SISSY SHARING – TWO SHORT TALES by Throne (Patreon)

SISSY SHARING – TWO SHORT TALES by Throne

“Are you comfy, Christine?”

“How about you, Belinda?”

The two girls’ EX-boyfriends were lying on a bed together.  The young lovelies they had cheated on were standing over them.  Both guys wore make-up and had their collar-length hair done up in girly styles.  The only clothes they had been allowed were very tight corsets, to the backs of which their wrists were fastened.  The helpless males were facing each other.  Oh, and I should mention, they were pointed in opposite directions, so that their eyes were very close to each other’s male parts.

“Time for another teasing session,” Amy said.

“Just one more reminder of what happens to jerks who aren’t faithful,” added Leela.

The former was a cute girl of Asian heritage.  The latter had a long dark ponytail and unnaturally large eyes.

“Please,” said Chris.  “Haven’t you done enough to us?”

“Yeah,” seconded Billy.  “I mean, it’s been six months since you starting treating us like…”

“Sissies?” Amy suggested.  “Well, fellows, we need to keep doing that to discourage you from treating other girls the way you did with us.”

“And besides,” Leela said, “half a year isn’t long to go without ejaculating.”  She snickered.  “You should be glad that we play this game with you, to see how often we can bring you to the edge of finishing, without quite taking you all the way.  At least this way, you have a sort of a sex life.”

Chris whimpered, “You know that only makes it worse.  My balls hurt constantly now.”

“Maybe this time it won’t be as bad,” Amy suggested, not honestly meaning it.

She began to remove the tiny chastity device that contained his penis.  Leela started to do the same for Billy.

The guys reflexively squirmed around, even though they knew how hopeless their positions were.  Moments later, they were each staring at the other’s bared prick.  The girls slipped on latex gloves and went to work, gently bringing their captives to full erection, and then using their considerable skills to keep them there.  They had the former cheats writhing with pent-up need.

“I’ll bet,” Amy offered, “that if you had the chance, you’d do whatever it took to get some relief.”

“That is,” Leela went on, “if it didn’t risk making us girls release all the cute blackmail photos we’ve taken of you two, separately and together.”

“But especially together,” said Amy.

“Because those are the ones that you find the most shameful,” noted Leela.  “Particularly the kissing ones.  Woo who!”

Amy’s phone chimed and she checked to read the message that had arrived.  She groaned.  “Oh, damn.  We have that lunch date.”  She looked at Chris and said pointedly, “With our new boyfriends.”

“Yes,” Leela said with a nod.  “The ones who DON’T mess around on us.”

“Well,” decided Amy, “I don’t feel like freeing our sissies.”

“And we’ll only be gone for about two hours.”

“You can’t leave us here like this,” protested Chris.

“It’s not fair,” Billy told her, his voice on the edge of cracking.

“Well, that’s just too bad for you.”

“Should have thought of stuff like that before you went out with other girls, behind our backs.”

The girls left the bedroom.  The guys heard the front door of the house close, and then the sound of a car starting.

“I can’t believe this,” Chris said.  “It’s like, no matter how much revenge they take, it will never be enough.”

“And we won’t get to empty our balls until they let us.  I mean, getting rid of all that backed up spunk is all I can think about.  It’s driving me nuts.”

“The way they’re leaving us alone, it’s so wrong.”

“We’re stuck this way for like hours.”

“I’m so horny, my stiffy won’t go down.”

“Same here.  If only there was some way to get relief.  I mean, it’s not as if we could…”

“What?”

“I was just thinking that, maybe one time only, we could, you know… help each other.”

“What?  No way.  I’m not gay.”

“Well, neither am I.  But I’ll burst if I can’t release this pressure.”

They were quiet for several long minutes, trying not to focus on each other’s members.  Chris shuddered.  Billy murmured.

Billy said, “I’ll do it for you, if you’ll do it for me.”

“Not going to happen, man.  I’m not that way.”

“Let me just get you started, bro.  Okay?”

“Not okay.  I told you, I’m straight.  What are you doing?  Stop breathing on my dick.”

“Don’t you like it?”

“Of course I do.  It feels fantastic.  But it’s not… I don’t want…”  He gasped.  “Is that your tongue?   It’s your tongue!”

