I'M A SISSIFIED HUSBAND! By THRONE (22 Pages) (Patreon)

I’m a SISSIFIED HUSBAND!

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.

I’m a SISSIFIED HUSBAND!

By THRONE

"I love your big cock," my wife Madge said sleepily. "But it's the middle of the night, baby. And you did such a fantastic job of screwing me earlier. Can't this wait until morning?"

"Not really. I woke up with a hard-on. My tool needs immediate sucking."

"But lover, you didn't clean it after it was in me. It's covered with my dried juices and your sticky cream. I mean, EWW. I don't want my mouth on it while it's so icky."

"But it's not going to go down on its own."

"I know. You are such a horny bastard. Of course, that means I get to have it inside my puss all the time. No complaints there. And if it was clean, I'd have it halfway down my throat right now. While I massaged your big balls. But it's so messy. I can smell it even while it's under the covers. How about if you shower, and then I'll give you a blowjob that'll make your eyes spin around?"

It was so erotic to hear her talk like that. Lying in the dark, I pictured her sweet face and plus-size figure, her long blond hair and the naturally seductive way she stood and moved. She was pure sexual energy in a stunning package.

"Come on," she coaxed. "Get freshened up and I'll lick and suck and deepthroat like you won't believe."

It was so compelling to hear her talk dirty like that. I only wished it was me she was speaking to. Instead, her voice and the deep tones of her lover Kaz were reaching me through the intercom

speaker on a baby monitor, next to my bed. I was in the spare bedroom that the two of them had converted into my sissy sanctuary. The bed was a juvenile model, painted white, with gold trim. The dresser and vanity table matched it. Both windows had pink curtains. When the sun came through them, it tinted everything that color. There were framed pictures of unicorns and princesses on the cream-colored walls. My bedspread, bordered with ruffles, was decorated with cartoon images of circus animals and had been sprayed with flowery perfume. In fact, the atomizer that Madge had used was sitting on the dresser, along with cosmetics, hair products, a few dolls, and a small, giftwrapped box whose contents were unknown to me.

My wife said to her bedmate, "There's another way you could get your tool taken care of."

He chuckled. "You mean call the candy-ass?"

"Sure. That's one of the few things my husband is good for. Sucking your cock. And eating my pussy."

I cringed and pulled my scented spread up over my nose and mouth. As many times as I had served them orally, I had never done it after they had sex and hadn't cleaned up yet. The thought of it was disgusting. But it wasn't as if I could refuse to do that, or anything else they wanted. Not after a year of marriage to my tall dominating wife. She had spent the first six months breaking me down and turning me into a reluctant sissy. Then she had acquired her hulking boyfriend and invited him to join in controlling me. Every time I thought they had reached the limits of disgracing and mistreating me, they went further.

"Hey, Patti," my bride called through the speaker. "Pucker up and come here." Kaz laughed. I longed to be called Patrick instead of my that girly version of my name.

The only illumination in my room was from a nightlight that was the face of a clown. But I didn't need to see myself to know what a shameful sight I made. On my head was a large puffy nightcap with lace around the elastic perimeter. My shoulder-length hair was dyed pale blond and tucked up under it, but I felt one long lock falling down over my forehead. I hadn't had any trace of facial hair since the laser treatments they got me for my last birthday, which had also left me permanently smooth over my entire body. My lips were coated with the pink balm they made me wear to bed every night. A long-sleeved cotton nightgown reached from its Peter Pan collar to my ankles, where it was trimmed with embroidered flowers. I tucked my feet into oversized, fuzzy slippers and went toward the master bedroom.

When I got there the overhead light was on. Of course, it was. They wouldn't want to miss seeing me humiliate myself. Kaz was stretched out, with my wife snuggled against him. He is big and hairy, with a sturdy build beginning to go to fat. As I entered the room, Madge swept back the sheet to reveal his outstanding asset, a cock that's seven inches soft and nine-plus when it's hard. His shaft is thick, even for its length, with a heavy knob. It was draped over his hirsute thigh. I could see the dull sheen of dried sexual fluids. There was a slight smell of recent intercourse in the air, which I knew came from his unwashed crotch and her similarly uncleaned pussy. My stomach lurched.

