TO-DO LIST FOR TWO SISSIES by Throne (Patreon)

TO-DO LIST FOR TWO SISSIES

 by Throne

"I'll explain it to you in simple terms that even a sissy like you can understand, Fawn."  Dita kept her eyes on the road as she spoke.  "You still can't get the hang of housecleaning, so I'm teaming you up with another girly-boy, in the hope that you might learn something."

Her husband Frank, in the passenger seat, crossed his arms over his chest, as if he was afraid the long coat he wore might come open and reveal what was underneath.  Remembering to make his voice simpering, he said, "But I don't want to be seen by anybody else.  Not like this."

"Why not?  The wimp you're going to meet is just as emasculated as you are.  Maybe more," she added, and laughed.  "We're going to be there very soon, to meet him and his wife.  I hope you won't embarrass me."

Realizing the uselessness of objecting anymore, he hung his head and told her, "Yes, dear.  I'm sorry I said anything."

"That's the defeated tone I like to hear.   Now sit up straight and demonstrate how proud you are to be such a pansy."

He reluctantly brought his head back up and squared his narrow shoulders.  Frank's auburn hair was collar-length and, at the moment, teased up and sprayed to keep it that way.  His wife had overseen him as he put on foundation, mascara, eye shadow, rouge and dark lipstick.  He felt sure that every other driver near them noticed him and knew he was a guy.  It made him so uncomfortable that it was a relief to reach their destination.  Well, almost a relief, as he would now be facing strangers and a new, unwelcome situation.  Dita pulled into the driveway and got out.  He opened his door and, checking to see that there was no one nearby, left the car.  Frank's legs were in shiny stockings, and he had low pumps on his feet.  This was all so humiliating.

At the front door they were greeted by a guy in a full French maid outfit, complete with fishnet stockings.  He appeared as unhappy with his look as Frank.

"Hello," he said, his voice wispy.  "I'm Doe.  Please come in.  My wife... I mean Mistress Carlene... is waiting for you."

Dita gave him a closer look as she entered.  His golden hair was the same length as Frank's but had been put into a mass of tight curls.  He worked from home and was kept in drag all the time he was there.  Dita was already in contact with Frank's boss, and halfway to putting him in the same situation, though he wasn't aware of it yet.  This change was being facilitated by the fact that Dita was secretly dating the man who ran Frank's workplace.  She had gotten that idea from Carlene, who had done the same thing with her spouse's boss.  The women had been in touch for several months.  In fact, it was Carlene who had suggested Frank's female name.  The two wives agreed that it would be humorous to have the guys named Fawn and Doe, especially when they got them together.

Carlene came to greet her visitors.  She was tall and had a curvy figure, like Dita.  As the new arrivals took off their coats, the others got to see what they wore.  Frank had on a cropped top and panties, along with the stockings and pumps.  Everything was in pink.  Across the front of the covering on his flat chest, was printed in cursive, KISSY SISSY.  He was visibly shamed by his appearance.  Carlene and Dita both had on stylish blouses and skirts, along with high heels.

"I'm so glad we're finally getting to visit you at home," Dita said with a smile.  "And meeting Doe."

"Yes," Carlene said.  "Doe, formerly Dave.  I like him so much better this way.  And he's getting to be quite the competent housecleaner."  She asked her husband, "Isn't that true, dear?"

"Yes, Mistress."  The words were whispered.

"Well, I hope my Fawn picks up some good habits from her."

"I've made up a list of what they have to do.  It's all on Doe's laptop.  I explained to her that she can only open the instructions one at a time.  You know how easily a sissy can get distracted, if you give her too much information, all at once."

"That's so true.  My Doe is in a constant state of confusion.  Maybe this afternoon will teach her to be more organized.  Or at least to follow orders better."

"While we're out shopping and having lunch, these two girls will have a chance to prove themselves.  If they don't get it right, naturally there will be some punishment time after we get back."  She eyed one cowering sissy and then the other.  "Is that understood, ladies?"

"Yes, Mistress," Dave said meekly.

"Yes, Ma'am," Frank told her with proper deference.

"Then us real females will go and enjoy ourselves," Carlene declared.  "You two fake femmes can get started right away.  Everything you need to know will be included in the To-Do List I created.    Give each other a hug, just to get acquainted, before we leave.  Go on.  Don't be shy."

