Sissy Prayers and Offerings

My legs quivering, my heart racing in anticipation of the night ahead, I gather up enough courage and go to ring the doorbell. Before I do, I pause and think of how wild it is that I'm standing here on the front steps of a cute but otherwise nondescript Ranch house more than one hundred miles away from my home.

I'm at the home of my Goddess, and tonight is worship service. My first time.

The long drive should have given me plenty of time to reflect on all the events that have taken place over the past so many months, from my initial contact with the radiant woman gracing my Twitter feed, to the many online sessions spent pleading to let me serve her as she saw fit. But, oh the sheer desperation I felt during that four-plus hour drive, my poor cock aching inside its tight prison cage! Its poison pained me. That ache, however, also kept me singularly focused, to the point where all I could think of was her hold on me and my need to make her happy. There was no room for looking back. All I could imagine, all I could focus on, was what might transpire tonight.

My GPS drew me like a magnet to her place without a hitch, my mind, my body, my entire being on an autopilot lured to her lair. I don't remember getting out of the car or making my way up her front walk, but here I am, at her doorstep. I feel the foggy delirium of the day lifting as my finger touches the bell, and then seconds later the door inches open.

In an instant I'm transformed into an electrified nervous wreck. My Goddess is here. Right here! As in actually in front of me, in person!

I'd be a stammering mess were I not rendered slack-jawed, so instead I appear before her as a muted, speechless mess. She must have come out of the shower only a few minutes ago, her shoulder-length hair still glistening wet, every one of her curves rippling into the black, silky gown flowing to her ankles. My chest heaves in near hyperventilation at the sight, and with each breath my lungs soak in more and more of her devilish, sweet perfume. She bats her thick, dark eyelashes at me, and with her blue-green eyes enchants me into a simultaneous sensation of pure warmth and wickedness. Her magenta lips then smile, commanding for me to step in and close the door, and as soon as I do, her smile drops. Her index finger extends downward and, like magic, I feel myself sinking to my knees before her, my head drooping further toward the floor by her one bare foot, while her other foot forces itself against my skull, keeping me there.

"Welcome to my temple," she says with not one hint of irony to her voice. "You may kiss the floor right next to my toes, but absolutely no touching me."

I do as she instructs, my lips tasting the hardwood, so close to her lovely fuchsia painted toe-nails, imagining the feel of my lips touching the teeniest, tiniest part of her body. So, so close.

"Good boy," I hear her coo, her sincerity seeping into me. "Knowing your place before your Goddess is key." She snaps her fingers and I snap into full attention. "Okay, time to stand up now. You don't have to avert your eyes, though, silly -- I'm all covered up and so safe for you to look at." Her warm smile returning. "So, do you like what you see?"

Still rendered without voice, I nod my head dumbly and emphatically.

"Oh you're so adorable! You're going to fit in perfectly with us. Let's go check in on Doug and Tammy and see how they're doing."

She pirouettes around and begins floating us toward a room off the side of the hallway, evidently a den or study of some sort. The details of the room, however, are of no particular importance, for the only focal point worth noting is the six-foot-plus gentleman in the tight white t-shirt lounging back on a deep mahogany colored reading chair, his light-grey wool trousers undone and his boxers slipped down his thighs. Of most significance, though, is his bulging cock, or at least the occasional appearance of his cock, covered and disguised momentarily every so often by a set of hot-pink painted lips slurping and swallowing up and down the length of his throbbing shaft.

Those pink lips belong to the daintily decorated sissy in the frilly and ruffled powder-blue with pink trim romper. She's currently situated on her knees with her hands behind her back, her big pink bow in her hair jangling with each forward gulp of her mouth. I know of her only as Tammy, and though we have spoken online with each other before, this is the first time I am seeing her in person. Again, I find myself unable even to gasp out any utterance of emotion.

Tammy pays us no mind and continues her duty, as the man, Doug, cranes his head in our direction and welcomes us.

