Saturday, April 8, 2017

Swiss Miss Sissy, Chapter 37

This is the last chapter of Swiss Miss Sissy.  

That is to say, this is the last finished chapter and I'm afraid that it's likely to be the last chapter for some time.  Now that I know Bambi is just busy and not dead, I have a little more hope that Swiss Miss Sissy might be completed someday, but all signs point to it being a long wait.  I hope readers will find this chapter, as I do, a reasonably satisfying place to leave the characters for now.  There are still plot threads left unresolved, but at least there's no big, exasperating cliffhanger.  It's worth noting that this continuation is currently over five times longer than the story Bea originally began.  I'll bet Bea never dreamed his story might eventually be expanded into something novel-length.  I'd say Bambi has earned the right to take as long as he needs to with his writing process and is to be complimented on doing a really bang up job with this story.

by Bambi

Chapter 37: An unexpected party. Cheryl gets to celebrate a special someone’s birthday.

“What took you so long?” Mistress asked sternly.

“Sorry Mutter. Brigitt had made things... difficult.” I heard Martina say. Brigitt drew a face like she had just bit in a lemon.

“Difficult? What does that mean? Wait, don't answer that. I'll talk to Brigitt myself later. Is Cheryl all right?”

“Oh, she is. A bit intimidated, as she should be. But it allowed us to doll her up a bit.”

Ingrid chuckled. “Oh, I'll bet.”

“Ingrid...” Mistress admonished. “Well, where is she?”

“Cheryl, come in dear,” Martina called.

“Showtime,” Brigitt whispered behind me.

I straightened my back, pushed my breasts forward, puckered my lips, put my elbows in my sides and glanced at Brigitt.

She gave me a smile and opened the door for me. With tiny steps I minced into the room. My towering 5 inch heels gently tapped on the carpet as I stepped up to Mistress. My skirt ruffled as I excessively wiggled my hips with each step.

Mistress was sitting in her plush chair. She was wearing a dark blue suit with a loose skirt that fell over her knees, but with a high split at a side that allowed me a quick view of her fabulous thighs. Her jacket had white trimming, that complemented  her beige blouse. She was wearing two distinguished black pumps with moderate heels.

Her appearance was stern, but she couldn't hide the smile that grew on her face as she saw me.

I took my position in front of her so she could get a good look of my outfit. It was reminiscent of a teen's outfit. Separate skirt and pink blouse, but clearly intended for a sissy. My white skirt was not excessively short, but definitely not suitable for a sixteen-year-old. Lace of my panties peeked out from below my petticoats.

My blouse was a cut almost down to my navel, so my boobs peeked out prominently, with mostly just the white bra covering them. Even my white waist corset was visible. Blouse was closed at my tummy, with a broad ribbon tied in a small bow in front, and a large bow on my back. The bra and corset were made from shiny but very uncomfortable leather, I might add. The blouse has short sleeves, but was very puffy at the shoulders. Gloves in the same colour covered everything from the elbow down. Bright white stockings covered my legs, and on my feet were in white patent leather Mary Janes with horrible 5 inch stilettos and ornamental leather bows on top.

Martina had changed my hairdo, since she thought that my maid's haircut was unsuited for this outfit. She had untied and retied my hair, painfully using a brush to break the shapes previously achieved with the lacquer. She had tied it in a puffy ponytail, with curly bangs falling down at the front and sides of my face. With a herculean effort, she had given me a girl’s hairdo that complemented my current 'little sister' appearance. A big pink bow kept my ponytail together. I also wore some subtle jewelry. A bracelet around my right wrist, a chain with zirconia around my left ankle, and a loose shiny necklace around my neck, with a pendant that said 'sissy slave'.   

Glee radiated from Mistress' face. She was clearly very happy with my appearance. Still, she is a Mistress and I'm a sissy, so she hid it with a stern expression. Waiting for me to show the proper gestures of respect.

I did not bob a curtsey. It was expected, I know, but Brigitt and Martina had decided something else was appropriate. Mistress raised her eyebrow in surprise.

“Pretty little sissy...” I started to sing.

Ingrid started to laugh, then clap to the rhythm of my heels. Brigitt and Martina fell in.

I pattered around in front of Mistress, turned my back to her and bent forward, giving her a good look at my panties. “Mincing all about...” I looked over my shoulder, winking at her.

