Happy Days

I receive a txt from Mistress.  It reads, ”Come tomorrow, dressed. Expect to stay overnight.”

So who knows what is in store for me?  But I know what “dressed” means.  It means dressed as a woman. 

I think about what to wear.  It’s not always easy to get it right.  And then, I can’t turn up empty handed, so that means a little shopping first.

So I go out into town.  I know she has a list of wants on Amazon…. All sex toys, and pvc clothing.  But maybe I should get her something for herself… I know her shoe size, so I settle on a pair of mid height heeled shoes, classy, expensive.  And then I buy her flowers- from a flower shop, not something pre packed from Tesco’s.

Tomorrow dawns, and I dress.  I decide on the rock chick look.  Knee boots, short skirt, leather jacket.  I set off, nervous, but I go over it in my mind, and I think I’ve done everything I can.

I arrive, park and walk over to Her house.  She’s had me dressed outside so many times now, I hardly feel nervous. I arrive at her door and check my makeup in my pocket mirror.  I touch up my lipstick and ring the bell, once.  And then I wait.  These days I know not to become impatient.

Eventually She answers, and I greet her, “Good Morning Mistress, I have brought You some flowers, and a gift.

She dumps the gift wrapped shoes in the hallway, and tosses the flowers to one side.  I‘ll be finding a vase for them soon enough.

“I had a party here last night.  The place is a shambles.  Clean it.” She says.  “And put the flowers in a vase.”

I go and fetch the cleaning gear, and start.

It takes me all morning , and into the afternoon to clean thoroughly.  I regret bitterly the choice of clothes.  I’m hot and sweaty, and the heeled boots are killing my feet.  Having said that, I have higher heels, and at least I haven’t had my ankles or wrists chained together.

Mistress inspects my work, and finds only minor faults.  It’s hard to say if she’s pleased, but no punishment follows, so I have to assume that I’m getting better at cleaning to Her requirements.

“Good, laundry then.” 

I go to Her laundry basket.  There’s quite a lot, and much of it is hand wash.  So I get on with it.

I’m hungry, but best not to ask.  I work on, washing, drying, ironing.  It gets to about 6, and She hands me a dinner menu.

I cook for her, pasta with prawns, and a side salad.

I serve, and stand on one side of the room while she eats.

When she finishes, I light a cigarette for Her.  She smokes, and stubs the cigarette out in the remains of Her meal.  She places the plate on the floor.

“you may eat if you wish” She says.

I get on all fours and eat the remains of Her meal.  I swallow the cigarette butt- I know that She will not accept a dirty plate.

I wash up and then she tells me to go to bed.

The room I sleep in has no curtains, and a single bed with no covers.

I know the drill.

I strip, and lie down on the bed.  I leave the door open.  If Mistress wants to check on me, She can look in without having to open a door, I feel vulnerable, cold, but eventually I sleep.

I’m up early.  I make breakfast, and am allowed a slice of toast eaten directly from the floor, and half a cup of cold tea that Mistress has lost interest in.

She sends me shopping.  I have a list, and I no longer worry about who’s looking at me, I just bustle round the supermarket picking things up.  But I go through the self checkout system- it’s one less person to have to interact with.

I arrive back to find Mistress getting ready for Her afternoon’s work.

“tiffy, we have two visitor’s today, and you’re helping with them.  I’m glad you’re dressed like that, because a slightly dominant slut is exactly what I require.”

The first client arrives at 2:00, and I meet him at the door.

He almost panics and runs, but I frown at him and tell him to “Get inside, don’t waste Mistresses time.” He enters, and I show him through to the dungeon room.

Mistress comes in and he falls to his knees.  She makes him lick Her boots… and then She makes him lick mine.  He is stripped naked, and I bring him his outfit for the session- a tutu, a pair of black high heels and a black gimp mask.  I help him into them, and we strap him to a bench.

Apparently he likes a bit of caning, and Mistress flogs him.

I help her with a variety of tortures….. pinwheel, candles, a few blows to his balls.  Eventually it’s over, and She lets him masturbate onto the floor.

I take him by the shoulders, and force his face to the ground, and make him lick it up.

It’s hard to get him to leave.  Mistress leaves me to it, and I help him undress.  He just wants to talk, and he certainly can.

I almost have to throw him out the door, and just in time, because 5 minutes later the next client arrives.

He has no problem with me- in fact I’m rather concerned that he looks at me in a lustful way….

Mistress takes control of him and gets him stripped off.    She takes abuse to a new level with him, swearing at him, laughing at his dick.

