Perfect Little Cocksucker

Nervously, I played with the hem of my skirt, desperately trying to calm myself in his presence. The outfit chosen for me was something I had worn many times, and loved very much. But, this was the first time I had left my apartment as Rory, my little space of safety and secrecy. The entire journey to his house I could feel my heart pounding, my poor clit straining and aching, hidden underneath the loose skirt, tightly encased in its pink cage. Now, standing in the hallway, feeling his dominating gaze over me, the first time anyone had seen Rory in person, I basked in my own vulnerability.

Light pink skirt, hiding the tops and garters of my white stockings. Solid white, my smooth legs not showing through the opaque fabric, feet slid into my pink heels. I had grown accustomed to being six inches taller, many hours of practicing walking up and down my apartment. Yet now I felt as if I'd fall over any moment, legs nearly shaking as he walked around me, inspecting the silly sissy before him. Stomach exposed in my ruffled white top, showing my shoulders and a bit of back, this outfit that normally made me feel so cute and adorable now had me terrified, so concerned with what he would say.

He stopped in front of me, two fingers underneath my chin, gently tilting until we made eye contact. Softly whimpering, no longer able to stare at the floor, I glimpsed into the commanding glare of my potentially new Master. Someone who had reached out, given tips, compliments and praise, and eventually suggesting that we meet. I knew today was just a meeting, getting to know one another. Yet, under that stare, those piercing blue eyes seemed to look right through me. I couldn't help but feel intimidated.

Smiling, almost leaving me in that state of subtle nervousness, he let the moment linger, drinking in the slightly shaking sissy before him. Sir, which is what he requested that I call him for now, moved his fingers down, wrapping his hand in mine, obediently following as I was led into the living room. Sitting down in a comfy chair, I was ushered in between his legs, both hands resting on his thighs. Back against my heels, my eyes unable to leave him, mind racing with ideas being put in this position.

True to his word though, simply wishing to keep me nervous, we talked. My position never changing, I happily chatted with Sir, feeling some confidence creep back into me. However a blush had permanently made its home on my face, never leaving as he pestered me with questions. Limits, goals, aspirations, what exactly I wished to get out of being Rory. An open book, I answered it all as best I could, my poor clit aching in its cage.

Sir changed my position, hands behind my back resting on each forearm, I sat as straight as I could while he leaned in, laying out his goals for our dynamic. I would be a collared sissy for him, a toy, a slave. He would train me how he saw fit, dress me how he envisioned, teach me to be the good girl I wanted to be. I could only nod, little moans escaping me as I listened intently, hanging onto every word.

Sir continued, seeing he had my full attention, describing how he would slowly get me more comfortable serving him. Bondage, dresses, teasing, spankings, and serving; all with the intent of deepening my trust in him, until I agreed to wear his collar. The collar would change in colour, style, and size, but its meaning would remain constant. I would wear it as my sign of ownership, of submission, the representation that I had given myself to him completely, ready to be his good girl through and through. Kneeling in front of him, my mind on fire with frustration and desire, I almost agreed right then and there.

On that day, I would be locked in a cage I'd never control the keys to. My clit no longer mine, given away with my devotion to him. He would officially become my Master, in name and purpose, and I would be his slave. His sissy. Smirking, cupping my chin with his hand, he parted my lips with his thumb, moaning as I wrapped them around it eagerly. Staring into my eyes as I sucked, he stated his first intent once I was his.

I am going to make you my perfect little cocksucker

I whimpered, sucking harder on his thumb, wanting to be trained immediately by the dominating God before me. Eyes wide, my entire body betraying my eagerness to serve, I soaked in that stare. Sir's eyes made me want nothing more than to serve, to obey. I wanted to be trained, punished, teased. I wanted to be his good girl. His sissy. My rational mind knew we had weeks before that would happen, getting to know one another, building trust. But unfortunately dressed pretty, Rory taking over every thought, rationality rarely made it to the forefront of my mind.

Wearing the same outfit as when I first met him, I returned to Sir's house one week later, clit never leaving my cage. I didn't dare to even clean it, wanting no temptation against my denial. Sir had me go through a list of chores while he watched, correcting here or there with his thin cane. My thighs and ass were shaking after that first day as his maid, learning from my many mistakes. I spent each weekend showing up to Sir's house, my pink and white outfit eventually replaced by a real maid uniform, pastel pink and ruffles galore, as well as a shorter hem to allow him easier access for my "corrections".

Petticoats, make-up, wig, and headband, I made the perfect sissy maid for Sir. Knowing my role and chores each time, I went about them diligently, feeling the bite of his cane less and less with each visit. As I completed his chores more quickly, Sir would spend the remainder of our time getting comfortable with me. Feeling him close as I was bound, his hands slowly exploring my nylon legs, my panty-covered ass. I would simply moan, pushing back against him, secretly wanting more. But he took his time, each week going just a bit further, introducing me to his touch.

