Tonight's the night!

Mistress has been teasing me about it for weeks now, I still can't believe this is actually happening. My imagination has been running wild with sissy fantasies and daydreams almost nonstop, making it next to impossible to concentrate on anything else.

I don't know how the reality will compare to what I've fantasized...on the one hand Mistress is capable of anything, on the other she is very protective of me (and I love her for it) but may also underestimate how far she can push me over the edge and down that rabbit hole.

And, well, I also know how much the universe likes to disappoint me in life. I've learned not to let my hopes get up high about anything if I can help it. So I am...cautiously optimistic. Trying not to let my little daydreams and fantasies run away with me in case the reality doesn't quite measure up.

From my perspective the most delicious thing is that I truly do not know. It simply isn't up to me. I knelt before Her just over 4 years ago now, and gave myself to Her body heart and soul. I'm not 'topping from the bottom' with a vanilla gf/wife who is just trying to humor me. No, I really do belong to Her, the most exciting Woman I have ever known and she is just as eager to dominate me as I am to be dominated.

Thank you Mistress. No matter what happens tonight, I think I've already been given a precious gift. I've just had it for a little while now.

*soft sappy smile*

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. :)

Turning a Corner

We quarreled again. And again, and again. And then he gave me a present. It was a porn movie. It occurs to me now that perhaps most women would not go all melty upon being given a porn movie, especially as a making-up-after-fighting gift. But for me, it was PERFECT.

We'd shot some video one night that had been screwed up because I forgot to turn the microphone on. He took that footage and turned it into a hilarious silent movie, complete with old-timey film effects and music. When he showed it to me I laughed my ass off the whole way through. Which I think was all he really cared about, making me laugh, but the gift was so much more too. And the more I thought about it the more perfect it was.

There are so many layers to it. On the most obvious level it reminded me of everything good about our relationship. All the laughter and silliness we've shared, the oh-so-delicious sexy play times, the way we've worked as a team. It told me like nothing else could that he wants to be my slave, that he wants just as badly as I do to get back to our "normal" life of perversion and pornmaking.

On an even deeper level it spoke to my Mistressly pride, which has been rather bruised lately. I know how many hours he spent working on it, and knowing how much actual work he would put into this gesture tells me that I can still count on him, even when it takes real effort. Beyond that he had to learn a new skill (video editing) to do it. Which tells me he's still willing to push past his boundaries, get out of his comfort zone and learn new things for me. These things are vital for the health of our Mistress/slave dynamic. I love him...adore him...and would want to be his friend and lover whether he were my 'slave' or not. But if we are to call this slavery then it has to mean something. I have to feel that he IS going to do his best to obey me, to give me what I want, no matter what I ask for. This demonstration that he's willing to work hard & learn new skills is exactly the proof my wounded heart was longing for.

There are other facets to it as well. I'll be able to use the video as the required monthly update on my clips4sale sites, so it spares me the work and worry of coming up with something myself. In this regard it's a seriously useful gift. I'll have a happy glow all month thinking of how I don't have to do that work thanks to him. And I have loved seeing his delight in not only learning something new, but in feeling like he's good at it. These past months of near-unemployment, being utterly broke and feeling unable to even help with the DIY work, have taken a toll on my pet's self-esteem. It makes my heart sing to see him sparked with gleeful optimism for a change.

I could probably go on all day about how many ways this porn-present delights me. But I have to get back to work; the long haul of turning sandpit manor into a lovely little home(cage) for my pet is not finished and the deadline is looming. But I think we've turned a corner now and for the first time in weeks I am looking toward the end with a heart full of hope instead of despair.

Happy Birthdayversary (tia's thoughts)

It was without a doubt, the most beautiful BDSM 'scene' I have ever been part of.

I hate to even call it a 'scene', as to me it implies a sense of play-acting and fantasy that doesn't do justice to my relationship with my wonderful Mistress. And while Mistress did role-play a bit with me, to me it was all about submission to her body and soul, and of absolute trust. No acting or role-playing on my part was necessary.

