Shrinky Dink Sissy
When Sheila discovers her infertile and "shrinky dink dick" husband will never give her the children she wants, she and her husband's best friend conspire to use BDSM methods of humiliation to turn him into the true sissy boy he was meant to be. Sheila then demonstrates for the new sissy boy how a real woman makes love with a real man, as he is forced to watch them. (An adults only story of Sissy Boy Sex, Feminization, Cross-Dressing, Sissification, Cuckolding, BDSM Humiliation, CBT, penetrative sex, and more!)
“I told you that you were shooting blanks,” she said flatly.
“About 20% of American males are,” Dr. Williamson told his tablet. All I could focus on was the judgment in Sheila’s voice.
“You make me wish I had more middle fingers,” she said as she slammed the car door as she got in.
I had always figured we’d have kids by now. I had all sorts of plans of teaching Junior to pitch, or watching my little girl grow up. Now there was just Mama Drama on the ride home to where the nursery we had added on when we were newlyweds would continue to be used as Sheila’s office. Ben, my best friend, was there now, putting final touches on the Events Planning business they ran. They had yet another wedding on the books. I wondered if that wedding would be more productive than mine.
Sheila ignored me and walked to her office to tell Ben the news. I came up behind her and started to say how I felt. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, “did the middle of my sentence interrupt the beginning of yours?”
“Hey, man,” Ben put his hand on my shoulder. “Bummer, dude.” Ben just had to look at a woman for her to get pregnant. I had lost count of how many kids he had fathered, both in and out of his three marriages. It seemed so unfair my own baby custard had dried up.
Sheila pulled his attention back to the Steinberg wedding and it was as if I no longer existed. I poured myself a glass of vodka and added some ice and walked out into the back yard. I gulped it down and sat down, feeling sorry for myself. By the third glass I wasn’t thinking of much anymore, especially about not having kids.
I came to in the guest bedroom. This was hardly the first time I didn’t remember how I ended up where I was waking up. My first thought was Sheila had probably locked the door to our bedroom because she was still pissed at me. My second thought was, “Wait, how did I get tied up?” I pulled at the ropes I realized were around my wrists and my ankles. God, it felt like a macramé artist had exploded on top of me.
“He’s awake,” I heard Ben’s voice from just outside the door.
“About fucking time,” Sheila said. She came in carrying a large box. “I’m so tired of having to deal with your useless ass,” she yelled at me. “I’m tired of you getting so drunk you end up thinking doing it doggy style means you roll over and play dead. Now that it’s official you aren’t man enough to father kids, I’ve decided there are going to be some major changes.”
The only thing I was wearing besides the ropes was my boxers. She reached into her box and pulled out an enormous pair of scissors. I watched with horror as she brought them near my crotch, but she just used them to cut off my boxers, leaving me exposed.
Ben looked at what I had been packing and snickered. “Hey, Ben,” she said, “do you know what you call this useless piece of skin attached to the penis?” She paused for a moment and said, “My husband.” She indicated to Ben to help her unzip her dress. It spilled around her feet and she stepped out of it. She was already barefoot and stood there in her bra and lace panties. “Hey, Ben,” she continued. “Look at what so many men would kill for and look what I ended up with.” She turned to face him. “Get down on your knees and push your face into my panties and tell my dickless wonder here what it is you smell.”
About Skye Eagleday
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Published April 29, 2013
by Skye Eagleday.
Erotica, Literature & Fiction.