She ties his balls to his ankles and then chases him round the room with a whip, laughing all the time.

She ties him up, suspended from the ceiling, and begins to kick him in the balls.  Over and over.  But he won’t say the safe word.

Eventually She tells me to have a go, and I kick him gently in the nuts.  This is a mistake on my part, as a riding crop lashes viciously across my buttocks.

“Do it properly tiff!” She hisses at me.

So I kick him hard. And again.  And again.

He is crying, sobbing uncontrollably.

I kick him once more, and he finally cracks.  “Enough Mistress., please.”

Mistress prowls round him. She is smoking, and blows some in his face.  Without warning she slaps his balls hard with her open palm.

He cries out, and begs again for her to stop.

“Please Mistress, they hurt.” He begs.

It’s nearly the end of his session, and  Mistress looks at me and smiles.

“I think you’ve been a bit hard on him tiffy.  You should make up for it.  Here rub this into his balls.”

She hands me a pot of cream.  “Go on rub it in.”

I kneel down and start to rub cream into his swollen balls.

This has the expected result, and he starts to become hard.

“Looks like his tiny dick needs some work too tiffy.”

I take my cue, and rub cream into his member which becomes fully hard, and throbbing.

“Now tiffy, lick it clean.  Start with his balls.”

I suck his balls into my mouth, and then work up his shaft, licking sucking.

“Don’t let him make a mess tiffy,” She says.

“We don’t want spunk on the floor do we? So take care of it please.”

I take his cock in my mouth, and start to move my lips up and down over the head.  He can‘t believe his luck- he certainly wasn’t expecting to get a blow job at the end of his visit.  It doesn’t take him long, and he shoots into my mouth.

“Hold it tiffy… let me see.”

I open my mouth to let Mistress see the hot spunk on my tongue.

“Now swallow it,” she says.  So I do.

We unstrap the client, and while he’s dressing, Mistress takes my hands, cuffs them, attaches them to the ceiling. 

“Before you go,” she says”, I don’t suppose you’d like to give him a couple back would you?  In the balls?”   She smiles at the client, and he knows better than to turn Her down.

He kicks me, hard, and I gasp, the pain is shocking.  It takes a while to permeate through my body, and then he does it again.  And again.

I feel sick, I can’t move, but he leaves.  Mistress turns the light off and leaves me in the dungeon, alone, attached to the ceiling, in the dark.

After an hour or so She returns.

She unshackles me, and says “Clean up.”  So I clean up. I scrub the floor, vacuum, polish.  I sterilise toys, hang up various toys, take used clothing and wash it.

It’s dinner time, I cook again.  This time I’m allowed a little dinner as it is cooked…. Except that Mistress spits on it repeatedly.  I get a drink too- a nice wine glass full of Mistress’ s pee.

And then it’s over, and I’m sent home.

Until the next time.

“You did well sucking cock today tiffy. I’m going to start offering you as an additional service that I can charge for.  So be ready for a call at any time.  Make sure you’ve got some nice red lipstick on when I call for you.”

I go home, tired, but content.  I have got through two days without any punishment.  I have helped Mistress to look after two clients, and I have been allowed to eat her spit and drink her pee.  Happy days.

A Day in the Life of Maid Marcia

Madame’s alarm went and i waited patiently while she turned it off.  “Would you like a cuddle?” I carefully asked and to my joy she responded positively, spooning into my back and saying how lovely and warm i was as her hand snaked down and cupped my genitals snugly hidden in my panties.

In my imagination Madame said that she didn’t have to go to work early today and that i could massage her feet while she snoozed. No further encouragement was necessary and slipping my gown on i moved to the end of the bed and with massage oil at the ready proceeded to carefully peel back the covers to reveal one of her beautiful feet. 

After massaging both feet i carefully moved up her legs until i was massaging her thighs.  This was a risk i knew, but it seemed like a good chance.  Carefully i reached into Madame’s bedside drawer and retrieved her vibrator.  First i used it on her feet and legs, working my way back up to her pantie covered crotch.  It was so nice to touch her so intimately and i was getting quiet excited, but she suddenly shocked me by pulling aside her knickers so her sex was fully displayed to me – a rare and wonderful sight.  Letting her enjoy the attentions of the vibrator for a while i imagined it was a real man who was pleasuring her, but finally i worked up the resolve to ask her if i could lick her pussy, something i love doing, but rarely get the chance.

Madame told me to wait while she went to the bathroom.