“Here comes your Mistress...” I cupped my hand behind my ear, like I was listening to something.

“And makes you cry out loud...” My hands went to the sides of my cheeks as I put up a hilariously scared face.

“Out come two dildos...” I put my gloved finger against my lips.

“She puts one in your mouth...” I put my finger in, sucking it seductively, tasting the satin of my glove.

 “And when you are nice and quiet...” I lifted my skirt and turned around.

“She'll put one there down south.” I bent forward, showing that I was not wearing a plug right now. Accessible. Then I turned around again, straightened myself, then dropped a deep curtsey, not coming up.

I was looking at the floor, but from the edge of my vision I saw Mistress smiling. Her daughters were chattering in Italian.

She left me in that position, and I felt the strain of my awkward posture. “Stand up, Cheryl.”

I got up, but I didn't assume my regular posture, but a more elaborate and girly one. I was turned about forty-five degrees, so Mistress could see my appearance in profile. I was bent slightly forward, so my bottom pointed upwards while my boobs were aimed forward. My head was turned towards Mistress, lips slightly parted invitingly. It wasn't a relaxed stance, but one I could maintain for some time.

Mistress was silent for quite a while, but her smile never left her face.

“What is your name, dear?” She finally asked.

“My name is Cheryl Rosatunte, Mistress.”

“Not Charles?”

“No Mistress. Charles is a man's name. I'm not a man. I'm a sissy. I love wearing skirts and heels. I want to act completely feminine and submissive. A sissy needs to be fully controlled by a strict Mistress, whose every wish or command she must fulfill.”

I was laying it on thick, I know. But I do not know if it was my strong feelings for Mistress, the fact I still had no sexual release, or that I had just been softened up by hours of inescapable bondage, but right then I meant every single word of it.

Ingrid and Brigitt laughed. Martina chuckled as she whispered something to Madame Directrice. Mistress just smiled, but kept her face stern.

“Cheryl, Esther told us about your... Situation.” The tapped the armrest of her seat. “Quite the change, I must say.”

“Yes Mistress. But I'm very happy I did. I did not need all that male stuff. I just want to mince around in heels and cute dresses. Look all pretty for my Mistress, serve and please her in whatever way she wants.”

“Is that so?” She said, leaning forward, elbows on her knees, hands folded. “Don't you think you are being very selfish, young lady?”

That was a question I did not expect. “Mistress, I do not understand.”

“You changed your name, your whole life, to be my sissy. Not once did you ask me if this is what I would want. This is quite something for me too, my dear. Put a lot of pressure and responsibilities on me. Never wondered if I would not want that? Instead you just went ahead and did it, expecting me to take you in. Do you think that is reasonable? That it is fair?”

I was shocked. She was right! I had followed Madame Directrice's directions, but never did I stop to think if Mistress would go along with the plan. Was Madame Directrice wrong? Did Mistress... not love me? I turned pale.

“No Mistress... I am sorry... I just... I mean...” I could only say. “Please don't make me leave...”

She didn't say anything. Everyone else was silent too. Ingrid stared at her mother. Brigitt was looking at me, concern on her face. Madame Directrice's face was a blank. Fear went through me. I had difficulty keeping my pose.

“Ask me,” she finally said. “Ask your Mistress nicely to be her sissy. Ask me to dress you the most ridiculously frilly outfits, the highest heels. To fill you with plugs and dildos and whatever I can fit in your little hole. Ask me to humiliate, bind you and punish you whenever and where-ever I wish.” She pointed her finger at me. “And Cheryl, ask me as a proper sissy.”

I do not know how I managed, but my stance became even more submissive, more sissy like. I spoke in my most exquisite voice; feminine, but sounding like an air-headed idiot.

“Mistress Christina, please make me your sissy and make me dress in the most frilly outfits that make me weep with humiliation. Please put me in heels that I can barely walk in, that make me mince and patter for Mistress' pleasure. A good sissy loves the feeling of having her sissy hole filled, so please fill me with dildos and plugs to remind me I'm a pretty little sissy. And let me serve you, I'll be your maid, your plaything who you can humiliate and tie up as you please. And if I displease you in any way, I ask you to punish me severely so I can improve myself.” I would regret this, I thought. She would do things to me, things I would loathe, and here I was asking her for it. Begging her for it.

But I didn't care. I wanted her to be my Mistress. If that meant I had to be her submissive, ultra-feminine sissy, then so be it.

