(Trigger warning: sissification, forced gay sexual acts, bondage, choking)

CHAPTER 1 – Melinda

You’re not really sure how you found yourself at the home of this hot-as-fuck redheaded middle-aged lady named Melinda, but you met at a bar, she seemed like good fun, and why the fuck not? Now you’re lying spread eagle on her bed as you take a mental picture to remember this moment, and what a brilliant decision you’d clearly made.

A little tipsy and sitting astride your cock, she has a wicked smile as she stops for breath, and asks “I’d enjoy this even more if I could tie you up”. You were never one to shy away from a little kink, but you weren’t usually on this side of the bondage. You sit upright as she slides behind you.

You don’t see them, but she grabs some solid leather cuffs she keeps under the bed at all times, and a large padlock. You feel them though–the strong, cool leather–as she cuffs your hands behind your bed tightly, then climbs over your head, pushing you down backward. She pulls herself up and over your face, then sticks out her ass, as you smell the tantalizing aroma of her cunt, inches from your eager tongue.

She takes you into her mouth, teasing your erect little cock with an expertly trained tongue. She’s acutely aware that she’s nothing like those college girl whores. She knows exactly how to handle a cock. And soon, she muses to herself, you will too.

Melinda proceeds to give you the best blowjob you’ve had in your whole worthless life. You blow your load into her mouth, then she sits up and throws her full weight on you as she sits back, buttcheeks pressing against your chest. She grabs a small glass from the bedside table. You assume she’s getting some water to wash down your cum; but instead, you hear her spitting into it. Maybe she just doesn’t like to swallow, but it leaves you a little disappointed.

In your defense, you genuinely didn’t know she was married, but if you’ve paid attention to anything other than her beautiful ass as you walked into her home and up the stairs, you might have found out the truth in a little more timely fashion.

No more than half a minute could have gone by, Melinda brushing your thighs lightly as you lay there panting, when her husband John slammed open the door.

He was a furious monstrosity of a man, obviously military. You would’ve jumped up and made a run for it, but with your hands tied behind your band and Melinda’s ass pushing your chest firmly down, the best you can manage is a girly little whimper.

But far from a look of anger, you instead see a sly smile form on his face.

“Oh babe, your fishing trip went well then”, he said, whimsically.

Well … that certainly wasn’t the reaction you’d been expecting. Why hasn’t his fist landed squarely in the center of your face already?

Melinda, seemingly oblivious to the intrusion, replies “Of course honey, I promised I’d net you a pretty one”, then turns to face you directly. “This is my husband John, he wanted a cute little sissy boy to fuck while I’m out of town for the next week, so you’re … well, you’re his now, ok?”

You’re still trying to process what has just happened, and formulate a response, but before you can get more than half a word out, Melinda deftly twists around and tips the glass of cum onto three outstretched fingers, before sliding them into your agape mouth. She pushes in further, forcing your jaw open, and you taste your own salty cum as she swirls her fingers around your tongue.

You choke a little as she reaches even further. John has moved closer now, and he instinctively opens a drawer, pulling out a gag. In one fluid motion that they’ve obviously practiced before on countless other victims, she withdraws her fingers and he pushes a large ring gag in, shoving it behind your teeth and keeping your mouth open wide. He yanks up your head as she roughly buckles it at the back.

“I don’t need to hear your bitchy sissy whining, and your mouth has a far better use”. Her voice is decidedly darker now; gone is the playful older woman you met at the bar, replaced by a sadistic mistress.

John grabs your body his huge bulging arms, then drops you to your knees beside the bed, before Melinda slides down behind you, grabbing your head with both hands. “I promise you’ll love it”, she whispers into your ear, “I could see it in your eyes the moment I met you: that deep desire for a real cock”.

John unbuckles his belt, then drops his trousers. You stare longingly at his long, thick, and perfectly formed cock, before catching yourself. What the fuck is wrong with you? You squirm as he walks closer, dangling his still limp Adonis-like member in your direction, but Melinda’s hands are clasped so firmly on your head that you can’t do anything but stare forward. You switch efforts to your wrists, tightly bound in what you’d stupidly assumed were velcro play cuffs, but they weren’t budging one bit. You realize she wasn’t fucking around with one of those beginner bondage kits from Walmart.

