Date: Wed, 12 Aug 2009 21:23:48 +0000 (GMT) From: Sharon Pinder Subject: be sure your sins will find you out 2 Warning: This story is a work of fiction and contains descriptions of explicit sexual acts between women. If this type of content offends you or you are under the age of 18 do not read it. Author's Note: This story is the property of the author. It can be downloaded for personal reading pleasure or sending to a friend, but if you wish to re-post them at your own site, please contact the author for permission. Copyright 2009 Aug All Rights Reserved. Be Sure Your Sins Will Find You Out! Chapter 4 I had no idea what was up with Denise. She had been a little out of character since her shopping trip last week. She had disappeared for an entire day and on her return, had been very withdrawn. I could only conclude that as ever, parish affairs were once more demanding her full attention. We had been married a number of years and had two great teenagers. We both had good carears and earned decent incomes so money was never really an issue. I suppose you could say we were happily married, but the physical sad had become somewhat stale. True when we first started dating it had been new, exciting and fun. But once the children were born, Denise's interest in a sex life seem to have tailed off. We fucked maybe once a month and it was pretty dull. But with the internet things weren't so bad. One could dabble in private and wank ones self silly, with out being judged for it. I am fairly traditional in my tastes, but find oral acts so much more of a turn on than the actual fucking. Its nice to see your lover in sexy lingerie and to use your mouth, as well as your tongue to make her cum. Denise wasn't to keen on the "oral thing" as she called it, but would some times let me indulge and that was always a bonus. This morning Denise was out on Parish work, and the kids were at school. So that left me in the house all alone. I promised myself some 'self-satisfaction' later, but first I had some work to do, as well as emails to answer. The inbox was filled with the usual spam, as well as some emails from a number of friends. The only one I couldn't place was from a shazspidersweb@yahoo.co.uk. I was going to play safe and delete it, but the subject caught my eye, 'Naughty Wife'. It has some file attachments, maybe they were some nice porn pictures. I had quite a collection but always had room for a few extras! First I played safe and scanned the attachments for viruses. Then while that was happening I read the attached text. 'My Dear Simon, attached are a series of pictures showing your wife's new sexual tastes. She came to us unwilling but now seems to have developed a taste for her own sex'. I read that last part twice, own sex? This is was some joke, it had to be, Denise was as straight laced as they came. But the files had by now downloaded and I was able now to look the attached images over. The photos composition would have won no prizes, but the content was clear enough. 'Miss Prim and proper Denise' was stark naked, kneeling before a stunning blonde, whose legs were spread and her shaven pussy on show. But my dear wife's face was turned to face the camera by a hand twisting her long hair. I could see Denise's make up was ruined, but her face had a sheen to it, around her mouth and nose. A sheen that could only be pussy juice. I could not believe what I was seeing. The second image was Denise's face buried deep into the blondes pussy, and the third was of another girl being treated to the same service by my wife. The last image was of the three of them, naked, the two unknown girls sat with Denise kneeling before them, like a faithful and doting puppy! Four images that were now seared into my mind and both horrified as well as aroused me. How could I be both stunned and turned on at the same time? I turned my attention back to the emails text. 'Denise has proved to be a most eager pupil and has provided us with several hours of home movies. I am sure you can appreciate how embarrassing these images could be of they went on general view. What would your wife's parishioners say? Then there is your head master, your pupils or your colleagues? How would they feel if they knew your wife was a depraved slut? That of course is something none of us wish to happen. This Saturday we are holding a small party, and if you wish to avoid any embarrassment, then I simply require both you and your darling slut, to be here for 8.00 p.m Don't worry Slut knows where 'here' is. If for some foolish reason you decided not to join us, then your head master will be the first to receive the same images you have just viewed, plus maybe a few more choicer ones. Look forward to seeing you on Saturday. Mistress Sharon Chapter 5 I could not believe the change in my life over the past week. The dress was a long forgotten piece of