tagBDSMA Sissy Maid is Born Ch. 01

A Sissy Maid is Born Ch. 01

bycatalina_francisco©

The soft darkness of the blindfold caressed his face, as he lay curled on the damp concrete of the barn where he had been ordered to stay. The cold surface beneath him penetrated his skin, crept into his flesh seeping through to the bone, chilling him as surely as the thoughts that flooded his brain as to what was going to become of him. Storm knew in his more rational moments that he had nothing to fear, knew he had dreamed and wished for this day for what seemed forever, but still the power of the unknown exercised its elusive and pervading power over his mind, causing him to seesaw between dread and pure elation at all the scenarios his anticipation conjured in his imagination.

There was no need for bonds, no need to immobilize him in his captive state. His own desire had already achieved what mere bonds could never do, that being to lay his life at the feet of the one he dreamed of serving, the one who would determine his fate, control his future, choose or discard that which he had so willingly surrendered. Laying in the darkness awaiting that moment, he noticed how acute his senses had become. The smell of the remnants of old hay filled his nostrils, the slight moldiness of it's odour settling in his nose and throat, a warm and suffocating sensation. Each sound was accentuated, the song of the birds outside shrill and louder than ever he remembered, his own heartbeat thumping and pounding to keep his body fed of its lifeblood. His eardrums ached from straining to pick up the sound of anything else he might find familiar, anything to give him a sign he would soon know what was to become of him.

Almost as if summoning thought into action, Storm heard the creaking of hinges on the old barn door, felt the momentary freshness of cool air as it blew in from outside to chill his body further, smelt the mixture of other aromas from the outside world...flowers, fields turned and laying fallow, freshly cut grass, and somewhere distant the smell of cooking wafting on the breeze. He breathed deeply, partly out of relief, partly out of need to clear his head, and partly out of some inborn instinct as if from another time, another place. Just as quickly the door crashed shut, the dropping of the steel latch emphasising his position, his helplessness, the air once again stale and close. He heard the magnified click of the heels as they crossed the concrete floor of the empty barn, slow and deliberate, each moment bringing their owner closer but still invisible as he lay in the blackness that he had been cast into with the earlier fastening of the blindfold across his eyes.

His breathing grew shallow and short as he laid waiting, his nakedness feeling both thrilling and embarrassing, vulnerable and affirming. The tumultuous emotions he had tumbling inside his head and body threatened to overwhelm him. The tip of a long leather coat brushed tentatively along his back, touching first one spot then disappearing briefly only to touch another as the wearer strolled slowly around his body. He heard the breath of another, felt the unseen gaze of appraising eyes skimming his body, the point of a leather clad foot pushing his legs higher up against his chest exposing him in a way he had only ever dreamt about. His muscles felt taut from the cold and so little activity in the preceding hours, his nerves raw. Too soon the footsteps moved away, stopped, and let silence envelop them.

"Crawl!!" he heard a husky, deep, but definitely female voice order. Unsure of what was expected of him he hesitated a moment. "Crawl to me, now!!" the words echoed in the cavernous space, loud and chilling, leaving no room for hesitation. Rolling onto his belly, he raised himself onto hands and knees and began to crawl in the direction of the voice he had just heard. "Stop you fool!" What had he done wrong, and so soon? "When you crawl to me I expect you to keep your belly to the floor where you belong...don't assume you may rise higher in my presence unless I tell you to...understood?"

"Yes Mistress," he answered in a shaky voice as he flattened out and began his journey once again to the feet of the one who he hoped was his destiny, Mistress Arrabella. The concrete was rough and grazed his virgin flesh, sharp sticks of hay stabbing him as he disturbed their surface. Despite the discomfort he felt a warmth glowing from deep inside him, a desire to please growing by the moment. As his face came into contact with the tip of her boots he stopped and waited. Nudging him slightly under the chin, she raised one booted foot using the tip to pry open his mouth.