When she returned she had left her knickers off and proceeded to lie down so i could lick her precious pussy.  The slight sent of her lingering urine was a turn on, but it was soon supplanted by her juices as they mixed with my salvia, causing me to pause and gulp down all i could.  I know her juices held lots of female hormones, but that was a risk i was more than happy to take and continued to lap, lick and suck away until Madame had first one and then two wonderful orgasms.  Pausing i asked if i was better at giving her orgasms than her boyfriend (my pet name for her vibrator) and she said yes, but only with your tongue.

Sadly things had to stop there as i had chores to perform and Madame still had to go to work.  In my dressing gown i tidied up my face before going into the kitchen where i put away the dishes, made Madame a cup of tea and prepared her breakfast and that for the other family members including her pets.  When that was done i had my own simple breakfast and left the family to enjoy a period of quality time. 

As i ate my breakfast and checked things on my computer i thought how lucky i was that Madame allowed me to share her bed.  It would be simple for her to put me in the spare room or even the closet as she had sometimes teased or playfully threatened me.  Of course the spare room would be my fate if she ever did feel like sharing her bed with a real man, something that is of course totally within her rights.  One thing i know is sissy husbands have no rights, but that sissy maids have lots of responsibilities.

Time gets away and i am called to service.  Quickly i throw on some ugly male clothes and perform the morning taxi service, but it doesn’t take long and i am soon home and can attended to my chores after having a shower, carefully shaving my little bits so they look cute and wishing i could be rid of the rest of my nasty body hair.  Still warm from the shower i complete my exercise and stretching regime imagining that one day i might be really supple and slender.

Today is a very special day. For a number of reasons, one of which i won’t go in to involved the creation of a tasty snack which i duly consumed.  The most important reason was that it was maid day.  Before Madame had left for the day i had told her it was maid day and that i would be cleaning the house.  She said good and i am sure she knew i would be performing my maid duties as Marcia and would be properly attired, or well i hope she did as i am.  Yes, a very special reason is that i have been told to tell my story of a day in the life of maid Marcia and of course i can’t very well do that if i am not dressed for the part.

The only challenge is i have to write my story while dressed as Marcia, but at the same time do all my chores.  Oh dear.  How am i going to fit all that in?

Luckily there was only one load of washing to hang out.

Rather than take my usual morning coffee break reading a book, i took my flat white (which is my coffee of preference when i’m Marcia as it is a cruel jibe at my flat chest, sniff.  But better than having a long black...  hee hee, giggle, giggle.  Blush.  What am i thinking?)  Oh my, it can be hard to concentrate.  Anyway, while having my coffee i started my story.

When i was preparing the washing i noted there was some ironing to do.  There is not much ironing, just two school shirts, so this was a treat as you can guess who would be doing the ironing.  Yes me, maid Marcia.  i must remember to tell Madame that i have ironed them as she is sure to tease me about it in some way.

Ironing should make a good photo opportunity and i set everything up and took a picture using the timer.  When i had finished i checked the photo only to find it was, well, rubbish.  Oh dear.  Maybe a photo of me checking to see if the washing is dry?  Good idea i thought and duly set it up.  Not bad. And yes, they are my pink panties and they were the ones that can be just seen in a photo associated with the Sellotape task.  On the line were two more shirts and they were dry enough to iron and so i brought one in and set up another photo.  Much better, but now i realised i had done three of the four shirts and so i had better do the last one.  Oh my.  My poor aching feet after standing ironing for half an hour on the hard slate floor while wearing high heels...  I rather enjoyed it.

Would i still say that after the vacuuming was done?  Probably the most important task i had to do today and one i was determined to do while still appropriately dressed.  But first a bite for lunch.

One of the good things about being Marcia is that she likes to diet.  She wants to be a skinny bitch in the kitch.  This is something that gets her in trouble with Madame who doesn’t like her losing too much weight, so i don’t think i am every going to have a nice figure.  Lunch by the way was a small sweet potato pie, an apple and glass of water.  There was some leftover fired rice to have, but that can wait till another day.

Strangely i’m not that hungry, maybe it was the protein shake i had earlier?  It was a real treat.  I don’t know if it will be a rare treat or a common occurrence or both.  What i do know is that it is now firmly fixed in my little mind.

Vacuuming...

It has to be done.  And as i’m dressed as a maid i guess i’m the best person to do it.  “Let me be your vacuum cleaner, sucking up your dust”.  Hmmm, best not let my little mind wander in that direction.

Oh dear this is not like me at all.