history and was no longer of any importance. At first I had been shocked, disgusted and ashamed of the actions forced on my by mistresses Sharon and Julie. How easy I called them Mistress, but it seemed so natural. My first tastes of my own sexes love juices had repulsed me, and I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. But now I found the desire almost natural and the very thought of those fleshy honey pots left me with butterflies and aroused. I found myself studying other women when I was out in the town and that brought the recent events back into my mind. I wanted nothing more than to be allowed to serve my mistresses once more, something they had promised me would happen this weekend. But the end of the week seemed ages away, almost as if it would never come. Simon had been in a foul mood when I arrived home Friday. He had packed the kids off to his mothers, and he had launched into a full scale shouting match when I walked through the door. He showed me the email he had received, as well as the images. My new sense of arousal, of excitement vanished as I realised he was aware of my degradation and the level to which I had sunk. I felt a shock and shame that were beyond anything I had known before had, and the tears returned to stain my face. The next twenty four hours had been a living hell and we had rowed like never before. He had slept in Kylie's room and had taken to calling me a "whore", a "slut" and a "dyke". I spent most of those hours crying and begging for him to understand, but he refused to even discuss it anyfurther. He had not raised a hand to me, but he had abused me verbally and I felt degraded and humiliated beyond any thing I would have imagined possible. Saturday lunch time had seen a second email arrive, and the attachments included more images, this time of my shop lifting, and then more close ups of my servitude to the mistresses. The storm had blown up once more and I really though it was going to come to blows. But by 4.00 p.m it had died back down, and the realisation that 8.00 p.m loomed, sank in, Simon had ranted and raved, but he had come to accept that he really had no choice but to report as instructed. A final email at 5.00 p.m had included no further images, just a series of instructions. We were both to shower, and to shave are genitals. Our nails, toe and fingers were to be neat and we were also to shave our legs. He was, in addition, to shave any chest hair, something which both baffled him and left him fuming once more. But the storm had abated and cursing was all he had left in him. We had carried out our 'orders' but the leg shaving wasn't something he found easy, and in the end I had to shave my husbands legs for him. I found it faintly erotic kneeling there, shaved and neat myself, holding my husbands legs, as I shaved them clean of hair. His chest hair was even more erotic and left him looking so baby like. Chapter Six The darlings were on time!The Vicar and the School Master, both pawns within our game, and both with so many new experiences ahead of them! As I fully expected Simon, started to argue and plead his case. That he wasn't to be held responsible for his wife's weaknesses, that he shouldn't even be here. That this was nothing to do with him. Denise knew better than to argue and she stood in silence. I could only laugh at his pleading and smile as he went on. He ranted, but he finally slowed and ran out of steam before he fell silent. Once he had stopped it was my turn. I pointed out he was welcome to leave and that he had two choices. He could turn and walk out. Then with in the hour a series of emails would be sent out to his headmaster, the local paper, the bishop, his pupils. Or he could be sensible and do as we bid him, A simple choice and if he wished to be sensible, then he was to go to the dressing room and follow the instructions posted in there. I could see his mind working as he went over the permutations, the choices. But I knew we had won, when his head dropped and he slowly walked off to the dressing room. Chapter seven I had thought I could talk my way out of this mess, but I realised all to soon that I was backed into a corner. A corner not of my making I reminded myself, but even for that, I knew I had no real choice. The dressing room was empty except for a note pinned to the wall. It simply told me to strip, and then await someone to dress me. Dress? My mind struggles with the notion or where this was leading. For a life time I stood there, my mind screaming for me to 'screw this' and run. Yet something held me back, a fear of the consequences? If I ran from here, then I would loose my marriage, but what state was that in now, after the stupid cows recent actions? But the worst fear was public ridicule, of the blonde bitch carrying her threats out. My hands actually shook as I shed my t-shirt, and one by one my