From Bro to Sissy Sub Pt. 02

I could have just told Master Magnus I would do it for his cock; the results might have been the same. But it felt like a lie, and my very submission to him precluded me from lying to him. This was the basic sticking point; and I didn't have any way to communicate the complexity of this ethical/emotional/existential issue because he posed it as a binary choice.

Friday morning, I received another box, with several outfits, of the usual sexualized tropes: the "naughty nurse," white latex mini dress with white fishnets and high heeled wedges; "naughty teacher," big round glasses, silky low-cut blouse, and tight skirt and high-heeled pumps, no teacher would last a schoolday in; and the standard "naughty French maid."

I laughed at the clichés but tried each one on; these were not cheap Halloween costumes; they were the real deal, and I luxuriated in them and felt my new constant companion pain of my clitty burgeoning in its cage. The box also had a dog collar with the words "Cuck Sissy Bitch!" in rhinestones on it, and a note tied on it. "Will tell you which outfit, but must wear collar."

For all its issues, my penis was the most accurate gauge of my desires. That note gave me a sharp pain down there, as it spasmed and tried to spring to attention in response. For years, I'd struggle to achieve and maintain an erection for sex with my stunning hot wife, but couldn't stop getting hard from the humiliation my oldest friend and new Master was dishing out.

I imagined myself watching Master Magnus using and abusing my wife again, while I was bound wearing one of these outfits. With a big dildo vibrating and filling my hole. Maybe I'd finally be "femme" enough to suck Master Magnus's big fat cock and he'd let me come again.

At five, he texted me: "maid's outfit; 7pm, sharp!"

"Yes, Sir. Please can we talk?" I wanted more info, and to see if we could talk about the situation and maybe tell him about Jayden, and didn't feel I could text any of that.

"Sorry, sissy, too busy! Maybe in an hour..." he never called back.

I got to his building fifteen minutes early, but sat in the car until five-to, so I would be there exactly on time. The guys at the front desk leered at me, as I walked to the elevator; I took it up to the penthouse, a modern glass palace in the sky, on the 35^th floor, huge, with plate glass windows all around. Master Magnus greeted me at the door, jovially.

"Well, well! Who's this pretty girl? Mmm, mmm, you look good enough to eat, little sissy."

"Thank you, Master." I was so proud for his compliment; I looked down and blushed.

He led me into the vast apartment, I had seen only a few times. Magnus had done very well for himself in Marketing (senior partner at AD&M, one of the biggest firms in town). This apartment was his crown jewel; he bought it six months before the accident. His selling it had surprised me.

A short entryway opened to a large great room, combination kitchen/living/ dining room, but with open spaces, lots of seating and art. I saw trays of hors d'oeuvres on the large kitchen island, and bottles and glasses set out for service at the bar. Clearly, for more than three people. I gave him a quizzical look.

"Yep, a little change in plan, sissy. I know I promised you could watch me fuck the whore tonight, but, you know, friends from out of town... unexpectedly..." he said this in a sing-song tone that acknowledged he was lying, but didn't care enough to be convincing.

"... and, well, you see... we must attend to them. So, you won't be allowed to watch tonight. Aww, tsk tsk, so sorry, and you've been such a good little sissy bitch, and look so pretty too. Tell me, have you made a choice yet, honey?"

"Master, I'm sorry... but may I speak with Flora, please. Is she here?"

"Aww, no, cucky, I am afraid you can't, little buddy. She is... uhm... shall we say... tied up at the moment. Ha ha ha, tied up! Harrumph, ahh haa haa!" He chortled.

"But, Sir, why can't I speak with her?"

"Faggot, I told you before, don't fucking question me!" His mood and tone went from syrupy sweet to vinegary sour, and he slapped me across the face.

"This... this right here, is why you can't speak to her. You need to learn your place in this hierarchy, little sis. And you can't do that if you keep thinking of her as yours. She's my slut first, now, then somewhere down the line, she'll be your 'wife' again. We have to break the bond to rebuild it. When you decide, I will let you be with her for all that romantic shit. I decided she can't see you as anything but my girlie cuck, before you can see her again."

"I'm having a problem with the decision, Sir because I don't have her to talk to about it."

"Okay, little sissy. I'll think about letting you talk to her on the phone soon. But tonight... it's out of the question!

"Uhm... hm... do you know what a gangbang is, sissy cuck?"

"Erm, yeah... sort of... a lot of guys having sex with one woman?"

"Very good, sissy! Well do you know what bukkake gangbang is?"

"No, I don't think so, Sir."