The husbands cringed at what they were expected to do.  Turning toward each other, they hesitated, bringing up their arms but not quite being prepared to touch.  Carlene made an impatient throat-clearing sound.  The sissies stepped forward, both at the same time, bumped into each other, and drew back awkwardly.  Under the critical eyes of both wives, they tried again, joining together in a weak embrace.

"Get closer," Dita instructed.  "Put your chins on each other's shoulders."

They did it, both of them blushing visibly.  The women enjoyed a laugh at their discomfort.  Only after they had mortified the guys did they leave.  As the door closed, the husbands separated.  They tried not to make eye contact.

Dave said, "We'd better get busy.  I'm sure Carlene left us more than enough to do."

"I guess it will just be basic chores," Frank said hopefully.

"If we're lucky, it will.  But she has a wicked imagination.  That's why we're only allowed to view one item at a time, so we can be anxious about what else might be waiting for us.  My laptop is on the breakfast bar in the kitchen."

As they walked through the house, Frank couldn't miss Dave's mincing way of moving, the same as Frank had been forced to adopt.  He also saw how the bottoms of the sissy maid's butt cheeks peeked out from under his skirt, it was so short.  Dave turned on the laptop and found the list.  The first order was for him to go to his 'special page' and for both of them to give 'today's new friend' a kiss.  He was unmistakably ill at ease with whatever that meant.  Frank saw why, as soon as he reached the page.  Written across the top of the screen in large letters were the words GOOD MORNING.  Directly below them was a close-up photo of some man's cock, which was long and thick, with veins standing out on the surface of that meaty length.  Obviously, this was a familiar act for Dave.  He leaned over and pressed his lips to the end of the impressive organ, leaving a lipstick print.  Then he angled the laptop so Frank could do the same.

Keeping his voice soft, Dave said, "Here you go, Fawn."

As much as he didn't want to, Frank also bent down, to add a second, darker outline of lips, right on the fat head of that cock shot.  He couldn't believe how demeaning it was.

Dave told him, sotto voce, "There's a camera in the laptop, and our wives might be watching us right now.  We have to be very careful not to disobey any of what they tell us to do or show a bad attitude."

He moved on to the next instruction.  It said for them to go to the bedroom, with the laptop, and change each other into their 'work clothes'.

Frank turned helplessly to Dave.  "I've never had to, you know, do anything like that before.  I haven't even been with another guy who's... like me."

"Same here.  We'll just have to get through this the best we can."

When they reached the bedroom, there were two sets of clothes laid out, with notes indicating which was for who.  Mauve for Frank and lavender for Dave.  The sissies just stood there and stared for a minute.  Dave set the laptop on the dresser, from where they assumed the camera would be able to view their efforts.  The problem was that the clothes, two sets of a sleeveless top and short shorts, were made of some sort of thin rubber.  It might be latex, but they weren't sure.  What they were sure about was that the clothes were small and would be tricky to put on.  Worse, the message had specified that they were to change each other.  Undressing someone else would be bad enough but trying to get him into those undersized garments would be terrible.  They exchanged distressed expressions and then unhappily went to work.

Dave pulled Frank's top up and over his head.  He saw that the other husband's chest, like his own, was devoid of hair.  Then Frank undid the buttons on the upper portion of Dave's maid outfit.  Next, they took turns sitting on the edge of the bed so their shoes and stockings could be removed.  That brought them to the most uncomfortable part of the job, Frank's panties and Dave's skirt and whatever was underneath.  They each knelt in front of the other to delicately perform those unwanted tasks.  It was no surprise that they were hairless there, as well.  Under his skirt, Dave had on a thong.  When they were both naked, they couldn't miss the fact that neither of them was well hung.  Having their genitals so smooth made them appear even smaller.

Dave said, "Why don't I try getting you into your shorts?"  He took a quick nervous look at the laptop.

"Okay," said Frank, hugging himself and shuffling his feet.