“Listen, this might be our only chance.  It’s unhealthy to go so long without shooting your shot.”

“I don’t care.  So no more of that… WHOA.  OMG.”

“It’s good.  Right?  Just relax, dude.  I’ll do you.  But you have to do me, too.”

“This is so wrong.”

“Those bitches are out with some other guys.  They’re having a good time.  We’ve been turned into sissies.  I mean, we’re being treated like sissies.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to take it further.  We have to be strong enough to not… JEEZ LOUISE.”

“See?  That was just me getting the head into my mouth, and giving it one suck.  Imagine how good it would feel if I did a whole lot more of that.”

“But I don’t want…”  Chris took a deep breath.  “Just do a little more.  Maybe that’ll be enough to hold me over.”

“We can try that.  But I’m guessing it’ll only make everything worse.  Still…”

Chris went, “Oh, oh, oh,” as Billy mouthed the knob of his cock.  “That’s incredible.”

“If you want more, it’s got to be an even trade.”

“This corset thing is crushing me,” Chris said, stalling for time.

“Nothing else is going to happen if you don’t play fair.”

“I can’t…”  Chris sounded close to falling apart and crying.  “You win.  But if I decide to stop, that’s the end of it.”

Billy’s response was to take the end of Chris’s tool between his lips and run his tongue around the corona.  Then he used the tip of his tongue to stimulated the sensitive frenum.

Chris’s mouth popped open automatically.  He brought his face forward until the head of his buddy’s dick was in his mouth, though it wasn’t touching anything.  Billy gave another tongue-treatment.  As if by reflex, Chris closed his lips.  He had the knob of Billy’s rod enclosed, warmly and wetly.  Chris experimentally pressed his tongue upward, against the receptive underside, and was rewarded with a burble of appreciation.  The two of them knew what they liked, from when Amy and Leela had given them head.  Now they applied that knowledge to sucking each other.  Their minds were overcome with lust and confusion.  This was so wrong, yet so necessary.  At least they would get enough release to hold them until the girls relented, if that time came soon.

Both of them arched their backs simultaneously, as if by some silent understanding, so they could bring their lower bodies forward, making it possible for each to swallow the rest of the dick he was pleasuring.  They mewled around their mouthfuls.  Hips twitched.  Tongues became more animated.  Heads moved forward and back.  As one, the two corseted and hand-bound pals grunted, made distressed sounds, and pumped out their loads.  There was much gagging and swallowing.  They withdrew.  Lips were licked clean.  All evidence of their shameful behavior had to be removed.  If the girls were ever to discover what they had done, there would be no way to live it down.  Their minds cleared enough that they were able to resume thinking rationally.

“You made me do that,” Chris accused.

“Yo.  You were sucking like a total bitch.”

“You were getting off on doing it.  I could tell.”

“And you had a better technique than Leela.  I’ll bet you’ve done it before.”

“Me?  You’re the one who uses all that perfume.”

“I told you, it’s cologne.  And you can’t find pants that are tight enough, when it comes to showing off your buns.”

“You’ve been eyeballing my ass?   Is that what you’re saying?”

The two of them went at it like catty girls.  They reached a peak and then slowly settled down.  Now they both had quivering voices.

“I’m sorry I said all that crap,” Chris apologized.

“Same here.  The main thing is that we don’t give the girls any hints about what just happened.”

From just outside the bedroom door came Amy’s voice.  “Isn’t that sweet?  The sissies are making up with each other.”

“Well, they should, after those enthusiastic blowjobs they gave.  Now they just have to kiss, so their making-up will be official.”

The guys froze.  Into the bedroom walked Amy and Leela.  They were carrying their laptops.

“We recorded the entire sexy session,” said Amy. 

“From two different angles,” Leela assured them.  “So nothing got missed.”

“How…?  Why…?”

“How?  With miniature spy cameras, right here in your love nest.”

“Why?  Because you can never have too much blackmail material.”

The girls took Chris, who had been facing the foot of the bed, and swung him around, so he had to look into Billy’s panicked eyes.  The shamed males’ faces were flushed bright pink.  The females pushed on the backs of their heads, until their closed lips met.

“Come on now,” Amy coaxed.  “Kissy-kissy.”

