Kajal Tuesday, 16 August Thanks a lot Rajibalan for providing new story writing Section Kashmiraa Tuesday, 16 August New page new beginning Thanks Raji.

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Hopefully kajal ma’am will consider writing again. Best of luck.

You can download it or if you have amazon prime you can read for free. I shall be posting stories regularly now on amazon.

Regards, Ex-q-zit. Arun Wednesday, 17 August Priya Thursday, 18 August I steel myself for the humiliating ritual that’s been perfected through rote repetition- though the number of times it’s performed, like every other degradation I suffer through on a daily basis, does little to lessen the sheer gut punch of the act of pure submission.

I open the front door and step back to allow Sir through, my gaze downcast as not to make the punishable offense of eye contact.

In my mind, the ridiculousness of this situation is heightened as he’s quite a few years younger than me, not particularly well muscled, and not even as tall as me in flats, let alone the 5″ inch stiletto heels constantly required of me.

But while he’s wearing a trendy button up shirt and simple slacks, I’m attired in a ridiculous ensemble that’s more of a bride than a man. My entire wardrobe now consisted of sarees and appropriate accessories of an indian bride, most of which were pink.

My naturally straight dark hair was dyed and exhaustively maintained long till my mid back, curled with pink highlights and held with ribbons into the occasional ponytail, or, more likely like todaya french bun.

Of course I have to maintain full, overdone makeup at all times, with requirements of married indian wife like sindoor and mangalsutra. Today’s outfit was a particularly heavy embroidery saree with puffy organza short sleeve blouse and two full petticoats, beneath that are the bow tipped stockings that highlight my smooth legs and dainty ankles, my feet encased and contorted in pink patent high heels laced shut with sheer ribbons.

Both my hands are adorned in 24 bangles, 3 rings on fingers and mehandi.

Despite the physical superiority I would have felt over this man in another life, now our roles were universally clear. Unfortunately, it’s not just the outrageous clothing I wore, but the enforced behavior that cemented my role.

Part 2: I immediately curtseyed deeply, a ridiculously revised one Mistress taught me that consisted of exaggerated movements and a deep bow that showed off my enhanced cleavage.

In addition, I grabbed the front portion of my saree and petticoats in each hand, lifting it so my tiny, inescapable titanium chastity device was on full display to him, it’s integrated PA piercing securely compressing my once proud seven inches to a mere inch and a quarter.

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Panties for me was forbidden so that my emasculated state could always be shown easily when required, which was often. When Sir had expressed concern over another “man” living under her roof, Mistress brutally trained me to increase my submission to him, which included this completely degrading Greeting ritual.

In addition, the only key to the device, which she had once proudly worn around her neck, was replaced with a ceremonial, decorative one. Part 3: The real key, a specialized hand forged affair, was given to me for the first time in over three years – so that I may immediately and tearfully present it to Sir on the same platter I delivered wine and condoms to Mistress with.

He had laughingly taken it with the smuggest expression- the same one I sensed he had now as I mentally counted to three as I struggled to maintain my curtsey and expression.

Despite being a scholar and intellectual, Mistress insisted my IQ was as such I must always maintain a vacant, doe eyed stare and a wide, simpering smile.

After three seconds I straightened, just long enough to sink steadily down to my knees. Slowly clasping each elbow behind my back, then crossing my ankles, “No rushing, Sissy!

Still staring at his shoes, I slowly straighten up until I’m back upright on my knees before performing the next act of my choreographed sissified submission.

I slowly and deliberately unclasp my arms and bring them up to my sides like I’m nothing more than a mechanical doll, elbows tucked in against my slender waistline, wrists limp at shoulder height, fingers spread outwards to show off my pretty polish.

Then my right hand comes to my mouth so I can “hide” a practiced, nervously high pitched giggle into my straightened fingertips as my gaze shyly darts between his shoes and the zipper of his pants.

Three seconds. Then both my arms are back into Sissy Presentation one second before finally transitioning into “Sissy Princess”, where I bend my wrists up, both palms facing outwards, finger tips ever so slightly curled in- a dainty pose familiar to Disney lovers everywhere.

But the Disney comparison ends there as, arms still prissily posed, I bite the corner of my lower lip and hesitatingly lean forward slightly to gently place my nose against the bulge in his slacks, then more firmly as I slowly nuzzle and giggle, while occasionally inhaling his musky scent deeply and sighing with wonton lust.

Part And then, still nuzzling, I direct my gaze up as I plant a kiss on the thin material covering his hardened manhood- the only time I’m allowed to make eye contact is with a penis or semen in the vicinity of my mouth.

And my wide, faux blue eyes maintain his arrogant, sneering gaze, his firm crotch hot against my lips as I lean back a bit and look up to face him, force a smile, and gigglingly dart the tip of my tongue out to playfully touch his bulge for a moment as I make my eyes sparkle naughtily and wink like this is our little secret I want the Earth to open up and swallow me whole, to put an end to this miserable spectacle of sissy servitude that I had in a way helped create, that I had at one point SOUGHT OUT, a game I nearly had to force my beautiful, formerly sweet and innocent girlfriend to partake in which has spun completely out of control But of course, the Earth doesn’t open up.