Dave took the shorts and knelt.  As he held them out, Frank put one foot through a leg hole and then stepped into the other.  His fellow sissy worked them up his satiny legs and tried to tug them the rest of the way.  Unfortunately for both of them, the waistband couldn't go over Frank's bottom.  Dave had to stretch the material before he could finally get them to waist level.  Frank was relieved to have his privates covered but shaken up from the process.  Then it was his turn to get Dave into the other shorts.  He raised them to knee height before Dave lost his balance and fell forward.  Frank caught him but then went over backward.  He was on his back, with Dave on top of him.  Both sissies panicked at the sudden, full-body contact.  They threw themselves around, trying to get untangled.  When they came apart, both of them had red faces.  Getting unsteadily to their feet, they tried again.  Frank was disturbed that, when he was down on one knee, his face was level with Dave's uncovered male parts.  After more effort, they were both clothed from their waists to the tops of their thighs.  The snug shorts pressed their genitals so tightly that it was almost like they had nothing down there.

The shirts required even more effort to get put on.  They ended at mid-chest and left the husbands' bellies bare.  As if that wasn't bad enough, there were also cut-outs that exposed their nipples.  By the end, both men were close to tears.

Dave shakily went to the next instruction on his laptop.  He said, "Oh, no.  We have to clean the entire bathroom, with the camera on the lid of the hamper.  If they're watching, they'll see us bending and stretching in this awful rubber underwear."  The rubber clad speaker shook his head.  "Plus, we have to finger each other's nipples.  It says that's to keep up our energy."  The two guys reached toward each other and teased the uncovered nipples.  Soon they were both panting.  The tight shorts made it impossible to get properly hard.  Dave said, "I'm sorry to be touching you this way.  And I don't mean to let myself get so... so... excited."  He sniffled loudly.

Frank found Dave's upset contagious.  He began to sob and couldn't stop, no matter how hard he tried.  The guys were aware of what a foolish sight they made, dressed in those revealing items and sounding like a couple of stressed schoolgirls, even as they were toying with the now stiff nipples.  Their distress fed on itself and they both began to cry, while still kept breathing hard.  Despite all that, the work had to be done.  They discontinued their touching.  Dave took a basket of cleaning supplies from the cabinet under the sink.  He gave Frank a big sponge and a plastic spray bottle of cleanser, telling him he should start on the tub enclosure.  For himself, Dave grabbed a brush with a long handle and a squeeze bottle of liquid cleaner.  He knelt and went to work on the toilet bowl.  Both guys could picture their wives watching them, via the laptop camera.  Perhaps the women were at lunch, enjoying a nice meal while giggling at the antics of the busy sissies.  Their phones might be propped up against the table's centerpiece, as they observed their husbands laboring like a couple of cleaning women.

The guys finished those jobs and then did the walls and floor, as well as the sink.  By the time they got done, both of them were perspiring.  They put away everything they had been using.  It was time for the next instruction.  It told them to go to the kitchen and find the food waiting for them in the fridge.  Then they were to sit on opposite sides of the breakfast bar, with the laptop at one end, and feed each other.  Even before they got to that room, they were picturing the sight they would make.  What they found waiting for them, in lidded plastic containers, was servings of pureed vegetables, heavy on the Brussels sprouts and asparagus, topped with pearl onions.  There was also a note telling them to find something else to wear in one of the kitchen drawers.  It turned out to be bibs, big colorful ones decorated with cartoon animals.  They knew without being told that they were expected to put them on each other.  The bibs were accompanied by infant-sized feeding spoons.  Then they sat down and opened their containers.  Getting as much as they could on those small utensils, they took turns putting the cold unappetizing food past their sissy sister's lips.  Doing it was mortifying and the taste had them making faces with each mouthful.  Because the spoons were tiny and the containers large, it took a long time before they were done.  Dave put everything in the sink, making a mental note to wash it all later.

By then they were dreading the revelation of each new order.  What would the computer screen tell them to do this time?  Could it be more demeaning than what they'd already been made to do?  When they saw what it was, their eyes went wide, and that question was answered in the affirmative.

It said, GO TO THE BEDROOM AND FIND SOME SWEET SISSY SOMETHINGS TO DRESS YOUR SISSY PARTNER IN.  LOOK UNDER THE PILLOWS.  YOU CAN PICK WHO GETS WHICH ONE.  KISSES, CARLENE AND DITA.