"Ah, this must be the newest acolyte. I'd get up and walk over to you, but as you can see I'm already quite up as it is." With that, he grabs Tammy's head with both hands and pulls her face balls deep onto him, holding her face there for a few seconds before growling and shoving her head backward, propelling Tammy onto her backside, her fancy panties flailing around her thighs, her rouged cheeks splattered with Doug's cum. "Mmm, such a nice pre-dinner cocktail! And now I'm hungry for the main course."

"Dougie, baby," my Goddess's voice so syrupy sweet when speaking to her lover, "let Tammy go. And Tammy," her voice regaining its sternness, "go get Nick his appropriate attire. Nick will be joining us tonight for worship service."

With the wave of his hand, Doug dismisses the sissy, who then proceeds to prance out of the room and heads upstairs. Goddess turns and faces me.

"So, tell me," she asks. "Are you feeling excited?"

I realize that I haven't yet said a single word since coming here, and so my voice is weak when I speak. "Oh, oh yes, my Goddess, I'm feeling very, very excited."

"Oh, but not possibly too excited, huh?" she snickers. "Come on, show us. Show us how excited you can possibly get. All your clothes. Take them off."

The circulating central air has kept the temperature down in the room, but I'm starting to sweat all the same. This is it. The first moment of my true servitude to my superior Goddess. From this point on, I realize that I'm fully surrendering my vulnerability to her.

I quickly unbutton, unzip and undo all my clothes, letting them slide to the floor. Until the only thing I'm wearing is the small, metal chastity cage, inside of which my desperate and achy penis presently tries its best to get hard.

Goddess lifts her head and laughs. "See?! Look at it. So docile and unable to lift up its itsy-bitsy head. Oh, but from those tears it's crying, I do see your point -- you've got to be both incredibly excited and incredibly in agony at the same time. Which is fantastic because that's exactly how I want you to be."

Doug snorts a deep chuckle as he gets up and walks out of the room, ostensibly to go to the bedroom and wait for his woman. Our attention turns to Tammy, who strolls toward me with a garment bag draped on her arm.

"Yes. Now then, Tammy," Goddess commands, "attend to Nick here. Open the bag and show him what's inside."

With a "Yes, Goddess," Tammy nods her head and unzips the bag, pulling out a mauve, satiny babydoll nightie and matching panties. Their sheen seizing my gaze, I see Tammy then scooping up my discarded clothes and moving them outside of the room.

Goddess takes the two satiny items and holds them toward me. "This is a big step for you. You knew you were coming here to worship me, and now you see that I have some even bigger plans for you." She touches the top of the nightie to my chest and lets me feel it against my skin, knowing full well that by doing so she's entrapping me even more than she already has. She then encircles me, speaking softly into my ears. "Once these go on, you stop being Nick. You get to put Nick's cares, his stresses away and just become the best little sissy cuckold you can be for me. My simpering, agonizing, wonderful sissy girl Kristen."

She stands behind me, and for the next few moments guides me through my breathing, helping to release any residual second thoughts from my mind. She then coaxes my one foot up off the floor, easing it back down inside the opening of the panties, doing the same also for my other foot. As she draws the panties against my skin, I feel, to my amazement, my legs and thighs do their best to shimmy the panties to my hips, but Goddess takes her time teasing the frilly fabric upward, a deliberate, slow dance until she has my cock cradled in its shiny satin. She's likewise as mindful about slipping the negligee onto me and letting it slink down my chest. My knees begin to wobble, and just as I sense this is all becoming too much for me, she looks me in the eyes and smiles the warmest smile imaginable, her eyes conveying to me, "You can do this." This is the strongest and only nourishment I need to please her as always, as she deserves.

"Follow me," her voice returning to a cooler, more playful pitch, as I obey and stride behind her toward the master bedroom. Once there, I notice Doug sitting up against the headboard, practically naked beside a small pair of tight boxer briefs, and Tammy kneeling on the floor by the side of the bed.

