The Weekend free porn video

THE WEEKEND by Suzi (Johnson) Thomas My sense of anticipation heightens as the Grandfather clock strikes the first of seven tones, signaling the time for your arrival. Although I have had many clients over the years, the first meeting always excites me. The front doorbell rings, and I smile to myself, knowing that you will not recognize the musical piece it sounds. Even if you are a student of classical music, your own feelings of nervousness at this moment will keep you from remembering that it is the first eight bars of Tchaikovsky's 'Sleeping Beauty' ballet. Oh, yes, I know exactly how you feel as you stand there. Not only the individual you, but the greater collective you as well. In many ways, you are all alike, those of you who answer my advertisement in the selected adult publications. YOU KNOW YOU ARE A SISSY - AND SO DO I! A remarkable opportunity to fulfill your fantasy in an atmosphere of complete discretion and taste. Selected respondents will spend a weekend being maid to serve an understanding MISTRESS! Complete freedom to indulge your every desire to its fullest extent without the fear of discovery or embarrassment. The ad continues with the particulars on how to contact me, and if you are the appropriate target for the ad, you WILL respond. There have been over 100 of you passing through my tender trap, so that's why I say I know you so well. I don't accept every applicant; you must meet certain criteria before I allow you to proceed in the step by step process. The first mailing you receive is a rather innocuous letter which states in vague terms the services I provide, but you know full well, or at least think you know, what lies behind the innocent wording. Accompanying the letter is a declaration from a law firm which promises absolute safety and discretion - would you be surprised to know, even if you have the ability to check the form's references that I totally control the firm? Probably, but every one of the partners, you see, is a former client of mine. The letter asks for some personal data, nothing that on the surface would seem threatening, but in the hands of the law firm, it will enable them to delve into your innermost financial secrets. Assuming that you answer these things in a way that meets my needs, you will receive a second letter, from me, going into more detail on the delights that would await you as one of my clients. Also enclosed is a psychological profile form, cleverly disguised as a preference list in which you are asked various multiple choice questions. Without even knowing it, I learn from this form everything I need to know about how to control you. I will know whether you have friends and family that are close to you, whether you have indulged in being a sissy before and for how long, absolutely everything. Combined with the financial profile the lawyers have come up with, I make my decision. Most applicants are rejected - either there is something suspicious in their background, their finances are not in order, or they have people close to them who would inquire about them, should they drop out of sight. Because nearly half of my clients never return to their "before" life, once they have experienced a weekend with me. You see, I do deliver what I promise, and sometimes more, much more. You are standing on the steps of my mansion, tingling with anxiety and your own anticipation of what is to come in the next 48 hours. You may be berating yourself right now, thinking that the $5,000 you have paid me is exorbitant, and that you have wasted your money. But you are reassured, because the law firm has stated that your money will be returned in full if you are not completely satisfied. Hah! Not one of my clients has ever asked to have his money returned - the psychological profile eliminates those who might. I don't know what you are wearing, but you have brought no luggage with you. I promised to take care of your every need this weekend, including the "ideal clothing to allow you to indulge your every fantasy." I know exactly what you will be wearing in just a few minutes, trust me. I open the door, and greet you with a stern, "Good evening, I am Mistress Suzanne." Your eyes widen as you see what I am wearing - a black leather dominatrix outfit that molds my body into the ideal of feminine perfection, with a tight top that pushes up and exposes the tops of my perfectly formed breasts, and a short skirt that shows off my beautiful long legs. You drink in the shimmery, silken nylons that cover them, and the five inch high heels in black patent leather that enclose my feet. Long, wavy blonde hair surrounds my face and head, and you stare at my full red lips and thick eyelashes. "Come in, Sissy," I say, breaking into your thoughts, and moving you into the hallway. I call all of you Sissy, because that's what you are - a man who wants to serve as the subservient creature of a dominating woman! "Take off those ugly male clothes," I command, and you obey immediately. Your feelings of embarrassment or nervousness are subordinated to my order by the tone of my voice, and, in just a moment, you stand there, naked and defenseless before me. This is the one time when I do not know exactly what your reaction will be - erect or limp? Has the sight of my magnificent body excited you, or has your anxiety made you impotent for the moment? The reaction is about 3 to 1 in favor of erection, I've found, and that is the first sign that this will be a most exciting weekend for me. Yes, good, as your shorts come off, your pitiful sign of manhood stands straight out! You harbor some delusion that your cock would interest a woman like me - well, you'll soon know better. "So, you little clitty-cock is all hard - are you thinking about what will be touching it soon?" I ask. You nod 'yes' and a slash of my riding crop against it sends a surge of pain through you. I watch your reaction very carefully, to discover how pain affects you. Again, the element of surprise for me, and my delighted reaction, which I mask from you - the pain had made you even harder. Oh, yes, this promises to be a wonderful weekend. I stand in front of you, and continue, "what kinds of things do you want to wear, Sissy? Tight things that restrain you? ....Frilly ruffled lacy little girls things? ....Sexy evening gowns? .....Maybe a wedding gown - does that excite you?" I carefully watch your reaction to each of these suggestions, already knowing from your answers to the preference list what YOU would like to be wearing, as if it made a bit of difference in what you'll experience this weekend! Your eyes give you away when I mention the bridal gown. Ah, yes, before this weekend is over, you'll be dressed as a virginal bride, but before that happens, there's so much to do. "First, let's set some rules - you will always address me as Mistress Suzanne, but only when I speak to you first and expect a reply. Do you understand?" You nod your head, and I slash my crop against your legs. "Obviously, you didn't understand - I asked you a question - did you understand?" "Yes, Mistress Suzanne, I understand," you reply in a weak nervous voice. It is as if I can read your mind - you're asking yourself "what have I gotten myself into?" "The second rule is that you will not pleasure yourself by touching your clitty-cock unless I tell you to - after all, you're just learning how to be a sissy-girl - you don't know anything about clitties, do you?" "N....no, Mistress." You didn't expect that, did you? You anticipated a wild weekend of fulfillment of your sexual fantasies, not abstinence unless ordered. But you're learning