clothes joined it in a discarded heap on the floor. I found myself standing naked in a ladies clothes shop changing room, my man hood wilted, my body shaved of any hair and my self esteem at rock bottom. I heard foot steps approaching the curtain and my stomach turned in fear as to what the next few minutes would hold. The curtain was pulled to one side and my Denise stood in front of me. She was no longer wearing the clothes she had entered the store in, but instead was dressed in a French maids outfit. Her legs, always her best features, were encased in barely black hold ups, and her calves lengthened by here black PVC high heals. The skirts hem was inches above the hold ups seams and her cleavage was pushed and exposed to a tarty degree, by the dresses bodice. She was actually smiling as she walked in, leaving the curtain a jar. "What the fuck..." was my spoken reaction, but the words trailed off as I seem to sag in to acceptance that within the walls of this shop things were far from normal. I seemed to have slid into a depraved universe. Denise smiled and I noticed for the first time a box in her hands, She lifted the lid, and I noticed the contents to be a matching set of clothing to her own. The thought, who were they for actually crossed my mind, can you believe I was so slow in the up take, so naïve? Then the true horror hit me, and the world I had known fell apart. Dissolved as realisation and fear filled my mind. Chapter eight. My Mistresses had, once Simon had sloped off, gave me my orders and then my uniform for the day. The dress was a perfect fit, but then what would you have expected from a women's dress shop owner? The lingerie plain and simple. White cotton panties, new crisp and fresh. The bodice insured I need no bra, and the heels made me feel so sensual. I could worship these two goddesses. How far I had come since the dress theft, and how much my mind had opened! Dressed as they had ordered I walked across the the changing room which held my husband. I could not believe that he had been dragged into this web, and that gave me some comfort. I was not the only fool and not alone in this. The box. I knew contained a matching outfit to my own, and I could not wait for the next five minutes. His face would be a picture, and for once I would have some control over what went on. The realisation that flooded over his face was a pleasure and the girly tears that leaked down his freshly shaved face were a treat. I knew the path I had been down to come to appreciate the sweet pleasure of servitude, and I wondered what awaited him. The first item I lifted from the box was a matching pair of white school girl like panties. Like my own, fresh and crisp. I knelt down and held one leg hole open for him to step into . He actually hesitated, then slowly raised his foot and pointed the toes into the hole. The panties stretched as they I slid them up his smooth legs and his tiny cock was so shrivelled it created no problems. The panties were a snug fit and I could see his man hood through the white fabric. The hold ups were an equal delight, as I knelt with them, squashed and opened ready for his toes. My husband rested his hands on my shoulders as he pushed his right foot into the proffered hold up. I rolled them up his surprisingly feminine legs and made sure they were straight, I couldn't have my sweet hubby looking untidy now could I! This was actually turning me on, I was enjoying the fact that his humiliation was as great as mine had been. I could feel my arousal and felt a wetness leaking from within me. The hold up and panties made him look every inch a girlie from the waist down, but I knew the dress would be the final touch. How my mistresses had done it I have no idea, but it was perfect fit. Unlike me he had been issued with a white bra, as well as some silicone shapes. These, worn under the dresses bodice gave him a nice cleavage, almost equal to my own! I stepped back to admire Simon, my man's man of a husband. The last item in the box was a wig, long, blonde and bob in style. With that on his head, I was stunned by how girlie he looked. His face was tear stained, but he looked every inch a pure sissy. Chapter Nine I sat in the changing room and had made no resistance to the application of the make up. I was beyond caring, and felt a resignation. No that's not quite true. The feelings as those hold ups had been slid up my leg had been disturbing. As each layer of clothing was applied, I felt a strangeness, almost an arousal. Now as I looked in the proffered mirror I was impressed with the feminine face that stared back at me. Lipstick, foundation, eye make up, hell you could almost believe I wasn't Simon Cawthorne, Maths Teacher, but the cute girl who smiled back at me. I could feel disturbing movements in my panties, and I hoped the arousal would not betray my depraved enjoyment