"Patti," my wife said. "We have a little problem." She knew I had already heard everything over the intercom speaker on my nightstand but delighted in repeating the unpleasant details. "Kaz's gorgeous cock is covered with my pussy juices and his spunk. It's been that way for hours, so it's really yucky." She kissed him lightly on the shoulder. "He needs to have a mouth on it ASAP, but I can't bring myself to do it while the thing is all smelly and unclean. But we know you've gotten to be a terrific cocksucker, and as kinky as you are, you'll probably enjoy the way it tastes. Right?"

They liked defining me that way, as if I liked not only having to look and act like a sissy, but also wanted to undergo new and creative humiliations all the time. The worse they were, according to the nasty pair, the better I liked them. Already I had been made to use my mouth on their feet. And I'd had to bury my face in Madge's armpits. After those distasteful acts I was always expected to thank them and say how much I had appreciated it because I'm -- supposedly -- such a pervert.

That was why, when she asked for my agreement, the only answer I could give was, "Yes, dear. Thank you. I can't..." (Choke) "... wait to..." (gag) "... get my mouth on it."

She told Kaz, "There we go. Problem solved. And I'm sure we'll both have fun watching him work. I mean, because we know he's having a good time while he does it."

Madge got up on one elbow so she could give him a kiss. He reached over to fondle one of her massive breasts. I couldn't look away from the high swell of her broad hips, those full thighs, and

her long shapely legs. As she rolled against him, I even got an eyeful of her the wide hemispheres of her queen-sized bottom. She was magnificent. I was married to her. But her affections and that zaftig body were reserved for Kaz. That's what can happen when a husband is small and meek, and cursed with a small dick. I mean, I'm three inches soft and five hard, which is only a bit below average. Right? Still, I was no competition for the heavy hammer between her sex partner's powerful thighs.

I got onto the foot of the bed, pulling my nightgown up to get it out of the way. Then I went down on my forearms, to bring my face closer to the goal. I caught a more potent whiff of what I would soon be mouthing. The sour reek of stale semen assailed my nostrils. The nearer I got, the stronger it was. My eyes watered. Out came my obedient tongue and, with a sob, I took my first lick. The flavor was sickening. I glanced up the length of his body and saw that Madge was rubbing his broad chest and toying with his nipples. His enormous cock twitched and began to grow. He hadn't been exaggerating when he said it needed attention posthaste. After a few more applications of my tongue, it had attained its full dimensions. I licked a swelling drop of clear viscous liquid from the tip. Then I stretched my lips wide to cap the bulging head. It filled my mouth to its limits. I sucked hard and was rewarded with his contented sigh. The wet sounds of my efforts were echoed by my wife giving him sloppy kisses with lots of tongue action. I bobbed up and down on his tool several times before taking my mouth off it, so I could slurp up and down its considerable length. I remembered that he liked to have his heavy balls licked and made sure to do that too. It was good that I did, because they needed laving as well.

My bride wriggled down so she was even with his midsection. Her plump fingers went around his stalk and slowly pumped it, while I concentrated on the head and a few inches below that. There was plenty for both of us to work on.

She hissed into my ear, "You get off on having his dirty tool stretching your jaws, don't you, Patti?"

With my tongue pressed to the floor of my mouth, all I could do was make a muffled sound of assent. She never tired of reinforcing that idea that I desired performing such repellant acts. Air whizzed through my nostrils. I swirled my tongue around Kaz's corona and used it to tease his frenum. All the tricks I had learned went into keeping him happy. A satisfied bull is a relaxed one, who is less likely to slap your fanny, pinch and twist your ears, or pin you to the wall and growl ugly threats at you.