“Let’s go,” Leela urged.  “Get those tongues all over each other.”  When the guys shook their heads no, they were reminded, “The videos we just made would be a huge hit online.  We could put your first names on them.  Girl versions and boy versions.  Billy and Belinda.  Chris and Christine.  With maybe the first initials of your last names.”

“And some hints about your real identities.  I mean, maybe no one would guess who you really are.  Or if we kept dropping clues, they could eventually figure it out.  You might start getting online messages from all sorts of interesting guys, if your email addresses got leaked.”

“Or you could just kiss and make up.”

“And then make out.”

Billy and Chris surrendered to the inevitable.  They opened their mouths and exchanged creamy kisses, each getting to taste his own semen, mixed with his partner’s.  They made distressed squeaks and bleats, but transitioned into a full session of heavy kissing, while the girls stayed out of the way of the hidden cameras’ angles.  They also took plenty of still shots, enjoying how the cheap lipstick they had used on the guys became increasingly smeared.  In the end, the buddies were totally beaten.

“Now,” said Amy, “let’s get you lovebirds tucked back into those tight cock-locks.”

“And then we’ll discuss what our next video will include.  I’m thinking we can leave your hands free, because you obviously will want to cooperate and not give us any trouble.”

“That way,” Leela said lasciviously, “you can get into playing with each other’s nipples.  First with your fingers, and then your lips and tongues, like you’re starving for them.”

“And we’ll be giving you some lines to speak.  All about how hot you are for each other.”

“Plus, how you crave to go all the way.”

“Though popping each other’s cherries won’t be for months yet.  We’ll give you lots of time to think about it, before we make that happen.”

“I can see you two turning into a real couple.”

“Being sent out on dates together, at that drag club in the city.”

“And maybe even picking up cute macho guys.” 

“If that’s what we tell you to do.”

Billy and Chris looked at each other, seeing clearly that the future just described was what actually waited for them.  They had to wonder how it would effect their minds in the weeks to come.  Months.  And years.

The two disgraced husbands stood in the living room, wearing nothing but short, transparent nighties and matching panties.  Their pink garments revealed that they no longer had any body hair.  Adding to their feminine appearance were the cheap wigs they wore, both cut short in pixie styles, and the inexpensive make-up that they had been made to apply to each other’s faces.  Their sexy wives had rushed them through that job, to make sure that the results were sloppy and suggested trampy females.

“Now,” said Trish, a stacked brunette, “you poor excuses for men are ready for the next step in being converted into compete pansies.”

“Right,” seconded Zee, a foxy redhead.  “We’re going to turn you into actresses.  Won’t that be fun, Muff?  Aren’t you eager to do your first scene, Fluff?”

Trish told them, “Ever since we decided that two small-dick, wimpy hubbies like you didn’t deserve a couple of real women like us, this project has been going really wall.”

“But we have to keep breaking new ground,” Zee continued.  “You’ve already had your hands all over each other.  The lip-locks have been great.  And we’re both happy with the way your BJs are coming along, despite some problems with gag reflexes.”

“The thing that’s missing,” Trish said, and licked her lips, “is a proper audience for when you show off together.”

“So,” continued Zee, “we’ve recruited two studs, who we’ve also been going to bed with, because you sugar-lumps are useless in that area.  They can’t wait to see our squishy fairy husbands get busy, as a pair of male lesbians.”

“What?” Muff said, keeping his voice high and wispy, the way he’d been taught to.

“Other guys will see us?” worried Fluff, flapping his hands on limp wrists, so well conditioned that he didn’t even realize how fruity he was acting.

“Well,” Trish mused, “since you pair aren’t guys anymore, I wouldn’t say ‘other guys’.”

“How about,” Zee said, “if we refer to our boyfriends as ‘real men’.  Hmmm?”  She furrowed her brow to indicate the seriousness of this question.

The husbands understood.  As they had been taught to do in moments of stress, they joined hands.  Both of them nodded their agreement.  Short, with soft bodies, their immature penises visible through the panties, they didn’t appear capable of standing up for themselves.  In truth, they no longer were capable of asserting their wills.  The brunette consulted her phone and gave the redhead a thumbs-up.  Zee snapped her fingers and motioned for the panty-boys to follow her and Zee to the kitchen.  Once there, the women made up a tray of cheese and crackers, and another of chips and dips.  They handed one to each of the spouses.

