Sissified by Sandra Page 2

  Thankfully, we had some family-sized tea bags in the back of the pantry. I put on a kettle to boil and got back to work scrubbing the floor. When the tea was done, I cracked a whole tray of ice cubes into a tumbler and poured the tea in. The ice cubes cracked with the heat.

  “Do you want sugar?” I yelled.

  “Get the fuck in here!” she yelled back.

  I moved as fast as I could, bringing the tea with me.

  When I stood in front of her she said, “You have a lot to learn, little Denise. I yell at you. Amber can yell at you. But you most certainly do not yell back. If you need to answer one of us, you come the fuck into the room like a good little girl, and keep your fucking voice down.”

  “Yes, Mommy Sandra,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  “No,” she said. “Not yet you aren’t. Put the fucking tea down.”

  I set it down on a coaster on the coffee table. Sandra reached down between the cushions and retrieved her switch.

  “Turn around and grab your ankles, bitch,” she said, standing up.

  I spun around, but couldn’t reach my ankles. I reached as far as I could, just passed my knees.

  Sandra laughed. “Don’t worry,” she said. “After a few weeks you’ll be flexible enough.” I heard her make swooshing noises in the air with the switch, then sigh again. Her boot heels clicked as she walked into the kitchen. I heard her rummage around in the draws, then click back into the living room. I couldn’t see what she held.

  A few seconds later, I felt it. A hard, solid thwack on my right ass cheek. I felt the whole cheek slam in, then felt the burst of pain. I cried out. The heavy wooden spoon, that’s what it had to be.

  She whacked my left ass cheek next, not holding back at all, the head of the spoon smashing into my flesh with a loud popping noise. She hit the right ass cheek again, and I stumbled forward a step.

  “Hold still,” she said. “Take your licks like a good girl.”

  “Yes, Mommy San—”

  She whacked me again. Twenty strokes like that, ten on each cheek. With each one, I didn’t think I could take another. My ass felt like it had been wrecked. I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to sit down for a long time.

  “If you’re wondering about sitting down,” she said. “Don’t. Good bitch husbands don’t sit around the house. They work to make their wives happy.”

  Sandra dropped the spoon onto the coffee table with a clatter. She sat back on the sofa as before, leaning back and spreading her legs wide with her boots propped up.

  “Stand up,” she said. I straightened, resisting the impulse to rub my ass, pulsing with pain. I could feel hot tears standing out in my eyes.

  “Don’t be a little cry baby,” she said, taking a long gulp of iced tea. Suddenly I was thirsty, and all I wanted to do was take a sip. She must have seen me staring longingly at the cup.

  “Thirsty?” she asked.

  I nodded my head. “Yes, Mommy Sandra,” I croaked. “Please.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Please what?”

  “Please give me something to drink.”

  She smiled and took another long sip. “Tell you what,” she said. “Get down on all fours and crawl over here between my legs. I’ll give you something to drink.”

  Amber flashed through my head again. How could she possibly be okay with this?

  “Two things,” Sandra said. “One, when you’re working for your Queen, and you’ll be working every weekend from now on, all you get to drink is whatever comes out or off her body. Sweat, spit, pussy juice. Two, I need to make sure you can eat pussy. Every sissy husband needs to be good at it, and I won’t settle for anything but the best for my little girl. Now get on the ground and crawl the fuck over here.”

  I got on the floor and crawled under her right leg, popping my head up between her legs. I looked over her curly, light-brown muff, between her breasts, at her smiling face. I could already smell her musty juices, a strong, earthy scent. I looked more closely at her pussy, the purple-brown folds of slightly shiny and wet. I licked my lips.

  “What are you waiting for, bitch?” she asked.

  I had only eaten out Amber once, when we were both drunk after a party. It wasn’t that I didn’t like it. I just didn’t feel confident I knew what I was doing. Besides, I didn’t really see the point. After a few minutes, Amber had given me a tap on the head, the signal to stop.

  So when I went down on Sandra, I hoped I could do a better job. I began by kissing the insides of her thighs, then licking straight from her taint up the crease in her lips, tasting the thick juice gathered there.

  I looked up at her to see how she was responding, but all she gave me was a flat stare.

  I kissed her lips, then began to lap upwards with my tongue. She reached down and grabbed the back of my wig, pulling me harder into her.

  “Sometimes gentle is good,” she said. “But just right now I want it hard and messy. Get your fucking face in there and eat me, bitch.”

  I gobbled her pussy, feeling her juice and the heavy lipstick mash together all over my face. She put her head back and made a low growling noise. I made my tongue erect and let her push my head up and down, my tongue jabbing in and out of her.

  After a while I felt both her hands slide down my chest to my nipples. She squeezed and twisted them both hard.

