Interview With A Reluctant Sissy free porn video

Interview With a Reluctant Sissy By Cassandra Morgan The church was hushed, reverent. There were flowers everywhere, wrapped in lace and red hearts. The organ played old love songs. Sedate. Unintrusive. It was a wedding day for her. And for her. Steven and Miriam sat in the middle of the church, fascinated by what they saw around them. There were obvious cross-dressers, and people they wondered about .There were Mistresses with their pets on leashes. There was a man surrounded by two other, more docile, men. There was the mother of the bride. My God, Miriam said, what must she be thinking? She leaned over to her husband. "Fags," she whispered. "Shhh," he said. "They're everywhere." Hey, its 2015. Miriam had a gay cousin, Robert, who got married to a man last summer. She had a co-worker, Misty, who marred her girlfriend last month. Same-sex marriage was legal a lot of places these days. You'd have to be a puritan not to be aware of it. And so it wasn't the two sissies in the front of the church that amazed her. Or that one of them was her ex-husband Phil. It was the whole damn scene. It was a fetish lover's delight. There were sissies in elegant maid's dresses. There were waitresses. There were leather-bound mistresses who seemed there to reinforce stereotypes. There were men holding hands. There were women holding hands. There were butches and femmes and sissies and dommes and subs and pee drinkers and shit eaters and Republicans. In the middle of the church, the role of Father of the bride belonged to a woman. So that's Mistress Anita, huh? She escorted Phyllis up the aisle, and then she came back and escorted Munchkin. They were both beautiful, both in long, flowing whispers of white satin. No one in the wedding part wore a tux. The maid of honor, Flower I think they called her, was in a soft yellow dress beside the altar. After Mistress escorted Munchkin, she then took her spot as best man. "Do you take this sissy to be your wife, and your husband, in sickness and in health?" the priest began slowly. "Do you promise to obey her in the manner your mistress demands..." Miriam had done this twice. First to Phil, then later to Steven. Steven was better. He had been her lover for a year before they told Phil. It had started slow, over lunches. Later, they belonged to the same yoga class. Then they went for drinks. Finally, Steven had kissed her, and it was like stealing. It was sweet and delicious, and she could only imagine Phil watching them as they fucked. That would have been nice. If serious, conservative Phil had seen Steven's cock slide and out. A shame he wasn't a sissy in those days. He could have tasted them both. Miriam smiled. She would have loved for Phil to have seen Steven's penis. He could have sucked it for a while. The pictures came in the mail six months ago. She had Mistress Anita to thank for that. It was a plain envelop, and the snapshots just fell out. Phil in panties and bra. Phil in a green dress. Phil in a pink maid's outfit. My God. Again, it is a rainbow world. There are so many gay people, so many people straining to be recognized, to be embraced, to be accepted. So it wouldn't have surprised Miriam to learn that her ex-husband had a male lover. He was a sex shrink, after all. They were dealing with perverts all the time. Guys who played dress-up, guys who liked to be spanked, guys who liked to be tasered. But this? Phil in dresses? Phil in makeup? Phil doing dishes? Come to the wedding? Hell, of course she would come to the wedding. Why miss a day at the circus? Why not be amused by an ex-husband as he became some sissy's wife? I wonder if they would make love first, or clean up the reception hall. Ha. Which would get Phil hard first? She looked at her husband. She tried to imagine him in lipstick. No, that didn't fit. Steven was a lawyer, and he looked it. There was no sissy in him. Of course, earlier that day, in the church courtyard, Munchkin - Kim - had suggested that there was. Was she just trying to get a dig in on Miriam? Maybe. Or maybe Steven really had flirted with her. He was all man, and Munchkin was gorgeous with her green eyes and her soft brown hair. Were those her own breasts? Miriam wondered. How common was it for a straight guy to be attracted to a sissy? Oh, Miriam knew. If Steven was in a bar, and there was a gorgeous girl to his right, and there was a sissy to his left, Steven would go after the gorgeous girl. But what if there were sissies on both sides? Would he give in? Would he walk on the wild side? She looked at Steven. Had he