I'm Here To Be a Good Girl

Slowly and methodically, I stared into my lit up mirror, gently applying lipstick for the evening. Deep red, meant to draw attention, to leave no imagination as to who was in charge. It also gave me a bit of confidence, a push that I needed sometimes as Rory, who preferred to be submissive. To be dominated. To be a good girl.

My outfit served a similar purpose, sliding six inch black heels onto my seamed nylon feet. Standing to admire my reflection, hands exploring the tight latex skirt encasing me, fingernails matching my lips. Nylon bodysuit, a crisscross pattern throughout, the collar perfectly hiding the connection of my breast forms. Snugly holding my clit underneath the skirt, sleeves coming all the way down to my wrists, hugging tightly to my body. Fully wrapped in feminine attire, feeling powerful and in control, I fussed with my wig until it fell into place, awaiting my guest for the evening.

About six months earlier, I had met a wonderful woman, Claire, while out as Rory. Fascinated with the juxtaposition of my different "sides", she hung on every word that night as I shared my interests, preferences, experiences, and wishes. Vanilla in most ways herself, she was drawn in by this world she knew nothing about, friendly and encouraging as we talked. That night turned into another, into many, and quickly we became fast friends.

Yet the more Claire found out about myself and the world of BDSM, the more I saw that familiar need grow inside of her, that endless curiosity we all feel. Learning more through stories, pictures, videos, and creators, Claire's sexual world was turned upside down, leaving her with questions she wanted answered. We would talk about many different things, kinks, and lifestyles, some of which even I had to learn about. But she knew that talking and conversing wouldn't be enough, and three months after meeting, a very nervous and wide-eyed Claire showed up at my apartment.

We had a long, deep conversation that night about what she wanted to do about it, how she wanted to explore these new interests. Nervous about ruining our relationship, and the fact that I secretly felt she was far more attracted to girl me than boy me, I shared the final piece of what made Rory so special with her. I will never forget the first time Claire saw my clit in its little pink cage, securely locked away, what helped make me feel more feminine, more girly.

Knowing she could be her comfortable self around my female persona, and knowing my clit would be caged, Claire asked me to help her explore, to be my sub. And so, stepping into my own form of exploration, Mistress Rory was born. The first few sessions we had were just light bondage, getting used to this new dynamic between each other, figuring out her limits, both hard and soft. Through it all the wide-eyed and giggling Claire let loose, falling further into her role as my sub.

Tonight was no different, a message from Claire earlier in the day that simply said the phrase I had taught her to tell me whenever she felt the need to submit. Knocking at my door hours later, opening it to find her excited stare, shifting back and forth nervously in the hallway. I held her gaze, waiting to hear the words that let me know she was ready to submit. Ready to give up control.

I'm here to be a good girl

I smiled, kissing her giggling cheek as I ushered her inside. Claire quickly stripped down to her panties, knowing well the rules of engagement I required. Slowly, I walked around her, heels clicking off the hardwood floor, listening to her breath quicken. When she felt the personal metal collar being placed around her throat, Claire whimpered and moaned, the indisputable soft click sending shivers through her body. Enjoying our starting ritual, I tilted her chin back, pretty blue eyes staring up, dancing with excitement, watching Claire sink into her role for the evening, knowing she was ready.

Claire and I had discovered many things she enjoyed being put through or done to her. Bondage, spankings, teasing, chores, as well as the beautiful outfits I stuffed her into. Although the last one I suspected she did simply because of the smile it put on my face seeing her wrapped in nylons, lace, and latex. However one sense of play that drove Claire wild, that I always made sure to indulge her in, was being fucked.

Of course, a caged clit made the "traditional" meaning of the word not possible, so as I finished tying Claire's legs above her head, suspended from the ceiling in my swing, she whimpered in her gag, watching as I slid the strap-on harness up my stockings. Skirt discarded, my bodysuit fully on display, I teased her pussy with my fake cock. With Rory's cock.

At first playing with her like this had driven me insane, clit aching to be released so it could take over. But, seeing the trust in her eyes, the relief as she was drilled into, it slowly became an addiction of my own. Not to mention, the cock we settled on for Claire was substantially more impressive than my own, even if it wasn't tightly caged. With glee, I drank her in as she moaned and begged for me to slide my girlcock inside, stretching her excited pussy.

