Slavegirl Sissy

Turning a Corner

We quarreled again. And again, and again. And then he gave me a present. It was a porn movie. It occurs to me now that perhaps most women would not go all melty upon being given a porn movie, especially as a making-up-after-fighting gift. But for me, it was PERFECT.

We'd shot some video one night that had been screwed up because I forgot to turn the microphone on. He took that footage and turned it into a hilarious silent movie, complete with old-timey film effects and music. When he showed it to me I laughed my ass off the whole way through. Which I think was all he really cared about, making me laugh, but the gift was so much more too. And the more I thought about it the more perfect it was.

There are so many layers to it. On the most obvious level it reminded me of everything good about our relationship. All the laughter and silliness we've shared, the oh-so-delicious sexy play times, the way we've worked as a team. It told me like nothing else could that he wants to be my slave, that he wants just as badly as I do to get back to our "normal" life of perversion and pornmaking.

On an even deeper level it spoke to my Mistressly pride, which has been rather bruised lately. I know how many hours he spent working on it, and knowing how much actual work he would put into this gesture tells me that I can still count on him, even when it takes real effort. Beyond that he had to learn a new skill (video editing) to do it. Which tells me he's still willing to push past his boundaries, get out of his comfort zone and learn new things for me. These things are vital for the health of our Mistress/slave dynamic. I love him...adore him...and would want to be his friend and lover whether he were my 'slave' or not. But if we are to call this slavery then it has to mean something. I have to feel that he IS going to do his best to obey me, to give me what I want, no matter what I ask for. This demonstration that he's willing to work hard & learn new skills is exactly the proof my wounded heart was longing for.

There are other facets to it as well. I'll be able to use the video as the required monthly update on my clips4sale sites, so it spares me the work and worry of coming up with something myself. In this regard it's a seriously useful gift. I'll have a happy glow all month thinking of how I don't have to do that work thanks to him. And I have loved seeing his delight in not only learning something new, but in feeling like he's good at it. These past months of near-unemployment, being utterly broke and feeling unable to even help with the DIY work, have taken a toll on my pet's self-esteem. It makes my heart sing to see him sparked with gleeful optimism for a change.

I could probably go on all day about how many ways this porn-present delights me. But I have to get back to work; the long haul of turning sandpit manor into a lovely little home(cage) for my pet is not finished and the deadline is looming. But I think we've turned a corner now and for the first time in weeks I am looking toward the end with a heart full of hope instead of despair.

Welcome to Sandpit Manor

My life's taken a radical turn lately, away from domming and mom-ing and into previously uncharted realms of home repair and d.i.y. work. A combination of factors (but mainly us being at the lower end of the 99%) have made it necessary for Tia to move. We've been renting a house together for the past three years, with him living in the main part while I use a converted garage & Florida room as my 'studio'. I'd been doing my pro dom sessions and crossdresser makeovers there, and we shoot our amateur femdom porn all over the house. The plan now is for him to move from this place into a smaller, more affordable one. It's guaranteed to be more affordable because the place he's moving into is a mobile home owned by my husband Izzy.

This seemed like a good idea at the time.

Calling this place a mobile home is really giving it pretensions of grandeur; a trailer is what it is and Izzy and I had affectionately dubbed it 'Sandpit Manor' when we lived there back in the days before children. The moniker became even more apt after we moved out and the place was occupied by my brother. My 20-something pothead slacker brother. And many of his {ahem} artistic friends.

They had some very interesting notions of decor. There were tiny shelves made of scrap lumber scattered randomly all over the place. Every available surface was covered with graffiti. And what repairs were made...well, let's just say duct tape figured heavily in my brother's toolbox. They left the place quite full of junk too: furniture, clothes, a closet full of hundreds of old laserdisks. Some of the more interesting items included 2 bongs, a sack of pipe pieces, a digital postal scale, a deck of naked lady playing cards, and a whole pack of cream cheese under a mattress.

That one really threw me a swerve. Given the lifestyle of the house's inhabitants finding food outside the kitchen was to be expected. And cream cheese in the bedroom? It is a standard breakfast condiment; perhaps someone enjoyed having breakfast in bed. It's also not so far from whipped cream or chocolate sauce; I could even imagine a substitution being made in a moment of intoxicated lust. But what on earth made it seem like a good idea to hide it under the mattress?

