How To Be A Boi Bitch Lesson 08bygothicboibitch©
I already told you this before, my darlings, but it bears repeating. And remembering. Always. Clothes control the cock. And it's time for me to show it to you. And you've already waited for it so long, haven't you? Silk! Satin! Lace! Leather! Rubber! Vinyl! Fur! And while I prefer leather, vinyl of rubber for boots, the rest of my body wants everything!
And that is the problem, my darlings.
You cannot have everything. Not at the same time. It's gluttony. Your ensembles have to be carefully chosen. And while your style may vary, only sissies storm into the nearest women's department store and scarf down panties and bras, stockings and straps. They cannot control themselves, even there. Especially there. Leaking sissy clits the moment they see something that triggers that desire to be submissive. Because that's how deep down they see women. That's how they want to be. Submissive. Slaves. They collect their panties and soil them. Sniff them. Eat them. Lick up their own cum, left from furious masturbation and delightfully dirty delusions.
For a bitch, my darlings, especially for the boi bitch, each ensemble is a sign of dominance.
They are not necessarily feminine, but always glamorous.
And you will have to grow into them, as they become your new skin. Soft and silky. Hardened and rubberised. Just like boots encase your feet and your calves, the rest of your ensemble encases your soul. Over time, you will find your own style. As you become your own dress up doll. Changing your image. Refining it. Feeling it seep into you. As you seep into it. Until you and your clothes become one.
Right now, however, you are just about to make the first steps. And they will be baby steps.
Expanding slowly into your new world.
And that is why we will start with the basics.
And for a gothic boi bitch, the basics consist of what, my darlings?
The suit. That's right. We'll leave the skirts to women (until we are completely comfortable or go to a fetish ball), and if I ever see you in a sunflower dress, my darlings, you won't need to worry about your wife or girlfriend. You'll have to worry about me. I will claw your eyes out.
The suit is versatile. Wearable. And can be glamorous. If it is the right suit. I'm not talking about the unassuming pieces of cloth that they make your wear in your office, suspenders that hold your pants up, garish striped shirts that rape the eye.
I'm talking about a suit made for femme bois.
My own basic suit is what is known as a Gothic Corporate Business Suit. I bought it at Dracinabox. Google it. Find it. Love it like I do. And while it is made for a woman and comes with a gorgeously cut skit that has slits to show off my calves and legs all the way up to the shape of my ass, I can also combine it with pants and overcoats, depending on my mood and what I side of me I want to show off.
PVC bondage pants! Love, love, love them! The tighter, the better. Straps of leather that bind my thighs, while boots bind my feet. And if I am going out, you can never go wrong with a Crow style fetish t-shirt that makes your upper body look like it's been sculpted in rubber.
Corsets and waist cinches are a must as well. They control my breathing, my hunger, while constantly fuelling my desire. Constricted, restricted, free. They make my breath shallow, each one sucking in just enough. And when I smoke, the density of smoke versus oxygen makes everything so much more potent. Makes every exhale thick and white and beautiful as it leaves me, undiluted by air. Making men watch me. And women wanting to be me.
But you are not there yet. Just thinking about these things make you nervous. Excited, yes, but nervous as well. Thinking about them lets the energy travel from your mind, through your heart and into your cock.
You are not there yet. You will be soon. Very soon, my darlings. I promise.
But first we have to expand your heart and soul.
While we get your waistline down. Inch by inch.
Because everything about a bitch is tight, my darlings. Our cunts are. Our bodies must be as well.
And that is why you will start to work out. Before you will go shopping. You will watch what you eat. Just like your wife, you girlfriend do. Because to be a bitch doesn't come for free. There's a price to be paid, my darlings. And if Winston Churchill said that the price of freedom is eternal vigilance, well... the price of becoming a bitch is eternal vigilance as well.
And don't you complain. It's what women do. Every day. Since they turned from pig-tailed annoyances of our youth into the cat-like and catty creatures you have prowled. Did you think it was easy for them? Looking at fashion magazines. And desiring to be like those glam girls that you panted over when you were still straight?
Calories counted. Coming into their own.
For your cock.
And all the cock that preceded yours.
And those you will share in the future.
You will join a gym. And not to bulge up. To slim down. In all the right places. Oh, don't make such a sour face, my darling. Think about how much fun a gym will be! If it's the right gym. If it is filled with bulky, sweaty men. Biceps and triceps bulging in front of you as you are on your treadmill. Running, so you can finally strut. Make it a real man's gym. That's how I did it. Torturing myself in more ways than one. Watching their shaved heads. Their short shorts, rolling up just the right amount as they did their reps. Sweat and curses. Smells that will overpower you. And make you delirious with lust. Quick glances to those spots of their bodies that I wanted. Craved. While they moaned. As their muscles unloaded their energy. Thrust weights up into the air with raw power. Watching them will be so much fun, my darlings.
It will train you, in more ways than one.
As you lose the fat. As you become tighter. Your ass muscles flexing, your calves shaping up.
And while you squirt water from your bottle into your mouth.
Wishing it was their cum. All of those men around you. I dreamed about it. Day dreams in delirium. How they would circle around me. How their cocks would all be mine. My fingers stroking them. Their sweat, now belonging to me. Their muscles twitching because of me. As I went through them. Taking them all. One by one. In my mouth. Waiting their turn. To fill it. To spray their cum into it. And on my face. And my body.
