Eki 20

House Slave

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I ran into an old girlfriend, Meg.

As we chatted, she smirked, “Have you found a Mistress?”

I was a bit caught off guard, but this was why we split. I’d told her my of fantasies, and she wasn’t receptive, “I appreciate your honesty, admire your courage, you’re a great guy, but it’s just not my thing.”

And that was it; I didn’t see her for years.

I answered, “Not really; dabbled, but nothing that had long term potential.”

Meg was a beauty. Attracting men wasn’t the issue, but hadn’t found a keeper…

She smiled, “Something we have in common, neither of us will settle for just anyone.”

We began having lunches and dinners. Knowing there’d be no sex/romance, was freeing. We found, besides sex, we had much in common, and became valued friends and confidants. We hung out all the time.

We (mostly me) shared our sexual desires openly.

I told her I sought a Femdom relationship, where Mistress “forced” me into new experiences, especially feminization. Meg revealed she was pretty vanilla, but she appreciated my fantasy wish list. Perhaps not her cup of tea, but she allowed me my sexuality without judgement, which I really appreciated. Just being able to talk with a female about this stuff…it was huge for me.

“When fantasizing,” she asked, “Do you think of submission exclusively?”

I replied, “Yes. I am exclusively bound to my fetishes. I never think of sex in any other context.”

She continued, “You can only exist as a slave?”

I nodded, “I crave to exist as a slave. I’d need to have orgasms, in some manner, or it wouldn’t work for me, but I am a “slave” to my sexuality. I cannot enjoy sex unless I am in “slave-mode,” especially “sissy-slave-mode.”

She smiled, “Boys certainly do need to cum….even a sissy boy.”

She said, “I’ve been thinking about our relationship. You’re already submissive with me; and I’ve realized I like it. I’ve come to like being Dominant….at least with you.”

She continued, “When we’re at home, watching TV, and you massage my feet…I can tell you want to kiss them. Sometimes I feel you getting hard.”

Just hearing that got me hard! I asked, “How about you get your apartment cleaned by a “sissy-slave”. I’ll do it in femmy garb. I’ll “relieve” myself prior, so I can “serve” you, and not be hard the whole time.”

She smiled, “You’ll clean while in drag?”

I nodded, salivating. I’d be femmy in front of Meg!

She added, “I want to take photos.”

Surprised, I asked why?

She replied. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I like everything about you as my slave, except sex. I’m just not turned on by a feminized man…..but I think I’m ready to let you be my slave. If it doesn’t work for me, we’ll just go back to how it is now. In any event, photos give me additional power….of blackmail….”

I would gladly surrender to blackmail, or whatever else she wanted; I was thrilled!

“So you are taking me as your slave?”

She nodded, “Here’s a key. You start tomorrow, Saturday. 8:00am, let yourself in and start cleaning. Bring me coffee when I text you.”

I smiled, “Yes Mistress!”

As she walked away, she smiled back, “Be dressed…in your best!”

I was so excited! I washed my “intimates” that night.

Saturday morning, I showered and femmy-styled my (long-ish) hair, which I’d done in private many times. It was the only reason I had long hair; to be more Tuzla Escort femmy when I was cross-dressed.

I dressed at home. All black, my fav panties, a sheer bra with balloon boobies, camisole, and high heels. I kneeled in front of a full-length mirror, and jacked off, saying, “Yes, Mistress Meg,” over and over. I came in seconds.

I wore a raincoat to walk thru her parking lot, and let myself in Megs apartment…a self-tease, in that I was wearing heels. (From a distance, I could easily pass as a woman).

I put on coffee and started cleaning in the kitchen. Because Meg was sleeping, I had to be quiet. I minced around slowly, so my heels wouldn’t click. I wiped and dried her countertops, her range, and her cabinets. I found myself kneeling on her kitchen floor, a wet rag, and a dry towel, making it shine, saying to myself, “I can’t believe this is happening! Cleaning Meg’s floor…on my knees!”

My phone dinged, “I’ll have my coffee, light cream and sugar…NOW!”

Seconds later I tapped on her door, and entered, and dropped to my knees, and crawled, placing her coffee on her nightstand, I sat back on my haunches, “Your coffee, Mistress.”