"Good', he heard her almost whisper as she stepped back slightly from his body, 'lick my boots clean my little dog." His tongue, at first tentatively, began to lick as ordered, the taste bitter and smooth on his tongue. As his confidence grew, so did his dedication to the task at hand, licking every inch and crevice to what he hoped she would think was perfection. "That will do for now...I can see you will need quite a bit of training in this area before we can take you out on show?" His spirit plummeted in disappointment but soon rallied with a determination to show her he could be all she needed to please her.

He felt a soft hand caress the side of his face as she slipped the blindfold off, a heady perfume filling his nostrils. "Keep your eyes closed!" she ordered. He didn't dare disobey and stayed riveted, eyes shut tightly against any hint of light or vision. "Good...now kneel in front of me, hands behind your back." Rising to his knees, Storm knelt as ordered, the scent of her filling his senses. He trembled at the thought of how close he was to the one he had admired so long. He felt her step back a little as she instructed him to open his eyes. Slowly he opened them, careful to keep his gaze averted, focused on the dirty floor he knelt upon.

"Look up," she commanded. "Look at me." His eyes lifted to take in his first vision of the one to whom he had sworn his devotion. Tall and statuesque, Mistress Arrabella stood before him clad in a full length leather coat, the hem coming to rest on the floor. Its softness caressed her curves, the swell of her breasts gently rising over the top of the neckline, the skirt hanging teasingly open to reveal her naked and shaven pussy, the line of the skirt perfectly framing the beauty that nestled there and the length of curving thighs above the leather boots. Despite his best efforts, his male desire could not resist gazing a little longer than respectful at her sex, his own cock providing visible evidence of the pleasure he found in such a view. He blushed as he dragged his eyes away to gaze up into her flawless face, her eyes dancing fleetingly at his dilemma before veiling to once more display their steely resolve to tame and possess this one who knelt before her.

"You may look...in fact I demand you look and etch every curve and fold into your mind, as you will serve her and me well, and you will know the pleasure and pain of the power I command over you through your weakness for my attention. Already I can see you are under my spell, longing to serve me in whatever way I demand just so you can know a moment's pleasure between my thighs."

Storm opened his mouth to protest, but knew his lies would be easily seen for what they were, pitiful denial. He cringed at her laughter as she read his mind, sensed how his male pride demanded he protest, while his submissive heart bade him into silence. Grabbing his head by a tuft of hair, she cruelly twisted the hair around her fingers as she pulled his mouth toward her soft cunt. The aroma of her filled his being, the first taste of her searing through him like an electric shock as she pushed her open lips onto his mouth, ordered him to kiss and caress her with lips and tongue, grinding her flesh into his face. Almost before he began, she pulled away and pushed him backward to the floor, coming to stand astride his prostrate form as his eyes looked up between thighs he already knew had enslaved him mind, body, and soul.

Stepping across him, Arrabella began to slowly walk around him as he lay on his back on the floor, wondering what it was she planned to do with him next. He knew what he would have liked, but just as surely knew that was most likely a hopeless dream right now, and a remnant of an unfulfilled life. Truthfully, if she had read his thoughts and accommodated his desires she would not have been the one he thought she was, nor one he could serve and honour as he found he did. To deny him his greatest desires, make him work for what he needed, was to feed a need so deep inside him even he had been afraid to acknowledge and free it for many years.

"I have plans for my slave. Great plans which will I am sure challenge even your devotion." Crouching down beside him, her face close to his, her eyes commanding his vision, she whispered into his face as she caressed, then slapped its warmth under her fingers. "You see, I desire the opportunity to make my possession into a sissy maid for the use of myself and others." She saw the fear and uncertainty creep into his eyes as she spoke, her fingernail sharp and cutting slowly drawing a line from chest to belly on her property. "Let me show you what your fate entails," she purred as she rose to her feet, ordering him to stand before her.

