Yoü can´t decide

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Yoü can´t decide”He’s here, Sissy- answer the door,” she calls confidently from thedining room where I just poured her a glass of wine.I steel myself for the humiliating ritual that’s been perfected throughrote repetition- though the number of times it’s performed, like everyother degradation I suffer through on a daily basis, does little tolessen the sheer gut punch of the act of pure submission.I open the front door and step back to allow Sir through, my gazedowncast as not to make the punishable offense of eye contact. In mymind, the ridiculousness of this situation is heightened as he’s quite afew years younger than me, not particularly well muscled, and not evenas tall as me in flats, let alone the 5″ inch stiletto heels constantlyrequired of me.But while he’s wearing a trendy button up shirt and simple slacks, I’mattired in a ridiculous ensemble that’s more petticoats and ribbons thansatin dress material.I used to wear mostly black and detested over the top feminineaccoutrements- so of course Mistress declared that my particular sissystyle would be what she giggling referred to as “l****a BarbiePrincess”.My entire wardrobe now consisted of mid-thigh length dresses andappropriate accessories in various shades of pink; from Pale toElectric.My naturally straight dark hair was dyed and exhaustively maintainedplatinum blonde, curled with pink highlights and held with ribbons intothe occasional ponytail, or, more likely (like today), high pigtailsthat framed either side of my face in a mass of bimbo blonde curls thatannoyingly flip into my eyes whenever I turn my head.Of course I have to maintain full, overdone makeup at all times, and mydesigner framed eyeglasses were replaced with sky blue contact lens.Today’s outfit was a particularly frilly dress with puffy organza shortsleeves and two full petticoats peeking out from the hem. Slightlybeneath that are the bow tipped stockings that highlight my smooth legsand dainty ankles, my feet encased and contorted in pink patent highheels laced shut with sheer ribbons.Both my hands are adorned in silk, lace lined fingerless mittens.Despite the physical superiority I would have felt over this man inanother life, now our roles were universally clear. Unfortunately, it’snot just the outrageous clothing I wore, but the enforced behavior thatcemented my role.I immediately curtseyed deeply, a ridiculously revised one Mistresstaught me that consisted of exaggerated movements and a deep bow thatshowed off my enhanced cleavage. In addition, I grabbed the frontportion of my hem and petticoats in each hand, lifting it so my tiny,inescapable titanium chastity device was on full display to him, it’sintegrated PA piercing securely compressing my once proud seven inchesto a mere inch and a quarter.Panties for me was forbidden so that my emasculated state could alwaysbe shown easily when required, which was often.When Sir had expressed concern over another “man” living under her roof,Mistress brutally trained me to increase my submission to him, whichincluded this completely degrading Greeting ritual. In addition, theonly key to the device, which she had once proudly worn around her neck,was replaced with a ceremonial, decorative one.The real key, a specialized hand forged affair, was given to me for thefirst time in over three years – so that I may immediately and tearfullypresent it to Sir on the same platter I delivered wine and condoms toMistress with.He had laughingly taken it with the smuggest expression- the same one Isensed he had now as I mentally counted to three as I struggled tomaintain my curtsey and expression.Despite being a former Mensa member, Mistress insisted my IQ was 85- assuch I must always maintain a vacant, doe eyed stare and a wide,simpering smile.After three seconds I straightened, just long enough to sink steadilydown to my knees. Slowly clasping each elbow behind my back, thencrossing my ankles, (“No rushing, Sissy!”) I knelt down, curls fallingin my face, to kiss the top of each of his black wingtips – two secondsof contact exactly with my pursed, moist and colored lips on each shoe.Still staring at his shoes, I slowly straighten up until I’m backupright on my knees before performing the next act of my choreographedsissified submission. I slowly and deliberately unclasp my arms and bring them up to my sideslike I’m nothing more than a mechanical doll, elbows tucked in againstmy slender, tightly corseted waistline, wrists limp at shoulder height,fingers spread outwards to show off my pretty polish. (“SissyPresentation Pose”, for Two seconds.)Then my right hand comes to my mouth so I can “hide” a practiced,nervously high pitched giggle into my straightened fingertips as my gazeshyly darts between his shoes and the zipper of his pants. (Threeseconds.)Then both my arms are back into Sissy Presentation (one second) beforefinally transitioning