Archive for the ‘Dominatrix’ Category

My domineering wife again screamed at me for not making the bed. Why did this relationship become such a struggle? Over the years she became more and more dominant, and I, more submissive. Was this my nature? Did I enjoy being told what to do?

About a month later, in one of her more dominant moods, she threatened me. “If you don’t start behaving as I wish, we will march you right down to the tattoo parlor and get you a cute little tattoo.”

I was curious as to what she was thinking. “What sort of tattoo will you give me?” I said in a surprisingly obedient manner.”Hmmm, maybe one that simply says ‘Silly bimbo’ or ‘airhead’, or maybe we will get you a nice little ‘sissy’ placed somewhere that everyone can see!”

My face went red with embarrassment. I could never allow this to happen! I would have to obey her every command.

Several days later, she walked up and handed me a clear plastic cock cage. “Put this on now! You need a little control.” I was angry and had no intention of doing such a thing. “Screw you! I am not wearing that thing for one minute!” I said with my most masculine voice.

She walked over to me, slapped my face and said “Bitch! I own you. I own your ass, your cock and your soul, now put it on before I really get upset!”

The next thing I knew, I was encased in this silly device! It allowed me to use the bathroom, but I now had to sit in order to go, just like a woman. The device was locked with a strong padlock and the key was hidden away somewhere.

As each day passed, I found myself unable to get aroused and the experience begun making me more and more obedient, more attentive to her needs. I felt myself thinking of ways to please her more, to make her happy with me.

After about 2 months of this new lifestyle of chastity, I felt that I finally was put into a position she would be happy with, but I was wrong. “Oh honey, I have something for you.” she called out from the bedroom. She asked me to come in and when I did, I found a frilly pinafore, bra, panties high heels and wig lying on the bed!

“This is what you will be wearing at home from now on. I have decided to make a substantial investment in your progress as a woman.”

“WHAT!?” No! I wont! I….” She placed her finger over my mouth and said “Hush now little lady and put on your things.” I was so angry, yet I found the idea erotic and a warm sensation shot though my body.

I put everything on and she entered the room with a big smile. “Very lovely!” she said and then, in the most shocking moment I can remember, in walked her new boyfriend to see me standing there as her new maid!

My life would never be the same. I really had become a woman. And it felt wonderful.

So the other day I was talking to one of my slut’s and he was telling me about how he wanted to look just like a female with ALL female parts.   Since he is married and wife doesn’t know much about his cross dressing life, and implants are out of the question, he told me about a website where you can purchase suits or body parts to fill all his femine needs.  There is even this one item called the Cherry Popper, which is very interesting to me.  The v-ja ja has a hymen that will pop once you have intercourse for the very first time.  This a must have.  I want to be the one to break his cherry!!!  They even have a Femskin instructional video that shows how to put the suit on.

This is a lot more involved than just shoving in some padding. This is a serious makeover. You’d have to be seriously committed to plunk down the $1,250 for the basic suit, plus another $600 to $1,000 for the various options. On the other hand, it’s probably a lot less expensive than the operation and hormone injections.

Check back often and read all about my cherry busting experience!

View the site <- for all the girly boys!

Kisses,

Miranda

Just wanted everyone to know ONE thing, so we’re clear and on the same page:

I could give less than half a shit if my “boys” talk to other females.  “Why?” you ask, because I have supreme confidence in myself. All boys may stray occasionally — in fact males, even submissive ones, are like alley cats, wandering from one woman to another — but they always find their way home to me, the one and only female that gives them what every other female can’t!

1-877-469-3848

Call me NOW Bitch BOY!

Mistress watched from the window of the beach house as the van pulled up. Four men unloaded the equipment and headed down toward the beach, each one excited with anticipation. These were to be her playmates on this glorious day. She checked the tide clock. Right on time, as ordered. She waited almost an hour, then looked out again and saw the youngest man standing on the dune, again as ordered, facing the Sun motionless.

Dressed in a bikini bottom and a light sun robe, Mistress started out toward the beach to see if all was prepared to her liking. She passed the young man on the dune, who dared not peek at her lovely breasts hanging out through the front of her robe. On her private beach, the oriental rug was placed neatly under the canopy. No sand was on it, as ordered, and the shade only covered her rug. The pillows were fluffed. The cooler was set out. The two doorbells placed next to her pillow, wires running into the ground; all as ordered again.

