A Submissive Sissy

Here you'll find my favorites Sissy & Femdom stories, the best one I've ever read over the net since many years and believe me, that's a lot ! I'm also a wool fetishist, so you may come accross this type of topic around here too... Hope you'll like it !

Sian Seteyan

The Pet

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It happens again and again. You are leading your life, parking your car, getting dressed - when suddenly you are on all fours, a collar around your neck, reduced from human being to some sort of animal. Sure you snap back, reality reasserts itself - but the after images are almost too much:

You are curled up in my pile of furs. The only sound that reaches you through the elaborate latex harness you wear, is your own labored breathing - as you try to swallow around the ball gag. You don't know what time it is, what day. Or even if it is day or night. Your owners should be home soon, and hopefully they will take you out and play with you. Maybe even take the chains off. The collar attached to your neck is locked with a tiny padlock. The chain that attaches you to the wall, that is locked to another padlock. The angora and mohair mittens, they are locked on at the wrist, and they are somehow tied to the matching sweater that cloys to your body. The fibers of the sweater, a mix of grey and black, feels so much like your skin, your pelt that you have forgotten where one starts and the other ends. An opaque body stocking wraps your legs in shiny grey nylon and the red ballet heels are locked on as well. Finally the elaborate corset is also locked on, at the back and at the crotch. You try to make yourself more comfortable in the pile of fur coats. Your room is only six by six, but it is comfortable. Your body tenses as you hear a car drive by, but it does not stop, does not pull in to the manicured driveway - the normal suburban house upstairs remains dark. You glance once more at your image in the mirror, and once again - for the hundreth time, you feel your heart beat faster - your cock stir beneath all the layers. And there - right above the mirror - are the keys - hanging on a hook. The keys to all the locks, to the door, to the collar. Your could free yourself anytime. But you are an animal. You are a kept animal - a pet - and it has been so long since you stood up, like a person, that the thought passes right through your beaautiful head.. Another car passes, and this one turns in the drive. You hear the garage door open. You heart races. They are home...

*

I awake with a start - the dream so real I can still taste the latex, feel the angora. My cock stays hard while I piss, and try to clear my head. As I brush my teeth I notice the collar. Still locked around my neck.

How did this happen? Las Vegas, that hotel, the girls, and the man with the leashes. That was real, wasn't it? I know I had gone to Las Vegas, for work, I checked in to the new Mandala Hotel – I remember…

I remember watching that first girl walk through the lobby - elegant - tall - the picture of a model or a showgirl. Her walk was graceful and haughty. Red lips framed by a $200 haircut. The way her heels clacked against the lobby granite. I was sure she saw me staring but I couldn't help myself. She was already at the elevator, when she turned towards me, and her fur coat - a short mink halfcoat - fell open. Under the coat was an angora sweater - thick and bunched at the neck, sleek and fuzzy down her torso. It was pink-ish, like a frosted red - and was offset by a wide grey belt of leather, which matched her leather miniskirt. Her outfit hit me like a dozen martinis. And without thinking about it, I walked towards her. I waited with her, by the elevator, and then when it arrived, I got on.

I could barely breathe, as I stood just behind her, watching the fur and angora move with her breathing. She glanced at me once, then looked back up at the numbers. I glanced up – we were between floors – a red X glowed on the digital floor readout. But where were we going? Was this a private elevator? Staff? How would I explain my presence – should I try to get out on a different floor? My heart beat faster. Her voice brought me back around:

“Are you an owner, or…?” Her voice was harsh, Southern Californian, completely out of context with her jewel – like appearance. I was so shocked I just shook my head.

“Omigod. Are you, like, one of the male, whatchmacallits? Who’s your –“

The door chimed, we were there, the floor was P3 – she looked over her shoulder nervously.

“Maybe I will see you out there – I mean it’s pretty weird right?”

The door slid open – directly onto a suite, with big windows and an entryway. She leaned in conspiratorily, I could feel the fur, see the fibers on her sweater.

“I just do it for the money, I mean, I signed the contract, but I’m not, like-“

“Ah Jessie.”

She blanched at the voice behind her – her heavily-mascaraed eyes fluttering under her elaborate bangs. She went from garish Valley Gitl, back to statuesque beauty as she turned around. A man stood there, a business man, he was maybe fifty, graying temples. Affable voice. He looked like that actor, Tom Skerrit. But there was something completely different about him – something twisted, powerful, like a crooked cop who knows he has you when he pulls you over.