She looked me straight in the eyes. “Cheryl, I told you to ask me as a proper sissy.

I gulped. What did she mean by that? I was dressed as one. I had performed a humiliating song and dance. Curtsied. Asked in my most girly voice. What more did she want?

She smiled, then picked up a small box from the table next to her, put it on her lap. “Cheryl. Do you know what today is?” She asked.

I tried to think, but my mind was blank. “I... I do not know Mistress.”

“Why, today is a birthday. You know whose?”

I was stunned. It certainly wasn't Mistress’, and Brigitt's birthday was not for two more months. Martina's and Ingrid's were even later. I saw that Madame Directrice was smiling.

“Er... Madame Directrice's, Mistress?”

She chuckled. “No silly. Yours! Today is your birthday.” The other women smiled at me.

“Mistress? Today is not...” I started.

“Are you not Cheryl Rosatunte?” she asked sternly.

“I am, Mistress.”

“Then today is your birthday. Esther?” she said as she turned to Madame Directrice.

Madame Directrice took of her glasses as she started talking. “Cheryl, I didn't use Charles' birth date in your documentation. I kept the year, but changed the day and month. Those little details are important when creating a completely new person. Your birth certificate shows that you were born today, twenty years ago.” She smiled. “Today has always been your birthday. And you never even told us, you naughty girl. Why, I had to dig up your Swiss birth certificate just to find out!” 

The women laughed. I felt terribly confused, and that caused even more amusement.

Mistress opened the box, and took out an item. “You know what this is, Cheryl?”

I gulped. “It's my lollipop, Mistress.”

“Indeed. The very same one you took in your mouth the day you first came here. On my birthday. Such a great present you were.”

She put the box away, but pointed the dildo at me.

“On my birthday, I asked you to put it in your mouth, and with that I accepted you as my maid. Now today, on your birthday, I want you to ask me to put it inside your mouth. If you do, I will accept you as Cheryl Rosatunte, my sissy. Permanently. I will be a stern Mistress. Strict. I will put you in outfits that will make you cry with humiliation. I will spank you just to hear the musical clicking of your heels as you try to flee. I will use dildos that make you squeal in agony and delight. And when you can take no more, I will tie you up and do it all over again.” She smiled at me. It was a vicious smile.

I like to think I hesitated. That male pride shouted inside me not to continue, that there was still a way out. Here, now. Just say no.

“Mistress, would you please put my lollipop in my mouth. Please make me your sissy.”

“Come here, birthday girl. You know what to do.” She held up the dildo.

I minced four steps forward, until my mouth was right before the tip. I kept my sissy stance. Legs straight, torso bent forward slightly. Elbows at my sides, wrists limp. I puckered my red lips.

I stuck my tongue out and ran its tip gently along the underside. Next I closed my red lips and gave it a nice kiss. I opened my eyes. Mistress wouldn't want me missing anything. I gave it another kiss. I opened my mouth, so that I could suck on my lollipop. Mistress pushed it in a little further.

And, standing there in front of my Mistress, sucking on an obscene ivory penis, I realized that Ingrid was moving a video camera that I hadn't noticed before. Brigit was making flash photos. She said “Bet these will look great with her other pictures,” and everybody laughed mockingly.

Then the daughters all started singing and clapping to the tune of 'Happy Birthday'. “Zum geburstag viel gluck, Zum geburstag viel gluck, Zum geburstag liebe Cheryl, Zum geburstag......”

As I expected the dildo was being stuffed deeper and deeper into my mouth, and I had to correct my breathing accordingly. Mistress certainly made me work for it. The harder I sucked, the more she would pull it back out. But I was a sissy, so I knew to continue sucking it, cheeks moving in and out rapidly.

Mistress beamed at her daughters. “What a lovely obedient girl this little Miss Rosatunte. I say, I have never seen a sissy as cute and well behaved as her. What do you say girls, shall we make her a permanent part of our household? It is her birthday after all.”

“Absolutely, Mutter!” The girls chorused. “Make her yours. Then make her do anything you want.”

Still sucking on my lollipop, which she continued to hold, she pulled me forward, towards her chair. She got up, pulled me past her and onto the chair. My knees were on the cushion, heels pointing over the edge. My arms rested on the back of the seat.

Madame Directrice produced a pair of handcuffs, and in a quick movement snapped them shut around my wrists. 

