Slavegirl Sissy - femdom

Happpy Birthdayversary! (decadance ensues)

nospam@example.com (Erisiana Cherie) — Sat, 18 Feb 2012 06:14:15 -0700

By now I was feeling quite exhausted. I’d been up for a full 24 hours and spent a good bit of that time engaged in {ahem} vigorous activity. He peered around, blinking, trying to clear vision dulled from having been blindfolded for hours; I pulled him against me and we collapsed together on the sofa.

For all the kinky, raunchy things we do I think one of the most important things tia and I give to each other is the simple joy of snuggling. Lying in each other’s arms, bodies pressed together. Stroking his springy curls and marveling at the way he feels curled against me, so sweet and tender and somehow, at least to my Mistress-ly psyche, submissive. Like he’s completely surrendered to me and found utter peace in doing so. After the very thorough fucking of his mind & body that’d been going on this night it was obvious that he was floating in bliss. Maybe he wasn’t even aware of the way he continued gently humping against my leg, his frustrated winkie desperately trying for some satisfaction. But I noticed his lust-driven motions. And seeing how thrillingly aroused he was, how lost in ecstasy after all the nasty things I’d been doing to him, got me going once again.

After a little while I impulsively pushed him down on the mat once more and climbed on top of him. Reaching into my nearby dildo case I pulled out a condom and a couple of mini clothespins. I rolled the condom over his erection and slid down onto it, taking it easily inside myself. Then I leaned forward and clipped a pin to each nipple. From his reaction I guessed that the pinch of these was much more bearable – and pleasurable – than the full size variety. Which only encouraged me to play with them more, and harder.

I twisted the pins and flicked them with my fingers. I lightly slapped them. I grabbed them, pulling them farther and farther away from his body until his nipples were painfully stretched. And then I really started to move, riding him harder and harder, stretching those nipples out more and more with every thrust. My powerful humping made his body slide around under me; I viciously pulled his nipples out even further, holding them in place above his chest as if I were trying to use them as tiny anchors.
Poor thing; I guess it’s nothing to be wondered at if his little cockette started to wilt from all that, ah, stimulation.

But once again the feeling of taking him sadistically, without regard for his pleasure, of raping him, had got me REALLY excited. I wanted another orgasm, the full-strength clitoral kind. He gasped as I abruptly hopped off, then whined at the torture of cold air where seconds ago there had been slippery wet heat engulfing him. I tugged his leash as I swung around to sit on the sofa, making him scramble to his knees and crawl hesitantly toward me. “Get your face over here slave.” I ordered, patting my shaved pussy lips. “I want you to lick me.”

This time his moans were muffled by the folds of my cunt as he obediently nuzzled up to my crotch and started licking. He ran his tongue up and down the full length of my slit, which he knows I like, and sucked gently on my outer labia. I closed my eyes and lay back, savoring the sensations. But it wasn’t quite what I wanted; so after two or three minutes I pushed his head down and amended my order: “Lick my hole slut.”

From the way he groaned I guess he found my order especially humiliating. I found it delicious, feeling that tongue alternately darting into my hole and delicately lapping at the outer rim of my vagina I slipped a finger down and began rubbing my clit again. I took my time this time, or at least I tried to. I held off from coming for a while anyway, floating in a cloud of ecstatic sensation. When I finally let go, allowing the waves of orgasm to crash over me, I bucked so hard againsthim it’s a wonder I didn’t give him a bloody nose.

Once the waves of pleasure had dissipated I had to take a nap. I ordered tia to curl up on the floor next to the sofa, spread a coverlet over him and settled myself down on the sofa. I dozed for an hour or so, enough to get my second wind, and then seeing it was after ten I decided it was time to put the next part of my plan in motion. This part required that tia be left in bondage while I went out for a while. So I ran a heavy chain through the d-rings on his shackles, around the leg of the sofa, and fastened it with a padlock. Another length of chain for his ankles and I was confident that the illusion of inescapable bondage was complete. (It was only an illusion of course; should there be a real emergency he could have unfastened the shackles with very little effort.) I stood over him, legs apart, and informed him that I was leaving for a while, and he better not try to get away while I was gone. Giving him a little kick in the flank I turned, snatched up my purse, and strode out the door.

My errand was fetching a large quantity of barbeque, tia’s favorite food. So when I returned about 30 minutes later I left the bags in the van so the smell wouldn’t give me away. As soon as I got in I fed him another allergy pill, awkwardly holding the glass so he could sip some water while still chained to the sofa. I doubt he stayed hard the entire time I was gone, but his cockette was fully erect and glistening with pre-cum when I got around to noticing it now. So I decided it was time to let my sissy slave have a nice orgasm of his own…but only in a very sissy fashion of course.

I’d taken a few minutes before I left to wash the toys, so now I stood and went to the kitchen to retrieve my strap-on. I stripped to my bra and panties and wiggled back into the leather harness, with the purple vibrating dildo in place. Returning to the living room I unchained tia from the sofa. Now he was lying on his back; I squirted a glob of lube on the head of my cock, lifted his legs, and took aim at his already well-fucked hole. Leaning into him I let my own body weight force my cock deep inside, until my pelvis rested against the curve of his ass. And then I began to fuck him with slow, deep thrusts. I started out softly, lying on top of him, kissing and stroking him like a gentle lover. But soon I sat back on my haunches, pushing his legs against his chest and reaming him.

“Touch yourself slut,” I ordered. “I want to see you wanking that little cockette for me.” He moaned and obediently reached down to wrap his huge hand around his tiny dick. I love to tease him about how small his penis is, how insignificant it is to me. But in actual fact it’s a perfectly normal 5.75”. It LOOKS really small when he’s holding it though; his hands are so large they dwarf it. And I’m not sure why this sight – of his big long fingers wrapped around his delicate dicklet – gets me so hot, but it does. Maybe I get a thrill from seeing my verbal humiliations brought visually to life.

My growing excitement shows in my words; as he tugs on his joystick I spew a stream of obscenities, telling him how he belongs to me, how he’s nothing but a fucktoy, a piece of meat for my pleasure, a collection of holes for me to rape and plunder. His arousal is obvious in his grunts, whimpers and moans, but I can also tell he’s holding back. He knows better than to cum without permission…and he’s also inhibited by that streak of fastidiousness that I so love to violate. He would want to cum in a condom, or a tissue, or anywhere else but all over himself, making a sticky mess. So naturally that’s what I want him to do.

I push his hand away and grab hold of that pretty phallus myself. Jerking my hand up and down the curved shaft I growl “I want you to cum for me slut, just like this. Cum with your ass stuffed full of my big dick and your little cockette in my hand where it belongs. Shoot your sissy cream all over your belly and make a big icky mess for me. Cum for me NOW slave, and show me what a well-trained ass whore you really are.” Groaning helplessly, with his eyes rolled back in his head, he did just that.

His cum spurted out over my fingers and onto his tummy, rivulets of sperm trickling down to fill his bellybutton. I kept squeezing his cockette until it ceased to twitch, coaxing every last dribble out of it. Then I dipped two fingers into the viscous mess on his belly, scooping up as much of it as I could, and cheerfully ordered “Now open up slut! You know the rule: when sissy cums, sissy eats it! And lucky you,” I continued as he slurped the goo off my fingers, “today you get to taste it fresh without that nasty condom flavor.” He moaned as I dipped my fingers in the puddle of cum again, collecting another glob of slimy jizz and feeding it to him. I continued scooping it up and feeding it to him until I couldn’t get any more off him. And then I wiped my fingers on his belly and face, smearing the remains of his orgasm all over him.

