Sweet & Sentimental! By Throne (17 Pages) (Patreon)

Sweet & Sentimental!

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.

SWEET AND SENTIMENTAL by Throne

I was at my computer, dressed in panties and my long, pink-champagne nightgown. What I was wearing felt so good against my smooth satiny skin. Instead of one of my wigs I had my natural hair, which is collar-length, up in ponytails at the sides of my head. For make-up I had on just a touch of blush and some pink-tinted lip gloss. I was in the middle of reading a newly posted story on my favorite site, Make Believe Mania, when I heard the front door open. I tensed up inside and my eyes froze on the line of type I was in the middle of. It was about a guy being forced to go shopping for lingerie with his wife while he was in full drag.

Before I could react further, Karma entered the room and put herself behind me. I sat there with my face grown warm, caught with my favorite reading material. She set her hand on my shoulder.

"Well, well," my wife said, cool and calm. "Why are you in that sexy sleepwear, Danny? And what's that you're reading?"

"I... it... sometimes I just like to dress this way, dear." I made a soft throat-clearing sound. "And this is a story by a writer I like, who uses the name Queening Chair."

"Oh?" Was she shocked? Angry? About to inflict some terrible form of payback for my sissy indiscretion? Instead of any of that she wanted to know, "What's it about?"

This wasn't going to be easy. "Well, there's a husband whose wife is feminizing him. She has him wearing these latex panties, with his ... um... male parts tucked down and back so it looks like he doesn't have any. And there's a matching latex bra, with breast forms in it, so it appears that he has boobies. And then, right after she puts cosmetics on his face and a short silver wig on his head, there's a knock at the door."

She gave my shoulder a squeeze, her nails pressing slightly into the flesh. "Read part of it to me."

That made me shudder. I licked my lips, tasting the flavored gloss, and began. "The doorbell rang. Teeny had to answer it. His wife Carmen, her dark eyes flashing, full figure well displayed by the catsuit she wore, thick black hair bouncing as she moved, followed him. He opened the door and there stood her lover, Maximillian. He gave the sissy a toothy grin and said, 'Would it be okay if I come in and make wild passionate love to your lovely wife, who I love to take to bed while you watch and whimper?' Teeny, which was the feminized husband's femme name, could only nod and wave the big man into his home.

"HA!" Karma slid her hand down further, to diddle my nipple through the thin material of the nightgown. "What a coincidence. My lover, Reynaldo, should be here any minute. He's always so eager to drag me into the bedroom for an hour of making me writhe and sweat and moan. And of course we'll make you watch."

That had me breathing hard. The idea of being cuckolded always excites me. And having my bride play with my nipples -- she got started on the other one too -- never fails to make me stiff.

"Y... yes, darling."

"And I see your miniature dick is trying to fight its way through those panties. It makes such a small bump in them. With a tiny tool like that, it's no wonder you're a sissy."

There was a long pause before she stopped tantalizing me, leaned down to press her lips against the side of my neck, and blew through them to make a razzing sound. I relaxed and turned my swivel chair so I could look at her. Karma is short like me, with a sweet round face, plump figure, and her dark hair worn short, with bangs. She held my face between her hands and kissed me tenderly on the mouth.

"That's quite a story you're reading," she said. "You really like the ones with the cheating wives."

"They definitely work for me," I admitted sheepishly. "But I like other kinds too. This writer uses all sorts of themes. Guys being dominated by lesbians, turned into real females, made to work in drag clubs, and even turned into objects or items of clothing." She likes me to be honest about my interests, so I added, "And sometimes it's guys being, um, controlled by other guys."

"Big manly ones like Maximillian, I'm sure. Do you think he'll turn out to be the husband's old school bully?"

"Maybe. That's another plot element that Queening Chair uses sometimes. But I never know what he'll come up with next. That's why it's funny when some reader will occasionally leave a comment saying that all his stories are the same."

"Well, I'm glad he mixes them up. It gives us more ideas for games to play. Like right now it could be the one where a wife comes home and catches her hubby playing dress-up." She

changed her tone to sharp and threatening. "How long have you been getting all dolled up like this when I'm not around?"