I've decided to leave the bowling balls whimsically perched in the trees outside. But between the damage done by its former inhabitants and the normal ravages of age the rest of sandpit manor requires some major repair work. So far we've gutted the bathroom, including tearing out the floor & rebuilding it from the joists up, ripped out several other walls and most of the ceiling, and repaired or replaced every single window crank & light fixture in the place. Well, I say 'we' but the fact is I'm doing 70% of the work myself. Izzy is unavailable to help most days and Tia? While not exactly hopeless in the d.i.y department, he started off not being entirely sure of the difference between a flat and phillips head screwdriver. There's been a real steep learning curve to deal with there.

On the one hand I have become a veritable d.i.y. goddess. I pwned those windows and after rebuilding that rotted floor I feel like there isn't much I couldn't accomplish with the right power tools. For the most part I enjoy this sort of work. And it's a HUGE relief to take a break from all the (draining for me) socializing that goes with my job(s) in the sex industry.

On the other hand, what seemed like a good idea at the time may turn out to be a disaster for my relationship with Tia.

In my fantasies he's prancing around in some super cute booty shorts, striped thigh-high socks and a pink tool belt, happily spackling and fetching things and admiring my prowess with power tools. And I stride around competently getting shit done while taking frequent breaks to sexually harass my underling. In reality things are dirty and sweaty and difficult, with more fumbling and cursing than cheerful competence on my part. The work is physically hard, it's tiring, and thanks to my stupid fibromyalgia it fucking hurts. A lot of the time I don't feel much like a goddess.

Tia's issues don't help. He feels inept and clumsy, and the sheer ickiness of the work offends his fastidiousness mightily. He's depressed about moving at all and the prospect of moving into a run-down trailer with all kinds of repair issues doesn't ameliorate that one bit. He's scared and unhappy and wants to avoid the place...and I'm angry and resentful that he doesn't appreciate it (and me) more...and he's angry that I don't appreciate him more...and the whole thing has turned into a vicious cycle of angst that bubbles up every few days into arguments that seem like they're inevitably going to tear us apart.

It's my birthday today. Because there's still a ton of work to do, and because I'm obsessive about it, and because we have to be so careful with our money I will be spending the day working at sandpit manor. For the moment things are peaceful, loving and happy between me and my pet. But there are weeks and weeks of work to be got through still and I'm scared. It all seems so silly when I write it out like this; why should our love not be able to withstand these petty insecurities? But when the temper takes over and the poisonous arrows of hurt accusation start to fly it's hard to see how any affection could survive.

I just pray that what seemed like a good idea at the time doesn't turn out to be my worst birthday ever.

Maslow's Needs

Regular readers (is there such a thing on this blog?) may have noticed Mistress and I have been kind of quiet on the blog lately and on twitter too to some extent after the big birthday kinkfest that we had back in Feb.

Well, we're not dead, and the blog hasn't been abandoned by any means, we have just been busy spending far too much time in the vanilla world then either of us really care to.

We have both been obeying the law of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. That is, we have been more preoccupied with meeting our physiological and safety needs to indulge in our higher needs of hot kinky sex.

Not that I want to bore anyone with our problems, but the economy has huffed and puffed and finally blown our house of straw down. The company that I work for has cut me down to working 3, maybe 4 days a week if I'm lucky, and as such we cannot afford the studio any longer and I must move, and soon. Mistress has been working very hard at renovating the property I am to move into, and I am *so* proud of her at the work she's doing...and so thankful to her and her husband that it can and has brought me to tears more than once.

I am poor yes, but in terms of those who love me? I am rich beyond compare. Thank you Mistress. Thank you Sir.

So even though I haven't been working on the job much, all the 'free' time I have left has been spent in either helping in the renovations or just trying to get by--looking for extra work, selling things on Ebay, having near-weekly garage sales (all the while hoping that no one looks around my garage and goes, "Hey, wasn't this where Sissy's First Video was filmed? ) trying to divest myself of some possessions that wont fit in the new, smaller place and trying to pay bills. I'm not going to go on and on about it--I know I'm not alone going through a very rough patch right now, and there are plenty of people in worse circumstances than ours. I just felt an explanation of our silence was in order.

