My Goddess

As our little relationship trial came to a close, the three month marker inching closer to being finished, Claire was in firm control of her little sissy. She knew how to quiet me with a simple look, how to make me blush with a word, how to bring pain or pleasure, whichever she decided was more appropriate in the moment. I hung onto her every word, so desperate to please her, to be her good girl. Such a short amount of time, yet I knew without a doubt, that I couldn't imagine life without her.

Sitting in her apartment one evening, my head in her arms as she stroked my hair, Claire informed me that tonight was the final night of our trial period. Looking up at her, she stared down intently, her hand never stopping playing with my hair. She told me she was taking her good girl out on a date, much like their first one, to see how she felt about being under her control. Silently I nodded, my mind racing as to what this date would entail.

Leading me into her room, I nearly fainted as I saw the matching black, dresses hanging on her closet door. Thin, light, and very tight, I whimpered as I ran my hands over the fabric. Claire giggled at me, confirming that I would indeed be wearing that for our date, leaving the safety of her apartment for the first time as Rory. I whimpered, terrified at the very thought, my poor clit betraying how excited I was with the idea.

Soon dressed in matching stockings, garters, and panties, Claire playfully ran her hands over me, telling my again and again how beautiful I looked. I sat still and obeyed as she dolled up my face like hers, bold lips and dark eyes, knowing that the final step was soon to come. Something inside of me shifted when I felt her slide the dress up my body, tightening around me as she zipped it closed. I was nervous, terrified, and yet every part of me felt content. Happy. It was if my body was showing me what I had been missing my entire life, what I had needed.

Staring at the matching reflection in front of her, Claire's infectious smile spread across her face, drinking in her beautiful girl. I blushed under that stare, under the warming and comforting control she knew she had over me. Taking my hand, squeezing the nerves out of me, I let myself be led outside. Our heels clicked against the sidewalk as we headed to the restaurant, Claire's hand never leaving mine, giving me the confidence to face being Rory in the real world.

I was surprised at how comfortable I felt through the evening. I of course noticed the subtle stares, even the odd pointing in my direction. Yet, staring into the beautiful green eyes across from me, hearing her soothing voice, her loving touch, I simply didn't care. As we laughed and smiled through the meal, enjoying each other's company as if nothing had changed, I felt the warmth spreading through my chest, the love I had for this woman.

We walked hand in hand after dinner, enjoying the cool breeze of the evening. Getting to a secluded spot, Claire pulled me to a halt, staring at me with intent, betraying a hint of nervousness inside of her. She began to speak, taking both of my hands in hers, staring up with a hint of fear, knowing that tonight things could change drastically in the dynamic and relationship we had built over the course of the last three months.

Before she could even start the speech I knew she had prepared, I kissed her, pulling her tightly against me. Looking down at the face of my keyholder, I didn't need to think. I knew what I wanted, what I needed. I knew what I was giving up, the choice I was making. Yet, I knew that there really wasn't a choice, that my mind had been made up months ago. Staring down with tears beginning to form in my eyes, I said the only thing I needed to.

Yes

Claire tried to counter, asking if I was sure. What she was asking, all that it entailed. Each point she brought up, I would simply smile, kiss her once more, repeating my choice.

Yes

For the first time since knowing her, I saw a woman who was nervous, terrified of losing something precious to her. I saw the love she had for me, all of me, and knew this was someone I could submit to, give me life to. Tears in her eyes, asking me one final time, her voice so soft I could barely hear it.

Are you sure?

For once, it was my time to give Claire confidence, to squeeze her hand with support. Crying, happy and emotional, I smiled as I told her I loved her. I loved being owned by her. I loved being caged by her. Controlled by her. Dominated. Adored. Teased. Humiliated. Dressed. Denied. Fucked. Punished. Pleasured. She would have all of me, every inch. I was hers to do with what she would, what she pleased. I was her sissy, her good girl, her toy, her cuck, her caged and controlled little slut. I was whatever she needed me to be.

Claire sobbed, relief flowing from her as she hugged me, pulling me down to kiss me deeply. We embraced for a long time, simply holding each other with a knowing silence. Our trial was over, coming a long way from an exciting night of passion, exchanging flirting messages back and forth. I belonged to her, not simply because she held the key to my clit, nor the multitude of photos she often teased about blackmailing me with. Claire had earned my trust, my obedience, my servitude. I belonged to her because she took care of me, of every part of me. She was my Domme, my owner, my keyholder.

My Goddess.

Back at home, Claire practically tore off my dress, strapping on her cock and aggressively entering her sissy. Legs wrapped around her, I looked up at the intense stare on her face, cock thrusting in and out of my eager little whole. Moaning, never breaking eye contact, Claire confidently fucked her good girl, claiming what was hers, what had taken three months to solidify. There was no doubt, no room for misinterpretation. She owned the beautiful little whore beneath her, fucking orgasm after orgasm out of me to prove it.

After that night I moved into her place, Claire's first demand of her newly minted sissy. Her next demand was to be referred to as Goddess. While she had a multitude of cute pet names for me, she made it clear that the nature of our relationship was one of servitude. Of ownership. Of worship. She even had a new cage made for me, similar to my pink one but custom tailored to my clit, only being unlocked once a week for shaving and cleaning.

Claire found more and more creative ways to control her sissy, to explore and experiment with her ownership over me. My outings as Rory continued, even my daily attire shifting more and more towards feminine touches. Almost as if she planned it, Goddess quickly found her favourite thing to dress me in was the first outfit she wore when cementing her control over me. Black tights, little denim shorts (which left little to the imagination outlining every detail of my caged clit!), cute little sneakers, and a tight black top; Goddess could barely keep her hands off me when I wore it for her.

True to her word, Goddess had never once let me have my cock. It was hers now, locked safely away, a caged clit to be teased, tormented, and denied. She would gently rub my balls while we relaxed and cuddled, listening to the mews and moans that it forced out of me. She would rub the tip of my clit in its cage, making me cum all over her fingers. Fucking me on my back, she would spank my poor stretched balls, hearing the whimpering from her sissy as she smacked and punished my clit, the mix of the aching pain I felt and the pleasure of my orgasm sending me into a confusing and wonderful climax.

I happily felt myself falling further and further under her control each and every day. No decisions, no worries. I simply had to be her good girl, doing what I was told, obeying and listening to Goddess. Knowing she would push me, control me. Yet, also knowing she would protect me, cherish me, keeping me safe, keeping me happy. Staring at my clit each morning, giggling as I traced my painted fingers across it, I basked in that feeling. That constant feeling, constant emotion Goddess wrapped me in each and every day.

I was happy.