At this stage i had to stop writing and get on with my chores as by the time i would have them finished i would have used up all my Marcia time for the day.  Thank heavens i had another day up my sleeve, eh, in my closet.  And so now i’m Marcia as secretary completing my story, although i still has some domestic chores to complete and one interruption to contend with.

The vacuuming was endless!  Hall, study, lounge, kitchen, main bedroom, bathroom and laundry, paying particular attention to the skirting boards which required me to constantly bend down or crouch down to change vacuum attachments.  To top it off, and as if my poor feet weren’t sore enough, i decided to mop the kitchen floor as well.

Afternoon taxi service and then start dinner (asparagus soup), wash up, prepare drinks for Madame and watch some family TV.  Then it was early to bed, but what would it be like if it was just Madame and i home alone, if say the other family members had a sleep over at friends or something?

Madame came home from work and commented favourably on the state of her house.  With a little curtsey i said thank you and asked if Madame would like a drink.  White wine was the order and i prepared that while Madame got changed from her business clothes into something more casual.  This is a part of being her maid i don’t like, she is never or at any rate only briefly, ever dressed up when we are together.  She gets dressed special for other people, but not poor little me who never gets to see her in stockings, skirts, sheer blouses or high heels.  Never mind, i am lucky that for her casual is still pretty smart.

While she enjoyed her wine and read her book i busied myself tidying up her clothes and preparing dinner.  Madame wished to have soup tonight and so i picked out one i knew was her favourite.  It was simple to do, but i kept to the kitchen so Madame could enjoy some time alone which i know she really appreciates even though i long to be in her presence.

After serving her dinner i was surprised when she told me to wait.  She had me stand by while she finished her soup so i could take away the dish and tray, no matter that my dinner was getting cold (although not dreadfully so as i had put the soup in a warmer).  Just standing there, waiting quietly on this wonderful, powerful, intelligent and beautiful woman sent shivers up my spine.

When she was finished i was dismissed and told to take my dinner in my study, but that i could join her later after i had washed up.  “Thank you, Madame” i happily replied, sensing that she was in a good mood and that we might have some special time together.

Once the dishes were dried and put away and the kitchen was all neat and tidy, i reported back.  Madame had picked a program to watch, however she wanted me to give her feet a pedicure and massage.  i was in heaven.  First i soaked and scrubbed and then licked and sucked until her feet were lovely and clean.  Then i was told to apply nail polish to her lovely toenails, a rich burgundy colour – not to my tastes i admit, i’m a simple bright red girl when it comes to nail polish.  After a second coat had fully dried, i spent the rest of the time until her program finished massaging her feet.

Then it was time for bed.  Madame had a hot shower first to relax her while i put away the pedicure things and again tidied up her clothes and got ready for bed as well (simple pink nightie). Would i get lucky?

Just as i was about to ask if Madame required any oral pleasure she told me that this morning had been good, but not long enough and that i was to be a good girl and get back to licking her pussy or anything else she might provide.  Oh my, i was indeed, very, very lucky.

Madame just relaxed as i let my lips, tongue and mouth worship her pussy until she had one orgasm, another orgasm, a third orgasm, and... Oh i was so excited.  i wish i could have one to.

Madame turned over and raised her bottom up by dragging her legs under her, spread so her bottom cheeks parted and let me glimpse her rose bud.  i knew she expected me to kiss it, but not just a light kiss, little flick with the tongue or even a French kiss, she expected a good old fashioned snog.  So i did, revealing in worshipping her most divine orifice as if i had just made first base with my childhood sweetheart and we were making out for the first time.  Oh my, i was in heaven snogging my wife’s arsehole.

“Enough!” Madame commanded or more correctly purred.  “Time to go to sleep.”  Quickly i rearranged the bed covers and dashed to clean my face and teeth.  i so wanted to cum, but was afraid she would be asleep before i got back.  Snuggling into bed i couldn’t help but ask “Please Madame can i have an orgasm?”  i know i’m not supposed to ask, but i had to.

“Well...” Madame said sleepily.  “You’ve been a very good maid...”  Oh my, she is going to say yes.

“But...” she went on slowly.  “Orgasms are very special.”  Instantly i agreed with her.

“And really dear, only women have true orgasms, naughty boys just spurt and make a mess and i don’t want you making a mess.”

“Yes, Madame” I said dejectedly, trying to hide my disappointment, pouting for all the good it would do me in the dark.  Then i had an idea.  “But Madame, i’m not really a boy.”

“You’re not a man, you mean.” She interrupted, but more playful than sarcastic, i think she knew what i was trying to say.

“Yes, Madame, so maybe as i’m more a girl i can still have an orgasm?”  Ever optimistic.