The signs of imminent ejaculation were familiar to me. I braced myself mentally for what was about to happen. With just the head of his member sunk between my lips, I would receive a full load inside my mouth, rather than straight down my gullet. It's something you never get used to. And the way Madge was encouraging him to finish added to my disgrace. Kaz grunted and blasted his dick-spew against the roof of my mouth. There was so much that I had to gulp some immediately, to prevent it from leaking out around my lips. I forced it down while more was still coming. My cheeks were full. I made myself swallow again. Madge milked out added dollops of his rich cream. Not until he was fully drained, did she remove her hand. I mouthed him through a slow descent from the heights of ecstasy. He finally

slapped the side of my head to let me know I was done. I sat up on my haunches, gasping and trying not to sob.

"Damn," my wife said, no longer sounding sleepy. "Seeing Patti with your dong in her face was so exciting. Now my pussy is wet and needs some TLC. But that selfish poof took your cock all for herself."

"So," Kaz concluded, "she owes you a climax. And can clean up that mess I left in there, at the same time."

Madge chortled. "Yeah. I think I'm going to like feeding her those leftovers, especially because they've been in there, staying warm, for hours. Naturally, the little freak will love a snack like that. Won't you, Patti Cakes?"

"Y... yes, dearest," I managed to say without sounding as nauseated as I felt.

The three of us adjusted our positions and soon I was poised to begin my second clean-up of the night. The fumes that rose from her well-used twat were worse than those that had clung to Kaz's cock. His plentiful spunk had been inside her for so long, spoiling, and now I had to collect and consume as much as I could. My throat constricted. I took a long lick of her labia, from bottom to top, gathering up the gummy substance and trying not to dwell on how it had gotten there. The idea that I had my mouth where her stud had so recently plunged his masterful cock in, again and again, made me shudder with revulsion. Even so, I continued to wash her outer lips with my saliva. Then I got my tongue inside and scooped out a surprising amount of thickened,

foul tasting semen. Her body shifted slightly as the two of them locked lips for another spit-swapping kiss. He was pawing her chest-melons and tweaking their nipples. She moaned with pleasure and writhed her wide hips, rubbing her mound against my lower face.

Soon I knew that Madge was mounting toward an orgasm. When she was getting ready to peak, her pelvis would twitch. I held onto her well-padded thighs. It was so sexy to hold her that way. My dick got stiff. That had been happening more and more during cunnilingus. They were getting me hooked on eating her, which was by then the center of my sex life. I was allowed to masturbate, but only rarely, and then not without supervision. It was so difficult to relieve myself with one or both of them there, smirking and making comments. For the past ten days, they hadn't permitted me to drain my balls at all.

I put Madge over the top. She cried out and had a gusher of a climax. I ingested her excess secretions and kept giving her clitoris tongue-tickles, though at a slower rate than before. I knew how to ease her through the final stages of her finales. Her whole body relaxed. I unfastened my mouth from her pudenda and looked at that inviting figure, those generous contours, and wanted to weep from frustration. My dream woman belonged to someone else, and my balls ached with backed up cum.

Slowly, I retreated off the foot of the bed, to stand there with hands passively at my sides. I knew that washing my face or rinsing my mouth were forbidden. It was bad enough when I had simply gone down on one or both of them. But now, having had

to clean them of hours-old, male and female spend, it was many times worse.

Drained and ready to sleep again, Madge told me, "Go back to your room, Patti." She murmured something to herself. Then, with it sounding like an afterthought, she added, "When you come down to breakfast, bring that wrapped present that's on your dresser. I know you been simply dying to find out what it is." She purred languorously.

I returned to my juvenile bedroom and got back into bed. As I lay there, the scents of sexual activity mingled with the perfume on my covers. Even though my penis was throbbing insistently, I knew better than to touch it. Any more time without release, and it would become maddening. I wondered what was in that box on my dresser. And what new indignities the morning would bring. Those thoughts tormented me for at least an hour before I drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up, the unwelcome smells were still on my nose and lips, the awful taste on my tongue. All of it had grown even more revolting while I slept. I got out of bed and put my fuzzy slippers on once more. I was almost out the door when I recalled that I was supposed to bring the little package with me. I took it and weighed it in my hand. Shook it. Still couldn't imagine what it held. Then I went down to the kitchen. The coffee finished brewing and I hurried to fill their mugs. His had the word KING on it, in big block letters. Hers said QUEEN in flowing script. I took her the container of cinnamon, in case she wanted to sprinkle some into her coffee. Madge had cooked and they each

had a plate of steak and eggs, with fried potatoes on the side. The aroma was mouthwatering.

