Autobiography Of A Shemale free porn video

Autobiography of a Shemale Dominatrix By Barbi Satin Introduction Among many in the transgender world the term shemale is offensive. Transsexual in considered a proper, politically correct term. Transsexuals are persons born into the wrong gender and have the psychology and even brain structures of the opposite gender. They go through years of counseling, hormone therapy and in the end surgeries to correct a mistake of birth. Most male to female transsexuals live to pass, to fit into society as normal women. They are attracted to men and look for men who have no interest in their penis if they are pre operative. I have heard many transsexuals talk about how happy they were after hormones and anti androgens stopped all erections. As a shemale I can think of no worse nightmare than that chemical castration. To many if not most all transsexuals the term shemale is nothing but a term invented by the porn industry to sell a lie. The lie of a gorgeous female with breasts and an erection who loves her cock and perverse sex in leather and latex. It started all the way back in the late 1970's with the release of the Shemale Encounters 8mm loops. There was Carnal Candy, The legendary Sulka and Tantalizing Toni. The shemale portrayed as a creature of hyper sexuality and fetish, perverse fetish divas with throbbing hard cocks adorned in leather and latex holding whips. Many if not most transsexuals found this image offensive As the transsexual porn industry grew in the 80's and then into the age of the Internet the image changed dramatically. In this day and age you can find several hundred sites on the web that portray pre operative TS as Shemales. Mostly nudes or TS with males are the theme. You will almost never see a TS with another TS or a female. In the age of political correctness the portrayal even in the porn industry of the TS is politically correct. Fetish is a dirty word to many if not most TS. The entire medical process behind the transformation is designed to exclude those girls who would undergo a transformation for reasons of fetish and perverse sexual desires. Most plastic surgeons won't touch a person who desires to undergo strictly cosmetic procedures to attain female beauty for strictly fetish reasons. As I can attest however there are a few very good plastic surgeons that are more open-minded and will perform breast implant surgery and other cosmetic procedures on a fetishist. There are very few shemales alive in the world today. Most of my kind who dress for erotic fantasy reasons remain at the transvestite level and find that most transsexuals revile them. My definition of a true shemale is simply an extreme fetishist who undergoes many of the same cosmetic surgical procedures a transsexual would but for completely different reasons. To become the ultimate creature of fetish, perversion and hyper sexuality. A shemale loves the twisted concept of a leather-clad bitch with big boobs and an erection. I am one such shemale. Never in my entire life have I felt that I was a woman trapped in a male body, as do most all transsexuals. Most psychologists will tell you that the etiology of a fetish can be traced back to an event in early childhood. Fetish is also a cultural phenomena limited mostly to those of northern European and northern Asian ancestry. Fetish is also mostly exclusively found in the male of the species with a few rare exceptions. Transsexuals have brains wired exactly like the female of the species. Male sexual arousal is triggered by the visual. Female sexual arousal is tied to the procreation of the species and her emotions. The sight of beautiful woman painted like a whore in leather or latex arouses a male with a "shiny" fetish. A big breasted female in skintight leather, latex, satin or PVC. A male with a fetish for leather is aroused by the sight, smell and touch of leather. Perhaps as a child his mother would wear a pair of leather gloves that she would touch his face with. It may have been a pair of boots that she wore while administering a spanking that was the trigger event. Perhaps a hug when she wore a satin gown while he was naked was the trigger event. A spanking while she wore a rubber kitchen apron can lead to a lifetime of rubber fetishism. My theory as to why fetish is mostly limited to those born into the northern races goes back to simple survival. Our ancestors in the northern climate depended on leather and fur for simple survival against the brutal winters. It is my belief that the fetish instinct is hardwired into the collective subconscious of the male of northern Caucasian and Asian ancestry. It merely requires a trigger event in childhood to become activated. Nothing is ever that simple however and there are many other variables in the fetish equation. Hormone levels and sex drive must be taken into account. Fetish is also tied to I.Q and is usually limited to those with above average intelligence and higher than normal sex drive. Fetish sex is not about procreation and is therefore offensive to a society that is to this day puritanical in nature. Religion is a structure of social control designed to ensure the procreation of the species. Sex is defined as an act that must only take place for the purpose of procreation between a man and women who have entered into the social contract of marriage. The fetishist by nature is a hedonist for whom sex is strictly about pleasure and fantasy. In a society that is structured around strict guidelines as defined by Judeo/ Christian norms of sexuality the fetishist will of course have issues of guilt and shame to deal with. It is only natural then the fetishism will have ties to sado masochism. Guilt, shame and humiliation can become triggers to the fetishist that lead to even greater sexual arousal. If we are to make the claim that western society is indeed free than it must also be sexually free. Many males with the fetish instinct lead lives of guilt and desperation. They spend their entire lives in denial of their own sexuality and attempt to fit into the norm. Many transvestites with a fetish for satin or leather garments will go though periods where they are driven by the most powerful sexual need to dress in the object of their adoration only to purge after sexual release is attained. It is a life of guilt and denial that runs in cycles. Until recently the psychiatric community classified all fetishes as paraphilia's and fetish was considered to be a mental disorder. If you take into consideration that those with the fetish instinct have far higher I.Q's than the general population, a case could also be made using the same logic that particle physicists engage in abnormal behavior. The general population does not spend hours fixated on discovering particles smaller than quarks. By the logic of the psychiatric community the physicist must them be considered mentally ill? Psychiatrists used the term paraphila as an umbrella term for all fetish behavior. A person with a true sexual disorder such as necrophilia would be lumped in with a person who loved kid leather gloves. One is a vile perversion and the other a beautiful way to enhance the sex act. Psychiatry became a modern substitute for religion to enforce sexual norms in the 20th century. I would therefore promulgate the theory that harmless forms of fetishism are not normal sexual acts but superior sexual acts engaged in by superior minds. Some fetishists come to understand that fetish and fantasy are indeed harmless. It is not the fetishist who has it wrong. It is the primitive social structure based on superstition and prejudice that is wrong. No one can become a shemale until they reach the point where all of societies mandates of sexual normality are rejected and the bizarre is embraced as a way of life. To reach the point where a fetishist will undergo surgeries to become a fetish object also requires an exceptionally powerful trigger or