Introduction to Sissies II
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Introduction To Sissies III free porn video
Introduction to Sissies III
By latexslut
John Phillips sat swaying in his chair, trying for now, to
look docile, sleepy even, looking at the floor. He was
afraid to look at Chanazene's eyes, Mistress Chanazene, he
reminded himself warningly. Rocking in pain, roiling in
emotion and with a feeling of edging fear creeping up on
him, like low tide rising. It wasn't the pain of the blows
he had received from the two lovely ladies besides him that
hurt. The pain was in his mind and came from the idea that
Maria, his wife, had betrayed him like this.
We could have fixed it, he thought. She could have divorced
me. She could have loved me better. She made me go out! If
she had been there when I wanted her, that spic slut! She's
no better---
"Wait! I read your thoughts, sissyuseless. I read them
well," Mistress Chanazene stood up behind her desk, now
revealing that her skirt was micro, and her thighs slim and
attentive. John Phillips eyes darted up and noticed, and
Mistress Chanazene noticed that he noticed. She hissed,
"Don't be looking where you are not allowed, sissyuseless."
John Phillips gathered himself up, looked down, but with
another tear falling, and playing the game, but he wasn't
playing the game. The tear was real. "Sissyuseless is
sorry, Mistress Chanazene."
"Better, but still," Mistress Chanazene dragged again on
her cigarette, sat down again, and smiled. "You have a
long, long road ahead of you, useless one."
"Yes, Mistress Chanazene. Sissyuseless knows this."
"Ms. Yellow, go find latexsissy. Show our newbie the
foolishness of disobedience. Disobedience of thought, and
of course, disobedience of act."
"Of course, Mistress Chanazene. Immediately." Ms Yellow
slapped John Phillips casually on his head, and laughing,
clicking away, unkeyed a door and stepped through it,
closing it behind her.
Mistress Chanazene leaned forward. "It will be better for
you to know this before, sissyuseless, than after. Your
wife expects a positive result from this education. Not a
wreck."
John Phillips heard this, but continued to look down,
putting down his anger. Not now. Not now. Be docile, get
these handcuffs removed, and then make the play.
I can't wait to smack this bitch. All of them even. And
then outta here.
"Look at me, sissyuseless," Mistress Chanazene said,
quietly. So quietly. Mesmerizingly.
John Phillips eyes rolled up, over the mahogany desk, over
Chanazene's pert breasts, lean neck, swept red hair, to her
eyes. And flinched. They were brimming with benign, casual
evil, like tears ready to flood over with contempt. But at
the same time, he thought, he could not be sure, that there
somewhere, was lust and love and even kindness. He looked
for almost half a second before his eyes, his powerful
eyes, sparked away. I am wrong, he thought, but even if I
am right, I can use this.
The door opened with a click and Ms Yellow, dressed in a
spangling yellow PVC mini dress, entered, dragging a
tottering thing behind her.
Mistress Chanazene sipped from her glass, dropped her used
cigarette into the ashtray on her desk, got and lit
another, placing it elegantly into her holder. She leaned
back on her chair, put her legs up on the desk and crossed
them. And smiled. This always happened.
John Phillips didn't notice any of that. His eyes were
pulsating on the strangeness of the individual tottering
before him. Suddenly his eyes hurt, his ears hurt, and he
felt the handcuffs become like the weights of a stone in
that rising tide.
"Ca I thuck your cock?" the thing asked, crazy eyes
alighting on him, hungry.
"No, latexsissy, not today," said Ms Yellow.
"I'm sorry," it mewled, and instantly tears poured from
it's eyes.
John Phillips jaw had fallen, fallen and fallen. A low moan
escaped that no one heard. The thing was tottering on
ballet heels that were knee high tight leather boots. Baby
step back, baby step forward, shaking.
