The Life of a Sissy Slave

Continued from: Rise and Reign

There was much to clean-up, after Summer and I enjoyed a night and then a morning of lust together. My sissy slave, Tiffany, had his first opportunity ever, to see me with another girl. All while his little pennie remained locked in a chastity cage. 

Sissy did a good job, holding our toys and lubricant for us. I put a butt plug up Summer's ass and spanked her, while Tiffany watched. He must have been so tormented and desperate for release. 

And what of the huge mess? Well that's where Tiffany comes in.

I fully assume that Tiffany sneaks a little sniff, or a quick taste of the gusset of my worn panties. His desperation level is so intense that I actually don't blame him. I fully assume he smells and feels the delicate nylon feet of my stockings. Most male sissies have deep fetishes toward hosiery and high heels, so naturally, I make him hand-wash my delicates and polish my high heels when in slave-maid mode.

This weekend he gets the added bonus of seeing to Summer's delicates and footwear also. I’m quite certain he had a little Flight Attendant fantasy, crush on her. Her whole work universe is hosiery and heels! 

All of Andrew's elaborate sissy dresses come from Amazon or Etsy, or a lovely online store called the Sissy Boutique. At the back of the neckline zippers, there are rings to attach a padlock. His waist aprons with bows have a second padlock, and all of his ankle cuffs have a stirrup which runs under the base of his high heels, locking the shoes onto his feet. 

I enjoy that he has the autonomy to just mince around the house in his locked heels, seeing to his list of chores. It's just like white noise in the background, watching him work away, cooking and cleaning like a 1950's housewife .

With the lockable clothing in place, I can even leave the house for hours on-end while chores are being completed, content in knowing that he cannot escape the layers upon layers of satin and ruffles. 

I suppose if he wanted to escape my facility he could simply walk out the front door, but he'd then have to walk home in his maid dress and heels. Psychological bondage is so lovely!

I do make him go outside, while crossdressed, but he typically does this very quickly out of fear the neighbours might see him.

Out on the back deck there is a little more privacy, but people still have windows. Five or ten minutes serving Summer and I while we sun ourselves, is usually all he can take before he's begging us to punish or beat him, if it means he can scurry back inside to hide from the humiliation. 

We sent him back inside to clean and sanitize our sex toys. I love making him handle and clean the realistic dildos and strap on cocks, knowing he's been forced to suck them and having to reflect on the last time I fucked him like a girl.

So there you have it, the life of a BDSM sissy slave. I don't have to cook, I don't clean. My high heels and boots are always polished and sparkling, and my lingerie and hosiery is hand-washed in rose-scented water and hung to dry.

 Life is good! 

I've been asked by a few people, Summer and Cassandra in particular, how I go about "making a sissy slave". 

The answer is simple. The sissy was always there. Like a gifted sculptor, I just chipped away at the rough edges. 

I typically would not go and seek-out a sissy slave, they seem to appear naturally, you just need the all the right ingredients. And what are those ingredients you might ask? Take Tiffany for instance, nee: Andrew.

It requires a couple tablespoons of Financial District, corporate douchiness, a pinch of misogynism, and a yellow or red sports car. (a tell-tale sign of a small penis, which in the case of Andrew, I confirmed was accurate). *giggle*

Then go and cheat on your girlfriend with the local office tart.

That is how you go from this:

To this:

Andrew's girlfriend is Katrina, quite a pretty and a sexy little thing. Who doesn't like a fiery redhead?  

When she first brought Andrew to me her inner-fire was raging alright. She was out for revenge. It was all about his infidelity and wanting him punished and humiliated et cetera. We did all of that, but it wasn't until I suggested a chastity device that we really started making progress. Orgasm denial does wonders to silly, male pets. 

His process was long and required much commitment on the part of both of them. Shaving became waxing, waxing became electrolysis and with the help of Summer's fitness routine, Andrew began to develop more feminine curves and a rounded butt. He is now completely hair-free from the neck down and smooth like a girl, with more of an hourglass figure. 

Upon my request, Katrina disposed of all his male underwear and replaced them with the most delicate, feminine panties. The keys to his chastity cage are kept with me. Even if she wanted to unlock him to enjoy his tiny cock for an evening, it is literally impossible without my intervention. 

The next time you're surrounded by these presumed, alpha males, in their skinny-legged suits and outrageously colourful dress socks, see if you can pick out the one who is hiding a little secret under their façade. 

Which of them is being forced to wear panties, even stockings and garters under their suit? Which girlfriend, wife or Mistress, has their dicklette locked up in a chastity cage?

So this is how my sissy slave came to be. Monday to Friday, 9-5, he's Andrew, 24/7 kept in panties and a chastity device. 

On weekends he's sentenced to my facility as "Tiffany", where he sleeps in his frilly pink bedroom, nursing a sore bottom and weeping into his princess sheets.

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: The Receptionist