Sissy Stepson 10 Stepmother s Sissy
- 3 years ago
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Protecting Her Sissy free porn video
When my Mistress took me as her own, she insisted I begin keeping a
journal. It's a catchall of my thoughts, wishes, fears, etc. It's also a
record of milestones, both serious and silly. This little story is based
on the journal entry recording an erotic dream I had after months of
orgasm denial. I have tried cleaning it up and making it more realistic,
and easy to follow, than the original dream was.
I am still learning how to write stories, so any helpful hints or
constructive criticism is more than welcome. [email protected]
The Protection of her sissy
It had been such a lovely day. I was able to take a day off of work so I
could spend the whole day with my Mistress. As we do when we have enough
time, outwardly I was fully dressed and made up as who I really am
inwardly. Not in eccentric sissy fashion. Though I have to admit, I do so
very much love that look. No, today was a day I thought was to be limited
to service. A plain black skirt, ending just above the knees and a red
blouse. Add to that a pair of nude stockings and red wedges and that was
my outfit for the day.
Mistress had been kind enough to do my hair and makeup, as she is an
absolute artist with both. No wigs for me. I have spent the last several
years growing my wonderfully thick hair to the point that it came to my
mid back. She is able to make it truly beautiful when she works her
magic. Long, flowing curls that I could stare at for hours. I freely
admit it, my hair is my weakness and my one true area of pride.
When it comes to makeup, she is also an artist. But even the most
talented artists are limited by the materials they have to work with.
It's me, I'm "materials." I will never be passable. But I'm learning that
that's okay. I don't have to be. I don't have to be because it's about
who I am on the inside. And who I am on the inside is Tabitha. And no one
can bring out who I am on the inside like Miss Ruby. I have always felt
more peaceful and happy when I dress. But with her help, it is like
becoming a completely new person.
After I made it to her home and she helped me become me, we sat for a
while to enjoy a cup of coffee and talk for a bit. Afterwards, she gave
me my list of chores for the day. I won't bore you with the details of
washing dishes or hanging up Mistress and her husband's clothes. But I
will say this, the household chores I do for Mistress I count myself
genuinely lucky to do. I lose myself in service. Not only do I genuinely
enjoy household chores on her behalf the way I never do in my own home,
it also helps "put me in my place" more as Tabitha. It is a comfort -
mentally and emotionally - to me, taking care of tasks in her home.
She had excused herself when I started my chores. Nothing unusual in
that. Often she was busy with her own tasks while I worked. Though
usually she was within sight. Well, to be more accurate, she kept me
within sight of her. She enjoys watching me work. But there are times she
has things to do that keep us in different parts of her home. I did not
hear her step back into the kitchen as I was finishing the dishes.
Because of that, I was startled when she spoke.
"Tabitha, when you are finished with the dishes come downstairs and
present yourself."
I turned to respond but she was already gone. I wondered then if I had
failed in my tasks somewhere. Had she found a spot I missed while
cleaning the bathroom? Was hers or her husband's clothes put away
improperly? Did I put the wrong sheets on their bed? All these things
started racing through my mind. And all because she disappeared so
quickly. Usually she expects a response. But she had given me no time and
now I was worried. It's mental torture, being someone who overthinks
things so much.
After finishing the dishes and wiping down the countertops a final time,
I put away my gloves and made sure everything else was put in its proper
place. Then, almost trembling, I walked down the stairs. The hallway at
the foot of the stairs that led to her den had never seemed longer. As I
entered the room I saw that from the corner of my eye that she was
sitting at the far end of the room on the couch. I looked at the floor,
concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other as I approached
her. When I reached the proper distance before her, I fell to my knees.
As much as I wanted to look up at her beauty I kept my eyes downcast, as
was proper. I didn't dare break protocol and look up at her. Especially
not when I was already afraid I had displeased her in some way. No, I
kept my eyes respectfully on her feet and waited for her to speak. When
she did, her tone was far more gentle than I had worked myself up into
expecting. It was tender and caring.
"Tabitha, what are you?"
It took me a moment. Because I overthink things so badly I have a
horrible habit of thinking that the answer to this kind of question must
always be more complicated than it really is. I was beginning to learn
that the answer is often very simple though.
"Mistress, I am...a sissy," I replied, barely above a whisper. For as
much as I am finally accepting myself for who I am inside, it is still
difficult to voice it openly.
"And who do you belong to?"
This time the answer came without hesitation or thought.
"You, Mistress. I belong to you," I proudly answered.
"Good girl. Yes, precious, you belong to me. And you have made such
wonderful progress since I have taken you as mine. I am very proud of
you," she said.
My heart swelled with pride. So much so that my eyes began to well up
with tears of joy.
"Tell me, when was the last time you had an orgasm like a man?"