Madge told me, "Your sissy diet breakfast is in the fridge. I'm sure you'll be able to recognize it."

I opened the door and immediately spotted a child's plate, with alternating rainbows and clouds with smiling faces, around its edge. In the center was a tall mound of gooey pudding, so sweet I could smell its sugary scent. I took it to the table and stood there.

"Go on," Madge encouraged. "You need those calories to keep your squishy butt nice and soft. And we'll keep feeding you that way until you get some man boobs."

I brought the serving up to my mouth and began to scoop it up with my tongue. I'm denied utensils. It was sickeningly sweetened. I cleaned up the entire, heavy serving, knowing what those calories and the many more that were promised, would do to my figure. My wife and her lover wanted me plump and even less masculine looking.

"Now," said Kaz, after I was done and had licked my lips, "time for your surprise. Open up the box, Patti."

"And don't make that sour face," my wife warned. "I don't want to see you all crabby. We might have to change your name to Crabby Patti."

I opened the box and, when I saw the device inside, froze up. It was a pink chastity cage. They made me fit the ring around my

genitals, passing each testicle through, one at a time. Then I had to fit the cup over my flaccid penis.

Madge said, "Jeez, Kaz. You must have got the smallest size they make. It's like he's stuffing his peter into a shot glass."

He laughed. "Well, this way there's no chance of him playing with himself."

"But he has to squirt his stuff once in a while, just for health reasons."

"I thought of that, too. You're going to love the solution I came up with."

I fitted the holes around the cup, over the short pegs protruding from the ring. A wire with loops on each end went through holes in the pegs. The loops were positioned over each other and a small padlock was passed through them. Once it was closed, the device would be on me to stay, unless someone took mercy and let me use the key. Or was what Kaz had in mind something else? They made me shut the lock and then Madge had me come close, so she could pull on the cruel device to make sure it was secure. She hurt my balls while proving that I couldn't remove it on my own. Because I hadn't been allowed to ejaculate for a while already, I was immediately aware of my need for relief.

As the days passed, Madge made sure to flaunt her sexy, plus-size body at me. She wore low-cut tops, tight slacks, and found endless excuses to strike erotic poses. At night she lazed around in nothing but a see-through, baby doll nightie. I was going crazy

from unmet needs. My balls ached. All I could think about was sex. It was hard for me to focus on my work, during the day, at my office job. Finally, I summoned up the nerve to ask if I was going to be granted some respite.

"You'll have to ask Kaz when he gets here," my bride told me.

As soon as the big man arrived, I broached the question to him. He smirked and said, "Sure. But you'll have to work for it. Let me get what i made for you. It's in my truck."

He went out to his pick-up, one with gargantuan tires. What he came back with was covered by a sheet. He took it to the den and unveiled it. I stood there in a much shorter version of one of my cotton nightgowns. The only other thing I had on was a pair of unflattering panties. What I was staring at was a captain's chair, painted white, with the legs cut short. On its wooden seat was mounted a thick dildo, aimed straight up. I swallowed drily and asked for an explanation.

"It's simple," he told me. "You sit your pansy ass on there, getting the fake cock up inside you. Then you ride yourself up and down on it, while you get it to touch your prostate. If you screw yourself that way enough, it should make you pop your cork."

Madge giggled and clapped her hands. "That is too clever, Kaz. You're some kind of genius."

I objected, "I can't do that. It would be disgraceful."

"Right," Kaz agreed. "Especially because you're only allowed on the chair if one or both of us are with you. We don't want to miss the show."

"I get it," my wife concluded. "He can refuse and leave his nuts full and sore. Or he can take a ride on that ass-stretcher, with us as his audience. Either way, he loses, and we win."

"You got it, babe," Kaz told her. To me he said, "Take your time to think it over. Weeks, if you want. I don't mind. Like she said, win-win for us." He laughed raucously at the terrible fix into which they had put me.