ever worn panties? Even as a kid. He had a older sister. Had he ever gotten into her makeup? Did he ever sneak her bras into his room? You know, Miriam thought. He'd look cute. And now they were kissing. Phyllis had lifted Munchkins' veil, and she had cupped her cheeks in his hands, and he was giving her a long, slow kiss. After a moment, as always happens, the crowd laughed with glee that the kiss was going on too long. Phyllis finally broke free, then kissed her again. And then there were lips everywhere. Mistress kissed Munchkin, and Phyllis kissed Flower, and Flower kissed Munchkin, and Mistress kissed Phyllis, and Mom kissed Munchkin, and her husband kissed Phyllis, and Flower kissed Mistress. If there had been an altar boy, the priest probably would have kissed him. Then the guests began to approach the altar. Phil was married... ...to Tim Ryan. Will wonders ever cease? Miriam smiled. It really was a lovely image if you didn't think about them blowing each other in the hours to come. They said every bride is beautiful on her wedding day. That evidently went for sissies, too. Everyone was laughing now. And rice was being thrown, even though it was bad for the birds. Someone was playing "Wonderful a Tonight." In the old days, they would have rushed off to their honeymoon cottage. But not these days. These days, the reception is a huge party in their honor. Oh, there was a cake to be cute - and someone had found the perfect cake topper with two maids on it --- and a first dance and a father's dance with Munchkin's dad - Phil's had died years ago. Guys always hit on the bridesmaids. Miriam thought that Flower was going to be a busy girl. Miriam looked around and counted the straight couples. There were a few, not many. Normal folks, she thought. Natural folks. A tab and a slot folks. She took Steven's hand. They were going to stop by the reception for one drink, because that's what you should do. But as they moved toward the back of the church, Mistress Anita stepped in front of them. "Miriam, Steven, I can't thank you two enough for coming," she said. "Thank you, Anita. It was a lovely ceremony. It isn't every day you get to see your ex-husband become someone's wife." Mistress smiled. "It was beautiful, wasn't it?" she said. "Yes," Miriam said. "It reminded me of my own wedding, and of course, why our marriage didn't work. I'm afraid Phyllis was too much woman for me." "Was that it?" Mistress said. "I thought it was because you couldn't stay away from Steven's cock." "Excuse me?" "You heard me, Miriam," Mistress said. "I do not stutter. But it's okay. It's all water under the bridge. All roads of our lives lead us to where we are today." Miriam looked as if she was going to say something. She did not. Steven just looked at the two of them. "Anyway, Miriam, I was hoping to ask you for a small favor..." "A favor?" "Yes, dear," Mistress said. "Phyllis has worked on a series of interviews about the dominant lifestyle. She's talked to Flower, and to me, and of course to Munchkin. It's becoming quite a collection of viewpoints, an exchange on the concept of sissies and Dommes and the lures that brings quite normal man into the life. Well, obviously, you two have a history together. I doubt either of you could maintain your objectivity. So the long and short of it is that I would love to talk to the two of you as a gift to her. Now, I'm not a shrink, not like Phyllis or like Munchkin. But I've spent a lot of years in control. I'd love to give it a whirl." Miriam furrowed her brow. "And how long would it take?" "Oh, a couple of hours. Why don't you and Steven come to the mansion for the weekend? You would get to see Phyllis in her role as a maid, and you would have a lovely meal or two. It would be delightful." "Well, I'd love to see Phyllis serve," Miriam smiled. "Does she really dress like a maid?" "Ha. Yes, she does. And she looks great? So it's done? Next weekend. Steven, you can come, too." Steven jolted out of his silence as her permission for him to attend. Of course he would attend. Why did he need permission? Miriam paused. Then she said this: "I'd love to come, Mistress. It sounds like a fascinating weekend. What do you call us? Vanillas? I'd love for a couple of vanillas to see the way you live." "It's settled, then. There will be six of us. A six pack!" "Anita," Miriam said. "Can I ask you one thing, though. A personal thing?" "Of course, my dear. We have no secrets here. What has your curiosity?" Well, Miriam said, almost whispering. "How does the wedding night work?" Mistress smiled. Such a predictable question. The