of this moment. The only difference between Denise and I was my flat shoes, but they were just as black and just as PVC. As Denise and I walked across the shop sales area, I felt the first thrill of nylon on nylon as my hold ups brushed with each step. I could even feel the weight of my 'boobs', and my soft real hair move with each step. My arousal was becoming something hard to control, and only a deep nagging fear of what lay ahead kept it in some form of control. We stepped through into the shops back room and found we had stepped deeper into world of weirdness. Chapter Ten It had taken some courage, well balls if you will excuse the pun, to take what had been a fantasy and shape it into reality. Claire and I had been married two or three years and yes the sex was good. Hell for the first year we were like two rabbits, but after a time, well it got repetitive. OK she had her toys, and yes we had rolled play, but we had only ventured to the bounds of most would call normality. I had always dabbled in porn, and the wonders of the world wide web made it so much easier. All the porn I could ever want and free! I had always enjoyed a good 'dirty' story when looking for something to make me hard. I enjoyed the word more than the image, a good story would turn me on so much more. I had started with lesbians, hell what red blooded guy does find two women fucking each other a turn on? I used the usual sites, and in time drifted into chat rooms. There I could role play and if I struck lucky, get to watch some tart in action on her cam. Don't get me wrong, I am not weird, quite normal, in real life. But its just when it comes to sex, well I have a healthy interest. How I stumbled into TV's I have no real idea. I just know one day I was surfing images and found some stunning pictures of sissy men. One image that I still have tucked away on my lap top is of two beautiful sissy's, short skirts, long legs, sat side by side on the sofa, kissing. (just ask darling and am happy to send you the snap, maybe you will then see how my interest came about!). When I first saw the image, I took it to be two lesbians. But several jerk off's later and the penny dropped. I shut the PC down feeling sick at myself, but as the days passed I couldn't get the image out of my head. I found I would get a lump in my trousers, but I always felt it so wrong. But in time my interest got the better of me, and I hunted that picture down. From there on it was a slippery slope and soon I found I couldn't come, unless it was fantasying about those sissy boys. From there I drifted into 'specilised' chat rooms, and started meeting like minded men in the cyber world. I started chatting to an amazingly openminded woman, Sharon. She lived within the same town as me, and we would often chat on line for hours. She knew by the web site of my new tastes, all be it fantasy. But in time she offered me her mobile number, and I must have been so turned on as I gave her mine without thinking. The chat then developed into texts. I made sure Claire never knew of this correspondence, as she would have assumed I was fucking Sharon. That couldn't have been further from the truth as Sharon had a partner, Claire, so I was last person (or sex) she was interested in. But it was nice to have some to be open and honest with. I even came to admit to her that I fantasised about a sissy virgin. Hell I was no Casanova in that area, but in my mind, the sissy was always a virgin. Pure, unsullied, maybe a little nervous, or maybe, and hell I cant believe I told her this, unwilling. I would just get a stiffy thinking about him, all shy, and wanting to run, but being forced to please me. How sweet would that be? In time the texts gave way to an occasional phone call, and this served to increase the speed we explored our mutual tastes. We must have been chatting over all for one or two months, when Sharon told me she had discovered two new friends. A married couple in her town. Both respectable and with a darker layer under that. The woman was straight, but she had been shown the errors of her ways and had come round to developing a taste for her own sex. I knew Sharon enough by now to draw the conclusion that the flowering of this new friend, had not been totally willing. Then there was the husband? When Sharon hang up after that revelation I was so hard it ached. I could feel pre-cum seeping out of my cock, and I came picturing sweet sissy in my favourite picture pleasuring me. I couldn't get the image out of my head and I knew I had to take the risk and see if Sharon would let me live my fantasy. Chapter eleven. The room contained Sharon, a second woman who I took to be Julie, and a male figure in his early twenties. He was sat on the sofa, and he seemed nervous, but that didn't prevent his eyes raking me up and down. His eyes lingered on the hem of my skirt and he