“Well, let’s think...”  The pause was agonising.  “You are a fake girl, a pretend girl, so, you can have a pretend orgasm.  A fake one!”  Madame was most pleased with herself.  She cuddled into me holding me tight so i couldn’t move.  “Come on Marcia, show me you love me.  Let me know you’re satisfied with our love making by faking an orgasm.  Come on, nobody well know expect you, I will think you’ve cum, I won’t notice the absence of a mess, i don’t mind, plus you won’t have to sleep in the wet spot.” As Madame chuckled and cooed i moaned and groaned and did my best at pretending to have an orgasm.

Madame’s last words as she went to sleep were that pretends are fun and that i must do it more often for her.

Post Shopping Punishment & Chores

We are back at Mistress’s house.  She starts to ask me questions about the day.  ” How did you enjoy Your day out?”

i start to answer , and She stops me.  “Your voice is pathetic tiffy.  Softer and higher.  Fetch the riding crop and the butt plug.”

i knew this was coming.  i fetch the riding crop, and bend over the table, my arse in the air.

“You get 3 for the first offence,” She says harshly as She shoves the butt plug ruthlessly into me.   She hits me hard, rapidly, i hardly have time to cry out once.

“Thank You Mistress,” i sob.

“Now, how was your day?” She asks again.

i try to answer, softer, more feminine, but i know it’s no use.

“4 this time,” they crash down on me, my arse is already on fire.

“How was your day?”

“Wonderful,” i breathe “Mistress.”

“Not bad.  But not good enough.”

She pours another 5 onto me, i’m crying out now, and in tears.

“How was your day you tiny cocked wanker of a sissy boy?”

“Fabulous Mistress, You made it into a wonderful day,” i breathe in a high, whispering voice.

“Very good tiffy.  Now speak like that all the time.  Because if you don’t, you will keep getting this.”

She gives me 6- i knew that would be the minimum, so i’ve got off lightly- so far.

“Bathtime tiffy.” 

i’ve got used to this style of command.  Why would She use lots of breath to command me when all i need is one or two words to let me know what i must do?

i scurry to Her bathroom and run a bath, testing the temperature all the time as i add bubble bath.

i light scented candles, and put on a relaxing CD of classical music.

i lay out a bath mat, and make sure there are plenty of deep, fluffy towels for Her.

i hang Her bath robe strategically where She can reach it as She gets from the bath.

“Your bath is prepared Mistress, “ i tell Her, making sure to sound as feminine as possible.

She goes to the bathroom- She doesn’t speak- why would She acknowledge my action?  i am the equivalent of a washing machine or a hoover- an energy saving device.

While She is in the bath i enter Her bedroom- i am always nervous in here as i am only allowed in on direct command.

i lay out Her clothes on the bed, carefully, and well folded.

There on the bed is an instruction for me, written in Her hand.

There are 3 tasks for me to carry out.

Firstly, i have to write out “i understand that i should obey Mistress Eleanor without question at all times” 100 times.  i go to the table, and write as quickly and as accurately as i can.  It is not a hard task- just a little tedious, but if ever i needed reinforcement of our relative positions, here it is.

Mistress comes from the bathroom.

“I’m hungry” She says.  “There is a menu on the worktop.”

She has written out what She requires for Her evening meal- i pour Her a glass of wine, and then go to make Her dinner while She watches the TV.

Soon dinner is ready- dinner for one, so i go off to carry out my second written task- to clean the bathroom after it has been used by Her.

i clean using vinegar, newspaper and my toothbrush.  She has told me to clean the toilet last- She has used it, so my toothbrush will be interesting when i clean my teeth later.  i find this task hard.  The newsprint comes off and makes the porcelain black, and the bathroom smells of vinegar.  It is one of my least favourite tasks.

i go back to the dining room, where Mistress has finished Her dinner.  The plate of scraps is on the kitchen floor, a cigarette butt protruding from it.

“Eat,” She commands, and i get down on all fours and eat my meal from the plate, like a dog.  The cigarette butt makes me gag, but i force it down.

i wash up, and Mistress takes me back to the dining room.

“Time for more feminisation tiffi, let’s start with makeup.”

i sit at the table, and make myself up.  She comments at times; wipes off my eye-liner and makes me re-apply it.

 “OK, deportment.” i walk up and down the room, a book on my head.   i know this is just for show, but it’s hard.