straights always wanted to know who was putting what where, and who was licking what body part. Did it really matter? And what would excite Miriam the most to hear? "Well," Mistress said, taking Miriam by the hand and pulling her aside. "Your ex-husband is going to get the fucking of her life. I imagine Munchkin will let her blow her. And I'll have my strap-on, of course. She'll suck Flower off until Flower comes on her face. Then the Johnson twins, Herm and Harry, will be there. She'll blow them both. And Alissa will piss on her. She loves water sports, you know. After that, we'll probably just change partners and do it all again. Then she'll get her ass up and make my breakfast. Mistress let the room go silent. The images were forming in Miriam's head now, colliding with each other. Her mouth was open. "I tell you," Mistress said. "It won't be like you two were with two screws in the missionary position, I bet." "How did you know..." "Oh, darling. I know everything. After all, it's only sex. Now, let's go get some cake." *** That night in bed, Miriam was quiet, thoughtful. She was normally a demanding lover, open in what she wanted for her husband to please her. But tonight, she could not get get the two sissies out of her head. What were they doing. Was Phyllis pegging Munchkin? Was Munchkin blowing Phyllis? Were they slathering oil all over each and rubbing their penises together? She look at Steven. He was reading a magazine. He was wearing blue pajamas. How ... ordinary. "Steven," she finally said. "Have you ever thought about ... dressing up?" "What do you mean, M?" he said. God, she hated it when he called her M. "Have you ever worn panties?" "Oh, are you thinking of Phil?" he said. "No, I've never worn panties, honey. Most guys don't. Not most straight guys. Now, I've worn some skimpy men's briefs, briefs that were damn near panties. But it doesn't make me want to put on a dress and mince across the dance floor like a fairy." "It could ... fun," Miriam cooed. "Not my thing," Steven said. "Now, if you want to wear a judge's robe..." "Really?" "No," Steven said, laughing. "Look, if you want sex, I'll try to make you see stars. But I'm not a girlyboy. I'm just not. Nothing against your ex- husband, but he's more girl than boy." Miriam pouted. "I wanna play," she said. Steven put his magazine down. "What do you want to play, M?" she said. Miriam stood up. She went to the closet and pulled several ties off of his tie rack. She grinned wickedly. "I want to be Mistress Anita," she said. "I want you to kiss my ass." Steven smiled. "Oh, Mistress," he said, laughing. "Bring it to me." Miriam came toward the bed, stopping by the bureau long enough to flip a switch to the camera equipment Steven bought her for their last anniversary. She then walked up to the bed and turned. Steven ran his tongue lengthwise up her asscrack. Then downward. Then he butterflied it deep into the hole. It tasted ... musty. "A thousand licks a minute," Miriam said. "That'll keep it shiny." Miriam closed her eyes and felt his tongue probe her. Finally, she reached down and took his right hand, and with one of the ties, she tied it to the bedpost. She picked up his left hand. "Hey, not that tie. I'm wearing that tomorrow." She tossed the polka-dot tie aside. She bound his left hand. Then his right foot. Then his left foot. He was hers. She pulled her panties off and squatted over his chest. She played with his lips with her fingers, sliding one deep inside. Then she scooched up, covering his face with her pussy. She adjusted, then settled in. She felt his tongue start to work. She gently rocked. "Lick your Mistress," she whispered. "Lick it, sissy." And he did. No one ever checks the time in the middle of sex. No one ever thinks about tomorrow. No one makes plans. There are just the two of you and the nerve endings and the pleasure. Miriam was alive. She imagined herself with a belt, or with a cane. She imagined herself making Steven sleep in a dog cage. She imagined her forcing Steven to suck some stranger's cock. Munchkin's, maybe. If she could get him to do her bidding, it would make her a powerful being. Like Anita. She had never been this wet. She feared that Steven might need a snorkel. Oh, she had tied him before. Their bedroom games included that much. The ass-kissing had been done before. But heavy kink? She had him lick her once when she was on her period. That's about as far as they went with the heavy stuff. But as she imagined herself as a domme, her mind ran wild. She could see him dressed up as a Girl Scout while he ... bought her cookies. She