I fell into character and whimpered, "I've been doing it since I was a teenager. And didn't stop after we got married."

"I don't like you keeping secrets from me. Especially not such naughty ones. Your bad behavior means you're going to get some -- discipline."

"Yes, Ma'am," I said breathily, my voice quivering. That was partly acting but also from excitement. "Are you going to spank my fanny?"

"Not right now, Didi." I loved it when she used my girly name. "I'm going to turn you into my sex slave."

A few whacks on the bottom would have been a nice prelude to serving her, but I understood. My wife gets very aroused by having me as her willing submissive, when I'm putting her pleasure first and expecting no traditional reciprocation. That is, she relishes me eating her pussy and not wanting anything in return beyond being teased and denied. It's a combination that works perfectly for both of us, though we mix in other elements at times. She snapped her fingers and motioned for me to stand. I quickly put the computer into 'sleep' mode to save power. Even if you're about to have a kinky scene with your loving spouse, that's no excuse to waste electricity. Karma has always been aware of environmental issues. She got a lot of her thinking from her

parents, who gave her that New Age name. They also imparted a liberal attitude about relationships, which I'm grateful for every time we enact one of our Dom/sub scenarios.

In the bedroom she made me undress her. Karma had on a rather plain blouse and slacks, plus slip-on flats. Unerotic but a nice contrast with her curvy figure as I slowly revealed it. Her undergarments were mundane too but, again, kept my focus on her shapely contours. When she was naked and put her hands on her swelling hips, I nearly melted with sissy submissiveness. My wife cupped my chin in her hand to kiss me full on the mouth, her tongue lashing against mine, making it clear who was in charge when it came to sex.

She told me, "I want to look as bossy as I feel. Get me the vest."

Just hearing her say that made me my nerve endings tingle. I went to her side of the closet and took out the hanger with a leather vest on it. Reverently, I took the symbol of her bedroom leadership and held it out to her. She turned away, giving me a good view of her round backside, and drew back her arms. I slipped it onto her and she shrugged it into place. When she turned toward me once more, the dark halves of the garment, oxblood red, framed her pale breasts and their wide rosy aureoles. She took me in her arms and pulled me against her. I trembled as she gave me another probing kiss, her bust against the front of my nightgown, the scent of leather released by the warmth of our bodies. My erection was held upright by our locked-together

pelvises. Karma ground her hips into mine, making me feel even more weakly girlish, if that was possible.

"All right, you," she ordered with authority. "Into my bed. Now."

It was our bed, of course, but I was thrilled whenever she identified it so possessively. And I should point out that, despite how she had earlier demeaned my penis for being small, I've an average six inches in length, and on the thick side, though my genitals look odd to me from being kept hairless. Pretending to be deficient in the dick department is a potent fantasy. Pretending that your wife has made you impotent is also a potent fantasy, if that's not contradiction in terms. As I laid there she grabbed some cosmetics from her dresser and took a minute to dramatize my eye make-up. As eager as she gets, she still sometimes draws things out on a whim. As Karma finished, I remembered one time, several months ago, she had made me crawl behind her to bed, an experience that I often replayed in my mind. Her round bottom had mesmerized me as it moved. I wanted that to happen again but try not to be pushy about those things. No topping from the bottom. On the other hand, when I do want to convey a special desire, I have a simple way of doing it.

If I say, 'You're not going to make me crawl to the bedroom, are you?' or 'Please don't make me crawl to the bedroom', it means that's exactly what I want her to do. Still, I try to pace these matters. At the moment it was clear that she had her sex drive in high gear and needed the treatment that would shift it back down. My wife leaned over and gave me one final intimate kiss. After

that I would be the one administering the lip-locks, though not on the mouth. Karma stretched out on her back and spread her legs invitingly. Another man would have thought of plunging his rigid cock into her and pumping furiously, intent on selfishly satisfying his own needs. Instead, I got into position on my belly, lips nearly touching labia, sniffed and salivated. Her feminine center sent forth a seductive scent.

She said, "Take your time, Didi. You know how I like it. Be my obedient little sissy and maybe I'll let you do something fun afterwards. I might even let you... Well, we can wait and see about that."

