Hush

Hush

My Mistress' favourite word. Sometimes it was said staring into my eyes, that excited, intense stare holding me in place as she softly whispered it to me. Sometimes it was said so casually, barely looking up from what she was doing, a small scolding tone in her voice. She had used it playfully, intently, seriously, gleefully; a versatile word that Mistress wielded with conviction to control me.

And control me it did. Hearing that word made me feel powerless, subservient. She followed it with many pet names for me. Sissy, slut, whore, honey, cutie, sweetie, good girl, cocksucker, pretty. Mistress never seemed to run out of things to call me, each one always making me blush, that comforting warm feeling spreading through my chest. I didn't need the cage around my clit to tell me she was in control, and I didn't need the collar often locked around my neck to remind me how much I enjoyed it.

I had lost control over my orgasms a long time ago, a gradual transition into our current dynamic. One day I simply placed my keys into her waiting and expecting hands, that knowing grin on my Mistress' face greeting me, placing my trust in this wonderful woman. Not to say that she doesn't let me cum, far from it. Mistress had granted me orgasms in many different ways over the years. From her cock, her hands, fingers, vibrators, plugs, uncaged, even the occasional "friend" she finds for me. Regardless of how my orgasm was given to me, the common thread to them all was she had given permission.

So here I was, yet another night under her control. Dressed in my favourite outfit of a matching pink corset, stockings held up by my garters, sparkling heels planted firmly on the floor, tied to a chair as Mistress played with my clit. I moaned into my gag, the ball between my lips doing a terrible job at masking my desperate pleas. Enjoying the sensation of being uncaged, the constant up and down of her hands, rubbing a mix of lube, spit, and pre-cum over me again and again.

Quivering legs as she brought me to yet another insanely close edge, that intelligent intense stare never leaving her toy for the evening. Mistress expertly watched, enjoying my torment, knowing exactly how far she could push her good girl. My clit whimpering in her hands, so desperate to release. She had kept me denied for quite some time, the effects of which slowly turning me girlier and more subservient, always falling deeper into her control. Willingly and happily being my Mistress' good girl.

Whimpering, my eyes trying to convey the desperation and need my voice could not, staring at my Mistress. She simply smiled, eyes never leaving me, sealing my fate for the evening with a simple word.

Hush

Just like that, I knew I would be denied the orgasm I so desperately sought. I softly whimpered as she iced me back down and caged my clit, gently patting my balls, calling me her good girl. Even with the growing need I could feel inside of myself, I wouldn't give up hearing Mistress call me that for anything in the world.

A few days later I found myself blushing in public, dressed for a day out by my Mistress. Black opaque tights encased my legs, tight denim short shorts firmly holding my clit against me. The plug Mistress had shoved inside of me gently humming away, my g-spot under constant assault. Cute white sneakers and a tight black top, following her around as we did errands. Ignoring the stares from around me, simultaneously trying to control my breathing as that familiar feeling crept over me. That tingling sensation, that building orgasm, that constant need growing and rising. I felt her gentle hand on my ass, patting me in support, squeezing as she whispered to her sissy.

Hush

Blushing, I leaned into her for support, finding strength in her touch, her control. I was her good girl, and I welcomed the teasing and frustration she enjoyed putting me through. As we sat down with friends later, her hands running up and down my nylon legs, I beamed, blushed, giggled, and smiled. Content.

Weeks later, my poor caged clit a constant on my mind, being ignored by my Mistress. I went about my chores, cleaning her little house as she went about her business. Vacuuming, dusting, dishes, laundry; I spent a good part of the day working my way through her list. As I was bent over the kitchen counter wiping it down, I felt Mistress press against me, a surprised moan escaping from my lips. Hands exploring her little maid, she smiled at all the tiny, little moans she could force out of me.

With little effort, she slid two fingers inside of me, finding my g-spot. Rubbing back and forth, I instantly felt that familiar surge of need course through me. Hands planted on the counter for support, legs beginning to shake, I whimpered and whined as she toyed with me, played with her sissy. Mistress' other hand caressed my caged balls, my poor clit feeling overwhelmed and desperate. Her sudden assault ended almost as soon as it began, a few gentle spanks bringing me back out of my euphoric haze.

Hush

Just like that, put back to work, a flush all over my body, still breathing heavily from being played with. My clit throbbed for the rest of the day as I finished my chores, seeing a smiling Mistress out of the corner of my eye.

Over the next what felt like several months, that word was a constant in my life. Dressed as her little slut for a night out with friends, her constant touch and teasing through the evening was met every time with a simple:

Hush

Brought to a party as a helper, watching Mistress and others moan and cum, bodies entwined in ecstasy, simply left to whimper and watch, helping to get drinks and clean like a good sissy:

Hush

Dropped off for friends of hers, a couple who enjoyed using me as their toy. Melting under their control and touch, a happy sissy, eyes wide with frenzied lust. Being picked up by Mistress at the end of the night, my stare so evident with need as she took my hand, leading me back to the car:

Hush

Every cute outfit, every teasing session, every time I was cucked and forced to watch, every party, every casual night of cuddling, every gentle touch of my caged clit. It all was met with the same result.

Hush

Hush

Hush

Barely remembering what it felt like to cum, what it felt like not to have this constant aching need between my legs, I felt almost comforted by it, craving it, needing it. I still pleaded and begged in my own silent way, that desperation in my clit demanding it. Mistress of course enjoyed all of it, every second of my torment, my aching wide-eyed frustration. And she met each one, each silent protest, each little noise with a simple word of control.