could see him with a ball gag. She could see him...with tits. That image flashed in her mind, and she loved it. Breasts were wonderful. Even the straightest woman has thoughts about another woman's boobs. It's natural. It's life. Men don't have boobs, so women do without. But most of them would love to lick a nipple, to nurse, to fondle. If that makes me a dyke, well, give me a tennis racket. Finally, she felt her orgasm creeping up on her. She shivered. She moaned. She tried to rub her crotch deeper onto his face. If she had a dick, she thought, she would have him deep throat her. She smiled. Now THAT image was in her head. Of her having her very own dick, thick and long. Steven would suck her endlessly. It would slide down his throat, in and out of those beautiful lips. She would tap his ass. She shifted, putting her weigh onto her right knee. She reached into her night table. She pulled out a dildo, long and textured to feel like skin. She rubbed it on his face. "Do you want to suck this, Stephanie?" she said. "Kiss my cock, baby. Embarrassed, he turned his face away. His lips closed tight. He didn't want this. He wasn't gay. He wasn't Phil! Miriam stood. She untied one leg, then the other. "My hands?" he pleaded. "No," she said. That was it. One word. She scooted a pillow under him, shoving it all the way to the small of his back. She rubbed the dildo against his anus. She smiled. "Beg for it, Stephanie," she said. "Ask me for my cock." "Please, don't do this..." "Phyllis is getting a real one right about now. Would you rather have a real one? I could call some guys..." "Come on, Miriam. That's enough." ""You're right. It could be bigger, but it will have to be enough." She squirted lotion onto his ass. She pushed it in, slowly. It didn't want to go. Damn, he had a little butthole. She put on more lube, then pushed harder. It went in a bit. Then a bit more. He was whimpering now. Were those protests? Or invitations? Did he want it out? Or further in? Or both? In and out and in and out and in and out. She diddled him, and she noticed how hard his cock was. She slid in deep, then got up and walked to the bureau. She pulled out a pair of her panties. She dangled them against his cock. He lifted his groin toward them, as if not to break the contract. She ran them up his torso and over his nipples. She pinched one, then the other. But it wasn't the fingers that stirred him. It was the panties. God, it was the panties. "I'm Phil," she said, lowering her mouth onto his cock. "Think about my cock. Think about getting it in your mouth next. Think about being my sissy, you faggot." And he came. > > And came. And came. > *** Across town, in the Marquis, soft music played. The lights were low, and two figures swayed in the dark. A third poured champagne. Phyllis - Kitten - took her bride by the hand and led her to the bed. She kissed her deeply. She rubbed her breasts against Munchkin's breasts. If it had not looked like two women, if you did not knowthese had been born two men, you would have merely thought that it was lovely picture of a wedding night. Then the third figure leaned in. Flower. She kissed Munchkin. She kissed Kitten. This was not the violent sex that Mistress Anita so often directed. This was love as much as it was sex. This was sweetness. "I love you both," Flower said. "But I shouldn't be here. This is your wedding night. "Hush," said Munchkin. "Quiet," said Kitten. "We want you here. We want you always. You are a part of us. A ring doesn't change that. We are all bonded together. Mistress knows that." "Yes," Munchkin said. "If she were to marry you, I'd still want to be with you. We should talk to Mistress about getting you a matching ring." Flower said nothing. She dropped to her knees. She kissed Phyllis' crotch at the same time she touched Munchkin's. Lord, she loved these two. She had been a gift from Mistress to them both upon their wedding. The vanillas would not understand. They are into two hearts and two souls and forever and ever. But you could make it work with three. Polygamists do it all the time. To Kitten, that' swhat if felt like. Like polygamy. Initially, she had loved Flower. She had even preferred her to Munchkin. But both she and Munchkin were psychiatrists. They had much in common. Diplomas on the wall, sex on the floor. But Flower made them complete. She was sweetness in heels, the earth- mother of the bunch. Her loyalty to Mistress was fierce, but except for that, she was pliable. Men - and women - fell in love with her at first sight. The three moved to the bed, bodies askew, arms and legs and