If this type of writing stretches your panties, additional stories can be purchased per request. Very reasonable, AND can be used over and over again so you can delight to your hearts content in the soft, sweet girly feelings that are always somewhere inside of you, just aching to come out.
$15.00 for 5 to 7 pages, (you choose subject categories) Please email me for more info at firstname.lastname@example.org. Thank you.
Sissys Need to be Serviced!
(an excerpt from my soon to be published Sissy Manual, an Owners Guide)
by Eva Marie
If you want your sissy to provide good service, then any responsible sissy owner knows that a sissy needs servicing as well. These drippy, emotional waifs need to be polished with special sissy rubbing compound until their pink hairless bodies glow all over. They must be trained with posture plugs, such to display proper deportment at all times. They must be appropriately disciplined. And sissies learn best by way of their bottoms, their peenies and their plums. It is important to utilize various devices to keep the latter two contained at all times. Public discipline, public milkings and public inspections serve to enhance the humiliation they crave and this not only provides a tormented sort of servicing to the sissy, but fun entertainment for all as well. I highly recommend that sissy Mistresses check out the large array of milking equipment now available online. If a sissy's cream sacs are not completely emptied, these creatures will often become cantankerous and unruly. Of course, some panty spillage is inevitable when your little pleasure pet is first pantied, but at the first sight of a full fledged eruption, one can slap a drip cap over the offensive little member and that should put an end to an unwanted emissions and ruined little panties. I find that dressing them from head to toes in slippery satin and silk does wonders for their sissy cream production as well.
Junior Slut Final Exams
part 1 Fictional Fantasy
Head Mistress has been overseeing the training of the lovely Lucia from the very beginning. With small but supple budding breasts, a well shaped rear end, beautiful legs and small, slender feet, Lucia has always shown such promise. Mistress does enjoy showing off her best pupil. But Luc is still considered a junior slut until she is able to pass all of her final exams. She does so want to graduate to senior level slut training and has been rigorously applying herself to her studies, hoping to convince her Mistress that she is now ready to have her performance evaluated and graded.
Finally that time has come, but it isn’t going to be as easy as Lucia might expect. Mistress knows that she must instill and constantly reinforce submissiveness in all of her girls, otherwise they eventually become over confident and “cocky”. And “cocky” is one thing the Mistress will absolutely not tolerate. (This would be too closely associated with maleness!) Students of this academy undergo specialized sensitivity training and are encouraged to deny their gender of origin. Instead, they are taught to immerse themselves in all that is girlie and focus hard to acquire more and more femininity. Hands on training is provided here and they also use a wide variety of training tools as well. Encouragement and support is given to every girl in the program but sometimes a little old fashioned discipline is also necessary too.
A novice named Pete is chosen at random and Lucia is put to the test. Will Lucia remember everything she learned when in the face of a real live cock? Mistress will lean in close to better observe. Will her oral skills be up to par? Or will Mistress have to yank her away and demonstrate proper technique herself? Will Lucia be wide mouthed, soft and sweet or will she slurp slurp slurp out loud? Goodness gracious, what if she shies away from it? Will Mistress have to grab her by the back of the head and shove her down on it, for Pete’s sake? (nice pun eh?) Will Lucia be able to successfully demonstrate the 17 most effective strokes that make up the ultimate hand job? She will be judged by the pleasure meter but she must also take utmost care to see that things don’t happen too fast either. Unless the Mistress is having a contest where her girls will specifically be scored on sheer volume, “quickies” are almost always frowned upon at this institute and grounds for failure. A well trained senior slut will instinctively monitor the reactions of her charge and she should always take precautionary actions to insure that “things don’t come out too fast”. Any tart can open her mouth and provide a cheap thrill, but graduates of this establishment are an elite few, those who will become the finest pleasure sluts in the whole wide world!