“You know the rules Jessie, you do not have a voice up here. That was in the contract. I could hear you all the way up, yammering away.”

He stepped onto the elevator, and casually flipped the red STOP switch. It locked the elevator in place. HE looked at me critically – trying to decide what my role was in this. I could not speak – now I was scared. Then he did the most incredible thing, he stepped forward, and slipped a collar around Jessie’s neck, a big leather collar – and then pulled a leash out of his suitcoat pocket. I looked at him, at her. ‘Jessie’, she was looking straight ahead, but I could feel her humiliation. The color in her cheeks deepened.

I panicked. “I..I actually got on here by mistake, I thought this was my floor.”

The businessman stopped what he was doing, but only for an instant. There was a loud click as he snapped the leash onto her collar. “A stray, huh?” Jessie looked at me, her eyes big. I could not tell if she was angry or scared.

“You obviously followed Jessie. She is amazingly attractive is she not – in her furs and that sweater?” He ran a hand along her waist, and Jessie sucked in her breath, her tits swelling beneath the soft angora. I swept a hand across my forehead, feeling terrifically hot suddenly. “Aren’t you curious to see what it is all about, why she is here?”

I looked at him. He was smiling, his voice still calm. “Come on in, have a drink,” he said as he turned around and walked back into his suite. Jesse followed on her leash – the chain almost taut between them. And I followed. Why did I follow? Was it Jessie’s ass moving sinuously under her leather miniskirt? Was it that image of her breasts under that soft sweater? Or was I pulled along by that leash, like it was attached to me? Certainly my own private demons, my fetishes and hidden desires – they all were lined up behind me – pushing me.

Whatever the reason I followed them in, past the entryway, into a sunken living room flooded with sofas. Jessie sat on the floor next to one, her stockinged legs folded under her, her eyes down. The businessman moved behind another to a small bar, filling two glasses with ice.

“Bourbon alright?”

I nodded, and stood on the edge of the living room, feeling uncomfortable. The carpeting matched the upholstery, which matched the incredible dark wood coffee table in the center of the sunken living room – it looked thick enough to hold up an elephant. I could not find my voice. I tried to act non-chalant, but my eyes kept coming back to Jessie. The chain from the leash gleamed on the sofa next to her. Was she a slave? A hooker?

“Here you go.” The businessman handed me my drink, and smiled down at Jessie. “She is lovely. Especially in those clothes.” He sipped at his bourbon, and looked at me again. “Now you didn’t see the ad in the paper?” I shook my head. “But you are a guest here at the hotel?” I nodded. The businessman smiled. He never asked my name. He laughed instead: “You hear that Jessie, your friend talks less than you do. You could learn something from him.” Jessie barely moved. “Which reminds me.”

He walked away from me, but gestured at the sofa, telling me to sit down. I followed his suggestion, sitting across from Jessie. I think I felt responsible for getting her in trouble, but she did not seem to notice my presence. I drank deep, trying to calm down. I mean, I had seen shit like this on the internet. I wasn’t completely innocent. I had my own…perversions.

I stared again at the tight-waisted fur coat, the many colors of the animal pelt blended perfectly with Jessie’s own hair. Why did she look like an animal, down there on the floor, despite, her high heels, the manicured nails? I shifted on the plush sofa as I felt my cock stir. How did I end up here, I thought, as I sucked at my drink.

The businessman returned with an elaborate bunch of leather belts in his hand, I thought it was a bridle at first. Then I noticed the rubber ball, and I realized what it was.

“Stand up Jessie, and take off that coat.” She did as commanded, and then she glanced at me, very quickly. She was angry. The eye-shadow gathered over her dark yes like storm clouds. I watched the coat fall to the sofa, watched the sweater move with her body, with her thin waist, and enormous tits, or maybe the sweater made her look bustier than she was, I didn’t know. I must have sighed, or drawn a deep breath, because the business man was smiling at me, like he knew how I felt.

He gestured to the oakblock coffee table, and with practiced ease Jessie climbed onto the table, on all fours. Like a tiger posing at the circus. Her head was up, but she was facing away from me. I could see the garters on her stockings, disappearing up beneath the leather skirt. Her tits hung down, held in by the soft, soft sweater. The business man moved the leash to one side and busied himself with the leather harness. One minute later Jessie was locked in to an elaborate ball-gag harness. During the entire procedure she did not move from her position, on all fours, squatting on that table.