breasts and penises. Flower took a tube of lubricant and spread it on the buttocks of Munchkin, then those of Kitten. She took out a double-sided dildo. She inserted it into each ass, and the two sissies gyrated their butts in a slow, sensual dance. Shake your booty, indeed. Flower smiled. She watched them for a while. She loved that they loved each other. They were the Cartoon Sissies. Kitten, Munchin and Flower. After a while, she lay in the bed on her right side. "Triangle," she whispered. Kitten did the same, only her head was at Munchkin's crotch. Munchkin's head was at Flower's crotch. Flower's head was at Kitten's crotch. They leaned in, and they started nuzzling. Slowly. Sensually. Balls were licked. Tips were sucked. Shafts were adored. Slowly, they began to finger each other as they fellated. It was a proper triangle daisy chain. Sissy love. The future always worried Flower. Would these two stay under Mistress? Would they move out on their own to build a life? Flower lifted her face. "Never leave me," she whispered. "Never, whispered Kitten. "Never," whispered Munchkin. Never. *** > The next morning, Anita was in a great mood. A terrific mood. Good sex did that for her. She almost danced through the living room. She sang as she made breakfast. She was in afterglow. > > By comparison, Steven was quiet, downcast. He hadn't liked the direction their games had gone the night before. He honestly felt like she had treated him like Phil would have wanted to have been treated, sticking the rubber dick in his mouth, trying to put the panties on him, applying lipstick. He was angry, but he hated to be confrontational when Miriam was in a good mood. It led to ugly fights, fights she usually won. It's odd. He was an attorney, which meant he argued for a living. And he could not win a point with her. Granted, he was an entertainment lawyer, and it had been years since he had been in a courtroom, but his training was intact. So why couldn't convince her of anything? "Hi, Stephanie," Miriam said when she noticed him in the kitchen doorway. "Last night was wild! Give us a kiss." Steven turned his head away from her. She stopped, then kissed his cheek instead. "What's the matter, baby?" she said. "You...you raped me," he seethed. "You tied me up and took advantage of me." Miriam's jaw clenched, and her eyes grew dark. "I did not!" she said. "That's a filthy lie. A fucking filthy lie! Rapists are horrible creatures, Steven. Am I a horrible person? Rapists should be made to wear their dicks as necklaces and their balls as earrings!" "But you made me..." "Did you say no? Did you once say no? I have it on video, remember? Want to watch it? There is rough sex, and there is rape. And in no way are they they same, Steven. You're a lawyer. You look it up." He was on the defensive now. No, he hadn't said no. Maybe he could have been clearer about what he wanted. Maybe he could have spoken plainer. But Miriam was on the warpath now. Her face was red, and her fists were balled. "Let me tell you something, you fucking worm. I gave you what you want. I reamed your ass because you don't have the balls to ask for it. I fed you the dildo because you aren't man enough to ask for the real thing. I tied you up because you didn't want to get away!" "..I guess," he said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything." "No, Stephanie, you shouldn't. You queer! You're just like fucking Phil, the ladyboy. You want to suck dicks, too. You want to marry a man, too." "No, Miriam. It isn't true." "Of course it's true," she sneered. "You bitch. Tell me, Stephanie. What should I do with that video? Should I send it to the Preacher? You think he'd like to see that his kid isn't Perry Mason. He's Ally McBeal!" "Please, Miriam. Don't." "Oh, I could hurt you, Stephanie. I could hurt you bad. If it was discovered that you wear women's clothes, it might not get you fired. But it would cost you millions in clients, I bet. You'd get kicked out the Country Club. You get kicked out of Rotarians. But you know what would be worse. If you had to explain panties to the Preacher." "But I don't wear women's clothes..." he said. "Maybe not yet," Miriam said. "But you will. And the Preacher will want to hear all about it." The Preacher was Gregory Nelson, Steven's father. He was a prominent television evangelist in Iowa. His show had gone national in the 90s. TMZ would love to hear that the Preacher's kid was a pervert. Miriam was right. Legally, he was safe. He wasn't going to prison to be a bad man's boyfriend. He wasn't going to be disbarred. But actors and singers