 “Walk into the room, say “Hello Mistress” and sit down.  Remain seated until I tell you otherwise.”

i go out.  i come back in, and breathe “Hello Mistress,” all froth and breathlessness.  “That’s it tiffi.  Well done.  There’s hope for you yet.”

i sit, and cross my legs, like a woman.  After a few minutes sitting like this it begins to hurt, but i stick with it.

 “Put another coat of nail varnish on.”

Still sitting there, i apply nail varnish- i realise i have some chips.

Eventually She lets me stand.

“It’s my bed time tiffy.  Just your last task to complete then You can go home.”

She takes me into the hallway, and i kneel facing the door.  She cuffs my hands and feet, leaving the keys on a nearby table.  She puts the ring gag in, and tightens it so i can’t move it.

Then She blindfolds me, and i hear Her set the alarm.

“When the alarm goes off, free yourself, and go home,” She says.

Then She spits in my mouth through the ring gag, and i hear Her chuckling to Herself as She goes upstairs.

i kneel for what seems like forever, drool pouring from my mouth, my body aches, the butt plug buzzes in my arse.

i can hear the timer ticking away- if i couldn’t hear it, i would swear i’d been here for hours.

At last the timer goes.

i struggle to the table, get the keys, unlock myself, remove the gag and the butt plug.

i re-dress, so i look like i did when i arrived this morning, and then i leave, posting the front door keys through the letter box as i walk towards my car.

i am dressed as a girl.  Some people have mistaken me for a girl today in public.

i smile to myself, and swing my hips jauntily as i cross the road to my car.

Mistress Eleanor Goes Shopping

i knew today was coming, but i’m still not prepared for it.

Today is the day that i go out in public with The Mistress.

i dress in “rock chick” gear.  A short leather jacket, short black skirt, knee boots.

i choose nude hold up stockings, i have to pull these up as far as i can to make sure they don’t show beneath the hem of the skirt.

i’m made up, and my hair is long and brushed.  i remember to put in long dangly gold earrings just before i leave.

i check myself in the mirror.  i look a bit slutty, but nothing too out of the ordinary.  i draw a deep breath and leave.

i drive to Mistress ‘s house, and park.

Trembling, i leave the safety of my car and walk to Her door, i ring the bell and wait.

She makes me wait at the door, but i learnt a long time ago not to ring again.

i stand patiently, and after what seems like forever She opens the door.

She looks me up and down, and frowns slightly.

“You look like a slut.  I’ll punish you for that later.”

“Yes Mistress, of course.”

i wait.

“Still, you’ll pass as a woman with the less observant.  Come on.  Walk one pace behind Me.”

“Yes Mistress.”

She strides to the car, and i follow behind.

She stops, and raises an eyebrow.

i open the door quickly, and after She gets in, i close it behind her.

In the car she hands me cigarettes and a lighter.

“Look after those.  Give Me one when I tell you. Don’t speak unless I ask you a question.  Take Me into town.”

We drive into town.  Mistress directs me to a car park, i park the car, and as quickly as seems normal to the outside world i jump out, rush round and open the door for Her.

She strides off without a word.  i lock the car and scurry after her.

As we walk, i am aware of people looking at me.  Are they seeing a man in drag?  Or a slutty woman?

A group of young men stare.  i blush- i don’t know if they want to fuck me or beat me up.

We go into a boutique, and Mistress tries on some dresses.  i stand in the corner, nervously,  the assistant looks at me out of the corner of her eye.

Mistress chooses two dresses, and takes them to the counter.  The girl rings them up, and the girl looks at us for payment.  Mistress raises an eyebrow at me, and i get out my credit card and pay.

The girl talks to me, and i answer, as short as i can, in my best girl’s voice- but she frowns at me, i think she knows i am a man.

We leave the shop and begin walking again.

i am two paces behind Mistress, when She says one word- “Cigarette.”

i pull one out of my handbag, my hands trembling, and give it to Her. She puts it in Her mouth, and i light it with the lighter.  She takes a long drag, and blows the smoke into my face.  i resist the temptation to cough.  She turns on Her heel, and i follow, carrying the bag with Her dresses in, already beginning to regret the heels i am wearing.

We go into a shoe shop.  Mistress chooses three pairs of shoes- high heeled spikes.  The girl fetches them and starts to kneel to help Mistress.

Mistress waves her away.  “It’s OK my assistant will help Me.  Kneel tiffy.”

The girl leaves and i kneel down.  i help Mistress on with the shoes, watch Her walking up and down.

Eventually She chooses a pair, and we go to the counter.

We follow the same routine, but this time the girl can hardly prevent herself from laughing out loud at me.

We go outside.