She sat up, against the headboard, her thin sheets covering her breasts, she sipped her coffee, “Good morning slave. Stand up. Let’s see your outfit.”

I stood and she assessed me, “Are those water-balloons?”

I nodded.

“So, the knots look like nipples. Very creative.”

She continued, “No stockings? And hair on your legs? No make-up? We need to improve your presentation. This is an ok start, but you can, (and WILL), be so much prettier. Do you want to be prettier?”

I nodded, “Yes Mistress,” as she sipped her coffee.

She slipped a foot out from under the covers, and merely nodded at it.

My mouth went dry!

I dropped to my knees, and began kissing the foot, “Oh, Mistress! Thank you, Mistress! Thank you for taking me as your slave!” As I worshipped her foot.

She watched my devotion for a moment, and said “Refill,” holding her empty cup.

I returned with her coffee, and resumed my worship. I’d cum a short time ago, so my cock remained soft, but I was the most excited I’d ever been!

She finished her second cup, and hopped up to pee, wearing only panties.

I’d never seen her bare breasts! I swooned! She smiled, looking down upon her new slave. (We both knew I’d be her slave for life).

I remained in place, on my knees, hands upturned on my thighs, while she peed. She walked back into her bedroom, wearing only panties, and walked right up to me, her pussy inches from my face, “This is what you want, right?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Kiss,” she said, “Kiss my pussy.”

As I kissed her panties, she said, “Look up at me.”

Our eyes locked, as I worshipped her panty-covered pussy, “I’m enjoying this more that I’d thought,” a thin smile, as she relished her devoted slave kissing her panties, “Let’s go over your duties.”

She headed out of the bedroom, still wearing panties and pulling on a thin camisole…she was SOOO sexy!

I followed on my knees…she took note…looking down at her slave, willingly kneeling, she smiled, “Nice.”

I could read her mind, she was realizing, “This is new to me, but he’s been imagining slave-mode for years…this could be fun.”

She was regal, dictating my chores: wipe with wet cloth and dry…every surface, especially Gebze Escort her vanity top, (which held countless bottles of fem-products beyond my scope of knowledge), floors, carpets, laundry, it went on and on; and as she dictated, I replied, “Yes Mistress,” to every dictate.

It would take hours…maybe days.

A couple times, she commented on my feminization, “This is so lame! You could be such a pretty girl”…and she’d trail off in thought.

I cleaned while she spent a while in her bathroom.

She came out, “Strip off all your clothes”…muttering to herself, “they look ridiculous.”

I stripped on the spot, and dropped back to my knees.

She seemed to not notice my penis, or my naked body, for that matter, “Follow me.”

We entered her bathroom and her tub was full of water, “Get in and start shaving. Everything from the neck down.”

I was in shock! People would see my shaved legs! I hesitated, “NOW!”

I jumped. She’d never raised her voice to me.

My life flashed before my eyes, and I crawled in, and started on my legs, while she walked out.

“I’m done, Mistress,” and she returned,

“Stand up. Let’s see. Hand me the razor,” as she started on my ass cheeks, “You missed a few spots,” and soon I was totally hairless.

My cock hung softly, not even stirring. She was Authoritative, while I felt so small, like a little boy.

“Ok,” she said, “Shower off.”

I emerged from the shower, and she was in her bedroom, sorting thru piles of lingerie, “Let’s see what works for you.”

I tried on panty after panty, cami after cami, nighties, petticoats, skirts, tops…it went on and on. I started getting hard and she paid no attention, and I went soft again. She was playing dress-up, playing “dolls”, so to speak. I was actually becoming bored with it all, wishing I could just get on with my cleaning.

She seemed unhappy with my feminization, muttering as we progressed, to herself, as if I was a (living) mannequin. Finally she handed me a black thong panty, “Put this on, and your heels.”

She sat on the couch, her nipples protruding thru her cami…I sensed she was a bit excited as she surveyed me…”I prefer you standing. Unless I tell you to kneel, I want you standing. You look more like a girl.”

For the first time, she acknowledged my penis, “Can you do something with that? Make it smaller?”