"Sissyuseless," Mistress Chanazene was reclining with glass
and smoke. "This is what happens, if you don't learn." She
laughed. "Latexsissy fought all the time. And every time,
we just had to add. Something. Now she's got too much. Too
bad. Roam your eyes a while, dear."
He did. He couldn't help it. He had always loved Maria in
her high heels, but this was extreme. He raised his gaze.
Tan stockings went under the leather skirt that it wore.
They appeared to be made of latex. The skirt itself looked
narrow and tight - no wonder it couldn't stand still. That
led to the corset, made of leather, looking impossibly
tight, long and narrow, with buckles, laces (he couldn't
see the back to see if the laces met, but he felt sure that
they did, the waist was so narrow).
A conversation continued behind his eyes and ears.
"Latexsissy, why can't you come," Ms Yellow asked,
chidingly.
"Becauth I'm bad, mithreth yellow."
The corset perched its breasts. Huge. Such that would put
Dolly Parton to shame. They were pushing against a clear
latex blouse that ended with a black latex collar. Inside,
where the breasts weren't pushing, it looked almost milky.
The nipples pushing so pointedly looked cross-stitched with
nipple rings. Too many to count.
Ms Yellow laughed, "Why are you bad, latexsissy?"
"Becauth i want to come! Stho badly. May i may i, pweath,
mithtreth yellow?"
John Phillips eyes were drawn. He noticed that the breasts
were slightly shuddering. His eyes moved up. The person
called latexsissy had the most elaborate face he had ever
seen!
Ms Yellow laughed again, "No. You can't, latexsissy. Not
until you are good!"
"I'll be good, Mithreth. I will. I prwomith. May i like
you?"
Mistress Chanazene smoked her cigarette, silently watching
and gently fingering herself outside her dress. I love
this, She thought, and laughed silently. More is better.
John Phillips saw this: The make up was so heavy and
colorful, of every color of the rainbow, lips in red and
crimson and lined with dark umber, eye shadow of hues of
red and purple and blue and light blue and orange and more,
eye linger lengthening the eyes, coating the eyes, rounding
the eyes; lashes almost a half inch long, clumpish and
cheap. The rouge was so strong, of purple and pink and
crimson. To John Phillis, it was divinely beautiful. Maria
would have looked slutty like this. More than slutty.
Usable. But then he recollected. This was a man? He noticed
that the lips were quivering and latexsissy was sweating.
It then hit him like a wave, as things began to jell. Oh
no. Oh Gawd no. The make up was tattooed.
He could hardly see its ears. They were covered with
piercings. Long danglings, hoops, studs, round and
connected they continued, over and diminished and constant.
Silver and Gold.
"No. You may not like me, latexsissy. When will you be
good?"
It curtsied, "Alwayth! Alwayth, Mithreth." The smile of
hope that had been there, was crushed, and tears flowed
again. "I mean, I am good if I don't want to come, and then
I can, but I alwayth want to."
"Which means?"
"I'm bad, Mithweth Yellow. I'm stho sthowwey. "
The hair was wild, with red and blond streaks, with little
cheap silver adornments in it, like Christmas ornaments.
"Do you want to come?"
"Oh yeath. I mean oh no. I..."
And John Phillips saw it begin to cry again. The changes
were startling and rapid. First an exciting, hungry light,
followed by tears. Over and over again. It reminded John
Phillips of a blinking Christmas light. He blinked, and
rolled his eyes over to Mistress Chanazene, questioningly.
"Question?"
He looked down, fearful. Nodded.
The clear latex blouse was accentuated by tan elbow length
latex gloves. The tips were cut off. Extremely long painted
red nails poked out. They were chipped and damaged. Now he
saw why. Every time the sissy tottering before him said
something, it clattered its nails together involuntarily.
Nervousness, he thought, but it was weird. Weirder.
Weirder.
Playing a game that he now thought he might have to be more
patient to win, escape, John Phillips said, "Why is it, I
mean she, I... er... mean, why is latexsissy quivering like
that," he paused slightly, then added, "Mistress
Chanazene?"