"That's were a bunch of men fuck a woman until they ejaculate on her face or other parts of her body, making a real mess of her. Tonight, I have arranged for about twenty men to come here and fuck and come on the whore. She's in that room right there, gagged with ring that keeps her mouth open for them to fuck and come into and tied up so that her holes are accessible to whoever wants to use them, and she can't stop it."

"B-b-b-bu-but..., why... would...?"

"Because she is my property, sissy, and I can do whatever I want with her!" He slapped me again, not too hard just bracing.

"I can share her with whoever and however I want. She needs to learn that, and it will help you too. You don't want her to form a romantic attachment to me. This breaks that; she doesn't need to love me, just obey me and please me. You want her to still have a need for you, so you can continue to fulfill that role, but I want her to see you as peer property, a kind 'sister wife.'"

In a fucked up, inside-out logic way, this sort of made sense to me, and I relented from trying to see her. Then, he gave me my assignment. I was to be a maid for the men waiting to go in to fuck and cum on my wife... I mean... his whore. They would go in random groups of three to six, come back out when they had ejaculated on her, and rest up before going back in for more when ready. I was to tend to their "needs," in the great room, ersatz waiting room.

I was to suck their cocks upon requested, which I had practice on the dildo and, of course, on Mr. Johnson. He warned they were free to slap me around; he had given them permission to be rough with me. They couldn't fuck me or remove my plug entirely. They were not allowed to come, they had to save it for his whore. I did not have to ask permission come, but if I did, he would give me one lash for each, as payment.

I had not yet achieved an anal sissygasm, though I was close a few times by turning the plug up; and with Mr. Johnson, I had to stop before I found myself in trouble.

As the first few guys arrived, they sat around politely chit-chatting, like at a cocktail party, and I went around with the food trays and made drinks. They all seemed eager and enthusiastic. The first group went in. I had not seen or heard Flora since I arrived. The door opened, and I could hear hooting and hollering.

Then a sharp yelp, moaning, and the slap of flesh hitting flesh. Once the door closed though, I could hear nothing. It went on like that all night; guys going in and coming out. The door would open to a roaring ruckus inside, sometimes I could just make her voice out, screaming or begging for cock or cum. Outside there was a calmer vibe; guys were catching their breaths, and resting up to go back in, or newcomers getting ready to go in, while smooth jazz played quietly through the integrated speakers.

It was a while before anyone asked for a blowjob, though they often grabbed at me and pinched my fake tits. My first guy, was amazing. He came in alone, between the first wave of (about eight guys) and the second, three guys had gone in and were now resting, and the other five guys were in there with her. The three resting guys all had drinks in hand and towels to mop their sweat. New guy had just taken off his clothes in the large bathroom off the great room. I was coming back with his drink, as he came out in a robe.

Master Magnus wanted to make sure everyone knew I was the "Sissy Cuck Bitch." In this context, it was definitely my wife in there. In case they hadn't read the dog collar, he had me take off my nice silky panties and ripped my tight skirt up the front to display my little caged clitty. He tied a pink bow from behind my balls to the front, to attract attention to it.

New guy was Paul; he was an older black man, but in very good shape, and he had much larger than average cock, not quite as big as Master's. He looked at my collar closely then pulled me down by its D-ring, to my knees facing his meaty cock. He leaned down; I thought he was going to kiss me, and leaned in and lifted up my chin toward him and parted my lips. He got about a foot away, squeezed my cheeks together, until I opened my mouth further, and spat in it.

"Don't swallow that, bitch," he said as he straightened out and pushed his cock in behind it.

"That's yer wife in there, cuck faggot?" I nodded with his cock deep down my throat.

"You're okay with all these men disrespecting your woman? You must really be 'sissy cuck bitch.'"

I nodded my head enthusiastically and moaned on his delicious cock. Maybe because I wasn't actually seeing her, or the constant sexual distraction, but I had half-forgotten the cuckolding aspect. I would have stopped to consider it further, but the cock in my mouth was driving all other thoughts out of my mind. He yanked it out suddenly like he wanted me to speak.

"Yes, I'm sissy cuck bitch, Sir." I gasped, wanting him to return his cock down my throat.

It is impossible to describe what sucking cock was like for me. I felt it with Mr. Johnson. As soon as his penis touched my lips, I had goosebumps all over. It was like thousands of tiny pulses going off all over my body. My clitty fought hard against its restraint, as he began to dive down my gullet again. There was that same musky man smell. And, I felt so full at both ends with the plug firmly planted in my ass. It was magical; my ass spasmed as the humiliation hit me.

