Alexia

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AlexiaThe secret sissy in question claimed to be a young, successful man,heading his own department at work and living the good life. But heyearned for his teen years, where he would passably dress up and meet menoff the internet. He wanted to be completely broken and feminized to thepoint of no return.Here is what I had to say, and after writing the little scenario at theend I thought it might be a good enough start for my first posting tothis site.Without further ado:Hey there- this is a long message but consider it your first test.I see you’ve posted your request under t4m, which reflects your naïvety.Now I’m sure in your fantasies, some strong determined guy turns you intohis perfect pet. You want what’s in those captions and sissy vids thatthousands of other “armchair” sissies beat off to. And maybe you’vegotten some responses that offer such.Unfortunately, it’s just that – a fantasy. In reality, most men are illequipped for such an undertaking. They may currently desire such aproject, but over the time required (many months) they will loseinterest. Rome may have been destroyed in a day, but breaking a sissy isas much about rebuilding as it is about tearing down. (And there willstill be a LOT of tearing down.)In short, most men (on Craigslist especially) both dominant ANDsubmissive, lack the dedication for such an undertaking.I propose, if you were truly serious about being Owned, knocked from yoursocial standing, to be eventually ridiculed by your peers who might haveonce respected you, slowly but inevitably forced to be a silly,ridiculous little sissy slut dependent on hard cocks, you would need tobe properly broken and trained first. After all, no one will invite a bitch in that isn’t house trained, right?Once I’ve taken the time to break and rebuild you, then you will be readyto find a permanent, full-time Owner.You say you were passable- great, it is a starting point. There will be astrict regiment of skin care and dieting of course, and eventually somehormones and laser will be required. BUT I have no interest in creating just another hot little trap. If youreally want to be molded into MY perfect gurl, it would be as an over thetop sissy, a mixture of bimbo slut and mincing drag queen that will drawa bit of lust from a certain crowd, but mainly just stares and laughter-even in a “progressive” place like the Bay Area.That may not be what you want. Perhaps you’d like to just secretly sucksome anonymous cock before meeting your friends for drinks, or wear somesexy lingerie under an expensive suit while bossing around yoursecretary, maybe even play around with some light public humiliation in afar away town so you can rub off to the shameful memory safe at home. Ifthat’s all you want, have fun carrying on with your little naughty games,but be more honest in your future ads so that you don’t waste anyonestime.You can’t TRULY break someone without pushing them past their hardlimits, to force them to give up control and obey even if it doesn’t fitinto their scripted fantasy world. Don’t you agree? Do you REALLY want tobe BROKEN and rebuilt into something your own horrified Mother wouldn’trecognize? Or are you just a wannabe that likes to play “sissy pretend”?Rest assured though, there is a gulf between here and there and you willbe progressively eased into Sissy Hell slowly. And hey, it probably won’tbe forever. After you’re properly transformed to my satisfaction you’llhave no trouble finding a permanent Owner (And you will need one, assissies can’t direct anything except a cock to one of their openings).Perhaps he will take some pity and allow you to “tone it down” enough forhim to take you out in public with some dignity. Then you can be the sexylittle passable slut you want to be when you wank.But before then, we’ll see how serious you are about public humiliationand being “broken”.About me – I’m a tall slender tgirl in my late 20s, so I know a fewthings about what makes gurls like you tick. bursa escort I’m local to SF but to beclear, I’m busy with my own career and in a happy lesbian relationship.Any “cams” will be one way and not frequent, and there won’t be any one-on-one meetups for quite awhile, if ever- but maybe eventually I’ll sendyou somewhere to humiliate yourself and I’ll be one of the many laughingin the crowd, or maybe we will finally meet at your collaring ceremony,as you kneel before a stud, holding your hair up as he closes and fastensthe titanium band ;)Communication will mainly be through chat, email and text – mostlyeveryday as I will set aside some time. Though it is remote, my control will be enforced through simpleconsensual blackmail. I do not like having my time wasted. I will showsome good faith by having a quick chat first so I may get to know youbetter, but after that further contact will require you to provideincriminating photos and video of yourself, along with contact info forfriends, family and colleagues. This information will be discreetlyverified before continuing.This threat will keep you focused during the initial training period,enough to ease you into your new slippery slope of a lifestyle. Soonerrather than later, chastity will be enforced as well. I know how easilymost devices can be defeated and options will be discussed to make