Feeling queasy from the unpleasant feeding and this unsettling command, the guys did as they were told.  With the laptop back on the dresser, Dave reached under the nearest pillow.  What he took out were two baby doll nighties, with no accompanying panties.  He double-checked to see if there might be those undergarments to accompany them but had no luck.   He held up one of the filmy bits of sleepwear in front of himself.  Frank could see that they would barely cover their hairless crotches.  Now the guys had to go through the process they had when getting the rubber garments on, but in reverse.  Because they had sweated, it was even more trying.  If only they had used some powder before donning them.  Instead, they struggled to get them off, touching more skin than they wished.  At last, they got each other naked.  They smelled their perspiration, mixed with the girly scents their wives had made them apply.  Each one put a nightie on the other, pulling it down and smoothing it out.  Frank's baby doll had bows at the neck, while Dave's featured them all the way around the hem.  Wearing those bedroom fashions, they felt more sissy-like than ever.  Their lips were quivering from deep unshakable shame.

Fearing the worst, Dave moved to the next instruction.  It told them to GET ONTO THE BED TOGETHER.  ADDRESS EACH OTHER ONLY BY YOUR PRETTY SISSY NAMES.  DEMONSTRATE HOW TWO GIRLY-GUYS LIKE YOU MAKE OUT, WITH LOTS OF KISSING AND TOUCHING.  IT BETTER BE GOOD, OR THERE WILL BE SPANKINGS -- AND MORE!

Trembling from reluctance, they pulled back the bedspread and got on the sheets.  At first, they couldn't figure where to put their hands.  They settled on lying face-to-face and holding each other's shoulders.

Frank forced himself to say, "You look lovely, Doe."

Dave responded with, "So do you, Fawn."

The last thing they wanted to do was exchange kisses.  Frank and Dave considered themselves to be straight.  They had hot wives.  True, they weren't permitted to have intercourse with them.  Their love lives consisted of dressing like sexy girls and playing the roles eager-to-please lesbians, giving their wives endless oral attention.  The women got all the orgasms they could wish for, and the men got none in return.  The best they could hope for was to be dressed up in one of their special 'sissy playtime' outfits and be allowed to handle their little dicks.  Sometimes they were even granted permission to finish.  They never knew whether those sessions would end in frustration or satisfaction.  The pleasure of ejaculating was undercut by having to squirt their messes onto the palms of their hands and then lick them up.  Or they might be made to do it on a few low-sodium saltines and then slowly eat them, while smiling, licking their lips, and saying thanks over and over.

What they had to wear during those shameful acts is worth special mention.  The wives had similar tastes in masturbatory fashions.  They liked their sissies in something especially slutty, that suggested they were whores who had been paid to jerk off clients, except that the men played both parts.  It was so ego-crushing to have to put on clinging tops that emphasized their lack of breasts, micro-miniskirts with nothing under them, to give easy access to their penises, and outlandish hooker heels that they could barely stand up in, let alone take more than a few unsteady steps while wearing.  The wives liked to make them dress on one side of a room and then hobble clumsily to the other side, before they got to tug themselves, either to completion or only until they had assured themselves a set of blue balls.  The sissies mostly ended up on their backs, to assure that they would shoot all over their bellies.  After that, they had to wipe up the cum with their fingers and lick them clean.  Neither husband could remember the last time they had really enjoyed an ejaculation.

This however, having to both get into bed, took it to a new level of disgrace.  They moved their faces nearer to making contact and then, hating what they were doing, pressed their lips together.  Dave put his hands on the sides of Frank's face.  The script they followed began to write itself.  With failing self-control, Frank was suddenly nibbling on his bed partner's neck.  Dave gasped, pulled free, and got his tongue on and in Frank's ear.  All at once they were going at it like a couple of frenzied teenagers on a date.  Their hands went up under each other's nighties to return to stimulating receptive nipples.  There was another lip-lock, this one involving lots of tongue action.  Their faces drew back enough that, if the camera was catching everything, their tongues would be visible twisting together.

Frank got on top.  They rolled to the side.  Dave took the upper position.  Abruptly, they froze.  From there, they moved apart, to the sides of the bed.

"I didn't mean to do that," Dave apologized.

"I don't know what got into me," Frank told him.

"It was just..." he said breathily.

"From before, when they had me with my fingers on your chest... and you with yours on mine..."  His breathing was gradually slowing down.