well. "The final rule is instantaneous obedience - whatever I order you will do without question, but nothing unless ordered to, understand?" Your response is prompt this time, I'm pleased to see. "You want to express your sissy, girlish nature, I know, and you will before the weekend is over, but you can't expect to run before you learn to crawl, can you?" "No, Mistress Suzanne." "Good, then, we're in agreement - after all, we want your to enjoy your fantasy, you know." You think to yourself, "ah, great, she wants me to enjoy myself!" Well, that's true, in a way, but I'd bet we have very different definitions of the word enjoy. "Come into the first bedroom, Sissy," I say, and you silently follow me down the hall. You enter the room, amazed at what you see - its a little girl's bedroom, done in pink flowery wallpaper, with a ruffled lacy canopy bed. Clothes appropriate to your size have been laid out on the bed, all the things a pre-teen girl would wear, just in larger sizes. You start to move toward the clothes, then stop immediately, remembering the final rule. "Have you worn girl's clothes before, Sissy?" I ask. "Yes, Mistress, sometimes." "Do you like wearing girl's clothes, Sissy?" "Oh, yes, Mistress, I love to wear girl's and women's clothes." You think we are making casual conversation, but we're not - everything that you will experience this weekend will be captured by one of the video cameras strategically placed throughout the mansion, and this is the first admission I wanted taped. "Then, since you know how to do it, go get yourself dressed, starting with your panties." You've been waiting for this, to rush over to look at and touch all the pink things on the bed. You do, and I can sense your disappointment - the panties are pink, all right, but they're made of cotton. My educational background is as a psychologist, and I not only anticipate your reaction, I want you to have it. In training sissies, one must always hold out the bigger better carrot that will come next, so that the sissy willingly submits to each stage in turn. "Did you think little girls wear sexy, nylon undies, Sissy?" I ask, mockingly. "I told you that you must learn to crawl first, before you're able to run." Hope springs back to your face as you put on the pink cotton panties and undershirt. At least there is the lacy petticoat and dress to come. You stand there with your miserable clitty-cock all hard in your undies, pulling up the petticoat around your legs. You truly do look silly now, Sissy, I think to myself, as you put the dress over you head and arms. I step behind you to button up the back of the dress - no time in just a weekend for you to develop the flexibility needed by a woman to do that. You do look so pathetic standing there, a grown man in a little girl's frilly dress, and I put a pig-tailed wig on you. Better, I think, then I give you ankle socks and white patent leather shoes with straps on them to complete your outfit. I walk you over to the mirror so you can see yourself, and I innocently ask, "Do you think little Sissy is going to be a bad girl, and try on some of Mommy's makeup?" "Yes, Mistress Suzanne, I think Sissy will do that." Perfect, I think, but I say, "Try twirling around, back and forth, Sissy, so you can see your skirt and petticoat swishing around you." You do that, and even try curtseying once or twice. I bring you over to the dressing table after allowing you to indulge yourself for a few minutes, and I leave you there. I know you'll use the makeup while I leave the room for a few minutes. Of course, this is planned so that Sissy can be "bad" requiring her to be punished. When I return, I see your painted face, the cosmetics artfully applied. "What have you done, Sissy, you've used Mommy's makeup," I roar. "Did I tell you that you were allowed to do that?" Of course I hadn't, not explicitly, but you'd assumed that you had permission from my question. "Sissy, you're impossible - you'll have to be punished!" I knock you off the bench while I sit down. "Across my lap, Sissy, you're going to be spanked for what you've done." You get up quickly, and lay down in my lap. I know that the thought of a spanking, combined with the feel of my nylon and leather will drive you wild. I take the hairbrush off the dresser, allowing my breasts to press against your back, driving you even wilder. I lift your petticoat and skirt, and lower your panties, exposing your cheeks to me. The first blow lands with a resounding smack, reddening your ass. "You must thank me for teaching you, Sissy, and count each stroke," I order. "Thank you, Mistress Suzanne, one," you say. Excellent, you're learning that the pain I inflict is a gift, and must be wanted and loved to be fully enjoyed. The spanking continues, until the twenty-fifth stroke lands on your cheeks. They are almost blood-red by now, and I can feel you squirming around, rubbing your clitty cock to a climax. "What have you done now, Sissy?" feeling the wetness of your cum through my stockings. You get up, your face beet-red from embarrassment, and I am angry with you. I scream at you, ordering you to take off your filthy panties, and you stand there holding the cum-filled garment in your hands. I take them, and quickly rub the cum all over your face, making sure to push most of it through your lips and into your mouth. From your reaction, I see that you've never tasted it before. "Lick that mess off your face, Sissy," I order, and the next inevitable step is taken, when you lick off every drop of your essence. "I don't know, Sissy," I say to you, "you were just a little girl, but now I see that you like cum - you must be growing up right before my eyes - I think you have just become a horrid teenager!" Your face, so downcast from being forced to eat your own cum, brightens - another step along the way in the molding of a sissy, punish, then reward. "Take off those little girly things," I order, unbuttoning the back of the frilly dress. You again stand naked before me, your little clitty limp from its activity. It will soon be hard again, believe me! It is important to keep the client off-balance at this early stage, moving him from step to step rapidly, so that the more important lessons of the next two days will proceed as planned. I walk out of the room, commanding, "Follow me!" and you trot along behind me, like a puppy dog. I open the door to the next room, and allow you to enter. This is clearly a teenaged girl's room, not as frilly as the first, nor as tidy. I can see your anticipation of the sexy things you think you'll be wearing now, but, no, not yet, although at least the underwear in here is made of nylon. I order you to put on the clothes on the unmade bed, seeing the disappointment over the rather plain white nylon panties you find. But, you think to yourself, at least I'm feeling the touch of nylon on me. You put on the panties, and I see the rise of your clitty at their touch, and you loop the bra straps over your arms. You look at me quizzically, as if looking for me to hook your bra in back, but, after all, who is the Mistress here? You quickly realize that I'll not be helping you, and you fumble behind you, trying to fasten the hook-and-eyes. You finally manage, and you pick up the pantyhose. "Wait," I order, "are you going to put those on over unshaven legs?" You hadn't bargained for that, had you? But you remember the rules well, and realize the position you're in. Besides, you've always wanted to feel nylon covering sleek, smooth skin, haven't you? I direct you to the adjoining bathroom, where you expect to find a razor, but don't. There is a bottle of