Which One Is The Sissy?

Does it matter?  Just so long as one of them is?

The Terms

“This pussy sissy? This beautiful, fuckable pussy? Forget it. The only thing you’ll ever touch this with is your lips. Only men with cocks may gain entry. But I will let you suck their sperm out of me. Isn’t that nice of me?”

Which One Is The Sissy?

I think I know.  Do you?

Hypnosis

For the longest time, the phrases were simply words on a repeating loop on a CD my wife made me listen to each night as I fell asleep.  But now, I can't get them out of my head, even when I was awake.

The Aftermath

I don't know what tormented me the most.  The fact that my wife lay before me, exposing her recently fucked pussy to me, a thick rivulet of black stud sperm drooling down her crack.  Or that she made me watch and wait while she described to me how her stud fucked her.  How long he fucked her.  How many times he fucked her.  How many times he filled her with massive deposits of black baby making semen.  My tiny penis was pounding to escape it's plexiglass cockcage prison, but to no avail.  My wife had no intention of unlocking my chastity cage.  So all I could do was salivate as I waited for her to allow me suck her pussy clean.

Cat Fight?

A slight overreaction to running across a random woman who bought the same dress as you.  But when it turns out that one of the dress wearers is a sissy, she is somewhat overmatched.

The Sissy's Plight

God! My feet are killing me! But these are the heels my wife insisted I wear today. I had to have the house ship-shape as she was bringing her boss home for dinner, and who knew what else. I was quite certain that I would eventually play a role in that part of the evening as well, since she expected me to fluff all of her lovers, and to later clean their manly deposits out of her well-fucked pussy. It’s been this way ever since I failed to perform adequately in that department on our wedding night.