into “Sissy Princess”, where I bend bayburt rus escort my wrists up,both palms facing outwards, finger tips ever so slightly curled in- adainty pose familiar to Disney lovers everywhere. But the Disney comparison ends there as, arms still prissily posed, Ibite the corner of my lower lip and hesitatingly lean forward slightlyto gently place my nose against the bulge in his slacks, then morefirmly as I slowly nuzzle and giggle, while occasionally inhaling hismusky scent deeply and sighing with wonton lust. (“Fifteen full secondsSissy, and not a moment less!”) He rests his hands confidently on his hips, (Superman style, in strictopposition to my Sissy Submission) as I feel his member stir and thengrow under his pants, and while mentally counting I reflect on how muchI HATE this and ohmygod how did I let this happen and I’m going to punchhim in his smug face and……And then, still nuzzling, I direct my gaze up as I plant a kiss onthe thin material covering his hardened manhood- the only time I’mallowed to make eye contact is with a penis or semen in the vicinity ofmy mouth.And my wide, faux blue eyes maintain his arrogant, sneering gaze, hisfirm crotch hot against my lips as I lean back a bit and look up to facehim, force a smile, and gigglingly dart the tip of my tongue out toplayfully touch his bulge for a moment as I make my eyes sparklenaughtily and wink like this is our little secret……I want the Earth to open up and swallow me whole, to put an end tothis miserable spectacle of sissy servitude that I had in a way helpedcreate, that I had at one point SOUGHT OUT, a game I nearly had to forcemy beautiful, formerly sweet and innocent girlfriend to partake in whichhas spun completely out of control…But of course, the Earth doesn’t open up. Instead, I feel anotherpowerful stirring, this one within my chastity device, and I’m remindedwhat put me on the path that lead me here. At the moment, I’m wearingthis ridiculous outfit, pathetically forcing a pose that took months ofpractice, tongue out, smiling prissily on my knees before the man Iwould be intimately catering to later in the evening to physicallyprepare him to make rough love to my former girlfriend, to which I wasnow an unpaid maid and source of endless amusement for. …The same man I would be allowed to, a few times a year, beg for himto unlock my cage and let me masturbate in some degrading way of theirchoosing……The man who’s watched Mistress serve me his spent cum in all mannerof humiliating ways- most recently by “allowing” me to pour his usedcondoms on to my tear streaked but always smiling upturned face, which Ithen delicately and diligently collected and sucked and kissed off mypinky tips, endlessly moaning and lisping my thanks for the “wonderfulgift” as they laughed at my disgusting display…And I’m brought back to the present again as a gush of sissy juicesquirts out of my cage, trailing slowly down my thigh- my forced smileturning into an O as an unrehearsed moan escapes my lips and a tiny fullbody spasm partially unbalances me for a moment.My cheeks flush anew as Sir sees my body betray me in the most intimateway, and I know being a pathetic sissy is exactly what I deserve to be.My training takes over as I know exactly what to do during all toofrequent leakages like this, and the consequences if I don’t.”Oopsies!” I lisp loudly in shocked surprise, touching my index fingerto my cheekbone, downcasting my eyes again with a giggle. “Pardon me,Sir, but your-” (I almost choke on the words) “-magnificent cock hascaused this sluts pathetic dolly to leak it’s worthless, naughty fluidagain. Please allow me a moment to freshen up!” One arm stillridiculously posed in the air, the other hand comes down, scooping upthe slimy trail on my thigh with a long painted nail before sucklingmost of it up into my mouth, rolling on my tongue before swallowingloudly. The last bit gets quickly pat on my pursed lips with a smackingkiss. “Ding! Hehehe! There, all gone where it belongs!”I then fluidly return to my heavily arched feet, all efficiency now as Itake his coat. “Sir, Mistress awaits you in the dining room, Sir,” Isay, lisping excitedly. (“A good sissy is always flamboyantly happy!”)It’s then that I finally get to close the front door, stopping dead fora moment when I catch the laughing gaze of the nosy, gossiping womanacross the street who is well aware of the pathetic neighborhood sissy,but probably just got to witness this full, pathetic spectacle for thefirst time.Hearing my Mistresses demand for more wine I hurriedly shut the door,hang the coat, assume Sissy Presentation Pose, and totter quickly andpurposely to the kitchen.