Mistress Samantha

Once my feminine desires were out in the open, my entire life changed. I'm not sure how Sami really felt about everything at that time, but I can testify to one thing -- she didn't let any misgivings get in her way. As it turns out, Sami was a natural born Mistress. She took to female domination like I would later take to sucking cock.

Between work, obligations, and being a newly discovered sissy slut, the rest of my first week as a sissy husband was pretty much upside down. Sami . . . I mean Mistress, required that I wear panties, bra, garter and stockings under my business suit everyday to work. She also insisted that I dress in front of her each morning. She seemed to enjoy teasing me about what a "feminine little sissy" I was, and how cute my "little clitty looked in panties." She also got a kick out of slapping my panty-covered bottom and musing out loud about how "fuckable my little sissy ass" was.

My days at work were quite stressful too, not only because of the increased likelihood of detection as a result of wearing a bra, but also because Mistress found it so much fun to call on the phone and tease me. I would answer and without so much as a "Hello," she would whisper, "Tell me, Bitch — are your panties wet?"

I naturally reacted, "Sami, I'm at work."

"I know where you are, Bitch! And unless you want everyone to know what a cock-loving little slut you are, you'll call me by my proper name . . . I'm waiting . . ."

Totally flushed and red, I quietly complied, "I'm sorry Mistress. Please forgive me."

"So, are your fucking panties wet?"

"No, Mistress," I answered softly.

"No, what . . . Bitch?"

Oh my god, she just had to push it. My heart raced at the thought of somebody hearing, but I knew I would continue to comply, regardless of the danger. "No, Mistress, my panties aren’t wet," I whispered.

"Now, that's a good sissy . . . but are you sure your panties are dry?"

"We both know how hard your little clitty gets when you wear panties. Is it hard now sissy?"

"I asked you a question . . ."

"No Mistress," I replied, as I looked around to see who might be near.

"You're starting to piss me off Bitch! You know what kind of answer I want, so stop fucking around!" Sami was losing patience with me, but my work environment in a cubicle was very open to eavesdropping, and she knew it. She kept me continuously caught between fear and arousal.

"I'm sorry Mistress," speaking as quietly as possible. My heart raced as I continued, "No, my clitty isn't hard."

"Now, that wasn't so difficult, was it?"

So went each day that week. Mistress Samantha called every day, often several times. She teased me every time she called and always made me say things that increased my chances of detection. She made me unzip my pants to check for wetness and pull my pants cuffs up to expose my stockings, anything she could think of to tease, disrupt and embarrass me. Her favorite tease was to taunt, "Poor little sissy, sitting at work with nothing to suck on. Does sissy need some cock?" She would make me suck on my finger and tell her how I craved cock.

At the beginning of the week, I was scared to death that somebody was going to find out that I was a panty clad fairy, but as the days went by, I was more scared of how I had totally submitted to the situation. Sure, I was still afraid of being caught, but I didn't even think twice any longer about my wife, now Mistress, knowing what a wannabe cocksucker I was. She knew, so why try to hide it? At any rate, whether I was wet or not when she called, I always was when she hung up.

If those days were arousingly stressful, the evenings that week were nearly unbearable. I was to get home before Mistress each day and be prepared for her arrival. My work clothes were to be shed, my makeup applied, the house straightened, and I was to meet her at the door, fully dressed with a drink in my hand. Fortunately, Mistress worked long days, so this wasn't a terrible problem.

So, I rushed home after work and was quick to get dolled up every day. I had collected a nice wardrobe, and it was actually fun picking out what I'd wear each evening. I had never really had the chance to dress day after day before.

Since I love short, very tight, skirts — that's where I always began. Each day, I pulled my trousers off and replaced them with a clingy skirt that just barely covered the tops of my stockings. I'd then fill my d-cup bra out with heavy silicone breasts and find a matching blouse. Once I slipped my feet into some strappy heels, at least 4 inch, I'd become totally enraptured with my own femininity.

It's hard to explain to anyone who isn't a sissy, just how intoxicating the feel of femininity can be. From the snug encasement of silk stockings on smooth shaven legs, to the sensual sliding of a tight skirt over satin panties on nice round ass, feminine is sexy! The feeling of heavy breasts, the sight of shapely calves in delicate high heels, the soft caress of air blowing under your skirt, the light click of heels on a hardwood floor . . . only another sissy can really appreciate the thrill. And only another sissy knows the arousal of painting your nails, or understands how lipstick makes you want to scream that you're a "horney slut!" If you're a sissy, then you know the shortness of breath that comes from swishing to the mirror and beholding the slut who looks back. Yes, we're a twisted lot, but that's because it takes a sissy to appreciate the divinity of femininity.

Looking like a slut but feeling like a princess, I met Mistress Samantha at the door as ordered each and every day that week. I listened for her car, and when I heard her pull up, I minced across the hardwood, clickity swish, my skirt too tight to move my legs far, and opened the door. Dressed, made up and perfumed, I reached out with her martini, "Your drink Mistress."