Chanazene barked a laugh, put her legs back under her desk,
leaned forward and turned stern. "First of all, she is Miss
latexsissy to you. She is your peer. You are on the same
level now. If anything Miss latexsissy is your superior,
for she knows how to please, and you don't. But in response
to your question, there are two causes. First, latexsissy
is wearing an extremely fat vibrating plug. It's enough to
make your teeth chatter." Chanazene smiled menacingly,
enjoying how the person once called John Phillips mouth
fell open so wide, she could see his molars. "It's heated
too, at about a hundred and three degrees. That's partly
why she sweats."
Dimly, John Phillips heard the caricature of the person
called latexsissy ask Miss Orange, "Ca I thuck hith
thingie?" The nails chattered their own language.
"The other reason is because latexsissy has got so much
hormones raging through her - we had to add there when we
ran out of other options - she should be having permanent
periodosis," Chanazene sighed a quiet, almost wistful laugh
this time. "I don't think that's a word, but it is now.
Yes, latexsissy is suffering from periodosis. That's why
she is so emotional."
"Not until you don't want to, latexsissy," said Miss
Orange.
"Boo hoo," mewled the sissy.
It took a moment to hit him. It crept on him slow. First a
grin that he tried to hide, and then a giggle, and then
John Phillips was hitching in laughter. He had never heard
anyone say boo hoo, like on cartoons and mean it so
sincerely, so forlornly and so sadly. Vaguely, he realized
he was going hysterical. Maybe shock. Somewhere in his
mind, he hoped for a catatonic state and then he mentally
slapped himself. That person in front of him was in, made
to be, in some sort of catatonic state.
"I apologize, Mistress Chanazene. I mean sissyuseless
apologizes," he said sincerely.
"You aw raffing at sissywathex!" latexsissy hissed.
"Sissywathex hate you!"
The venom in the voice made John Phillips look up,
astonished. Where did that come from? He met eyes with
latexsissy and drew back from the intensity of her gaze.
Her eyes were visibly shaking. Then a drop of something
milky fell from the fingernail on her left hand, to the
white tiled floor.
In spite of himself, he said, "I'm very sorry. I didn't
mean to hurt your feelings."
And like that it was gone. "Thath ok. Sissywathex buthy
now."
He watched as she nimbly knelt to the floor and lick the
drop, angling her face a bit, sticking out her tongue. Now
he could see why she talked so lispy. There was a ring
pierced at the tip of her tongue, and a stud to either side
of it. He looked on, in shocked entrancement, his mind on
hold. Barely holding on.
"I will explain, briefly, sissyuseless," Mistress Chanazene
broke into his hypnosis. "then this interview is concluded.
Miss latexsissy's wife became angered by him. He was an
investment banker, much like you were. Made a lot of money,
much like you did. But the wife needed revenge and decided
that her husband should become the best cocksucker ever
made. Well, our training program did that, but then his
wife determined that now that she was trained to want and
need only that, well, and to look pretty, it should be
teasingly denied. And since the wife is paying the bills,
we addressed that. Now latexsissy can't come, and isn't
even allowed to please, though I will tell you, she is
very, very good. Instead, she wears come inside of her
latex. She is surrounded by it, and it slowly drips out
from her fingertips. And as you can see, this delights
her."
John Phillips saw growing red spots on his eyes. I would
rather be a prisoner of El Quaida, he almost thought, but
it skated away. Involuntarily, he asked, "She wears come
all of the time?"
Chanazene put out her cigarette, studying him. I think this
one will be no problem, she thought. He should result well,
and a fine bonus I will have. "I will forgive your
insolence this time. I understand this transition is
difficult for you, useless one. But no, not all the time.
That would be unhealthy. Only in her cognitive state. In
the evening, latexsissy is sedated. Then she is undressed
and attended to, mostly by our newest sissies. Bathed,
brushed, scrubbed and well..." Chanazene paused and lit yet
another cigarette. The smell of them were driving John
Phillips crazy, and she knew it. "Aired out, shall we say.