itmore secure. The real training begins when your lust pushes you to dothings you couldn’t imagine ever REALLY doing. “…And in front of allthose people, like, oh my gawd!”Depending on how well your training progresses, the occasional releasemay be granted as a reward.In an endeavor such as this there has to be an element of trust. I dopromise that I won’t force you to do anything i*****l or put you in realdanger, extort you, or push you “out of the closet” too soon or(immediately) jeopardize your job. (I also DO NOT charge for thistraining service as MY kink is knocking masked male pretenders likeyourself down quite a few pegs.) Outside of that, there will beconsequences for disobedience.It DOES however require a leap of faith on your part to provide theinformation, with the knowledge that I WILL use it if you decide toterminate our agreement prematurely or refuse an assignment, which isbasically the same thing. You will of course be paying for your ownfeminization and your finances, budget and living situation will be atopic of our initial discussion. Once we’ve begun there will be nosecrets from me- all information I ask for will be provided.Think about what you really want before continuing; if I’m going to be init for the long haul, you will be as well, even if you have to be draggedkicking and screaming out of the closet. As a reminder during thosemoments of weakness, I will show you the video you recorded for me at thebeginning that just BEGS me to ignore your silly protests, that I knowwhat you need and I’m helping you bring out the little slut you know youHAVE to be. After all, you posted this ad, didn’t you? You didn’t lie toeveryone and worse, yourself, about what you really wanted, did you?And you will trust in me to be strong enough for the both of us, evendown the line, after you’ve superficially changed your mind and regretyour decision and you frantically BEG me to stop it all, to let you goback to being “normal”. I will let you plead as it amuses me, but youwill learn to know when it’s time to stop and thank me for ”allowingyou” to be so pathetic before you go out the door to live yournightmarishly sissy existence.As you struggle to mince in your strappy high heels down the busy street,each step a cascading rustle of nylons on petticoats, limp wriststrembling in humiliation and your cheeks burning red but barely visibleunder your makeup as some group of giggling teen girls, barely able tocontain themselves, puts you on Instagram (#omg #wtf #sissy!). You try increasing your pace to hurry away from them but only succeed inadding a stumble to bursa escort bayan your step that causes your bubble butt, short fussydress and jeweled butt plug to bounce even more, which further ring thetiny bells sewn strategically around your hemline, drawing even moreattention to the ridiculous sight you present.A bobby pin falls loose and a pink curl falls into your eyes. Despite thesmall crowd of tourists that stand around to snap your picture you stop,grabbing another pin from your purse to fix the stray. Then out comes themini bottle of hairspray. The crisis averted, you’re on your way againwhen a teenager skating by makes a nasty remark that cuts to your core.As you never know when I will text and require an immediate selfieproving that your makeup is appropriately garish BUT still done to over-perfection, you flap a hand in front of your face, fanning your eyes todry the tears that begin to form so that you don’t ruin your mascara….The mascara you bought at Sephora, along with the rest of your makeup,that you had to ask the smirking salesgirl to apply for you. She shookher head, suppressing giggles under professional decorum as, your girlyvoice faltering, you ask her to really slather it on because that’s “howyour boyfriend likes it.”…It’s the same expression the girl at the nail salon had while sheapplied the bright pink color you requested to your long acrylic nailextensions while the other patrons in sweats and jeans laughed behindtheir magazines.Back in the present, you’re in this state of self-pity and sissyconfusion when you almost bump into a couple. She is a beautiful, sharplydressed woman in comfortable ballet flats, about your age, her tastefullymade up face twisted in revulsion as she slowly looks you up and down,lingering over every overdone and ridiculous detail. The handsome,masculine guy on her arm shares her expression, but thanks to yourtraining you immediately notice the growing bulge in his tailoredsuitpants. You subconsciously salivate and bite your painted lips to stopa lustful moan from emanating. Your head submissively downcast, youglance up to see them quicken their pace around you, loathing meltinginto amusement as she hugs his bulky arm tighter, thankful to be with aReal Man.He looks familiar somehow- maybe you worked together at the office once,long ago? Or maybe you’re just reminded of who you used to be- someonethat had Privilege and Power, who could have had a pretty girlfriend anda successful career like him. Watching a pair of girls walk by you whoshare a glance together and simultaneously burst out laughing, power iscertainly a distant memory.How could you DO this to YOURSELF? What have you DONE?And then instantly every fiber of your being glows white hot and you hateevery moment of it, every little sensation; The