An Afternoon of Sissy Sexual Service: Femdom Fiction

An Afternoon of Sissy Sexual Service: Femdom Fiction

His tongue glided over the sleek PVC corset, seeking out every inch in abject worship. He worked it slowly up to the magnificent contours of his Owner’s breasts, and felt again a renewed tingle in his ramrod erect cock. This was the moment he had anticipated hungrily all week as his tongue climbed her breasts, seeking out the summit of her nipples under the pvc, and then descending into the sheer bliss of her cleavage.

‘Move back you Bitch,’ she hissed.

Momentarily nonplussed he did as he was told, reluctantly breaking the rapture which had enveloped him. He sat back on his haunches, adjusting and straightening his pink maid’s sissy dress. Earlier upon meeting his Owner, she had stripped him of his suit, and in so doing had stripped his mind of any modicum of what passed as conventionality.

She had dressed him in the pink maid’s outfit with sexy stockings. After applying make up, and poppers, she had trussed him in front of a full length mirror like a mannequin, so he could see the slut he had become. And what a tart he was, she told him, as she stood behind him and reached under his dress and teasingly started stroking his cock. As his moans increased and she sensed the coming explosion, she released her hold.

‘Now worship me you whore,’ she commanded.

He had lap danced and licked her arse and sucked her strap on with gusto. Now he perched before her and he reflected that this was his true self, the only reality he sought. He watched in amazement as her hand moved to the top of the corset and stared undoing the buttons.  Her tits, eager for release, popped out. His hand reflexively reached for his cock.

‘Stop it. Only when I give you permission. Now come here and worship these tits,’ she ordered.

Aware of his own limitations in the face of such magnificence, he moved his mouth over her breasts and started licking, working up to her erect nipples, licking and sucking them like there was no tomorrow. As he did so his cock sought out her PVC leg and started gyrating against it. As the movement gained more rhythm he looked to her for assent.

‘Yes, slut,’ she purred.

His tongue and mouth matched the rhythm of his cock in a frenzy of worship. The moment of release, when it came, was the essence of his being, the culmination of all he was worth. He hadn’t masturbated for four days and his cum was considerable.

‘Now whore, clean that boot and sate your own thirst,’ she instructed.

His tongue sought out that familiar salty tang, as he commenced the cleanup.

by slut penny