"Tammy, girl," Mistress snaps her fingers, "stand up, come here and greet your new sissy sister, Kristen."

Her breast forms providing sweet swells to her romper's bodice, she rises and stands a foot across from me. For the first time tonight, her voice wavers as she speaks. "Hello, Kristen. I'm Tammy. It's nice to meet you."

During the quick greeting, she keeps her head lowered a bit. I hadn't noticed it before in the darker tint of the other rooms, but I can tell that Tammy's face is blushing red, though whether from excitement or humiliation I can't tell. When I look down and see poking through a strategically cut-out section of fabric in the center of her panties her caged cock with a pretty little pink bow and bells tied to it, when I see how it flitters and flutters, trying so hard to dance and to get hard, leaking a gooey ribbon of pre-cum from out the little hole in the middle, that's when I realize her blushing is both the product of her pent-up arousal and also the feeling of debasement being dressed like this in front of me.

Both, of course, products directly served up and ordered by our devil of a Goddess.

I reply a hello in return, feeling equally embarrassed and turned on, my own dick fit snugly inside its layers of metal and satin.

"Aww, look at the pathetic little cocklettes. You know, I think that's what I'll call you two from now on: my Cocklettes," she says, giggling at her own joke. "Locked up for me. It's the way you should be, always. It gives you purpose. In fact, Kristen, that's why I had you come over tonight. Tonight's the night when I anoint you into my temple and give you purpose." Posed with one hand on her hip, she extends her other elbow, crooking her finger our way and motioning us toward her. "Both of you. Stand behind me and on each side of me. Disrobe me for my lover."

I position myself on her left side, and Tammy on her right, and as soon as she unties the front knot and gives us a nod and an okay, we each begin to peel the delicate material off of her shoulders and lift her arms out of the sleeves. From our place behind her, we are blessed with unveiling the milky skin of her bare arms and legs juxtaposed against the lacy violet-colored teddy cupping the contours of her ass. Our cages twitch in reverence as she sashays over to the bed and lays herself down. But nothing compares to the sheer, terrific agony we experience as she rolls over on her back, resting against Doug's muscular chest, for then revealed to us is our Goddess in all her magnificence, still safely clothed, of course, but now her every curve is highlighted in its glory, hugged and presented as if in gift-wrapped splendor. I recognize how apropos that comparison is, because reclining before us indeed is a gift, of the highest, holiest order. Her body itself is the ultimate gift to her man, and we're the fortunate ones tasked with presenting it. That's why we're here. To serve her. We're to treasure any and all pleasure she receives -- this is our reward. That we are permitted the briefest of glimpses of her perfection is a bonus. I realize how warped it is, and the deep tease I feel swirling in my soul is devastating, yet though I want to grieve at all this unfairness, my heart swells with nothing but joy.

Doug's hands roam all over her, and she locks eyes with us the whole time, writhing and slinking her creamy body all over the sheets. She orders us to move ourselves toward the other side of the room, nearer to the wall and facing the bed.

"You're both practically drooling," she purrs, moaning, her lover massaging her breasts, encircling his one hand around her nipples and the other strumming down to her so-soft tummy and to the flare of her rounded thighs. "Don't you wish you could be here in bed with me...touching me...rubbing me...mmm...thrusting into me?" A high pitch squeal from her momentarily interrupts her teasing. "But no, sissies don't belong in bed with real women, do they? Their place is on the sidelines, rooting on their Goddess. So go on. You've seen plenty of me like this for the night. Time for you to worship. Take each other's hand and turn around. Yes, that's it. Walk to your altar. Kneel down and keep holding hands and cheer me on. Please your Goddess in this way."

We do as she tells us and trot, hand-in-hand, over to the pedestal table in the opposite corner of the room and fall fast to our knees. Positioned on top of the table and staring at us in full 8x10 glory are two photos framed in gilded gold: one, a close-up image of Goddess made-up and looking beautiful in a simple light blue t-shirt, and the other, a photo of her in a stark black latex catsuit, seated in an ornate throne-like chair and wearing stiletto-pointed boots and a scowl, a severe-looking crop resting on the lap of her crossed-legs. We kneel, awaiting her prompt.