“Now we can talk,” the businessman said. He walked behind Jessie, still immobile, her head up. The words ‘doggy-style’ kept running through my head. Now the leather mini-skirt was riding way up her ass, and I could see her garters stretched tight, the dark patch between her legs.

“I can tell this is exciting to you,” he said, “seeing her like this. And the only reason I did not call security is that I think you may be of some use to me.”

At the word ‘security’ I snapped around, and looked instead at the business man. He was still smiling, still affable. But I suddenly felt..scared. I didn’t feel like this guy was threatening me physically, I mean I am not a big guy, but I keep in shape, it wasn’t physical confrontation that worried me. He was intimidating on some other level. I stood up, ready to leave. I made some excuses, tried to move towards the elevator. But the businessman, he wouldn’t have it. He took me by the arm, said he wanted to show me one thing.

“Just one thing,” he said.

As he spoke, he reached out his free hand and gently moved Jessie’s skirt higher, revealing more. Her panties were black. Black angora.

The businessman led me up some stairs, tucked out of sight in the entryway, and up to a second level. This was a grand suite, this guy must have some serious money - I remember thinking that. He walked me into a room lined with mirrors, and it took me a second to realize it was a walk-in closet. Enormous. As big as some people’s bedrooms. He flipped one of the mirrored doors open, and revealed a second door, a metal door with a central lock. It looked like a safe, it was that sturdy, but the businessman fished out a key and opened the door without explaining anything. And inside, hanging on pegs, there were three leashes. The leather looked old, the chains a burnished brass. And attached to each leash was a collar, all slightly different, all obviously the work of a master craftsman.

“This is where it started,” he said, fingering the leashes. “Beautiful aren’t they?”

I nodded. I was getting anxious again. I looked at the leashes, and could just make out some sort of greek letter on one collar. An E of some kind. As if in response, the businessman took it down from the peg. “Eros”, he said, “go ahead, take a look at it.” He handed it to me, and I fingered the leather – every inch was inscribed with an embossed design, very subtle. I looked closer – trailing my fingers around the collar. It was closed, and I noticed the hook and eye locked in the shape of a heart. That was when I started to feel it, some sort of warmth. Welling up in me. Like the way you feel when you drink that first cocktail, but much more. I started to feel warm, I started to want something. It was hazy, but I suddenly did not feel anxious. I liked the businessman. I liked everything about this place.

He smiled at me, and I think I even blushed. “Here,” he said, “look at this one.” He handed me the next, it was a bit darker than the first, and I remember feeling sad that I had to give the first back. This one also had a greek letter, delta maybe. “Doulos”, he said. I had no idea what that meant until later. This one was exquisitely detailed, tiny human bodies, intertwined around the collar, and as I looked closer, I could have sworn they were moving, moving, writhing. The businessman took the leash end, while I stared at the collar in my hands. The tiny people continued to move.

“Put it on,” he said. And I had no choice. Worse, I did not even think about my choices. I just pulled the collar around my neck, and slid one end of the latch into the hook. It clicked with a dry sound. I wobbled on my feet. The businessman smiled. “So, am I right, are you a bitch underneath all that? “ I looked at him, dazed. Words seemed impossible. “Just nod, you little cunt. Are you a crossdresser, a girl with a dick?” I opened my mouth and nothing came out. I tried to shake my head, but could not. “I recognized that look in your eye. Are you a girl inside?”

I nodded, admitting to this stranger what I never had told anyone. “And you liked Jessie’s clothes, am I right?” I nodded again. “Well,” he said, “those are my clothes. I bought those for her. And I have more.”

He reached out and took my wallet out of my sportcoat. He looked at my driver’s license, and then pulled my keycard. I couldn’t do anything. I didn’t want to do anything.

“Hmmph. You look normal enough, you little cunt. No one would ever know.” I just stood there, taking it, waiting for something. Waiting for him, waiting…

“Take off your clothes, and get on your knees. You are going to be my guest for a little while.”

That was what I was waiting for. I took my clothes off, stripped naked, and got down on all fours as he asked. Whatever he asked. After all he was holding my leash. I was not going anywhere. Not unless he took me.

“Leela, get in here.” His words seemed a lot less mannered now. Not that I cared, I was insensate. He carefully locked the other leash away, leaving two behind.

He tugged me forward and I followed, my dick swinging half hard between my naked legs. The businessman had not even reacted to my smooth body, that fact that I was shaved all over. Maybe he expected as much. I used to make excuses, tell people I was a swimmer. This guy did not care. To him I was an animal…