lotion on the sink, and I ask in a seductive voice, "don't you think that hair remover will do a better job for the whole weekend?" "Yes, Mistress, of course," you answer, and I instruct you in how to use the lotion on your legs. "You know," I continue in the same seductive voice that I know you can't resist, "you might want to use that on your chest as well, it'll make your bra look so much better." This wasn't really an order, though if you'd balked, I would have made it one. It's infinitely better at this stage to secure your willing participation in your downfall instead of having to order you to do every little thing. That does make for a tiresome weekend. You apply the lotion to your chest, and after a fractional hesitation, continue to your underarms and your arms as well. You give me a sweet smile, as if asking permission, and I smile back my approval of your actions. "It is mild enough to use on your face as well, Sissy," I say, and you spread generous amounts there as well. Well, it is mild, to the skin, at least, because of some special emollients it contains, but it is anything but mild to the hair it is designed to remove. After it has set on your skin for 15 or 20 minutes, you can forget about seeing any regrowth for two or three weeks. I walk over to you, ostensibly to brush your hair away from your eyes, and I see the thanks on your face for the thoughtful gesture. But, like everything else this weekend, my movements were carefully planned. I spread a little of the lotion on your eyebrows without your even feeling it! I command you to shower after letting the lotion set, and I can hear your involuntary gasp as great quantities of body hair float toward the open drain. I ask if you'd like your pubic hair trimmed in a more sissy pattern, and your "Yes, Mistress" invites me to shave and trim it into a little heart-shaped patch. You towel yourself dry, and I lead you back into the bedroom. I'm glad that you wear your hair in a longish style, so I can fully enjoy the next step. By now its almost 10:00, and I tell you that its time for bed. Disappointment again fills you, you were expecting much, much more tonight, weren't you. "Remember, you must learn to walk before you run," I say, "and you have a long day ahead of you tomorrow." You note that I said walk, not crawl, and you are cheered by the apparent progress. But I know that you've really not even begun to learn yet. "You can wear your panties and bra to bed, along with this," I say, handing you a plain white nylon nightie. You put it on, and I laugh to myself at the shock that awaits you in just a minute or two. I lead you to the dresser, and sit you down, and when you see yourself in the mirror, you say without thinking, "My eyebrows are gone!" I rock you off the bench with a hard blow to your head, further disorienting you. "How dare you speak without permission! And who's fault is it that you got the lotion on your eyebrows, if you didn't want to remove them? YOU were putting the lotion on, weren't you?" "Yes, Mistress, I did it," you answer from down at my feet. You've totally forgotten my innocent kind gesture as the cause, as you pick yourself up and sit down again. You're wondering what will happen when you go home like this, but I'm applying a thick dark green cream to your face, and saying, this is a facial mask that teenage girls use, Sissy, to cleanse and soften their skin before they go to bed. It'll harden in a few minutes, and you'll wear it all night. "It's time to put your hair up in rollers for the night, Sissy; I'll do it for you, since I'm sure you want to look pretty tomorrow. I spray on some "setting lotion" and start to wind your hair tightly in the rollers. No girl would ever wind it so tightly, but I have a special purpose in mind. Not only will you be in agony from the tightly wound rollers pulling at the roots of your hair, but combined with the "setting lotion", the damage to your hair will begin. I know that you would protest tonight if all the hair on your head disappeared along with your eyebrows, but after three applications of this lotion and the rollers, it will all fall out by Sunday night! The only hair left on your entire body will be the little heart-shaped patch. I see the wince of pain on your face as I twist your hair around each roller, and you assume that it is the normal thing all women face. "Almost ready for bed, Sissy," I say when I finish with the last roller. "But I think you might be getting your period soon, so you'd better wear this tampon in your sissy-pussy." I hand it to you, and you're not sure what to make of the slightly lubricated cardboard tube with the cotton insert. "Pull down your panties, Sissy, and I'll help you put in your first tampon." You obey, and bend over, and I insert the tampon slowly into your virgin ass. You are all tight at the unaccustomed invasion, but I wait for you to relax a bit until it slides in easily. "How does your tampon feel, Sissy?" I ask. I smile at your answer, "Its so big, Mistress!" Before this weekend is over, you'll reflect back on how tiny it really is, compared to what will be stretching your little rosebud! "Don't worry, Sissy, you'll get used to it soon, (and a lot more, I think to myself) - besides, women have to put up with it every month for years and years." I walk you toward the bed, then pretend to notice the mess the room is in for the first time. "Sissy," I say in a loud voice that startles you, "your room is disgraceful - more like a pigsty than a young lady's room. I'll bring you in some hot chocolate in a little while, meanwhile start cleaning this room up." I leave the room as you start to scramble around to tidy up. I look at your pantied, night-gowned body and your grotesque looking head with the green face mask and pink rollers. I relax for about half an hour, then bring in your special hot chocolate - the strong sedative and the cooperation inducing drug I have dissolved in it are both odorless and tasteless, but as you will be taking the drug regularly over the weekend, any lingering remnants of resistance will disappear entirely, no matter how outrageous my commands. You drink it down eagerly, not having had anything since your arrival. "Well, Sissy, you've made some progress, but I expect to see this room spotless in the morning. Good night." "Good night, Mistress," you answer, and I can see that you are already very tired from the long trip and the evening's activities. Your clitty is making a large bulge under your nightie, so I warn you not to do anything about it, as I walk out of the room. I see you returning to your cleaning, but I know that you won't be awake for more than 10 or 15 minutes. I have a glass of wine while I relax in the living room, thinking about the next step which will take place in a few hours. I go into my bedroom to change out of the dominatrix outfit into a pair of black silk lounging pajamas. My breasts push out against the material, while the rest of the outfit clings tightly to my every curve. I brush my hair until it shimmers with sparkling blonde highlights, and I fix my makeup for a slightly less severe look. You'll be confused enough when I wake you. I rest on the satin sheets, luxuriating in how the wonderfully smooth materials make my body feel. Not unlike you, I also revel in the feel of satin, silk and lace against me. I have always felt this way, and hope that it always continues. I doze off, and am awakened by the alarm I had set. It is now 4 AM, and time for your next step. I put on a pair of three inch heeled mules, and walk into the teenage room. You never did make it into the bed, having fallen asleep