I awoke rather groggily after only probably getting 3 hours of sleep or so to find my Mistress's face in front of mine and a plastic knife to my throat warning me to do as I was told and I wouldn't be hurt. Was I still asleep? Was I dreaming? I was blindfolded, gagged and my hands bound behind my back before I fully knew what was going on, taken outside wearing nothing but a sissy tshirt and frilly ruffled panties...omg Im outside!

I was pushed into what I thought was the trunk of Mistress's car at first before figuring out that it was alot roomier than a trunk, that I must be in the back of my own minivan.

And then the van started to move, increasing the 'holy shit' factor a hundredfold. Where were we going? What time was it? What am I in for?

The car ride seemed to take a long, long time, mostly in silence and the slight pain discomfort from my hands being bound so tightly behind me. I had no idea where we were...so many turns, different road surfaces. I remember thinking we were on a gravel-lined country road at some point because of the way the road sounded and how it the vibration of the car floor felt.

Was this all a massive headfuck? Would I be marched back inside my own house?

I didn't put anything past my Mistress. Had she made arrangements to take me by force to some clinic to receive a very humiliating laser hair removal treatment?
Yes, it was the middle of the night (presumably) but I was still very groggy and disoriented, and, after all, last year for my birthday I had been bound and my ears pierced as a mark of my permanent feminization and enslavement to her. So I wouldnt put anything past this Woman!

Was I to be used and abused somewhere by both Mistress and her husband? (I had thought him in the car with Mistress, and I now shyly confess to being a little disappointed to later discover that he wasnt)

OR...well...for a while now Mistress had been teasing me about finding me a 'boyfriend' or a 'Master' and my wild subbie imaginings wondered if she had really gone and done it: found some strange man on alt com or somewhere and I was about to experience perhaps more forced-bi fantasy than I was actually ready for? The old 'Be careful what you wish for..' saying whispered in my head, sending delicious shivers up and down my spine.

The car stops and we sit there in silence for a bit. Then the rear door opens and I'm helped out of the van (omg I'm outside AGAIN!) and up a few stairs and...and...I guessed where we were at from the short little stairs. Sandpit Manor, my future home.

I'm still kind of disoriented and confused however, as I still don't know what all she has in mind, and where the heck is Mistress's brother? I didn't think he had moved out yet and left the place vacant.

Mistress has written a better account of our night here and it would be foolish of me to try to recount it all over again to our readers, because I know I cannot do a better job.

But I just want to share my thoughts/feelings on it...so much of our play is internalized to me. I kind of bliss out into subspace and let go, and that's exactly what happened. I was used and fucked in so many ways, so many positions, being taken over and over by Mistress and her strap-ons, or being allowed to lick and worship her pussy, or having gizmo (the dildo face harness) strapped to my face and used in such a humiliating and frustrating fashion.

I lost all track of time...I was taken from my sleep, so I was groggy from that, then blindfolded for a long period of time and so deep in subspace that I didn't know if it was day or night or how long I had been kept prisoner and used as a fucktoy over and over and over...my world became one of pure physical sensation, and I drowned in the sensations of it, feeling like I had been reduced to just a sexual animal to be used for my Mistress's pleasure, and that I existed only for that wonderful purpose of pleasing her. My own selfish gratification didn't even enter into it.

And it was....so hot and raw and primal, but...so beautiful at the same time. What I found so beautiful was how well she knows me, and how well she can read me that words were unnecessary even if I had not been gagged. She knew, for instance, when my legs couldn't take a position anymore and I had to move or shift weight. She knew when I was thirsty and had me drink without me saying a word or begging for it. A Mistress and her devoted slave in perfect harmony with each other.

I get a little teary from the joy of it just thinking about it.

I was/am so touched by how much thought, effort and planning was put into it. Every little detail, from my allergy pills to remembering my favorite brand of beer and how I like my BBQ. How much effort she put into providing me with one of the best kinky and hedonistic experiences of my life as a birthday present.

It takes my breath away...

Someone watching us might have only seen the surface details: a hot and actually kind of rough rape/kidnapping scenario but deep down in my heart I knew the truth of it: that this was an act of pure love.