He was still shuddering, deep down the rabbit hole of sexual degradation, when I finally pulled my cock out of him and clambered to my feet. Looming over him I reached out one foot to fondle and mash his wilted member. “Awww my little sissy, look at you” I gushed sweetly, “that’s exactly how a slut like you should look: well fucked and covered in cum.” I gave a final stomp, squashing his genitals under my bare foot, before turning away to wiggle out of my harness once more.

When I turned back I saw that he was sitting up and scrubbing at his semen-stained face with his hands. “Stop that slut!” I barked, reaching for my crop and dealing out a slash on his shoulder with it. “Stupid whore, if I wanted you to clean that off I’d have told you to! You’re nothing but a cumbucket now and you better get used to wearing it.”

Giving him a second sharp whack I bent to retrieve a small black case from the side pocket of a duffel bag. “And here’s another thing you’ll have to get used to wearing slave.” I chortled, spilling the clear plastic bits of his chastity cage out on the sofa. I tugged the leash to get him up on his knees and facing me, then began the finicky process of locking him into it. First the ring around the back, behind the balls, then the bit that closes the ring and holds it in place. Next the ribbon tied painfully tight just below the glans and used to pull the penis down into the shaft of the cock-cage. The happy second of snapping the lock closed followed by the painful moments of pulling and prying to loosen the ribbon and free it from the cage. When he was finally secured in it I gave the device a few smacks, making it clatter and bounce from side to side as I reminded him “There now, that’s safely locked away. Because nobody is interested in using that silly little thing, are they slut? Except to torture and control you with.” Grinning evilly, I slipped on my tshirt and yoga pants then sauntered outside to collect the barbeque.

He must have had an inkling of what was to come as soon as the smoky sweet aroma hit him. But he cannot have anticipated me strolling in with a dog dish in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. I perched on the sofa and plonked the double dish down on the floor in front of him. One side of the dish was piled high with savory ribs and chicken wings, liberally slathered with his favorite sauce. I popped open the top of the beer and, pouring it into the other side of the dish I declared “NOW I have crossed the line into complete decadence!”

to be continued..

Happy Birthdayversary! (breaking him in)

nospam@example.com (Erisiana Cherie) — Sun, 12 Feb 2012 08:31:05 -0700

After having spent the day preparing I found it hard to relax. I suddenly got nervous; what if something went horribly awry? I tried to grab some sleep but gave up after about an hour and decided instead to shower, then head over to make my final preparations. Finally everything was in order and I returned home to collect my accomplice. We made our way to tia's house where Izzy was to take away our car while I took tia's. I'm still very amused by the thought that I stole his car to kidnap him in.

At long last I crept into his room, plastic knife in one hand, dirty panties and vet wrap in the other. Climbing on top of his sleeping form I growled “do as you’re told and you won’t get hurt bitch” as I pressed the knife to his throat. I shoved the panties into his mouth and wrapped the vet wrap a few times around his head, over his mouth, to hold them in place. A few more wraps around his eyes, then I rolled him over and wrapped the last 1/3 of the roll around his wrists, binding them tightly behind his back.

With Izzy on one side and me on the other we led him out to the van. Barefoot, blindfolded, bound and gagged, and wearing nothing but the girly tshirt and sheer ruffled panties I’d ordered him to put on earlier. Though he was clearly still groggy from sleep I could also see him trembling in blissful anticipation already. It must have been an exquisite torture being led outside, practically naked but still feminized, with his slave role so blatantly on display, right out where all his neighbors (for all he knew) could see him! And with the knowledge in his mind that wherever I was taking him, whatever I was doing with him – he would be trapped there and at my mercy, with no id, no money, not even a pair of pants to get home in.

We pushed him into the back of the van and shut the door, then I gave Izzy a quick kiss goodbye and got in. I drove away from our destination at first, keeping a careful eye on the clock and a careful ear out for my captive in the back of the van. After about ten minutes I turned and headed back to sandpit manor. I reckoned that would surely confuse him about where I’d taken him. The drive was thankfully uneventful (I remember him farting, and me giggling about it) and when we arrived I backed carefully into the drive, all the way up into the carport so that our doings would be obscured by the house, the high fence, and the van itself as well as by the darkness. I waited til the interior vehicle lights had gone out before I opened the rear hatch to let him out. His steps were hesitant but he did not stumble as I guided him across the leaf-littered drive and up the steps into the house.

I’d laid everything out beforehand so when we got there all I had to do was push him down onto the waiting mat and get down to my dirty business. First I wanted to make sure his allergies didn’t interfere with my plans. I dashed into the kitchen and retrieved a glass of water and a shot of Irish Crème liquor. Then back out to where I’d left him bound and helpless on the floor. I grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him up on his knees, then unwrapped the panty-gag from around his head. “How did you like the taste of those, slave? I wore them for two days so they would be nice and filthy for you. Here,” I continued, arranging the panties so the saliva-wet crotch covered his nose, “since I went to all that trouble let’s just keep them on you so you can continue enjoying Mistress’s lovely scent.” He whimpered and shivered in response.

After securing my panties around his head I popped the allergy pill out of its wrapper. Of course HE didn’t know what kind of pill it was as I held it to his lips and ordered “Swallow this bitch”. When he accepted the pill I gave him a sip of water to wash it down, and followed it with the shot glass: “And this too. ALL of it bitch. That should keep you nice and compliant.” I cackled as I pushed his head back to the floor. Let him think I’d given him hormones, or a tranquilizer, or whatever other possibility his fertile imagination supplied. I was confident the pill plus the shot would be enough to soundly push the ‘drugged into helplessness’ fantasy button.

Next I finally undid his hands and, while he groaned and shook the kinks out quickly shimmied into my waiting strapon harness. I grabbed his collar and leash and the red suede shackles and knelt beside him again. As I secured the collar around his neck I calmly stated “you notice I’m not asking if you want this. You’re mine now whether you like it or not, and I WILL do as I like with you.” He trembled again, and I continued, clipping on the leash and securely fastening the shackles around his wrists and ankles. “Now I want you on all fours slave” I barked, smacking him again with my crop, “like the bitch in heat that you are.” I squatted down, perching on the small of his back. Stroking his ass in his pretty polka-dot panties, I outlined what was happening to him: “you’re my sissy whore now, and I’m gonna break you in real good before I start renting this sweet sissy ass out. Gonna make sure you get plenty of practice fucking and sucking so you’ll be able to take it like a pro when I start sending johns to you. You feel that?” rubbing my dildo along his buttcrack “You’ll be feeling every inch of it real soon.”

I stood and administered a couple more whacks along with another warning to do as he was told, then crouched down beside his head. His lips parted obediently as soon as I brushed them with my plastic penis and I slid right inside that warm wet hole but I whacked him a few more times with the crop anyway, warning “I’d better not feel any TEETH, lazy bitch” He moaned and sucked me deeper into his hungry mouth. I held his head with one hand twined in his hair and the other at his jaw, admiring the way it looked to stuff his pretty mouth full. And of course telling him all about how pretty he looked and what a good sissy cocksucker I expected him to be, what a fine addition to my stable of whores.

After a few minutes I announced that he’d sucked my dick enough to get me good and hard, and moved around behind him. I pulled down his panties and planted a kiss on the soft white roundness of his ass then straightened up and began rubbing my cock in his crack. Saying “see how hard you’ve got me bitch? How excited I am at the thought of raping you?” I squirted a glob of lube onto the shiny purple head of my cock then rubbed it around his tight rosebud. As I pushed it in I could feel his asshole twitching around it. He moaned then gasped in pain. I pulled out, added some more lube, and pushed back in several times until I felt he’d relaxed enough to accept me. Then I slid in deeper and deeper til he groaned as my pelvis pressed against his ass.