They became aware, simultaneously, that they had straining erections.  Dave clapped a hand over his.  Frank tucked his back between his thighs and clamped his legs together.  Despite the cosmetics they wore, their faces turned bright pink.

After a moment Dave said, in a small voice, "We might have a problem, Fawn."

"What do you mean, Doe?"  He sounded equally effeminate.

"Remember what the last instruction was?  We should still be... you know... doing stuff."

"Oh.  Yes.  Or else we'll be punished."

It was like they were straining against invisible bonds, as they slowly moved closer together.  Then there were some chaste kisses, which gradually grew warmer.  Hands explored, finding little interference from the thin nighties.  Frank's small but very stiff dick popped free.  Whimpering with shame but aflame with desire, they found themselves doing things straight men don't do.  They ran their fingers over bare male skin, gave hard love bites that left marks on necks, gripped silky bottoms, and each had their legs scissoring one of the other's thighs.

"Fawn," said Dave between deep breaths.  "Our wives will be terribly hard on us, if we don't... you know."

"You mean...?"  Frank's hand was under the other sissy's nightie, groping for the nearest nipple.  "Go further?"  He mewled.  "All the way?"

"All the way like sissies do."

"With our... mouths?"

"Using them you-know where?"

"Yes."  There was a shuddering intake of oxygen.  "We don't have a choice."

"That's true.  We don't want to."

"But it's not up to us."

Seconds later they were squirming themselves around, until they were facing in opposite directions, toward headboard and footboard.  Nighties were pushed up and mouths fastened on yearning nipples.  The sucking sounds and answering moans were unmistakable sounds of passion.  The sissies would not be able to lie to themselves, later, about what had occurred while in their overheated state.  With abandoned lust they moved from nipples to tummies and then lower.  Before they fully knew what they were doing, each one had a hard, though smaller than average, dick in their willing mouth.  They licked and sucked and swirled.  There was frenzied ball lapping.  Fingers snuck between buttocks for extra erogenous-zone activity.  They sounded like what they were, two sissies in the throes of a wild sexual exchange.

Unexpectedly, Carlene's voice said, "Look what happens when we leave you two alone together."

Dita added, "I don't recall leaving instructions for you pansies to trade blowjobs."

The guys looked confusedly at the laptop on the dresser.  They didn't think it had a speaker.  As their wives entered the room, they understood that it was the women speaking in person.  The guys were instantly wracked with shame.  The ended up on their sides, those incriminating stiff dicks on display.

"It's not what it looks like," Dave said disingenuously.

"We never intended to go that far," Frank said, more accurately.

"Well," Dita considered, "it's not exactly like you're discussing the last book you read."

Carline offered, "Unless it's title was Steamy Fairy Sex Games."

"You just earned some punishment for lying to us," Dita advised them.

"But it will be less intense if you finish what you started," Carline concluded with a nasty grin.

"Do that for us and you'll only get half as many spanks."

"And don't swallow right away."  Carline took out her phone.  "I want to get some close-ups of your tongues, covered in cream."

The guys were in a dither.  Even so, their thinking was clear enough to tell them that they were going to be made to do the deed until its end, no matter what.  The difference was that, if they got right back to it, their fannies would suffer less.  Under the amused eyes of their spouses, they fitted their mouths back over the waiting dicks and resumed sucking.  It didn't take long before their sexual temperatures were once more elevated.  There was some grunting, a few choking sounds as gag reflexes were activated, and then rising noises that indicated two pairs of balls were about to lose their contents.  Both sets of hips jerked.  Inarticulate sounds came from rapidly filling mouths.  Saliva joined semen and cheeks swelled.  The guys, their faces made over by smeared lipstick, running mascara, and humiliation, raised their heads.  Mouths popped open to show the proof that messes had been spurted onto waiting tongues.  Pictures were taken.  The laptop was picked up and brought closer, to capture their mortified visages.

"Now show some gratitude," Carline told them.

"With big sloppy kisses," Dita specified.

Beyond salvaging their masculinity, the sissies shared a cream-filled kiss.  It went on and on, while the wives exchanged grins of triumph.  They had taken their hapless husbands down to a new level of sissy behavior.  There would be no turning back.  The only way to go was forward.  Carline and Dita were already imagining where that would lead.

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