I have never felt so loved, or so owned in my entire life.

Thank you Mistress. I love you more than words can say.

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.

Happy Birthdayversary! (prelude)

First I guess I need to give y'all a little bit of backstory. Tia's birthday is on February 6th. And the first year we were together I put my collar on him on Feb. 4th. I meant it to be a birthday gift that year but he was traveling out of town that weekend for his brother's wedding. I didn't seriously think he was liable to meet some other dom and slip out of my clutches while he was away, but I wanted to mark him as MINE before I let him go anyway. So what with it being his birthday...and one of our anniversaries...and with Valentine's Day so close...well, it does tend to turn out to be a major event on our holiday calendar.

This year's a little different. We're even broker than usual; so broke that tia's having to move to a more economical place to live. We won't have our playroom anymore and truthfully the place he's moving to is kind of a dump. I know, because I'm the landlord. :p

(The reasons why Izzy & I happen to be in possession of a crappy old mobile home which will henceforth be referred to as Sandpit Manor are another story.)

Anyway, I wanted to do something REALLY special for this year's birthdayversary celebration. And I also wanted to somehow inject some joy into this move. There was this scheme I'd had in the back of my mind for a long, long time, and as soon as I knew for sure that he was moving into Sandpit Manor it occurred to me that NOW was the time for it. The following was written the evening of February 4th, 2012, as I prepared to put my long-anticipated plot into action...

---

Tonight’s the night.

I can’t remember when I first conceived this idea. I’ve certainly been holding it in the back of my mind for a long, long time. Waiting for the right moment. And this is SO the right moment.

You will surely want me to write about this weekend after it’s done*. (Assuming it all goes well of course. Which is something I’m not at all certain about.) And I will try to, I must try to. But I also thought it would be nice to record some of my thoughts beforehand. I’m bursting with excitement, walking around the house cackling and grinning to myself, and worse, I can’t talk to anybody about it. I can’t say anything in front of the kids…can’t tweet or post or you’ll see…my sense of decorum prohibits me divulging the juicy details to anyone but Izzy…and my sense of emo-avoidance prohibits me from going on and on about it to Izzy.

But omg this is…I guess this is a dream come true for me. I think (fear?) that I may enjoy it more than you do. I so want it to be incredible for you, leave you feeling swept away, captured, caged in a box where all the walls have my evil smile. And used, gloriously, hedonistically, in every possible way and then some used. I want this weekend to be so incredible that you will actually feel nostalgic about the graffiti’d walls and rotting paneling when they go.

I want your first experience in your new home to be once in a lifetime. In a good way.

I can’t remember when the idea first came to me. But I knew as soon as we committed to this move that NOW was the time. Now was the time for so many reasons: it’s dead cheap, which is a necessity for us right now. Sandpit Manor is in crappy shape, literally looking like a crackhouse – kind of perfect for the scene. And like I said, I desperately want to give you a good first impression.

(I know we’re working with a specialized definition of a good first impression here.)

And to make it all even better, it’s something I’m really really excited about doing. So excited that I suspect thinking about it has brought on my current ‘horny spell’! It’s like…it’s like this is the closest I’ve ever come to capturing the feelings aroused by my masturbatory fantasies. Like this is the closest I’ve ever come to having that kind of control. I don’t know if these are the right words; these feelings seem so fresh and new, I can’t really articulate what’s inside. (And ok, it doesn’t help that I’m trying to write this with major kiddus interruptus happening.)

I’ve been plotting with Izzy almost since it occurred to me that now was the time. And I’ve been scampering around like a madwoman today making my preparations. You, who are forever wishing that I was more Machiavellian, would be (will be!) delighted I think. I thought a lot about how best to bind you: quickly, but it needs to be something that feels serious. I hope the vet wrap does the trick. And it was a nice bonus that we already had some in the toy chest.