hated scandal for their attorneys. They'd drop him like a burning fryer. He looked sadly at Miriam. There was pain in his eyes. "What can I do, M?" "For one thing, you can knock off that M shit," she said. "At least use a title. How about a tribute to Bette Midler. Gays like her. You know, The Divine Miss M. You can call me The Divine Miss M. Or Mistress."' "Yes ma'am," he said. She smiled. The son of a bitch could not argue for shit. He could barely defend himself in an argument. Hell, for all she knew, the Preacher slept with sheep. And that was just too damn baa-aaad." She laughed at her own joke. Mistress Anita lived this kind of life. She gave the orders, and she ate bon-bons. Miriam could get into that. She was ready for a female-led marriage. She had thought a long time over whether she should have kept Phyllis as a partner. Well, she could get her own Phyllis. She could get a better Phyllis. "Stephanie," she said. "I'm tired. Would you make me a couple of tea?" "Yes, ma'am," he said. "And maybe some quiche?" *** The town car pulled into the circular driveway of the huge mansion. Miriam and Steven got out of the car and looked admiringly at the home. This was Anita's home. This was where sissies roamed as far as their cock cages would let them travel. Miriam handed her suitcase to Steven. Already, he was overloaded, but he didn't complain. He knew better. The last two weeks had been a nightmare for him. Miriam was dominating him in the bedroom, making him drink her piss, making her suck her dildo, making her wear her panties. Was it really fear of the Preacher? Of the loss of money? Or did Steven yearn for this, the same way Phil had, the way that Tim had. The pull to this lifestyle was certainly more common that she would have thought. There were more an amazing amount of men who wanted nothing more than to be sissies. What was it, Miriam wondered. Who in hell turns their life over to someone who can spank them, embarrass them, humiliate them? Who wants to iron? Or to get on their knees and scrub toilets? Or cook, all day, every day? She would probably never understand the warped minds of the submissive. But she liked the other side of it. She liked having her feet kissed. She liked having her clothes pressed. She liked Stephanie straining for the smallest bit of praise. As they walked toward the house, the door opened and Anita walked out. "Miriam!" she said, air-kissing a greeting. "How wonderful to see you. You look fabulous as always. Oh, hello, Steven. So, Miriam! How was your trip?" Anita wrapped her arms in the crook of Miriam's right arm and walked with her. Steven walked behind, silently. "Do you wish to rest for a while? Or should we talk, my dear?" Anita said. "I'd love a glass of iced tea," Miriam said. "Then Steven can put our clothes away while we get re-acquainted." Flower left to get the drinks. There was no sign of Munchkin or of Phyllis. Miriam guessed they would appear when she was ready to see them. They walked into the den, where the velvet couches faced each other. Miriam sat. Anita almost alit, coming gracefully to a halt as she faced Miriam. "So," Anita said. "I see there has been a change in the authority dynamic at your house. You are now in charge?" Miriam's eyes widened. "How do you know?" "My sweet, I have three of my own," Anita said. "A mistress can sense these things. Steven never spoke unless you addressed him. He carried the luggage without being asked. He walked behind you. He is on his way, my dear. He will be a fine sissy." "You think? I'm not sure. He doesn't like it." "She is new," Anita said, waving her hand. "She is learning what she wants. Don't they all?" "But she's, what do you call it, a reluctant sissy. She isn't like Phil or Tim." "Or Flower." "Or Flower," Miriam nodded. "No offense to any of them. But they wanted this. The dresses. The cocks. The wimp factor. They hungered for it. I only got Steven to do this by threatening him. It wasn't like he caught the virus that went from Flower to Phyllis to Munchkin? The fag virus, I call it?" "All roads to the same destination, Miriam," she said. "Men all have the same hearts. At their soul, they are all sissies. They recognize our superiority, and so they emulate it as much as they can. When that fails, they serve us. It's a fascinating dynamic." "I suppose. But tell me about your sissies." "They are...weak. You can't hold that against them. It's in their gender. When I found Flower, she was working in a drag show. She was into dresses already. Tim bought his own dresses and tried on the lifestyle before coming to me. Phyllis was the