Slowly, always slowly, pushing in and out as I massaged her little clit, smiling as her involuntary noises escaped through the red ball gag. Hooking a finger through her collar, I made sure Claire's attention was on me, eyes locked, as my fingers picked up speed, rubbing and fucking simultaneously, watching the brimming orgasm inside of her. Without words, seeing the need in those beautiful eyes, a single nod was all she needed to scream, quivering as I felt her cum all over my cock.

Slowing my fingers, I kept my methodic pace of fucking her, watching with excited eyes as she came down from her orgasm. Smiling down at my good girl, the relief and appreciation on her face, legs still shaking as I fucked her. Taking out her gag, I listened to her quietly moan, staring up at her Mistress. Her eyes widened as I told Claire that I wasn't quite finished with her, hands returning to her now extremely sensitive clit.

I laid Claire on the couch later that evening, exhausted from the many orgasms I had put her through. Wrapped in a blanket, gently brushing her hair with my fingers, I kissed her forehead, watching sleep quickly over take her. Claire stayed like that until late next morning, smelling bacon and coffee cooking a few meters away. Still wearing her collar and not much else, we laughed and shared over breakfast, simply enjoying each others company. Both of us a slight sense of disappointment as I unlocked her collar, releasing her from my grasp. Yet, we both knew that it wouldn't be long before she was once again at my door, eyes wide with need and excitement, saying the phrase I taught her.

I'm here to be a good girl

It was a great dynamic for both of us, never hindering on our friendship, simply something we shared together. Knowing that outside of our nights we were just friends, knowing that when the need arose all she had to do was let her Mistress know she was ready. One phrase that put her under my welcomed control.

I'm here to be a good girl

Weeks later I met Claire for drinks, wearing a tight matching red dress and heels, dark nylons covering my shaved legs. Just a hint of my caged little clit showed in the tight fabric, making me blush through the evening. I was surprised by three other woman at the table who Claire introduced with a sheepish grin as Rachel, Emily, and Aurora. Friends she had met online, through school, and work. All with one very specific thing in common.

Me.

Claire admitted that she might have raved a little about our "sessions", finding like-minded women who were fascinated by her Mistress. Glaring at my over sharing sub, ensuring she knew punishment would come, I talked and shared with my three new friends as I had with Claire all those months ago. Rory, the girly expression, the feminine celebration, the sissy slut, the whore, the giggling maid every other Saturday. Yet, despite all of those things I enjoyed about being Rory, I left that evening knowing my exploration into being a Mistress would be tested even further. I now had four excited, wide-eyed, eager, submissive women under my whim. Four times the amount of hearing a knock at my door, revealing that similar stare across different faces, yet a common phrase uniting them.

I'm here to be a good girl

Despite Claire's bottom being very hard to sit on after my scolding, I did have to thank her for more chances to explore my dominant, feminine side.

Rachel, an eager little cum slut, found her "sweet spot" in being dominated. Roughly made to cum, vibrator forcing orgasms out of her, screaming into the cloth I stuffed into her mouth. Other gags just came with noise complaints, so part of Rachel's welcoming ritual quickly encompassed filling that loud mouth of hers, often with her own panties, sealed in with tape and a latex hood. Voice and sight stripped from her, allowed to completely surrender, she would simply fall into my touch, cumming over and over until her pussy ached with exhaustion.

Emily, the smallest of the bunch, and by far the most adorable, had been a bit trickier. Each time we tested going past a certain point, she never felt comfortable. Back and forth I tried many different things, searching for what worked to appease her kinky little self. After many frustrating nights for both of us, we realised that she simply enjoyed being bound. Tight bondage, ropes, straps, and positions, she loved it all. I would leave her hogtied on the coffee table, gently patting that cute blushing cheek, or she would be tightly wrapped, mummified on my bed, squirming away. I would set a blindfold and headphones on her face, checking in now and again, greeted every time by a smiling and happy woman.