“Hold this, use both hands” Mistress said, putting my cuffed hands up to the dildo. “Eyes front, Cheryl! No peeking. Don’t stop sucking though.” I nodded.

“Brigitt, help me with this...,” I heard Mistress say.

I heard the clinging of buckles. I knew what came next.

Mistress took position behind me. Ingrid repositioned the camera again, I was looking right as it. “Smile sissy,” she said. “Show the camera how happy you are.”

I smiled. Smiled when I felt Mistress pull down my panties and apply lubricant on my behind.

She reached around me grabbing my boobs, causing me to moan.

Surprised, Mistress pinched me in the nipple, which made me squeal.

“What is this?” She asked.

Brigitt smiled. “We replaced them with the ones Margot uses. You know, with the nipple clamps underneath? Her fake breasts are almost as sensitive as real ones.”

“I love them,” Mistress said as she tickled my nipples. I would have gasped if I didn't have a dildo in my mouth.

She kissed me on my neck. “Girls, I am happy to say that I decided to allow little miss Rosatunte to remain with us. I will look forward to seeing her cute ass mince around the villa.”

The other women cheered and applauded. Even Madame Directrice joined in.

“Now, shall I give the newest member of our merry little clan her first birthday present?”

The women cheered again. Mistress placed the tip of her strapon against my sissy-hole.

“Time make it official, my dear,” she whispered in my ear. She turned to her daughters. “Girls?”

They sang merrily in chorus, hands clapping “Pretty little sissy, was mincing all about.”

And Mistress entered me. It was big, but I had learned how to relax as filled me, took be from behind. I focused on sucking my lollipop.

“Here comes your Mistress, and makes you cry out loud.”

She started pumping, holding and teasing my delicate breasts through my bra.

“Out come two dildos, she puts one in your mouth.”

She forced me to move with her motions, still teasing my breasts. My clitty was already quite hard.

“Moan louder, sissy, let the camera know how much you are enjoying yourself,” I heard Ingrid say.

“And when you are nice and quiet,” the other women sang.

I felt my feet shake as Mistress pumped me. I felt her tongue in my ear, bite my neck. All of today's pent up sexual energy was about to find release.

“She'll put one there down south!” The women practically shouted. And with a deep thrust, Mistress made me come.

I came on my petticoats, and even on the chair. But no-one seemed to mind.

Mistress whispered in my ear. “You are mine, sissy. Now and forever.”

Tears filled my eyes. Out of happiness, lust or shame, I do not know. All of them, I suppose.

“Aww, sissy is getting all emotional.” Brigitt mocked. “Keep sucking! No idling.”

Madame Directrice handed something to Mistress.

“And here is your second birthday present, Cheryl,” Mistress said as she placed the collar around me.

“Get the mirror,” Mistress spoke as she withdrew from me. “You can take it out, my dear.” She took my lollipop from me.

Martina held up a mirror, showing me my reflection. I saw the familiar girl looking back at me. Her lipstick was smudged, her silly outfit ruffled, but then I noticed the metal collar.

It was a solid metal ring. The shiny metal felt cool against my skin. There were small D-rings along its circumference, and something that was probably a lock at my neck. But it was the ornament at my throat that drew my eyes. It was the shape of a shield, bright blue. On that surface was the constellation of Orion in silver. Mistress' family heraldry.

My fingers went up to the blue shield. She had marked me as hers. I wanted to laugh, weep.

“Wear it proudly, my sweet.” Mistress said.

“Yes Mistress, I will.” I answered softly as I stroked the small ornament. The other women burst into applause.


Of course, the evening didn't end then and there. The ladies made an informal party out of it, with me the guest of honour. Martina brought some snacks and several bottles of expensive liquor. Ingrid used a wet cloth to clean the chair. I turned red as a beet as she cleaned my clitty next, laughing. Brigitt made a careful selection from their music collection before turning on the stereo. I was not expected to do anything but relax, look pretty and be girly.

That wasn't difficult. Mistress had pulled me onto her lap and was kissing and fondling me, mostly teasing my newly sensitive breasts, but also my hole and clitty. She would allow me to get excited, but not find release, keeping me on edge again.

She was very gentle though, and my oohs, ahhs and calls of 'ooh, Mistress!' were very genuine. Mistress was sweet-talking to me, telling me I looked wonderful and that my performance was excellent. This made me blush, and I blushed even more when I told her at length how glad I was to be a sissy.