smiled at me. The true horror of my situation dawned on me, and I could feel myself starting to loose some control of my bladder. A warm wet feeling seeped out of me and I could feel the cotton panties soaking it up. What could I do? Run? Dressed like this? Denise had seemed to take some delight in telling me how her mistresses, our mistresses, recorded everything that happened within these four walls. How they would have everything recorded on a hard drive, ready to share with the world. The wet feeling in my panties increased and my cock wilted back into its small nothingness. Mistress Julie slowly eased her knees apart, revealing a hair free mound. Denise's head turned in her direction and I could sense where her eyes were looking. Mistress clicked her fingers, and like a trained puppy my 'darling' wife trotted over, dropped to her knees and buried her head into that proffered mound. She was lost to the world, her only desire being to drink from the source of those juices. My wife must have developed a skill and taste for pussy juice, as our mistress was soon leaning back, her face clearly showing the effect my wife's tongue was having. Mistress Sharon, walked over to me, her head turned so her eyes could feast on my wife's depravity. She smiled as she looked at my wife, the local vicar, the mother of two, 'miss butter wouldn't melt in her mouth', dressed as a French tart, kneeling with her face buried into wet pussy. How far she had fallen, and I feared I was coming to look over the same precipice. "Now my sissy, be a good girl, and go and sit next to our guest." She patten me on my panties and then taking me by the hand, guided me to where the 'guest' sat. Mistress sat one side of me, and he sat the other. I felt like a filling in a fetish sandwich. I kept my eyes to the front, to avoid eye contact, but that just made me focus on my nylon covered knees and made me realise how good they looked. Painted nails traced a line along that nylon and goose bumps followed the finger, as mistress slid her fingers under the hem of my skirt and eased my legs apart. As her hands closed in on my sodden panties crotch, my cock stirred and strained at the thin cotton covering. I could feel myself being aroused by her nails and fresh seeping of pre-cum starting to coat the top of my small cocks head. I closed my eyes as my arousal grew and I could feel the response growing. I could feel my body betraying me, but the desire to resist seemed to diminish as time passed. Her free hand traced its fingers around my freshly applied lipstick and I parted my lips to welcome the manicured nails into my mouth. But instead I felt her hand reach to cup the back of my blonde wig, and steer my head gently away from her, towards the other side of the fetish sandwich and in a downward direction. I tried to resist the pressure, to stop the downward movement, but she merely increased the pressure. I opened my eyes in terror as I knew the sight that would greet me. His legs were parted and his zip undone. He had released his erect cock from its captivity and it seemed to fill my vision. My cock was sad and pathetic, but his in every sense the opposite. How any woman would fit that monster in her was beyond me, and now they expected me to! The thought trailed off as I tried to blank the images out of my mind. As my head drew closer I could see the one eyed snake in all its detail. The purples of its arousal and the sheen of pre-cum seeping out of that one eye. It drew closer, and I pressed my lipstick covered lips together in a futile effort at resistance. I could smell his arousal as it brushed my lips, and I felt the pressure as the huge cock sought to part them. I mumbled "no" between my hard pressed lips, but my mistress told me to "open up like a good little sissy". The hard head slid between my lips and pressed against my teeth. But my teeth remained closed. A final barrier to what I could never permit There was no way that monster was ever coming into my mouth, Chapter Twelve I had been a nervous wreck when I first arrived at the address Sharon had text me. Was I walking into a nightmare or a fantasy forefillment? As I drew closer, my pace slowed, but I made it finally to the front door of the shop. Sharon had met me and introduced me to her partner, Julie. They were both stunning, and dressed to thrill. Long legs, and 'little material' summed their up their attire. They had both been friendly and made me feel welcome. By the time I was sat on their sofa, I was feeling relaxed and confident that I had made the right choice. Sharon had vanished to greet our 'expected' guests, and I had been treated to the joys of watching a sissy being born via a discreet cam. By the time the transformation was complete, you would have taken him to be a vision of pure femininity. Any doubts I had vanished when the two 'girls', wife and