"Mistress, I don't know. I stopped counting long ago," I replied.
And that was an honest answer. Mistress firmly believed that a sissy
shouldn't cum like a man. Ever. We had discussed it many times. As
strange as it may sound, I agreed with her completely. When a sissy
orgasms, she often loses focus on being a proper submissive companion to
her Mistress or Master. I never wanted to lose focus on pleasing her. And
if a sissy has some kind of point system to "earn" a release, she is
focused on that instead of just losing herself in service to her Mistress
or Master.
No, it was best for me not to have orgasms like a man. And because of
that, in my mind, it was pointless for me to count how long it had been.
All I knew was that it had been many months. Frequent teasing and edging,
but never an orgasm.
"Good girl. It doesn't make sense for you to count the days, does it? And
does it make sense for you to look forward to the next time?"
"No ma'am, it doesn't," I quietly replied.
"Why not? Stop...don't overthink it, precious," she says. "I can already
see you hunting for the answer. I want the truth from your heart. Not the
reasoning from your head."
"Because I am not a man, Mistress. And so I shouldn't cum like one. I'm a
sissy. Your sissy. We have talked about it so many times, ma'am. A sissy
shouldn't cum like that. Not ever, Mistress."
Are my ears playing tricks on me? Did Mistress just...moan?
"Good girl. Such a good girl. You don't know how much that answer pleases
me."
And I can hear it in her voice clearly now. The excitement. The sensual,
sexual excitement.
"Tabitha, we have discussed this many times. You have told me what you
want. I have told you what I want. Now is the moment of decision,
precious. Do you believe in your heart what you just said? Do you
honestly want to commit yourself to those words?"
Suddenly, I was scared. Terrified. I did believe it. She had shown me the
wisdom of it. It not only made sense in my head, it felt right in my
heart. But I knew that it would be more difficult that anything I had
ever done.
"Mistress, I do mean it. I do." I could hear the certainty and the fear
in my own voice. So could she. And when she spoke, I could again hear the
joy and excitement in hers.
"You are such a treasure sometimes," she almost moaned. "Kiss."
And I lowered myself to her feet and kissed them softly, reverently.
All's right with the world when I am at the feet of my Mistress.
"My good girl," she said so very softly. "Kneel up. Keep your head bowed
and close your eyes, Tabitha."
I heard her rise and move to the cabinets. I heard her moving things
and...placing them on a tray? I heard her gasp and moan again. Then I
heard her return and my heart began to race. I felt her presence, heard
her set something down beside me.
"Raise your head, Tabitha, and look at me."
I did and was rewarded with the vision of a Goddess. Immediately I was
lost in her eyes. I saw her eyebrow twitch and my heart fluttered. The
eyebrows that can reduce me to a frightened, trembling little girl. Oh
how they are so perfectly, and powerfully, arched. Again my eyes welled
up with tears.
"You're such a delicate little petal. I know you are afraid, precious. I
know you are. And that's okay. It's okay for you to be afraid. But I know
you also know why this has to happen. And Tabitha, my sweet little sissy,
I also know that deep down you want this."
I felt the tears begin to fall. Felt myself growing weak. Saw her grow
more powerful and confident. Saw her begin to breathe more heavily.
"Stand up, petal. We need to get you out of those clothes. Skirt and
panties off, precious. Now."
"Yes, Mistress," was the only thing I could reply. And even that was
barely audible. I tried to be graceful, as Mistress had taught me. But I
was trembling too badly to have any kind of coordination. She saw this.
She saw everything. She saw my body. But she also saw my heart and soul.
She saw my deeply held desires and my overwhelming fears.
"Stop. Hands out to your sides," she instructed. Then I felt her reach
out to turn me away from her. I felt her hands move to the top of my
skirt and unzip it. Then I felt her tug at my skirt, pulling it down.
"Pick it up and hand it to me," she told me, "and bend at the waist this
time."
I bent. Still facing away from her it exposed my bottom to her gaze. And
her touch. I felt her reach out to caress my bottom.
"You know, someday soon I am going to enjoy watching a man take you," she
said, as her caress turned into a squeeze. And, God help me I couldn't
help but moan and wiggle.
"Slut," she laughed, and slapped my ass. "God, I adore you, you little
sissy."
I stood, turned, and handed her my skirt. Which she promptly tossed aside
without a second thought. Then she reached out and tugged my panties
down. No hint of teasing playfulness now. No, I could tell she was
getting caught up in the moment. Almost forcefully she pulled my panties
down, leaving me exposed to her gaze. And, just as every time in the
past, the sight brought another laugh from her.
"Such an adorable little peen," she giggles. "So tiny and harmless. It's
positively girly, isn't it, petal?"