series of trigger events in childhood and an abnormally high sex drive that can only be described as male nymphomania. I am such a person and this is my true story. The beginning Everyone has a very first memory in life. My very first memory was of a bedtime game my mother would play with me. For a very long time I thought it was an innocent game and that she had no sexual intentions. I was deluding myself then. Now when I look back I see that there were intentions on her part to make me into a very feminine transvestite satin fetishist. She confirmed it herself when I was in my teens. She never had much use for the male of the species and often told me she wished I had been born a girl. Girls were easier to raise, better behaved and in all ways better than boy's and their troublesome ways. Girl's were smarter, girls never caused trouble and boy's were dirty and loud and always in trouble. She would tell me how much she wished I had been born a pretty girl to spare her the endless misery I caused her. A few times she told me she was going to send me away for adoption and trade me for a girl. I could never do anything right in her eyes and she was always cold towards me except at bedtime. Her nightly bedtime ritual was called satin tickles. At bedtime she would come into my room to get me ready for bed. I remember that as a small child my bed had regular cotton sheets but there was a pink satin comforter on it. I would lie naked on that comforter and mother would take handfuls of pink satin ribbons and use then to tickle my face, chest, tummy and legs. She would always wear satin herself when she played her game. She would come into my room in beautiful satin lingerie and often long satin gloves. My mother was also a smoker and would often have a cigarette, as she would play her tickle game. I remember how she would let me run the ribbons through my fingers and she would tell me how pretty and shiny they were and how nice the satin felt, how dainty and girly and pretty the satin was. Like all kids before the age of five I was a total innocent. When I look back on it now I remember that I did have an erection during the tickle games. She never directly tickled my penis with the ribbons but at times as she would work down from my tummy to my legs the ribbons would tickle my little erection and balls. I would guess that in total she would play her tickle game for about half an hour many nights at bedtime. she would run the long streamers of pink ribbons up and down my entire body as I would giggle and let out little moans. When the tips of the ribbons would touch my little penis and balls I would let out little gasps. Some nights she would tell me she was going to give me a massage to help me relax and fall asleep. I don't remember that happening more than a few times but will never forget those few massages. She would wear a pair of long white satin gloves of the type not made since the 50's. Made with real acetate bridal satin. She would light up one of her Virginia Slims and lean in close to my face cupping her chin with the gloved hand holding the cigarette and smile, as she would stroke my face with the other. She would tell me I had such a pretty face and beautiful eyes, such long girlish lashes and what a darling girl I would have made. She would start running her satin-gloved hands gently over my chest and sides and I would let out little moans of pure pleasure. As her gloves would caress my sides it would tickle something terrible and I would wriggle and gasp. She would ask me if I wanted her to stop but I would beg her to tickle me more. "So girly and so sweet, girls love pretty satins sweetie, satin is for dainty girly girls baby doll". She would then take my little nipples and begin to flick her satiny fingers over them as I would arch my back and make little cries of mommy, mommy. My nipples have always been connected right to my penis and I would come very close to a little orgasm from what she was doing. She would take me in her arms, kiss me good night and then tuck me into bed. She always took the ribbons away with her but I did sleep with a little pink stuffed rabbit she called tickle bunny. Tickle Bunny had satin ribbons on her neck tied in bows. I would fall asleep each night running them through my fingers. By the time I was only four years old I found that if I would lie face down on my satin comforter and rub it felt nice. My penis would become erect and if I rubbed long enough I would have a funny feeling in it. A feeling I would not learn until years later was an orgasm. Of course there was no discharge of semen at that age. Just the sensation of orgasm. Since there was no discharge of semen there was also no need for time between orgasms for my body to recharge. I was capable of multiple orgasms and some days would rub myself until I experienced that funny feeling twenty or more times. I seemed to know from some instinct that my rubbing my penis on satin was not a normal thing to do and I kept it hidden from my parents. By the time I was just five years old I was a sex addict and knew that it was very abnormal. I also started kindergarten at the age of five and discovered that I could form friendships with the girls much easier than the boys at school. The satin tickle games were not something that would happen every night at bedtime. At the time I didn't realize it but she would only come to my room and play her games when my father was not at home. He would often be away however. It wasn't until years later that I found it he would often be away weeks at a time not because of work but because he was having affairs with women. If he had been home he would have heard my squeals and laughter, as she would use the ribbons on my most ticklish spots. My reaction to the gentle tickling was a state of profound sexual ecstasy that she could not have failed to notice. When she would smoke a cigarette during the tickle games she smoked in a style I could only call erotic and extremely seductive. To this day I have a profound fetish for all white, slim cigarettes held in a gloved hand. I also now realize that if my father had been home at those times he would not have allowed her near me the way should would dress for the tickle games. Women usually don't go to their young sons bedrooms at night in full glamour make up. The outfit I remember best was a white satin bustier that could barley hold her breasts in, white satin French knickers with long seamed silk stockings in white, marabou high heeled slippers, a chiffon robe, shoulder length satin gloves and ribbons in her hair. One other odd variation in child rearing she subjected me to at the time-involved urination in the morning. Instead of just letting me go to the bathroom and use the toilet she would sit on my bed and seal a jar around my penis and balls and tell me to pee. She would always comment on the amount and color. By the time I was six I had started first grade. It was about that time that my moms tickle games stopped. I found that in school I was often lost in my own imagination. I also developed a terrible and chronic bronchitis at that time and missed over half the school year because of illness. It was decided that I would repeat the first grade because I had missed so much time. Over the summer vacation my father made arrangements for me to attend a day camp in Milford Connecticut that was owned by a friend of his. His friend was the superintendent of schools in New Haven and had a large parcel of land right on the beach in Milford. A lot of the kids at the camp were rich snobs but I made a few friends and was having fun. The activities at the camp were twice daily trips to the beach for swimming lessons, wiffle ball. Shooting baskets and arts and crafts. It was the 2nd week of August after a swim when I felt my head throbbing. I told one of the camp counselors that I had a terrible headache and he dismissed it. It was one of those moments that has always