07.03.2020 – Shemalesana Thursday, 01 September There I stood, before a stranger, with the back of the dress above my waist HypnoSissy: Cum Cravings fetish silkstockingslover Rose, after allowing him to go down on her a couple of times, gives him a USB with a dozen videos that he is to watch unknown to him they are hypno-sissy videos and under their influence he gradually becomes more and more curious about sucking cock and eating cum.

Instead, I feel another powerful stirring, this one within my chastity device, and I’m reminded what put me on the path that lead me here.

At the moment, I’m wearing this ridiculous outfit, pathetically forcing a pose that took months of practice, tongue out, smiling prissily on my knees before the man I would be intimately catering to later in the evening to physically prepare him to make rough love to my former girlfriend, to which I was now an unpaid maid and source of endless amusement for.

The same man I would be allowed to, a few times a year, beg for him to unlock my cage and let me masturbate in some degrading way of their choosing The man who’s watched Mistress serve me his spent cum in all manner of humiliating ways- most recently by “allowing” me to pour his used condoms on to my tear streaked but always smiling upturned face, which I then delicately and diligently collected and sucked and kissed off my pinky tips, endlessly moaning and lisping my thanks for the “wonderful gift” as they laughed at my disgusting display And I’m brought back to the present again as a gush of sissy juice squirts out of my cage, trailing slowly down my thigh- my forced smile turning into an O as an unrehearsed moan escapes my lips and a tiny full body spasm partially unbalances me for a moment.

My cheeks flush anew as Sir sees my body betray me in the most intimate way, and I know being a pathetic sissy is exactly what I deserve to be. My training takes over as I know exactly what to do during all too frequent leakages like this, and the consequences if I don’t.

Please allow me a moment to freshen up! The last bit gets quickly pat on my pursed lips with a smacking kiss. There, all gone where it belongs!

Madam Prius please write some interesting stories. Not waste stories. It can be accessed any of amazon local country website like amazon.

UK etc. Nisha Friday, 19 August Dream comes true: Hi, this is me Shafana. I was born in an conservative Muslim family in Tamilnadu. Right from my birth, my parents induced being conservative on me.

I had an elder brother, his name is Shafiq.

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I hate the partiality at my home right from my child hood. This makes me feel irritated every single time, that my brother was treated special and i was denied to have very nominal things and small small happiness which i can enjoy.

I was good at studies right from the beginning, on the other hand my brother was an below average student. He was 3 years ahead to me.

When i crossed 10th standard, my parents were forced me to wear burqa, I really didn’t liked that costume.

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Especially during summer, it was hard to manage the burqa, in my house, i was not permitted to wear anything beyond traditional. So, i will be wearing a chudidhar or half sari, and over to that, i need to wear burqa.

So it created lot of uneasiness for me while going public. As my father is into business and his business is doing so good, we were enjoying all luxuries.

But, entire household works has to be done by mother and as i crossed my 10th standard, i was also forced to take active part in all the works.

I really envy my brother, he just do nothing and laze around home or go out for roaming with his friends.

My dad always used to have frequent travels and I, my mom and my brother will be there in the home most of the time. As like my father, my mom also has traditional mindset, so she always ensure that I m under her control and follows all the values and rituals.

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In my home, we have individual bedrooms, and I used to sleep or study or do whatever in my room. Eventually 10th board exams came and I wrote it very well.

After that nearly there was 2 months holiday. So, I was forced to stay indoors. My mom taught me, how to cook different cuisines and lot of household activities, which I least interested, as I had no other options, I learned it.

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My mom has the habit of sleeping in noon. One fine day, in afternoon, my mom was sleeping and there was no power in home.

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I found pile of clothes been washed, ironed, folded and kept on his wardrobe, I thought about me, where I was forced to wash my clothes and wear it.

A spark clicked on my mind. I took a jean and shirt, rushed into my room.

So I went to my room, locked it and start undressing, I wore his clothes. And the fit was perfect, as we both were lean and almost had same height.

I removed all my inners, jewels, Mac up and accessories. I tied my hair in a bun behind; I looked somewhat close to a male.

After two hours, I changed to my clothes and replace his clothes in his room as it was kept. Then it became my favorite hobby.

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I steal two pairs of jeans, a shirt, t shirt, and short one pair of his old underwear set. Every night, I used to wear his clothes and sleep peacefully.

We spent the next two hours collecting all the lingerie items I needed to start my feminine wardrobe. Dresses for Women, Mini Club Dresses different sizes, designs, cuts The assistant came in after 20 odd minutes.

I never shared this happy secret of mine to anybody else in this world. I finished my 12th and I secured My parents were very much happy and my dad gifted me a I phone along with lot of advices like should not misuse it and should never share no with boys and strangers like that.

My family members were started discussing about my higher studies.