Really? She might allow me to... finish? If so, how? With her hand? Or mine, while she watched and made nasty but exciting comments? After my wife's remarks I wanted to rush her through a few orgasms to get my reward, if there was any waiting for me. Of course, she might just be teasing about that. She had specified that I should take my time, which created a tension between wanting to hurry and not being permitted to. I started my tongue moving, up and down, in and out, and my lips working on her protruding clitoris. Her flavors intoxicated me. Hints of coffee and bacon, with a piquant suggestion of seafood melange. Contact with her moist slippery surfaces turned my mouth into an erogenous zone. After a short while I sensed Karma building toward a climax and slowed down, not enough to spoil her mood, only sufficiently to prolong her pleasure. It worked. Not until several minutes later did I switch to concentrating on her love button, which was guaranteed to put her over the top. Sure

enough, she was soon moaning loudly, with tremors running through her legs, and hips twitching, all of which led to an explosive finale. She peaked and then descended slowly.

Knowing her likes, I continued sliding my tongue over her slicked nether lips, maintaining her in just enough of an elevated state that it was simple to keep her going toward a second quaking eruption of sexual energy. After that I backed off until she was just basking in an afterglow. Instead of licking or sucking I merely kissed her external lips every few seconds. She purred happily. Then my wife delivered a surprise.

Karma suggested, "Why don't you lower those pretty panties of yours, Didi? And hike up your lovely nightgown. Then get into the missionary position."

I didn't know where this was going but it was promising. I couldn't remember the last time my penis was in close proximity to her vagina. I cautiously assumed the pose, propped up on my forearms, chest above hers.

"Is this okay?" I asked in my whispery Didi voice.

"That's fine. Now why don't you touch my pussy with that baby dick of yours, sissy? I'm giving you permission."

That was a pleasant development, though I immediately began to wonder if the privilege came with a price. I further rearranged what I was wearing and wriggled my hips forward until the tip of

my prick bumped up against the warm wetness of her cleft. It felt glorious. I had to take several deep breaths to steady myself. She chuckled at my helplessness and brought her hands up. My wife began to lightly stimulate my nipples through the silkiness of the nightgown. I gasped and experienced a surge of need. If I could just penetrate her it would be heavenly.

As if reading my mind she said, "That's as far as you're allowed to go, sissy. Poor baby. Your teeny weenie is all ready for action but you're only allowed as far as the entrance and not inside. How does it feel, Didi? Hmmm? Is it nice to have your itty-bitty touching my precious pussy?"

"Yessss," I hissed breathlessly. "It's incredible. Thank you."

She chuckled. "Go ahead. Buck your hips. Pretend like you're a real male and not a girly man. Act like you don't have your long hair in that cute style, and you're not dressed like a lingerie model, and you don't smell like flowery perfume, and your pecker's not half the size of what a woman wants. Make believe, Didi. But don't you dare go any further."

It was maddening to be that close to the goal guy's seek and be forbidden to proceed, not by dire suggestions or direct threats, but simply because my wife told me NO. I pumped my hips and groaned from frustration.

"Pleeease." The word came out choked.

"Please what? Be allowed to go the rest of the way into me? No, no, no. We both know that's not going to happen, Didi. I like you yearning for it all the time. That makes you a better sissy pussy-eater. And frankly, it gives me a psychological kick, knowing that I'm denying you what you have every right to expect, or would if you weren't a short-dicked pansy. Does that make you sad?"

"I'm just... I only want... I need to..."

"Awww. Your balls must be so backed up. I should let you finish. Still, it won't be fully satisfying if you have to do it with only that mini-head in me. It might be more merciful to simply make you reverse direction and go back to the old no-contact rule. What do you think?"

I sounded close to tears as I begged, "Please, just let me have some release. I know it won't be ideal. But it'll be enough for... for..." I was feeling like a character in one of those stories by Queening Chair or some other writer whose fantasies I was drawn to. I finished with, "It will be enough for a sissy like me."

"Okay, I guess." She sighed. "You caught me in a generous mood."