"Yes, Mistress," is all I can say to that. I can't hide the fact that
it's small and there is no point in trying to lie to myself about it. I'm
very much a "grower." Yes, when it's grown it is within the average
range. But still on the small side of that range. But when soft? Well,
when soft one could be forgiven for thinking I have a micropenis.
"What good is this little thing to a woman? Have you ever pleased any
woman with it? You don't have to answer that, princess. I already know
the answer. Of course you haven't. Your talents lie with your lips and
tongue," she said. "That mouth of yours is every bit as exquisite as
this," and here she reached out to flick the head, "little peeny is
pathetic."
As strange as it may sound, this made me worship her all the more. Being
one that loves - craves even - humiliation and degradation from her, I
adore it when she speaks to me this way.
"But it does serve a purpose, doesn't it? What is its purpose, Tabitha?"
She asked this as she looked into my eyes. Trapped by her gaze, I knew
the answer she wanted. And I knew the answer she wanted was also the
truth.
"Mistress, it reminds me of my very special place. That I will never be
an assertive man. And also that I will never be a true woman. It also,
because I don't and shouldn't get to cum like a man, keeps me in an
excited and submissive frame of mind. It reminds me always that I am a
sissy. Your sissy, Mistress."
The look on her face was angelic and demonic at the same time. Her
breasts were beginning to heave again. I could see the excitement getting
to her more and more.
"But I still need to protect you, petal," she said. "I need to protect
you from so many things. I need to protect you from the pain that always
came to you in the past when you tried to use your little peen. The
emotional pain of knowing that you failed to please whatever women you
were with with this little nub. I need to protect you from ever losing
focus on pleasing me. I need to protect you, princess, from ever thinking
you are a man. Of ever thinking you could function as a man."
I was lost in her words. On some level they hurt. But they were also
right. She was right. And then she continued.
"I am your Mistress. You are my precious little sissy. It is my job to
protect you, isn't it?"
"Yes, Mistress," was the only possible answer I could give.
"To protect you physically and emotionally, both, correct?"
"Yes, Mistress," I said again.
"And because your little peen can't please a woman it brings you so much
torment doesn't it? When she is expecting something that you know you
will never be able to deliver, doesn't it hurt? Don't you feel like such
a fraud, pretending to be a man, when you are just a sissy?"
"Yes, Mistress," tears again starting to well. She had me on an emotional
roller coaster and she knew it.
"It's okay, petal. No more. You don't have to worry about that ever
again," she told me.
She reached to the side, and I followed her movements. For the first time
I let my eyes take in what was on the tray she had brought out. A cage.
But unlike my usual cage, which was pink plastic, this was steel. And it
was the smallest thing possible. There would be no room for even the
smallest bit of growth. Laid neatly beside it there were two keys. But
one had been encased in some kind of clear material. A hard resin, maybe?
It had been made into a necklace, while its twin was laying there bare
and untouched. Beside those, two bottle of some kind of liquid, a tongue
depressor, and a pair of latex gloves.
My fear began to rise dramatically as the realization set in that the
moment was here. We had talked about this before, many times. We had
talked about it erotically, in the heat of the moment. We had also talked
about it logically, clinically almost. But now it was about to happen.
Isn't it strange how you can want something, genuinely want it, and then
be terrified when you know you are about to be granted your wish?
A single tear fell. One small tear. But not small enough to escape her
notice. Her voice, when it came, was heavy. It was husky.
"Tabitha," she said, "I know you are scared. It's okay to cry, petal. I
would be shocked if you didn't."
And while I dared not say it, it went through my mind that she would not
only be shocked if I didn't cry, she would be let down. She wanted my
tears. She wanted my fear. But more than anything, she wanted my
surrender. My willing, if frightened, acceptance of her judgement and
control.
She was suddenly a blur of motion as she reached for the first piece of
the cage, the ring. None too gentle in forcing my little eggs and peeny
through the ring, she was at least not overly harsh. No, just focused.
Determined. I could see the blush in her cheeks spread lower to the top
of her breasts as she reached for the rest of the cage. I shouldn't call
it a 'cage' as it was just a...cap?
Had I a moment longer to look down at her like that, I may have begun to
get erect. She did not allow me the chance. Before I knew it, she had the
cage on me and was putting the locking mechanism in it. But she left the
key in the lock. She left it because she would need to take the lock out
momentarily.
"Kneel," she almost gasped. And as I knelt I could see she was
surrendering to the heat. There was no other way to describe her than
'aroused.' She was so beautiful, and so frightening in that moment.
Kneeling, my knees spread wide so she had full access I again cast my
eyes downward. It was proper and it was habit at this point.
"No. I want you to watch. I want you to see what is happening, precious,"
she told me. Her voice firm but excited.