"Oh fuck." Her moans build from behind us, confirming to us that she's starting to lose her composure. "Start saying your prayers to me now."

And so we do. We chant our memorized poem-prayer to her in unison, our cadence merged and in stereo. Over and over and over. Our hands gripping tightly with each "Oh!" and "Ah!" we hear from her, knowing that our words of devotion are also helping to push her toward the edge. Our denial, our submission helping to fuel her carnal cravings. Over and over we gaze at those two photos, our stare complete and hypnotic, barely even blinking. Locked forever into the eyes of our Goddess, our beautiful demon, her stare penetrating us totally, seeing into and claiming our inner souls, our chaste little cocklettes hating and loving every moment of it.

As we chant our mantra, we hear her breathing increase, her words of encouragement directed to her man sounding less and less coherent. She's feeding on us, feeding on our submission. She's on the brink. We can all feel it. Her heated energy permeates the entire room. We raise our voices loud. Over and over. Louder. The progression of words keep pumping along. Her moans transforming into ecstatic cries. Our hands clasping each other hard. Our cages wobbling, flapping. Helpless. Her cries becoming screams. Her fever pulsing through the two of us, our fingernails digging into our sissy palms. Feeling her heat cresting. Pounding. Throbbing. Boiling. Gripping so hard. Flailing up and down in desperation desire torture suffering surrender need. Need. Need. Her eyes in those portraits locked on ours. Staring deeply into us. Owning us. Owning us!

"OH!" Her frenzied call of orgasmic release is the most pleasant sound in the world. We cease our mantra and lower our heads all the way to the floor. The bed's occupants take a few minutes floating through their high, as Tammy and I take a few moments ourselves to genuflect and give quiet thanks for being able to give of ourselves so much. Thankful for the miracle in which we've partaken.

As they cuddle on the bed, we rise to our feet, stop holding hands and, keeping our eyes averted away from their direction, separate into two corners of the room, standing there with our hands clasped together behind our backs, our Goddess luxuriating in her deserving after-glow.

Heaven only knows how long we wait like that before we hear her voice rescuing us, calling us back.

"Okay you two," she addresses us. "All safe. You can both turn around."

I turn and see that she once again has fastened the robe around herself, shielding our gaze from her blinding beauty. She stands before us and smiles, pointing downward. We sink to our knees and she wiggles her bare toes in front of us. "Go on. You may thank me."

Each of us directed to one foot, we plant one sole kiss on her big toe, and then look up to her. She towers over us, hands on her hips, and she smiles. We each thank her profusely, grovelling before her.

"You made your Goddess extremely happy. You may stand back up. Tammy," she motions to the door, "go get Kristen's male costume and wait for us by the front door."

Walking away from Goddess's bedroom, this sacred temple, I feel both sad and fulfilled. My duty done, my worship service finished, I know that it's almost time to leave this hellishly hot and holy place and step back out into the world, though now I will do so anointed as a proper disciple. That thought alone uplifts my spirit (if not my poor cocklette!) to no end.

By the time Goddess leads me to the foyer, Tammy is standing there holding my shirt, slacks and shoes, though missing is my pair of boxers. Goddess notes my curiosity and explains, "I had Tammy shred your silly male underwear. Just as you'll do to all of the remaining pairs you have at home. Shred them up completely and toss them out. Panties only for Kristen from now on."

I nod my head at her command and take the clothes from Tammy, stumbling as if drunk putting them back on.

Goddess holds the door open for me. "Goodnight, Kristen." Her eyes sparkling, her sweet voice a balm. I bid her and Tammy goodnight as well and step outside.

And as I get to the sidewalk, heading back to my car, I hear the rich, flowery tones of my Goddess calling my name once more, echoing out to me throughout the neighborhood those two words that make me shake and shiver.

"Good girl!"