After I’d gone to the trouble of find the special batteries for the vibe I was damn sure gonna use them, so once I was planted deeply inside him I fumbled around, wiggling my fingers between the harness & my body until I found the button to turn it on. Then I settled in to bugger him really, really well.

I came lots of times while I fucked him, small orgasms made infinitely more potent by my murmuring to him each time: “there bitch, that’s another trick who just shot his jizz into your horny ass. Are you ready for the next one? Too bad, cause there’s another hard cock waiting to fuck you…” Filled with the triumphant feelings of kidnapping him, enslaving him, raping him I became a one-woman gangbang. I was high on the rush of control and insatiably aroused.

At some point I decided to switch cocks. He were so receptive, so pliant beneath me…I was so filled with the sense of power, the idea that I could do anything to him…that I wanted to fill him up with something bigger than he had ever taken before. So after one more orgasm (that’s one more trick pumping a load into your horny ass slave…) I pulled out and, as quickly as I could manage with excited fingers fumbling on slippery lube-wet snaps, I changed to my disturbing alien dick.

I took advantage of the lull in the sodomy to commence with the next level of his ‘breaking in’. My plan had been to rape his ass right away, figuring the buttfucking would break any possible resistance (ha!), and then while he was putty in my hands to begin his sissy transformation. I announced it was time to begin his feminization and pushed him once more up on his knees. As he knelt before me I informed him that we’d be getting him a nice big set of knockers implanted soon, but for starters we were gonna make those cute little nipples as big and pink and puffy as possible. Which naturally means using the nipple suckers. I lifted his t-shirt and laved each nipple in turn, sucking and biting it before attaching the small black suction device that would make it swell and redden.

While I gave the nipple suckers time to work I teased him, stroking his throbbing cockette and speculating about how it might get smaller and more useless once he’d been on the hormones for a while. That’d be ok though, since nobody was interested in using that silly little thing except to torment him with. That it might even make it easier on him once he was locked in chastity all the time. I noted also how the nipple suckers poked through his purple t-shirt, looking for all the world like big fat female nipples perched atop full breasts. I told him how mouthwatering they looked on him, and how charming it would be once we got those implants done and he had big fat boobs for me to play with all the time. How much I would enjoy sliding my cock in between them, tit-fucking him, having yet another way to use him.

After a few minutes of this I judged that his nipples must be sufficiently swollen; with casual brutality I flicked the suckers off both of them at once. They might be red and puffy already but I was not at all ready to stop torturing them, so I bent to nibble and suck on his nipples some more. I got a little carried away perhaps, actually chewing on them more than nibbling. He whimpered and yelped but didn’t pull away from my sadistic caress. I was reluctant to remove my mouth but other urges were growing so I impulsively clipped a clothespin on each nip then moved to the other side of his body.

I used a carabiner to quickly clip his hands together behind his back. Then reached around to tease him about how it made his tits stick out. He yelped when I pushed him forward to lie atop the waiting cushion. It must’ve hurt a lot lying on top of those clothespins like that; he yelped and tried to lift his torso away from the cushion when I settled my ass on the back of his thighs. “Mistress, please…” he whimpered

“What is it slave?”

“The clothespins, they’re too much”

“Well I guess you should beg me to take them off then.”

“Oh Mistress please, your sissy would do anything for you but they hurt so bad Mistress will you please please take them off?”

“Oh, all right, you big sissy” I turned around, straddling his legs, and used his hair to pull him to his knees. Lifting his shirt I ripped the left pin off one nipple, then the other. He yelped and I pressed my fingers against them, soothing that first sting but then making it worse by pinching and twisting on them myself.
But I was in the middle of something, so soon I shoved him back down, face-first, onto the cushion. I leaned over and grabbed the pair of red fishnets I’d laid out and (with the minor interruption of having to unfasten his ankle shackles) sensuously slid them up his legs. He shivered and moaned as the soft stretchy net spread up his legs. Then I opened his other birthday present: a brand new pair of slutty black pumps with 4” heels and a delicate ankle strap. I pulled his feet up one at a time, sliding them into the sexy arched shape of the shoes and fastening the straps securely around his ankles. Then his shackles were returned, and my pretty whore was really looking the part.

I paused to admire my work, stroking his luscious thighs and squeezing his buttcheeks. Then I moved up to his head; I meant to make him suck my big hard cock before I shoved it up his ass. I rubbed it on his (still blindfolded) face, smacking him with it, taunting him about how good it was going to feel to have that entire, massive piece of meat up inside him. How much his slutty whore self was gonna love it, even if it hurt. I get such a rush literally rubbing his face in it like that. And then I slipped behind him once more, pushed him down onto the cushion, spread his cheeks and (adding another quick glob of lube) slid it in. Inch after inch he took it, moaning and whimpering like it hurt but wiggling his cute ass around and humping back against me to take more and more. Soon I was buried to the balls inside him and he was groaning as I swung my hips back and forth. I wanted him to feel every fucking inch of that cock, to feel utterly, completely filled. And USED.

I’d snatched him from his bed just after 3am and when I finally let him up from that first round of sodomy it was six. So I figure I spent nearly two hours fucking that sweet sissy ass. And I know he’d never taken anything that big before. So yeah, I’d guess that I accomplished my goal. *evilgrin*

I must have cum at least 6 or 8 times, maybe more, but up to this point they’d all been those little popcorn orgasms: plenty of ‘em, but none really satisfying. And by now my lust was at a fever pitch. I wanted to cum again, good and HARD. So finally, reluctantly, I pulled my strap-on from tia’s ass and wiggled out of the harness. I unclipped the carabiner holding his wrists together and tugged the leash, prompting him to clamber up on all fours. I knew just how I wanted to accomplish this so I shifted to the sofa and reached for gizmo, our combination gag & dildo. I fastened the strap around his head and pulled it to me, aiming the black rubber phallus at my throbbing pussy. I draped my legs across his shoulders, closed my eyes and began to move, grinding my cunt against his face and frantically rubbing my clit. After just a few minutes I was swept away by powerful waves of pleasure, bucking and clenching my thighs around his head.

When I came down from these ecstatic crests I unwrapped my legs from around his head and unstrapped gizmo. As is our usual custom I presented my end of it to him to lick clean, but I only gave it a few cursory swirls in his hungrily sucking mouth before laying it aside. I was hungry now myself so I scampered to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of orange juice and a couple of donuts. I returned to my seat on the sofa and pressed the glass to his lips, allowing him a sip of juice before feeding him a big bite of donut. He moaned in delight, swallowing the sugary morsel and saying “Mistress, you just crossed the line into complete decadence.” “Oh no my pretty slut," I responded, "I’m just getting started.” When we’d finished devouring our snack I licked my fingers and gathered him in my arms. Unwinding the vet wrap from around his eyes I announced “welcome to your new home bitch.”

to be continued...

Happy Birthdayversary! (prelude)

nospam@example.com (Erisiana Cherie) — Fri, 10 Feb 2012 14:41:40 -0700

First I guess I need to give y'all a little bit of backstory. Tia's birthday is on February 6th. And the first year we were together I put my collar on him on Feb. 4th. I meant it to be a birthday gift that year but he was traveling out of town that weekend for his brother's wedding. I didn't seriously think he was liable to meet some other dom and slip out of my clutches while he was away, but I wanted to mark him as MINE before I let him go anyway. So what with it being his birthday...and one of our anniversaries...and with Valentine's Day so close...well, it does tend to turn out to be a major event on our holiday calendar.

This year's a little different. We're even broker than usual; so broke that tia's having to move to a more economical place to live. We won't have our playroom anymore and truthfully the place he's moving to is kind of a dump. I know, because I'm the landlord. :p

(The reasons why Izzy & I happen to be in possession of a crappy old mobile home which will henceforth be referred to as Sandpit Manor are another story.)