  “Work my clit, bitch,” Sandra said.

  I slid my tongue upwards to find the little hooded nub and began circling it with my tongue.

  “Yeah,” she said. “That’s good.”

  I kept on doing the same thing, feeling her body tighten and her breathing quicken. “Oh,” she said. “Oh yes. Fuck yes.” I picked up the pace just a tad, even though my tongue was sore, and my neck stiff.

  She cried out, shuddered, and shoved my head backward. I fell on my ass.

  Sandra sighed and let out a little laugh. “Not bad,” she said. “My phone is in my purse in the hallway. Go get it.”

  I scrambled up from the floor and retrieved her phone. She dialed a number and put the phone on speaker, setting it down on the coffee table. I heard the dial tone, then a click.

  “Hello?” Oh my God. It was Amber.

  “Hi sweetie,” Sandra said. “Just checking in. How’s everything at the beach?”

  “Great, Mom,” Amber said. “Very relaxing.” She giggled. “How are things over there?”

  “I don’t know,” Sandra said, raising her eyebrows at me. “How are things going over here?”

  “Hello, Amber,” I said. “Things are going…very well.”

  “Oh really?” Amber said. “Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

  “I’ve been cleaning the house,” I said.

  “That’s not all he’s been cleaning,” Sandra said. “I’ve turned him into a nice little sissy bitch for you, dear.”

  Amber laughed again. “Sorry, Dennis. Mom asked me how things were going, and I told her.”

  “Amber, honey?” Sandra said. “Go ahead and call her ‘Denise’ for now.”

  “Denise, huh? Nice. You dress him, I mean her, up?”

  “Oh yes,” Sandra said, looking me up and down. “She’s very pretty. I’ll send you a pic when we hang up.”

  “Sounds great. What are you guys up to next?”

  “Well,” Sandra said. “I’ve got a couple of my friends coming over. Denise here is going to give us all massages, and then she’s going to learn how to give manicures and pedicures.”

  “Ooh, your own little spa,” Amber said. “I’m kind of jealous. Though it is nice here.”

  “You’ll have her all to yourself soon enough, honey,” Sandra said. “Once she’s good and trained.”

  “Thanks, Mom. You’re awesome.” She started to say goodbye, then stopped. “Oh, and Denise? You better treat my mother and her friends right. Otherwise I might have to beat your ass when I get home.”

  “Yes, dear,” I said.

  Sandra moved as fast as a snake, snatching up the wooden spoon from the coffee table and
rapping me on the head with it. “She’s your queen, you dumb little bitch,” she said.

  “Yes,” I said, “My Queen.”

  Amber giggled one last time. “Awesome. Bye, Mom.”

  “Bye, honey.”

  After hanging up, Sandra looked at me. “Well what the fuck are you waiting for? You need to finish cleaning the house before Bree and Pamela get here.”

  I climbed to my feet, already exhausted. Her pussy juice was drying on my face, but I resisted the urge to wipe it off. She hadn’t told me I could. Instead, I headed back to the kitchen for cleaning supplies. The hallway bathroom needed cleaning next.

  I cleaned all afternoon. Both bathrooms, the bedrooms, the living room. I dusted, mopped, scrubbed, and washed. I was beyond exhaustion now, but the weekend had barely started.

  Just as the sun began to go down, I heard the doorbell ring. I knew it was my job to answer it. When I opened the door, two middle-aged women stood there. Both wore T-shirts, yoga pants, and flip-flops. The one on the right was tall, with red hair. The other was shorter, with a dark page-boy haircut and glasses. They were both attractive, but not knockouts. They gasped when I opened the door, then simultaneously laughed.

  “Well aren’t you pretty?” the redhead said. “I’m Pamela, by the way.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Pamela,” I said, giving a little curtsey. “And you must be Miss Bree.”

  “Oh,” Bree said, “This is too good.”

  “Please come in,” I said, stepping aside and lowering my head for them.

  Sandra appeared in the hallway, wearing a white terrycloth robe over her leather lingerie. She hugged them both and kissed them on the cheeks. “You ready for the full treatment?” she asked.

  Pamela sighed. “God, I could use a little pampering for a change. Richard’s been a real asshole lately.”

  Sandra reached into the robe pocket and took out the remote. I hadn’t even done anything, but she shocked my balls anyway. I let out a little cry and doubled over. The ladies all laughed.

  “Start a bath for Pamela,” Sandra said. “Nice and hot. Then pour us three glasses of wine.”

  After I served them the wine, I led Pamela to the bathroom. I took her clothes off.

  “Don’t worry,” Sandra yelled from the living room. “Her little dick is all caged up. He can’t even get hard.”

  Pamela looked down at my crotch and I blushed.