To the right and left of where she would sit, two faces came just inches out of the sand facing the blazing Sun, mouths open at all times, as ordered. Near the water’s edge, where the low tide had started it’s hypnotic rhythm, Mistress needed to check the last head. Her little pig boy was also buried, with his head sticking up from the neck. Unlike the other two, he would need to be able to move around. All three males were cuffed and bound under the sand, then wrapped with masking tape. Escape was impossible. The Mistress approved of the set-up. This day would be a pleasant one, if the wimps did not break down. She poured a margarita from the pitcher into an extra salty rimmed glass and walked down to where the third head was protruding from the shore line.

“Are you thirsty piglet?” She said this smiling, and did not expect a negative answer.

“Yes Mistress”

She gave him some sips, and the flakes of salt left a radom resudue on his lips. Then she went back to the rug, serving the mixture to the other two wimps. They would be thirsty soon. Facing the sun, she could watch them suffer as she read her novel. She mixed a second margarita for herself, savoring it slowly as she read. After a few minutes she lit a large cigar. She didn’t necessarily like them, but the ashes would cake on her entertainment’s tongues after the margarita began to do its job. She sighed and smiled, her beautiful breasts catching the sea breeze and erecting her soft pink nipples. This would be a wonderful day.

Within an hour, the faces at either side were red with sunburn. The mouths, still open at all times, were cracked and caked with the cigar ash. She took the stub of the cigar, and ran it down between the blonde’s eyes on the face to her right. Burning the flesh just a bit on the nose, she brought it down to the sand, about where his navel might be. A pause, then she stuck it into the sand. Yes, she could see the pain in his eyes, and the struggle too as he tried not to show it. The sand would soon snuff it out before too much damage was done.

The Mistress mixed another margarita, and sipped as she read. She put the book down to rest her eyes. Time to test the doorbells. The wires ran into the sand from each bell button. Under the sand, each side had a large dry cell battery that was connected to wires ending in long, metal rods. Each rod had been lubricated, so as to conduct the current better. One was taped into each man’s anal opening. The other was shoved, like a catheter, into his pee hole. By the time she thought about the buttons, the rods incerted in the piss holes were already causing excruciating discomfort. She looked at the redhead to her left, into his burned face, and dry, cracked ashtray mouth. She pushed the button down for 10 seconds. He groaned, then quickly coughed as the ashes swirled in his mouth. She smiled, delighted with her toys. The blonde was next, he almost screamed out and would have if the margarita had not left him so dry. Back and forth she alternated the shocks, watching the eyes of each as she giggled. Finally she became bored, and dropped a long string of spit into each man’s mouth as a reward. They dared not swallow it in her presence.

She checked her watch. She was a little late and timing was important. Mistress arose and sauntered down toward her piglet. When she reached him, she took out a blindfold and covered his eyes, not out of mercy but to deny him the view of her beauty. She slipped off her bikini bottom, and crouched near the pig’s gaping mouth. Out came a stream of urine from the Margaritas she had drank. The Mistress pissed all over his face but mostly into his mouth, savoring the beautiful seascape as she used her portable toilet. He swallowed as best he could, almost gasping at times. As she squatted there, she watched the waves as high tide approached. She raised herself up, as one strong wave crashed on the sand several yards in front of her toilet, and it’s remains tickled piglet’s neck before retreating. The Mistress smiled, as piglet choked on the last of her nectar. She started back to the house. The man on the dune was ordered not to move until she closed her door. Then he would race to free piglet from a tidal drowning. She stopped, however, forgetting the time. She stared into the man’s face, then viciously scratched down his hideously burned chest. He winced, but nothing more.

“Very good. No reaction.” She said.

Then the Mistress reached down between his legs, and caressed his cock while allowing her nipples to lightly touch his scratched chest. His cock sprung to life quickly. A reaction! Disobedience. She raised a knee quickly into his groin and left him in a groaning pile. She hoped he could recover in time to race to the beach and save her little piglet from drowning. He was such a good toilet for her. But, he could not check piglet until she went into the house. She thought she heard a panicked scream from the beach. She stopped, and smell the flowers in her window box, glanced up at the brilliant sky, twirled around with her arms outstretched in love with nature. She did not hear another cry. She went inside, closing the door very, very slowly. The man got up and raced, stumbling in pain, to the beach.

My mistress has a date tonight. First I am to dress as her “personal” maid. She took great care to emphasize the word “personal.” Then I am to help her get ready for her date.
Mistress laces me into a tight corset. This is always a constant reminder of my sissy and subserviant status, since I can feel the corset with every breath. She gently tweaks my tiny nipples and then gives me the bra I am to wear tonight. A training bra, with no falsies. I arrange it on myself as I realize how inadequate I am as an impersonator of a woman.

