Sappy Anniversary

Four years ago today, after being Her submissive for just over a month, Mistress presented me with my 'training collar' as she called it.

In one way or another its never been off since, and the 'training collar' became *my* collar, although we have not had a formal ceremony as of yet to mark the occasion.

The leather collar now-days is reserved for formal occasions or intense play. I wear a chain around my neck at all times instead. But its always around my heart.

Even during the worst of times. We've had a lot of ups and downs over four years...especially 2012, where thanks to problems at my job (which continue to this day) and the crappy economy, we had to give up the house which was her studio and my home. So much tears and hurt...but it is outweighed by far, by the love and joy in our lives.

It is our bedrock. We've weathered the storms of finances and bad luck and ill health and all the slings and arrows this world throws our way so far.

And I am still madly, deeply in love with this powerful, beautiful, intelligent and funny woman, and I am still in awe of the depth of her loving, caring heart. I am truly blessed to be loved by her, and made a part of her family with her lovely sweet husband who has welcomed me into their lives.

(Thank you Sir. I know it wasn't easy. XXX)

There are times when I've been at a low point, especially in this past year where I have examined and reexamined my life and didn't like what I saw. I'm about to turn 40, unmarried and childless. Not that I ever wanted kids but at this point in a man's life its What is Expected. Still dirt poor at the bottom rung of my chosen career and not going anywhere anytime soon.

But those dark thoughts pass. They always do. Because I am the loved and collared slave of Mistress Erisiana Cherie.

Life doesn't suck. :)

Happy Anniversary Mistress. I love you so.

Thank you for bringing me into your life.

Strapon Therapy

Its been a brutal last few weeks at work as my busy season hits its peak, working 6 days a week, 60+ hours a week or more. I haven't been able to spend much time with Mistress, and what time off I've had has been running errands and doing drudge chores and all of that other mundane day-to-day stuff that you do as a part of life. Add to that more than a bit of depression, and worry about how I am going to pay my bills and make ends meet when the season ends on November and I become once again almost-but-not-quite unemployed.

So my libido has been suffering quite a bit...all the time at work seemingly filling up my life, becoming my life and taking it over for all intents and purposes. And despite being a submissive and sexual sissy I have this kind of macho thing where I bottle up all of these problems and dark feelings so as not to let them affect those I love. Mistress has plenty on her own plate without me adding to them: its better to just be stoic about it.

But there's only so much pressure one can take, and a couple of days ago some of the cracks began to show. I opened up to Mistress about all of what I was feeling, the insecurities and worries, the feelings of disconnect and isolation. We spent some time cuddling and making the pain go away, reconnecting with each other.

And then the next night, after another 10 hour workday she decided to reteach me what my *real* life is--that is, being her feminized sissy slave. Reality, not fantasy.

It wasn't elaborate...I wasn't made up or dressed in anything really exciting (like the photo above, taken from our video "Tia Transformed & Taken"). Just a sissy-ish baby blue tshirt and matching thong.

I wasn't feeling particularly pretty either...I'm all hairy now, there really hasn't been much in the way of time over the past three months for shaving or much in the way of feminine maintenance. But the exterior stuff....didn't seem to matter. Once Mistress put on her strap-on and made me suck it, and beg for it, and be fucked with it deep and hard and powerful, her taking me roughly and grabbing my hair and holding me by the throat, or pinning my hands behind my back as she fucked me and made me admit to how much I loved her cock, how much I wanted nothing more in life than to service her cock and anyone else she chooses as her sissy whore...I melted beneath her, feeling her body shudder with pleasure as she had several orgasms from fucking me...I felt my body open up with total sissy whorish abandon, wanting it more and more....my cockette totally frustrated & ignored but being in total acceptance of that, and surrender to it.

Wanting her to use me as her girl now and forever.

So hot. So frustrated right now writing this, still in the same panties, feeling my legs and ass muscles ache and clench and want to be taken all over again...

Yes. I'm feeling much better now. :)

Thank you Mistress, for putting me in my place and making me see once again that this is my real life, my life as your slave, and it is oh so sweet.

Figurative ass-kissing

I call written worship, things like letters of adoration, "figurative ass kissing". You know, as opposed to literal ass kissing, which would be when someone's face is pressed against my ass, lavishing it with kisses and licks and...you get the picture.

I like both kinds and Tia has standing orders to send me a written thank-you at certain times. Like every time I use him sexually, whether he's allowed to cum or not. It's like the dom equivalent of maintenance spankings for me. Waking up to this in my inbox helps keep me in my happy place:

Just wanted to write and thank you for using my slutty body last night Mistress... Oh...ohhhh it felt so good to be fucked by you, to give you an orgasm with your cock buried deep inside my slutty ass. It was so hard to not cum myself... I cannot remember the last time I was allowed to cum even remotely close to being a 'real man'. For the past few months I think I haven't been, and my body is being retrained to only have sex as your girl....and that thought makes me squirm and ache and shiver. It felt so powerful last night...you grabbing my hips, my hair, taking me roughly, leaving me no doubt that I was your bitch and you are in charge. And all I can do is sit here and ache for more today... --your sissy

Things I love about sissies #1

He asked me last night in the middle of a passionate play session “Mistress, I know this (feminization) is my deep fetish…but what do YOU get out of it?”

I answered with the first thing that popped into my head: how much I love having a special girl, one who’s a girl just for me. Not that I want to keep her to myself; I love sharing my beautiful sissy slavegirl with the world! But in a way she’s my creation; she’s the girl I made her to be. I’ve chosen her clothes and makeup, I dictate the way she paints her nails and what bath products she uses. I’ve molded her on the inside too, always demanding that she learn new skills. She’s like a giant Barbie doll: I get to dress her up however I want. Then when she’s dressed I get to play all sorts of delicious sex-games with her. And her warm, whimpering, quivering, moaning, melting flesh is a LOT more fun than those tiny plastic Barbie-bodies ever were.