Aurora, oh poor Aurora, was her own worst enemy. It was her own fault she was so much fun to tease, to deny, the whimpering and pleading those eyes of hers would go through after I took the vibrator away at the last second, or letting my fingers trail away juuuuuust as her breath started to quicken. Each time was met with that same adorable expression, that pleading stare. One special night I had teased her for hours, feeling the heat coming from her pussy, the need and excitement emitting from her. Sliding her panties up those shaking legs, Aurora had begged and whimpered, so desperate for the orgasm I had denied her. Yet, as I kissed her cheek, taking off her collar, sending my adorable girl and her aching pussy on their way, she gave me the tiniest thank you as we hugged. From that night on, Aurora never came again.

Finding what worked for each woman had been a wonderfully challenging experience. Now, my wardrobe of dominating outfits growing, I found myself enjoying the messages I received from each of them. Each was such a joy to share with, to explore with, to see show up at my door, similar expression as they stared up at their Mistress, reiterating the phrase they knew so well.

I'm here to be a good girl

All four of the beautiful women in my life on my mind, I smiled as I got dolled up for the evening. Pulling my little jean shorts up over my opaque, black nylons, feeling them hug tightly against my clit. A simple black top, tight to my torso, perfectly hiding my fake breasts. Towering pink heels, matching my nails and make-up, blushing as I stared into the mirror. A favourite outfit of mine, my caged clit perfectly outlined by the tiny shorts, a tiny bulge I could not take my eyes off. Feeling the nylons stretched over my long legs, hands unable to stop feeling every inch of them, rubbing and teasing as I slowly succumbed to my girly desires.

The smile never left my face as I walked into the night. Images of a screaming Rachel, a smiling Emily, a desperate Aurora, and a blushing Claire accompanied me as my heels clicked off the sidewalk. I thought of how lucky I was to have each and every one of them, that they chose me to share this vulnerable side of themselves. Four unique women, four adorable subs, four toys to tease and torment.

Yet, a big reason why I could be the Mistress they needed, see and recognise that submissive need in each of them, was the own drive within myself. The craving, the push to be a good girl. My legs rubbing together as I walked, clitty aching in its cage, I felt my breath quicken as I reached my destination. Standing in front of the house I knew all too well, shaking with anticipation as I made my way up the stairs, a walk I had done many times.

The last secret I had from my subs. The last hidden aspect of Rory, the final piece of the puzzle I kept to myself. With a deep breath, I sank to my knees, shaking as I reached up to ring the bell. I knew it would be a while before my call was answered, remembering the nervous waiting on his doormat, feeling exposed and vulnerable before his door.

He was the reason I was able to be the Mistress my subs enjoyed, and at times needed. Taking his lessons, his control, his touch, and replicating it. My own beginning ritual, feeling my heart beating as I knelt in the open, that familiar fall into his sub, his good girl. I thought to all the different experiences I had put those girls through, how I myself had explored them first hand. Lived them. How I had been denied, teased, spanked, fucked, gagged, made to cum until there were tears in my eyes. How I had been turned into furniture for an entire weekend, reduced to an object. How I had been nothing more than a toy for his friends and colleagues, passed around and used. They all had so, so much to learn...

Hearing the door finally open, bringing me back to reality, I stared up at my Master. My expression the same as the one I saw staring up at me so often these days, one of excitement, fear, eagerness, and need. Always need. My own collar in his hands, fingers playfully rubbing the leather, making me whimper with anticipation to have it locked around my neck.

I felt him take my chin in his hand, ensuring I saw nothing but that intimidating, piercing stare. Any dominating feelings I had withered away under that glare, leaving his submissive. The submissive he knew inside and out, knowing exactly how to control, to punish, to tease, to humiliate, to excite, to deny, and to please. Yet he waited, patiently waited, eyebrow cocked as he stared down, silently expecting what was required from me.

My Master waited to hear my phrase, the phrase I had taught to my own subs, the phrase that let him know why I was here. The phrase that showed him I was ready to be his. Ready for his control, his touch, his everything. Barely finding my voice, the need and excitement coursing through my body, I gave myself to him completely, falling over that edge, eagerly ready to be collared. To be owned.

I'm here to be a good girl