I had become her slave overnight, her special sissy slave. I hardly resisted at all anymore. After all, what was the use? There was no more pretending. She was a beautiful, sexy woman, with round firm breasts, long shapely legs, a tiny waist and the best fucking ass on the planet. She was drop dead gorgeous in a sweat suit, and she was my superior. I gladly took my place as a limp wristed submissive, a little candy ass sissy. I was thankful that Mistress had not kicked me out on the street and told everyone what a perverted little sissy faggot I was. I was happy to please her and do her bidding.

Owning a slave was one thing, but Mistress wasn't a masochist, so she brought dinner home with her each night. She would later have me learn some cooking, but it didn’t start that way. That first week, I put things away, did the plating and served Mistress at the dining table. Then I was dismissed to the kitchen and allowed to eat. Of course, I wasn't allowed much time and would be called back into service. More drinks, clear the table, wash, clean up and then to my knees to massage Mistress' feet.

Every evening that week ended with my oral worship of Mistress' divine femininity. A willing slave, I gladly spent the time on my stocking covered knees with my face buried in my wife's wet pussy. She drove me wild with her teases and taunts, always stressing what a perverted little cunt I was, and how I could never satisfy her with my tiny little clitty. But even in that context of pathetic sissified uselessness, I found pride in the fact that I could bring Mistress to multiple orgasms. I was thrilled to listen to her moan and scream, and I reveled in the taste of her juices and the crushing pressure of her legs clamped around my head.

But as the week drew to a close, I had not been allowed another orgasm, in spite of being brought close several times. I knew that I couldn't go on that way for much longer, and I hoped that Mistress would allow my release sometime soon. I hoped, but the truth is that Mistress had totally ignored my stimulation all week and had warned me not to touch myself, forbidding me to cum without her permission.

I did as I was told. I was her sissy bitch, and I served at her disposal. I didn’t question my Mistress.

Kisses

All Alone on the Road

I am working on writing a new post where I'll continue to tell you the story of my personal descent in total submissive sissy faggotry. But in the meantime, I had a night alone in a hotel (it's been awhile). I also had a small webcam for the first time . . . so, can you guess what I did?

And I did do my duty and licked up my mess. I'm such a pathetic little cunt . . .

Next time maybe I'll show more prep time, like my plugging. Anyway, this video stuff is all new to me. Please excuse the poor quality.

Kisses

Sami's Turn

"Say thank you, Sweetie. You do love your treat, don't you?"

"Yes Sami. Thank you so much," I squeaked as I continued to lick her hand clean.

"Don't miss a drop," Sami teased, as she turned her palm down, offering me the cummy dribble that had spilled onto the back of her hand.

Still lost in the reverie of all that had happened and not wanting it to end, I hungrily licked her outstretched finger. She pushed it through my lips and pressed it to the back of my tongue. My lips automatically tightened around the base of her digit, and I sucked it clean as she pulled it free.

With the other hand still holding the dildo, Sami brought it to my mouth once again. She pressed it to my lips, but as I started to take it in, she slid it, first to my cheek and then under my chin. With a steady pressure, Sami then lifted my head with the plastic cock until I was looking at her. We looked into each other's eyes. She slowly shook her head, tightened her lips, and then, CRACK!

The force of her hand striking my face knocked me back off my heels and onto my butt.

"You fucking asshole!" she screamed.

"You make me fucking sick!"

"Get the fuck back up here," she yelled as she reached for me. Grabbing hold of my hair, she jerked me onto my knees. I was dumfounded by the sudden change and had no idea what was going on or what set her off.

She held my head up by my hair, so that we were again locked eye to eye, "What kind of man dresses like a whore and cums at the thought of sucking cock?"

Looking straight into my eyes, "What kind of man willingly laps up cum and then says thank you?"

I had no answer. "What kind of man?" The answer was simple -- no kind of "man." Only a submissive little sissy like me would behave this way. Only a ridiculous little panty wearing cocksucker.

"I don't know Sami. I'm so sorry . . . a man like me, I guess."

"A man like you?" she said with a laugh. Pulling even harder on my hair, "Who the fuck are you trying to kid?" she asked, not expecting an answer.

"You're not a man!"

"Men don't suck cock. They get sucked!"

"You're nothing but a little sissy faggot, a weak, feminine sissy cocksucker."

Sami let go of my hair, and I crumpled. She hadn't told me anything I didn't already know, but still the realization of all that had happened was beginning to sink in. Driven by my desire, I had allowed Sami to witness the real me. She had not only seen me wearing stockings and heels. But now, she not only knew that I liked to be made up like a whore but that I liked to suck cock like one too. She had watched as I eagerly sucked on a big plastic cock, even taken its entire length down my throat, and twice in as many days, my dear wife had watched as I sucked and savored my own cum.