So things have been busy, and stressful, and kind of depressing. (and losing my beloved necklace--my daytime collar, didn't help ) All not exactly conductive to hot kinky fun times. I'm hoping that once the renovations are done and the move accomplished that Mistress and I can resume our 'normal' (if such a term can be applied to us) day-to-day life of a loving Femdom-sissy couple.

I'm sure there might be some interest and even serve some kind of purpose about talking frankly about the real life trials and tribulations of being in a Femdom 24/7 (or as best we can) relationship, particularly when real life issues put the stress and strain on the dynamics of the relationship. And Mistress might indeed, for therapeutic value if nothing else might choose to write about that sometime. It might be a good change of pace as opposed to the popular Femdom fantasy stereotype where we are both dressed and doing kinky nasty things to each other every hour of every day--as seems to be the case in nearly all Femdom fiction and in a few reality-challenged blogs. Talking about what couples do when the mojo runs low, and when one is so stressed, scared and depressed that it just seems to overwhelm and darken every waking moment.

You know, the Real World. As opposed to the Fictional Whips & Chains world.

But that is up to Mistress if she wishes to do something like that. I am not up to that task, other than this one blog entry.

I'm off to shower now and go do another day of work on my future home.

--tia

PS. This isn't a PBS Pledge break, don't get me wrong, but if anyone reading IS interested in our videos, or anything else we try to advertise, like Alt Com, well...it would help. Our self-confidence, if nothing else.

Tia's necklace

Tia has lost his necklace, the necklace I gave him which is his ‘everyday’ collar, and he’s devastated.

The necklace was a piece of cheap costume jewelry I’d had since college. There was time when I wore it a lot; it was a small pewter medallion depicting a bird in a tree which seemed like a beautiful representation of the goddess back when I was a practicing pagan. That was long ago though and more recently it’d lain in my jewelry box unworn, except for a brief stint around the neck of tuna bird, a slave I was involved with before tia.

One night in the early stages of our relationship I was telling tia about tuna bird and I impulsively gave him the necklace to wear. After that he pretty much never took it off again. I ordered him to remove it once as a punishment – again, in the early stages of our relationship – and this so traumatized him that I realized such punishment must be reserved for the very worst infractions. The necklace is his collar, the potent symbol and ever-present reminder of our relationship. Of his valued slavehood and my ownership. Not having it, losing it, feels dangerously close to losing the relationship itself.

I, on the other hand, am quite calm about it and even a tiny bit pleased. If I had known what value he was going to place on it I would've chosen more carefully in the first place! I’ve wanted to give him a nicer necklace for a long time but not done so, knowing how resistant he would be to giving up the original. Now I get to go shopping for a necklace/collar chosen especially for him.

Perhaps something like this pink pearl collar. *wickedgrin*

Tweets from sub/domspace

Mistress and I, if you dont already know are on twitter (@LadyErisiana and @slavetia respectively). Mistress posts a lot more
than I do either kinky stuff, articles she finds interesting or just musings. I post mostly smart-ass stuff to make myself laugh. ;p

But sometimes she will tweet in the middle of sceneing and order me to do the same, kind of a geeky way to use technology in my humiliations.

These are a few of our tweets from our recent kinky kidnapping weekend!

@LadyErisiana 2 Feb
In other news it seems I am heading into one of my horny spells. Which bodes well for @slavetia's birthday weekend!

@slavetia 2 Feb
Happy birthday to me! RT @LadyErisiana: I am heading into one of my horny spells. Which bodes well for @slavetia's birthday weekend!

@LadyErisiana 3 Feb
Trying to decide which dreadful things I'm gonna do to @slavetia tomorrow. So many possibilities! evilgrin

@LadyErisiana 3 Feb
As of today @slavetia has been my collared pet for three wonderful years. Here's to many, many more!

@slavetia 3 Feb
sniff I love you Mistress! @LadyErisiana: As of today @slavetia has been my collared pet for three wonderful years.

@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
The birthday plot has commenced! At 3am I snuck in and kidnapped @slavetia..he was bound & gagged & shoved in the back of a van..

@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
And driven out somewhere in bfe where I proceeded to fuck him silly! mwahahahaha

@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
I told that #sissy bitch I would fuck him all night long and I did. evilgrin

@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
And then I fed him donuts. ;D

@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
He's still tied up, lying on the floor next to me now; I've only just begun! #bdsm #romance #rapefantasyweekend

@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
When I put the doughtnut in @slavetia's mouth (he was still blindfolded at the time) he said I'd crossed the line into complete decadence.