Sissy Tinkerbelle on Display Fictional Fantasy
Little Tinkerbell was appropriately named. As she was being lead through the crowd by her Mistress, those in close range could hear the tink tink tink of her strategically placed bells. Tinkerbell was now in a training display exercise. Her intimate “bits” and all their unusual adornments would soon be on display to a small audience of eight to ten of the roughest toughest guys Mistress could line up. The purpose of this exercise was to humiliate and shame the little fairy until she learned to control her unsightly little stiffies. Twice this week Mistress presented the pansy with the most delicate of shiny silk panties and both times Tinkerbell stretched out the front in a grotesque monster like way. Both pair of lovely panties got ruined and had to be disposed of. How could they ever be worn again now with that awful telltale bulge in the front? Well this simply will not do, Mistress decided. This pathetic sissy is going to learn to lose her stiffie on command. Then we will work on preventing her from getting that thing all stiff to begin with. Yes, proper sissies must remain flaccid and squishy soft so as not to offend. Poor Tinkerbell has no idea why she is being paraded around like this today. If her tiny hands were free, she would no doubt be tugging hopelessly on her dress. It stops way short of everything the poor dear just wants to hide.
The Sissy Café Part 1
Never underestimate the entertainment value of a sissy! That’s the philosophy behind the hugely successful Sissy Café. Here’s the basic premise. Coffee is served black, then as part of an elaborate stage show production, an interesting variety of sissies are milked to supply “special order” cream. A number of wealthy perverts with, shall we say “distinguished tastes”, shell out big bucks to partake of this freshly produced commodity, although sissy lovers from all over the world come just for the show. And what a show it is! Watching sissy after sissy being made to “cream” before a live audience, now that’s entertainment! No wonder the place is always packed.
In control of the day to day operations at The Sissy Cafe is a conglomerate of high heeled Mistresses. Consumate authoritarians who stand out in the crowd, they orchestrate sissy dramatics with serious efficiency. The resulting production is the ultimate in hardcore amusement for sissies and sissy lovers alike.
The elevated milking stage is large enough to accommodate up to eight sissies at a time with still plenty of room for the Mistresses on the extraction team. The first few rows are obviously the most desirable seats in the house, but the live action on stage is also broadcast simultaneously on large screen monitors scattered throughout. From my observational standpoint here in the third row, I’ll do my best to report on what has become the hottest ticket in town, LIVE from The Sissy Café!.
And now, the lights have been dimmed. That means show time, folks! According to the program, first to take the stage is a group of virtually untrained, young and inexperienced sissies. Six in all, they have been affectionately dubbed “The Quickies”. Lights, cameras, action! Here they come, deliriously, (and hilariously), overenthusiastic. All dressed alike in lemon lace, with bouncy flouncy ruffles, and curls, they skitter forth antsy pantsy, to take their places as rehearsed. When the spotlights hit them, the sissies momentarily freeze, doe eyed in the headlights. Suddenly they don’t know exactly what to do with their hands. We see thumbs getting sucked and hems get flipped into drooling mouths. They fidget and strike adorable little girl poses as they take in the audience with wide eyed wonderment. The dresses are all very short, naturally. (for easy accessibility) Underneath all the ruffles and lace we can see their feminized little dollies, all trussed up with pale yellow ribbons and finished with a simple bow on top. The same pale yellow ribbon was also used to separate the “twins”, and they have been made to look like two dangling little Easter eggs. Although the overall effect is darling, their genitals have to be bound extra tight. After all, “The Quickies” were labeled that for a reason. Each and every one of them is a notoriously premature ejaculator. And having just spent the last 30 minutes backstage being manually “prepared” for the show, it comes as no surprise that the Quickies can hardly contain themselves. But when tiny fingers start to reach down between legs, they are slapped away immediately. Everyone knows that with this group, there is always a risk that one or more will end up creaming themselves before their spout can be properly maneuvered and aimed. Inevitably, this is what will happen almost every time. Ut oh, there goes one now. Never fails. Sure enough, before the music is even started, a loud sissy gasp can be heard and even without a helping hand, the little junket pumper begins to spurt on its own. Ut oh, spaghetti-O! In a fraction of a second, a punishment Mistress is on the scene and before any more can squirt out, she grabs the offending shooter with all her might and applies pressure to the stalk to immediately stop the flow. A stopper cap is quickly screwed onto the angry mushroom tip, and the early bird buckles in distress.