ridiculous ultra-femininemannerisms that have become second nature. The strain on your archedfeet, the tight corset limiting you to shallow breaths, the weight ofyour prissy, colored, dated hairstyle, the breeze tickling your exposedthighs, and the tight, short, frilly and LOUD dress that no real girlwould ever be caught dead in. You’ve shackled your body in the instruments that real men have used tosubdue women throughout history.Some buried, genetic masculine pride tries to boil its way to the surfaceto save the hopeless sissy it’s attached to. In mortified shame, suddenlyhyper aware of your appearance you quickly mince into a quiet sidestreet, hyperventilating in the restricting corset as it all comescrashing down on you; the total and utter humiliation that you USED to berespected. You USED to be able to walk down the street and make eyecontact with a pretty girl who might smile back, not laugh in your faceor scoff in disgust.You need to tear it all off! You ineffectually grab at your dress’s tinypearl buttons, pull at the lace and ribbon embellishments, but your longnails and frantic movements make the slippery material slide through yourclumsy escort bursa fingers. You moan in agony and stamp your dainty shoes in sissyfrustration, which causes the slender heel to slip on a crack in thepavement. You lose your balance and stumble awkwardly to your knees, yourother heel catching a loop of lace on the back of your skirt, preventingyou from readily getting back up. You almost break down sobbing as yourock back and struggle to untangle yourself, hampered by your ludicrousnails and fully laced corset, the rustle of petticoats, bells and jewelryalmost deafening.NO! This CAN’T be real, this CAN’T be your life!You suddenly fold over at the waist in pain, clutching your stomach. Andthen you’re reminded that of all the things you hate, of all the dailyembarrassments and degradation you suffer through, you’re especiallyashamed of just how damned HARD it makes you. All throughout your hissyfit tantrum, your sissy clit has been straining in your tiny, tight metalcock cage- a constant reminder that your fetishes and perversions wereyour downfall. If only you were born NORMAL, right?And with out so much as a touch, that thought alone causes months worthof sissy juice to flood your frilly silk panties while you groan in pain,your whole body spasming with spurt after spurt. There’s no pleasure, butthere’s just the smallest relief of pressure. After the gushing finallystops your breathing slows, and with trembling hands, your training takesover. Finally untangled you straighten to your knees, and with one handholding up your hem, pinkies out of course, the other reaches down,scooping the gooey cream from your panties to bring hesitantly butdeliberately to your lips.You do NOT ”eat cum”. You savor it, slowly teasing it with your tonguefrom each finger. In between nibbles and sucks, forcing a tear soakedsmile, you repeat the ”cleaning” mantra you learned back when you wereallowed the occasional orgasm- ”I am a silly semen sipping sissy. Myseed is worthless and must be kept away from real women. The only placemy cum deserves to go is into my own mouth.” You have to repeat it quitea few times before you’ve swallowed every nasty tiny, dainty sip. Evenafter all this time, the taste of yourself that you’re forced to consumestill disgusts you, and you struggle not to gag while appearing to trulylove it, because you never know when I might be watching. Any bit ofmasculine pride you may have had left dissolves with your spunk.With it mostly all back inside you where it belongs, the last bit ofslime gets patted on to your puffy lips to savor, so you’re reminded ofwhat you are every time you purse your lips in nervous submission- ahopeless little sissy cum guzzler.And then you realize, of course, no “normal”, REAL man would have turnedhimself into such a pathetic caricature of femininity. You can’t changewho you are, and unlike the rest of the world, you’re not hiding what youreally are. You shakily climb to your feet, straightening your dress andribbons before pulling the compact from your little purse to powder yournose and fix your face. In the reflection, you catch a glance of theperson in the second story window who has been recording your entireprissy meltdown and clean up ritual.Your cheeks burn anew, but despite the previous emission, you feel astirring in your cage. Sighing the dejected sigh of a sissy that hasreluctantly accepted herself, you strut back towards the main street,shoulders back, wrists limp and above the waist. You can already hearlaughter from somewhere in the crowd while you struggle to keep your headhigh, though your gaze drops nervously to your painted toes. Stillutterly humiliated, but with the realization you’re exactly where youbelong, through your tears your brightly colored, cum smeared lipsmanages to stretch into a small, shy smile.And THEN you’ll be reborn, and ready to find your new Owner.Alexia——And if you’re a youngish, cute closet sissy with the means and desire tobe broken this way and exposed to the world, feel free to drop me a lineat Alexia_Dark (at) yahoo (dot) com. Serious inquiries only- consider theabove a guideline for your application and remember what I require

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32