You can smell it now–the unmistakable stench of another man’s cock–as John reaches down to guide the tip into your gaping wide mouth. As he glides in, your tongue instinctively moves up to lick and taste the intruder, even as you scream internally that this isn’t happening.

You pull your tongue back from the monster in your mouth and try in vain to vocalise any sound at all, but he pushes in further and no sound can escape.

It’s a squeeze to fit his full girth through the oversized gag, but your own cum and drool makes for good lubrication. As he hits the back of your mouth, your throat starts to spasm with a familiar feeling of throwing up. But he pulls back sharply, giving you only a moment to catch your breath before pushing in again.

He continues relentlessly, thrusting to the point of choking, then expertly pulling back a little. You lose track of how long this goes on for, and it takes all the mental ability you can muster just keep breathing between his thrusts.

Then you notice a change in rhythm, and open your eyes, as he arches his back, and starts to shake violently. He pushes himself in as far as he’ll fit, then tenses up, and you realize this is how the girls must have felt when you’ve done this to them. It’s a weird feeling, to have something sliding down your throat, without remembering you swallowed it in the first place. You’ve gone well past the need to throw up now, even with his seed freely flowing down your gullet.

John pulls out, his semi-hard cock dripping in front of you. “Good girl”, he simply says, as he pats you on the head. “We’ll have some more fun later; get him dressed up would you, babe?”

Then he walks out, and you hear the water turning on in the shower from further down the hallway.

“Well, you handled that better than I thought you would. I need to get you dressed for the main event though, John likes his sissy boys to be dressed once they’re broken in. Are you going to behave?”

You’re not really sure how to answer that, as you sit there, on your knees, with the copious semen of her husband lining your throat and stomach. You’re so weak and drained at this point that even if you wanted to run you probably couldn’t. What do you mean “even if you wanted to”!? Of course, you want to run, but you doubt you’d make it to the front door before John had you in a headlock. Secretly, you’re melting with pleasure at the thought of being a fuck toy for this beast of a man, but you’re not ready to admit it just yet, not even to yourself.

You nod in compliance, and Melinda’s voice takes on a more authoritative tone. “Good girl. Come now.”

Melinda pulls you up and removes the padlock binding your wrists together, but leaves the cuffs on. You’re trembling, your hair is a mess, and there’s a wet patch of drool all your down your top and on the carpet. You feebly try to stand, but need Melinda’s help.

As you stand there, naked, belly full of cum, she reaches down to fondle your pathetic little dick. She opens the drawer again and pulls out a small pink plastic device, before bundling your dick into it and clicking on a small padlock. “You won’t need this anymore”.

Next out comes a collar, a thick padded one with a box on the front. “This is just in case; it’s a shock collar and John holds the remote at all times. If you don’t do as you’re told, you’ll find yourself lying on the floor in crippling pain and barely able to breathe. There’s a perimeter sensor on the collar too, so don’t try to leave the house. Here’s the deal: I want you here for a week while I’m away on business. John needs to be serviced every morning and night, and during the day you’ll have chores to do around the house. After that, you’re free to go. Understand?”

You nod sheepishly.

“Alright then, let’s go”. She grabs your arm and yanks you forward.

As you stumble down the corridor, her words run through your head. For a week, you’re supposed to be … what? John’s sex slave and live-in maid? A week forced into submission and servitude, with no hope of leaving or defending yourself against him. The thought makes you shudder in crippling fear of what he’d do to you, and yet, some small part of you feels excited.

You approach a door at the end of the corridor—obviously a little girl’s bedroom, judging by the particularly garish shade of neon pink on the door. Melinda didn’t mention a daughter. “Open it”, she says, and you comply.

Your eyes struggled to take it all in, but you saw the bed first as the door pushes open. It’s in the center of the room, and dominates the space. It too is bright pink, a full four-poster bed, with some curious detailing on the top and bottom, as well as cage bars underneath. It’s covered in plastic sheets, and a simple white wedding dress awaits you.

You see an array of things around the room, like a wardrobe, vanity, and a bookcase, along with various toys and clothes scattered about the room. A small closet stands open, with several frilly and kinky-looking plastic dresses hanging inside.

Melinda watches you as you survey the room. You barely have time to take it all when you hear John walking along the corridor. He strolls in nonchalantly. Melinda sighs. “Alright, I’ll leave you two alone now”, Melinda says, as she leaves the room.