stuck in mind. He said that kids didn't get headaches. By the time I made it home that day I felt as if a steel spike was being driven into my skull. I went to the family doctor the next day and he said there was a virus going around. He gave my mom a prescription for Darvon and that helped a great deal with the pain but did nothing for the cause of the pain. A day later my left eye was swollen shut. A few days later I was at the office of an eye specialist. He couldn't even get the eye open and took a few X rays. As soon as he saw the X rays he told my dad to get me to an ear, nose and throat surgeon and to get me there at once. I was very lucky that my father worked at Saint Raphael's hospital and had connections. He got me in to see the best surgeon in New Haven one hour later. I had a few more X rays and the surgeon told my parents that I had a serious sinus infection. A case that would be written up in the New England Journal of Medicine. It was just an hour later that I was being prepped for surgery. The doctor told my parents afterwards that if they had not operated then I would have been dead within two hours. I was in the pediatric ward of Saint Raphael's for a week after the surgery. Most kids would have just spent a week like that watching television and talking to the other kids on the ward. I spent my week in the hospital having sexual fantasies and hiding my erection. There was this one blonde nurse who drove me crazy! The cause of the sinus infection was the water in Long Island Sound. It would be years before I could swim underwater again. I missed the first month of school after that but I did well enough once I returned. It was pretty much all things I had learned from the year before. My life at that point was pretty much normal. I was still rubbing myself to orgasm at times but not as often. My dad was home all the time and introducing me to his hobby of photography. I returned to camp the next summer and had a great time despite not being allowed near the water. I did notice that I was more mature than the other kids my age and had little interest in the things they liked. I started 2nd grade in the fall and soon found myself lost in my fantasy world again and not paying attention to the lessons. I was sent to the district psychologist to be tested to see if I was what they would consider slow or even retarded. The tests showed that I was actually at an 8th grade level in most subjects and I later found out they showed that I had an I.Q. above 150. They had no idea what to do with me and I found myself back in class just squeaking by. My teachers didn't have a clue about how to deal with a kid who kept asking questions about the nature of the universe and would then drift into daydreams. After school I would always play with a few girls who lived on my block and had little interest in forming relationships with other males. Life other than that was almost normal at home. My father was very active in the local camera club and pictorial photography. He also had a way of talking the cute nurses into coming to out to our house to model for photos. He was a well-known portrait and glamour photographer in New England and even became a master member of The New England Camera Club Counsel. He would shoot the photos in the living room on the first floor of our house. I should have made a connection when I saw him draping a few of the women he photographed with satin. I would sneak out of my room and watch these pretty nurses draped in satin while he shot photos of them smoking. He called them glamour photos. There was one shoot I watched him do that to this very day fires my sexual imagination. She was a girl with perfect little features and medium length blond hair with bangs, She was wearing a white satin gown and long white kid leather gloves and smoking for glamour photos. I still have fantasies about her, My father once again went away for an extended period when I entered the third grade. By that time I had a hidden stash of satin in my room I used for masturbation. Satin I had stolen from my moms sewing chest in our attic in the hope that it wouldn't be missed. I had also discovered that she had used the closet in my bedroom to store a pink satin bridesmaid gown and found a few pairs of satin panties buried deep in my dresser drawer. I assumed at the time that she had just put them there because her closets were full. I would wrap myself in satin at night and masturbate to dry orgasm after dry orgasm. One night I screwed up my courage and put the satin bridesmaids gown on. I will never forget the feeling of the satin slipping and sliding over my body that night. I was in absolute heaven and the skirt was tented out with my full erection. While my dad was gone my mom really went into an anti male mode. I couldn't do anything right and often found myself being punished with housework. She would put me in a frilly plastic apron and order me around the house to clean and do dishes. My mom was a very beautiful woman and I noticed it. While dad was away that time she seemed to make a habit of wearing a black satin blouse and knee length leather skirt with high-heeled pumps. She would often put on a pair of short leather gloves and as I would be wearing the cleaning apron she would have me light her cigarettes and kneel in front of her holding an ashtray. The sight of her dressed like that holding a cigarette in her leather glove always gave me an erection. She never would smoke then unless she had put on those gloves. She would sit there dressed in a way that would make my cock throb and berate me for the poor job I was doing with the cleaning. When she was really angry she would make me drop my pants and take me over her knee. As soon as I would feel her leather skirt my cock would spring to full erection. She would than whip my ass raw with a leather belt, as she told me men were all worthless. "A girl would know how to help her mother and not need to watched all the time". After every vicious strike with the belt she would say something about girls being better than boys. Of course I would cry and beg her to stop when she would whip me with the belt. Once I was really screaming she would quiet me by sealing her kid gloved hand over my nose and mouth. The smell of her smoky leather glove made me insane! I would run to my room after her punishments and masturbate as soon as I would have a chance. I would describe the way she dressed in that period as low fetish. Satin blouses and leather skirts were fashionable at the time as were short leather gloves. A visitor to our house at time would have just considered it an outfit a fashion conscious woman would wear to go shopping at a department store. It was also a manner of dress that caused me to have nearly constant erection and to associate female cruelty and leather with sexual arousal. I found myself misbehaving intentionally at times to bring about punishment despite that fact that I feared that terrible belt. This became a pattern for several weeks until my father once again returned home and things fell back into what I considered normal. My father was not to stray again for several years. In the 4th grade I became involved in the schools instrumental music program and found something I truly loved. I started out playing trumpet and soon switched to the French Horn. The French Horn is the most difficult of the instruments in the brass family. I loved the challenge and discovered I had real talent for it. I discovered the world of Bach, Mozart, Beethoven and the other great composers. By the time I was entering the 6th grade and middle school my teachers were convinced that I would one day be a hornist in a symphony orchestra. I also picked up Flute as a second instrument and was soon the best flautist in the school as well. I was also the only male to play Flute. When I was around the age of eleven I discovered another piece of the puzzle but at the time did not make