on the floor as you cleaned. But, of course, you didn't finish it all, you couldn't have. "Sissy, wake up!" I yell, then I kick you, not too gently in the side, "WAKE UP, YOU LITTLE BITCH!" I shout even louder. This finally sinks into your drugged brain, and you quickly get up, rubbing your eyes. "Didn't I tell you to clean this room before you went to sleep?" "Yes, Mistress," you mumble, "but I was so-o-o tired, I guess I just fell asleep." I see the wet spot on the front of your nightie when the cum that spurted out of you involuntarily landed. "And look at your nightie - you came without permission - now you have ugly gunk all over you. Take off those filthy things." You pull off the nightie and panties, and stand there wearing just the bra. "The bra, too, Sissy, you've got to be punished for your disobedience. You stand in front of me, ashamed for what you have done. "Come with me, Sissy, you're going to be grounded for this." Grounded you think, what does Mistress mean, grounded. I can't go to the movies, what ...?" We enter an all-black room, quite dimly lit. My eyes are used to it, but yours, having just awakened in the bright light, cannot make out anything. "Obviously, since you're only here for the weekend, grounding has a slightly different meaning. Put these on," I say handing you a new pair of panties. You can't see them yet, but from the feel, you just know that you are starting to really experience what you paid all that money for. They are made of wonderfully soft, smooth black satin, with three rows of ruffled lace all around them. You eagerly slip into them, loving how they feel going up your shaven legs, and their touch on your clitty-cock... Then you discover their secret: they are totally crotch-less, exposing your clitty and sissy-pussy entirely. I rip the tampon out of your rear, your passage dried from the absorption of the cotton. "Lay down on the floor, Sissy, right here," I order, maneuvering you to just the right spot. The tile floor is cold on your back, and I can feel you shivering. "Grounding here means being tied to the ground - do you deserve it for not obeying me, Sissy?" You whimper a bit, but manage to say, "Yes, Mistress." I spread your legs and tie each ankle to the U-bolt imbedded to the floor with a leather restraint. Your arms are lifted over your head uncomfortably, spread out and also secured. "I'm so cold, Mistress," you start to say, then realizing your mistake, you fall silent. "I didn't tell you to speak from that horrible mouth of yours, Sissy. And I remember what your mouth did before, eating that cum!" I take the gag I had laid out and stick it into your mouth. It is a small, but realistic penis-gag, and you have a cock in your mouth for the first time, muffling any sound. Velcro straps secure it around your head, and I put a blindfold over your eyes, further deadening your sensory perceptions. "We're almost finished, Sissy," I say, "and don't you look so girlish in your rollers, facial mask, and, of course, in your pretty frilly panties!" You picture how you look and feel the satin panties around you, and the expected reaction sets in, your cock rising through the slit in your crotch-less panties. "Pretty little sissies shouldn't have big ugly clitty-cocks showing through their panties, Sissy, we'll have to do something about that!" I put a velcro band around the top of your scrotum, not tight enough to hurt, but plenty tight enough to prevent an orgasm, while maintaining your erection. Next, I attach an ingenious device onto your cock, one that I designed myself. It consists of a metal sheath that tightens around your cock, leaving the head exposed, making sure that the blood that engorges you stays where it is. Fastened under the sheath is a long slender anal probe that I insert into your ass. Metal braces from the sheath to the probe insure that any lessening of your hardon will push the probe further into you. For the next few hours, every time you become less erect, the anal probe will massage your prostate gland, exciting you again. This will pull the probe part way out, as though you are being fucked slowly in your sissy-cunt. To complete the picture, I place headphones over your ears, through which you will hear an endless tape loop, with my voice constantly telling you about the sissy clothes you will be wearing for the next two days. By morning, you will have gone through so many repetitions of the cycle of excitement and loss of part of your erection that, even if you tried, you wouldn't be able to count them all. Your brain will be sexual mush by the time I return in the morning. I lift one earpiece and whisper, "Goodnight, Sissy," then leave you on the cold floor. When I wake up the next morning, I don another dominatrix outfit, this one consisting of a black corset that shows off my figure and breasts to best advantage. Long silk stockings encase my legs, and I slide my feet into extra-tall black patent leather pumps. I pull on a pair of satin panties, and then walk into the room. I remove the gag from your mouth, and the headphones from your ears. "Good morning, Sissy," I say softly, "your Mistress has returned." I am pleased that you do not respond, not having been asked a question. "Are you thirsty, Sissy," I ask, "after sucking on that cock all night?" You manage to croak out, "Yes, Mistress, very thirsty." "Open your mouth, then Sissy, and I'll give you something to drink." You do as I command, and I crouch down over you, facing your engorged cock. "Does Sissy want to come, too?" I say softly. "Oh, yes, Mistress, yes, please!" you whimper. I direct a stream of my urine into your open mouth, and removing the velcro band and the sheath from your cock, I stroke your clitty-cock once, twice, and you writhe in ecstasy from the triple sensations of orgasm, ass-probe and a piss-filled mouth! You keep your mouth fully open to drink every drop of my piss, I notice with satisfaction - yes, this is going very well indeed. I stand up, fixing my panties, then I release you from your bonds. I assist you in getting up, and bring you to the third room. I am very kind to you, speaking in a soothing voice, reassuring you that you're making wonderful progress toward sissy-hood. It is best when a Mistress shows compassion as well as fury, so that the subject knows that he can see either side, depending on how well he behaves, and never becomes prone to despair. You are sitting at a dressing table, and I quickly remove the curlers from your hair, leaving you with a tightly curled feminine-looking almost-permed hairdo. A few sprays of the "setting lotion" and a little brushing, and that is done. I gently peel off the ugly facial mask, which is also formulated to do more than the normal pore-tightening and cleansing. Special ingredients, similar to those found in meat tenderizer, have been added to the mask. These ingredients soften the facial tissue incredibly, leaving you with glowing radiant skin. The tight masculine skin surface has been partially digested, leaving you with soft, truly feminine skin. You look in the mirror, seeing first the permed hair, but then the difference in your face. It is smoother and softer, more girlish looking than it was just a few short hours before. After the horrors you endured last night, it is again time for the carrot, and I ask you if you would like to be totally dressed as a woman today. "Oh, yes, Mistress, please, yes!" you exclaim. "Well, let's see what's in the closet for daytime wear." We walk over and I open the door; you can barely contain your excitement, as you look through the dozen dresses inside. You choose one, a green knit