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I lived in my dank basement…Her lowly Slave.
Every night, I listened to James fuck my former girlfriend, (my Mistress/Owner), Sara.
When they were done fucking, she’d summon me.
Dressed in thong panties, thigh-high stockings, high heels, and a tight femmy top that That accentuated my (budding) breasts, I drop to my knees.
“Yes Mistress, Yes Master”, and she smiles, “You may Lick.”
I crawl upon the bed, enraptured with the humiliation of the moment, licking the cum of another man from Her pussy…shamelessly grinding my cock on the bed…as he watches!
“Now Him,” she orders, and I lick (Her new boyfriend), James…detesting his excessive pubes…humiliated as I take his freshly-fucked cock in my mouth, swallowing the remnants of his cum.
Then she allows me to kneel by the bed and jack-off as they watch…”Thank you Mistress…Thank you Master! Thank you for allowing me to serve you, and stroke my sissy peepee………”Please,” I beg, and she smiles and nods, and I cum in my hand, and they watch me lick my cum from my hand…in utter humiliation…And exhilaration!
….but not for the last few months….
Now they fuck…and go to sleep.
And I’m sissy-dressed, plug in my ass, teasing my hard cock thru my panties…Ready to Serve….and I am ignored. I feel empty.
Eventually I jack-off, into my hand….cringe as I lick my cum, and feel even more empty.
They were in love, and they’d lost interest in me.
I became a sissy-slave sideshow.
They began staying at James’s house.
Sara moved in with James…I was her discarded slave.
Every few weeks, I’d receive a text, she wants a massage.
I’d be fully shaved, full makeup, wearing panties, a sissy bra, and a cami, kneeling before Mistress, entranced, watching…wishing…as she undressed.
Towering above me, hands on hips, legs slightly spread, naked except for her (sexy, tiny, beautiful) panties, she humors me, “You may Worship.”
I kiss, dainty, sissy kisses, upon her panties, and profess with Kurtköy travesti passion and commitment, “I am your slave for life,” while She towers over me, smirking. I spent years effusively telling Her all my sub-sissy-nuances, and now she manipulates me like a well-tuned Stratovarius.
Mistress lays down on the lounger, which I have converted into a (low) massage table, and I kneel, and massage, for as long as she wants….at least two hours….she groans, enjoying a quality massage few people will ever experience.
She has totally lost interest in my sexuality; my only purpose is as her slave….she sees me as an odd “gift” who fell in her lap. I cultivated our relationship, educating her on how I must be humiliated…. After the massage, she used to let me kneel, and jack myself onto her feet, then lick my cum…but no more. She showers, dresses, looking down upon me, still on my knees, and says, “Bye, slave.” And that’s it.
I slink off to a corner, and jack off to the memories of her divine (naked) body, that I had just massaged and worshipped, for hours… indescribable sexuality for me, with zero sexuality for Her. I am humiliated as I blow my load into my hand…I lick my cum, unfulfilled, wishing….
Then she announced, her niece would be moving to town for Grad studies; a 2-3 year program, and she’d be staying with me….my answer, “Yes, Mistress Sara.”
Maggie came for an introductory visit, and Sara brought her to the house, “Mag knows you are my Sub. You will treat her with the utmost respect.”
Maggie’s eyes were saucer-wide, staring at me in my sub-femmy-maid outfit, “Yes Mistress Sara. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Maggie.”
She was skinny, unkempt, unattractive…completely withdrawn and solitary, as homely a creature as one could imagine.
Maggie, mouth agape, stuttered, “I don’t think I can do this.”
Mistress Sara took charge, “Give it a try, for a few days. If it doesn’t work, we’ll find you another place.”
Looking at me, “Sissy, show Maggie to her suite.”
The Kurtköy travestileri luxurious Master suite included a private screened porch, and a work/desk area with a huge window, overlooking a private lake. Maggie said, “I’ll give it a try”.
Sara continued, “It took me a while to get used to having a sissy-slave, but I think you’ll come to see just how nice it is….and as I’ve mentioned, he is completely safe and non-threatening.”
Looking at me, Sara ordered, “Sissy, remove your dress, bra, and panties.”
I removed my Maid dress, bra and panty, and stood before them in only my black thigh-high hose, high heels, thin leather collar, and tiara. I had, (and still have) a stark bikini tan, at which Maggie shrieked….even though Sara had previously sent her photos.
My hormone induced boi-boobies were white, as was my panty area, while the rest of my body was tanned, but what made her shriek was my tiny cock and balls. As the hormones progressed to enlarge my sissy-boobies, my cock and balls had shrunk with equal regression.
With no instruction, I kneeled before them, and looked to Maggie, “I am at your service.”
Sara ordered, “Go put on a G-string.”
Now my tiny cock and balls were ensconced in mere cloth and strings….way too small to contain a “normal” man-dick. But I had sissy-genitalia.
A tiny wet spot appeared in my G-string, and Sara smiled, “Like all men, he’s still a slave to his cock…in his case, even a tiny noodle cock.”
She continued, “Our Sissy will do all the cleaning, laundry, and whatever else you need. Humiliation is the fuel that feeds this Sissy, so don’t worry about his feelings.”
Maggie stayed in her suite, and studied most of the time, while I tended to the house chores.
I dressed “metro-sexual”, avoiding total femmy garb, that might make her uncomfortable. I tried to make her feel welcome…to “connect”, which happened when I accidentally mixed one of my panties with her laundry.
My phone dinged and I went to her Travesti kurtköy room, where she held the panty, and commented, “I like these more than mine.”
I replied, “I would be happy to do some shopping for you.”
She smiled, “Could you? I order from Amazon, and they’re never quite right.”
“It would be my pleasure,” I replied.
The next day, I left new panties in her suite, and she loved them, “These are perfect! How did you know my size?”
I smiled, “I love all things female.”
From there we began to share meals together. I became her first actual “friend”…prior associations were mere acquaintances.
She shared about her life, that she’d never dated, or been interested in dating…she’d always been immersed in her studies.
She became more and more comfortable with me, inquiring about my sexuality, and sex in general, and one evening, she asked, “Do you look at porn?”
I joked, “Indeed; I have achieved the 10,000 hour master-threshold in porn.”
She asked, “Can I see?”
And that began a seismic change in “homely” Maggie…and our relationship.
At first, she stood behind me while I manipulated the mouse. Then she started saying, “Go back,” to images that caught her interest. Then she grabbed the mouse, standing, leaning over my shoulder, making utterances of her likes and dislikes….I witnessed her “sexualization”….with fascination and appreciation.
She began masturbating…her dirty panties contained copious evidence, as I did the laundry.
It became a regular evening ritual, scouring porn on line.
One night, standing while leaning over my shoulder, she scooted around, and sat on my lap, intently absorbed by the porn on the screen.
After a few (long) moments, I discretely rested my hand on her thigh, and she breathed in sharply….”Ahhh!”
“Would you like me to remove my hand?”
“NO,” she whispered.
Sitting on my lap, she could feel my cock growing hard, and I said, “Mag, I WILL do whatever you DO want, and I will NOT do anything you DO NOT want.” And she exhaled.
She stood, and removed her pants and panties, and sat back down on my lap. Not looking at me, but at the screen, she spread her legs, and said, “Touch me.”
Author’s note:
Another chapter?
Where shall we go from here?
Comments welcome.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