She gives me some lacy panties to step into, commenting that she has no use for my cock this evening — she has a date with a real man. I roll the thigh high black seamed stockings up my legs and attach them to the garters of the corset. Mistress examines me to make sure the seams are straight. Then I put the short, black maid’s dress over my head. It does not provide much covering for my ass and thighs, and the garters will show if I bend even a little. I step into my black high heels, which changes my balance and is another constant, subtle reminder of my sissy status. A maid’s cap is pinned in my own hair, and I realize I am not even to have the benefit of a wig tonight. The final touch is a lacy apron that I tie in a bow behind my back.

Mistress tells me to hurry up and sit down on the toilet seat, for her date will be coming soon and there is still much to be done. Her date! It is not enough that Mistress likes to embarrass me in front of her female friends, but now her male friends too! And with no wig and no falsies, I am not going to make a very convincing female, am I?

Fortunately Mistress enjoys putting makeup on me, so perhaps I will have an adrogenous look today. Mistress must be in a playful mood, because she puts far too much mascara, eyeliner and blush on me, and apparently she wants me to look very cheap. She outlines my lips very precisely in a dark lip pencil, and then fills them with a brush in a nice red. I’ve never liked that dark pencil — there’s something too obvious, too whory about it. Then she takes a vaseline like jelly with her fingertip and rubs it thickly over my red lips. This gives them an unnatural, almost metallic sheen, but apparently that is the look she wants me to have tonight.

Mistress hands me a bottle of nail polish in a matching shade to my lipstick, and tells me to do my nails while she takes a shower. “Oh, and change the sheets and make my bed first, Sissy,” she tells me. Another humiliation — I have to make the bed ready for her and her date from when they come back home at the end of the evening!

I make her bed and then do my nails while I wait for Mistress to emerge from the shower. As I wait and as I blow on my nails for them to dry, I glance at the lingerie she has left out that she will be wearing tonight. I see her push-up Wonderbra. Mistress has a gorgeous figure including perfectly round, white 34B breasts, and she needs no extra cleavage to show herself off. One of my pet peeves about Mistress is that she really has no idea how drop-dead gorgeous she is. Of course, she doesn’t believe me when I tell her that. But if she is wearing the Wonderbra, then this must be an important date for her tonight. I will have to do whatever I can to help her.

Mistress emerges from the shower and I am there for her with a large towel to cover her and pat her dry. She allows me to pat her all over with the towel, which gives me a little pleasure. I then powder her gently with a big powder puff full of a sweet smelling talc. She tells me to spend extra time on her breasts, which of course I do very lovingly. She has me hold her tiny panties out for her to step into, and I see her tiny pubic hair triangle disappear into them. Then she has me hold her Wonderbra for her to insert her breasts into. I hold the bra cups and struggle not to reach out and fondle her lovely breasts. I clasp the bra behind her. This bra does wonders for her cleavage and I look at Mistress with awe. She slips on her high heeled slippers. She is SO sexy.

Mistress has me blow dry her hair, and then she has me brush it for her. I lovingly stand behind her and brush her beautiful hair. This is an act that only a true submissive can understand. It is truly my pleasure to do this — I don’t think Mistress really comprehends that. Then Mistress allows me the privilege of handing her cosmetics as she does her own makeup. She lets me hold the mascara bottle as she makes up her long lashes. She lets me hold her eye shadow case as she gently strokes the color on her eyelids. She lets me hold her blusher compact as she strokes a little color on her cheeks. On other occasions she has made me masturbate while watching her do her makeup, and my cock remembers that, but this is not the plan tonight. Finally she tells me to unscrew her Estee Lauder lipstick in rose, and then she carefully colors her lips. I could watch Mistress apply her lipstick for hours, it is just so sexy. I am completely turned on by the sight of it. Mistress tells me she is done with her makeup. And she is gorgeous.

Suddenly the doorbell rings, and Mistress tells me to answer it. “Shall I tell him you’re not finished dressing yet?” I ask her. “Oh no,” she tells me, “I am finished.”

Mistress is beautifully made up, but she is only wearing a bra and panties and slippers. How can she go out like that? Then it dawns on me — they’re not going out. It’s an evening at home, with her dressed only in her lingerie. What does that mean for me?