From a bag she had brought with her, she withdrew a rope. Crossing to her silent possession, she loped the rope, then passed it around his balls as they hung vulnerable and naked. Pulling the rope tightly, he felt the pressure as it made his flesh bulge and form a firm ball separated from body mass. Next she teasingly drew the rope up to encircle his cock, making more loops, more knots, until his captured balls were pulled up to join an equally tortured cock in common bondage. The sensations were both pleasure and pain, even more so as she tied the rope behind his neck and began to hit his appendage with a crop. Storm struggled to remain still and silent, her pleasure at his pain evident in the smile that played across her lips every now and then, the biting of her lip as she examined his package for visible proof of her attention. He sucked his breath in sharply as she held the total of his manhood in her cool hand and squeezed as tightly as she could, more than he had ever endured or thought possible.

"See how pretty my pet can look if we just confine these dangly bits a little, make them a little neater?" He could feel her heat as she stood close to him, caressing and striking alternately, watching his eyes for the pain she knew he was feeling. Dropping her hand from his flesh, she turned to take something else from the bag. Facing him again he saw it was a maid's outfit, the skirt full and layered with lace underskirts to make it stand out, the apron trimmed in more lace, its pristine white in stark contradiction of the black of the outfit's fabric. "Put it on," she ordered.

Storm felt a myriad of emotions run through him at her order. He dare not disobey, but fear gripped him, causing his stomach to knot and his normally strong legs to shake just a little. Just as palpable as the fear was his excitement, which made his head spin and his cock try to burst out of its confines, the pressure adding new depth to his pain. Slipping the uniform over his head it surprised him at how well it fit his body, his Mistress stepping forward in her impatience to zip him up.

"There, don't you look pretty?" Pretty was not something he was accustomed to being described as and once again he felt the uncomfortable flip-flop in the bottom of his belly. "We won't bother with stockings and heels for our little game today, but they will become a necessary to your wardrobe all too soon," she purred. While trying to get used to the skirt which stood almost horizontal from his waist, the layers of petticoats holding its weight and tickling his butt, he felt the blindfold slip over his eyes again, and her hand leading him across the floor. Taking his hands, she guided them to a post upon which she ordered him to lean and stabilise himself. Doing as ordered, Storm felt controlled and vulnerable, afraid and excited. Her booted foot spread his feet apart as he felt her hand lift his petticoats and something hard and cold nudge his arse cheeks. Clenching instinctively, he tightened his butt.

"Relax bitch!" he heard her demand, her breath hot against his neck. As he struggled to relax, he felt a wetness being rubbed between his cheeks, seeking that hole that no one had ever invaded. Almost instantly he felt the pressure of a strap on pushing him to open. As much as he wanted to please he found it impossible to obey. Pushing forcefully, she took that which belonged to her and which he knew he could not keep from her. Unbidden he screamed in his pain as he felt the cock going deeper and spreading him open for her pleasure and amusement. She chuckled in delight as she played with her new toy, made him realise he was now hers, her property, her possession. Plunging deeper, she possessed him, as he never imagined in his wildest fantasies. The pain searing through him like a hot knife, his head light from the torture she delivered, he struggled to maintain his balance. He thought it would bring relief when she withdrew, but he was wrong. Not only did he feel the pain of freshly torn flesh, but he felt the humiliating shame of knowing he wanted her to take him again, to make him her bitch, to use him and abuse him at her will.

"Oh my poor pet, you're bleeding!!" Storm didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so chose silence instead. "Never mind," she purred, "We will make you wider and more user friendly in time. After all, I want my maid to be able to service the desires of anyone who wishes to use him, both guests and clients, and there will be plenty who will be wanting to sample him." The meaning of her words sent a chill through him. He had never imagined she would ever use him this way, nor sell his services to others. Despite the shame he felt, the degradation he knew awaited him, he knew he could never be free again, nor did he wish to be...and this in itself brought a fresh mixture of delight and humiliation, as he stood braced against the post, used and bloody, awaiting his Mistress's next command.

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bycatalina_francisco© 5 comments/ 68962 views/ 2 favorites

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by Anonymous

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by Anonymous07/29/14

A good start

This is a great start but leaves me wanting much more. I wonder if it would have been better to further develop the story before publishing so little of it. But perhaps the author is teasing us....

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