Life as a Rich k Ariana Grande 2
- 3 years ago
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The Grande Masters free porn video
The Grande Masters & Sissies Cotillion (travel day-part1) (Sissy slave
Moxie and Master Marku travel to a gay resort on Lake Michigan to get
ready for an indulgent weekend of debauchery and fun.)
Master is at the head of the airplane. He is business class. I am back
in steerage. Economy ticket is all this sissy deserves. I'm very
excited. I don't get to travel much, and this weekend is soooooo much
fun. I'm sitting in the window seat, kind of getting squished by some,
college student who is all elbows and knees. I can only retreat so far
into the hull of the airplane. I'm wearing a simple travel dress, in a
floral print with a ruffled peasant top. Master only allows me to dress
feminine, which is one of his commands that I most happily obey. I have
no interest I'm my former male identity. I am wearing full makeup,
(absolutely required by master that my makeup be flawless, at all times.)
I have my shoulder length hair braided into a ponytail with a pink
ribbon, for ease of travel. I am wearing simple jewelry; hoop earrings,
a bronze chain bracelet, a few rings, but most importantly, a gold choker
around my neck. If you look, it's locked with a tiny padlock, a symbol
of my servitude, but you have to know what you are looking for, and what
it means. I am inspecting my nails. They are hot red, and very pointy,
just like Master likes them. I am dying to touch them up, but, airplane
etiquette says no.
I return to my reading, a romance novel, a real bodice ripper, with
pirates and kidnapped daughters from noble families. Master restricts my
reading to fashion magazines like Cosmo or Vogue, cooking magazines
(because duh, I do all the cooking) and only the most torrid of romance
novels and teen reads like that Vampire series with that pouty girl, no
one likes, and so forth. I am allowed to listen to a couple news
podcasts when I am cleaning the house. He wants to be able talk to me
about world events from time to time, I mean when I am not gagged, of
course. It's not a hostage situation, I am allowed access to the outside
world. I am with my master, whom I adore, voluntarily. I have a set
keys to the front door. If I want to pack my bags and leave, Master
makes it clear I can walk out the door. He'd even let me have my savings
account, that he keeps for me, so I could get back on my feet, rent a
place, that sort of thing. It is equally clear I wouldn't be able to
walk back in, ever, if I do make that decision. Master gave me his long
list of rules, pages of pages of them, up front after I passed my
relatively brief but sex filled month long probationary status. It was
important that we're compatible with each other, I mean my master is
totally a stud, and his cock is exactly what my bussy needs, and he
wanted to know my tolerance to pain and that I wasn't going to fall apart
after being spanked or otherwise being corrected. After I begged him to
take me in as his slave, (which is totally appropriate, I mean he's not
going to ask me, that's ridiculous) he gave me his list of rules, he told
me to read them carefully, and to initial each rule, that I had read
them, and most importantly, the list was non-negotiable.
"Sign it, or don't, because it's my way, or the Highway, bitch."
Obviously, I signed.
I can tell the college kid is staring at my tits. Master paid for my
boob job on our most recent anniversary. (I mean my feminizing hormones
were only taking me so far.) Master wanted Triple D's, and master got
Triple D's. Master gets what he wants, always. I have certainly noticed
that the crotch of his blue jeans has a definite bulge. My skirt does
not have a similar bulge, because I am chastised at all times by master.
I am currently wearing a plastic cage, that will get me through airport
security. My boi-clit is struggling just a tiny bit in its cage. I
really doesn't get hard anymore, it's the hormones, but it still, when
properly motivated, it kind of whimpers. I enjoy it. What most people
would find humiliating or at the least, uncomfortable or unpleasant, I
love it. It's a reminder that I have completely surrendered myself to my
loving master. And, hey, I dig the pain. Totally a turn on.
There is nothing I can do to relieve this young man's frustration. The
mile high club is really almost impossible to pull off. The bathrooms in
airplanes are intentionally designed to keep two people from getting in
there, and also, and perhaps even more importantly, master is in complete
control of all of my sexual activity. Sorry kid, no quickies allowed.
Too bad, it's quite a nice bulge. He starts playing some video game, and
I decide to eat my vegetable wrap, that I made for myself before we left
master's fabulous house in Malibu. (I live there too, of course, hey
even rent free.) I hope Master is enjoying his roast beef on rye, that I
made for him. He's not a fan of airline food.
The plane lands at the airport of this Midwestern middle sized city.
Master waits for me at the gate. He is smiling. Always a good thing.
"Miss me?" says my big tall, curly haired stud of a man.