Anyway, I wanted to do something REALLY special for this year's birthdayversary celebration. And I also wanted to somehow inject some joy into this move. There was this scheme I'd had in the back of my mind for a long, long time, and as soon as I knew for sure that he was moving into Sandpit Manor it occurred to me that NOW was the time for it. The following was written the evening of February 4th, 2012, as I prepared to put my long-anticipated plot into action...

Tonight’s the night.

I can’t remember when I first conceived this idea. I’ve certainly been holding it in the back of my mind for a long, long time. Waiting for the right moment. And this is SO the right moment.

You will surely want me to write about this weekend after it’s done*. (Assuming it all goes well of course. Which is something I’m not at all certain about.) And I will try to, I must try to. But I also thought it would be nice to record some of my thoughts beforehand. I’m bursting with excitement, walking around the house cackling and grinning to myself, and worse, I can’t talk to anybody about it. I can’t say anything in front of the kids…can’t tweet or post or you’ll see…my sense of decorum prohibits me divulging the juicy details to anyone but Izzy…and my sense of emo-avoidance prohibits me from going on and on about it to Izzy.

But omg this is…I guess this is a dream come true for me. I think (fear?) that I may enjoy it more than you do. I so want it to be incredible for you, leave you feeling swept away, captured, caged in a box where all the walls have my evil smile. And used, gloriously, hedonistically, in every possible way and then some used. I want this weekend to be so incredible that you will actually feel nostalgic about the graffiti’d walls and rotting paneling when they go.

I want your first experience in your new home to be once in a lifetime. In a good way.

I can’t remember when the idea first came to me. But I knew as soon as we committed to this move that NOW was the time. Now was the time for so many reasons: it’s dead cheap, which is a necessity for us right now. Sandpit Manor is in crappy shape, literally looking like a crackhouse – kind of perfect for the scene. And like I said, I desperately want to give you a good first impression.

(I know we’re working with a specialized definition of a good first impression here.)

And to make it all even better, it’s something I’m really really excited about doing. So excited that I suspect thinking about it has brought on my current ‘horny spell’! It’s like…it’s like this is the closest I’ve ever come to capturing the feelings aroused by my masturbatory fantasies. Like this is the closest I’ve ever come to having that kind of control. I don’t know if these are the right words; these feelings seem so fresh and new, I can’t really articulate what’s inside. (And ok, it doesn’t help that I’m trying to write this with major kiddus interruptus happening.)

I’ve been plotting with Izzy almost since it occurred to me that now was the time. And I’ve been scampering around like a madwoman today making my preparations. You, who are forever wishing that I was more Machiavellian, would be (will be!) delighted I think. I thought a lot about how best to bind you: quickly, but it needs to be something that feels serious. I hope the vet wrap does the trick. And it was a nice bonus that we already had some in the toy chest.

I consulted Izzy about using a weapon during the grab. He strongly advised me against using a real gun, even unloaded, just in case the authorities get involved inadvertently. And he didn’t want me borrowing any of his pretty bladed things; a sentiment I can’t disagree with knowing my own physical limitations. The thought of accidentally harming you is more than enough to make me forgo anything with a truly sharp edge. But I did buy a toy knife, and a toy gun. I don’t know which of them will have a more convincing feel but I’ve been having real interesting thoughts about both in the context of penetration play. *grin*

I also spent an hour today picking out different outfits to dress my pretty slave in. I only chose one “dominatrix” ensemble for myself. I want my chance to play dress-up too but I don’t want to spend the whole weekend that way! I will go for Mistressly comfort and delight in making you wear uncomfortably sexy things for me. I don’t intend to tell you this until the last possible minute but I packed some boy clothes for you too; I don’t really mean to make you go outside dressed in the extremely slutty garb I’ve selected for you to wear. And I packed some comic books for you, and a pack of your allergy medicine.

I also made a trip to the liquor store and got, among other things, a 6-pack of Killian’s Red. I think one of my most brilliant notions was the idea of feeding you bbq and beer…in a dog dish. *wickedgrin*

I guess I don’t need to note every single detail of my plans. You’ll be discovering them all in the flesh beginning in just a few hours. I just wanted to say a little bit about my scheming, and how much fun I’ve been having in the doing of it

* And I was right. Tia started pestering me to write an account of the experience as soon as I let him up for air. :p

Stay tuned for all the juicy details!

Sleeping Violation

nospam@example.com (Erisiana Cherie) — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 10:34:05 -0700

The idea of creeping up on someone & ravishing them in their sleep is one that runs though quite a lot of my fantasies. And as pre-engineered scenes go it’s an easy one to put together on the spur of the moment. So last night I decided to throw tia a mighty swerve and ‘rape’ him in his sleep.

My mojo has been seriously limping lately. Worries about money, about the kids, about my health and that of my loved ones; all the usual crap of life has been dragging me down. And I’ve been going around bitching and whining about needing a domme fix for weeks.

We’d shot a scene together yesterday that went pretty well. It wasn’t enough to get my fires blazing, but it was a decent spark. Then after I tucked tia in bed I did a few more solo clips that fanned those flames a good bit higher. By the time I was ready to quit for the night I was also ready for some serious action.

And tia was asleep.

Naturally my mind supplied the favorite arousal-button of the sleeping violation, so I quickly assembled my “rape kit”: Strapon (of course) but no lube, as I happened to know my victim had some on his bedside table. *whistles innocently* A long scarf to tie his wrists with. A nice fat ballgag and a damp washcloth.

(I actually took some time debating how best to secure his wrists. Shackles? Rope? I needed it to be fast but not terribly secure; knowing my slut he was more likely to beg for more than put up any serious resistance. The scarf won on grounds of speediness.)

Silently opening his door I saw that he had a pillow over his face. Good; the light wouldn’t wake him and I’d be able to be on him before he knew I was there. I pulled the door almost shut; leaving a sliver of light that was just enough to see by. Didn’t want to rouse my victim’s roommate! Then, laying the washcloth down beside the bed and moving the lube within easy reach, I climbed on top of him. I shoved the gag into his mouth and leaned down to growl in his ear “do exactly as I say and you won’t get hurt bitch”.

The gag fastened in place I pushed him over onto his stomach, grabbing one arm and twisting it up behind his back as I did so. My scarf made a quick lark’s head around one wrist and the ends were available to bind the other, which I was already tugging into place. His hands secured, I climbed off his shivering body. I stopped beside him, my hand on his ass, to murmur in his ear again: “Mmm, that’s a sweet ass you got there bitch. I’m really gonna like sticking my dick in it. And if it’s not as much fun for you as it is for me…well, too bad”. He shivered as I gave his ass a solid smack.

Moving around to straddle his legs, I spread his buttcheeks and slid my silicone hard-on between them. I could feel the moisture of our earlier congress still present; there seemed to be quite a lot of it. “Well well, the little slut’s all juiced up already” I taunted him, rubbing my cockhead around his anus. “Were you waiting for me to come and fuck you bitch? I bet you were, I know how you slutty little sissy whores are, always wanting to have a cock in you. I bet I don’t even need to use any lube do I?” I continued, abruptly shoving the first two inches of my dick past his sphincter.

I immediately pulled back out as his sharp gasp let me know how much the sudden intrusion hurt. A few seconds pause to let the spasm subside and I knew he would take me much easier. Wanting to be on the safe side but still maintain the illusion of an unprepared entry I sneakily squirted the tiniest dab of lube I could onto the head of my dick while I was at it. Then, taking aim once more, I pushed my entire length into him in one firm stroke. “That’s it, take every inch of it baby. Gonna fill that sweet ass up with my cock whether you like it or not.” He moaned as I began to slide in and out.