I open the door and let him in. He introduces himself as Brad. I suppose he’s good looking — if Mistress likes that type. He stares at me, not knowing what to think, since Mistress has not quite made me into my feminine best. He gives me a sly smile, since he undoubtedly knows my secret, that I may be Mistress’s maid, but I am certainly not a female one. However, he is too much a gentleman to say this.

Mistress emerges and they kiss deeply, oblivious to my presence, although why should they care. Brad’s eyes bulge at the sight of Mistress’s sexy breasts, almost spilling out form her Wonderbra. I help him remove his jacket, and I offer them a drink. As I leave to get their drinks, they start making out on the couch, and Mistress starts to unbutton Brad’s shirt.

By the time I return with the drinks they are making out passionately. Mistress tells me to bring the drinks into the bedroom. I do, and they both come in too. Mistress then tells me to make myself useful. “Useful?” I repeat. I am not sure what she means.

“Sissy!” Now Mistress is mad at me. “You’re supposed to be my personal maid. Do I have to spell it out for you? Make yourself useful and help Brad remove his pants.” I cringe at the thought of this, and I try not to look at him as I kneel down, loosen his belt and help him step out of his pants.

“Well, Sissy?” Mistress says next. I know what she expects, but I can’t react. At this point Brad knows too. “Sissy!” Now she is really pissed at me. “Remove his undershorts this instant! But for your insolence to my guest, I want you to put your hands behind your back, and lower his undershorts with your teeth!”

Mistress did not apply enough blush to my cheeks to hide the embarrassment as I slowly comply with her command. I need to put my face right up to him as I gently grab the waistband with my teeth and carefully lower his shorts down his legs. Mistress has surely done it again. She has no end of ways to humiliate me.

But she is still mad at me for having to tell me each little detail. She asks Brad if he thinks I need a spanking. Brad is not sure what to make of this, but he is turned on by the sight of Mistress, he is turned on from their making out on the couch, and he is turned on by this sissy maid being made to remove his shorts with her teeth. I am still kneeling and Brad’s erection is right at my face. I am actually relieved that Mistress is apparently not going to make me get more intimately involved with Brad.

Mistress grabs her hairbrush — the hairbrush that I lovingly used to brush her beautiful hair not long ago — sits down in a chair and motions for me to lay down in her lap. She flips up my skirt, and I wonder if she is going to pull down my panties. She pauses for the longest moment, and I know all three of us are thinking about this. Fortunately, she decides to leave them on — for now.

Mistress starts spanking me on my panty covered ass with her hairbrush. She has one of my arms bent behind me, as she wails away with her other hand. She is hitting me hard, and I start to scream. Mistress decides she doesn’t want to hear my sissy screaming, and she tells Brad to take his undershorts and stuff them in my mouth. I am SO humiliated. Brad spreads my glossy red lips and inserts his shorts in my mouth. Mistress keeps wailing away. My screams are muffled, but I am crying. Brad watches the scene, and his erection grows.

Finally Mistress has had enough of spanking me. She asks me if I have learned my lesson, and if I will be a useful personal maid. I nod tearfully. She tells Brad, “Don’t worry, while you and I are busy Sissy will wash and iron your shorts for you.” How’s that for a humiliation? I have to wash his shorts in the next room while they make love?

Mistress wipes my tears and tells me that she know how I can be useful to her. She tells me to take Brad’s shorts out of my mouth. She removes her panties and lays down on the bed. She spreads her beautiful legs and motions to me to come to her. “Get me nice and wet for Brad, Sissy.”

I am always eager to get Mistress nice and wet, although not for someone else. It is especially embarrassing to go down on Mistress while someone else is watching. But when Mistress speaks, I must obey. I kneel between her legs on the bed, gently spread her lips, and go to work. Mistress must have been mistaken — she is already quite wet. Kissing Brad and spanking me probably helped get her wet. But I lick her for awhile until she tells me to stop.

Brad is standing there with his big erection waiting for his turn. He is certainly ready. But Mistress says that she wants him to wear a condom. I know there is always one ready in her nightstand drawer. “Uh, Sissy?”

I am red-faced as I know what Mistress expects me to do. I go to her nightstand drawer and get a condom. I remove the wrapper and gaze at it. How I wish it were going on me, and then … But that will never happen. I resign myself to the unpleasant task of taking Brad’s cock in my hands and rolling the condom on his erection. Mistress spreads her legs invitingly once more. Her pussy hair glistens — due to me, I wish I could remind them both. Brad leans forward toward Mistress. Mistress then speaks up again.

“Uh Sissy? I want you to insert Brad into me.”