"Terribly," I say with a smile, but yeah I did miss him a little bit, the
big lug. We have a very intense relationship, it's nice to have a
'break' from each other, ever so briefly, but then my codependency starts
kicking in, and I want him bossing me around. We kiss just for a
moment, I had left off my usual 'master' in my response. Airport
personnel are trained to look for human traffickers, and our hardcore S&M
lifestyle could get us a trip to the police station. It has happened to
our less discrete friends. Goodness knows we've got a suitcase filled
with whips, restraints, dildos, ball gags and other accouterments for our
fun long weekend getaway. Master puts his arm around me and we head
together to baggage claim, to get our checked luggage. We didn't pack
light. (I, of course, did the packing, but you know what I mean.). I
have one large suitcase just jam packed with my uniforms, lingerie, and
dresses. We make our way to the rental counter, master's protective arm
is around me, I love it. Master had reserved some gigantic SUV, and away
we go, to the gay beach resort on Lake Michigan. Once we are in the car
we revert back to our usual titles.
"I noticed a few gentlemen checking out your rack, bitch."
"The young man sitting next to me on the flight was quite, Uhm, fixated
on them master."
"Such a slut."
"Yes, master."
"I'm sure the other masters will enjoy them, those that like tits. I
expect you to be quite popular this weekend, Moxie
"Well my ass got plumped up too, so that covers the other half of the
Masters," I say with a grin.
We chat about the flight, and our observations about the passengers. We
are not very kind to our fellow travelers. Master tells me to use my
phone and try to locate a liquor store that is on the way to the resort.
I find one that looks fairly upscale, and we pull off. Master has rented
a suite, so we have a medium size fridge, so we can stock up the bar. We
stop and get the basics, rail vodka, gin, tequila and a basic whiskey,
and some mixers. Master's loaded, but he's only going to subsidize his
friends' drinking to a certain extent. We buy several bottles of
Prosecco, a nice port, and some craft beers. We stop quickly at a
supermarket and I pick up some basic food, for snacks and sandwiches.
Nothing fancy. After our brief stops, it's a pleasant half hour drive
through the countryside to the resort. Master parks.
"Hold on slave."
He unlocks my 'hey we're in public in the Midwest, and we are going with
a much more subtle slave collar', (see aforementioned human trafficking
issue) since we now are at a gay resort, where everything and anything
goes. I present my neck as he locks me into my usual electrum engraved
slave collar with a much less discrete padlock. Still dainty, the lock
of course, dainty like me. (Yeah my collar is electrum, Master's loaded
and hey he wants his special grrl looking nice. So it's win win.).
Master attaches a thin chain leash to the collar. He pops in a ball gag,
and smiles at me. He whispers to me "show time" and I give him a big
thumbs up. I slip on one of my 'go to' red high heels, still a sensible
two inches. (I wore my super cute chunky heel sneakers, pink of course,
to travel in. I just want to get through security with a minimum of
fuss, and the metal in our heels, guaranteed to set off those dang metal
detectors every time.) The parking area is gravel, but I should do fine
in them, I've got far sexier heels in my luggage, but there's nothing
sexy about toppling over in the parking lot.
The boss tosses me the keys and walks into the lobby. I drag our
luggage out of the SUV. Unlike the airport, where Master gallantly
removed our heavy bags off the luggage belt, and gave me the lightest
bags to carry; at the resort, we are in full on master slave mode. Hey,
this is what I signed up for, and it turns me on to no end. Also,
honestly I can't stand the check in process at any hotel, so I happily
let my master deal with it. Just get me to my freakin room! Why does
the check in take so bloody long? What the hell are those hotel people
looking at on that fucking computer? My credit history? Whether I've got
a record? I'm being judged! I know it! (Whoops, let me check my raging
paranoia, sorry, I am venting.) I struggle with the largest suitcase and
then schlep our baggage to the lobby. We are checking in a full day
before the event officially starts, we really love it so much, the Grande
Masters & Sissies Cotillion, but it is so nice to have a relaxing day,
before the full on bacchanal that always leaves us happy but exhausted by
the end of the weekend; the spanking parties, the orgies, the late night
dances! This gay resort hosts all sorts of themed weekends. This event
always sells out immediately. The staff are used to seeing all sorts of
fetishes and are probably into a lot of them. The lesbian at the front
desk, well that hair of hers is a complete tell, is chatting away with
my Master.
"I just love this weekend Mr. Marku. The sissies are always dressed in
the most fantastic outfits."