sissy, stepped into the room. The wife was pure tart as she responded to Julie finger click and all but dived head first into the offered wet flesh. But sissy was a little more recluctant. This was after all his, as well as mine, first time. But he had no notion I was a virgin, and shaking inside as much as he was on the outside. Sharon guided him across the room to where I sat and I could not take my eyes of those legs. They were perfection and only helped draw my eyes up towards the hidden delights I knew lurked at their pinnacle. This might be my first time, but I knew what I wanted and I knew I would get it, by hook or by crook. My cock was pressed against his teeth and I cupped my hand against his head, pushing to gain access. "Come on darling" I cooed as I stroked her hair. "Open up sissy, you know the rules". The reminder of what fate awaited him if he refused must have worked as his lips parted and my hard thick shaft finally slid into his pussy mouth. As he took the length in and started reluctantly to suck, it was all I had ever fantasised it would be. Chapter fourteen. I knew when she spoke those words I had no choice, I knew I had to let that monster in. I parted my teeth a fraction, and the large ram forced its way through the gap and into my mouth. His scent filled my nostrils and I to feel the length against my tongue. My first reaction was to gag, to throw up, but as my tongue involuntary stroked his hard length, his juices flowed from the tip and into my mouth. The scent became less repulsive, my tongue started to stroke the cock, and his juices became almost sensual. I could feel the hard thickness filling my pussy mouth as I began to suck hungrily on his cock. My repulsion diminished and I could feel my own smaller cock responding. His fingers fumbled to release it from my cotton panties and they closed around its thinner shaft. He started to stroke it, and pumped it, so it betrayed me. His hard cock was so sweet and I could feel it beginning to twitch as his arousal reached new peaks. My mind failed to register the meaning of his movements nor to warn me. But the feel of his hot salty cum sliding down my throat made me only want to suck harder, and his fingers brought my cock to release its cum into his hands. We both moaned as we came, all most together, His darling gentle hands lifted my head away from its new found delights and he kissed me. My cum tasting mouth smeared with his juices, as we kissed long and hard. I could feel his cock wilt in my fingers, and a sadness of something special slipping away filled me. But I pressed my cum covered tongue into his mouth, so he could taste the juices I had come to lust for Chapter fifteen. We had come so far, and I knew now that fresh delights yet awaited us with this couple, husband and wife, or sissy and tart? Sharon sat next to our guest on the settee, and kneeling before each of their spread legs was the vicar and sissy. A pair of pure white cotton panties, topped with a hem of a maids uniform facing out into the room. There feet stockinged feet pointed towards me and I could see their heads move almost in unison. But one tongue was savouring the juices of my own lover and the other dining on hard wet cock. As they worked away on these proffered delights, I could not help but look at the thinness of the cotton covering those rounded bottoms. Both hinting at further areas to be explored, to be savoured and to be abused! Our sissy and our tart may think they have sampled all we had to offer, but they could not have been further from the truth. They were broken in as two horses might be, but they weren't yet fully ridden! Dragging my eyes from the scene before me, I crossed the room to a cupboard where we stored all our toys. I was after only two of them for now. I wanted a ball gag for each of our pets and some jell. Some nice cool K-Y jell, after all we didn't want our darlings to suffer, to much. I handed a ball gag each to both Sharon and our guest, Pete. Then I lifted sissy's head to allow the ball gag to be slipped into place and secured. The sweet girlie didn't even flinch as the hard rubber ball was pushed into his mouth and the buckle fastened. Tart was showed similar lack of resistance and took the gag as any good submissive should. We stood our two pets up and I could but not help smile how similar they looked Both would need their lipstick and make up touching up. Both had traces of their own sexes juices smeared over their faces, and both had the odour of their recent services emanating from their faces. Sissy looked a picture, she still looked so fem, yet the cum stains round her face showed what she had become. Peter stood holding our sissy's hand. He was naked now and his limp cock hung down from his thick pubic hair bush. Sissy's cock was erect, but it lack of stature meant it hardly showed beyond a bulge in his school