Nov 10, 2005
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A year ago I was a happy married man. My wife of one year, Trish, was a beauty, with dark green eyes set in a heart-shaped face which was framed by long auburn hair cut into bangs. Her figure was incredible as well, lusciously curvy and trim-waisted. Those were all reasons I had wed her but there was also the fact that she was short like me. I'm only 5'4", slender, and small-boned. When we went out together guys would always stare at her. They weren't at all intimidated by a shrimp like me.
You might be surprised that such a trophy wife would marry such an unimpressive specimen. Well so was I, until after we'd been married six months and my sexy wife at last revealed her motivation. It turned out that she had been quite wild in the several years before we met. Trish had dated a lot of Black guys and gotten hooked on their oversized endowments. In an effort to tame herself she had switched to dating exactly the opposite type -- me. Where her former boyfriends had been incredibly well hung, I measured in at a pathetic four and a half inches when hard. My balls were tiny. Worse than that, I came too soon for her to get even the limited satisfaction my pitiful equipment might have provided. She finally confronted me about the state of our sex life and what she intended to do about it. She took me to the downstairs den of our house and sat me on the couch. Standing in front of me in minishorts and a snug sleeveless top, Trish rewrote the rules of our marriage.
"You know, I still like you, and the business you own provides the security I need. But we both know you're a dud in bed. And, honestly, when I'm with you all I can think about is those fantastic Black Bulls I used to hit the sheets with. Now we can go two ways with this. Either we can get a divorce, I'll walk off with at LEAST half of everything, and you'll be alone. You probably won't recover very well after getting dumped and you'll NEVER get another girl like me. Right?"
I sadly nodded agreement. Even in the midst of getting such bad news I was lusting after my wife.
"The other way," she went on, "is for me to stay with you but go back to sleeping with the kind of guys I prefer. You'll only get the type of sex I say, when I say, or not at all if I decide that's what's best. Of course you'll still be going down on me and using your mouth. I know you haven't done that much and you don't like it, but I've also noticed that when you haven't had sex you do it better, so maybe if I cut you off you'll turn into a first rate pussyboy and I'll decide to keep you. What's it going to be, husband dearest? I need an answer right now or I'm going to walk and leave you alone with your sad excuse for a dick."
In shock I sat there and stared hungrily at her. What could I do? She was absolutely right about everything. If she left I would be devastated and stay that way. It was unlikely that I would even hook up with a female even a fraction as hot as Trish. And I told myself that she would probably get over these inflamed desires in a short while and we could go back to the way our life had been. Swallowing my pride, I agreed to everything. If only I had known how extreme our new lifestyle would become.
The next evening we drove downtown, parked on a shadowy side street, and visited a club called the Blue Light. The room was low ceilinged and dimly lit. There was a blue light over the bar and a long blue-glass mirror behind the bartender. Trish had on an obscenely short dress that hugged her full bust and bottom, while exposing her shapely legs and plenty of cleavage, as well as her smooth creamy shoulders. All the tall broad shouldered black guys eyed her as we crossed the room. As always, no one was put off by my unthreatening presence. We sat at the bar and I knew that everyone behind us could see my wife's sweet ass on display. One especially tall and muscular stud squeezed in between us to order a drink.
"Excuse me," he said in a deep confident voice, the complete opposite of my rather high and meek speech.
"No problem," my wife said sweetly as she brushed her thigh against his leg. He gave her a second look and, without even bothering to check my reaction, asked her if she would like a fresh drink.
"I'd love that. What would you recommend? Maybe a Sweet Seduction or a Long Kiss?" she said, picking drinks with suggestive names.
"Those are okay but maybe you'd rather get right to the real thing. They have a house specialty here called the Black Banger. A lot of ladies like yourself really enjoy those." She smiled and laid her small hand atop his big mitt with easy familiarity.
"That sounds fantastic. And my husband will pay, of course."
"Yeah," he said. "I noticed him next to you. Thought maybe you were babysitting your little nephew."
Trish laughed merrily. She went on to describe her past and explain our situation. The big man, whose name was Steve, said he was sure he could make her very happy. When he added that the bar kept apartments upstairs for just such situations, she grinned widely and told him that would be perfect. Her drink arrived, a potent concoction in a tall black glass.
She sipped it and said, "Great recommendation. I really like the Black Banger."
As I sat miserably alongside them and paid for her drink and the one he ordered for himself, they continued to chat. Steve said he had encountered girls like her before and knew exactly how to help her with her situation. He finally turned to me and stared hard into my eyes. "Unless somebody has a problem with that," he said coldly.
"Uhm, uh, n... no, Sir."
"That's right, boy. You'd better call me Sir."