Will there be no end to Mistress’s indignities? So as Brad gets into position, I take his condom covered erection with one hand, gently spread Mistress’s lips again with my other hand, and ease him into her.

What next, I wonder to myself. Will I have to push it in and out too?

Mistress thankfully tells me, “Thank you Sissy. That will be all for now. Go into the bathroom and fix your makeup — it’s a mess. Make sure your lipstick is the way it was when Brad first arrived. Nice and red and glossy. Then when your lipstick is right, I want you to jerk off into your pretty panties. Leave them on, because we’re going to check. And then don’t forget to wash and iron Brad’s shorts.”

And with that Mistress dismissed me with a wave of her hand, Brad started pumping away, and I retired to the bathroom to follow Mistress’s commands.

When my slave arrived, I ordered him to strip naked and crawl to the hallway under the staircase. Many people have cupboards there, but I don’t. The space is occupied by a sturdy wooden dining chair with square arms and a cane seat. I took the cord I had earlier placed beside the chair, tied his wrists together, and told him to stretch his bound arms up as high as he could so I could tie his wrists to the bannisters above his head. I took a broom handle from below he chair, and ordered him to stand with his feet apart and kneeling down. I tied first one, then the other ankle to the ends of the broom handle, spreading his legs apart as far as they would go. “I’m not quite satisfied yet” I whispered in his ear, delighting in the look of apprehension now on his face.

Producing a second broom handle, I pushed his knees apart and again tied the handle between them, leaving his cock and balls fully exposed, and slave richard helpless. He told me he was uncomfortable and wanted to bring his knees together a bit. I laughed at him… “Do you think I really care about your comfort? In fact, I don’t want to hear the sound of your whining at all”. I again reached under the chair for two scarves. The first I pushed into his mouth, filling it completely, and the second I tied round his jaw as a gag, keeping the first scarf firmly in place. “Now I have you where I want you, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it and no way you can call out”.

It was true. he was helpless and vulnerable. I had one more touch to add to his bindings – I produced a final scarf and tied it around his eyes – My power over him was complete. I did not speak to him again, but picked up the telephone. “He’s ready now”, I said, and five minutes later, an eternity to slave richard, there was a knock on the front door. Even with his gag and blindfold I could see that he was horrified, stretched naked and helpless in the hallway. He could only hear my voice and, to his humiliation, three others, all Female. “He’s not much to look at, but here he is and you can do anything you like with him. We have all night”.

slave richard looked terrified but his cock was erect as he sensed the women surrounding him, looking at him as they would a small insect they were about to squash under their heel. Their silence made the moment even more tense. He felt hot breath on one of his nipples – Mistress 2 blew on his chest. There was breath on his cock, his stomach, his neck, frustrating as there was no relief from the teasing. We ran our hands over him, caressing, teasing, exciting but never satisfying. His cock strained and bobbed as his excitement built, but his fun was soon to end.

Simultaneously our hands stopped their work and Mistresses 4 grabbed his balls hard, while I pulled apart the cheeks of his ass and pushed a vibrator in roughly, violating him to the depths of his body. Knowing better than to cry out, slave richard made pathetic mewling noises beneath his gag. “Time to fuck, I think”. The others agreed, I withdrew the vibrator and Mistress 3 pulled his ass cheeks open again. slave richard could feel something bigger pushing against him. “This is a strap-on cock” said Mistress 2. “It is bigger than your tiny tool, is harder, and will never go soft. Do you like fucking?” Of course slave richard could not answer. He could not even clench the sides of his arse together to stop the penetration. Two of the Mistresses held his shoulders Mistress 2 pushed the plastic cock deep into his body and started moving backwards and forwards, faster and faster, but his humiliation was not yet complete.

I struck him across his nipples, causing him to tense and moan. Again and again he heard the swish as the cane struck his thighs, stomach, cock, balls. His ordeal was lengthy. As one Goddess tired of fucking him, so the strap-on was passed around, and so was the cane. slave richard hung from his bonds, helpless, violated, in pain and at the mercy of four Women. Finally we stopped his torment and removed his gag and blindfold. “Beg for mercy” I commanded.

“I beg Mistress, I beg…” he sobbed.

“Do you acknowledge the error of your past life and swear to treat women with supreme respect for the remainder of your miserable life?”. He swore as I demanded, broken and wiser. Freeing his hands, I ordered him to masturbate in front of the Mistresses, while they mocked his inferior endowment. Falling to the ground, he kissed My feet and the feet of the other Goddesses, thanking us for his punishment.