After a few seconds of fucking I shifted position so that one of my knees was between his thighs. Now I was at a better angle to tease my clit with the strapon, and I could balance my weight on my legs, freeing my hands to do other things. I kept one hand on his hip, squeezing it, using it to pull his pelvis toward me in time with my thrusts, occasionally giving him another smack. My other hand was at his wrists, pinning them down. Then in his hair, pulling his head back as I snarled: “oh yeah, you like that bitch, don’t you? Having that big ol cock all the way up in there, being used like the slutty little whore you are. We both know what a filthy sissy tramp you are, don’t we? DON’T WE?” He moans in helpless acquiescence as I yank his head back even harder.

I continued shoving my fucktool into him, telling him what a whore he was, a horny, cum-craving sissy whore, telling him that I knew slutty little sissy bitches like him needed their hungry asses filled, murmuring words of filthy humiliation in his ear as I ground my pelvis against his soft white ass. Until, at last (though it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes really), I came.

I always am a little surprised I don’t ejaculate when I cum. It sure FEELS like I do; a jumping, throbbing pulse that squeezeshoots out bursts of…something. From the cock that’s not my flesh squirting into the body of my lover/victim, which I can almost(still not really) feel squeezing around me. I guess it’s at these moments that I most feel a…lack…in my body, or a closeness to the genital equipment I might have opted for, if given a choice.

A-ny-way, back to my story…I gave tia’s ass one more smack and informed him “you’re a nice piece of ass bitch, a fine little piece of fuckmeat. I really enjoyed sticking it to you.” Three more pounding thrusts HARD into his butt to emphasize my point and I yanked my purple phallus out of his abused asshole.

“But you’re not done yet bitch” I continued, hastily scrubbing the dildo with my damp washcloth. (Were you wondering when I’d get to that?) I released one of his bound hands and tugged both arms so that I could re-tie them above his head. Then, moving to kneel beside his face, I unfastened the ball-gag and placed the tip of my cock against his lips. “You got my cock all dirty, now you have to lick it clean” I said as I shoved it into his whimpering mouth.

I swear, that boy never gives such good blowjobs as when he’s half asleep. Or maybe it’s just that his throat is more relaxed, he’s able to open up and let me just fuck the shit out of his face. That’s definitely what I was doing now; I’d meant to give a few thrusts just to drive home his enslavement and humiliation. But he was so receptive, taking my dick down his throat with such moaning ease, that I started to get really aroused again. I wound one hand through his hair and with the other reached down to grab his little cock. I kept pulling and yanking on it, roughly jerking him while I fucked his face. I didn’t think I was likely to cum again but it felt so good I didn’t want to stop. The physical sensations, the dildo pressing rhythmically against my mons, pulling his hair, feeling his cockette twitching in my hand…and the sense of sheer dominant triumph at having him helpless, at my mercy, and using him so…the combination was intoxicating.

But stop I did, eventually, pulling my dick out of his mouth with an audible ‘plop’. I smacked him with it a few times, rubbing his face in it, then used the palm of my hand for one last stinging slap on the cheek. “See you later bitch” I threatened, and as he lay there naked and trembling, hands still bound and whimpering with frustrated need, I walked, laughing, out the door.

A Sissy's Holiday

nospam@example.com (slave tia) — Wed, 28 Dec 2011 07:24:46 -0700

It was just before Xmas and I was with Mistress and her husband on the couch dressed in a pink sheer mesh chemise, thong panties and pink seamed stockings, high heels and my collar. I hadn't been made up but Mistress wanted me to look as pretty as possible anyway, and she liked my choice of outfit.

We watched a movie for a while and had some wine and eventually, with that gleam in her eye she told me to fetch her crop and wait for her and Sir in the playroom on my knees, the crop held between my teeth. I scampered off to the playroom to obey and tried to hold her crop as best I could without getting teethmarks on it.

Not that it spared me any lashes when she came in! But I could tell she wanted some other kind of entertainment, as she sat in a chair and told me to crawl to her husband and beg him to spank me.

The embarrassment and the wine made it hard to beg without a nervous giggle or two but I did manage to beg him to spank my sissy ass and with a big smile he shackled my wrists and and chained me up standing in the corner.

What followed was....one of the most erotic experiences of my life. *bright blush*

I've had forced bi experiences before...you'd think I'd have become used to it by now, but no, its still a very powerful act to me. And usually my experiences in the past have been more sexual than sensual, if you follow what I'm saying. Like the difference between making love and fucking.

He played me like an instrument and I loved every second of it. Soft touches, caresses, kissing the back of my neck, stroking my cockette through my panties, grabbing and rubbing my ass before SMACK SMACK SMACK he spanked me bare-handed until I cried out only to start all over again with the soft touches.

I felt so...feminine. Like this was the epitome of my physical and mental forced feminization. Not only was I to look the part, to please my Mistress and her husband, but I should act the part as well, feel it in my soul that this was my place, this was my purpose--to be a feminized fucktoy to them both.

My body responded to it, making me writhe in my chains helplessly. I remember letting out a moan of deep surrender as he grabbed my hair and kissed me hard. This told my Owners I was ready to be fucked.

He tried with me standing there, chained in the corner as I was but the heights just wouldnt match up so I was told to get on all fours in front of Mistress and lick her as he took my ass.

It was very hard and sharp feeling...its a massive cock, and there have been times in the past where it was simply too painful. But he was so gentle with me, and...and maybe I was just more 'ready' than I had ever been before, I dont know, but I took it much much better than I had before, although it was very hard to concentrate on pleasing Mistress with my mouth!

It was pain, it was pleasure, it was oh so very humbling to be fucked like that, surrendering my sexuality to my Mistress, relishing in my role as slut and playtoy to her and her husband.

As he came inside me I felt so...fulfilled. But ohhhh so frustrated, as I ached for more. Mistress & Sir were done with me for the night but I was so far gone into slutty subspace I wanted to be used and used and used again all night!

It would be two days later, on the 3rd year anniversary of the day where I met my Mistress in the flesh for the first time, after a day of being used by her in every way was I allowed to cum. And even then I was only allowed to do so as a proper sissy--on my back as she fucked my ass with her strap on!

Mmmm...it was a beautiful, beautiful holiday indeed!

Analysing my fetish, continued

nospam@example.com (Erisiana Cherie) — Fri, 02 Dec 2011 13:55:00 -0700

Sometime in my late 20's I said to myself "fuck it; the only people I'm hurting are figments of my imagination". I decided that I deserved sexual satisfaction as much as anybody else, even if my fantasies WERE exactly what my feminist peers hated most. I decided that I was an honorable, ethical person, and that I did not need to live my life ruled by the moral exhortations of people who obviously cared more about controlling my thoughts than about my actual well-being. I decided that I wanted to fucking well enjoy my fantasies for a change.

And that was when understanding began to dawn on me. Before this point I would have insisted that I viewed these scenes from outside, as if watching a movie, and that I wasn't in any role. Now I could see that I was MUCH more interested in the aggressor's perspective, imagining in minute detail what they said, did, & felt. I realized first that I was not, in fact, ever interested in mentally playing the part of the victimized girl, but that I totally got into the part of the raping man. Or, more accurately, the role of the men. ALL of them, simultaneously. Which is impossible in the real world, yes? And so the second thing I realized was that the sheer physical impossibility of my fantasies was important to me. It was significant that my role in the scene was as the sort of big, hairy, masculine guy that I had no interest in being (or shagging). It was significant that I often mentally played the part of a whole GROUP of these guys. It was significant that I also loved things like Japanese tentacle porn which were equally impossible.