the association with my mothers behavior towards me. I developed an infected sebaceous cyst on my neck. Our local family practitioner removed it in his office and then committed an act of malpractice. Instead of leaving the wound open to drain he sutured it shut and told me I would be fine to attend school the next morning. By 11:00 PM that night I was in agony and my skin was red and hot from my neck to my groin. I was soon at the emergency room of Saint Raphael's Hospital. As one doctor removed the sutures and let it all drain I overheard my father giving a detailed family medical history to another. He was telling the doctor taking the history that my mother had two miscarriages before my birth and had lost two female children. She had been told that when she was pregnant with me I would be her last chance to carry to full term and any more attempts would be very dangerous. After my birth she was told to not attempt to have another child. The next stage I was about twelve years old when it happened. I was rubbing a piece of satin on my erection and my cock began a near volcanic eruption of sperm. The piece of satin I had used to masturbate with that day was destroyed. My first wet orgasm in life was massive to say the least. Despite the fact that I was so sexually precocious I was still an innocent in many ways. I thought at first that the sticky white liquid that came out of my penis might have meant I had some disease. It was weeks before I would masturbate again. Once I did resume masturbation I quickly learned to pull the satin back at the last moment and catch the liquid in paper towel. I was also becoming more creative in my masturbation. I discovered that if I wore a latex exam glove the dull side of the satin would sort of stick to it and make the shiny side slip and slide over my cock in a way that felt incredible. Usually once the male body begins to produce semen sexual activity should become more limited. In my case I was still able to have as many as twenty-five orgasms per day. I would not even lose my erection after orgasm and could have as many as five before I would need to rest and recharge for an hour. After ten or so orgasms I would only produce a drop or two of semen but was able to remain erect and bring myself to orgasm after orgasm. I was not to learn until many years later how abnormal this was. My perversions began to drive me to explore then. I began to sneak into my parent's bedroom and into her dresser drawer. I was careful to only take things I didn't think she would miss. My first treasured items were a few pairs of fully-fashioned nylons. Late at night when I was certain they were asleep I would slip into the stockings and put on that satin bridesmaids gown. The way the satin felt as it would slip and slide over my stocking legs drove me wild. It tickled and the stockings seemed to enhance the feel of the satin skirt. I was also very aware by that point that what I was doing was extremely abnormal and shameful. At times I found myself slipping into a deep depression over my hidden sexual activities. I would attempt to refrain from masturbation and be normal at those times. My fetish drive was far too strong to restrain and after a day or week of abstinence I would find myself driven to explore my sexuality in deeper and more perverse ways. It wasn't long until I had one of my mothers' satin slips hidden in my stash under my bed and a pack of Virginia Slims. I also started a collection of magazine ads for Virginia Slim Cigarettes and would look at the photos of the models smoking during masturbation. It wasn't long after that when I discovered that my parents had an unconventional sex life. I discovered a collection of magazines under their bed one afternoon while she was away shopping and he was at work. The magazines had names like Bitches with Whips, Forced Transvestites, Enemates, Rubber Life and a few other titles. There were also some older magazines from the 50's in the stash. I discovered the world of Betty Page and Tana Louise. Women in exotic leather, satin and latex wear. Those magazines drove to even more experimentation and wild masturbatory fantasies. Those magazines also did something far more important for me. They freed me from years of self-loathing and shame. Like all young fetishists I felt that I was alone in the world. That no one else alive had the same "sick" sexual interests that I did. I was the only boy in the entire universe that had a desire to dress in pink satin party dress and be a girl. Finding that "terrible, sinful awful, vile pornography" saved my sanity and maybe even my life. If I had found them at the age of six they would have saved me from years of misery and being a social outcast among my peers. I also discovered a red rubber enema bag under the tub in their bathroom and a single tail whip hidden in a drawer. I did of course give my self an enema with the bag I had found and later fucked a vacuum cleaner. I found a pair of shiny black latex old style kitchen gloves and was soon using those to masturbate with and also latex exam gloves. There was a pair of short, kid leather gloves in mothers' dresser and I began using those as well. I discovered that if you cut a hole in a watermelon it can be fucked but just feels sticky and was not a turn on at all. Vaseline and plastic can be fun however. There was walk-in closet in their bedroom that was always locked. It was a simple hasp with a padlock and could be easily unscrewed for access. I had always been told to never go into that closet! One day while my dad was at work and my mom was on a shopping trip to New Haven I took a screwdriver and opened the forbidden closet. For a young transvestite it was like walking into wonderland. There were satin gowns and a maid's uniform, corsets, thigh high leather boots, leather skirts and long gloves in satin and leather. There was a drawer full of various restraints and whips. There was also a huge stash of other fetish magazines. I spent most of that afternoon exploring what my parents had hidden away. There was even a leather dress in my mom's size along with several pairs of incredible boots and shoes. There wasn't much in the way of latex wear but there was one latex nurses uniform. I just ran my hands over the satins, leathers and that latex uniform. The smell of the leather alone was driving me insane. On one shelf there was a collection of long wigs and I found some cosmetics. I knew then that my father was exactly like me and that he played bizarre sex games with my mother. I never did find out for sure but my theory is that his Irish Catholic guilt over his own perversion was what would drive him away from home into the arms of other women. Women with whom he could pursue normal relations and in essence purge his transvestite desires. Despite the fact that I now knew about my fathers' perversions the thought of him ever finding out about mine was far too shameful for me to comprehend. That first day in their closet I tried on a few satin gowns and the satin gloves and masturbated being very careful to not stain anything with cum. I didn't stay long out of fear I would be caught and soon had the hasp back in place. As time went on I would wait for my mother to leave on her shopping trips and bolt for the closet with a screwdriver. It wasn't long before my desires drove me to try the satin corsets and gowns on. I even began playing with make up and the wigs. I would bring paper towels with me to catch my semen. I started rubbing my cock with her leather dress and played with her kid leather gloves as well. As time went by I became sloppy and bolder. I had left a few pre cum stains on the gowns and it was becoming obvious from the worn paint in the screws exactly what was going on. I just told myself that I was getting away with it and went into denial that my mother knew. My fetish desires were growing out of control fed by the images in those magazines. I would