“Really tiffani, you must practice harder on your voice.  That girl clearly knows you’re a man.  That displeases Me.”

“Sorry Mistress.”  i answer in my very best girl’s voice.

She frowns and strides on.

We shop all morning, and by now i seem to be carrying an unfeasible number of bags.

Twice more She says “Cigarette” to me and i oblige.

She goes into a local bistro, and we sit down at a table.

She orders for us both.  She orders me something she knows i don’t like, and a glass of water.

After we have eaten, She says “Pay the girl tiffy, and then it’s time to visit the bathroom.”

i pay, and then follow Mistress to the toilets.  She chooses the disabled toilet and we both enter at once.

i realise why- it is private and there is a lot of room.

“Kneel.”  She points, and i kneel down next to the toilet itself.  i can feel my knees getting damp- there is pee on the floor.

Mistress adjusts Her clothing and stands over me.

“Open.”

i open my mouth, and She pees into it.

“Swallow.”

i swallow, as always.

She wipes Herself (i’m not allowed to touch Her), and She adjusts Her clothing.

“Pee if you need to,” She says

i sit- the chastity device does not allow me to stand, and after peeing i dry myself as best as i can.

We leave, and carry on round the shops.

Eventually we enter Next, and She says “Time for a change of pace tiffy.  Choose something for yourself.”

i’m surprised by this, and i just say “Yes Mistress,” before i start to think about what i should choose.

i look at the skirts, the blouses in confusion.  i can see Mistress watching me, amused at my indecision.

i turn to the party dresses.  Maybe this would do.  i pick out a blue, tight dress, short, armless.

“What about this Mistress,” i stammer.

“Yes, try it on,” she commands.

i cross to the changing rooms- “Can i try this on please?”  i am blushing and my hands are shaking.

“Yes, in here.  Shout for me if you need any help” the girl replies.

i go in and strip down to my underwear.  If she comes in now…. my chastity device is obvious through my panties.

i put the dress on.

“Come out tiffani, let Me see,” Mistress calls out.

Oh my God.  i walk out into the store, people turn to see me.  Some look away, some stare, puzzled.  They know there is something not quite right.

“Perfect tiffy.  Get changed.”

i change back, and then pay.

We walk back to the car, i open the door for Mistress as always, and we drive away.

“Not bad tiffy, but we need to work on you a bit more. Take me home and i will correct your behaviour.”

“Yes Mistress,” i reply.  There is no point arguing.  i suspect it’s going to be a long evening.

Valentine's Day Gift

i am on my way to Mistress Eleanor's for a Valentine's Day session. As usual, i am to "become amber" before leaving my home. That means full make-up, wig, pink corset, pink panties, pink garter belt with stockings, pink 5 inch heels. i am allowed a trench coat to cover myself. When this first started, i could park outside Mistress home and come in, but now i am given an address of where to park and must walk to Mistress house. Every time, it gets a little farther. As i walk down the street, i can feel my stockings slide on my legs. Heels clacking on the pavement. i have my Valentine's day gift under my arm.

 Arriving at Mistress Eleanor's door, i steady myself and ring the bell. The door is answered by one of Her staff, i don't know. She takes my gift, and instructs me to get my uniform on, go to the kitchen and follow the instructions on the counter.

 i go to the slave changing room, where my pink, PVC French maid uniform is hanging on the rack for me to get on. Quickly, i put on the dress and petticoats. There is also, my collar, and wrist/ankle cuffs there, and i click those on as well. i touch up my make-up, and head for the kitchen. There i find my list of chores for the day. It is much the same as most visits. Wipe down cupboards and counters, sweep, mop, prepare dinner.

 After some time of working, i hear the clicking of heels coming. i turn to see who has entered the room. It is Mistress Eleanor, wearing my gift, a PVC one-piece playsuit. While i know better than to look Her in the eye, i have to take a quick peek at Her in Her new outfit. i then drop to my knees, and kiss the tops of Her shoes. As i am worshiping Mistress feet, i feel Her pull my dress up over my back as She says "I have opened the other present you got for me, amber"

 With that i feel the riding crop i purchased last summer smack my bottom heavily. "Whap!!"  i continue to kiss Her shoes as She continues delivering blows to my sissy bottom, until i am sure it is bright red. Finally She stops.

"Thank you for the gifts, amber. I'm sure I will get a lot of use out of these. you will return to your duties"  Mistress says, as She leaves the room.

 i spend the rest of the evening serving as usual. Supremely happy, being under the control of Mistress Eleanor.

To be Mistress Eleanor’s Whore.

