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Hello again, my kinky friends! Tonight I did another very exciting session with a new slave of mine, who we’ll call T. T has a few years of experience in BDSM and is primarily interested in forced feminization and strap-on play (two specialties at once!) He can tolerate pain as punishment but is much more interested in the sensual side of BDSM. I thought I would take my time with him tonight, so I planned a fun few hours for us.
Slave T was five minutes early, as always, and he brought a lovely bottle of wine as a gift for me. He handed me that and his tribute, and I asked him to grab a few glasses and a corkscrew and meet me in the basement. I had gone shopping earlier in the day and had plenty to surprise him with. Usually, I order my subs to do the shopping for our sessions, but this time I decided I would pick out everything we would need for a night of girly fun.
T grabbed the items I had requested and made his way down the stairs into the basement. His eyes widened when he saw everything I had set out for us. A smile played on my lips as I gently reminded him to focus and pour us each a glass of the wine he had brought. I couldn’t blame him for his surprise – my normally severe, harsh dungeon was softened to a degree even I was unused to. I had draped soft throw blankets over the couch and my session table, dropped a few satin pillows around the room, and finished the effect by lighting the room softly with candles strewn over every stable surface. Of course I had a plan for all of these modifications, but slave T didn’t have to know that to appreciate the effect. The room was warm, soft, almost romantic – a perfect place to feminize my little slut.
Slave T is a natural and generally knows what’s expected of him, so I wasn’t surprised when he placed the drink tray on the ottoman and knelt before me, asking permission to open the bottle of wine. He had brought down two glasses as I had instructed, but after he had filled mine to the brim, he set the bottle back down on the tray. Handing me my glass, he told me how beautiful the dungeon looked and thanked me for allowing him to serve me. I asked T if I would have to order him to pour a glass for himself, and he dropped his eyes to the floor. “Ma’am, if I may…” he began. I lifted an eyebrow, fairly certain I knew what he was going to say. “You may.” “Mistress has gone to such trouble to prepare this session, slave was wondering if he could be permitted to keep a clear head?” I laughed softly to myself. Of course he’d want to be completely sober for an evening specially planned by me. I reached down and stroked his cheek, cupping his chin and tilting his head up so that his gaze met mine. “Darling, I’ll allow it – if you promise to keep my glass full all evening.” He beamed up at me, relieved and eager. Time to get this slave naked and put him through his paces.
I ordered T to stand and disrobe for me. Leaning back against the sofa, I dipped a hand behind the cushion to my left. When T had neatly folded his clothes and stood before me, hands clasped behind his back and head bowed, I pulled out a carrier bag from La Senza, where I had managed to find the things I needed. I nudged his thigh with my high heel, smiling slyly at him and motioning for him to take a seat beside me on the couch. He obeyed, cocking his head and shooting me an endearing smile that was equal parts nervous, grateful, and deeply aroused. I reached out a hand to his broad, pale shoulder, easing my palm across the tight muscles that tensed under my touch. He sighed audibly, and before he could help himself, he leaned into my hand, ducking his head and pushing his cheek into my outstretched fingers. I allowed it for a moment, and then retraced my hand’s path across his back and stood up.
I couldn’t help but smile at my sub. He sat there, beyond eager but waiting for my cue. “I think it’s time you take a look at what I’ve found to dress up my favourite sissy slut tonight.” I directed him towards the La Senza bag, smirking when I saw his turgid cock twitch and watched him fight the urge to adjust himself. Here his training kicked in, and he knew to carefully unwrap each item from the bag and lay them on the couch for display. One by one, I watched my little slut boy unwrap pairs of pretty lace thongs, delicate chemises, garter belts, and the few pairs of thigh-high stockings I had picked out. As he pulled each new item out of the bag, I registered the small whimpers he thought he was hiding – I knew how this humiliated him, and how much that turned him on.
When the carrier bag was empty and the couch was decorated with colourful slips of lace and satin, slave T turned towards me and bowed his head, awaiting further instructions. Annoyed, I cocked an eyebrow – I’d gone to the trouble of personally selecting his wardrobe for the evening. He should be falling over himself to thank me. “Get on all fours. I’m going to warm up that ass with a spanking before you get dressed. Maybe then you’ll remember how to properly express your gratitude.” In the soft light of the room I saw his face flush red, but at the same time, his cock twitched.
I stood, lifting my glass of wine and taking a sip. Delicious. Perhaps I didn’t have to be too hard on him after all. I trailed a finger down his back, delighting in the way he shivered and the tiny moan that escaped his lips. I placed my wine glass on the mantle and smoothed my palm across his bare ass, cupping his cheek and watching it redden at the tips of my fingers. “Five smacks. You’ll thank me for each one, right?”. Slave T nodded his assent.
Slave T had been submitting to me for months, and like all of my favourite submissives, I had gotten to know his body and his desires almost better than he knew them himself. I knew the exact shade of pink his ass would get after the first few slaps. I knew that after thanking me, he’d blush and a bead of precum would appear at the tip of his cock. I knew that after five hard slaps, he’d be panting a little and perfectly pliable. Sure enough, when I delivered the last slap, he moaned loudly. “Thank you so much, Mistress. Your slave deserves your spanking. May I please kiss Mistress’ feet?”
I often allow my subs to kiss and worship my feet as a sign of respect and gratitude for my attention. While I slipped off my heels for T, I ran my hand across the smooth nylon encasing my foot. T had bought me these silk stockings a few weeks ago, and I admired them every time I put them on. I decided I would allow T to massage my silk covered feet while I decided what activity to start with. I sipped my wine and relaxed as T’s talented hands worked over my arches and up my shapely calves. Very quickly T became overwhelmed by the sight, feel, and smell of my feet and nylons. He bowed his head and kissed his way up each foot, pausing to tongue the arches. I feel his moan through my stockings and watched him shift to adjust as his erection grew. As he began to kiss up my left calf, I dropped my right foot and began to nudge at his cock. His breath caught in his throat as he felt my silky toes rub along his shaft. I laughed softly as I watched him pause to collect himself. Rising to my feet, I slipped my pumps back on and stepped away from the couch. Slave T rocked back on his heels and awaited further instructions.
I walked over to the large chest of drawers where I keep all of my kink toys and tools. I had a clean sheet waiting to cover the massage table. T didn’t know what I had in store for him, but I wanted to make sure cleaning up wouldn’t be a problem. I snapped my fingers to get his attention, and motioned for him to stand up. I chose a lacy black chemise and a matching thong, paired them with fishnet thigh-highs and open-toed pumps in his size. I passed them to him and took a seat on the edge of the massage table, sipping my wine while I watched him struggle into the skimpy lingerie. I stifled a laugh as he slipped when sliding on the fishnets, and we shared a smile as he righted himself and finished dressing.
When all of his feminine garments were in place, T stood tall with his hands behind his back – our signal that he was ready for my inspection. I placed my empty wine glass on the side table and grabbed a silk rope, sliding behind him and securing his wrists behind his back. He had no idea what was in store for him, but he tensed in anticipation, trusting me fully and silently begging for my attention. He knew this was a night he would never forget.
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