Hush

No longer sure how long I had been denied, content with the control Mistress had over me, I simply served, and did what I was told. I handed out drinks to her friends, blushing as they commented on my outfit for the evening. The outfit Mistress had dressed me in for her little party. My clit, which seemed to constantly leak now, was encased in thin, see-through panties, displaying my aching frustration. Over top of my garters, the straps a comforting familiarity against my legs, holding up my solid white stockings with black tops.

Black high heels showing off my ass and legs, as well as the matching tiny black corset tightly encasing my chest. Mistress had placed it over a thin see through black crop top, the sleeves going to my wrists, that constant feeling of being ever so gently touched. After being denied for so long, the outfit itself was enough to frustrate me alone.

Of course, left to the mercy of her guests and friends, there was far more teasing than simply the gorgeous outfit Mistress had wrapped me in. As I handed out drinks, I whimpered through the constant exploration of my body. The fingers trailing along my clit, feeding me my own precum. Gentle hands cupping and slapping my poor balls, feeling as if they could explode at any moment. Any time it felt like it was getting to be too much, Mistress would be at my side, that gentle touch and tone comforting me, giving me strength.

Hush

All through the night I served, embracing the teasing touch. I had another close call when a more dominant friend of hers placed me over his lap, rubbing and spanking my exposed ass. Running his hands over my shaved and nylon legs, I could only quiver and whimper under his touch, that aching need inside of me feeling ready to burst. Mistress simply smiled, knowing I would be her good girl, giggling at the wonderful torment she knew I was going through.

With a gleeful stare, approaching the end of her little party, Mistress led me by my collar to the center of the room. She slowly hooked her fingers in my panties, making a show of gently dragging them down my legs. Stepping out of them, nervously unsure about what she had planned for me, my clit exposed and dripping. I blushed as I heard the chorus of giggles surrounding me, some sympathetic towards my obviously excited little clit.

My arms were placed in a black latex armbinder, strapped tightly and suspended from the ceiling. Left exposed, squirming in my heels, I openly whined as I saw many of the women begin to step into their strap-ons. Even some of her male friends began to get excited, hard yummy cocks pulled out, staring at the vulnerable sissy bound before them. Mistress was suddenly beside me, my own panties being shoved into my mouth. Tasting my own abundance of precum on the light fabric, she kissed my cheek as a latex hood was placed over my head, trapping in the make shift gag.

Plunged into darkness, unable to move, I felt the hood tighten over me, two holes for my nose the only part of my face now exposed. I moaned, the tightness of so many parts of my outfit driving me wild, from my nylons, my garters, corset, and new bindings. None of which though could match the aching throbbing coming from my clit, the constant pressure of my little cage against me. Listening to the now muffled excited noises surrounding me, I shook with anticipation, ready to be used.

I felt the first cock being pushed slowly inside of me, instantly knowing it was my Mistress. The movement, the touch, the way she fucked me, it was something I had become accustomed to. I eagerly pushed back against her as best as I could, embracing the welcoming feeling of her cock in my ass, my g-spot in heaven as she slid in and out of me.

Many hands explored and rubbed all parts of me, but my Mistress' grip on my hips was all I could think about. That firm grasp, a physical manifestation of the control she had over me, the welcoming feeling of her demanding, controlling, comforting touch. Confident squeezes as she relentlessly pumped in and out of me, occasionally leaving my sides only to spank my eager little ass, calling me her good girl. As I whimpered into the panties stuffed into my mouth, I knew this was why I was her sissy. Moments like this that made me realise how much I craved her control, needed it. As that familiar feeling of my orgasm began to build, I welcomed hearing her favourite word, wanting nothing more than to be her good girl.

Sure enough, leaning in beside my ear, still thrusting in and out of me with her cock, Mistress whispered to her sissy. My g-spot over stimulated, struggling to contain myself as it was worked over, I waited. Yet as I felt a hand leave my side to grab my throat, pulling me as deep into her as she could, her voice betraying the eagerness and dominating mood she was in, cock never stopping, I heard her demand. I heard her nearly scream a command I have not heard in a very, very, very long time.

CUM

Screaming into my hood, my Mistress' cock no longer something I could fight, the simple one word command playing over and over in my mind, I once again did what a good girl should. I did what I was told.

And I came.

Months of denial, teasing, frustration, aching, pleading, desperation, utter constant need, was released out of my clit. Unable to speak, incoherent mumbles and moans escaping my lips under my hood, I came. Spurt after spurt, my caged clit exploding with vigor to the muffled cheers surrounding me. I quivered and squirmed as my orgasm was fucked out of me, seemingly endless cum leaking out of my poor clit. Breathing heavily, shaking as I slowly came down from the biggest and best orgasm of my life, my eyes coated with happy tears.

A few light taps on my ass, Mistress' wordless way to call me her good girl, she continued fucking her little sissy until she was too tired to continue. Pulling out of me, more spanks on my shaking and exhausted ass, she returned her hands to my throat, ensuring I could hear her. Feeling her hot, exhausted breath through my hood, pressed so tightly to me.

You are welcome my good girl, my little sissy

Whimpering, I leaned into her, that familiar warm feeling spreading over me. Still breathing heavily from being fucked, hanging in the center of the room, Mistress stroked the side of my face, holding me as another cock slide inside of me from behind. I groaned, my used ass welcoming the feeling of being fucked, knowing I wasn't finished being a fuck toy for the evening. With a kiss on my latex cheek, Mistress left me to her guests, a subtle nod to the fact that my night was far from over.

After not being allowed to cum for what felt like an eternity, I welcomed being their toy, their slut. I welcomed being used, being fucked. As the second of many orgasms was fucked out of me, my little caged clit leaking and squirting again and again, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was exactly where I needed to be. What I needed to be. I was Mistress' sissy, her little slut, her cocksucker, her whore, her maid, her toy.

I was her good girl.