“It’s almost showtime,” announced Trish.

“You can stand in the den, holding your trays, like helpful serving girls.”

The cuckolds went where they were told to, and stood there looking at each other worriedly.  They heard the front door open.  There were loud male voices.  The women laughed at something that was said.  Then Muff heard the guests invited into the den.  They appeared, a couple of flannel and denim wearing roughnecks, with messy hair and thick mustaches.  When they saw the two loser husbands, they broke up laughing.  The women referred to their lovers as Jack and Ace.  The new arrivals walked around Muff and Fluff, staring disbelievingly.  Jack made himself a cheese cracker.  Ace dipped a tortilla chip into guacamole and popped it into his mouth.

Then Jack said to his fellow tough, “These queers look hungry.”

Ace opined, “We ought to feed them some of this stuff.”

One made up a cheese cracker and slowly licked the cube of cheddar.  The other scooped a minimum of dip onto a chip, and topped it with a gob of spit that he dripped slowly out of his mouth.  They held their offerings out to the frightened husbands.  Too scared to object, the sissies opened their mouths and allowed the unclean appetizers to be put inside.  Jack pushed up on the bottom of Muff’s chin.  Ace pinched Fluff’s lips together.  Their victims reluctantly chewed up and swallowed what they had been given.  Their sickened expressions made the wives laugh.

Trish went to fetch a couple bottles of beer from the fridge.  Zee accompanied her, to return with a bottle of red wine and two stemmed glasses.  The husbands had to put the food onto the coffee table, in front of the long sofa, where the foursome sat.  While the sissies stood close to each other, their wives and the Bulls drank and chatted for about ten minutes.  Then Trish said it was time for their premiere.

“Right here,” Trish narrated, “are two wusses who decided they were failures as men, so they decided to become male lesbians.  They love to hug and kiss each other.”  She made a throat-clearing sound, to set Muff and Fluff into action.

The nightie-wearing pair embraced, pressing together their hairless bodies.  They unhappily pushed their lips together and shared a kiss.  Then they parted mouths enough for the onlookers to see it, when they extended their tongues and wriggled them together.

Zee said, “These fake females like to lift up the fronts of each other’s nighties, so they can finger and lick those pink nipples, on their smooth chests.”

The husbands shuddered with revulsion, but did as they were told.  Raising each other’s filmy sleepwear, they diddled the exposed nips and then took turns flicking them with their tongues.

“Sometimes,” Trish went on, “they suck hard on those little buds.”

The guys did that, too, with Jack and Ace watching raptly, but also making repulsed faces at the display.  Somehow, Muff ended up with his head under Fluff’s baby-doll, fervently mouthing his nipples and giving him a straining hard-on.

“Damn,” observed Jack.  “Not only are their dicks tiny, but they don’t get much bigger when they play with each other.”

“Yeah,” put in Ace.  “I can see why you girls needed me and Jack to take their places in bed.”

“For sure,” said Trish.  “What they’ve got between their legs couldn’t satisfy a bitch dog in heat.”

Zee echoed her with, “They haven’t got enough to screw a donut hole.”

“So anyway,” Trish resumed, “even though their peckers are puny, they can’t get enough of rubbing them against each other.”

Muff got out from under the nightie.  He and Fluff put their arms around each other’s waists, hands on available backsides, and ground their crotches together.  It was devastatingly shameful to be seen like that by the two very masculine males.

“And then,” Zee said with a snicker, “they get so worked up, that they have to do more.  These male lesbians are so kinky.  They liked to bury their faces between their lover’s ass cheeks and deliver some real deep kisses… if you know what I mean.”

The two guys on the sofa sat back, their beers forgotten for the moment, and stared wide-eyed.  They could barely believe it when Muff sank down onto his knees behind Fluff.  The husbands were caught off-guard by this part of the loose script as well.  They had never been made to perform that particularly disgraceful act before.  Muff sniffled as he pulled down Fluff’s panties and pressed his face into the narrowness that divided his twin ovals.  He wedged his features in tightly.  Perhaps no one would have known, if he didn’t do the rest of what was expected.  But the reprisals for disobeying could be harsh, so he stretched his tongue, licked, rimmed, and finally penetrated.  Fluff let out a surprised yelp.  His undersized dick stuck out to its limited full length.

