Ideal service, 24/7.

You know how important service is to me and you want to be my slave. That’s not a position I take lightly. You will be expected to be impeccable in everything you do and, of course, there is a routine I’ll expect you to follow. Listen closely and pay attention.

Are you prepared to sleep on my floor, chained to the foot of my bed? After I unchain you, position yourself at my feet and worship them thoroughly while I lounge, planning my day. Breakfast is always your concern; acquaint yourself with the foods I like best and make sure they are constantly cooked to perfection. Once the kitchen is cleaned, everything put away in its proper place, you will be properly hydrated with a heavy stream of my golden piss. You’ll make sure to swallow every drop.

Is it necessary to emphasize that your service will involve being firmly in chastity? I didn’t think so. Any slave/pet/toy of mine would never be allowed to have control over such delicate body parts. You would be firmly locked away at my whim and pleasure. Doesn’t that make drawing my bath and viewing my exquisite body while I soap lather soak rinse moisturize all the more agonizing? Knowing you could only look (again at my whim) and never ever touch? Maybe hooding you would be a mercy.

If I have no activities requiring your services as a chauffeur, you will be fitted with a butt plug and set to cleaning my home from top to bottom while I conduct whatever business I deem necessary. On occasion, I will use you for target practice and keeping sharp with my favorite implement of the day. You always sport some physical mark emphasizing my control. Stripes from my cane, streaked kisses courtesy of my single tail. Even without the collar around your neck, your skin will burn with the evidence of my desires.

My dinner will be cooked and served exquisitely by you with every attention to detail. While I enjoy the fruits of your labors seated at my table, you will partake of scraps served to you out of a dog bowl, kneeling at my feet. The end of the evening will see you secured once again to the foot of my bed, in preparation of the rigors and pleasures of the next day.

Is all of that clear? I require service of an excellent caliber, from one whose mind is completely devoted to the task. Many fantasize about such a position, but few, very few, are suited to executing it to my standards. Let me know when you are ready.

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BDSM fiction – sissy’s First Visit (part 2)

Mistress returned with a basin of water, scissors, and a razor. “Babette, watch as I shave the last vestige of your manhood away from your clit! Don’t twitch now,” she laughed, “I would hate to have an accident.” Slowly, steadily, Mistress Phoenix exerted her ownership over me and the hair around my clit disappeared. Once I was hairless she unchained me and ordered me to my knees.

I thanked her profusely and she allowed me to worship her feet for several minutes. “That’s right, Babette, you sissy; worship my feet, lick all the dirt off of my heels, you dirty little whore. Why, Babette, are you a whore? Has your pussy ever been fucked? By a Mistress? By a man? With a tramp like you, it’s so hard to tell.”

“Please, Mistress; if it makes you happy, make me your whore. Take my virginity as a trophy!”

“Perhaps later, you little slut. Right now, I want to experiment on this new body I own. UP!”

Without thinking, I rose to my feet. Mistress Phoenix slapped me immediately. “Up! means on your knees, you dumb slut. You never stand in my presence unless I order you to. I have already told you what happens when you disobey my rules. Crawl to the horse and drape yourself over it.” Attaching cuffs to my wrists and ankles, Mistress Phoenix secured me to the spanking horse. “Now, in one hand I have a paddle. In the other I have your friend the cane. You determine the instrument that will bring you pain. Pick a hand.” My head was spinning from her mind game as she made me pick my own instrument of torture. I humbly begged for the left. It was the paddle!

“And, what did I say would happen if you were disobedient again, slut?”

“I would get two strokes instead of one, Mistress.”

“Correct. So, nine times nine makes eighteen.”

Mistress Phoenix laid into me. Eighteen strokes with her wooden paddle. After each stroke I had to scream, “I will obey Mistress Phoenix!” at the top of my lungs (I’m very sure there was plenty of laughter from whoever heard that!). When she was finished, Mistress Phoenix lectured me on my shortcomings as a sissy and told me to obey her rules or risk being banished. I begged for forgiveness from the bottom of my heart.

Unchaining me, Mistress Phoenix ordered me to my knees and then commanded “UP!” I rose to my knees. “I see that you are learning. Spread those legs. Wider!” Mistress then bit my nipples, the feeling was amazing, a mixture of heat and intense pain sent shock waves through my body. “Do you like that, bitch? Maybe you will like this, too!” She attached nipple clamps to my tits. “How do those titties feel now, Babette? Do they hurt? Does this hurt?” She grabbed the chain connecting the clamps and pulled back, I gasped in pain and struggled to stay motionless. “Take the pain for me, show me your devotion, Babette. Only the devoted are allowed to serve me. Do you want to serve me?”

I gasped, “Yes!”

“Then, suffer!”

Mistress Phoenix took a small bucket of clothespins and moved to my clit. She attached what felt like a hundred, but was only ten pins to my clit. “If you show me your devotion, then I may reward you. My rewards are only for my best slaves and sissies. If you please me, I may allow you to worship my legs. I may even allow you to worship my ass! Would you like that?”

“Oh, yes, Mistress Phoenix, please let me worship your wonderful legs and marvelous ass! It is all I hope to achieve.” Mistress Phoenix ordered me to kiss her feet, all the while the burning pain in my tits and clit mounted. She finally forced me to stop and ordered me up.

