Sissy Sharon's Saturday

The day begins at 4:30 a.m.. I am awakened by the alarm next to my bed on the floor in my tiny cell. It’s barely big enough for the old mattress I have to sl**p on, but it has been my bedroom for the past 8 or 9 years (I’ve lost track). Every day is basically the same. I wake up and crawl from my room to the bathroom at the end of the hall in the basement. Cameras watch my every move, so trying to cheat by walking (ever) is a no-no. The punishment is far worse than the crime, so I am always obedient. In the bathroom I administer several enemas, being sure to expel all the nasty waste from my bowels so that my boi-pussy is perfectly clean and acceptable. I am allowed to stand and shower, and I must always shave everything to perfection. I am in the process of undergoing laser treatments for body hair (we started with my back), and eventually it won’t take so long to get ready for the day, but for now the whole process can take about 90 minutes, so I must get up early. Once I am clean and smooth, I dress in my little maid costume consisting of a very short black skirt and a little white apron that covers the front of the skirt and ties behind my back and around my neck, providing some modest cover for my breasts. My shoulder length hair, straight and light reddish brown, hangs softly around my face. I put on my pink leather collar with rhinestones that spell Sissy Sharon. My little boi-stick cock is securely locked in a special chastity device and just shows below the hem of the skirt. My smooth round ass peeks seductively from the bottom of the skirt in back. I put on my high heeled strappy shoes and walk as quietly as possible up the stairs to the kitchen where I begin to fix my Mistress (and any guests she may have) breakfast.

My name is Sharon, and I belong to Mistress Angela Hightower. I am her owned sissy, and I have been hers since my early 20s. She is my world, and I would do anything for her. I hardly remember my previous life, even my real name. The combination of the lifestyle routine, the hormones, the occasional poppers at parties, and never hearing me called anything but Sharon or Sissy for nearly a decade has pushed most of it to the dark recesses of my mind. Besides, I don’t want to remember it – mostly. I didn’t like who I was, never felt like I fit in, and felt as if I had been reborn when I met Mistress Angela.

Today she berates me as usual at breakfast. The coffee isn’t strong or hot enough. The eggs aren’t cooked the way she likes them. She raises my skirt and fondles my little caged clitty with the spikes in it. The tip of my clit is exposed in this special device, so it is available and sensitive. Mistress Angela delights in arousing me enough to cause an erection to begin which results in pain from the spikes in the device’s collar. For my punishment this morning, she takes her little Allen wrench and adjusts the spikes so that they dig in even more. Then she gently licks the tip of my clitty until I start to respond, and I moan with pleasure/pain. “That will teach you to do a better job tomorrow, slut,” she says, with an icy edge to her voice. “We will leave it like that for the rest of the day, and you have a big day today, so you’ll get to enjoy the sensation often.” I think I know what she means, but I clean up the table and do the dishes, then finish the rest of my cleaning chores while she spends time on-line and on the phone with friends.

Around noon she calls me to her side where she commands me to strip completely and stand with my hands behind my head. She admires my increasing breast size, playing with them as I stand in front of her, pinching my nipples hard and enjoying the look that flashes across my face. She attaches a little bell to the cage between my legs. Whenever we go out, and often when we have guests, I must wear the bell so that she always knows where I am, and she knows without looking if my cockette is twitching and trying to become erect. It is quite humiliating to be walking with her in the mall or a quiet store and hear my little bell tinkling beneath my skirt. I often get looks as we pass other shoppers, but I keep my eyes down as instructed and always follow just behind her.
As we’re due to go out shortly, she leads me to her room and the special closet she keeps for me. I dress under her instructions, as usual, in a little demi-bra that lifts up my 34B breasts but doesn’t cover them and a little frilly garter belt (pink and white). White stockings are next and my shoes are little black high-heeled Mary Janes that look both innocent and slutty at the same time. Next a petticoat that will support the skirt of the frilly pink sissy dress I’m given to put on. The clothing is always some variation on this – very frilly, very sissy, very obviously over-the-top femmy to reinf***e to everyone that I am a very special gurl. The petticoat constantly rubs against the exposed tip of my clitty giving me an almost constant partial erection, but the mean little spiked collar beneath the head prevents it from fully rising and sticking out. Mistress Angela frowns on rude displays of sissy excitement like that, unless of course she is the one trying to make it happen. Once dressed, I follow Mistress to the garage and her big sedan. Mistress clips a pink leash to my pink rhinestone collar and gets in, giving the leash a jerk to pull me in after her. Her driver, an enormous black man named Ernie, closes the doors for us and then slides behind the wheel. “Frank’s,” is all Mistress Angela has to say to him, and we head into town.

It’s Saturday, but I’m not really aware of that. Days mean nothing to me, nor does the time of year. I exist solely for the pleasure of Mistress Angela, so there is no need to mark the days of the week or any other occasions for me. Every day is the same. I do realize when certain holidays arise, because Mistress will often have parties to celebrate, and I’m either helping to serve her guests, or else I am part of the entertainment. Because it’s the weekend, Mistress has plans with some of her friends, and she is taking me to a place where I can make some money for her, Frank’s Adult Emporium, in a rather sleazy part of town. When we arrive, Ernie accompanies us as we enter, holding the door for us and chuckling quietly as I pass by him, the sweet scent of my sissy perfume giving him a little twinge in his groin.

