Sissy Plaything: Femdom Fiction

Sissy Plaything

I was in the middle of washing the dishes, as best I could with my wrists chained to my collar, when I received yet another electric shock from the device locked onto my cock and balls. Once again I had to drop what I was doing and rush, as fast as my hobbled ankles and 6 inch stiletto heels would let me, to see what my Mistresses wanted. Would they make me carry out some menial task just to laugh at my struggles to perform or did they have a more diabolical scheme in mind? Looking down at my outfit I marvelled at how quickly I had been turned into their sissified slave. So many humiliations and so many things hurting me!

I was still wincing from the metal rings they had inserted, just days before, in my ears, nose, nipples, penis and perineum. It was the first thing they did to me after I had woken up from the sedative they had given me. Of course they had already secured my arms and legs lightly and gagged me with a huge ball so I was forced to watch helplessly as my body was violated. And once they had locked my penis into the metal chastity and demonstrated the immense power of the shocking mechanism I agreed readily to do anything they told me without a second’s hesitation. They had me crawling around on all fours, kissing their high heeled boots and begging like a dog just to avoid another shock. After a short intense training session they had attached a small chain from the chastity device to the ring behind my scrotum, dragging my poor penis back painfully and holding it in place.

Now as I shuffled along the long hallway, every slight movement announced my position. Not only the rattling from the metal chains attached to my shackles but also high pitched ringing from the various bells that had been attached to the rings underneath my skirt. These were swinging wildly to and fro causing me even more pain and embarrassment. My movement was hampered still further by the large dildo they had inserted in my bottom, to which my anal ring was still trying to acclimatise.

I could feel the weight of the large fake breasts glued to my chest and held in place by the frilly pink bra they had put on me. This they had matched with a matching suspender belt and tan nylon stockings.The corset they put on me was pulled in as tight as they could manage, while they instructed me to hold my breath, and felt like it was cutting me in two.

And following all these indignities they had zipped me into an ultra-feminine pink frilly dress with puff sleeves and lots of ribbons and then forced on tulle underskirts that made the skirt of my dress project outwards almost horizontally.They had taken great delight in explaining that they were padlocking me into the dress through rings at the top of the zip and that only they had the power to release me.

Not that removing these clothes would have done me much good even if that were possible. I had discovered, after they had finished piercing me, that they had carried out some bodily modifications while I was under the sedative. After they had locked a collar around my neck and attached a leash they led me, still on hands and knees, to a full length mirror where they gleefully demonstrated all the changes they had made: eyebrows removed and high arched eyebrows tattooed on, similarly with dark eyeliner, thick eyelash extensions, eyelids dyed in shades of pink and purple, bright red cheeks and lips plumped up and dyed bright pink.

Looking down at my hands I could see that long pink acrylic nails were now glued on tightly to my fingernails. They told me these changes were permanent and they would follow these up, in due course, with breast implants and an intense female hormone programme. Any insubordination on my part would be met, apart from severe physical chastisement, with the hormone course being doubled. I quickly learned to consume anything they gave me, meekly putting out my tongue so they could place a tablet on it.

Despite all of the modifications they had insisted on me wearing full make-up at all times, with foundation and powder, extra eyeshadow, mascara and lip gloss so that I could feel the weight of the cosmetics that were emphasising my sissy status. With my hair fashioned into a pageboy style and dyed blonde and after a liberal spraying with perfume, I was trapped as their bizarre feminised plaything with no possibility of escape.

by slave maid Sharon