"Call me Dren." Master is very charming. I have to give him that, he
can talk to anyone.
"Is that your, Uhm, slave Dren?"
"Yep, get your pretty little ass over here Moxie, say hi." I scurry over
to my master and give the check in lady, her badge says Stacy on it, but
who knows if she picked one out of a drawer; anyhow I give Stacy the full
curtsy.
Master signals me to take off my gag, which I unfasten. It's not locked.
It is 'locked' with the will of my master, and also leaving it unlocked
saves so much time like this, when master wants me to interact with
someone, or I need to touch up my lip stick, take a sip of water, or you
know spit.
"Did you bring lots of pretty outfits Moxie?"
"Oh yes Mistress, my master is very generous."
"Are those, I mean they look real?"
"It's not padding if that's what you mean, they are enhanced, of course.
big time." I lean over and her the full cheese cake pose.
"Don't be shy with Moxie, completely unnecessary with xir. Xe is an
open book. Right, Moxie?"
"Absolutely, mistress."
Stacy smiles. "Girl up top, but lady-boi downstairs?"
"Yes mistress."
"Totally locked up?"
"Nice and tight," I say with a big smile. I can tell Stacy is totally
turned on. I think she digs my knockers, but knowing I am chastised,
that's part of it. She's a domme, that's clear.
"Do you have a cute maid's uniform?"
"Several, mistress and a bunch back home. We had to make sure the plane
would get off the runway."
"I can't wait to see you in them."
I give her big smile.
"You like?" inquires my Master.
"Well, Uhm, yes...."
"Interested?"
"I....I"
"Moxie's properly trained to pleasure her master and ... a mistress. You
must know how these weekends go," says my master.
Stacy, if that is her real name, looks quite embarrassed, but also
clearly very intrigued.
"When do you get off?"
"Uhm in a few hours..I."
"Well you know our room number, give it a knock. Moxie gives great
massages, xe's a chiropractor. Consider it your tip." Master winks.
Theoretically there's a bell hop somewhere, but Master to save time,
grabs the two heaviest suitcases. He towers over me. I am five foot
three, he's six foot, four. Master has a rocking hard body, big muscles,
the super athletic Californian. The same bags I struggled with he lifts
them like they are nothing. Hey, I'll take the help, our room is on the
second floor and they don't have elevators. This hotel complex is
completely a retro beach hotel. Love it. The rooms look out over the
complex's large outdoor pool. We get up to our floor and make our way to
our room.
"Stacy likes you."
"I think she's interested, Master."
"I was being polite, she has the hots for you, I bet you she comes by. A
little change of pace for my slave. A nice taco, to break up your
sausage diet."
"Hey you know me, Master, I dig a good taco," I say with a grin.
"Not me," says my master emphatically.
Master opens the door and we enter the best decor they could come up in
the eighties. Most gay hotels just are not going to bother. They fill
up, no pun intended, with a captive market.
Without any direction from 'the boss' I start unpacking. Master lies
back on the bed, I know that he slept like crap last night, I was in bed
with him, and his insomnia had kicked in. Poor dear. We were up at the
crack of dawn to get to LAX. Yucko.
"How's the mattress, my beloved master?" I should have said simply
Master, but it's just us, and I am going to be saying ' Master' a
million times this weekend. "It has a new foam mattress on it, much
better than last year's."
"Ah good, I like a comfy mattress when I am getting pounded into it by
some hot stud."
"If I fall asleep get me up in a half hour, I really hate napping too
long."
"I know sir, I'll keep an eye on the clock." I continue to unpack and
very soon I hear sleeping sounds from the bed. 'No tacos indeed', I
think to myself. Master has never been there, you know a 'gold star'
gay. Zero interest with the other sex. One wouldn't think after looking
at Studly McStuffmuffin over there snoozing away, that I, little old
sissy me, was the one of us who has lost their cherry to a girl. In my
case an older women, but of course, I would have been attracted to an
older confident woman. Duh. Master had made it very clear to me, that
he is interested only in girly-boi's, not actual girls. He wants me
feminine, ultra-femme, see exhibit A; my enormous tits that he paid for,
but if I was interested in going all the way with my transformation, and
getting a sex change down there, that would be a deal breaker. I'd be
out the door. He wants my little clitty locked up, but still there. No
vaginas allowed! I think that was rule two or three on that list. I
like my men, but a really dominant woman, sure, why not? Hey, I get the
hots for my fellow sissies. Lord knows our masters totally get off on
watching us grrls going at it. The more the merrier I say, but a big
hot, muscled man, bending me over and going to town on my bussy, yeah
that's the steak dinner for me.