At first, I was determined not to use the chair. But little by little my resistance wore away. I grew more and more desperate. My world centered around relieving the pressure in my testicles. At last, I gave in, much to my shame.

"All right," I told Madge. "I'm ready to use the chair." "Like before," she said, "you have to talk to Kaz."

I whimpered. When he arrived later that evening, I made my embarrassing request. He sneered and explained that, because I had waited so long, it wouldn't be until the weekend. I had no choice but to accept that and spend the next several days living with my decision and suffering from anxiety.

When the time came, Madge had something special picked out for me to wear while I mortified myself. It was a bra and panty set, in pale yellow and transparent. The top was for a flat-chested girl, so

it worked on my soft, slightly swollen torso. My nipples showed through. The panties were tiny, with a split in the seat, and did nothing to hide my cock lock. I went to the chair and stood with my back to it.

"Whoa," Kaz said cheerily. "Don't you want to grease up that rammer-jammer before you take it up the butt?"

"Oh. Yes," I whispered fearfully. "Thank you."

"No problem, Patti Poof." He held out an aluminum can, without a label. There was the handle of a teaspoon sticking out of it. When Kaz passed it under my nose I smelled the distinctive odor of bacon. The big man explained, "It's drippings from when I fry bacon or sausages with my breakfast. I save it to add flavor to other things. But I'm going to let you have some to get that rubber dingus slippery."

"Okay," I said uncertainly. That sounded too thoughtful to be coming from him.

He passed the can to Madge. She scooped up a heavy gob of the greasy congealed stuff and held it out to me. "Here you go, Patti. Get this in your mouth and then act like you're giving one of your sissy blowjobs to your new rump-lover."

As much as I didn't want to taste that cold glop, to feel it on my tongue, I had no alternative. I opened wide and she inserted the spoon. My lips closed and she slowly withdrew it, leaving behind the disgusting stuff. The higher temperature of my body started to liquify it. Some ran down my throat, making me gag. I quickly

bent way over and took in the dildo's head, getting as much of the disgusting fat on it as I could. When I straightened up, my stomach was roiling. Madge spooned up and even bigger portion. On the verge of crying, I blinked back tears and accepted it. This time they encouraged me to get it all over the shaft as well. When I was at last done, I had ingested more, but the whole fake cock was glistening. I once again turned to face away from the low seat. By holding the arms and easing my body down gradually, moving my bottom an inch to this side and then an inch to the other, I got the tip of the penetrator against my tight pucker. As you can imagine, I was having second thoughts about my choice. Yet I still had an overwhelming need to achieve an ejaculation.

My tormentors watched avidly as I lowered myself further, getting the head of the anal invader inside me. I groaned and eased down several more inches. It was totally demeaning. As I went further, they chuckled and made comments.

Madge said, "You seem to be enjoying it, Patti."

Kaz offered, "I guess you were that queer all along, eager to have your cherry popped, and just needed help getting more in touch with your sissy side."

I whimpered, "Yes, Ma'am. Yes, Sir. Thank you -- OUCH -- both."

Then I descended the final inches and let my weight rest there for half a minute. My wife advised me to start going up and down on the girthy sex toy that was stretching my ring. Kaz told me to try different angles, until I brought it into contact with my prostate. I sniffed and did as I was told. It was uncomfortable and the smell

and taste of bacon fat were making me queasy. Then I located the receptive spot that could -- I hoped -- trigger an orgasm. It would feel so wonderful to have that persistent need fulfilled, I told myself. The sight I made was hilarious to the watchers. They laughed as I struggled to achieve satisfaction. That auto-violation, or whatever you could call it, was sheer entertainment to them.

I whimpered and burbled and sniffled and mewled. But I was getting closer to my goal. My shameful dance went on and on. Tears streamed down my hot cheeks. I tried to close my eyes but Kaz made me open them. Madge stepped closer and put a concerned expression on her pretty face.

"Poor Patti," she said with sympathy that I knew was just an act. "Let me help you get where you need to go."