dress that will cling to your body. "OK, Sissy, that will look lovely on you with the right under- things. Pick out what you'd like to wear underneath from that drawer," I say, pointing to the dresser. You choose an emerald green bra and panty set, holding them up for my approval. "That will go nicely, Sissy, except that that bra is a pushup style, and you don't have much to push up, unfortunately. Unless ..." I pause for a moment, then continue, "you would like to have breasts, Sissy?" "Oh, I really would, Mistress." "We can arrange that, Sissy, because I want you to experience your fantasy this weekend." I take a pair of silicone breast forms from another drawer, and pretend to ponder the next question. "Sissy, we can just put these inside the bra, but if you would like me to, I can attach them to your chest so that you can truly experience what it feels like to have breasts. Which would you prefer?" "Real breasts, Mistress? I can have real breasts? I would love that!" Excellent, you've made the right choice. I use a tube that is labeled 'water-soluble adhesive' making sure that you can read it, and be comforted by the fact it is supposed to be removable. It isn't, of course. The glue is very much like CrazyGlue, formulated to create an unbreakable bond between the breast forms and your chest. It can be removed, but only with the proper solvent. I glue the forms onto your chest, and the glue molds them to you, leaving a nearly invisible line around the soft edges. Your cock rises to attention when you see your new breasts, and you quickly put on your lacy bra and panties. You preen in the mirror at your titties for a while, jiggling and shaking them as their weight pulls on your chest. I break into your reverie: "Sissy, to make that dress look good on you, we're going to have to pull in your waist. This cincher should do the trick." I direct you to lay face down on the bed, on top of the cincher, which laces in the back. You feel the constriction of the cincher, drawing in your waist by a good six inches. You struggle to catch your breath, but when I am finished with the lacing, your figure is much more woman-like. You put on a pair of sheer beige pantyhose, and a half slip. The sensation of the slip, excites your already inflamed cock even more, and you eagerly slip the knit dress on. From the shoulders to your feet, you do look like a woman for the first time. I give you a pair of green pumps with a medium heel, about two inches high, and you put them on. Except for the lack of makeup, you do look so femme! I solve the lack of makeup easily, applying a light daytime look, but concede to your sissy nature by using a very red lipstick that I know you'll love. I glue nail tips on to your own nails, and use a matching red polish. When everything is done, I bring you over to the mirror to see the whole wonderful picture. You adore the new you. from the curly perm to your classic pumps, you see the woman that you can, and always wished to be. We go downstairs, you walking rather gingerly in your heels, and we breakfast together. This is a relaxing morning, and we spend time, almost as friends or equals, looking through various women's magazines and catalogs at all kinds of frillies and finery. We have a bite for lunch, and as the phone rings, I say, in an offhand way, "Sissy, I know how excited you are, why don't you go take care of that in the bathroom, while I answer the phone?" You jump at the chance, as I answer the prearranged ringing of the phone. You return in a couple of minutes, and I'm pleased to notice that you've taken care to rearrange and fix yourself up. "I'm afraid that was some bad news, Sissy," I say, "my maid was scheduled to come in and do a few things this afternoon, but she's ill. I wonder ... would you like to take her place?" "Of course, Mistress, I'd love to." I am almost teasing, because I know what's going through your mind, when I ask, "would you like to wear her outfit, Sissy, while you do her chores?" I don't know why, but the French maid outfit is the single costume beloved by all you sissy-boys. I'll admit that its sexy, but I think what turns you on the most is the subservient position it puts you in. You walk with me into the fourth room, and I mention that the maid is smaller than you are, and that her outfit may be somewhat uncomfortable and very tight. "That won't bother me, Mistress, I'll love it anyway." I direct you to undress, re-assuming a more superior role, and you quickly comply. Standing naked in front of me, I'm glad to see that the release I permitted you has left your clitty limp. "First, we'll just tuck you back," I say, tying a black ribbon around your limp organ and pulling it back between your thighs, out of sight. I get out a severe black corset which will pull your waist in so much that you'll think the waist cincher you wore before was like a pair of baggy pants. I help you on with the straps, then have you lay down on the bed. The corset goes from the hips all the way up, and you feel the compression as I begin to lace it up. As I move up toward your waist, I hear you suck in your breath , and I tell you not to hold it in, because that expands your chest and body, making it worse. You relax, and I continue the lacing. Your waist, about 32 inches at the beginning is pulled further and further in, until you have been reduced to less than 22 inches. I continue lacing the heavily boned corset up to the top, until your entire torso is confined within it. You roll around a little, feeling the sensation of your breasts under you, filling and spilling out of the cups. You need assistance to get up off the bed, so restricting is the corset. I help you by rolling sheer seamed black nylons over your legs, and putting a pair of sissy panties over your stockinged and gartered body. The black satin panties have five rows of ruffled white lace around them, and will clearly show under the maid's dress. I lift the dress over your head, and the tops of your breasts push up over the low-cut neckline. Satin sleeves caress your arms, and you look in wonder at the white lacy accents at the neckline, cuffs and hem, and at the attached crinoline slip that lifts out the micro-mini skirt. "I'm afraid that the only shoes that really go with that outfit are these, Sissy," holding up a pair of black patent leather 6" spikes, with ankle straps. Your eyes betray the lust you have to wear them, and I slip them onto your feet, locking them in place with the small padlocks that close the straps. You can barely walk over to the dressing table to be made up in the ultra-high heels, but when you are settled in, I quickly remove the daytime look and proceed to transform you into the slutty-looking creature you really want to be. "I think this blonde wig will look so much better on you," I say, placing it on your head. While you think about how it will look on you, I glue individual lashes onto your own, with the same glue that I used on your breast forms. They will stay firmly in place, giving you the look of very thick, full natural lashes. I draw eyebrows on with a permanent marker, giving you very high arched, clearly feminine brows. You're done, and I walk you over to the mirror to see the completed picture. You are your own, and every man's dream fantasy, and I let you admire yourself for a while, before saying, "Come on, Sissy, there are chores to do." And then I list an impossible list of housework to be done, and send you on your way. mincing and swishing like the sissy-maid you are. I watch in amusement as you prance around with your feather duster, hips swaying from the impractically high heels, body