“Have fun on your trip, babe. See you soon. “

CHAPTER 2 – The Pink Prison

“Hurry up and put that on then”, he says calmly as he motions to the wedding dress that’s lying on the bed. You look at the dress, then back at him.

“No”, you boldly reply, desperate to regain a little control.

“That wasn’t a fucking question”, he states, aggressively now, as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out what looks like a keyfob for his car. Then you remember the collar, as a crippling electrical shock surges through the side of your neck, and you double over in pain. It stops as soon as it starts. You know what you need to do.

“Yes, sir”, you reply, and you’re happy to see he smiles a little.

“Good girl!”

You dress slowly, not entirely sure where all the layers of silk are supposed to go exactly, but you get there eventually and start to zip it up at the back. Who knew dresses could be so complicated?

“Come here”, John says. You walk over to him, bright red with embarrassment, and sheepishly turn around to hide your face—but also so he can finish zipping the dress up.

John wraps his enormous arms around you, embracing you from behind, and you feel his now hard cock push up against your ass through his loose trousers. He swings round to your side, leaving one arm wrapped around you, leans down and picks you up like you’re his princess bride. It’s almost romantic being whisked up like this, you think, until you feel his arm shift slightly so his thumb can find your tight little sissy hole. You’ve never had anything… up there… before. It goes in so easily that he was obviously prepared with a pre-lubed hand.

He carries you to the bed, where he sets you on the edge of the mattress, pulls his coarse thumb out, and steps back. For a split second, it looks like he might leave you here to contemplate your future, but as soon as a thought begins to cross your broken mind, he unbuckles his trousers and pants, and lets them drop to the floor. Head lowered, you can’t help but gaze upon … it, feeling your insides begin to turn. You remember what this monster did to you earlier in the evening, and feel both fear and excitement at what else he’ll torture you with tonight—nevermind the rest of the week.

Suddenly his hand moves towards your face. You flinch instinctively, but instead of hitting you, he pushes the same thumb he just used to violate your ass into your mouth, cupping you under the chin. You gag as he pushes in further, gripping the edge of the bed, and try to pull back your head to escape the choking feeling until there’s nowhere left to go. His whole body has pushed forward now, leaning over you, and your legs are spread wide, as his left hand reaches down to grab an ankle.

John’s thumb pushes down hard on your tongue to send the signal that he’s very much in charge of the situation, then he pulls it out and reaches for a bottle of thick, creamy lube from the bedside table.

With his other hand still holding your leg in the air, he rubs a generous amount of lube over his dick. John looks at you in amusement; he sees the horror on your face. “You look so scared, sweetie” he laughs. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle!” he assures you. With that, he leans forward and presses his erection right up against your boy-pussy, teasing it delicately.

Your eyes bulge out of your head and you gasp aloud as you feel the full girth of him enter you for the first time, pushing your tight little hole apart. It’s so big, it’s almost unbearable, but you can’t stop yourself from letting out a little girly moan of delight. You want to beg him to just fucking take you already, but you daren’t let him actually know that you’re enjoying every bit of this.

John seems to sense your feelings anyway, and his lube-slicked thumb slips back into your mouth for a couple of seconds, pushing down to silence you in anticipation of what comes next, before he pushes his entire cock inside. You let out a muffled scream as you feel him throbbing and pulsating within you. Your face is flush red with an embarrassing yet satisfying warmth as he starts slowly thrusting. True to his word, he’s taking it slow as you accommodate to the new feelings.

But as you finally settle into a rhythm and even start pushing your body back against him in time with his thrusts, John pulls your other leg up and positions them both on his shoulder, then grabs your hip, pulling you closer, so he can thrust deeper and harder. You close your eyes and concentrate on the confused feelings of pleasure you’re getting from the degrading experience of being what amounts to a fuck doll for this brute of a man. After a while, he speeds up, pumping furiously into you. You know it will be over in moments. Exhausted, you gasp at the inevitable, and John lets out a guttural moan as he spills his filthy man-seed inside your sissy hole. Your body convulses under the force of his climax, and the feeling is absolutely exquisite. His weights shifts further onto you, forcing you to bend your legs up so they’re almost touching your head.

The deed over, you close your eyes. You’re violated and exhausted, mentally and physically, and begin to drift asleep, as you faintly feel John get up, whisper “you can sleep alone tonight”, before hearing the door click and a lock turn.