The first time he touched my clit I fought the urge to instantly cum, so excited to be played with. The gentle rubbing through my panties, staring into my eyes as he toyed with his sissy. Bound and gagged, I could only whimper, desperately hoping he would do more, using me for his entertainment. Ever pragmatic, Sir also introduced me to spanking the very same night, draped over his thigh while he reddened my poor ass. A mix of moans, whimpers, and sniffles as he alternated with playing with my clit and his spanking. By the end of the evening I was compliant, sore, and incredibly aroused.

It took two months. Two agonising months of waiting before Sir placed me on my knees, collar in hand. I agreed immediately, wanting nothing more than to be his sissy. His slut. His whore. His slave. His good girl. Pink leather wrapping around my neck tightly, ring resting down for his leash, or his finger. Kissing me on the cheek, ownership in his eyes, he told me how excited he was to be my Master. To own such a wonderful good girl. On my knees, looking up at my owner, I could only smile, unable to put into words how happy this moment had made me.

True to his word, Master replaced my cage with his own the next time he requested my presence, bringing my keys for the last time. My new cage was impossibly small, a constant reminder of being owned, always on my mind as he dressed me for the night. A full length sleeved bodysuit, pink and transparent, I simply giggled as I felt it outline and cup my clit. Easily the most revealing outfit I had ever worn, even on my own, I twirled for my Master, seeing his smile as I was placed on my knees.

He placed his thumb in my mouth as he'd done so many months ago. Now collared and ready, I eagerly sucked, nodding as Master asked if I was prepared for my training. My mouthed watered seeing his cock for the first time, whimpering as I wrapped my hungry pink lips around him. Eyes glued to Sir, I listened as he directed me, moving back and forth, his cock gliding across my tongue. Groaning, Master came in my mouth for the first time, no stranger to the taste, yet somehow this was far more intense. More exciting. I savoured the texture of it, the taste, showing him the efforts of my first blowjob, swallowing when told, officially becoming his cocksucker.

My weekly visits quickly turned into bi-weekly, one day devoted to cleaning with the other left to training. Master would make me suck on a dildo attached to the wall, once again earning licks from his cane. I'd find myself gagged with a cock down my throat, eyes watering as I got used to having something deep inside of me, breathing around it as I sucked. Some nights he'd sit down leisurely, his collared sissy between his legs, moaning with a cock in my throat as I bobbed up and down, always staring up at him for approval. He wouldn't cum for an hour, simply dictate and watch, enjoying the sight beneath him.

My orgasms stolen from me, denied by my Master, I focused all of my pent up frustration on his cock, on becoming his good girl. Feeling him cum in my mouth, coating every part of me, was my new orgasm. I was obsessed with it, everything that came with being a good cocksucker for him. On my knees or simply between his legs in bed, freely sucking and licking or gagged as he fucked my mouth how he wished. Quickly becoming my favourite moments, was when he'd hold his cock inside my throat, letting it out just enough to give me a chance to breathe, only to push deep once more, my eyes watering, my sissy heart happy.

I could taste his cum all the time, as if a small part of Sir never left my mouth. While it wasn't the greatest taste, I was addicted, desperate to savour him every time at his house. One day, Master made me clean the entire day with his cum in my mouth, checking every now and again I hadn't swallowed. My clit strained so hard as I felt it on my tongue, working hard all day to be his good girl. When he finally placed me on my knees to swallow, only to replace it with fresh cum from his beautiful cock, I felt apart of me break, permanently succumbing to his control.

Master continued with my training in many other ways, learning to deal with different types of bondage and gags, toyed with and teased through the evenings. I received lessons from a close friend of his on how to present myself, her caring guidance into being more feminine. She taught me how to walk, sit, drink, and curtsy. And while Sir left us alone, she taught me all the ways I could entice him, subtly presenting myself in a way he could not refuse. Sir of course saw through it every time, but I still had fun being a tease. He enjoyed reminding me of my cage, and the clit I signed over to him. I would moan into my gags, or around his cock, feeling his touch as he rubbed, or vibrated me. Straining in its cage, my poor clit ached to cum, yet each time left on edge, the only orgasm left for me to experience was the one flooding my mouth.

But through it all, the lessons on his cock never faltered. In a braided wig, wearing the same bodysuit I first sucked his cock in, I didn't flinch as Master held his cock down my throat, denying my breath, watching his sissy stay firm, waiting. He fucked my throat for an hour, denying me his cum as I was used. Satisfied and smiling, he finally released, cumming hard down my throat, sighing as I licked and sucked his cock clean when he was finished. Worshipping his balls, Master patted my head, saying how proud he was of his little cumbreath sissy. Beaming and blushing, I giggled, my mouth not daring to stop until told so.