I pulled it between my legs, as I’d done a thousand times before, dreaming of such a scenario, “Like this?”

She exclaimed, “YES! Keep it like that!”

She stood, “Get back to work; I’m going out.”

It was hours before she returned, with shopping bags in hand, “You’re filthy. Go take another shower.”

When I emerged, all her shopping bags were on the bed…women’s clothing.

“Try this on,” she ordered, and I submitted.

These items fit perfectly; the (thong) panties, camisoles, skirts, tops…like they were made for me. I thought, “How did she know? How could she select women’s clothing to fit me so perfectly?”

And last, a black bodice; spaghetti shoulder straps, breast forms…it hooked up in the back, and compressed my tummy, and stopped just above my penis, with garter straps dangling. Next came thigh-high hose, Meg attached them, my penis just inches from her face, and she ignored it completely. Next was my black thong panties, then my heels, and she sat on the couch, assessing her Aydınlı Escort “project”, “Turn around. Nice!”

“Follow me,” as she headed to the bathroom.

I sat on the toilet, and she began my make-up.

I should have been rock hard, but she had a way of making me feel like a non-human, a toy doll.

She plucked my eyebrows, and spent a half hour applying makeup, and then a bit of styling my hair, and finally she smiled, “Done! Follow me.”

I glanced at myself in the mirror and was SHOCKED!

I was no longer a man…I should have felt excited, but I felt emasculated. My cock was tiny in my panties. I was WAY more a woman than man.

Out came her phone, and she started taking photos, and giving instructions, “Hide your thingy,” referring to my penis, I pulled it between my legs. It was so soft, It barely made a sissy-bump.

She instructed, “Bend your knee…push out your butt…head back…on and on, at least fifty photos. Then she sat on a chair with her feet on a footstool, and said, “Worship.”

I wanted to rebel…this thing had gone way off the tracks!

…………I submitted; I did not hesitate. I knew, if she had to raise her voice a second time, it’d have serious consequences.

I kissed the feet of my Mistress, looking her in the eyes, speaking in my best female voice, “Oh, Mistress! Thank you for taking me as your slave! Thank you for feminizing me! She videoed it all, muttering, “…..something….see her dance…”

I shuttered at the thought, being made to dance!

Then she raised her ass up from the chair, “Remove my skirt.” Then, “Now my panties. Go get the razor.”

I returned with the razor, “Get to work.”

I’d never seen her pussy!

Now, instead of a movie script beautiful, orgasmic ending, I was shaving her.

I was seeing her folds, up close and personal, but there was nothing sexual about it! Somehow, I was even further emasculated! I carefully shaved, careful not to nick, careful to get every hair; it took my utmost attention and concentration.

I finished with a wet washcloth and then dried her, “Finished Mistress.”

She smiled, “Nice. Now Kiss! Kiss my pussy!”

After a moment of kissing, she said, “Go get my Avea lotion.”

I liberally applied the lotion. She stood, and we went to her bed, and she laid back, massaging her breasts thru her top, instructed me on how to massage her pussy, “Up and down. More pressure…more on my clit….up and down my slit….now fingers….inside me….easy….kiss….kiss my clit!” And she came! She grabbed my head and forced it hard on her clit, grinding my lips…hard, as she growled in orgasm.

I was hard! I wanted to cum!

Instead, she had me lay next to her, and we surveyed the photos and videos.

She posted them on a popular site…as I watched.

No one could tell it was me, but we’d crossed a line I’d have never imagined, and it’d only been one day of slave-mode. I lightly stroked my cock the entire time, “Mistress, can I cum?”

“I don’t want to see that now. You can once you get home. I want you to drive home like this, feminized. I never dreamed I would so enjoy feminizing a man. And you make such a cute woman. I want us to go out like this.”

She stood up and got me a top and a skirt, “Let’s fix your makeup, then I’ll walk you to the car.”

In broad daylight, we walked toward my car, and I had no fear, I looked 100% female. She’d thrown on a sheer, loose top and short skirt, sans panties.

At my car, I sat in my drivers seat, and Meg leaned in, and kissed me full on the lips…our first kiss!

As I pulled away, I saw her in my mirror; she wore a pleasant smile…as did I.

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