“The one who’s getting his ass eaten,” Trish improvised, “grabs his pitiful piece with just a thumb and one finger, to play with it.  He can stroke all he wants, but knows better than to make himself finish.”

Fluff made sad sounds as he played with himself.  At the same time, his breathing accelerated.  He was hating it and enjoying it simultaneously

After five more minutes of that mortifying scene being played, Zee said, “But the sissy who’s getting rimmed and probed is selfish.  He doesn’t want to take a turn on his knees.  The ass-muncher gets up.  They have a quick slap-fight.

For half a minute the two cuckolds didn’t know what to do.  Then they began ineffectually swatting at each other, like two little girls have twin snits.  At last, Zee allowed them to stop.

She finished the scene with, “The gender-benders decide to keep being friends, so they kiss and make up… even though one’s mouth tastes like a butthole.”

Muff leaned in.  Fluff wore an exaggerated frown as he accepted the other’s unwelcome kiss.  They held onto each other until Zee said something about them taking a break, but not being done yet.

The husbands had to station themselves outside the bedroom door, while their wives had great sex with the guys who had been bedding them recently.  It was loud and the women made sure to voice plenty of criticisms of their spouses, and those ridiculous shrimp dicks.  Several mentions were made of magnifying glasses and tweezers.

When the bedmates reemerged, they were disheveled but happy, the women in revealing, bright, short robes, and the men in darker longer ones.  They had more drinks, with the sissies fetching a fresh bottle of wine and carrying the empty beer bottles to the recycle can.  At last the lovers had recuperated from their vigorous screwing.  It was time for the closing act of the sissy sex show.  The cuckolds had to strip in front of their audience and then get into what their wives provided them with, which was pink stockings that had sparkles in them, and color-coordinated, see-through tops that reached only slightly below their nipples.  They resembled members of some exotic gay harem.

“After all their fun before,” Trish began, “the male lesbians are ready to get their partners off.  One of their favorite ways to do it is to give each other hand-jobs.  They especially like to get cum all over themselves.  So one lies on his back, while the other straddles his thighs.”

As soon as the cuckolds were posed, Zee picked up the thread with, “And then they grab each other’s wee willy winkles and jerk them really fast.  They have to get off quickly, or they won’t get to finish at all.”

The husbands complied.  They were not allowed to finish as often as their bodies demanded, and so were fearful of missing an opportunity.  It was comical to watch them jacking each other so rapidly.  Suddenly the one on top sprayed spunk all over the other’s belly and crotch.  Then the one on the bottom shot his shot all over himself, ending up with a double load on his body.

“They hate to waste any of that delicious cream,” Trish said.  “So the one on top laps it off the one under him, with lots of kissing while he does it, so they can both enjoy their favorite taste treat.”

Revolted though they were, and upset to be seen doing it, the sissies obeyed one more time.  In their brief outfits, with their hairless bodies, wigs askew, and make-up smudged, they were a weird sight.  Though they had been able to unburden their balls, the rushed action hadn’t been truly satisfying.  In the end, they were sent to Muff’s bedroom, which was a converted walk-in closet, done up in pink and white, with an overwhelmingly girly décor.  They had to share the one narrow bed, forced to lie close to each other, overcome by the crushing shame of their long evening.  They knew the rule, that they could fool around as much as they wanted, but not make the other one squirt.

Even though they still thought of themselves as straight, their perspective about what that constituted was irreparably damaged.  They clung together and snuggled, nuzzling each other’s necks, telling themselves it was for comfort and not anything dirty.  Even so, they both soon had erections.  Their one consolation was that they were determined not to play with each others nipples, scrotums, dicks, and especially not assholes.  There was no way they would succumb to those temptations.  Or at least, not too much.  After all, what could a little messing around hurt?  It wasn’t as if their wives could ever turn them into complete sissies, who lusted after one another.  Right?

(Two tales of forced sissy sisterhood.  Please let me know what you thought.  Compare and contrast.  )