@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
But I haven't brought out the beer & bbq yet! cackles

@LadyErisiana 4 Feb
The cackling's cause I plan to make him eat/drink that birthday beer & bbq from a doggie dish on the floor. evilgrin

@slavetia 4 Feb
Last night/today/tonight....Mistress has outdone herself....this kidnapping scene is so hot...powerful...beautiful....takes my breath away

@slavetia 5 Feb
Beer. BBQ. Donuts. Abduction in the middle of the night, driven to some strange house and used every possible way by Mistress for HOURS...

@slavetia 5 Feb
Best. Birthday. Ever.

Happy Birthdayversary (tia's thoughts)

It was without a doubt, the most beautiful BDSM 'scene' I have ever been part of.

I hate to even call it a 'scene', as to me it implies a sense of play-acting and fantasy that doesn't do justice to my relationship with my wonderful Mistress. And while Mistress did role-play a bit with me, to me it was all about submission to her body and soul, and of absolute trust. No acting or role-playing on my part was necessary.

I awoke rather groggily after only probably getting 3 hours of sleep or so to find my Mistress's face in front of mine and a plastic knife to my throat warning me to do as I was told and I wouldn't be hurt. Was I still asleep? Was I dreaming? I was blindfolded, gagged and my hands bound behind my back before I fully knew what was going on, taken outside wearing nothing but a sissy tshirt and frilly ruffled panties...omg Im outside!

I was pushed into what I thought was the trunk of Mistress's car at first before figuring out that it was alot roomier than a trunk, that I must be in the back of my own minivan.

And then the van started to move, increasing the 'holy shit' factor a hundredfold. Where were we going? What time was it? What am I in for?

The car ride seemed to take a long, long time, mostly in silence and the slight pain discomfort from my hands being bound so tightly behind me. I had no idea where we were...so many turns, different road surfaces. I remember thinking we were on a gravel-lined country road at some point because of the way the road sounded and how it the vibration of the car floor felt.

Was this all a massive headfuck? Would I be marched back inside my own house?

I didn't put anything past my Mistress. Had she made arrangements to take me by force to some clinic to receive a very humiliating laser hair removal treatment?
Yes, it was the middle of the night (presumably) but I was still very groggy and disoriented, and, after all, last year for my birthday I had been bound and my ears pierced as a mark of my permanent feminization and enslavement to her. So I wouldnt put anything past this Woman!

Was I to be used and abused somewhere by both Mistress and her husband? (I had thought him in the car with Mistress, and I now shyly confess to being a little disappointed to later discover that he wasnt)

OR...well...for a while now Mistress had been teasing me about finding me a 'boyfriend' or a 'Master' and my wild subbie imaginings wondered if she had really gone and done it: found some strange man on alt com or somewhere and I was about to experience perhaps more forced-bi fantasy than I was actually ready for? The old 'Be careful what you wish for..' saying whispered in my head, sending delicious shivers up and down my spine.

The car stops and we sit there in silence for a bit. Then the rear door opens and I'm helped out of the van (omg I'm outside AGAIN!) and up a few stairs and...and...I guessed where we were at from the short little stairs. Sandpit Manor, my future home.

I'm still kind of disoriented and confused however, as I still don't know what all she has in mind, and where the heck is Mistress's brother? I didn't think he had moved out yet and left the place vacant.

Mistress has written a better account of our night here and it would be foolish of me to try to recount it all over again to our readers, because I know I cannot do a better job.

But I just want to share my thoughts/feelings on it...so much of our play is internalized to me. I kind of bliss out into subspace and let go, and that's exactly what happened. I was used and fucked in so many ways, so many positions, being taken over and over by Mistress and her strap-ons, or being allowed to lick and worship her pussy, or having gizmo (the dildo face harness) strapped to my face and used in such a humiliating and frustrating fashion.

I lost all track of time...I was taken from my sleep, so I was groggy from that, then blindfolded for a long period of time and so deep in subspace that I didn't know if it was day or night or how long I had been kept prisoner and used as a fucktoy over and over and over...my world became one of pure physical sensation, and I drowned in the sensations of it, feeling like I had been reduced to just a sexual animal to be used for my Mistress's pleasure, and that I existed only for that wonderful purpose of pleasing her. My own selfish gratification didn't even enter into it.