girl panties. His wife looked at her husband and smiled at what he had become. She must have realised they had both slipped far down a debauched path, that was a one way journey. Julie smiled at me and took tarts hand. She led her over to where Peter and sissy stood hand in hand. She placed a hand on tarts shoulders and with gentle pressure brought her to the kneeling position in from of Peter's limp monster. It took seconds to release tart from her gag, and to insure her face looked forward into that thick bush. Julie then turned her attention to sissy, but I could not catch the words she spoke to him. But I say sissy's face redden and Julie used the gag she had in her hand to whip sissy. The buckle left an ugly red welt on his buttock, but the action had the desired result. Sissy's hand reached for the limp monster and gently held it up so it faced towards his wife. Tart opened her mouth as if forming a burrow for the snake to enter. Her husband guided the large head into tarts mouth and as the monster stirred, fed it deeper in. Tart closed her lips around the lengthening cock and I was sure she could taste sissy's saliva on its skin. She knew what was expected of her and she was a good girl. As the monster grew to its full glory, she worked her mouth and tongue on it, bring it to a fresh peak. Sissy stood and watched as his wife was sucking the cock he had fed her, and envy seemed to fill his expression. Peter groaned and tarts eyes widened in shock as the cock responded to her tongue, and a fresh jet of hot salty cum filled her mouth and she had no choice but to swallow. As he came, Peters hands grasped tarts head and impaled her deeper on to his phalic length. His load shot, tart released the cock from her mouth and I could see traces of seamen seeping down from her mouth and staining her face at it had sissy's. Chapter sixteen. My Mistresses command to fed the first cock I had ever tasted into my wife's mouth brought fresh waves of shame and humiliation over me, Just when I thought I had reached the bottom when things could not get more depraved, Mistress added the twist. I had to fed another man's flaccid cock into my wife's mouth and I had to watch as she brought it to life, and as she hungrily dined on it. The shame that we had both sucked on that length of flesh was almost to much. Peters hands pulled her head deeper onto his erection and I could only watch as his cum filled her mouth. I could only watch, and feel shame or was it jealousy? As Denise sat back and used her tongue on the semen escaping her mouth, Mistress Sharon took my hand and led me towards a table in the corner of the room. She placed a hand in the small of my back and pressed me forward so I bent over the flat surface. With her feet she eased my lovely stocking legs apart. I could still taste Peters cum in my mouth, and although my mind wondered what fresh things were to be inflicted on me, I could not stop thinking back to how he had felt in my pussy mouth. God I missed the feeling of that hard flesh against my tounge. Mistress Sharon gently held me down, as her lover eased my panties down. I could feel the cold air on my buttocks as her hands parted them. My mind began to realise what was about to happen to me. I knew that I was about to be violated once more, in fresh ways. But this time I was excited, and felt that this invasion would make me a proper girlie. Would make me a true sissy as my virgin arse pussy had its cherry popped! A coldness stung my flesh as Mistress finger applied K-Y jell over my arse hole. My sweet virgin arse hole, what I could see as my pussy. After all true girlie's had to be able to offer a dark wet hole for a cock to fill, and I was no different, was I? Her fingers smeared the jell around it, but my attention was turned elsewhere as I heard Peter walk across to where I was bent over, legs apart. Julies finger was removed and a thicker one took its place, one I knew to be Peter's. His finger slid into my arse hole, smearing the jell inside that virgin passage. My cheeks tried to clench in an instinctive reaction at what I knew was coming. I was scared, nervous of the pain, but then aren't all true girls when their virginity is about to be taken? The tip of his hard cock against my pussy hole was still a shock. It felt so big, and my hole so small. He teased the tip round it and then eased it in a short distance. The flesh yielded to let him in that short distance, before he with drew it once more. I relaxed, may be it was over. But I knew I was wrong. I hoped I was! The second invasion went deeper this time, and the pain increased with the depth of that penetration. I moaned in disappointment against my gag as he with drew a second time. I heard a muffled scream from the far side of the room, and my logic told me Denise was being similarly invaded, but not by hard cock, but rather a thick