelda licked her lips hungrily as she fed on his suffering.  She rubbed her thighs together. 

"Let's go, Gigi," Rod said coolly.  "Turn around, bend way over, and get those pretty pink panties down for me."

It was utterly disgraceful but Georgie did it anyway.  As he stood there in that shameful and revealing pose, Rod asked Zelda how she liked the show he was putting on.

"It is getting me so hot," she told him.  "I mean, I'm cooking.  My pussy is throbbing.  And I am so wet."

He chuckled.  "That's the idea.  And to help Gigi be a better sissy.  Now watch me decorate her tushy."

He proceeded to pinch and twist a half dozen times on each buttock, while Georgie squealed like a stuck pig.  By the time Rod was done, the helpless husband could barely keep from collapsing.  He was ordered to walk around in his still-bent-over posture while the couple observed and snickered.  At last he was permitted to stop moving, but not to straighten up.  Rod took Zelda in his arms and kissed her firmly.  He made a show of stroking her inviting body and nibbling her neck.  She was quivering with need. 

"I think it's time for all of us to go to the extra bedroom," Rod decided. 

"But I thought that's where I was going to be," Georgie objected.  "And you two would use the main bedroom."  He dragged his panties back up.

"Still getting yourself into trouble, I see."  Rod shrugged.  "No matter.  I can always pinch your smooth hairless thighs later.  And maybe your tummy.  But for right now we have to get to where we're going.  All of us.  And rather than have more backtalk from you, how about if I just do this?"

He grabbed Georgie, got him standing straight, picked him up as if he weighed next-to-nothing, and tossed him over his shoulder.  The cuckold gasped.  His wife grinned.  Rod gave him a few bounces, as if to emphasize how easy it was to manhandle him that way.  He carried the sissy to the optional bedroom.  Zelda opened the door and Rod walked in.  With his face against Rod's back, Georgie couldn't see the results of whatever work the big man had done in there.  Not until Rod set him on his feet, took him by one arm, and turned him around did the husband get the shock they had been waiting to give him.

The familiar bed was suddenly elevated several feet.  Supporting it was a cage, inside which Georgie saw a water dish and a a plastic bottle which, after staring at it, he realized was a handheld urinal.  Zelda went over and opened a small door at the foot of the bed and pointed to the tight opening.

"Welcome to your new man cave, Gigi.  Or should that be 'your new sissy space'?"  She chortled.  "Go on, panty-ass.  Get down and crawl in."

"But I can't.  I don't belong in a cage."

She went on, "This is what happens to bad brats like you.  They have to be under the bed instead of on it.  Big strong men like Rod are allowed on the bed... and in Wifey's puss.  That makes sense, don't you think?"

"It's not right."  His voice was strained.

"Excuse me?"  She sounded irritated. 

Georgie went on heedlessly, "You can't put your husband in a cage under the bed."

She paused thoughtfully and said, "You know, you're right.  I apologize.  No one can put their husband in something like that."  After allowing just enough time to visibly relax, she concluded with, "Now get in there."

"You just said you couldn't do that to me."

"No.  I said I couldn't do it to my husband.  But that's not who you are.  Not any more.  Now you're just a sorry sissy.  And on top of that, a bratty one.  Even now you're trying to tell me what I can and cannot do to you.  Typical brat behavior.  So shut up and get into your personal space."

"Or," Rod offered, "keep talking and get another dozen pinches.  After which I'll put you in there anyway.  It's up to you, Gigi."

"I... I..."  Georgie's shoulders slumped.  "I'll get in there." 

He got onto hands and knees to wriggle through the small door.  When he was all the way inside his wife crouched down and shut the entrance.  She put a padlock through the openings provided and snapped it shut.  Georgie gripped the bars and, lying on his belly, peered out at her.  She gave him an impish smile.

"Poor Sissy Gigi," she mocked.  "All dressed up and nowhere to go.  At least not until I let you.  If I can remember where I put that key.  Anyway, you have that lovely water bowl.  I even had your name put on it.  G-I-G-I.  With a little red heart to either side.  And you have that handy pee bottle in case your bladder gets full.  In fact, let's see how everything works.  Take a big drink for Auntie."