It would be easy to assume that my rape fantasies have male aggressors and female victims because we live in a culture where women are shat on. That IS the feminist party line, isn't it? Nowadays the dogma goes so far as to call this a "rape culture". (And that assumption was a HUGE part of why I felt unable to talk about my fetish with anyone. A huge part of why I still avoid talking about it.) But that explanation just doesn't ring true for me. As I said I grew up in a household headed by a strong woman who ruled over us all, including her husband. I was taught that girls could do anything they wanted to, including have free & satisfying sex lives, and that equality between the sexes was the order of the day. And I lived by that teaching too. For instance, in 99% of my relationships I've been the one who made the first move toward sex. Heck, I'm accustomed to making the first move even in asking for a date. And maybe I've been freakishly lucky but I've had dozens of male lovers and never yet encountered one who was NOT greatly interested in my pleasure. In my world women have always been free sexual agents.

So yeah, the idea that my mind fixed on these archetypes because of some underlying belief that woman=victim simply does not hold water. But we also live in a culture where MEN are presumed to be victimizers. Even the 'good guys' are supposedly only a hair's breadth from turning into predators at any time. That is the message sent by things like the ubiquitous falsehood "1 in 4 women will be sexually assaulted". It's the basis of the entire "rape culture" theory. And women, according to this dogma - the dogma that I grew up with, remember - are supposedly so morally superior that they would never, ever be sadistic rapists.

Take that message - that only men are capable of being sexually sadistic, and women are never rapists - and layer it with the usual prohibitions against ANY violence, and it hardly seems surprising that I might have had difficulty coming to terms with being a sexually sadistic woman. The funny thing is, I haven't ever really felt any of the agonizing guilt about 'abusing' people I like that seems so common with other doms. I figure its because my subconscious did this neat little trick, and turned my darkest fantasies into something that relied on it's own impossibility. I don't want to be a big, hairy, brutal guy. I don't want to be any guy. And thus on a very basic level I never worry that I'll go too far in realizing my dark dreams, because I never could!

This all makes even more sense when taking into account my disposition. If I had a D&D orientation it would be 'lawful good'. In a way you could say I play the role of an impossible villain because I can't imagine myself as the villain.

Now if all this sounds like I'm anti-feminist you've got the wrong idea. To repeat what I've said several times already - I grew up believing very strongly in the ideal of equality among all sexes/genders. I STILL HAVE those ideals. I think this sense of justice is at the heart of at least one part of my kink. But I've also had a pile of life experiences that've led me to doubt some of the feminist dogma I was taught. And in this case it makes a whole lot more sense to me to think of my fetish as being a response to negative messages I absorbed about men rather than negative messages I absorbed about women.

A self-protective twist of my subconscious elegantly accounts for the gender oddity in my fantasies. But I believe the core need expressed in them is a need for CONTROL. In many ways I was not in control when I was growing up. I guess this is true for every child, but perhaps more than usual in my family. And knowing the extent of my drive to control things (including non-sexual things) nowadays it makes perfect sense. My fantasies in the end are all about control.

And this final realization illuminates yet another facet of my fetish. You know how they say 'rape is not about sex, it's about control'? (Another one of those items of dogma I grew up with.) Well, in a way the girl in my fantasies IS also me, even while I consciously inhabit the role of the man/men. They are all symbolic figures constructed by my psyche. And the dramatic enactment of the rape itself symbolically represents me controlling my own sexuality.

That about sums it up for an analysis of my fetish. But it's really only the beginning of analyzing my sexuality. This entire essay has been about what was going on inside my head though the years; it says very little about my behaviors. It doesn't explain, for instance, how I got into sex work...how I became a domme...what I get out of forced feminization...or a lot of other things one might wonder about. This fetish is like the keystone of an arch: it's central to my sexuality but it's meaningless without all the other building blocks. I aim to try putting all the rest into words as well, but considering this bit took me weeks to compose I recommend not holding your breath in waiting for the next installment. :p

Analysing my fetish

nospam@example.com (Erisiana Cherie) — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 05:16:03 -0700

Tia's recent bout of self-analysis has prompted me to try doing the same for my own kink(s). I have so far avoided doing so because I feel like it's just too complicated to be able to express. I'm sure that people will focus on one thread of what is really a big tangled mass and miss the larger picture I mean to convey. And frankly, I don't feel like the general public has any claim to this kind of intimacy with me; I'm very comfortable sharing my body but the deep, dark corners of my mind belong to me alone.

But there are other things I want very much to say that will make a lot more sense after I fill in this backstory. So {deep breath} here goes..

I think I need to begin by talking about my fetish. I have a rape fetish. And I don't mean a fetish in the sense of 'something I like a lot that gets me really turned on'. I mean in the CLINICAL sense: something that I cannot achieve sexual satisfaction without. Something that has to be there for me to have an orgasm.

(Complication #1 - I don't know how common this is, but I know I'm not the only woman who has different sorts of orgasms from different kinds of stimulation. I have at least four kinds of orgasms. But my clitoral orgasms are like steak while the others are more like strawberries: they're all tasty but one leaves me satiated wheras the others aren't really filling unless I have a whole bunch of them, and then I'm hungry again soon.

When I speak of not being able to achieve orgasm without my fetish involved it's clitoral orgasms I'm talking about. And while I enjoy the other sorts very much, it's the clitoral orgasms I need to have to feel truly satisfied.)

I hope it goes without saying that I do not need to actually rape anybody to be satisfied. But I do need to be mentally focused on a certain kind of fantasy. The exact elements of these fantasies varies, but they generally involve some poor, helpless, innocent girl being sadistically raped and tortured by one or (more often) a whole gang of vicious men. And here we come to complication #2: the gender kink.

My fetish is something that has been a part of my sexuality for as long as I can remember, from the time I was a pre-adolescent dressing my Barbie dolls up in clothes made of paper towels so that Ken could tear them off her. But I didn't figure out until I was almost 30 that when I played these scenes out in my mind I was always in the role of the man.

It's not that I was sexually unsophisticated or inexperienced either. I was often the most lustfully adventurous person among my peers. In fact, sometimes I look back and wonder how the heck it took me so long to figure this shit out. But on the other hand, considering all the societal factors that come into play I suppose it makes sense.

Perhaps the single biggest obstacle to my understanding was the cultural assumption that one's sexual fantasies directly correlate with what one wants to make real. This assumption is SO prevalent it's difficult for most people, in my experience, to even grasp the idea that some of us are not wired that way, that for some of us the very impossibility of the fantasy is a necessary part of the thrill. It seems pretty obvious that this assumption is what's behind people's objections to "extreme" porn; it is certainly true that this assumption permeates discussions about porn ethics. So just imagine how it was for me as a girl, having grown up in a woman-headed family with STRONG feminist ideals, to be inescapably fixated on sexual fantasies that could not have been any more opposed to those ideals.

I couldn't talk to anyone about them because dude - violent rape fantasies? That I could not reach orgasm without? Yeah; you can imagine how most people would react to that. And I completely didn't understand that I saw myself as the big bad raping MAN either. I'm not only female, I'm femme. I'm very happy with my womanly body and not at all interested in becoming a man. I don't even want to look butch. That meant I MUST want to be the girl in the scene, right?

Right?

Of course not, but a decade or so of hearing about how porn - even ordinary vanilla porn - "objectified" and hurt women, well, that was plenty enough indoctrination to fuck with my ability to know myself. And MORE than enough indoctrination to fuck with my ability to communicate this shit to anyone. So I was left in a state of perpetual guilt, unable to share my whole sexuality with my lovers, unable to talk about it with my friends, unable even to discuss it with the several therapists I saw at various times during those years. I tried, more than once, to exorcise this dark part of myself. To stop 'giving in' to these thoughts that I was convinced were harmful. Which was useless of course.