Every now and then, she would grab me by the neck and push my head down towards her strap-on, making me suck it again while she sipped her brandy. She had not taken it off since Brigitt had helped her into it, but I was glad that in the meantime she had it cleaned!

The other women were drinking and laughing while exchanging gossip in German. Occasionally Mistress joined in, but the ladies mostly ignored me in their chatter.

Of course, once in a while I would suddenly be the centre of attention, the three daughters grinning at me maliciously. The ladies would then make me sing “Pretty little sissy” again, or shout comments and criticism on my cocksucking technique. At one point Madame Directrice would tell some funny stories from Cheryl Rosatunte's colourful past. This caused some hilarity and the ladies to ask me what I was thinking at the time! That certainly confused me, as I wasn't the one who made up that history. Then again, I was Cheryl Rosatunte, and my current past seemed much more real now than my previous one. I just stammered something about not knowing what I was doing at the time.

“Don't worry Cheryl. We'll be telling you what to do from now on.” Ingrid said with a grin. “You just have to look good while doing it.”

I didn't know if the women were supposed to be working tomorrow, but quite a few drinks were being consumed. The ladies insisted I would join them.

“Thank you, Miss Martina, but may I have a soda instead? Brandy is a bit too strong for me.” I never was much of an alcohol drinker to begin with, and with all the weight I had lost I doubted I could cope with more than a glass or two.

“Nonsense. This is a party, and we can't let the guest of honour leave without at least getting her tipsy.”

“You can suck it from a dildo if that would make it more palatable,” Ingrid smirked.

“Don't tease our lovely little sissy, Ingrid” Mistress intervened. “But have a brandy, my dear. I insist. You cannot have a party without alcohol.”

And with that settled, Martina poured me a brandy. Mistress clinked my glass and had me sip my drink as her free hand went over me. Brandy is an acquired taste, very sharp, but I was quite enjoying it before I had finished my first glass. Martina smiled as she poured me another.

The conversation shifted towards the merits of various forms of bondage, ways to discipline wayward sissies, and what would humiliate them the most. My expert opinion was consulted several times.

“Margot showed me these,” Brigitt said, producing a pair of metal rings “They are perfect for Cheryl here. Much more handy that handcuffs. More fashionable too.”

“How so?” Madame Directrice asked.

“Mutter, may I borrow Cheryl for a moment? Thank you. Come here, girl.” I minced over to Brigitt, flush with a alcohol and anxiety.

“Hold out your hands, sissy. Very good. Now ladies, to open them you need a key, and then just close them around the wrists of our unfortunate damsel-in-distress.” Brigitt winked at me maliciously, then turned towards the others.

“Using them is very simple,” Brigitt told them. “They may look like ordinary cuffs, but see these decorations?” Brigitt made me extend hands so the other women could clearly see the bracelets around my writs.

“These are actually snap-locks. Push them against one another...” She held my wrists and pushed the cuffs against each other. I heard a click.

“...And they will snap shut, binding our little Cheryl here. Go ahead sissy, pull them apart.” She let go of my wrists, which were crossed in front of me. I tried to pull my arms apart, but the cuffs resisted. I pulled harder, but aside from hearing some metallic sounds, nothing happened.

“You do not need a key to open them, either. Just push both these two buttons on both cuffs.” She looked right at me. “Something quite impossible for our naughty little sissy to do herself.”

She used thumb and index finger of both hands to push the buttons. With another click, my wrists came loose.

“Seems that little Cheryl will have to be careful not to accidentally bind herself,” Ingrid mocked.

“Accidentally? I fear sissy here will start to chain herself up on purpose. Don't you know girls like her love that sort of thing?” Martina countered. They all laughed.

“Anyway,” Brigitt continued. “You see there are several such locks around their circumferences, and will fix in any orientation. For example...” She grabbed my arms and turned me around, causing me to give a startled shriek. She pulled my wrists behind me crosswise and snapped them together. Brigitt's audience mumbled in approval.

“But you could also connect them like this...” She pulled my wrists apart and then my arms parallel, clicking the undersides of the cuffs against one another. My arms were now locked behind me like in an armbinder.

“Or like this...” I resigned myself with Brigitt binding me again. This time with lower arms parallel, in opposite direction to one another, so my hands were halfway up my back.