masturbate for hours imagining the beautiful leather clad dominants in those magazines were smoking for me, and they were the ones masturbating me and punishing me for my transvestite perversions. It was an early weekday afternoon and I was off from school that day. My mother told me was going to take the bus up to Macy's and the Mall to shop. My dad was at work so I waited until I was sure she was gone and went back to the closet for an afternoon of dressing up and masturbation. I made up my face and put on a blonde wig and then slipped on stockings and a garter belt. Then came a pink satin ball gown and long satin gloves followed by a pair of high heel pumps. I was standing in front of their bedroom mirror holding one of her leather gloves under my nose breathing in the aroma of the leather and her cigarettes as I jerked off my cock through the satin skirt of the gown with a satin glove. I was just about to pull up the skirt and catch my cum in a paper towel when it happened. I heard my mothers' voice. "What the goddamned hell are you doing." She screamed. To make it worse I was at that very moment over the edge of no return and instead of using the paper towel I swung around and found myself facing my enraged mother just as my cock soaked the front of the satin gown in cum. It was every young transvestites worst nightmare come true. I was just thirteen years old at the time. A life forever changed My life was never to be the same after that terrible moment. She demanded an explanation but I was too horrified and humiliated to speak. I found myself being dragged by my ear back to my bedroom in a cum soaked satin gown. I was still in the heels and fell several times as she pulled me along. I could do nothing but watch in total shame as she tore apart my bedroom and discovered all the satins and lingerie that were hidden under my bed along with the cigarettes and a few fetish magazines I had taken. As she gathered up my secret stash she told me she was too disgusted to deal with me. That I would remain exactly as I was until my father came home. Despite that fact that I knew about my father and his perversions I was in sheer terror at the thought of him seeing me that way. I wished at that moment that I could just die. I dropped to my knees and began to beg her to please not let my father know. I would do anything she wanted and began to promise to never do it again. I was a sobbing, broken wretch. I even began to kiss her feet as I begged and pleaded with her to please not tell my father. She told me to look her in the eye and then began to slap my face in a cold fury as she told me I was nothing but a disgusting pervert and that she was ashamed I was her son. She called me a sick, pathetic sissy and spit on me. All I could do was to continue to cry as I begged her to please not tell father. She told me that I had better not even dare to try and change or clean myself up. She said she would have to think about it and that I was to sit on my bed and not move. I just sat there in that cum soaked gown for about an hour. I couldn't even cry anymore. I would guess it was about an hour later when I heard her scream at me to get my pathetic ass into her bedroom. Nothing in my life could have prepared me for the sight that met my eyes then. She had put satin sheets on her bed and was sitting on them waiting for me. She had done her make up exactly as the women in the fetish magazines wore theirs. Extreme false lashes, heavy eyeliner and blood red lipstick. She was wearing her leather dress with a pair of long leather gloves and a pair of the thigh high leather boots with extreme heels and she was holding a leather strap. She told me to drop to my knees and crawl to her. There was nothing else I could do. I crawled to her. She took my chin in her gloved hand and told me I had a choice. I could accept any and all punishment from her or she would send me back to my room to wait for my father to come home. I was not rational at the moment and made the only choice I could. I told her I would accept her punishments. She told me to raise my skirt and then pulled me over her lap. She then went to work with that horrible leather strap. It felt like she was stripping the skin off my ass as she beat me in an ice-cold fury. I cried and screamed and begged for mercy as she just hit me harder and harder. As she continued the beating she asked me if wearing satin made my dick hard. I hesitated and she bit into my ass with the strap again and again. After about the sixth stroke with the strap I confessed that wearing satin made my cock hard. "Does seeing mommy dressed like this make your cock hard sissy?" She just kept using the strap as she forced me to confess that she did make me hard. She asked what my other perversions were and asked me if seeing her smoke made me horny. I could do nothing but confess my secret sins to her as she whipped my ass raw. She finally pushed me off her lap and told me to lick her boots as she lit up a cigarette. After licking her boots for a while she took my chin in her hand and told me to get up on my knees. I was ashamed even more then because my erection was back and tenting out my satin skirt. She told me to open my mouth and began using it as an ashtray. When she was done with her cigarette she spit on my tongue and ground it out right on my tongue and made me chew it. She held her leather glove over my nose and mouth until I had swallowed it. As terrified and ashamed as I was I had never been more sexually aroused in my life. My cock was so hard it was rising up and down all on it's own making the satin skirt of the gown rise and fall obscenely. What was happening was worse than any nightmare I had ever had but it was also a wet dream come true. Shame and humiliation are powerful aphrodisiacs to a fetishist and this was the ultimate humiliation. The next thing she did was to tell me to lie on the bed and show her how I jerked off my pathetic sissy prick. When I hesitated she slapped me hard across the face and told me she didn't have all day. I did as she commanded then. She just laughed at me as I made the satin skirt slip and slide over my cock as I flicked the fingers of my other hand over my nipples. I was just about to cum when she told me to stop. She lit another of her Virginia Slims and pulled back my skirt. She just sat there and smoked as she took my erection in her leather-gloved hand and began to masturbate me. She rubbed my cock with her leather glove and teased it with the satin of the skirt as she once again used my mouth as an ashtray. As she finished her cigarette she put it out by spitting on it and shoved it into my mouth and told me to chew and swallow. She once again held her leather-gloved hand over my mouth as she stroked my cock faster and faster with the other. I exploded in orgasm as she laughed at what a pathetic sissy I was. As I lay there after my orgasm she told me I was to never masturbate again. That she would decide when I was to be allowed an orgasm. She sent me to clean up as she put the room back in order and changed into her normal clothing. That night when my father came home she kept her word. It was almost as if it had never happened. The fire shooting through my ass from that strap reminded for days that it had been real. She had beaten me so badly my ass looked like raw, bloody hamburger. She did come into my room later that night before bed just as she had done years before in her satin lingerie. She had the old satin ribbons and played a lewd variation of the old game as she only used them on my erection. She told me before leaving me a horny mess that from that day forward I was to sleep with my door open and must never lock the bathroom door again. She would be checking to make sure I never masturbated and if she caught me she had far worse implements than her strap. I cried myself to sleep that night. She made me take the satin gown I had stained with my cum to the dry