Then after a few hours, we dress her again. She never
knows. By the way, the newbies, like you, attend to her.
She is, after all, our oldest client."
John Phillips said nothing. He couldn't say anything.
Latexsissy had finished licking and was standing again in
her ballet heels, baby step forward, baby step back.
"John," Chanazene said, quietly, so quietly. "Look at me."
The change of name awoke him. Slowly, so slowly, he did,
sliding his eyes past the boots of the quiet and mysterious
Ms Blue, to the desk, to Mistress Chanazene's eyes. He was
scared. More scared than he had ever been in his life. More
even than when he had gone skydiving and the parachute
hadn't opened up until he was only twelve hundred feet from
slamming into the earth. Then he had had desperate hope.
Now, well now, he had no parachute.
"Yes, Mistress Chanazene?"
"I want to tell you something, John. I want to reassure you
about a number of things," Chanazene put on her sympathetic
face and even coyly blinked her eyes. She saw John Phillips
fear change to hope, grasping. She loved this.
"First, if you do what you are told, obey well, and learn
your lessons, nothing bad will happen to you. Second, your
wife has not left you. She will be here in two weeks to
check on your progress. Right now, she is with Enrique on a
cruise to Spain, during these difficult moments, but in her
heart, I am sure she is here with you. And, John, when I
said five years, I never said that you wouldn't be released
earlier with good behavior."
John Phillips sat spellbound. Options. Hope. Opportunity.
Maria. The thoughts raced through his mind. He was an
optimist by nature, and now, the sky was clearing. The
title of a book crossed his mind. The sun also rises. Was
it Steinbeck, or Hemmingway. He couldn't remember. He
didn't care.
Chanazene smiled inwardly, keeping her sympathetic face on.
"John, I promise you, that you have the opportunity to
leave here just like you came in. I promise you that. It
may take some getting used to, but you are a smart man. I
am sure you can do it. Don't you think?"
"Yes! Mistress Chanazene," John Phillips exclaimed, a
rising can do feeling flowing into him. I will do this. I
will and I will get out of here and fuck my Maria raw and
red, and then. Well, then, I'm going to dump her like a bag
of moldy rocks. "Thank you, Mistress Chanazene."
"You are more than welcome. By the way, here in school, you
are forbidden - they will teach you this soon enough -
never refer to yourself in the first person. You are not I.
You are sissyuseless. Okay?" Chanazene smiled warmly.
"Yes, Mistress Chanazene," John Phillips said emphatically.
"Sissyusless thanks you, Mistress Chanazene."
"Good gurl! Now go along nicely with Ms Orange and she will
get you all set up."
Ms Orange clacked over to help John Phillips stand up, and
led him towards the monstrous safe like door that led
into... what. There, he assumed. School. Release. As he
walked over, past a quiet, shuddering latexsissy, she
whispered to him.
"Ca I thuck ya cock?"
"No, latexsissy. You may not," said Ms Orange.
John Phillips said over his shoulder, "Sissyuseless thanks
you, Mistress Chanazene. Sissyuseless will be good.
Sissyuseless will be good."
I can play the game, I can be the winner and all shall pay,
he thought, smiling subservience.
"Come along, latexsissy," said Ms Orange. "Time to go
home."
"Boo hoo."
John Phillips almost cracked up again, but now he was
cautious. I will bide my time. I have many options.
Ms Orange turned the tumbler left, right, left, and pulled
open the vault. She led John Phillips and latexsissy
through, clicking her high heels on the tile.
Chanazene was moist. She had loved the look on John
Phillips eyes. A little shiftiness, a bit of calculation.
Fear, replaced by hope. She would crush that now. She loved
to give, but take away more than she gave. She mashed her
cigarette down.
"Ms Blue, my back aches, and I would love to love you,
dear."
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