“Or any way you want, really.” She finally said. 

Without bothering to untie me, she tugged my shoulders and twirled me around. I squealed as I lost my balance and tipped over, but Brigitt put her arm around my waist and pulled me against her.

“Applause for my lovely assistant, little miss Cheryl Rosatunte,” Brigitt said smiling as she pulled me upright. The other ladies clapped her hands and cheered.

She let go of me and said to me “Thank your audience, girl.”

Mistress observed me closely. I knew what was expected of me.

I bobbed a curtsey, which is very difficult with your arms tied behind you, let me assure you. “Thank you all for you kind applause. It was my pleasure to perform for you,” I said.

Mistress smiled. “You are very welcome, my dear. Come sit with me.” She patted her lap.

The party continued much as it had already.  With her daughters chatting amongst themselves, and Mistress fondling and caressing me. Still with my arms behind tied behind my back, though.

I was getting quite tipsy as Mistress fed me the last of my brandy. And I was not the only one. Mistress had some quite some herself, and for her the evening was coming to an end.

“Girls,” Mistress said, “It is late. Cheryl and I will be retiring for the night.”

“Just retiring?” Brigitt teased.

“Watch your tongue, my dear.” Her voice was authoritarian, but her smile spoke volumes. “Feel free to continue as long as you want though. Good night.”

“Good night Mutter,” Martina said, then giggled. “I hope you – ahem - sleep well, Cheryl.” Ingrid and Brigitt laughed, then wished us good night too.

I performed a curtsey for the ladies, the combination of alcohol, heels and bonds making it less than perfect. They found that very amusing.

“Looks like little miss Rosatunte is a bit tipsy. I bet she'll trip before she's up the stairs.” Ingrid gibed.

“She will most definitely not,” Mistress said sternly, to both me and Ingrid. She produced a leash. “Cheryl is a proper sissy, and she will not disgrace me with such clumsiness. Isn't that right, Cheryl?”

“Yes, Mistress,” I said with pride, straightening myself into a prim and proper posture. As much as possible in my bonds, anyway. How dare Ingrid assume I would disappoint Mistress like that? Did she think that little of me? I assume the alcohol had somehow made me forget I was a sissy, dressed in a demeaning outfit, who had been the centre of ridicule for much of the evening.

Mistress attached the leash to my new collar and gave it a tug. I had some trouble with my balance, but managed to follow her lead submissively.

“Very well. We are off. Don't stay too long, dears. It is almost midnight,” Mistress said as she guided me towards the door.

“Wait, that means it is still Cheryl's birthday,” Martina said. “Let's give our Swiss miss sissy a proper Swiss goodbye, ladies.”

Martina, Ingrid, Brigitt and Madame Directrice joined in song and clapping.

 “Zum geburstag viel gluck, Zum geburstag viel gluck, Zum geburstag liebe Cheryl, Zum geburstag......”

They were still singing as Mistress led me out of the room and up the stairs towards her room.


I followed submissively – I could do little else – as Mistress pulled my leash and guided me into her room. She sat me down on her bed and unclipped the leash. She didn't unlock my cuffs, though.

She drifted around the room slowly undressing. First her jacket, then her skirt (not easy with the strapon still underneath). Next came her blouse.

“Cheryl, would you help me with my bra? Oh right, never mind. You are all tied up at the moment, aren't you?” She chuckled. Guess that joke never got old.

“Yes Mistress, it seems I am. My apologies. But if you would untie me...” I tried.

“That can wait,” she said. “Don't worry, I do not really need your help anyway.” She unhooked her bra. “No peeking, my dear. Close your eyes.”

I did. I heard her strip to her undies, taking the strapon off as I heard the harness thud as she dropped it on her dresser. Then she took of her panties, I am sure. I may then have accidentally blinked.

“Cheryl!  If I see you peeking one more time, you will wear a blindfold until morning! Understand, naughty girl?”

She accepted my hasty but elaborate apology.

She moved about the room. Picking a piece of clothing from one dresser, than another one from a closet. She took her time putting them on, and I felt like the very air was being charged.

When she was done, I heard her take place behind her vanity mirror, taking off her jewelry and letting her hair loose. With a brush she stroked it again and again, until I heard her fix it in place with what I assumed were hair clips.

She wiped her face, probably removing her make-up, but I also heard her touch it up here and there.