“Close your eyes, sissy; don’t more.” She then started taking the clamps and pins off my body. It was a slow process, every time blood returned to a portion of my body the pain was intense. Sometimes she toyed with me, removing a pin from my clit and quickly reattached it to my tits. I gasped back a scream. “Suffer for me,” she teased. Finally, all of the pins were removed and Mistress Phoenix ordered me to my knees again. Without a word, she walked away. I was tempted to look over my shoulder to see what new torment she was preparing for me, however, I had learned my lesson. I existed to obey Mistress Phoenix’s rules.

She returned soon and sat on my back. “So, bitch, you have never been fucked? Well, I am going to fix that. Starting now, you are going to get very used to butt plugs. Some day, it will be dildos and maybe, the real thing. It depends on whether I choose to own you.” With that, Mistress Phoenix lubed my virgin ass and ordered me to relax. “That’s right, I know that you want me to take you, oh yes, beg me to stick my butt plug up your pussy.” Oh, did I ever beg! “That’s right, beg me, tell me know much you want a cock in your pussy!” What that, she slowly and deliberately forced the butt plug into my pussy. When I felt that I could take the pain no longer, she would stop, coax me into relaxing and excite me by making me beg all over again. I was amazed at the depths of degradation a horny male would go to please a dominant Goddess. It was almost no time at all before I was fully impaled on the plug which she had forced into me. She taunted me again, “Tell me how much you like my plug in your hole, tell me now, bitch!” I did, oh the shame that I felt, but I could not help it. As those of you who have served her know, there is no denying the wishes of Mistress Phoenix. What she wants, she gets. Resistance, as they say, is futile.

Mistress Phoenix ordered me to follow her. On my knees, I followed across the dungeon. On the command “Up!” I rose. She then applied lipstick to my lips and handed me a pair of panties. Laughing and telling me that I looked like a little sissy, she ordered me to rise to my feet and to follow her. She quickly led me to the laundry room in the rear of the studio.

“Babette, in that hamper you will find a load of dirty towels. Put them in the washing machine. When you have finished that, you will clean the bathroom. The cleaning supplies are in there. I expect the mirror, sink and toilet bowl to be spotless when I return. I am going to work on the computer; you have forty-five minutes. Get to work!”

With that, I felt to my tasks with vigor. My goal was to make Mistress Phoenix happy and I intended to do just that. The time passed quickly; before long, I heard the click of heels in the hallway. I put the cleaning supplies in the bucket and dropped to my knees. Mistress Phoenix entered.

“Kneel in the corner while I inspect this place, bitch!” I did. It only took Mistress Phoenix a couple of minutes to look things over. “Very nice work, sissy; you have potential. Let me tell you what I am going to do. You missed a spot behind the toilet. That will cost you ten strokes with the cane. Crawl ahead of me and drape yourself over the horse. When I arrive I will administer your punishment.” Mistress Phoenix laughed and continued, “If you don’t move during your beating, I will allow you to cum.

“I have several rules for my slaves. I love to see my sissies eat cum. If you want to impress me, you will beg for permission to cum and eat it. The choice is yours, however, bear in mind that I am deciding whether or not you are fit to be my sissy. Now, crawl.”

I crawled to the dungeon and my mind was spinning. I knew that Mistress Phoenix desired that I eat my own cum and so further humble myself. In a flash, I knew that I much submit to her desires, no matter how it humiliated me. Positioning myself over the horse, I awaited Mistress Phoenix. I could hear her coming down the hall. I tensed and waited for the fresh assault on my already sore ass. She entered.

“Strip down those panties, bitch, I don’t want anything between my cane and your ass! Count and scream; I could use the entertainment.” With that, she began caning me again. By the stroke of five, I was whimpering. By nine, I let out a yelp. I screamed on the tenth.

“Very good, Babette, you barely flinched. That’s the type of devotion that I want from my slaves. Off the horse and on your knees. Stroke that clit of yours! Tell me how much you want to cum, but don’t you dare do it! Not until I’ve given you permission.”

I began to play with my clit. Mistress placed a paper plate on the floor. She had written ‘sissy squirt here’ on the plate. “When I allow you to cum, you will squirt on that plate and if you want to please me, you will beg for permission to lick it up. Now, look at me, look at the beautiful Goddess who is watching you in ¬†your lipstick, while you play with that clit. Beg, slave. Beg to cum!”

I began to beg in earnest and finally Mistress Phoenix told me to cum. She burst out laughing. “What a whore! Go ahead, whore, eat your cum.” I did, all the while feeling small and humiliated.

When I finished, Mistress returned my clothes. “Do you have my tribute, sissy?” I gave it to her.

“Well Babette, you did reasonably well. Do you feel that you have enough to write your first story?” I answered that I did. “You have a long way to go before I will even consider you as my personal sissy. I want you back here in two weeks. You will be paying for the next session! You will bring a maid’s outfit, either pink or black and white; you choose. Just make sure that it is sexy and that I have easy access to your clit and your pussy. You will be cleanly shaved¬†when you arrive. During your next session, you will again have the opportunity to earn the privilege of kissing my ass; I suggest you work harder because you were not even close this time. And, I here’s something else to think about before your next arrival…are you worthy of a golden shower?”

Mistress Phoenix led me to the door. I foolishly asked for permission to wipe off the lipstick. “Oh no,” she said, “wear that out, sissy. It will help keep you focused on your new station in life.” With that, she patted me on the butt and pushed me out the door. My last impression was of her laughter as I was turned out into the street wearing lipstick.

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