plastic length. The third invasion started as gentle as the previous two and I relaxed against it. The flesh had been stretched and it admitted the cock with less pain. But this time he didn't stop as he passed the point of no return, and I felt his body press into me as his cock went deeper. I screamed against the enforced entry, and I felt as if my arse hole was being ripped open. He seemed to fill me and was so very big. I screamed once more, and then the head passed beyond my sphincter. The pain diminishednow my cherry had been taken. His length slid deep into me and filled me. I felt a true girlie, I felt sheer joy at his filling me. I leant into him as he pumped his body against me, and I could feel his length sliding within me. But the joy I felt was nothing compared to how I felt as his hard cock shot its fresh load deep into my new pussy hole.. I felt I had become a pure sissy, that I was where I belonged and had never been happier. I lay bent over the table, filled with my lovers warm juices, and his flaccid cock resting deep within me. I tried to press myself onto the length but it was to soft, and that made me feel so sad. But I knew this was the first of many such surrenders. I was happy and had forgotten the enforced sissyfication, the forcing of a cock into my mouth, the tears, the shame, I just wanted to be the perfect sissy. Chapter seventeen. Mistress had reapplied my gag but I could still feel the salty sperm deep in my throat. With a hand on my shoulder she guided me back onto my feet. I could see Simon bent over the table and Mistresses finger caressing the dark entrance. How had he let himself be corrupted, sissified and then made to perform a blow job on another man's cock? What had he become? What had we both become at the hands of these two women? My husband was dressed as a girl and I have to admit, once the shock had passed, I was jealous of his legs. He looked pure female, and good enough to eat! It was as if Mistress had scraped a thin top layer off and found the true Simon hiding there. As if he had become the 'she' he really was. But then I had travelled my own path and had discovered a deep hunger for a the wetness and pure honey only an aroused pussy could offer. I week ago this discovery would have shaken my world to the core and been damned as a sin. But now it was all I wanted and all I ever thought of. Mistress led me to the table and bent me over so I lay beside the sissy. Her hands slid my cotton panties down and her feet parted my legs so I was nicely spread from ankle up. The next sensation was a single finger applying a cold jell to my arse hole, a coldness that gave me goose bumps and butterflies of anticipation. I heard Mistress Sharon's heels click as she walked round the table a few minutes later, and I was stunned to a large phallic object coming from her mound, a massive rubber cock. It was a replica of the meal I had dined on a few minutes past. I knew where the dildo was to go, and I felt sick at the pain I knew I would be forced to experience. The few tears I had left trickled down my checks and I mumbled protests against the gag my mistress had refitted. But that pain was matched by a nervous excitement of a new experience that I knew would please my mistress and that I would come to enjoy. Mistress took position behind me and I could feel the hard plastic pressed against my arse hole. The dildo felt cold and I could feel a layer of jell had been applied to its length. Miss pressed it deeper and it slid between my checks. I held my breath waiting what I knew was to come. The tip pressed into my small arse hole, and its sheer width forced the holes edges to expand. The length resumed its passage into my hole and it barely paused. Miss kept pressing forward and that stretching of my hole became faster as the thicker parts of the dildo slid in. The pain became much worse, and I found myself screaming into my rubber ball gag. But forced entry didn't pause and I felt as if I was being torn in half. The pain became almost to much to bear, but as soon as it became to much, it eased. My hole had been expanded sufficient to allow the remaining length of the toy to slide in, to fill my arse hole. Madam rode me as a bull would ride its cow. Her trusts filled me and she didn't pause as she sought her own satisfaction. I could feel her as she rode me in and out, never stopping. Then with one final trust which threatened to pierce me completely my mistress came. She held the dildo deep into me as she rested her body weight against me. Mistress and ridden her cow and in doing so had both come and taken me to another layer of depravity. A lot of sissys experinces are guess work on my behalf, but I hope I haavent dissapointed or spoilt the tale for anyone who reads it/ Fed back as every welcome. Oh and the picture Pete loved, it is real and quite special! Shaz