Sissy girl Helen is 38 years old, has cross dressed since childhood. In fact her mom used to dress her as a girl often. She had always wanted 2 daughters so this seemed to be the chosen route. By the time I was at senior school, I had long hair which was always styled in the same fashion as moms and my sisters. Page boy, with the fringe over my ears, curled forward on either side. On school days it was swept back. I spent weekends normally as Helen.
I recall being at Butlins in Skegness aged 13, as Helen with mom and Marion (sis). She went to great lengths to keep telling me, “Don't let boys put hands under your skirts.”.
I left home and moved to live in Derby in my late teens. Just to get away from a small village and all the gossiping. Working during the day, and walking out as a girl in the evenings, cinema, window shopping, driving around.
I met Suzzane my wife who worked in a beauty salon, I was a frequent client and she did make up and used to teach me. We married and have been for 8 years. She still helps with dressing, hair, make up but that's all.
We now sleep in separate bedrooms. Mine is more girly than hers. Since last summer I have been going into Leicester and trying my skills on the streets. Most evenings I get 2 or 3 clients. Wanking them or more recently oral.
On bonfire night my first punter made me get on my knees and take his cock in my mouth. I was so scared and worried. He was adamant so I thought, bugger it lets go for it. I loved every second, especially when I knew he was about to cum. The knowledge that I was in control of his ejaculation. It finished all too soon and yes I had swallowed most of it. So since then I have added that skill to my repertoire. I prefer clients to be dominant, I get more of a thrill when being bullied and belittled. I have known that sooner or later I must become a prostitute to satisfy my cravings, if this is not done soon then I feel I will be getting too old to start. Most clients want their whores to be on the young side.
I have wanted a master or mistress for quite a while. To be owned by someone, to be totally controlled physically and mentally would be my dreams come true.
I hope that Mistress Eleanor will train me and ensure all my spare time is spent as a whore. To work for her, to serve her and forced to earn for her would be bliss. I hope this is a long relationship and would no doubt become her  best slut. Please, please, Mistress, transform me into what I want to become and what you want me to become.

I hope that my working outfits, uniforms, are going to be both feminine and sexy. Maids dresses as produced by "Miss by Elaine", oh my god, if I were allowed to be seen in those. Mistress would have a task stopping me from constantly masturbating, I would be so aroused. Probably I would be fitted with a good chastity device, thus making sure that my pathetic cock is only used when instructed.

Bondage and punishment are two other things that really get me worked up. With a bit of luck my Mistress will realise this and keep me in a constant state of bondage while waiting for her instructions.

I Simon Simpson known as Helen Simpson give my existence to Mistress Eleanor. To be used and abused by whoever she sees fit. I pledge to perform ANY sexual act given to me and to please all her friends and clients.

I am a slut whore to be fucked by anyone.

Toilet Humiliation

sissy toilet training starts with My sissy slave making herself the prettiest she can be. Full lingerie, with stockings, heels and gloves. Hair fixed up and full make up. Then into the toilet for some thinking time. If she has taken her training seriously, the toilet will be already clean, and will not mess up her pretty face and hair.

Moving to England

 As i wait outside my now vacant apartment with just a single bag, waiting for a cab to take me to the airport, i re-live the last few weeks. i have agreed to become Mistress Eleanor's full time sissy slave, and am moving to England. All my things have either been sold or given away. My clothes for the most part have been shipped ahead. All that is left is the  few things i needed for the last couple days. The cab arrives, and i get in and instruct the driver to take me to the airport. As he pulls away, i take one last look at my old life disappearing down the street.

 i get checked in, and through security. i have to be the old male me for my passport picture and name to match up. They scan my carry on, but no one seems to notice the guy with all the female clothes in his bag.

 i find my gate and take a seat. Before i left Mistress Eleanor had sent me a letter with instructions not to open it until i am ready to board the plane. i take it out and open it up.

   amber,

   I am pleased you have gotten this far and are soon about to have your life changed forever. you will now go to the ladies room, change into an outfit more suitable for a sissy girl, and "become amber".  When you leave the restroom, you will put all your ugly male things in the rubbish.

   Looking forward to your arrival,

   Mistress

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Request from a sissy slave girl

i have always seen pictures of beautiful women wearing ballet shoes, and wanted a pair desperately. i'm sure they are terribly painful to walk in, but i don't care. That is why i would need the locking shoes. Learning to walk in them would be a challenge, i realise, but sissy girls always need challenges. Hopefully Mistress Eleanor's training will have me sufficiently trained to be able to get some soon.