cleaners. When the woman behind the counter asked me what the stains were from I just shrugged and told her I was dropping it off for my mom and didn't know what had caused the stains. My face was beat red as I told my lies and she just smirked and laughed at me after looking at the stain. She kept her word about checking up on me as well. She would often burst into the bathroom, as I would be sitting on the toilet. If my dad was around she wouldn't stay long but if he was out she would stand over me as I would shit and then wipe my ass like I was a little kid. There were times when she would come into my bedroom in the middle of the night to try and catch me masturbating. She would bring along a short leather glove at those times and masturbate me to the point of almost cumming and then stop. I was what I could only describe as a horny miserable wretch at that point. I missed my satins and other fetish items terribly. I was desperate for sexual relief but didn't dare defy her. Over a month went by before my father had to work another weekend. My dad would usually leave for work at 6:00 AM That morning I woke up to see her standing over me wearing a black satin gown and those long black leather gloves. Seeing her dressed that way made my tortured cock hard in seconds. Her gown was a shimmering black satin evening gown cut to reveal a lot of cleavage. The long leather opera gloves made her look like a fetish Goddess. She even had on a long blonde wig and had done her make up even more exotically than the first time. She told me to get in the shower and she handed me a razor telling me to shave off the peach fuzz around my privates. Once I had showered and dried off she pulled me into a hug and began playing with my nipples with her gloved hands. The feel of that satin gown against my cock and her gloved hands on my nipples had me moaning and panting in seconds. She told me that since I was nothing but a sissy she was going to indulge me that day. That entire day is burned into my memory. We went into her bedroom and she took a seat again on the satin sheets. She showed me the little pink satin maids uniform, a pair of pink satin bloomers, a pink satin corset, white stockings and a pair of white high-heeled shoes. She just kept running her gloved hands over the pink satin maids uniform talking about how slippery and shiny it was. She lit up a cigarette again. This was the first time I had seen her smoke a Virginia Slims 120. As she smoked that long super sexy cigarette she told me to beg her to be allowed to wear a sissy dress. I found myself saying "Please mommy, please make me a satin sissy." Once again she used my mouth as an ashtray I swallowed the butt when she was finished. She put me into the pink corset then and laced it tightly. Next came the silky stockings. Before she slid the bloomers up my legs she tied a pink satin ribbon tightly around my cock and balls. She took off her leather gloves and had me sit in a chair as she went to work on my face. She applied foundation and powder and then went to work on my eyes. She used a pink eye shadow, eyeliner and then long false eye lashes. Then came blush and lip liner followed by bright pink lipstick. She put a pair of clip on earrings on my ear lobes and then a long Barbie doll like blonde wig on my head. And then put a pink satin ribbon in my hair. As soon as the wig was on my head I heard her gasp and say "Oh, my GOD". I was in heaven as she slipped me into the little satin maids uniform and tied me into the little apron. She took me over to the mirror and I knew why she had said "Oh. My GOD." My own attempts at make up had been pathetic but she knew exactly what she was doing. The girl in the mirror was drop dead gorgeous. I was so pretty that I could have won beauty pageants if I had been a real girl. For a finishing touch she slipped a pair of long pink satin opera gloves up my arms and tied dainty little ribbons on my wrists. She had me walk and told me to take dainty little steps and to wiggle my ass. With every step I took the satin skirt would twirl and slip and slide over the satin bloomers making my cock twitch in pleasure. The more I would wiggle the more fantastic it felt. The sound of satin slipping and sliding on satin was driving me insane. She named me Barbie Satin that day and to this day I am still Barbie Satin. There was no way she could have been prepared or even imagine that I would have looked like that once I was fully made up. She took me in her arms and began to rub her satin-sheathed body over mine. She was moaning as loud as I was. "Does mommies precious sissy doll want to cum." I began to beg her to let me cum. She told me to lie on my back on the satin sheets. The sensation of the little satin maids uniform slipping on satin sheets had me in a state of pure ecstasy. She put her leather gloves back on and lifted my little skirt. She pulled down the bloomers and began to stroke my sissy cock. I was moaning in pleasure form the touch of her leather gloves and seeing her smoke her 120mm cigarette. The next thing she did will never be forgotten. She lay between my legs on her tummy and began to blow smoke at the tip of my cock as she continued her gentle stroking. As she continued to stroke just the shaft with her buttery soft leather glove she took the head of my cock into her mouth as she exhaled smoke. All I could do was let out little cries of mommy, oh mommy as she suckled me to a mind shattering orgasm. I spent the rest of that day lighting her cigarettes and licking her feet. Her attitude seemed to change and I was suddenly her precious satin princess. Her beautiful little doll. I was called honey and baby and sweet heart. She would kiss me and tell me how dainty and sweet I was and I adored her for it. I would stand in front of her my pink satin dress and do what she called a sissy dance. It consisted of lewdly holding my gloved hands on my hips, as I would swing my hips to music to make the tip of my erection slip and slide on the satin skirts. After that day she would transform me into her satin doll at every opportunity. She introduced me to many new perversions in satin and leather fetish. She was very good at sewing and soon had many cute little pink satin party dresses, satin bloomers in double-faced satin and other little fetish outfits made for me. She would at times tie me on satin sheets with satin ribbons and then cover my body in satin before she would tickle torture me with satin gloves until I would scream and beg for her to stop. She would then use the satin and stroke me to orgasm. She would still dress in her leather boots, gloves and dress while I was dressed in a little pink satin party dress. Mommy taught me to kneel in front of her and lick her vagina, as she would smoke. She never called it anything other than a vagina. She called her ass her anus and soon I was also taught to worship her anus with my mouth. I adored licking her pussy but when I would worship her "Divine anus" I would be lost in a state of total submission and love for her. I became her gorgeous, young, lesbian sissy fetish lover. At times she would sit me in front of a mirror and play with my nipples and she told me to look at how pretty I was. How gorgeous and dainty and sweet. Mommies pink satin princess. She would then stroke my cock through the satin skirt until I would cum as she told me over and over again how beautiful I was to her. That I was her sweet little satin girl she loved so very much. Satin ribbons and bows were always used in her dress up doll games. Ribbons in my hair, on my wrists and on my garters and ankles. There were "dainty little ribbons and bows for my sissy wee wee" as well. When she wanted a cigarette I would curtsey and bring one to her on a heart shaped satin pillow before kneeling to serve as her ashtray. She taught me to walk like an exaggerated girl with limp wrists and a wiggle, to pout pretty and bat my eyelashes. She taught me