Although I rarely eat meat, I mean as food. You know what I mean.
Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge. I look at my sexy master, god I do love him.
He looks so cute when he's sleeping. Women constantly throw themselves
at him, especially if they have figured out that he's a surgeon. Sorry
girls, it's never happening.
I finish unpacking. I look at my phone, he's been down for thirty
minutes or so. I start nudging him. "Get up Master, rise and shine."
"Fuck off."
"Wakey, wakey."
"Ugh I'm up."
"No drifting back Master, I know you too well, sit up."
"Hey, who's the dominant."
I drop instantly to my knees and start kissing his hand. He's only
joking. Such a grumpy Gus getting up sometimes.
"This submissive is just following prior orders sir, and know that if I
don't get you out of that bed...."
"Totally awake, get me a drink, crack open that Prosecco."
"Yes master." I open the bottle, cork gives a resounding 'pop!'
"Get yourself a glass, Moxie."
I smile. Master is in a permissive mood. Hey, we're on vacation.
Master's job is super high stress, peoples lives are literally in his
hands and I'm back in his mansion hoping the souffl? doesn't fall. I
mean that is also a tragedy. I pour my darling master a glass and then
one for myself.
"Should we toast, master?"
"To what?"
"Uhm, to you, master. Why not. To my favorite hot Albanian, who is one
bad assed dominant, who knows how to keep his bitch in place."
He smiles.
"Flattery will get you nowhere, but I'll drink to that."
We toast.
"So we've got the afternoon, what shall we do Moxie?"
I just stare back like a deer in headlights. Is he serious? He is. I
just so run on autopilot. Master says jump, and I say how high. When he
asks me my opinion, it can really throw me.
I look down. "This shouldn't be so hard."
"Did your train fall of the track?"
"Yeah a little bit. Free choice is a bitch sometimes.... " it dawns on
me, what I want, "let's hit the pool."
"Capital suggestion, sissy."
"Hey, I have a few good ideas every century or so. I have couple of swim
suits you haven't seen yet, I can't wait to model them for you master."
I drop the floor and start kissing his shoes. That's better. No
decisions for you sissy grrl, just blind obedience. Feels more
comfortable for me.
I scurry off to change into one of my new bikinis. It is a pale pink
with multi color polka dots, and rickets of lace on the cups and the
bottom. I jump out and yell "tah-dah!"
"That really show off your rack."
"You think?" I say with a goofy grin.
"Very ta ta's forward. You should wear that for surfing."
"I'm sure you would find it entertaining when my top came flying off,
quite the show, but then my missing top would be never found again. An
expensive thrill, master, sorry racer back tops are de rigueur when I am
riding the waves."
We had met surfing, not on the Apps, believe it or not. How Californian
of us. Once I got my sweet ass the hell out of Utah, and off to LaLa
land, I became obsessed with surfing, something about going from the
desert to all that ocean. Anyhow, I picked it up fairly quickly and
became a total surfer gurl. I know it's not a dainty sport, but it's
probably the only butch thing about me. Master and I were totally
checking each other out, as we waited to catch a good wave. I quickly
figured out that he wasn't into girls and he was unusually interested in
me. I was riding the rail between twink and trans. I wore my tight
bathing suit, but it was a speedo brief. I had my hair in a pony tail,
but no makeup. I answered to my former name. I was truly lusting after
my hot Albanian stud, but he was definitely circling, but not going in
for the strike. From the vibe I got, I wore a more flowery brief, really
my most femme bathing suit that was still for a boy. I wore some very
subtle makeup, and my surfing stud was clearly even more interested. For
our next surfing date, we were coordinating our surfing times, which is
basically dating, I went for it, I wore a bikini, full on makeup, and
used the girly version of my name. Master could not hide his raging hard
on, the entire time we were surfing. After the tides changed and we lost
the big waves, I told master that I was impressed that he was rock hard
in this cold water. He said that we had better do something about it. I
made begging hands. I was hot for that big fat cock. Master drove me to
his fabulous house, and he fucked me stupid. He got me hook, line and
sinker, and all it took was me being truly myself, dressing like the grrl
I feel like is the real me. Just a little bit of honesty with myself,
and I got the love of my life. We were super compatible in the bedroom,
Master started putting me in bondage, spanking me, and started
chastising me, and I was and still am, in seventh heaven. Master and I
surf several times a week. His beach adjacent house makes it super easy.
We head down to the pool.
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