Why was she referring to herself that way?  He wasn't her nephew.  Or niece.  Rod squatted down alongside her.  Georgie had second thoughts about objecting further.  He moved toward the bowl, the space so low that he could barely move on hands and knees.  He lowered his face and lapped up plenty of water, even though he didn't want to have to use that embarrassing collection bottle later.  The  pair on the other side of the bars leered at him.  They kissed.  And then they stood, so that all he could see was their lower extremities .  As they undressed he watched their clothes hit the floor.  There were the sounds of wet kisses and murmured words.  Zelda went and dimmed the light.  Rod moved something on the other side of the room.  They came back and then their feet vanished as Rod lifted Zelda onto the elevated bed and heaved himself up there.

He told her, "I'll make some steps for you to get onto the mattress.  But for right now we have to break in this newly customized piece of furniture."

"The way you plow me with that fantastic cock of yours, we might break the bed."

"So you want me to hold back?"

"Hell no.  Break the bed and bang me until I scream."

He laughed.  "Can do.  But first let me get my hands all over those gorgeous tits and smooth hips."

She sighed loudly.  "I love it when you touch me like that.  Your hands are so strong but they can be so gentle, too.  Rub your incredible cock against my pussy without putting in in yet.  That feels so good."

After a quarter hour of spirited foreplay, Rod was ready to penetrate her.  She was moaning in anticipation.

Rod said, "Hey, Gigi.  Can I ask you for advice,  if I need any tips for screwing your hot wife?  Oh wait.  I forgot.  You're not allowed to do that anymore.  Or ever again.  But don't worry.  She get more than enough from me."

"Damn right," said Zelda.  "Inch after inch of it."

In his humiliating prison, Georgie felt a familiar stirring in his loins.  Oh no.  He was getting aroused from their sex talk and the insults they heaped on him.  What was wrong with his mind?  And why did his filmy nightie feel so nice against his hairless skin?  Had they really turned him into a perverted sissy?  He mewled piteously, hoping the sounds triggered by his wife's rising libido would hide his own vocalizations. 

"That's it, Rod," she encouraged.  "Give it to me now.  Fill me up.  Stretch my puss like my loser husband never could."

Rod called down to Georgie, "You hear that, pansy boy?  Bet you're starting to get off on all this."

How could he know?  That big bastard must have been pushing him in this direction all along.  And now those efforts had come to fruition.  Georgie dared to rub the palm of his hand over the front of his panties.  It felt so good.

"Oh, Rod," Zelda said breathily.  "That feels incredible.  It makes me think of more nasty games we can play with our sissy.  Like we need to get another cage.  One like a big birdcage."  She started gasping between her sentence fragments.  "For the other bedroom.  So we can lock him in it.  And he can watch us.  Screwing our brains out."

"Sounds good, baby.  I know a metalsmith who can do the job."

"And I want you to give Gigi the spanking of her life.  Really turn her bum fire engine red.  So I can hear her crying.  The entire time we're in bed some night."

"You sure?  Make her cry for the entire time?  Remember that I keep going for an hour or more."

"Believe me, I never forget how much stamina you have.  Not like the guy I no longer have sex with.  He's gone.  Replaced by a simpering sissy.  Isn't that right, Gigi?"

Georgie had his panties partway back down by then and his immature penis out.  "Yes, Ma'am.  Yes, Aunt Zelda."  He would say whatever he though she wanted to hear, as long as she would only keep him as wildly aroused as he was now.  "I'll never be any good in bed."

"Don't I know it.  But you can be a good sissy.  If you get control of your bad habits.  I wouldn't want to have to make you eat all your meals out of a pet bowl like the one your water is in.  But I'll have to, if you do bad things."

"I'm trying to be good," he lied as he gripped his undersized dick.

"That's my sweetie.  I'm glad.  Otherwise I might have to -- "  She was still taking deep breaths at the end of each string of words.  " -- to have Rod get me a riding crop to use on your rump.  And your thighs.  Then I might get a bondage sleeve, like I found on-line, to keep both of your arms behind your back.  That way, when you scrubbed the bathroom floor, you'd have to hold the brush between your teeth.  While you dipped it into the bucket of hot soapy water.  And if you dropped the brush.  I'd have Rod drill holes in the ends of the handle.  And rig up a head-harness.  So we could strap it on you and it would stay right there.  You could even sleep with it in your mouth.  So if you don't want any of those nasty things to happen, Gigi, be very obedient.  Don't be a brat who breaks our rules."