I watched as she pulled on the gloves. I couldn't help but think of all
the times she had pulled on gloves in the past so she could play with my
P-spot. I knew this time wouldn't end with me moaning and leaking like a
little slut. Not this time. I knew this time... And then the tears started
to flow.
I couldn't look away as she uncapped the bottles and poured out equal
amounts of liquid from both. I felt almost faint as I saw her pick up the
little wooden tongue depressor and begin to mix the liquids together.
Somehow, some corner of my mind was aware of the sound of her breathing
getting heavier with each moment.
And then she was reaching for the key, still in the locking mechanism.
"I am going to take the lock out for a moment, Tabitha," she said. "When
I do, you are going to be a good girl and hold the cage together. Do you
understand?"
I tried to speak, I did. I couldn't. I couldn't make the words come. I
looked at her through my tears and nodded my head 'yes.' I think I even
mouthed the words. But no sound came other than my own whimpers.
"Good girl. Just a bit longer, my delicate little petal. You can do it,"
she told me.
I felt her removing the lock and key. Somehow, I managed to hold the cage
together with shaking hands. I followed the lock with my eyes. Watched as
she rolled the mechanism in the epoxy, knowing that once it was set, my
fate was eternally sealed. And realizing that, my tears turned to sobs.
"Mistress...." I finally began to stammer. But too late. Much too late. She
was already moving the mechanism back to the cage.
"Watch," she commanded. "Watch as I slide it back in. Watch as I protect
you from 'sliding into' anything ever again."
The tears continued to fall. My own breath was nothing more than a ragged
series of sobs.
As much as I was sobbing, she was moaning as she slid the mechanism into
the cage. A turn of the key locking the mechanism in place and then she
removed the key.
"We aren't done. Not yet," she said.
And so saying, she then worked the key itself through the epoxy. Once she
had a nice, even coat of epoxy on the key, she moved it back to the
mechanism. Tears still falling, I watched as she put the key back into
the mechanism. She didn't turn it. She didn't move it at all. Just let it
rest there.
I knew from having used epoxy before that my time was quickly running
down. I had only moments to turn the key and remove the mechanism before
the epoxy was set. Before my fate was sealed.
She knew it too. She sat back on the couch, watching me as I knelt before
her with my knees spread wide and my hands on my knees. I couldn't take
my eyes off the cage. Off the lock and key. I felt my hand twitch the
smallest bit.
"Look at me. Look into my eyes, Tabitha," she ordered. And as I did I saw
the excitement there. I saw the power. The raw feminine power of my
Goddess in her full glory. Her confidence and surety calmed me. It
reassured me. I was still frightened. Still terrified. But how could I
not submit to her.
"Your time is ticking away, precious. In just another moment you will
have run out of time to reclaim what passes for your manhood," she said.
"It's okay if you want to try, princess. I know you're scared. All you
have to do is turn the key and pull out the lock. Go ahead. Do it."
It was almost a challenge. She was taunting me. Testing me. My hand
twitched again. Looking into her eyes, tears still falling from my own, I
gave her a look that was almost as defiant as it was devoted. I raised
both hands, watching for her reaction, and slowly moved them behind my
back. I clasped my hands behind my back, which forced my chest out. At
the same time I spread my knees as far as I could. There was no escaping
her gaze.
"No, Mistress," I said. Tears still falling, fear still mounting, I
finally found my voice. "I will not."
As I said it, I could see her press her thighs together. I watched her as
her eyes closed for a moment. Breasts heaving and a moan escaping her. I
watched her, knowing the signs. Knowing that she was so close to release.
And then she moved, as quick as a lioness pouncing on prey. She thrust
herself forward and reached out for me. She ran her fingers through my
hair, gently at first. Then, balling her hand into a fist she used my
hair to jerk my head back. She held my head steady, unable to look away
from her. At the same time I felt her reach lower. Felt her grab the key.
Felt a tugging, twisting pressure.
And then several things happened at once.
I felt the key snap. As it did, staring into each other's eyes, Mistress
exploded into orgasm. An orgasm that I knew I would never experience
again. The words escaped her as this all happened. Not so much a
sentence. Just words.
"Locked. Forever. Sissy."
As she collapsed back onto the couch, I collapsed as well. At her feet. I
couldn't stop myself from kissing them over and over.
"Thank you. Oh, Mistress, thank you," I whispered over and over. My fate
sealed. Tied forever to Mistress.
And then, interrupting the moment, her phone chimed.
"Oh dear. It looks like hubby finished work early today," a devilish,
sadistic grin on her face. "He's on his way home right now."
And as she saw the fear spread over my face, I saw her thighs squeeze
together again and heard another moan escape her throat.
******
If you are still here, thank you for reading this far as I rambled on. I
hope it was worth your time.
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