{to be continued..}

Oh the fantasies in my head...

nospam@example.com (slave tia) — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 08:07:23 -0700

Mistress has been teasing me lately about getting me a 'boyfriend'.

*BLUSH*

The following is from my slave journal written after one particularly tortuous night of being teased & denied, kept on the edge of orgasm while she humiliated me with my own fantasies and burning ache to submit and be used..

I love the thought of it not being up to me at all. Having pictures taken, then put up online for you to write a profile for and go over all applicants—who know they are communicating with you, not me. Teased and humiliated and made to feel like a piece of meat, a fucktoy. I can just see the evil delight in you as you write the flirty profile, and go through the responses while I kneel helplessly at your feet.

Then the terror/humiliation if you actually pick someone. What if you don’t tell me anything about them at all? What if it’s a total surprise? It could be anyone…maybe even that dom gay male couple on collarme I see from time to time, or a dom cd, or some lecherous tranny chaser…

All I’m told is that I am to obey them, and I am to respond not only like a girl, but enthusiastically!

And then I’m totally feminized from head to toe, wig, makeup, some slutty outfit, and taken out…no choice in the matter, feeling very much like some sort of virgin sacrifice. I could be being taken to a gay bar, where I will have to have a few drinks and be ‘wooed'. I could be taken to some private home where I’ll be put in chains and fucked.

It could be anything…but all I can do is obey you, and whoever he or she is by extension.

I can see you there with me. Cropping me if I’m not enthusiastic enough. Ordering me to respond this way or that way—like spreading my legs back to be touched, or to use my tongue for a kiss.

And even more squirmy than this hot imagined scene? The idea that it might not be an isolated incident. That I might have to do my makeup and prepare myself for this person myself in the future.

That total surrender…ohhhhh….

Happy Thanksgiving!

nospam@example.com (slave tia) — Thu, 24 Nov 2011 07:40:17 -0700

And in honor of Thanksgiving, an image of Mistress trussing me up like a turkey!

Just don't ask for any stuffing.

Fuck Psychology

nospam@example.com (Erisiana Cherie) — Thu, 17 Nov 2011 19:30:00 -0700

This blog's had a plethora of thoughtful, serious posts lately. And you know what that means...time for some porn!

Cuckolding: a few thoughts from an outsider

nospam@example.com (slave tia) — Fri, 28 Oct 2011 05:12:00 -0700

As a fetish goes, cuckolding is one that interests and excites me personally, I must admit. But in a way different than most, if what I see in blogs and on Fetlife is any indication.

Typically in cuckolding stories its all about the dominant wife or GF having sex with another man, and I can see (from the outside) its appeal as far as humiliation, tease and denial, goes. I understand and even share some of these feelings--but 'the act' of cuckolding does not in and of itself 'do it' for me, personally.

For instance, often in cuckolding stories (fiction or otherwise) the wife/GF may just go out with the bull, or exile the submissive husband/BF to his room while the domme and bull have some good 'ol fashion vanilla sex without the sub being involved at all.

While this would produce jealousy in me personally, to some extent, it would also produce...boredom.

No...what truly excites me about cuckolding stories is when the domme and the bull dominate and humiliate the submissive together, especially if feminization is involved. Its exciting to me then--when the submissive is an active and desired participant in the activity, as opposed to exiling the submissive from his own relationship or marriage with the domme, which strikes me as more hurtful.

Its one of the reasons I find the blog "All Mine" so delicious. The sissy submissive husband tammy is very much a part of the proceedings, and the Mistress, the bull, and other playmates all seem to be successfully managing a loving, polygamous lifestyle so well and so HOT than one cannot help but feel a bit envious of their adventures.

Not that my own life isn't without its adventures either! But I do sometimes feel like we hit a number of speedbumps along the way.

(For those of you reading this who do not regularly follow our blog Slavegirl Sissy just know I am an owned, collared slave to my Mistress Lady Erisiana Cherie, who is married to a lovely man (Father Izzy). He is not my 'Master' but has topped me a little, from time to time.)

Anyway...back to cuckolding: as you can see, in my case, it doesn't really apply or fit my own relationship status at all. But the appeal of it lies more in a forced bi interest, to me. The total surrender of oneself to one's Mistress up to and including one's own sexuality and sense of identity...to be owned and used as a slave, period, objectified and effectively genderless to be used by a Mistress or a Master equally....this is what excites me.

That delicious feeling of being OWNED, body and soul, as helpless as a fly in the web of a beautiful Spider Queen...*smiles softly*.

Makes me just want to sink deep into submission and never come back up again...would that I could!

Sissy Foot Slave

nospam@example.com (slave tia) — Tue, 25 Oct 2011 09:17:57 -0700

I think perhaps our latest clip, Sissy Foot Slave, is my favorite of all the videos tia and I have made to date.

We'd actually shot some more well-planned video earlier that day. Now I don't know about other women but for me it takes some time to get up to 'full speed', sexually speaking. But then, once I'm there, I'm like the energizer bunny: I just keep going, and going, and going...

Anyway, we had shot some other video earlier that day and we were both tired. But I was STILL horny, and I hadn't allowed tia to cum yet at all. So I decided to pull out my little play camera and shoot one last scene for my personal pleasure.

First I made him pull down his panties and put on a condom..

My god will you LOOK at those HANDS?

Next I ordered him to hump my feet like the helpless sissy slave he is.

I soon noticed his little bird was peeking out of his panties without permission, so I tucked it back in. For some strange reason this did not seem to work..

Then I told him he had to worship my feet..

kiss and lick and suck them..

thank me for being so deliciously mean to him..

tell me how much he loved it..

and beg me to let him hump my feet some more..

Finally, at long last (I think it'd been 10 days or so since his last orgasm), I let him squirt his cream into the condom...

Then of course he had to slurp it all down, and thank me again!

But all that was really just the prelude. The best part was that I immediately turned around and watched the video footage...and masturbated to it! Right there on the sofa in front of him, while he was still whimpering & shivering in submission. Getting him all worked up again, knowing how much it turns me on to abuse him.

Yeah, that was the best part. *evilgrin*

Bikini party girl!

nospam@example.com (slave tia) — Thu, 13 Oct 2011 07:59:28 -0700

So yesterday, thanks to an odd work schedule, I had a rare day off in the middle of the week and so happened to be off on one of Mistress's monthly Shemale Salon parties.

We arrived late morning, and I carried what seemed to me to be an unending collection of heavy bags into the lovely home/bed & breakfast that was hosting the party. Most of which we didn't end up even using--Mistress had been intending on doing some video with me there, but we ending up not doing any after all.

Once we had settled and had lunch Mistress had me change into the new bikini she bought for me...a mint-green bottom, a little white top that she filled out with some false breast forms, and that was my 'uniform' for most of the day. I knelt at her feet, and Mistress attached my collar around my neck, then tied a rope through it to use as a leash and led me around behind her. It was definitely clear to all that I was property: moreover, I was HER property, and ohhhh it felt so good.

(*blushes*) I had not been around anyone else other than Mistress in the bikini before, and got a few complements (much to my embarrassment) and a grope or two (!). I felt the Florida sun warm my body and wondered if it would leave any interesting tan lines on my body...felt so sexy, all shaved smooth and exposed to all to see or touch or use.

Before we got in the pool Mistress decided she wanted to 'warm me up first' and had me go fetch the Bag Of Hitty Slappy Stingy Ouchie Things. She then tied the end of my rope leash onto the deck railing and had me lean forward, presenting her with my ass.

Bear in mind this is outside.

In the city.