  “Show me,” she said.

  I lifted up the skirt to reveal my cock, bundled and straining against the plastic.

  “Oh my,” she said, putting a hand to her mouth. “That just might be the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen.” She let me take off her bra, loosing her heavy round tits, the nipples large and pink.

  “So if I rub these in your face, it probably hurts your little winky down there, huh?” she said. She laughed, grabbed the back of my head, and shoved my face between her titties, shaking them against either side of my head. “Marvelous,” she said, pulling my head back to look at my surprised face. “It’s time for my bath now, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said, holding her hand while she stepped into the sudsy water. I lathered her neck and back, then she leaned back and had me scrub those plump, round, freckled titties. I could feel the head of my cock straining against the hard plastic. I thought either the plastic or my cock would snap any second.

  When Pamela’s bath was done, I helped her out of the tub, then dried her off. As I did, she reached under my skirt and fondled my balls. Then she lifted the skirt and looked. I looked too. My dick was a disturbing shade of purple, swollen in the confines of the cage.

  Pamela just laughed. “I’ll send in Bree.”

  I bathed her, too. She didn’t laugh or talk as much as Pamela did. She just sat in the bath with a little smile on her lips, her eyes closed. She was smaller than Pamela, her tits just two small handfuls, the nipples small. After I’d washed her thoroughly, I helped her out of the tub.

  I reached for the towel.

  “Nope,” she whispered quietly, shaking her head.

  “You don’t want me to dry you?” I asked.

  “Oh, you’re going to dry me,” Bree said. “Just not with a towel.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “That’s because,” she leaned forward and thumped me hard on the nose, “you’re fucking stupid.”

  She snatched the towel out of my hands and threw it on the floor. She looked at me, stuck her tongue out, and made a lapping motion, like a cat drinking milk. Then she pointed at her right foot. I finally got it.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said, getting down on all fours. I licked the soapy drops from her foot. I licked her calf and shin, then her knee. I started to go back down to the other foot, but she knocked me on the head with her knuckles.

  “Keep going up,” she said.

  I licked her right thigh clean, my cheek brushing against her dewy muff as I got higher.

  “You’re going to give that a real nice going over later,” she said. “For now just suck the water out of my pubes.”

  I gathered them up in my mouth and sucked. I was actually thankful for this, since I was still so thirsty. Then she turned around, putting her chubby round ass cheeks in my face.

  I began to lick the moisture off the cheeks.

  “Go on and get in there,” she said, pointing to the crack.

  I buried my nose between her cheeks and began to lick her ass. She started moaning, pushing herself down on me.

  A knock came at the door. It was Sandra. “What’s taking so long in there?” she asked.

  “Come on in and see,” said Bree.

  Sandra opened the door and whistled. “You dirty bitch,” she said, and I couldn’t tell who she was talking to. “Hogging our little slave a bit, aren’t you?”

  “You said we could do what we want,” Bree said.

  “I sure did, honey,” Sandra said. “But you also need to play nice and share. Hey, nobody told you to stop, bitch.”

  I had pulled my head from between Bree’s cheeks. I buried my face back in and kept licking.

  “Well,” Sandra said, “we’re at least going to watch. Pamela!”

  The baths and drying took nearly an hour and a half. After that, I found Amber’s coconut massage oil and laid out towels on the bed. I massaged Sandra first, a long, deep massage. My hands and fingers started to cramp near the end, but I still had two long massages to give.

  While I massaged one, the other two sat in chairs by the bed, supervising and chatting, about work, about their husbands, about television shows. The massages took another hour and a half.

  The night was growing long. My arms were already shaking. I hadn’t eaten all day and had little to drink. We didn’t start in on the manicures and pedicures until nearly midnight.

  Amber came back Sunday evening. By then, Sandra and her friends were long gone. But I had learned my lessons well. I had slept on the floor, but Sandra had ordered me to bathe again and freshen up. I had applied a fresh coat of makeup. Then I waited by the door for my Queen to come home.

  I heard her rummage in the mailbox. When she opened the door, she looked more beautiful than ever. Her sandy hair fell around her shoulders. She wore a tank top and cutoff jeans, her skin brown from the weekend of tanning on the beach. She smelled like sand and salt water. In one hand was her bag, and in the other was the remote control. Sandra had left it in the mailbox.

  I sat on my knees by the door. “May I take your bag for you, my Queen?” I asked.

  Amber giggled and dropped the bag into my hands.

  I had learned how to behave, how to treat my wife, and how to pamper her.

  I was ready to stop being selfish and start being her perfect little bitch slave.

  She smiled, tucking a tuft of hair behind her ear. “That’s more like it,” she said. “Get me a drink and pour me a bath.”

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