As soon as they finished their drinks he called the bartender over, ordered a bottle and two glasses, and said he wanted a room upstairs. I paid for everything. We ascended a back stairway with me carefully balancing the bottle and glasses on a tray, following them, my eyes stuck on my wife's gorgeous swaying backside. At the top of the stairs we stopped in front of a closed door. Steve knocked and a stunning black girl appeared.
"Hey, Nita, want to make some easy money without having to get on your knees or back?" She laughed and said she did. He whispered something to her and she vanished into the room only to reappear with an overnight bag. Although I'm uncomfortable with idea of being with a black girl, Nita was beautiful, with angular features and an athletic body shown off by her tiny skirt and a tube top that left her midriff bare.
As soon as we got to our room Steve gruffly told me to strip naked. Too afraid to disobey him, I wriggled out of my shirt and pants and very reluctantly slipped off my shorts. The three of them laughed at my immature genitals. As I stood there shamefaced, Nita laid her bag on the dresser and opened it. She produced elastic-topped stockings which I had to put on. I shuddered at the idea of having to wear anything feminine but still stood there while they admired my new look. Since I had body hair only at my crotch, and then very little, and am so soft-bodied, the mere addition of stockings made me look very girlish.
Then Steve and Trish started to kiss and to undress each other. I watched in horror as their hands roamed freely. Nita got out cosmetics and went to work on my face. She used eyeliner, blush, lash-thickener and plenty of dark crimson lipstick. Then she took a comb and hair spray and went to work on my hair which I was wearing slightly long. By the time she was done, Steve and my wife were naked and getting onto the bed. Nita walked me over to the closet and opened the door, on the other side of which was a full length mirror.
I couldn't believe what I saw. Gaping back at me was a gender-bent figure that seemed more female than male. She made me push my undersized genitals back between my legs and the effect was even more extreme. I had to walk around the room that way, keeping my thighs together, which gave me a convincingly girlish gait.
Trish broke away from kissing a path down Steve's body to check out my new appearance. She said, "You know, you always have been a sissy, so this is the perfect look for you."
"Yeah," said Steve. "And I've found that when a sexy bitch like you takes a proper lover, making her husband into a sissy wimp is the perfect way to keep him in line. He'll never have the nerve to ask you for sex after this."
"Good, because I don't intend to let him have any. Ever."
Stunned by her words, I watched numbly as Trish continued kissing her way down to his huge cock and began to work it over with her willing mouth. She gave him a blowjob that would make a whore blush. Then, with Nita and I watching, he roughly turned her over.
Steve told me, "Get your mouth between her legs and make her wet enough to take everything I'm going to give her."
I wimpishly obeyed, hating the act, frightened of what was going to happen next. Then I was shoved aside and had to witness my wife being taken by a Black Man who could give her everything I could not. Trish was in ecstasy for the next hour while he did everything but stop. She had three orgasms before he finally blasted his load.
As they lay there in a warm afterglow, Nita said to Trish, "Damn, girl, that got me hot! Mind if I borrow your sissy husband's mouth?"
"Sure. Help yourself. It's the only kind of sex he's any good for. And the only kind he'll have from now on."
As Nita leaned back against the dresser and made me kneel before her I knew my fate was being sealed. With no will to resist I got my tongue busy all over her fleshy nether lips and protruding clitoris. She had a much stronger taste than my wife and was amused at how I whimpered and gagged while I served her through two powerful climaxes. My final degradation that evening was to have to serve Trish the same way, cleaning up the sticky mess of her juices and Steve's plentiful cum. And swallowing it all.
Ever since then I've been living a very different life. The final item Nita produced from her bag was a male chastity device. She fitted it over my dick as soon as I relaxed and locked it behind my scrotum, then presented the key on a chain to Trish. My wife put it on so that it sat at the top of her deep cleavage, so every time I stole a glance at her wonderful bust I would be reminded of my sexless status. The chastity device was devilishly designed to leave the head of my puny dick exposed so it could be teased while the narrow tube that enclosed the rest of the organ prevented any chance of me finishing.
Since then I've been kept in my feminized state. The scant pubic hair I had was removed with a powerful depilatory and it's my job to keep it that way. My wife has used my charge card to build me a wardrobe of sexy lingerie and light bondage gear. My hair has grown longer and is styled in a slutty way. She sees Steve several nights a week and takes special pleasure in having him ramrod her in our marital bed. And as he predicted, a made over girl of a man like me would never dare to ask his own wife for sex. Instead I am constantly teased and left frustrated, humiliated and punished. I have become a total wimp hubby and pussy slave to my wanton bride. And now she has just told me that she has lots of new ideas to try on my for our first wedding anniversary Lots and LOTS.
tiny feelings wrote 250 days ago:
Hope we are able to read the next instalment soon