erect from the restraining corset. After an hour or so, I call out, "Sissy, come here!" and you reenter the room. "Yes, Mistress?" you ask. "You are just impossible you've barely made a dent in the work, and I'm having some people over tonight - I can't tell you how angry I am." "I'm sorry, Mistress Suzanne, I'm doing my best." "I don't think so, Sissy, you're as bad as my regular maid - lazy and ungrateful! You need to have a reminder who's the Mistress around here!" I can see tears beginning to form in your eyes, not from the fear of punishment, but rather from having disappointed me. "Come with me, Sissy," I command. I take you into the fifth room, which is empty, except for a padded sawhorse in the middle of it. "Pull down your panties, Sissy, and bend over." You comply, anticipating only part of what is to come. "I find myself having to do this to my maid quite often, to remind her of her place in life," I say, as I begin to insert the butt plug into your ass. You wriggle around a little, because it is larger than anything that has yet invaded you, but it is finally secured in place. I take a paddle, and begin to smack it hard against your filled ass, driving the plug into you with each stroke. I am glad to hear you thanking me and counting the strokes without my having to remind you. Twenty-five blows are sufficient to bring you to tears - thank God for waterproof mascara, or I'd have to re-do your makeup! "Now you can just continue on with your chores, but I hope you'll do a much better job now, with your sissy-cunt filled to remind you of who's the Mistress, and who's the maid." You totter off to begin again, and I can see you're desperately trying to please me, but about half an hour later, I again confront you with your inadequacy. "I swear, Sissy, you are worthless, you can't seem to do anything right! Pull down your panties and come here - you need a bigger reminder I guess." You stand bent over in front of me, expecting more paddling, but instead of that, I attach a thin hose to an opening in your butt plug. There is a squeeze ball at the other end, and I pump air into the plug, expanding it by about fifty percent in diameter and about an inch in length. You are truly filled now, as your rosebud expands more and more. "Now get back to work, Sissy," I order, and you again totter off, your body moving around the butt plug. It is now the size of a small cock inside you, and you are thinking that you couldn't possibly take in anything larger. But you are so wrong, my sissy-slut maid, and three more times that afternoon, we repeat the process. By the time it is fully expanded inside you, it is a full eight inches long, and over two inches around! It is now early evening, and I call you back in. "Sissy, I was going to let you attend the little party I'm having tonight dressed as a normal woman guest. But, because of your total inadequacy this afternoon, you'll continue as my maid and serve me and my guests. But I will be kind enough to remove your butt plug, though. Do you understand?" You mind races, thinking perhaps of the advertisement that promised discretion and no embarrassment. But you do love your darling maid's outfit so, and your servile nature makes you want to be dominated and humiliated, and you answer, "Yes, Mistress Suzanne, I understand." I release the air from the plug and pull it out, relieving you of that pressure. But the other pressure, on your tied back clitty remains, the satin panties having been rubbing on it all afternoon. I give you your instructions on the proper way to act with my guests, closing with, "remember, Sissy, I want my guests to have a good time, and you'd better do anything they want to insure that they do. Do you understand, Sissy?" "Oh, yes, Mistress, I do, I will, I promise!" The guests start to arrive shortly thereafter, and you greet each one at the door, as instructed with "Good evening, I'm Mistress Suzanne's maid, Sissy. I'll do everything I can to make sure you enjoy this evening's party." Not trusting you to cook, I have had a caterer deliver a sumptuous meal for my guests, and you serve it flawlessly. I instruct you to eat the dinner that I especially prepared for you, and you go into the kitchen and gulp it down, before returning to clean up. There is, of course more of the drug in the food and drink - you'll need it to survive the rest of this evening, I'm afraid. When everyone has finished, and the table has been cleared, one of the women says, "Suzanne, that was delightful, I enjoyed it so much. Eating good food is such a sensual experience, though, that I'm afraid I have a problem." "And what might that be, Lorraine?" I ask, reacting to the scripted line as though hearing it for the first time. "I find myself in the uncomfortable state of having one appetite satisfied, while another is still raging. Do you think your maid would be so kind as to ..." Her voice trails off, and I ask you sharply, "Sissy, Mistress Lorraine is horny, please get under the table, and satisfy her hunger with your sissy tongue!" The thought of eating a pussy turns you on, doesn't it you sissy-slut, as you almost dive beneath the table, burrowing your head under her dress. You find she is not wearing panties, and when she parts her thighs, you begin to eat her cunt. You lick and lick, toying with her real clitty until she grasps your wigged head tightly against her and comes. Her cries of passion reverberate, and before you know it, you are going around the table servicing each of the other four women guests. You bring each of them to orgasm, then hear one of the men complain, "Suzanne, that's just not fair, what about us guys?" "Sissy, you heard Master Tony, get to work!" You hesitate a moment at the thought of having to suck a real cock for the first time, but remembering my instructions, you unzip his pants, and take his rod into your mouth. "Make sure that you don't get his pants messy, Sissy," I order, and you drink every drop of his cum. Gagging a little, you proceed around the rest of the table, the perfect little sissy cocksucker, bringing each of them to climax. You find yourself excited by what you are doing, knowing what a real sissy-slut you are. You get progressively better with each blowjob, until every guest has been temporarily sated. I order you to clean yourself up, and you leave the room for a short while. When you return, I know how excited your tied up cock is, and I tell you to follow me. "My guests would like some more entertainment, Sissy," I say, leading you into a room that you were not permitted to enter when you were doing your chores. And no wonder I hid it from you - it is a fully equipped dungeon! The men quickly secure your hands to a post in the center of the room, lifting you almost off the floor, perched on just the tips of your high heels. Your panties are pulled down, and my guests begin to whip you with the various instruments I have provided to them. You attempt to count the blows, but quickly become confused, and lose track. I don't mind, though, there is no way you could possibly keep up. You are untied, and the true abuse begins. I know what is coming, as you are lashed down on a padded bench face up for what is to come next. "I need to go to the ladies room, Suzanne, but I don't want to miss anything," Lorraine, the chief instigator says, and I motion toward your sissified mouth. "Use Sissy as your toilet, Lorraine, she loved drinking my piss this morning, didn't you, Sissy?" You know exactly what is going to happen now, but you have been so beaten down into submission and the cooperation inducing drug has so taken over your will, that you