In the middle of the workweek.

And while this was a private party and there were large privacy fences and trees and such to keep from being seen, well, sound travels, doesn't it? And on the other side of those trees right in front of me was a gas station full of cars coming in and out.

As Mistress hit me with the flogger, the paddle, the slapper and god knows what else as I helplessly stood there, it was all I could do to keep from crying out too loudly. I'm pretty sure the sound of floggers and paddles hitting flesh, followed by cries and yelps and grunts cannot be mistaken for anything else.

After a little while of that Mistress untied the leash and took me into the pool. Freezing at first, we soon got used to it and I got to enjoy the wonderful feeling of having my smooth body rubbing against hers. Mmmm....lovely day..

We were in there quite a while, I think, getting more and more excited by the minute as Mistress played with her toy bikini girl, whispering in my ear that I was her sissy girlfriend and toy and bitch and slave... All of this made me ache for it more and more, and she knew it...played me like a violin until I'm begging to be fucked.

This Mistress was more than happy to do, and she led me back into the bunkhouse, there to bend over a medical table and be fucked by her large purple dildo. Ohhh...the past few months she has taken my anal training up several notches, I'm now aching for it, longing for it, rejoicing in the delicious feeling of surrender to it. In the back of my mind I know we have an audience of fellow party-goers (one of them even tweeted about it) but I'm too far gone into 'slut' mode now to care, I just want Mistress to fuck me! I even find myself even more excited by the onlookers in a strange way, by their witnessing what a craven wanton sissy whore Mistress has reduced me to..

And oh my god Mistress is cumming from fucking me, the strap-on dildo rubbing her in just the right way as she feels my body shudder and surrender to her...ohhhh...so beautiful...so humbling to know that I can be used for her pleasure in total whore-ish fashion, this totally emasculating way. I am nothing more than a sissy toy to be used for her pleasure, and...ohhh....she's not done yet!

She pulls out and has me crawl up and onto the medical table, and put my feet in the stirrups, slide my ass to the end of the table so she can take me for a round two on my back, my cockette between us completely unused and forgotten about and it feels so good to be pounded by my Mistress, mmmm oh yes please take my ass, take it rough, I want to feel totally helpless under you I want to feel like I'm being raped and ohhhh if you reach out your hands and hold me by the throat I think I'm going to explod....oh my god, is she cumming again???

And yes, she did...so beautiful...her smile so triumphant. I love her so.

Phew. Wow. So...*coughs*, needless to say it was about time for a break after that so we went out to a lovely dinner of steak and 2-for-1 happy hour drinks. Kind of extravagant for us and we'll probably regret the expense later but when you're on a 'total hedonism' kick the only thing really to do is take the ride. "Buy the ticket, take the ride" as the good Doctor would say.

We get back at the bunkhouse for the evening half of the daylong party...my evening dress was just the simple baby-blue tshirt Mistress had me in out in the vanilla world, my ruffly white panties with the multicolored hearts, high heels, and knee high rainbow socks.

'Dignity' apparently wasn't in my Mistress's mind when she chose this outfit for me but as I had been behaving like a wanton slut most of the day such concerns seemed to be well behind me now, I felt.

I was just lying on a bunk next to Mistress while she chatted with a friend of hers who had shown up, just kind of relaxing and blissing on the day and totally unprepared for it when Mistress--in the middle of the conversation with her friend, mind you--just ups and volunteers my services as a suckslut to an older gentleman who had I believe just come in the door.

Oh my god. (I say that a lot, don't I?)

Shyly, I crawl down to the floor to obey and start reluctantly kissing and licking this cock at her orders. I found it...difficult to get into, as it was a bit of a 'cold start' for me and it was an older gentleman, to boot. But as Mistress held my hair and guided my head back and forth on the cock I melted more into the submission of it.

This went on a little while...kneeling by the side of a bunkbed, the back of my head against a post so I really couldn't move my head much, helplessly sucking a stranger while Mistress alternately instructed me and continued her conversation with her friend at the same time.

The door opens and a new guest arrives, a younger man, my age or not much different, kind of hunky in tight jeans and wtf is Mistress doing to my mind that I can describe another man as 'hunky'???

Mistress gives him a warm welcome, finds out that this is HunkyGuy's first party, and offers him use of me....*moans*. The older gent takes his cock out of my mouth and moments later I'm sucking on another one, a younger one, a much more excited one...ohhhhh...

I'm on all fours now in front of him and his hands go down on my head and in my hair and ohhhh...he's stroking my hair, affectionately, I can feel his excitement in my mouth and I can tell that HunkyGuy is really into this...maybe even into me. Maybe. Just a little. And ohhh what that does to me, in my head, in my body as waves of sissy pleasure in the surrender course through me.

Mistress takes this opportunity to go off with her friend for a talk outside and leaves me alone with this stranger and I don't mind a bit, it even increases the amount of subspace I'm feeling....I'm feeling so..feminine. I feel my body responding to his hands stroking my hair, caressing my shoulders, it makes me want to please him, to please this gentle man being so affectionate with me, I forget all shyness and hesitation and eagerly suck and lick his cock and to my erotic horror (for lack of a better description of the feeling) I find myself aching to have those hands touch me all over...

But they don't...and after a little while he softly tells me that that's enough, that I had done very well... He strokes my hair a bit and then leaves the bunkhouse to rejoin the party. I shake a bit from sheer frustration and amazement at myself because I felt myself ache for more and more...this soft spoken man had triggered my slut side and it took some time curled up on the floor to recover..

I leave the bunkhouse and come across Mistress, who is pleased by Hunkyguy's verdict that I had done 'very well', and leading me by my rope leash takes me back into the bunkhouse for her turn.

This time she has me crawl up and in a hanging leather swing--I've never been in one of these before--and she cuffs my ankles to the hanging chains. She relubes me and takes me again with her strapon...and again we have watchers, two guests even following her in on purpose to see what she was going to do with me!

And ohh...*blush* there's a mirror on the ceiling above me. I can see myself get taken and fucked, helplessly in the leather swing and ohhhhh...*laughs* Ohhh Mistress, we should have filmed this one! soft smile

After a little while, this time I'm allowed to cum, she has me stroke myself as she's fucking me and after the highly erotic events of the day it doesn't take long before I'm shooting all over myself and on my stomach. Mistress being Mistress, she feeds a bit to me and I can only obey...

And...*coughs*. So. That was my Wednesday. How was yours? *dazed look*

Pegged by 2 Girls

nospam@example.com (Erisiana Cherie) — Thu, 29 Sep 2011 08:17:24 -0700

Here's a couple of screen shots from our latest video clip..

I've been sitting on this video for ages, nervous about publishing it in case Shy later changed her mind about being in porn. But as she's now started modeling for other sites I feel it's silly to hesitate any longer. So when she's famous, y'all remember you saw here here first, eh? ;-p

Smart ass penalties, revisited

nospam@example.com (Erisiana Cherie) — Mon, 26 Sep 2011 11:11:20 -0700

I've spoken of our system of smart-ass penalties here before. I really love making videos of these 'discipline' sessions. For one thing it's a type of scene that just begs for an audience. And I guess I enjoy watching these videos an awful lot. They're among the ones I keep coming back to anyway. *grin*

We made this one months ago, but I never got around to sharing these little samples from it..at least, I don't think I have. If I have done then I hope y'all won't mind seeing them again, lol! Personally I very much enjoyed watching myself bounce on poor tia's head & grind on his face as I revisited this one today..

You can also CLICK HERE to see a totally foot-fetishy promo vid

We haven't had a smart-ass penalty session in a while. And you know what? Even if tia's not past due for it (and I think he is, oh yes I do) I know damn sure *I* am!