"No, Aunt Zelda."  He was pumping his little pink gherkin while Rod slammed the delighted wife with his rigid nightstick.  "I won't do anything wrong."

Thank goodness they couldn't see him jerking off.  He strained to keep from groaning.  It felt so incredibly good.  Even though he shouldn't be excited by the ceaseless sounds of their lovemaking.  But Georgie was pushing himself too far.  To the point of no turning back.  He grunted softly.  There was no way he could make a semeny mess and not be detected.  He thought fast and grabbed the urinal, popped the top -- quietly -- and positioned it with the tip of his dinky dick inside, as he continued vigorously whacking off.  Abruptly, Zelda was finishing.  Rod growled and let himself shoot his load.  It was all too much for the sissy in the cage.  His breath hissed through clenched teeth as he let himself spurt.  Moments later the three of them were settling back down. 

Once she had come down from her high, Zelda said, "I'm glad you weren't a disobedient brat."

"Well I wasn't," Georgie answered tartly, happy that he had fooled them. 

"Good girl," congratulated Rod.  "If not, we'd be obligated to punish you."

"You can forget that."  There was a sneer in Georgie's tone.  "I didn't do one thing wrong."

"We're proud of you," Zelda said.  "Now we won't have to do all those wicked things I talked about while I was in the throes of ecstasy."

"Fine."  Georgie was feeling like a winner.  "And maybe now you can let me out of here and finally come to your senses.  I need to be treated properly."

"So be it," his wife allowed.  "I'm so glad you didn't pull down your panties.  And handle your mini-milking-stick.  While you imagined we couldn't see you."

Sounding less assured, he responded, "Right."

"Because if you had, for instance, had your dingus out and jerked off into that piddle bottle, well, we'd have to come down really hard on you."

"With lots of pinching and spanking," Rod suggested.

"And something special for pulling your pecker.  But we couldn't see you."

Georgie was seized by nervous fear.  How had she guessed that he had masturbated, and how he disposed of his spunk?  He checked around the nearly dark room, or at least as much of it as he could see from his disadvantaged location.  Then he spied it.  Rod must have put it in place after she lowered the light.  Georgie recalled having heard him move something.  It was a mirror, like the type used in shoe stores to let customers see what they were trying on.  The reflecting surface would give someone on the bed a perfect view of the interior of the cage and, even in that shadowed space, they would be able to discern what was being done there.  Georgie realized he was totally busted.

"I... I'm sorry."

"For what?  For being a disobeying brat?  And a pickle pulling brat?  And a lying to Auntie and Uncle brat?"

"I... guess so."

"We know so.  Which means we're going to have to use all those awful punishments you heard me talk about while Rod was doing me the right way.  And then there's that special surprise I mentioned, for tugging your tinkle-toy."

"S... something... special?"

He heard the drawer in the bedside stand being opened.  A moment later, his wife's hand hung down, an object dangling from between thumb and fingers. 

Know what this is, Gigi?"

She had shown it to him on-line earlier in the week, though at the time she didn't call any special attention to it.  He swallowed with difficulty.

"It's..."  He had trouble getting the words out.  "... a chastity tube."

"That's right.  A cock lock.  But less than a tube.  It's the smallest model they had.  Even your little prick will be squashed down to almost nothing in this.  Once it's on you, even getting a tiny bit excited will be very uncomfortable.  So you'd better be careful not to do anything else bratty, which might make me think of giving you extended sessions of nipple teasing.  Oops.  I gave myself the idea and now I can't get it out of my head.  Too bad."

"But you cheated.  You broke the rules.  You weren't honest with me."

"We didn't cheat," Rod patiently pointed out.  "Because there are no rules.  And we had to be a little dishonest to help check for bratty behavior.  And see what we discovered?  A brat fiddling with her finger-dick.  So it's going to be punishment time for quite a while."

"And," Zelda added with sadistic relish, "chastity time until further notice, which should be until about... mmm... I can't count that far ahead."

"But why?" Georgie wailed.

"Because, Gigi," his wife reminded him.  "Instead of trying to be a husband you just kept on being what you really are -- an annoying brat."