And it was....so hot and raw and primal, but...so beautiful at the same time. What I found so beautiful was how well she knows me, and how well she can read me that words were unnecessary even if I had not been gagged. She knew, for instance, when my legs couldn't take a position anymore and I had to move or shift weight. She knew when I was thirsty and had me drink without me saying a word or begging for it. A Mistress and her devoted slave in perfect harmony with each other.

I get a little teary from the joy of it just thinking about it.

I was/am so touched by how much thought, effort and planning was put into it. Every little detail, from my allergy pills to remembering my favorite brand of beer and how I like my BBQ. How much effort she put into providing me with one of the best kinky and hedonistic experiences of my life as a birthday present.

It takes my breath away...

Someone watching us might have only seen the surface details: a hot and actually kind of rough rape/kidnapping scenario but deep down in my heart I knew the truth of it: that this was an act of pure love.

I have never felt so loved, or so owned in my entire life.

Thank you Mistress. I love you more than words can say.

Happy Birthdayversary! (the butterfly emerges)

We ate our feast of bbq and yes, he did drink the beer from the dog dish. (I let him have a second bottle though; I’m such a softie.) Then I was finally ready to let my filthy slut get cleaned up. I stood and tugged at his leash, prompting him to scramble up and follow me on a tour through the house. On closer inspection it delivered more in the way of ‘derelict den of iniquity’ than I could ever have imagined. We are going to have a LOT of work ahead of us to get the place back into decent shape. But eventually we ended up in the bathroom, where a poster of Frank Zappa on the toilet watched as I stripped my sissy down and ordered him into the shower.

He shivered as he stood there naked while I fumbled with the pliers that were necessary to turn the water on. Then he yelped and jumped away when the spray hit him. “Oops, I guess I forgot to mention that the hot water heater is broken too!” I chirped with malicious glee. My fanatically fastidious pet finished his shower in record time and I had to laugh when I saw how careful he was to not wet anything that didn’t absolutely have to be washed. I was not such a pansy when it was my turn; after the first shock of cold the water felt good against my heated flesh.

When we’d finished bathing it was time to complete the feminine transformation of my pretty pet. I fastened the collar around his neck and led her, still naked & shivering, back to the living room. There I dug around in my duffel bag until I found the outfit I wanted: a pretty babydoll nightie, with stockings and panties to match. The fabric of the nightie was sheer ivory georgette accented with black and red. The underwire bra that made up the bodice had miniscule black polka dots, while the skirt that fell from the empire waist was decorated with pairs of black pinstripes running like pleats down to a slight ruffle at the hem. The entire thing was trimmed with narrow black lace and tiny, strategically placed red satin bows.

I chose black fishnet thigh-highs to go with it although that violates our usual ‘black is for dommes, not sissies’ rule. Dressing Tia up is truly like dressing a giant living Barbie doll for me, expressing my inner fashionista, and the aesthetic demands of the OUTFIT take precedence over mere D/s protocols. (And besides, I know what black fishnets do to my leg-loving sissy, and I wanted to push every possible button in that slavish mind.) Next came breastforms, the big DD cup jahoobies, and the finishing touch: sheer red panties, decorated with red velvet dots and tied at the sides with red satin ribbons.

Practically like a great big red bullseye now that I think about it, hehehe!

I slipped her new heels back on her feet and fastened the red suede shackles back around her wrists and ankles. Now it was time for makeup. I took my time, carefully painting her eyelids in shimmering shades of pale aqua and mint, lining them with a glittery purple and adding black mascara and long fake lashes. I used a crimson stain to outline her mouth, giving pouty fullness to her lips, and added sheer red cherry-flavored gloss for sexy shine. A light dusting of blush on her cheeks and there she was, my beautiful porcelain-skinned sissy slavedoll.

This would be the time for her to don a wig, and I know she feels prettier and more feminine when I let her wear one, but I haven’t been fussy about the way she gets her hair cut for no reason. And my insistence on gradually adjusting her style to a more androgynous one pays off at times like these, when I want her to look perfectly pretty but still want to be able to pull the fuck out of her hair. I selected a matching headband decorated with pearly beads, settled it on her head, and her style was instantly transformed into a gamine pixie cut.