I consulted Izzy about using a weapon during the grab. He strongly advised me against using a real gun, even unloaded, just in case the authorities get involved inadvertently. And he didn’t want me borrowing any of his pretty bladed things; a sentiment I can’t disagree with knowing my own physical limitations. The thought of accidentally harming you is more than enough to make me forgo anything with a truly sharp edge. But I did buy a toy knife, and a toy gun. I don’t know which of them will have a more convincing feel but I’ve been having real interesting thoughts about both in the context of penetration play. *grin*

I also spent an hour today picking out different outfits to dress my pretty slave in. I only chose one “dominatrix” ensemble for myself. I want my chance to play dress-up too but I don’t want to spend the whole weekend that way! I will go for Mistressly comfort and delight in making you wear uncomfortably sexy things for me. I don’t intend to tell you this until the last possible minute but I packed some boy clothes for you too; I don’t really mean to make you go outside dressed in the extremely slutty garb I’ve selected for you to wear. And I packed some comic books for you, and a pack of your allergy medicine.

I also made a trip to the liquor store and got, among other things, a 6-pack of Killian’s Red. I think one of my most brilliant notions was the idea of feeding you bbq and beer…in a dog dish. *wickedgrin*

I guess I don’t need to note every single detail of my plans. You’ll be discovering them all in the flesh beginning in just a few hours. I just wanted to say a little bit about my scheming, and how much fun I’ve been having in the doing of it

---

* And I was right. Tia started pestering me to write an account of the experience as soon as I let him up for air. :p

Stay tuned for all the juicy details!

How We Met

Neither of us actually remembers for sure who wrote the other first on Alt Com. I think it was probably me, trying to promote my Suncoast Shemale Salon group.

I do remember telling tia that I was married, and emphatically NOT looking for a sissy slave. (In fact I was seeking a humiliation/pain slut.) But he made me laugh by responding with this bit of smart assery, and I quote: "Are you sure Mistress? I come with a set of Ginsu knives and a Sham-wow."

Now who could resist an offer like that? *grin*

It was enough to make me give him my email address, and the conversation which continued over the next few weeks was equally entertaining. Then there was this party.

I'd been going around by myself and (more often) with my sister Mistress Candice and her girl emma for months, sampling as many different munches and play parties as I could manage. During this time I got to see Candice and emma's Mistress/slave relationship blossoming. And of course I got to see (and sometimes participate in) numerous examples of their incredibly hot play.

I was, frankly, envious.

I'd been seeking my own personal subbie in an on-again-off-again way. (Being already married with children tends to put a damper on one's dating life.) I'd had a few brief D/s relationships that didn't work out. And I was sick and tired of going to parties & clubs, maybe giving some random stranger a spanking, and always envying my friends the beautiful thing they had. So when I committed to going to yet another play party that December I decided that at least this time I was, by god, going to bring a date.

I was pursuing maybe-things with several guys I'd met at the time. And tia was NOT at the top of my list. But I figured he was a safe choice; we were already becoming friends and I felt confident that I'd at least be comfortable with him even if there was no spark. The party was in Orlando you see, a 2 hour drive away, and that meant it'd be a looooong, painful evening if my date turned out to be a schmuck.

The party was two days after Christmas. And no way was I going to drive to Orlando with someone I'd never yet met in person, so we arranged the obligatory meeting-in-a-public-place on December 26th. (Lunch at a local diner.) Lunch was pleasant, I found tia sorta cute, very awkward, and utterly unthreatening, so the party date was on.

Our time AT the party was, for me, not very memorable. I dressed him and we played a little; it was probably much more exciting for him than it was for me. The thing I recall best was being dissatisfied with any of the skirts he owned at the time and deciding to make him something myself out of the collection of scarves that constitute my "bondage kit".

It's the drive that sticks in my head. It was during those hours in the car that I realized how VERY comfortable I felt with tia. How much we had in common that had nothing to do with kink. How I felt like I could be completely myself with him, in all my neurotic complexity.

It made me want to spend more time with him. A LOT more time. And it was just about six weeks later that I put my collar on him.

We're going on over two years now, which I understand is rather a long time for a 24/7 Mistress/slave relationship to last. It has not been easy, not at all. But it's sure been interesting. And I look forward to many more interesting years to come.

I love you puppy.

p.s. Tia made good on the Sham-wow and the Ginsu knives too! But that's a story for another time.