He cupped my chin, that piercing stare returning, as I was told my training was finished. I had become the perfect sissy cocksucker for him, and it was time to put my mouth to the test. Master smiled as my eyes widened, not explaining his meaning any further, simply resting my head next to his cock while I whimpered in frustration. But just like I didn't need to worry if I would ever cum again, worry if Master would ever fuck me, worry what he would make me wear, or who he would make me please, I simply didn't need to worry about what he meant. I was his good girl, and I did what I was told.

My devotion to serve him was certainly tested, burning with humiliation as he dressed me for the evening. Pink, shiny nylons encased my legs and arms, a ridiculous texture and colour. Master laughed as he draped my dress over me, bright pink frills and petticoats, ruffled and puffy all around. A thin strap attached to my wrist, moving the hem of my silly dress with each arm movement, furthering my humiliation. To top it all off, my matching pink heels pushing the dress even higher up my ass, and a bow in my wig. Master smiled at his masterpiece, knowing full well how much I despised it, looking like a silly little sissy doll.

My face matched the dress as he led me by the leash into a club, greeted by so many laughing and giggling faces. I burned as I felt so many hands playfully bounce my petticoats up and down, giving a perfect curtsy to each person my Master showed me off to. Yet through it all, my clit ached in its cage, enjoying the public humiliation, so desperate to cum, always desperate to cum. Master had trained my personal desire out of me, knowing I was simply a sissy cocksucker. His sissy cocksucker. Pleasuring and swallowing the very thing I happily gave away control of, wanting nothing more than to serve.

After my parade ended, I silently thanked Master as he led me to the back, a tiny little room with a locking door. Kneeling down, I stared up at Master as he hooked my leash to the wall, that commanding gaze drinking in the silly sissy before him. Leaning down, centimeters from my face, he left me with one simple command.

Time to be my good girl

I whimpered, knowing what was expected of me, knowing what I had been trained for. My fate was sealed with a locked door, patiently kneeling and waiting for what was to come. Not having to wait long, a cock sliding through one of the holes in my temporary prison. Without hesitation, I moaned as I took it in my mouth, lips quickly going to work as I shoved this mystery cock down my throat. Relishing in the hidden groans behind the wall, I giggled with joy when I quickly forced his orgasm into my mouth, cleaning and swallowing as I had so many times with Master. Kissing the tip as a thank you, that familiar taste of cum inside of me, I went to work on another that replaced it.

I didn't know how long Master would leave me here, or how many cocks I would pleasure. I didn't need to know, my focus simply on each one, pleasuring and sucking as best I could, a chorus of moans and grunts behind the wall as I swallowed load after load. I treated each orgasm as my own, moaning with its owner, so happy to make them cum. I was where I belonged, where I had trained to be, the perfect sissy on her knees, with a cock in her mouth. Different sizes, colours, shapes, and tastes, all of them eagerly accepted and pleasured.

After what felt like hours, Master opened the door to an exhausted and sore sissy. My mouth ached, my stomach groaned from all the cum I'd swallowed, my panties soaked from my excitement. My need. Yet, seeing my owner, my Master, I couldn't help but smile, so happy that I fulfilled his wishes. That I was his good girl. Still blushing as he led me out by my leash, thanking people again with curtsies for the opportunity to be a sissy cocksucker for the evening, simply content as long as I wore Master's collar.

Master brought me back to that club many times, a regular in my little booth. Most of the time my outfits were much prettier than the first one, and far less humiliating, although he did still make me wear it when he felt I was becoming too much of a brat. He would always have friends drop by on my cleaning days, an open invitation to use his cocksucking maid. I'd always happily stop whatever chore I was working on, moaning with my lips wrapped around their cock. After a year of being Master's sissy I had swallowed so many orgasms I'd lost count, my own clit continuously locked away, denied.

Yet, many times each week, Master would still use his sissy. Under the table during his meals, between his legs on the couch, lying on the bed face down, even on his patio on nicer days. Master's cock was still my favourite, his cum still savouring, addicting, the taste never quite leaving me. While I certainly hoped someday I got to feel him use me in other ways, fantasising about his cock thrusting in and out of my ass, I didn't care when or if that happened.

Master had turned me into his little sissy toy. His cocksucker. Nothing made me happier than being on my knees, lips wrapped around a yummy cock, expertly forcing their cum into my mouth. I had given up my clit for it, my orgasms, my asshole. It was who I wanted to be, my role in serving my Master, my purpose. Trained and conditioned, I knew it was something I now needed in my life, something I couldn't part with.

Staring down at his sissy, I beamed under the praise and admiration in his eyes. Each time I serviced my Master's cock, I knew I had become exactly what he wanted. The title I had and continued to earn. Collar firmly around my neck, cage safely wrapped around my clit, I happily moved my head up and down, never tiring of those eyes drinking me in, knowing what I was in my Master's mind.

His perfect little cocksucker