Once she was completely dressed I just couldn’t stop staring at her, she looked soo beautiful. Sparkling, mischievous blue eyes batting long lashes at me…pouting red lips made for kissing…silky curls begging to be touched…those legs, those gorgeous curvy legs in the slutty black stockings and heels..and omg that ASS. And looking and looking at all that soft pretty femininity made me want to sully it.

I ordered her down on her knees and reached for gizmo again. This time before I strapped it around her head I made her suck the longer dildo end. And as she sucked I gave a running commentary, telling her what a good little cocksucker she’d become and how very pretty she looked while doing it. Telling her how much I loved shoving my dick down her throat, and up her ass, and every other place I could violate her with it. Rubbing it in her face and making HER tell me how much she loved being raped in every possible way by me, how much she loved being my depraved fuckdoll, how she wanted to be my sissy slavegirl forever.

Finally I strapped the gizmo around her head and pulled her to me. I leaned back into the sofa cushions and guided the dildo into my wet pussy. For a few moments I just watched her head bobbing between my legs. She looked so helpless, so bound and servile..the raped & broken fuckslave of my most perverted fantasies. What an incredible thrill it was to have taken her like this, used her like this. What a thrill it was to own her. Then I closed my eyes, moved one hand to my clit and the other to my recently pierced nipple, and began to wank off again.

I came again, far too quickly. And afterwards we slept, both of us exhausted by the exertions of the day.

Happpy Birthdayversary! (decadance ensues)

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)

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)

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!

Getting It Out Of My System

Recently I've had my hours cut back at work to such an extent that its getting very difficult to get by. So I'm looking around for new or additional work, polishing up my resume, working on cover letters.

Dancing the Dance of Bullshit, as I like to call it. You know what I'm talking about--saying things like, "I am a results-driven team player who holds himself up to the highest standard..." yadda yadda yadda. Trying to talk in professional/corporate weenie-speak.

And I can't stand talking like that, so stuffy and dishonest and artifical.

So I have to get the following out of my system, the cover letter I WISH I could send these HR bastards.

Dear Sir or Madam:

I am interested in the XX position with your company.

I am currently living in a van down by the river, existing only upon my own body vermin that I share dwellings with. It isn’t pleasant. I don’t much care for it. I need a real job.

Actually, that’s a lie. I don’t want a job per se. Its work, isn’t it? If it was something I wanted to do, like cover several naked and blonde Valkyrie Goddesses with chocolate syrup and lick every glorious inch clean, that would be fun, and not work.

And since our society is so backward in that we only get paid for things that we really don't want to do, (i.e work), I come to you.

I’m sure you didn’t want your job either: let’s be honest with ourselves and say that we’re only in for the money--the root of all evil.

As much as I despise this capitalistic, money-grubbing, career ladder ascending society in which we live in I must confess that when you have to barbeque your own body lice to survive, there’s something to be said for an hourly wage. Drug dealers will not take credit, after all.

And, to make matters more urgent, the doctors say if I sell any more of my precious bodily fluids I might not make it, and so they won’t let me do it any more.

Hire me or I will follow you and hunt you down wherever you go. I will find what you love most in the world and kick it in the crotch. Your mother, your child, your dog, I don’t care. I’m eating goddamn fleas for crying out loud.

And when the grand glorious Revolution comes and the capitalist running dogs are put up against the wall and shot, I will put in a good word for you and thus keep you from being offed with the rest of the pigs. That is, if you give me this job I want. Or just the money. I don’t even need to come to the office, really, and considering the smell in this van you might not want me in the office anyway.

I can provide many glowing references from my current place of underpaid, underappreciated employment (I like to call it Hell), because there’s an office pool as to when I’ll snap and kill someone and I think they’ll say a lot of nice things just to see me go.

And if they don’t say anything nice, please, let me know. Someone might just win that pool after all.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,

My Nipple Piercing New Year

The deed, which I have planned and anticipated for so long, is finally done. And here I will let the video speak for me...

It's now been two weeks since I had them done, and I have come to the conclusion that the greatest threat to their still-owie healing state is from my own arms. I never before realized how often I whack myself in the boobs with them. :-p

Sleeping Violation

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.

Its Official: God Exists.

I consider this a sign that there IS a God after all, and that he loves us kinky geeky types very much indeed!

A SCI FI BROTHEL IN VEGAS.

I MUST GO!

It is a Moral Imperative. Or an Immoral Imperative, if you prefer!

A Sissy's Holiday

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!