She reached out and got her fingers on my nipples, through the thin material of the bra. As she began to lightly pinch and tug and twist, fresh currents of erotic energy enlivened my system. I gasped and moved my impaled bottom in short jerks.

"Come on, Patti," she coaxed. "You can do it. Work that girly G-spot. Make some squirts for wifey. Show me what a man you are. A man or something that used to be one." She guffawed. "Let's see you put yourself over the top."

She gave my nips a final tweak and stepped back. I was close. So close. I was aware of how absurd I must appear, holding onto the chair's arms, humping myself on that rubber rod, panting and perspiring, my lipstick-decorated mouth hanging open, cheeks probably bright pink. It was coming. Coming. Arriving. I cried

out as my climax struck. The semen flowed. Actually, it made one halfhearted spurt. Then oozed. Dribbled. Leaked. It joined the spreading puddle of melted bacon fat on the seat. I had done what I'd set out to, but it was so disappointing. The backed-up sensation was gone, but there had been very little pure pleasure to go along with that improvement. It had been a reduced and not completely worthwhile ejaculation. Worse, I sensed that my need hadn't been fully met. And there was more of it rising already.

Madge began to strip in front of me. She freed her massive bust and waved it in my face. "What's the matter, Patti Poo? Wasn't that enough? Oh my. You'll just have to keep trying, every time the pressure builds back up. Won't that be fun? Having to put on your energetic performances for us? And maybe for a few of our selected friends? Again and again? With maybe hot sauce for lube, next time? And a variety of dildos to shove up your tailpipe? I saw a really fat black one online. And a skinny one that you'd have to work twice as hard on, if you wanted to make yourself drool out another pitiful little helping of spunk." She gathered some of my cream, mixed with bacon fat, onto her fingertip and fed it to me. Several more samples of that followed. She smeared it on my lips and under my nose, even getting some inside my nostrils. Then I had to suck clean the end of her finger. "EWWW," she said, making a face.

Kaz came up behind her. He reached around to get his big hands on her chubby chest-warmers. As he squeezed them, her soft flesh was pressed out between his thick blunt fingers. Pangs of jealousy stabbed me.

"Now we're going into the bedroom," Kaz announced. "So I can do for your wife what you never could."

"Yeah," she said with a sneer. "When we used to have sex, you were a real winner in bed, Patti. You always finished first. Thank goodness I taught you how to use your mouth."

"Just stay there and enjoy the feel of that spindle up your butt. Spend another hour on the tower of power."

"We'll leave the door open, so you can hear how my real man makes me shout."

"And maybe we'll call for you to come visit," Kaz suggested. "So you can give her twat and my junk a tongue bath. We know how much you enjoy that."

"Or if you still think you don't like it," Madge said, leering down at me, "maybe you can learn to. I'll bet staying in chastity for a long time can mess with your head quite a bit. It could turn your sex drive into all sorts of new and interesting directions."

"So just relax while we do the dirty," Kaz advised. "And if you want, wriggle around on that sissy-pleaser and get a few extra kicks from it."

"See you later, Patti."

They left me there, in that shameful spot. Of course, I wouldn't humiliate myself further by squirming on the anal probe. At least I could salvage one tiny portion of pride by not doing that. I sat

there, trying to get my thoughts organized, to recover from the emotional trauma I'd just suffered. What my wife had smeared on my lips land nose smelled so awful. Very soon, the lovers got busy. I heard my wife's loud moans of pleasure. Kaz grunted. He was such an animal. And she loved him for that. Madge squealed and spoke entire sentences that substituted sounds of ecstasy for words. He was ravishing her, and she was thrilled by it.

I lifted my bottom just an inch. Settled it back onto the moist seat. Shifted experimentally. My cock pulsed inside its tight prison. I jogged my buttocks up and down, up and down. It was okay, I told myself. After all, I could stop any time I wanted to. It wasn't as if I was losing my self-control. I wasn't at risk of becoming addicted to this twisted practice. Right? Bounce, jiggle, bounce, jiggle. I'm not going to turn into a complete, pervy pansy. Right? Please tell me that I'm right.

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