to pose for her as her doll holding cigarettes and even smoke for her at times. The ability to strike ultra girly glamour girl poses came in handy later in life when I became a fetish model. She began to spend more time making me up in the transformations. She purchased showgirl length eyelashes for me, Chanel lipsticks and perfumes and exotic eye shadows. I had beautiful earrings and chokers in rhinestones and little princess tiaras. Pretty pink feather boas and on days I was turned into a pink satin French Maid I would be holding a little pink feather duster with pink ribbons on the handle. As soon as that Barbie doll hair was in place there would be no trace of boy at all. She bought a few wigs for me that had light blonde hair that went all the way down to my ass. She started to use silicone breast forms and pad my butt a little at times and I would look like a little porn princess. There were times when she would tie me down on the satin sheets with ribbons and just tease me for hours. She would use the pouf sleeves of a satin party dress to lightly tickle my cock. She would tickle my nipples and tickle torture my feet and tummy and then take my cock in her satin-gloved hand and stroke me gently for hours and hours. I learned to hold back my orgasms then. The sensations of her satin glove on my cock were so exquisite I never wanted it to end and orgasm would be an end. When I would finally cum after several hours I would pump out as much as a pint of semen. One very memorable evening she came to me in the pink satin corset, long pink satin gloves, white seamed stockings, marabou high-heeled slippers with pink ribbons on her wrists, garters and ankles wrapped in pink feather boas with her breasts and vagina fully exposed. She also had a pair of pink satin bunny ears on her head and handfuls of streaming satin ribbons. She told me to call her "Tickle Bunny" just like the little stuffed rabbit I had as a small child. Her lipstick and eye shadow were done in shades of pinks. She wore a long blonde wig as well that night. She tied me up so I was helpless, covered me in a pink satin gown and then tickled me until I was in tears before jerking me off through the satin gown. She affected a blonde bimbo airhead personality as she drove me crazy for her. After several hours of playing with her as "Tickle Bunny" we were hugging and kissing and just being girlfriends together. Her coming to me as "The Tickle Bunny" bought back many memories of the satin games she would play with me before the age of five. I asked her that night how old I was where she began to tickle me with ribbons and give me satin massages. I was shocked to learn that the tickle games with satin had started when I was just one week old. She told me I cried a lot as a baby and that she would suckle my little wee wee to quiet me, as she rubbed satin on my body. She told me all that in a little girls bimbo voice as she played with my cock with her satin gloves. Since I had gotten one answer I had been searching for I just said, "and the satin gown in my closet"? She smiled and called me a silly bunny and said of course that was for me. What could I do? I took her into my arms and said." I love you Tickle Bunny, I love you mommy." We kissed and cuddled for hours afterwards. Other times she would also tie me in the ribbons and spend hours masturbating me with her long, kid leather gloves and smoke cigarette after cigarette. She would light two Virginia slims 120's at once and stroke my cock with one gloved hand holding a cigarette and play with my nipples with the other. She would cover my nose and mouth with a gloved hand so the butt of one cigarette was just under my nostril so I could inhale the scent of her smoke and leather. She would run the shaft of her cigarette being careful not to burn me up and down my erect shaft. She would go on and on about the buttery soft leather. "Submit to mommies leathers sissy doll". "Look at mommies pretty cigarette in her black glove sissy girl". "Look at mommies lipstick stains on her gorgeous long cigarette". She would pull up her leather dress and put the filter end into her vagina and then hold it to my lips and tell me to smoke. After an hour or two of her teasing she would squat over me and say "Lick Mistress Mommies Vagina darling sissy baby". I would lick at her clitoris and stick my tongue deep into her musky hole moaning in pleasure. After I would lick her to at least two orgasms she would take a smoke break and resume stroking my cock with her kid gloves and she would ash my mouth. After her smoke break she would go into the bathroom and shit but not wipe. I would then be told it was time to prove my love for her and my total submission to her. That nothing of her body was dirty to me. She would spread her as cheeks apart slowly lowering her "divine anus" to my mouth to give me a good look at just how dirty it was and a chance to smell her. I would then begin to lick her clean as my cock would absolutely twitch. My moans were not of disgust but of deep pleasure, as I would lick every speck of her shit from her anus and thrust my tongue deep inside her. To a totally aroused fetishist in a state of total submission what would be disgusting in a normal frame of mind becomes a loving act of devotion. As I would continue to lick her anus she would once again have orgasms and her vagina would drip onto my chin. To finish a leather masturbation session she would take the ashtray she had used and then empty it into my mouth and pour a glass of her urine into my butt filled mouth. She would than take my cock into her mouth and suckle me to orgasm. Even though my father was living at home at the time he wasn't really there. He would leave for work at 6:00 AM and would often work as many as 20 hours of overtime a week. Most nights he would not even come home for dinner. His camera club activities kept him away at night as well. On many weekends he would be away to shoot weddings for a local studio. It gave my mom plenty of time for her new sewing activities. Since my dad would never bother or even think to look in the closet in my bedroom she just kept all the gorgeous little creations she made for me there. Acetate bridal satin was not expensive at fabric shops and she was a very skilled seamstress. To this day my fetish is still for acetate bridal satin. It is very slick, shiny and slippery and feels like heaven on my skin. New leatherwear was a problem because of the cost and the fact that my father seemed to be in a repression phase he was not buying much for her. At least she had a great collection of leathers from the past. Soft and expensive leather is just as big a fetish for me now as satin. My father would also visit often Vermont for the entire weekend. The trips were for nature photography and to visit friends he made from a time when he would drive Maria Von Trapp from New Haven back to her lodge in Vermont. I still have signed copies of the book the Sound of Music was based on. Maria Von Trapp would visit the nuns at the Catholic hospital where he worked and they had asked him if he would drive her down and back several times. Maria was defiantly not a problem I felt I needed to solve! During that time I also began for the first time ever to live up to my potential at school. She told me the better I did in my school work the more she would transform into a satin doll and be my leather Mistress. I began to get grade point averages from 3.8 to 4.0 all the time. It wasn't even hard and I never studied and could still pull down a perfect grade point average. My report cards had gone from all C's and D's to solid A+ all the way down. Most kids my age would be bribed with a promise of a raised allowance for better grades. I was bribed with kinky sex and I can attest it worked. I also found that for the first time in my life I began to make normal male friendships at school. I was out of my fantasy world and become a full-integrated