“You may open your eyes, honey.” She finally said.

It was amazing to see a woman over forty with such a body. Lean, but perfectly rounded in the right places. Long hair falling over her right shoulder.  Nothing artificial about her. Truly a piece of art only nature itself can make. 

She had framed that piece of art with a black bra and panties, which I saw were made of leather. Her waist was inside a matching corset, red lining giving striking contrast to the black satin, from which suspender straps held up stockings. Black patent leather pumps with four inch heels completed the ensemble.

I felt tongue tied, I couldn't help saying something. “You are beautiful, Mistress,” was the best I could come up with.

“Thank you, my dear,” she said with a warm smile. “Now, let's get that silly jacket and skirt off you, shall we? Stand up.”

I got on my heels, and she untied the small bow at my tummy. She pulled slowly on the silk until the knot came undone. She then reached around me to untie the larger bow at my back, looking deep into my eyes as she did. When the other knot was loose, she pulled back on the ribbons that Martina had wrapped around and around to make up the bows. Like silk serpents they twisted around my waist until they were off and Mistress held them up like some banner before letting them flutter to the ground.

She undid my jacket's only button, opening it to the sides and from my shoulders. I was still cuffed, so my arms were still in the sleeves, but she left it at that. I sighed as she stroked the nipples of my fake boobs.

“You are as sensitive as a real girl, Cheryl” she simply said. 

My mind must have melted under her touch. “Yes, Christina,” I replied inadvertently. I gasped as I realized what I had just said.

She gave me a warning look. Stern, but not unkind. She put her hand below my chin and tilted it back, forcing me to look right in her eyes “Mistress,” she said. “I am your Mistress, Cheryl. Forever and always. And you will address me as such. However, this is a special evening and you deserve the right to speak my given name. So just for tonight you may call me Mistress Christina.”

She sniggered. “But how should I call you now? Little miss Rosatunte?” She reached around me to unzip my skirt and pulled it down.

“Cheryl is fine, Mistress Christina.” I said sighing as I felt her hands running down my legs.

“Not tonight, my dear.” She gently turned me around, blowing softly in my ear. “You'd call a maid by her first name only. But today I accepted you as a true sissy in my household. You should cherish that position. Rejoice in your title. Tonight I will call you 'sissy Cheryl'.” She put a lot of emphasis on the first word.

I couldn't quite follow that logic, and I wasn't sure if she was mocking me.  As far as I was concerned 'sissy' is not a compliment. But I wasn't about to argue.

She finally unlocked my cuffs, but held my arms tight for a moment. Then she pulled the jacket off entirely. She unwrapped the pink bow around my ponytail and then fluffed my loose hairdo a bit. She gently turned me around.

Her bright eyes scanned me from top to bottom, stopping at my bra, panties and heels. She smiled.

“All in white. Just like out first night together, no?” she wiped a loose lock of hair out of my face. “Only, you are no longer a virgin. I already took your cherry.”

I blushed. “Yes, Mistress Christina. I am sorry, but Miss Brigitt insisted on it.”

“Don't worry, my dear. You look good in white. Besides, only men are obsessed with virgins. Women like their partners to have some experience. Sissies too.”

She stepped closer. She put her hands on my breasts, stroking them. I felt the lightest touch transmit through the material to my over-sensitive real ones. I gasped. I desperately wanted to put my hands on her, but kept them at my sides. She would determine when I was to touch her.

“You have gained some experience by now, haven't you, sissy Cheryl?”

“Yes, Mistress Christina. You have trained me well, and I have had a lot of practice.” That was true, up to a point. In another life I had my fair share of sexual encounters, but nothing compared to what has happened the last few months. At this rate, I would have had more sex as a girl than I could have ever hoped to have as a man before the year was out. I didn't dare linger on the fact that nowadays I was always the receiving party.

“Time to show me what you have learned,” she spoke as she sat me down on the bed, then walked over to the dresser to pick up the strapon.

“Lay down on the bed, sissy Cheryl. Your Mistress is going to give you the ride of your life,” she said as she fastened the straps of the harness around her.
“Shouldn't I take my heels off first, Mistress Christina?” I said hesitantly.

“Of course not, silly girl.” She said without looking up. “I'm not taking mine off either. Sex is better with heels on. It makes women feel more sexy, taller and empowered. It makes sissies more sexy too, hobbled and vulnerable. Now do as I say.” She finished adjusting the strapon.