Her fingers became more active on my chest, gently tweaking and tugging my nipples. All that kinky pillow talk, combined with the diddling she had already done, had me on the verge. This put me over the edge. Sooner than I would have liked, my balls pulsed

and I was suddenly spurting my load, not when I wished to but when my lovingly dominant wife deemed the time right. I released several heavy shots and then it subsided. I was panting and murmuring, still supporting myself with my arms. She gradually slowed her playing with my chest and then ceased it. The whole episode had been intense.

I was emboldened by how much she had catered to my fantasies. At the risk of spoiling an amazing happening, I dared to push for something I had only read about.

Inching back just a bit, I said guiltily, "I'm sorry. I made a big mess down there. Do you want me to clean it up?"

She decided, "That would be a good idea. Your spunk is all over my pussy. Because you didn't get inside with more than just the head, everything is right there where you can reach it."

"I could get some tissues," I suggested. "Or a nice warm washcloth." This was the pivotal moment. My hope could be dashed in an instant. I didn't even know if it was an honest desire or just the influence of all those stories. I carefully offered, "Or if you think I was a bad sissy for making my mess where I did, and you wanted to teach me a lesson, you could have me clean you up... um..."

I left the thought uncompleted, hoping he would see where I had been headed. There was a long moment of silence, suspended

seconds of palpable stress. Karma's pretty face went from unreadable to soft and she got a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Maybe a misbehaving sissy like you should be made to undo what she did a different way. Without tissues or a washcloth. What do you think that would be instead, Didi?"

She wasn't going to come right out and say it. Probably she wanted to make me shame myself by stating the thought out loud. Karma knows that mortification translates to arousal for me. Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind, though in this case it was different that what The Bard originally meant.

Licking my lips, I told her, "For letting myself get overexcited and lose control, I think I should have to lick up that awful deposit I left there."

"That's correct. You do have to lick it up. And if you give me another bang-up orgasm, that would help settle the score even better."

As I moved back down to my previous position I was smiling inside. This was incredible. A longstanding fantasy was about to be fulfilled. At the same time, the prospect of what I was about to do was in some ways unpleasant. And it was an act that couldn't be forgotten by either of us once I had committed it. It might be a step forward or two steps back. I knew my wife would be agreeable if I decided to change my mind right then. Instead of retreating like that, I got my mouth directly in front of her pussy

and planted a kiss on her mound, just above her clit. She sighed and I took a long lick from bottom to top, gathering a generous helping of my own cream, taking it into my mouth, and forcing myself to swallow the salty gob. She wriggled her hips with barely suppressed urgency and I understood the message. She was turned on and didn't want any hesitation. Quite the opposite. I went to work vigorously. She reacted with enthusiasm.

By the end she had not one more climax but three, reassuring me that she liked what had just occurred. It also told me that she would almost certainly want replays on a regular basis. That would be selfish of her. In this case, selfish was good. I was delighted by the new addition to the dynamic of our relationship. After Karma came down from the last orgasm, she invited me to cuddle against her. I love that position, with me lower down than her, nuzzling her breasts, feeling possessed and cared about. She idly toyed with one of my ponytails. Then she rolled onto her side and drew my face into the valley between her chubby boobs.

"That was fun," she said. "It opens up a lot of possibilities. You'll have to let me know if I'm pushing you beyond your limits. I think I'll start with telling you all about my lover Maximillian. Or as I call him, Maxim. Or would you prefer Reynoldo? Yes, let's go with that. In fact, let's make him a Count. I'd like that. Count Reynoldo. Riding on a tall stallion. Hmm. My stallion riding on a stallion. Like one of the handsome studs in those romance novels I read. Don't worry, Didi. I have no intention of ever cheating in real life. I love you too much for that. But it's a terrific fantasy. Don't you think so?"

"Yes," was all I could say, overcome by her now taking us to another new level. It sounded as if she'd been reading stories on my other favorite site, Night Visitor, with its endless cuckold variations.

"I think I'll start out by coming home from dates with him and telling you what a fantastic lover he is. And then making you go down on me to clean up after him." Her excitement was audible. "In fact, lets' start that right now. I'm good for one more climax."

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