individual. I had no more need to remain lost a in a dream world where I was a prancing, little pink satin princess because I had it what I so had so long desired in reality. We managed to keep our incestuous perversions secret and were always careful to never let father know. She still wouldn't allow me to masturbate or cum between our sissy love sessions. Up until that point the only incestuous perversion she had not indulged in with me was intercourse. She used her skill as a seamstress at that time to also enhance her leather wardrobe. While leather gowns, dresses and other leather fetish items were way out of her budget she found that she could purchase incredible hides in soft garment kid, lamb and calf hide and that they could be turned into incredible creations with just a heavy duty needle on her Singer machine. She ordered some heavy-duty zippers and made an Emma Peel cat suit and a long strapless leather evening gown in glorious, shiny lambskin. She ordered several packs of a cigarette that is no longer manufactured form a tobacconist. They were Sherman 164's and when she came to me in the cat suit in thigh boots and leather gloves she would smoke those 164's and reduce me to a puddle of mush. The first time she wore that incredible suit she pulled her hair back into a bun with a ponytail at the top. She had done my transformation into princess Barbie before doing her own make up and dressing. She called me into her room and just strutted up to me smoking a 164 and said "Mommy feels bitchy today baby". She was in leather from the neck down and her make up was all severe black eyeliner and heavy black eye shadow. She looked absolutely evil! She took me over her knee and beat my ass raw with a hairbrush and then masturbated me to multiple orgasms with her leather gloves as she chain-smoked using my mouth as an ashtray. She called me a dirty little whore as I moaned and writhed in pure ecstasy. It was the summer of my 15th year that my father once again left home. I was glad he was gone. I spent that entire summer as her girl. She bought me Barbie dolls to play with and I spent my days worshiping her and playing like a little girl with dolls. I loved my Barbie dolls and dressing them up in glamorous satin gowns. She even made me some outfits that summer in satin that were glamorous black satin evening gowns and let me wear leather opera gloves and even smoke in them. A few times she even had me tie her up and tickle torture her and then spank her. "Call mommy a bad girl Barbie, Spank mommy Barbie doll!" She wore that latex nurses uniform a few times for me that summer with rubber gloves. She began to give me enemas and started to use butt plugs on me and even lick my asshole out. Our lusts just grew more and more perverse with each passing day. Mommy the rubber nurse taught me to serve as her urinal and then to lick her ass clean after her toilet. At other times she would also dress up in a pink satin party dress and we would play dolls together and tickle games as two twisted little girls. We were also mail ordering fetish magazines from Europe that dealt with leather, latex and the most extreme of perverse sexuality There was one day when the pattern broke. She dolled me up for the day and told me to play with my dolls. I must assume my parents had connections in the underground S&M and fetish community in the area. She returned home later with an adult transvestite she called Sally. Sally was dressed in leather and mother taught me to suck her penis. She masturbated me as I sucked the transvestites' cock and then took a load of cum in the face. She told me I looked so cute covered in cum. That was a one-time thing and she never mentioned it again. Those fetish magazines from Europe were incredible and were full of erotic fetish stories that pushed the limits of sanity and beyond. One story was about a week long "Goddess Ritual" where the dominant would use endless unbearable pleasure to break a slave to her will forever. I showed it my mother and she loved the idea. In the story the mistress used latex on the slave but she adapted the concept for leather, satin and smoking fetish. It required a few days of work to set it all up and I didn't mind helping at all. The first step was to hang a mirror on hooks from the ceiling in the center of her bedroom. We had a long, wooden table in the attic that I cleaned up and carried down the steps. I went to the local fabric shop and purchased foam rubber and placed it in the table and then used a staple gun to upholster it in pink satin. I even made a satin table skirt to make it prettier. The last step and to place eyehooks around the edges to hook the restraining cuffs to. A pink satin pillow trimmed in lace for head and another for under the arch of my back completed the preparations for the ritual. It was important that it be comfortable because I would be bound to that table for as much as twelve hours a day for most of a week. While I was making the table she went to work and made what amounted to a straight jacket in double faced pink satin and a drawstring pouch that would encase my cock and balls at night. The pouch was also made in double-faced satin and too small to allow an erection once tied in place with the satin ribbon drawstring. If all went according to plan it would prevent erections as I slept at night and not allow the massive amount of cum that would be building up to escape from a nocturnal emission. My mothers I.Q. and twisted perversions exceeded even my own and the plan was downright evil. She made a few calls to friends in the scene and borrowed a few last pieces of equipment. A Foley catheter for day four and a gates of hell cock restraint for day three and she told me several very kinky, twisted and sick surprises. I picked up a bedpan and open bottom toilet seat at the pharmacy blushing beat red as she went to the store and picked up frozen dinners for the week. On Monday morning the third week of July of my fifteenth year she hung a sign on the door that said, "Gone shopping" and unplugged the phone and we were ready. We moved in a second table and laid out the toys and other items such as exam gloves, two cartons of Virginia Slims 120's. Eve 120's and those long 164's Baby bottles filled with water to keep me from dehydrating and toilet paper, tissues and wipes. There were two ashtrays, one for the ashes and the other to collect the butts that would be used later. They were to be kept clean and pretty with her lipstick stains. That morning she woke me at around 7:00 AM and I showered and prepared to be made over. She made me up in all pinks with the longest blonde wig with ribbons in my hair. A pink satin garter belt with white seamed silk stockings and long satin gloves were to be all I would wear so she could get at as much bare skin as possible. I was sent back to my room to wait for her to dress and do her make up for the day then. It took her about an hour as I trembled with anticipation and more than a little fear. I heard her voice calling to me sweetly then to come to her. She had on the long sleeve Leather cat suit she had made with her leather corset over it cinched as tightly as possible for a wasp waist hourglass figure. Her long leather thigh boots and a pair of short kid gloves. She had done her eyes all in black like the most of extreme of the fetish models we had seen in the magazines with costume lashes over an inch long. She wore blood red lipstick with red glitter and had painted an exotic mole over her lip. Her hair was up in a severe bun and she looked like a total slutty bitch. "Come to Goddess little girl, Goddess has plans you for you darling sissy". She positively purred. She laid me comfortably on the table and arranged my hair long and flowing. My arms were arranged so two satin sashes were under my shoulders and then she put my ankles and wrists in padded leather cuffs. She hooked my wrists to the eyehooks so that my arms