Frank greets Mistress and Ernie warmly and immediately takes my leash from her and tugs at it, forcing me to nearly stumble as we head down a narrow, dimly lit hallway. I know where we’re going. I’ve been here before, many, many times. In the back of the store, which features videos and sex toys up front, Frank maintains a collection of glory hole booths. He has created a special one for me. It is narrower than most, and he opens the door to my place of employment. Of course I don’t make any money at this. Mistress Angela has an arrangement with Frank for a percentage of what I bring in. He charges men $25 to use me, and I often service 10-15 men an hour. I’m told to undress, down to my bra and garter belt and stockings. Frank hands my clothes to Mistress Angela and then bends me over facing the hole on the left hand wall of the room and clips a chain from the corner to my collar. A second chain from next to the door is also attached keeping me from moving my face away from the hole. He undoes my leash and says, “Hands!” I put my hands behind my back where he clicks the handcuffs in place that I will wear until I’m done for the day. Then he smacks me on the bare ass. “Do good, today, fuck face! I have a new sign in the window letting everyone know you’re here,” he says laughing a dirty laugh. What makes the booth special is that it is just wide enough for me to push my ass up against the right wall, which also has a glory hole in it. If I almost stand up, my boi pussy matches the hole in the wall, so it’s possible for two men to use me at the same time. When I’m not being fucked in the pussy, I can kneel on the slightly padded floor (Frank is very thoughtful) and just suck the cocks that are constantly poking through the left hand hole in the wall. Usually, however, the demand for my pussy is as great as for my talented mouth. There is a little mirror on the wall just above the hole I’m facing so I can see when the next cock comes through the hole wanting my ass. The other special feature of this room is the trough. It’s a long shallow dish that runs almost from one wall to the other on the floor between my legs. It is solid pink plastic. Its function is to catch any cum that I either miss with my mouth or that oozes out of my pussy. After hours and hours in the glory hole room, believe me, the trough can be very, very full. At the end of my shift, which is usually at 2 or 3 in the morning, I’m unchained and made to slurp up the impressive amount of cum that has accumulated in the trough, most of it having dripped out of my well-fucked asshole. The trough is never washed. I am the cleaner, and the smell of old and fresh cum fills my nose as I lick, slurp and suck up the juices from scores of men who have used me.

Mistress Angela first brought me here about 3 years ago, and it has been a good partnership for her and Frank. His sign out front beckons “Today – Sharon!” as she and Ernie leave me to go on to her afternoon and evening engagements. Already the parking lot is filling up with men who have been waiting for another chance to have me suck their cocks or offer them my sissy pussy. I’m usually brought here a couple of times a month, and Frank makes good money when men know I am available. So my job begins, and I am happy that I can be so productive for my Mistress. It’s the least I can do for the life she has allowed me to have. For the next 12 hours, I am sodomized repeatedly and without any let-up. I swallow quarts of cum and occasionally some piss as some men take advantage of the opportunity to use a sissy as crudely as possible. Frank doesn’t mind. He doesn’t have to bother to give me any breaks or bring me something to drink because he knows I’ll get enough fluid in the course of my time in the booth. He just wants to keep his customers happy and coming back for more.

In the early morning hours, Ernie arrives to take me home. He and Frank watch as I carefully consume the contents of the trough, licking up the cum and urine that has collected there. “She’s a good little cum dump, isn’t she?” Ernie says. “The best! Better than any woman, as far as I’m concerned,” Frank replies. “She’s a natural cocksucker and has a great, tight ass,” he continues. “I sometimes slip in and fuck her myself,” Franks says with a laugh. “When there’s a lull. That didn’t happen today, though. It was constant, once the word got around that our little Sissy was in the back, I had ‘em lined up! You tell Angela she can expect a nice chunk of change this week!” I hear all this as if in a dream. I’m exhausted, and my stomach is full of semen and urine. All I want is to curl up on my smelly mattress and sl**p for a few hours. Ernie doesn’t bother to let me dress. He clips the leash to my collar and drags me out to the car in my underwear, putting me into the cavernous trunk of the car. After 12 hours of use, I smell, and Mistress doesn’t want the inside of her car smelling like used pussy. The ride home goes quickly, and I’m taken to my little room where I quickly fall asl**p, the taste and smell of cum and the sensation of cocks sliding in and out of me filling my dreams. I’m in sissy heaven.

Mistress throws a Sissy Party

100% (19/0)
Categories: AnalFetishShemales
Posted by scatpetsmaster
5 months ago    Views: 1,713
Comments (5)
Reply for:
Reply text
Please login or register to post comments.
1 month ago
Mmm what a lucky sissy sharon is!
1 month ago
Lucky girl, i wish i had a mistress like you
5 months ago
Amazing imagery...thank you!
5 months ago
wow that was good
5 months ago
incredibly hot