Oh, darlings, I love them to cum on my face. I love how it drips down from my skin. My cheeks and down my neck. I love how it sticks to me. Black and white. It doesn't matter. As long as the cum is strong and salty and mine.
That's what I want you to think of. That's what I want you to know.
If a bitch is tight, their cocks will come to you.
Sooner or later.
And once you are in shape, we will go shopping for you.
(9) TO BE A BITCH IS TO DRESS FOR SUCCESS
And now, the suit. I want you to find yourself a glamorous one. A tight one. Preferably cut in a 1920s or 1930s style. Black or pinstripe. Nothing else. A white shirt to go with it. Not a normal shirt, my darlings. A tuxedo shirt. Since this will be your first ensemble, darlings, your choice is my choice. You still belong to me, my darling. And I want you to look gorgeous. For me. For yourself. For all the men you will fuck. And for your wife, your girlfriend.
Because you will date her again.
All of what I have told you to do means nothing if she isn't part of you. And what you are becoming. I want her to be as free as you will be. Free of her chains. And her own cage. That she has been in for a much longer time than you were.
While you are working on yourself, working out, a work in progress, do not neglect her. Or I will cut off your balls, my darlings. Skin them right out of you, so they drop into my palm.
You are not having an affair. Not with me, not with anybody else. You are not a cheater. And she must be certain of it. For only then will she join you. Enjoy you. As you join me on your journey.
I want you to leave her messages. Little things. Notes on the fridge. Telling her how much you'll miss her during the day. Have flowers delivered to her office. It's the little things that matter. It's the little things that will let her know you are hers, and she is yours. I told you before that there is nothing that a woman cannot dream of, as long as she is secure in that love. And share with her. Passion. And fantasies. Tell her why you started to work on yourself. How much of a lazy slob you were. And how much better you'll want to look. For yourself. For her.
Romance her. You remember how it felt when you first did, don't you? When that man you once were met the woman she once was? How every little thing counted? How you wanted her to feel? And how exciting it all was.
Now you will date her again. Will reveal yourself again. This time as a boi.
Isn't that something to look forward to? To work at? To work out for?
And to go shopping for?
Well, it's as good an excuse as any, and when you're a bitch, you'll take any excuse to go shopping!
Back to your ensemble. Have you found the suit you like? That fits you tight? The tuxedo shirt that matches? Then it's time to shop for accessories. Nothing too terribly fancy. Even I don't glam up fully all the time. Most of the time, yes, but then, I'm still years into your future. Baby steps, my darlings.
Get comfortable in the suit. Strike a pose. Strike two. Or three or four. Vogue, my darlings. We can all learn from Madonna. Vogue yourself. As we get your accessories, one by one.
First, rings. A bitch wears them proudly. And a bitch wears them in silver. In steel. Or in titanium.They must be part of you. And be on your thumb. And your pinky finger. And your ring finger. I prefer for one of them to cover the knuckle, like a shield. A single ruby red stone to show my desire. Follow my style, darlings. Remember. I am the one to dress you up. I'm your sister. Your mother. I'm your teacher.
And we are dressing you up to go on your first date!
Isn't that the best? Doesn't that make your cunt already twitch? Oh, I know it does. And your heart flutters with excitement. How much fun it will be! And how many things I have planned for your date. And for your cunt. During your date.
And more, you will for the first time show a full ensemble for your body! And your fingers as well! Your claws will be painted, openly, for the first time. Because we want to look good for our first date, don't we? And silver rings? metal rings? They go best with something understated, if you are a boi. Black. Urban Decay black. Glossy and catching the light, that restaurant's light where you will take your wife, your girlfriend for the first time as yourself.
Underneath the rings, of course, I will often go for fingerless lace gloves. Which reveal just enough skin to make it look interesting.
Now, what else is missing? We are missing something, don't we?
Oh, yes! Shoes! A boi has got to have some decent shoes!
We can't use boots here. Well, not full boots. Think of the ensemble, darlings! Always! No details must be amiss! We are introducing ourselves. Now, me personally? In such an ensemble, I wear Tory Burch ankle boots. Their Whitney ankle boots are mine. Totally mine! Dreadfully expensive, of course, but they come in a beautifully simple style, 4 inch heels that are easy to walk in and have just the cutest golden ring at the bottom.
And since our feet will need to be as comfortable and sexy as our fingers, I prefer nylon ankle socks with a lace top and lace-up detail. That just spill over my Tory Burch's with their lace tops. Delightful! And difficult to find. I bought all of mine at Diva's Closet, but you might find them elsewhere.
It will take time to get all these things. Time and money. While you work on your body. And I work on your soul.
Assemble yourself in my image.
And look at what you see in the mirror when you are done.
So much better, even, than being naked, isn't it?
So much more fulfilling?
Get used to it. Move in it. Vogue in it.
Turn around. How it hugs all the right places.
Your ensemble. Chosen by me for you.
Do it in silence. Do it in private.
This is how I looked. On my first time. Now yours.
Soon. Very soon, my darlings.
Your wife, your girlfriend will meet you.
For the very first time.