“Just like cappin’ up a gushin’ an oil well!”, some guy with a heavy Texas brawl yells out.
A peenie leash gets snapped on and the wilted little pansy now has no choice but to follow its own little pricklette as it is sternly lead away. The crowd sure enjoyed that little misadventure, but now all is quiet while a wet vac is brought in to suck up the waste. Then, it’s on with the show, minus one. Five little dresses are lifted on cue. Then, five sturdy Mistresses all yank at the same time. Binding ribbons fall to the floor. What follows is a short but sweet, simultaneous hand milking and “The Quickies” live up to their name! Squealing away, they fill their cups in almost perfect unison. After every one of them is completely milked out and patted dry, they are instructed to all hold hands and take a bow. The audience applauds, thoroughly charmed. Then, with satin swishing and petticoats crinkling, five drained little quickies are paraded off the stage, single file.
Next up, a couple of real squigglers, “The Taffeta Wigglers” are in constant motion, but are they squirming with excitement or from fear? Are they resisting or just twisting? It’s really difficult to tell. Maybe a little of both, maybe a lot of both, who knows, but it takes a total of four assistants grabbing them from behind to keep the “Taffeta Wigglers” still enough for the five knuckle wanking to come. To prevent any voluntary or involuntary kicking, their white pattern leather Mary Janes are secured right to the floor boards. Feet securely buckled down seems to have a grounding effect on them and what was almost seizure like activity has been reduced to shaky knees and quivering thighs, neither of which would effect or hinder the final outcome. Tee hee hee. This time Mistress Crème de la Crème will do the milking honors. She positions herself in the middle of them, her lovely backside to the audience.
As she stretches her arms out wide, a rectangular platform raises both sissies and their restrainers to a predetermined height so that their skin flutes can be easily and comfortably manipulated. Mistress takes a worm in each hand, then puts her whole body into the movement. As she rocks her body forward and backward, her hands go down and up, up and down those sissy shafts. Nice long strokes, back then forward, back then forward, down and up and up and down she goes until the telltale signs of impending explosion begin to present themselves. The cameras zoom in for a nice close up as The Taffeta Wigglers begin a duet of yowling and mewling. The Milking Mistress in front speeds up her tempo and those gripping from behind tighten their hold. Within a second the two jitterbugs fire their rockets into waiting coffee mugs, then one after another, collapse backward into waiting arms.
“Bravo! Bravo!” can be heard throughout for another splendid performance.
Next up is a solo act, Apple-Butter. This sissy is the picture of a candy striper in a red and white striped frock, with a white apron sash tied into a huge bow in the back. Her glossy brown hair has been set in long bouncy banana curls and parted on the side. On the other side, reminiscent of a style from the early 1900s, a large red bow is fastened just above eye level. How precious! Wearing lace topped white opaque stockings and what appear to be white satin ballerina shoes, (pointy toe shoes), with impossibly high spike heels, she slowly tip toes to center stage. Apple-Butter is desperately trying to summon courage as she gingerly takes her place in the spotlight.