I lay down on my back, and Mistress Christina sat down next to me. Her right hand stroking my breasts through my bra, then running down past my corset and to my clitty. I gasped.

“Do you want me to take my clothes off, Mistress Christina?” I said.

“No, sissy Cheryl. I want you to kiss me.” She said as she put her tongue in my mouth. I received it with a moan as I felt her hands dance over my body.


I was already awake when the sun came up. I had slept, for sure. I was very tired afterwards. So was Mistress, who was still asleep, her arm around my naked body. I had lost most of my undies during the night. I only wore my heels and stockings now. So did Mistress, who had even taken the strapon off.

A ray of sunshine sneaked between the curtains and fell on the floor, illuminating the vibrator we had used only hours before.  Other items were there as well. A blindfold. Crop. Ballgag. Everything that was in the nightstand had found its way to the floor eventually. Through me, mostly.

When she was done, Mistress was sweating. She had given it her all for hours. One moment making me moan and squeal with whatever she was holding, the next having me make her groan and grunt as I worked furiously to please her.

Now do not get me wrong, there was no equality. She gave and I received. Everything I wanted to give to her, she took from me instead. When I teased her breasts, it was with her hands around my wrists holding them there. When I licked her, she was pushing my head down forcefully and slapping me hard if my tongue slackened. I entered her only because she sat her crotch down on me.

She had me dancing to her tune, however. I sweet talked, squealed, moved, kicked my legs, and blushed just the way she liked it, brooking no reluctance or failing. She was... forceful... every time she found me wanting, occasionally locking my cuffs and the crop was not for show. Nevertheless, she had made me come. Several times even. Some of the cum found its way back into my mouth or hole.

Yes, she pulled my strings with the grace and skill of a master puppeteer performing with a pretty doll.  Not because she simply could or to assert her dominance over me, but to make me feel it. She searched and probed me for the act that would make me moan and weep with embarrassed delight. I got a glimpse of the joy and pleasure of my humiliation and submission, the feelings of male ego, broken pride and dread silenced for the briefest of moments.

Mistress mumbled something as I moved her hand away and got up. I blushed as I felt a sting of embarrassment as I saw all the female sex toys that I both loved and loathed and had perhaps paid for myself.

I was already halfway dressed when she woke up. “Cheryl?” she said groggily.

I bobbed a curtsy. “Good morning, Mistress,” I said properly, not speaking her name. Perhaps I was her lover mere hours ago, but with the sunrise I was her maid again. I had to play the part. “I am sorry to awaken you, but I need to hurry, as it appears I'm already late for my shift. And it seems you have missed breakfast. Would you like me to ask Frau Seiler to bring some to your room?” I asked perkily.

She sat upright, smiling contentedly. “That will not be necessary. I'll just grab a big lunch at noon.” She hopped her feet from the bed and onto the floor. “And there is no rush. I'm giving you this morning off. Just make sure you are ready to help Frau Seiler at lunchtime.”

“Thank you, Mistress. But I still need to shower, put on my makeup and fix my hair. And I will need some time to put on an outfit for my shift. I fear Miss Brigitt will have me try various frilly dresses before she finds one that is appropriate. I'll be glad if I'm actually ready at lunchtime.”

“What a wonderfully considerate sissy you are,” she said with a happy smile. “I am so glad you offered yourself to me. Your whole life no less...” She beamed “Now I have you all to myself.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” I said as I bobbed a curtsey. But my smile was uneasy. That last remark had troubled me.

Mistress saw my broken smile. “What is the matter, my dear?” she asked concerned.

“That is not quite true, is it Mistress?” I said with a saddened voice. “Madame Directrice told me about Miss Rosenberg. About your arrangement. She will come for me soon, won't she?”

Mistress walked up to me, put her hands around me and drew my head against her shoulder. She kissed me on my forehead. “Yes,” She simply said. She didn't apologise- that was not her way- but I could feel her regret.

We stood there for a moment, until I just nodded. “If that is what it takes...” I uttered, fiddling with the ornament on my collar. I detached from her embrace. Looked her in the eyes, and smiled.

My heels clicked as I stepped back. I bobbed a deep curtsey. “May I be excused, Mistress?”

She gave the slightest of nods. I felt her gaze follow me as I left the room.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Luv this story. More plz.