What a pathetic misfit I was. I had a beautiful wife, one who any man would give his left nut to be with, and I had totally let her down.

With my eyes cast to the floor, I knelt in the shame only a sissy can know. Sitting back, my legs bent, heels tucked up under me, I looked down at myself. Even in this situation, just looking at my smooth shaven legs, all adorned in silk stockings, gave me such a twinge. As always, my little sissy clit was tucked between my legs, giving the appearance of total femininity. I drew my hands along my legs, drinking in the wonderful sensation of soft feminine thighs.

I awoke from my brief moment of being lost in my femininity and spotted Sami's pretty feet. Her toes were perfectly shaped, and the bright pink polish only accentuated their beauty. Without thinking, I bent forward and started kissing her toes.

"I'm so sorry Sami. You're right, I'm not a man," I apoligized as I pressed my lips to her foot and peppered it with kisses. "How can I ever make this up to you?" I asked, holding her delicate ankle in my hands and kissing it gently.

Sami didn't pull her foot away, which told me that she must approve, at least to some extent. So, I continued. Placing both hands on the floor, kneeling almost flat, I kissed first one foot and then the other, "I'll do anything Sami. Please forgive me."

"Lick my toes sissy," Sami ordered softly.

My kisses immediately turned to licking. I pressed my tongue between her toes and enjoyed the taste of her skin. As I mixed kisses and tongue, slavishly worshipping my wife's womanly feet, Sami pivoted around and sat on the bed. I turned to follow her, not missing a beat, and she lifted her foot.

"Suck sissy. You like to suck. Pretend it's a little cock, a little sissy cock like yours," she purred.

I took her big toe into my mouth, pressing my tongue against it as I sucked on it and then slowly released it again. I took two toes, three, into my mouth. I licked and kissed and sucked, intent on showing Sami my devotion, my total submission to her female superiority.

"Maybe there is some use for you after all," Sami cooed.

"You are an obedient bitch. I'll give you that."

"My legs sissy. Kiss my legs." And I gladly starting kissing her ankles, her calves.

"Higher sweetie. Higher now."

I could tell Sami was enjoying our scene as much as I was. She began to breath more heavily, and I took the cue to start to carress and massage her as I worked up her legs. I slid my tongue along her inner thigh and moved my hands to cup the firm cheeks of her fine ass.

"That's it bitch. You're going to make your Mistress cum. Yes."

"Burry your nose in my panties slut," she ordered.

"Do you still like pussy . . . or does only big hard cock turn you on?"

Her scent was intoxicating. It had been so long since I had tasted her juices. I wanted her pussy and I wanted it badly.

"I asked you a question, slut! Do you like pussy? Do you want to make your Mistress cum?"

"Oh yes, Sami. Yes I do. So much!"

"Hmmm, that's a good sissy," Sami said in reply. She then took a handful of my hair and pulled my face from between her legs. "But I don't want you calling me Sami anymore. I am your Mistress, and that's how you'll refer to me. Do you understand?"

"Yes Mistress," I replied, and she released my hair, allowing me to return my face to her lap.

"Remove my panties, sissy."

I reached up with my hand, and she slapped it down. "With your teeth bitch!" So, I did as I was told and bit down on her panties, first on one side and then on the other, slowly tugging them and pulling them down. As I got them to her knees, she lifted her leg up and slipped her foot out.

"Smell the crotch bitch. That's it. Now come and get the real thing!"

I didn't hesitate for a second. I dove straight in, spreading her lips with my fingers as I licked for her clit. She was already wet, which was a good sign, so I sucked her clitty into my mouth and gently applied my tongue to start. As Sami started writhing and moaning, I knew I was doing something right.

"That's it bitch. Suck my clitty. Make me cum, slut!"

Her gyrations increased as I frantically lashed at her most female parts. Using my tongue to lick and probe, I lavished her womanhood with all that I had.

"Your fingers, slut. Fill my pussy!" she demanded.

I placed first one finger, and then another, probing inside her moist cavity as I continued to lick and suck her swollen clit.

"Yes . . . yes . . . yes," Mistress cried, now writhing, clinching, moaning.

I knew she was close to cumming and picked up the pace to a full pussy lapping frenzy.

"Burry your face BITCH! Do it NOW!" she yelled, clamping her strong thighs around my head. She grabbed my head and forced my face into her wet pussy. I felt her shiver and squirm as she repeatedly clamped down on me. She raised her knees, pulling them toward her breast, and she squeezed, as hard as she could, at the same time pulling my face deeper with both hands.

I gladly drank her juices.

"Oh my god!" she screamed.

And she finally released me, falling back onto the bed.

"Yes, there just may be some use for you after all," she mused, her eyes closed, now lying comfortably on her back.

"Hmmm, my very own little sissy bitch slave . . ."

"Would you like that sweetie?"

"Will you be my obedient little bitch?"



Kisses