meekly say, "Yes, Mistress." Only some of the guests need to relieve themselves, three of the women and two of the men, and you manage to drink down most of the streams of urine that threaten to drown you. Then, one of the men starts to do what you have been fearing, he loosens his belt and pulls down his pants. Positioning his ass directly over your mouth, you gasp in horror as the huge brown turd begins to come out of him. You shut your mouth, exhibiting resistence for the first time at this ultimate degradation, but I press your nostrils closed until you are forced to open your mouth to breathe. The end of the turd slides past your lips, and down into your throat. Harry is marvelous, isn't he, how he can let his entire bowels empty in one long seemingly never ending turd? You want to throw up, but a piece of duct tape applied to your mouth seals the foul stuff inside you. You are crying openly now, as we leave you lying there for a while to contemplate your miserable state. You truly are a mess when we return, and Lorraine offers to help fix you up, and the other women join in. They untie you, treating you rather kindly now, and they take you away. You are led into another room, a regular bedroom, and they wash off your face and change your wig. Your maid's outfit is removed and you stand before them, wearing your undies and the ribbon around your still tied back cock. "Let's see what we can put on her, girls," one of them says, and they look in the closet. "Oh, look, I know this is not really what Sissy might like, but isn't this gown just beautiful?" Lorraine holds up a black satin evening gown. "Would you like to look like a real woman, Sissy?" she asks. "Oh, yes, Mistress Lorraine, I would love to wear that gown!" you exclaim. They quickly put it on you over the tight corset, and your breasts are showing at the top of the gown, which is form fitting to the waist. The skirt, with its attached crinoline petticoat fits you like a dream come true, and they quickly complete your make over with cosmetics. Lorraine takes you by the arm, and you all walk back into the living room. "Why, Lorraine, doesn't Sissy look gorgeous in that gown," I say, "you know she might be the prettiest one here tonight!" You blush at the unexpected compliment, and Harry chimes in, "she is so pretty, she's getting me all hard just thinking about her." You expect that you'll be employing your newly developed cocksucking talents when he says that, but before you know what's happening to you, you find yourself laid face down across the arm of the couch, with your panties down around your feet. This is your ultimate moment, Sissy, when your sissy-pussy gets fucked by real cocks for the first time! After the first two men have pumped themselves to orgasm in your now-screamingly painful ass, the women strap on dildos, and begin in on you, while some of the men begin to fill your mouth with their cocks. You again become a mess, covered with tears, cum and pussy juice, but it seems to go on forever. I, of course, never partake in these activities - satisfying your Mistress must only be permitted as the culmination of your weekend! Finally, when the last guest has been sated, they say goodnight and thank me for the wonderful party. They each thank you as well, giving you a little pat or caress of affection. I treat you very kindly as well, helping you move your abused body into a bedroom, and helping you off with your things. In spite of the agony you've been forced to endure, I see how your rigid cock springs up when I untie the ribbon. "Would you like to come now, Sissy?" I ask in a gentle voice. "Y ...yes, Mistress, I need to come so much!" "Why don't you tell me how much you liked serving my guests tonight then while you make yourself come? But take your time, I want to hear everything." And so you stand there, slowly stroking your cock, as you recite how much you loved each of the abuses that was heaped upon your sissy-self. I don't even say a word as your cum gushes out of you, on your hand and the floor, until after you automatically lick every drop from your hand and the rug, without being told to. "You really do love being a Sissy, don't you?" I question, and you look up at me from the floor, with adoring eyes, and breathe, "Oh, yes, Mistress Suzanne, I really do." You are so totally exhausted by that time that you don't even notice that the supposedly water-soluble glue holding on your breast forms didn't even loosen in the bubble bath. I help you into a nightie, give you a glass of warm milk, again put your hair into the rollers and smear on the facial mask. You sink into your bed, and before I can even reach the door, I hear your breathing settle into the rhythmic pattern of sleep. You are terribly sore when you wake up, and I continue treating you kindly for a while. The drugs you have been taking are constantly working, however, and you feel restless, just sitting around in a satin robe, nightgown and panties. You look at me inquiringly, but know better than to speak without permission. Finally, I recognize your longing and I ask, "Sissy, do you have something you want to say?" "M ... Mistress Suzanne, I ... t ... this is my last day here, and I do want to fully experience being a ... sissy, what may I do to serve you?" Good, no, excellent. Even though you want something, you phrase it properly, as what you can do to serve me. You'll be rewarded for that. "Well, Sissy, I think that we should spend the day just doing girl-things, teaching you a little bit about makeup and clothes, trying on a whole bunch of things. I mean, I'm assuming that you'll dress like a sissy sometimes in the future, now that you've had your first taste of it." "Oh, yes Mistress Suzanne, I never knew what a sissy I really was until you showed me. I just love it so much I'd like to do it all the time, almost!" I squeeze your hand as I lead you into yet another room, and I start to prepare you. Your skin looks very radiant by now, after the second nights facial, and some of your hair comes off in the brush when I comb out your rollered hair. We spend the rest of the morning doing just what I'd suggested, breaking only for a quick lunch, then hurrying back for the afternoon. You try on all kinds of frilly, silky undies and a series of dresses and gown. I help you by suggesting the appropriate foundation garments to mold your body into a womanly shape under each, and you become reasonably adept with cosmetics by the end of the day. We sit down to a light dinner, and you do look especially lovely: a firm all-in-one holds you properly under the skin-tight red sheath gown you're wearing, and your nylon-clad feet are covered by high-heeled red shoes, and your head is crowned by a wavy long blonde wig. Your makeup is perfect, and I begin to tingle with the anticipation of our after dinner activities. "Sissy, remember when I asked you what kinds of things you would like to wear?" "Yes, Mistress, of course I do." "I thought that the idea of wearing a wedding gown seemed to fascinate you - would you like to do that tonight?" You are speechless - that would be a dream come true! You can only nod you head 'yes' not trusting yourself to speak. I smile and lead you to a bedroom done entirely in white. "Let me help you out of those things, Sissy," I say, unzipping the red sheath. You stand there numbly as I enclose your body in a tight, white corset, and help you on with white stockings and panties. The billowing white crinoline petticoat takes your breath away, and when I help you step into the satin and lace white gown, you can only close your eyes with your happy thoughts. You do