I was wriggling on it, as he slowly fucked my face. I loved it instantly, but what I really enjoyed even more were the moans I elicited from this real man. I began to moan and hum onto his cock and throw myself forward as he thrust in. I was working myself up to a sissygasm with him getting close too; I knew if I made him come in my mouth, I would squirt all over my cage.

But he held me back from that. He had no intention of coming out here with the sissy cuck bitch, when behind the door was the nirvana of fucking and abusing my... I mean Magnus's slut.

I was a bit disappointed, but let him just slowly guide his cock down my throat, saving himself for the big event. The next wave of company arrived, and I was duty-bound to say goodbye to Paul's meaty cock and my near encounter with a sissygasm, to offer to our new guests hospitality, while Paul walked in to fuck Magnus's whore. There were four new ones; I took drink orders pointed them to the hors d'oeuvres, and the changing room.

As I saw Paul go in, his cock stiff and bobbing, I felt proud of that erection. At a pause in hostess duties, a guy came out and became the first I licked clean after fucking the whore. He grabbed my ribboned cage and pulled me over by it, and squeezed my berries until I knelt before him. His cock was all slimy, but he had that same musky scent mixed with sex. I could taste my wife's pussy and fresh cum on his cock. I worshipped it, licked all over until it was clean and then swallowed it whole.

He was much smaller than Paul, I let him rest down my throat until I felt him start to get hard, then I just started sucking him off like the blowjob queens I had watched for instruction. He pushed my head, aggressively pulling my hair mercilessly, then yanked me off his cock like he was on fire and ran back into the room. I was left gasping, when one of the new guys came over and replaced him in my mouth.

I was soon blowing three guys at a time, as they waited to go in. As I was sucking one cock, one of the other guys, began to play with my plug. I threw myself forward, onto the cock I was sucking, to give him more access. He was doing it absentmindedly, like someone might fiddle with button. But I was building up a rhythm and could feel a climax building. Just then more guys came in, and the guy fucking me with the plug got distracted:

"She's kind of busy at the moment; food over there, drinks here, and change through there."

He declared, doing my job using hand signals, then he shoved one of the other guys out of the way to get his cock into me. One of the other two guys spanked my bottom and took over the plug, fucking me harshly. I pushed back against him trying encouragingly; he grabbed my pencil neck from behind and squeezed while pushing my face into his cohort's crotch.

I was so close; I couldn't ask for it, but was delighted when he began to choke me as I swallowed the cock and he played with my plug. I was having my first sissygasm my whole body quaked and trembled as I spurted ribbon after ribbon of my thin unmanly sperm. But it was like rockets going off inside me.

I was more or less on my knees for the rest of the night. Master Magnus came out a couple of times and gave me encouragement especially when he saw me sucking cock. I came few more times; it was hard to keep track because for the rest of the night I was constantly on the verge.

I was just resting on a couch, after the very last group of three went in, with no more were waiting to go. Master Magnus came out. He harried me off the couch and out of the apartment steering me brusquely, handing me my purse on the way. He said I had to go home as I was, without washing up, my face a total mess, hair in shambles, and my slutty skirt ripped with the big bow on my tiny cage and no panties.

He brooked no argument, and I soon found myself on the other side of his slamming door. I made my way to the lobby, where the front desk staff and doormen, having seen troops of men marching to the penthouse all night, had quite a snicker at my condition; they may have thought I was the entertainment. I walked through shame-faced, holding my purse in front of tiny caged clitty, with the mangled bow still wrapped around it. I practically ran to my car, got in and cried--shuddering and blubbering bawling, until I got myself together and drove home.

But I hadn't peed all night and couldn't hold it until I got home. I had to stop in gas station. I had hoped to just duck in and out, but at the closest station I had to go in and ask for key. I had no choice. I asked the store clerk for the key, he looked at me astounded then pointed and laughed. I still had on the "Sissy Cuck Bitch" collar. I stood there in my wrecked skirt, French maid outfit, desperately holding my clutch purse to hide my clitty.

He smiled wickedly, and handed me a foot of 2x4 chained to the bathroom key. He yanked it back as I was reaching for it, forcing me to move my purse, revealing my cage with its contents and ribbon. I snatched the key with its bulky ballast and minced toward the outside toilet. He leered at me the whole way out, and I felt very uncomfortable. I peed and tried to straighten myself up as much as possible and took off the collar.

When I went in to return the key, there was an older lady paying for gas, and I managed put the 2x4 on the counter and out again. It seemed like a narrow escape; I sat in my car and breathed before taking off, and thought about what had happened. I felt so humiliated and debased, but I was happy to have been allowed to come so much. I licked my lips thinking of all the cocks I sucked.