One of the café’s richest patrons has pre-paid a large sum of money for Apple-Butter to make butter cream just for him. When the staggering offer was first made, Apple was only a junior creamer. She had never “produced” before a live audience before. It should be noted here that the sissies themselves, (or their representatives if they are legally owned), must sign an explicit agreement before they will be accepted as “entertainment” here at The Café. Part of that agreement states that once a sissy has signed on as a participant, there will be no backing out without the expressed consent of the management, and that the management of The Café has the right to take whatever action it deems necessary to enforce this rule. Apple-Butter, like most of the other sissies, is the property of someone else. And that someone else decided that, one way or another, Sissy Apple will be milked to satisfy this wealthy man. Apple’s Mistress gave her two choices. Because of her extreme shyness, she could opt for a private milking, (and immediately afterward, sold at auction to the highest bidder), or she could choose to be trained and prepped to make her Café debut on this very evening, and life with her Mistress would go on as it should. Apple-Butter begged. She cried that she’d do anything to keep from being sold! That left option # 2. Mistress was so pleased with this decision, she took her little charge to a dressmaker and had ordered several beautiful custom made dresses, with matching petticoats and bloomers, and seven pair of stretch satin “Apple” panties too, one for every day of the week. Sissy Apple was given all the training she needed plus extra encouragement and support, so why is the poor thing is shaking like a leaf right now? Her proud sponsor is seated right there in the very front row, empty cream pitcher in hand and her Mistress is standing right there on the sidelines, arms folded in front, just waiting. The trembling sissy stands there like a statue, eyes closed tight, willing herself not to faint. In a display of false bravado, the fairy signals her readiness to begin by lifting the front of her dress herself, an encouraging sign. Someone from stage left commands the sissy to open her eyes. Apple-Butter obeys, taking in the sea of faces. The crowd oohs and aahs as they make out what has been revealed. Underneath her dress is layers and layers of snow white lace, milking bloomers! With a deep breath, the sissy curtsies and pulls the drawstring to loosen her bloomers. The sissy stamps straight up and down in her little stiletto heels and down they go, in a cloud of fluffy white. There are nods of approval as Sissy steps out of her bloomers. Now we get our first glimpse of those adorable custom sewn panties. Sissy stamps down on her toes again, harder this time. She wants to hurry and get this over with! But the stage Mistress is not about to let her “get off” so easily. Mistress prolongs the young sissy’s humiliating experience by allowing the spectators a few more moments to take note of the undies before they are removed. Apple-Butter is wearing a beautiful pair of stretch satin panties, material that was meant to give. They are tight and glossy white with a bright red apple in front. The sapless sissy not only hears the reaction of the audience, she feels it, and the pressure within is mounting. The Milking Mistress reaches out to touch the apple. As she does, the apple begins to grow. The sissy squeaks but somehow manages to remain perfectly still as the apple gets bigger and bigger. With a wry smile, Mistress rubs the apple round and round. The more shame Apple feels, the more her fruit seems to grow.
“We do want our apples to be nice and shiny now, don’t we?” she says directly into the microphone.
“Yes, yes, yes!” everyone yells.
Just as the apple gets large enough to be fully appreciated by us connoisseurs, Mistress announces loud and clear, “Too bad these have to come down!”, With that, she pulls those apple panties down to the ground in one fell swoop. Now the room is really filled with noise, cheers and jeers, hoots and hollers. Apple-Butter’s face now looks delicious red, and so does that little pee pee! Whoa, check it out! It’s short, only about two or three inches in length but thick and bulbous like, well, just like a little crab apple! Snickers and laughter are the last sounds to be heard before things started to go a little haywire. Little Miss Wishy Washy apparently now overcome with second thoughts, starts having herself a panic attack of epic proportions. The sissy tries to renege. A struggle ensues and as they try to subdue her, that sweet little apple from the orchard turns into a bucking bronco from the rodeo. Well, Yippee Kye Yay! Hell, this scene alone is worth the price of admission! People all over the place jump to their feet to better see the whirling dervish get forced into submission.
“I’m thorry, I’m thorry, Pweaze! Pweazee. Pweazzzzzeeee!” She wails.
It takes three muscle Mistresses to subdue the struggling creature. They hold tight, waiting for direction.
“Whaaaaaaaaaa! Whaaaaaaaaaa!” the tart struggles mightily, with more high pitched protests, finally screaming. The sissies captors allow these hysterics to go on for a few minutes, knowing full well such a scene is great for business. On the sidelines, Apple Butter’s Mistress nods her approval to go through with the milking anyway, one way or another, and since one way was already tried…