A Trans Woman's Submission

Mistress can't blame you.

She knows that you need someone to do your thinking for you. She knows that you need someone to control you. But she wasn't there.

Sara was there.

You couldn't remember why you were in the bar or what you had ordered. All you knew was that your glass was half-empty when you first noticed her.

Her hair was black, streaked with the first wisps of grey. Her face carried the authority of early middle age, and her eyes asserted an effortless authority. Her dress was long and flowing, suggesting at the stunning beauty it hid from unworthy eyes.

"Come", she mouthed at you. You stood up mechanically and walked over to her stool, leaving your glass behind. You stood beside her, hands clasped behind her back. You lifted your head to meet her gaze in anticipation of her turning to you.

She ignored you for several agonizing seconds. Finally, she turned and placed her hand on your shoulder and then your cheek. You leaned your face into her caress, and she whispered "are you a good girl?" You were only able to look up to her and nod.

She groped her way around your body, starting with your breasts. She moved to your ass next, and you were already leaking down your legs and had soaked through your panties and the front of your skirt. You heard her suppress a laugh when she got to your cock. She makes you lick your slickness off her hand.

"Please help me!" you whispered to her.

She turned you so you were facing away from her and towards everyone else in the bar. You could feel her breasts pressed against your back.

She ran her hands up under your shirt to your breasts, cupping them gently then pinching your nipples harshly. You squealed, your body unable to decide between moaning and screaming. She lifted your shirt over your head and tossed it aside. She unhooked your bra with one nimble hand and ripped it off of you.

You were embarrassed at being exposed so publicly, but even more humiliated that no one in the bar seemed at all interested in your exposed and wanton breasts.

She slid your panties down your legs and then tore your skirt off of you, leaving you wearing nothing but your chastity cage.

People weren't ignoring you then, they were laughing at your tiny, pathetic cock. She reached around and unlocked your cock. She gripped it gently between her thumb and forefinger and, using those two fingers, started to jerk you off.

The people weren't just laughing at you then, they were taunting you that your sad, little cock probably couldn't last 30 seconds.

They were right. You came in a few seconds, spraying cum on the floor in front of you. The woman whispered in your ear, "I'm not going to order you to lick up your cum, but I am giving you permission to do so."

You wished that she hadn't made you admit that you wanted to do that, but you dropped to all fours to lick your cum off the dirty floor as she pressed the point of her heel into the flesh of your ass.

When you were done, she put you back in chastity, slipped a collar around your neck, and leashed you to her chair. She made you stand beside her, turned towards the other patrons with your hands behind your back and your eyes on your feet while she ate her meal and had an after-dinner drink.

She took you shopping with her after that. You carried her bags, and she let you give your mouth to anyone desperate enough to want it. She joked with the employees and other shoppers about the pathetic slut she found with the saggy tits and tiny dick.

Everything was as it should be. She was gliding between stores in stylish clothes with a pathetic slut in tow behind her. You were serving your obvious superior, your ridiculous lust and worthless body on display to all. Both of you were as you deserve.

The sun was setting when she dropped you off at home. You didn't remember telling her where you live, but you're not good at remembering. Mistress has explained that the only thing your brain is good for is keeping cocks from hitting the back of your skull.

It had been a long, hard day. You wondered what Mistress would do to you when you told her all about it. You know it will be painful and degrading.

And you are excited for it.