–Alexia here! I’m on the lookout for real life suitable sissies to trainremotely- check out my previous work ‘So You Want to Be Broken’ for moredetails. I understand that some bayburt rus escort bayan sissies can’t commit to that kind offull, consensual blackmail enforced lifestyle change, and may considerless strict training.”He’s here, Sissy- answer the door,” she calls confidently from thedining room where I just poured her a glass of wine.I steel myself for the humiliating ritual that’s been perfected throughrote repetition- though the number of times it’s performed, like everyother degradation I suffer through on a daily basis, does little tolessen the sheer gut punch of the act of pure submission.I open the front door and step back to allow Sir through, my gazedowncast as not to make the punishable offense of eye contact. In mymind, the ridiculousness of this situation is heightened as he’s quite afew years younger than me, not particularly well muscled, and not evenas tall as me in flats, let alone the 5″ inch stiletto heels constantlyrequired of me.But while he’s wearing a trendy button up shirt and simple slacks, I’mattired in a ridiculous ensemble that’s more petticoats and ribbons thansatin dress material.I used to wear mostly black and detested over the top feminineaccoutrements- so of course Mistress declared that my particular sissystyle would be what she giggling referred to as “l****a BarbiePrincess”.My entire wardrobe now consisted of mid-thigh length dresses andappropriate accessories in various shades of pink; from Pale toElectric.My naturally straight dark hair was dyed and exhaustively maintainedplatinum blonde, curled with pink highlights and held with ribbons intothe occasional ponytail, or, more likely (like today), high pigtailsthat framed either side of my face in a mass of bimbo blonde curls thatannoyingly flip into my eyes whenever I turn my head.Of course I have to maintain full, overdone makeup at all times, and mydesigner framed eyeglasses were replaced with sky blue contact lens.Today’s outfit was a particularly frilly dress with puffy organza shortsleeves and two full petticoats peeking out from the hem. Slightlybeneath that are the bow tipped stockings that highlight my smooth legsand dainty ankles, my feet encased and contorted in pink patent highheels laced shut with sheer ribbons.Both my hands are adorned in silk, lace lined fingerless mittens.Despite the physical superiority I would have felt over this man inanother life, now our roles were universally clear. Unfortunately, it’snot just the outrageous clothing I wore, but the enforced behavior thatcemented my role.I immediately curtseyed deeply, a ridiculously revised one Mistresstaught me that consisted of exaggerated movements and a deep bow thatshowed off my enhanced cleavage. In addition, I grabbed the frontportion of my hem and petticoats in each hand, lifting it so my tiny,inescapable titanium chastity device was on full display to him, it’sintegrated PA piercing securely compressing my once proud seven inchesto a mere inch and a quarter.Panties for me was forbidden so that my emasculated state could alwaysbe shown easily when required, which was often.When Sir had expressed concern over another “man” living under her roof,Mistress brutally trained me to increase my submission to him, whichincluded this completely degrading Greeting ritual. In addition, theonly key to the device, which she had once proudly worn around her neck,was replaced with a ceremonial, decorative one.The real key, a specialized hand forged affair, was given to me for thefirst time in over three years – so that I may immediately and tearfullypresent it to Sir on the same platter I delivered wine and condoms toMistress with.He had laughingly taken it with the smuggest expression- the same one Isensed he had now as I mentally counted to three as I struggled tomaintain my curtsey and expression.Despite being a former Mensa member, Mistress insisted my IQ was 85- assuch I must always maintain a vacant, doe eyed stare and a wide,simpering smile.After three seconds I straightened, just long enough to sink steadilydown to my knees. Slowly clasping each elbow behind my back, thencrossing my ankles, (“No rushing, Sissy!”) I knelt down, curls fallingin my face, to kiss the top of each of his black wingtips – two secondsof contact exactly with my pursed, moist and colored lips on each shoe.Still staring at his shoes, I slowly straighten up until I’m backupright on my knees before performing the next act of my choreographedsissified submission. I slowly and deliberately unclasp my arms and bring them up to my sideslike I’m nothing more than a mechanical doll, elbows tucked in againstmy slender, tightly corseted waistline, wrists limp at shoulder height,fingers spread outwards to show off my pretty polish. (“SissyPresentation Pose”, for Two seconds.)Then my right hand comes to my mouth so I can “hide” a practiced,nervously high pitched giggle rus escort bayburt into my straightened fingertips as my gazeshyly darts between his shoes and the zipper of his pants. (Threeseconds.)Then both my arms are back into Sissy Presentation (one second) beforefinally transitioning into “Sissy Princess”, where I bend my