toughest of the three. She wanted it, but she had inner conflict over it. It took her so much time. It's one reason I had her marry Munchkin. It's funny. Munchkin, and Flower, and did I tell you that they now call Phyllis "Kitten." I feel like I'm in the Rocky Horror Show with Columbia, Magenta and Nell." "Was their adjustment quicker?" "I'm sure of it. They took to chores immediately. Breasts were easy enough for Munchkin and Flower. The cock cages worked for all three. Having sex with men? Again, it was harder for Phyllis than the other two, but it came quickly enough, no pun intended. You might say they had penis butter sandwiches the next day." "Do you urinate on them?" Miriam said. Anita smiled. "Infrequently," she said. "Just because it's so messy. But sometimes, a lady has to go. There are times you can feel the need for debasement by your sissy. It's a hunger, a thirst. Most Mistresses forget that in our own needs. But sissies crave humiliation like a fish craves water." She laughed, and it was like someone had opened a music box. She was a lovely woman, petit but intimidating. Lines were beginning to form at her eyes, and soon, there would be gray at her hair. She was perfect, smart and strong and free. Yes, Miriam would like to be her. Maybe she would be. "How long before I should introduce Stephanie to cock?" she asked. "Stephanie, huh? Maybe tonight. Would you like to borrow Flower? Or maybe Kitten? That would be humiliating, to swallow the sperm of her wife's ex- husband. Of all dicks, to kiss that one. I love it." "I don't have her in dresses yet," Miriam said. "It's early. There is time. Of course, mine were all dressed by this time. I would say you make Stephanie join the others in the kitchen. Let her primp and pose. I know. We'll let her wear pink, and Kitten will wear black, and Flower will wear white and Munchkin will wear red. They will be as distinctive as a deck of cards." "We could cuckold Stephanie!" Miriam said. "You and I could fuck and make her watch." Anita gave a small grin. "Would you like that, Mistress Miriam?" "Yes," Miriam said. "But you should know. I am now known as the Divine Miss M." Anita clapped her hands together. "That is so delicious!" she said. "We will have such a fine time. You will be a good tongue wench for me!'" "Excuse me?" "A tongue-wench, my Divine Miss M. You certainly don't expect us to be equals, me being a long-time domme and you just starting out. You have so much to learn." "Uh. I guess not," "Of course you don't. That would be silly. Now, why don't you come and kiss my pussy. You know, just for practice." "Ma'am?" "Miriam? Now would be a good time." Miriam slumped to the floor. She had not expected this. She had not expected to find a superior. She felt The strength within her fade. She felt her power wilt. She felt like a predatory fish that had been eaten by a bigger fish. It all rushed out of her, the fight and the ego and the will. What was she thinking? She was a fraud. This was the real Mistress. She was hers yo command, and they both knew it. She duck-walked on her knees to Mistress Anita. Anita spread her legs just as Flower entered the room with the iced tea. Flower smiled to herself. Already? Miriam leaned forward and lifted the hem of Mistress' dress. She leaned forward. Mistress was wearing no panties, and her pubis was freshly shaved. She had planned this, Miriam thought. All of it. "Oh, as for Stephanie. She's in your room now, getting fucked by Phyllis and Munchkin. But not for your power. For mine. They were waiting when she came in, poor child. She never had a chance with those two. One of them has her ass. The other has her face. She may not be a sissy. She certainly won't be mine. But she will never been the same. She will never want to be the same. You won't be, either, my pet." Anita placed her palms on Miriam's head and guided her into her crotch. "Did you know that women could be sissies, too, M" Anita said softly. "There is nothing intrinsic about a man doing the job. Women can cook, and they can clean, and they can suck cock. They can iron, they can dust, and they can take it up the ass. You can be my sissy, too, M. My pussy wench. And if you like peeing games, just wait? My God, Miriam thought. I am so naive. I fell so willingly into her trap. Will I ever escape? She closed her eyes. She leaned forward into her first vagina. She inserted her tongue and tasted the pungent nature of it. "Oh, my M. You sure can lick pussy." Miriam thought. She loved being called by that name. What was the rule? A thousand licks a minute? That would make it shiny.