look truly lovely, and I run my hands over your sweet body, so virginal, yet so promising of ecstasy beneath your finery. I hand you a glass of champagne, and we toast the bride. I am wearing a tight black sheath dress, and as we stand next to one another, we are a study in contrasts - you, blonde with your white gown and me, with my long black silky hair and matching gown. My hand rubs your crinolined and satined behind, and hesitantly, your hand comes up and cups my firm round breast. I permit you this liberty, and the next, when I give a soft groan from your touch, "May I ... may I serve you, Mistress?" "Yes, Sissy, you may," I say, and I turn so that you can unzip my gown. You take it off me, and begin to remove my panties, which are the only garment I wear underneath. You are kneeling in front of me as you lower them, and I smile as I see the shock on your face when my cock springs up at your face! You had no clue that my womanly body held this surprise in store for you, did you, Sissy? My cock is large, larger by far than you've ever seen before, a full ten inches long and two and a half inches around. My control has been perfect all weekend, keeping it hidden beneath the panties I've worn, but I have now allowed it to be free. "Mistress, I ... I ... never ... I," you say, and I gently pull your sweet red lips toward it. Your mouth surrounds it, and it slides down into your throat - I can tell that you've learned your lesson well, as you send spasms of ecstasy through me. I push your lips away, and say, "I want to be inside my bride now." We walk toward the bed, and you lay down, allowing me to remove your panties. I leave everything else in place, and put the tip of my cock, lubricated by your mouth against your rosebud. I slide the tip inside, knowing that when I am fully inside you, you will feel like a telephone pole is splitting you in two. I put on a little K-Y jelly, and the shaft slides ever so slowly inside you. You scream with pain, like a virgin having her cherry taken, but I continue my relentless journey inside you. When I am fully inside you, I pause, and see you looking at me with what can only be described as love in your eyes. "Oh, yes, Mistress, please, yes," you cry, and I begin to slowly move in and out of your tight hole, gradually increasing speed until my piston-like cock shoots my searing hot essence deep inside you. I lie on top of you, your nyloned legs resting over my shoulders, your high-heeled white pumps resting on my back. After a while, I begin to withdraw, but your hold me close to you with your arms and legs. "What's the matter, Sissy," I ask, and you blurt out, "please fuck me again, Mistress, ... if you would like." My cock begins to move in rhythm to the motions you are making with your hips, and I thrust deep inside you several times, then abruptly pull myself out, and move up over your body, so that my cock is brushing your lips. You do not hesitate at taking my length, so recently removed from your ass, into your mouth and you play with my firm, full breasts, until a second giant load of cum spurts into you, filling your mouth and spilling onto your lips. We rest like that for a few moments, until I withdraw myself. You look longingly at the weapon you now love so much, and lick a last creamy white drop from its tip, before it moves out of the range of your ruby lips. I help you out of your things, and we don matching white nightgowns. I set your hair in the rollers for the final time, and again apply the facial. I join you in the bed, and I can tell from your eager hugs and caresses that you again want to be penetrated. I again give you what you so desperately want, and, sliding my hand between us, I stroke your erection until you join me in ecstasy. We toast again with champagne, yours laced with the drug and sedative, and then we drift off to sleep. Just before you fall off, though, I hear you murmur, as if to yourself, "I love you, Mistress Suzanne, I love you so much!" I wake long before you come out of your drug-aided slumber, and I look fondly at you. You think that you have but a few hours left with me, I think to myself, but I've decided that you will be one of the ones who will remain. When you do wake up, you think that your weekend is drawing near to an end. I have gone into the kitchen for coffee, and in a few minutes, you join me. "Did you have a good sleep, Sissy?" I inquire. "Ah, yes, Mistress, I did, but ..." "But what, Sissy?" "I almost wish that it didn't have to end, Mistress, I really do." I give you a hug, and say, "Oh, my dear, sweet little Sissy, in the real world, don't all good things have to come to an end?" "I guess so, Mistress." You sip the coffee I give you and we sit there in silence for a while. "I guess you'd better start to get ready, Sissy," I softly say, and I send you out to shower and prepare. Your loud "Mistress, Mistress!" that comes about ten minutes later doesn't surprise me - I am expecting it. "What is it, Sissy dear?" I ask, as I enter the bathroom where you are showering. "I can't leave here like this," you say. "Why whatever do you mean, Sissy?" You open the stall door, and I see that your hair has all fallen out, and your breasts are still firmly glued to your chest. "What happened, Sissy?" "I don't know," you sob. I was washing my hair, and it just came right out of my scalp. And the glue didn't wash off either." You pause, then continue, "my eyebrows are gone, too - my God, Mistress, I'm a f ... f ... freak!" I comfort you, hugging your wet body close to me, "No, sweet Sissy, you're not a freak at all. You may have the Sinead O'Connor look, but you're certainly not a freak, dear." "But I can't go back home looking like this, I - you - we have to do something!" I pretend to ponder what the options are. "I don't know what caused this," indicating your head, "and your eyebrows will grow back soon, I'm sure. The manufacturer of the glue must know what we can do to remove it - I'm sure we can work everything out today, so that you can be on your way." "Can't I stay here for a while, until I - or at least my face looks normal? My skin feels so soft and strange, and with no eyebrows - I just can't go back, I can't!" You burst into tears, as I tell you that there is another client scheduled to arrive later today, and that it is absolutely out of the question. "But I'll give you anything you want - oh, please, let me stay for a while." Again I ponder, and finally say that I'll be losing the money if I have to cancel the new arrival, and I just don't know ... "I'll make it up to you, I'll pay the money, I have enough to pay, if only you'll let me stay!" I know you do, of course, you inherited plenty from your parents, and you have no living relatives or close friends who'll miss you. You sign the paper I put in front of you without even a glance, so desperate are you for a refuge, and you willingly agree to continue on the same terms as before, when I explain that I'm used to having my own way at all times, and do not wish to share my house with anyone, except a perfect slave who will cater to my every whim. "Why don't you get dressed then, Sissy - oh, by the way, I've fired my maid, so I'm afraid you'll have to take her place for a while." "Oh, I'd be happy to, Mistress, anything to make you happy with me. I decide I'd like to see you in your pink satin maid's outfit today, and I take it out. You've already found and inserted the expandable butt plug, and as I lace you into the white corset, I see your smile reflected in the mirror. You do know that you've found your new home, I think to myself, at least for a while, until I tire of you.