wrists up,both palms facing outwards, finger tips ever so slightly curled in- adainty pose familiar to Disney lovers everywhere. But the Disney comparison ends there as, arms still prissily posed, Ibite the corner of my lower lip and hesitatingly lean forward slightlyto gently place my nose against the bulge in his slacks, then morefirmly as I slowly nuzzle and giggle, while occasionally inhaling hismusky scent deeply and sighing with wonton lust. (“Fifteen full secondsSissy, and not a moment less!”) He rests his hands confidently on his hips, (Superman style, in strictopposition to my Sissy Submission) as I feel his member stir and thengrow under his pants, and while mentally counting I reflect on how muchI HATE this and ohmygod how did I let this happen and I’m going to punchhim in his smug face and……And then, still nuzzling, I direct my gaze up as I plant a kiss onthe thin material covering his hardened manhood- the only time I’mallowed to make eye contact is with a penis or semen in the vicinity ofmy mouth.And my wide, faux blue eyes maintain his arrogant, sneering gaze, hisfirm crotch hot against my lips as I lean back a bit and look up to facehim, force a smile, and gigglingly dart the tip of my tongue out toplayfully touch his bulge for a moment as I make my eyes sparklenaughtily and wink like this is our little secret……I want the Earth to open up and swallow me whole, to put an end tothis miserable spectacle of sissy servitude that I had in a way helpedcreate, that I had at one point SOUGHT OUT, a game I nearly had to forcemy beautiful, formerly sweet and innocent girlfriend to partake in whichhas spun completely out of control…But of course, the Earth doesn’t open up. Instead, I feel anotherpowerful stirring, this one within my chastity device, and I’m remindedwhat put me on the path that lead me here. At the moment, I’m wearingthis ridiculous outfit, pathetically forcing a pose that took months ofpractice, tongue out, smiling prissily on my knees before the man Iwould be intimately catering to later in the evening to physicallyprepare him to make rough love to my former girlfriend, to which I wasnow an unpaid maid and source of endless amusement for. …The same man I would be allowed to, a few times a year, beg for himto unlock my cage and let me masturbate in some degrading way of theirchoosing……The man who’s watched Mistress serve me his spent cum in all mannerof humiliating ways- most recently by “allowing” me to pour his usedcondoms on to my tear streaked but always smiling upturned face, which Ithen delicately and diligently collected and sucked and kissed off mypinky tips, endlessly moaning and lisping my thanks for the “wonderfulgift” as they laughed at my disgusting display…And I’m brought back to the present again as a gush of sissy juicesquirts out of my cage, trailing slowly down my thigh- my forced smileturning into an O as an unrehearsed moan escapes my lips and a tiny fullbody spasm partially unbalances me for a moment.My cheeks flush anew as Sir sees my body betray me in the most intimateway, and I know being a pathetic sissy is exactly what I deserve to be.My training takes over as I know exactly what to do during all toofrequent leakages like this, and the consequences if I don’t.”Oopsies!” I lisp loudly in shocked surprise, touching my index fingerto my cheekbone, downcasting my eyes again with a giggle. “Pardon me,Sir, but your-” (I almost choke on the words) “-magnificent cock hascaused this sluts pathetic dolly to leak it’s worthless, naughty fluidagain. Please allow me a moment to freshen up!” One arm stillridiculously posed in the air, the other hand comes down, scooping upthe slimy trail on my thigh with a long painted nail before sucklingmost of it up into my mouth, rolling on my tongue before swallowingloudly. The last bit gets quickly pat on my pursed lips with a smackingkiss. “Ding! Hehehe! There, all gone where it belongs!”I then fluidly return to my heavily arched feet, all efficiency now as Itake his coat. “Sir, Mistress awaits you in the dining room, Sir,” Isay, lisping excitedly. (“A good sissy is always flamboyantly happy!”)It’s then that I finally get to close the front door, stopping dead fora moment when I catch the laughing gaze of the nosy, gossiping womanacross the street who is well aware of the pathetic neighborhood sissy,but probably just got to witness this full, pathetic spectacle for thefirst time.Hearing my Mistresses demand for more wine I hurriedly shut the door,hang the coat, assume Sissy Presentation Pose, and totter quickly andpurposely to the kitchen.–Alexia here! I’m on the lookout for real life suitable sissies to trainremotely- check out my previous work ‘So You Want to Be Broken’ for moredetails. I understand that some sissies can’t commit to that kind offull, consensual blackmail enforced lifestyle change, and may considerless strict training.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32