There’s appeal in the artistic process of this, the actual choosing of clothes and makeup and stuff. The sculpting of her style. There’s pure physical pleasure in the sexual & intimate services she provides. There’s practical pleasure in her more sensible services too. But I admit that what I get off on most from all this is just being in control. She is the way she is because I willed it to be so. I created her. And that makes me feel like a goddess.

I’ve been planning for a while to embark on a series of posts on the subject of ‘things I love about sissies’. There are so many things I love about femme boys in general and my girly boy in particular, it’s not possible for me to write one essay and feel I’ve said all that I want to say on the subject. I mean to make it an ongoing project instead, writing a short post every time some new thing-to-love occurs to me. My pet’s question has prompted me to finally start. :)

Happy Birthdayversary! (the butterfly emerges)

We ate our feast of bbq and yes, he did drink the beer from the dog dish. (I let him have a second bottle though; I’m such a softie.) Then I was finally ready to let my filthy slut get cleaned up. I stood and tugged at his leash, prompting him to scramble up and follow me on a tour through the house. On closer inspection it delivered more in the way of ‘derelict den of iniquity’ than I could ever have imagined. We are going to have a LOT of work ahead of us to get the place back into decent shape. But eventually we ended up in the bathroom, where a poster of Frank Zappa on the toilet watched as I stripped my sissy down and ordered him into the shower.

He shivered as he stood there naked while I fumbled with the pliers that were necessary to turn the water on. Then he yelped and jumped away when the spray hit him. “Oops, I guess I forgot to mention that the hot water heater is broken too!” I chirped with malicious glee. My fanatically fastidious pet finished his shower in record time and I had to laugh when I saw how careful he was to not wet anything that didn’t absolutely have to be washed. I was not such a pansy when it was my turn; after the first shock of cold the water felt good against my heated flesh.

When we’d finished bathing it was time to complete the feminine transformation of my pretty pet. I fastened the collar around his neck and led her, still naked & shivering, back to the living room. There I dug around in my duffel bag until I found the outfit I wanted: a pretty babydoll nightie, with stockings and panties to match. The fabric of the nightie was sheer ivory georgette accented with black and red. The underwire bra that made up the bodice had miniscule black polka dots, while the skirt that fell from the empire waist was decorated with pairs of black pinstripes running like pleats down to a slight ruffle at the hem. The entire thing was trimmed with narrow black lace and tiny, strategically placed red satin bows.

I chose black fishnet thigh-highs to go with it although that violates our usual ‘black is for dommes, not sissies’ rule. Dressing Tia up is truly like dressing a giant living Barbie doll for me, expressing my inner fashionista, and the aesthetic demands of the OUTFIT take precedence over mere D/s protocols. (And besides, I know what black fishnets do to my leg-loving sissy, and I wanted to push every possible button in that slavish mind.) Next came breastforms, the big DD cup jahoobies, and the finishing touch: sheer red panties, decorated with red velvet dots and tied at the sides with red satin ribbons.

Practically like a great big red bullseye now that I think about it, hehehe!

I slipped her new heels back on her feet and fastened the red suede shackles back around her wrists and ankles. Now it was time for makeup. I took my time, carefully painting her eyelids in shimmering shades of pale aqua and mint, lining them with a glittery purple and adding black mascara and long fake lashes. I used a crimson stain to outline her mouth, giving pouty fullness to her lips, and added sheer red cherry-flavored gloss for sexy shine. A light dusting of blush on her cheeks and there she was, my beautiful porcelain-skinned sissy slavedoll.

This would be the time for her to don a wig, and I know she feels prettier and more feminine when I let her wear one, but I haven’t been fussy about the way she gets her hair cut for no reason. And my insistence on gradually adjusting her style to a more androgynous one pays off at times like these, when I want her to look perfectly pretty but still want to be able to pull the fuck out of her hair. I selected a matching headband decorated with pearly beads, settled it on her head, and her style was instantly transformed into a gamine pixie cut.

Once she was completely dressed I just couldn’t stop staring at her, she looked soo beautiful. Sparkling, mischievous blue eyes batting long lashes at me…pouting red lips made for kissing…silky curls begging to be touched…those legs, those gorgeous curvy legs in the slutty black stockings and heels..and omg that ASS. And looking and looking at all that soft pretty femininity made me want to sully it.

I ordered her down on her knees and reached for gizmo again. This time before I strapped it around her head I made her suck the longer dildo end. And as she sucked I gave a running commentary, telling her what a good little cocksucker she’d become and how very pretty she looked while doing it. Telling her how much I loved shoving my dick down her throat, and up her ass, and every other place I could violate her with it. Rubbing it in her face and making HER tell me how much she loved being raped in every possible way by me, how much she loved being my depraved fuckdoll, how she wanted to be my sissy slavegirl forever.

Finally I strapped the gizmo around her head and pulled her to me. I leaned back into the sofa cushions and guided the dildo into my wet pussy. For a few moments I just watched her head bobbing between my legs. She looked so helpless, so bound and servile..the raped & broken fuckslave of my most perverted fantasies. What an incredible thrill it was to have taken her like this, used her like this. What a thrill it was to own her. Then I closed my eyes, moved one hand to my clit and the other to my recently pierced nipple, and began to wank off again.

I came again, far too quickly. And afterwards we slept, both of us exhausted by the exertions of the day.