Young Sissy Ch. 03

I wasn't sure what to say...I knew I'd say whatever they wanted to hear if it meant I got to cum, but I was at a loss. The truth was, before Isabella seduced and sissified me, I'd never even thought of another guy that way, and certainly not these four. In fact, I wasn't so sure why I found them so attractive now. Brad certainly fit the classic cocky stud stereotype that always seemed to make me drool, and Gareth was almost cute for a little guy, plus he had a big cock, which went a long, hard way towards making up for his personality flaws. But the other two were doughy, dopey, and demented, and yet I couldn't stop myself from imaging them covering me in sloppy kisses and groping my fleshy bits with their clumsy hands. It must have been all my training, at least I hoped it was. And realizing that gave me an idea on how to come up with the squirmy stories they were hoping for. Byron would never have imagined the types of revelations they were waiting for, but Belle could come up with stories that would give their cocks goosebumps.

"Well, I never wanted to admit zis, but when we were in ze showers, I would always sneak a peek at your cocks." As soon as I said it, the image flashed before my mind, nervously blushing as the hot water kissed my soft skin, doing nothing to the goosebumps covering my skin as I imagined what they might do if they caught me...forcing me to my knees and giving me a much stickier shower...

"Hmm...well I could have guessed that one, but the part about the goosebumps was sexy...hmm..." as Brad pondered my fate, I clasped my hand to my mouth, worrying I might say something else out loud with out realizing it. My hand grew wet with drool, and did nothing to hide the moans and whimpers squirming between the cracks of my fingers as the pressure on my overstimulated prostate grew to critical mass. I was ready to remove my hand and let whatever string of obscene entreaties my depraved mind could come up with drip out along with my drool. But just in time, Brad mercifully said, "sigh, alright, you can cum."

I didn't so much hear the word as feel it...tearing through me like a living thing, all fangs and claws dripping with bloody bliss, the intensity so profound it took a moment to realize it wasn't pain. No...it was sooooo much better than that. It wasn't pleasure either, because pleasure is just a sensation, and this was so much more than that...it was release. I shouldn't have been surprised, this was fast becoming my new favorite hobby, feeling my spirit flying free from my hard little clit and escaping the terrible labyrinth of my mind. But that was what was so breathtakingly beautiful about it...it was so complex, so vast, it was like getting a glimpse of Heaven through a peep hole, no matter how many times you looked, you could only see glimpses, and it was never enough.

I finally came to in time to feel my spasming muscles milking a gallon of Brad's seed into my thirsty cunt. I cried out only to have my mouth stuffed full of Harold's hog. I wondered why he wasn't scrambling to fill the achingly empty place left by Brad, only to feel Nathan plowing into me, filling me with one thrust and wasting no time before fucking me with rabbit-like determination. I wouldn't have wanted to get between Nathan and a tight hole if I was Harold either, and I definitely didn't want to since I was me. He wasn't the biggest or thickest I'd had, but he was fast, and at this point, all I needed was to hear the word...but the word didn't come, so neither could I. Through the panic and lust, my mind finally gained enough purchase to remember what I had to do if I wanted to cum...

"SUCK eet is tres embarrassant to admit zees, but I used to sneak into ze locker room after ze showers and sniff your jockies." The thought of my little prick, hard and leaking, my heart in my throat and the smell of their sweat so strong it brought stinging tears to my eyes, the fear of getting caught and the secret hope that I would, that I'd be pinned up against the lockers and feel their hard cocks sliding up my...

"Fuck, that's the hottest shit I've ever heard, but I'd rather your mouth be on my cock that talking about getting fucked up against the lockers." Harold chortled at my inability to maintain an internal monologue and I wondered if I'd ever reach the point where it was no longer possible to feel more ashamed than I already was, but I didn't have time to think on it long, as Harold bellowed, "Fuck it! I want my turn! So CUM already, Belle!" and just like that, I was free and flying this time getting a completely different perspective of Heaven...a bird's eye view as I hurtled past it, it's beauty and brilliance flashing by in a blur...

I landed back on the filthy mattress with the impact of a shooting star, still smoldering as Nathan emptied his load inside me. Harold finally worked up the nerve to slip in behind me, lifting his stomach over my ass so he could fit his short, fat prick inside my quivering hole. He was just big enough to tickle my goo spot and wide enough to stretch me taut and tender. It added a pinch of pain to the mix and it was exactly the spice I was looking for to overpower the stench of his greasy skin and the slug like caress of his lips on my back. Gareth, last in line as usual, crawled in front of me and slid his impressive prick in between my titillated tits. He was long enough to get a nice suck off his head with every upward motion, a lovely lolly for a good little sissy like me. It was getting harder and harder to think. Every time I came, I seemed to need relief that much more when it was over. It was like I was being force fed with a hole in my gut, and I was far from full...

"Pleez, don't make me tell you zis one, eet is too terrible...oh if I must...I used to draw your dicks in my notebook in class...zen I would write my name on zem over and over, claiming zem for my own. I wanted to be your cock copine, wanted to espouse vous dicks and be vous ball bride!" I didn't even try to keep my filthy fantasies inside anymore. I didn't see the point. I'd already sold my present and future, and now I was selling my past one spurt at a time...and considering it one Hell of a bargain...

"CUM you filthy whore, CUM!" Gareth spit in my face, but with the kindness of his words, he might as well have been blowing me a wet kiss...I came twice as hard with his permission, flying twice as far...way past Heaven...into the depths of Hell, enjoying the forbidden pleasures of the damned, burning and begging to never be saved...only after an eternity rising like smoke until I found myself hanging in mid-air, sucking on Brad's powerful neck, trying to blot out the mind rending agony of his cock forcing its way inside my ass right along Gareth's...

Suddenly, I was stone cold sober, the straight shot of pure Hell sliding slowly up my tight cunt waking me from my fuck fugue. I looked around the room, taking in the filthy ambiance of the back alley suite, seeing the disgust on the faces of my 'clients'...Nathan and Harold stroking themselves back to full mast, waiting for a chance to use an open hole. In that moment, I wondered about how far I had fallen, no how far I had dived...how quickly I had descended into the dark depths of my own depravity. And I wondered why...who was I really doing this for? Why did I want to be the 'perfect' sissy. These men didn't think it was perfection they were looking at, so whose eyes was I trying to catch? Master Darren's? Isabella? They seemed like the angels vying for my soul, but I didn't know which one was Hell's Angel and which was an angel of mercy...or whether it mattered. Whatever the truth, it was soon lost in ecstasy. Apparently my inner turmoil had been spilling out of my lips in one long moan of barely coherent confessions. It was enough to earn Brad's permission to, "Cum as much as you want, you sick little queer, just stop talking."

I must have blissed out at that point, because what little I remembered of the events that followed was painted in broad, bizarre strokes...a Goya gangbang of flesh eating demons, Blake's avenging angel's taking my ass again and again, the cosmos themselves stretching around me like tendrils, the heat of stars born inside me, my body going supernova as I experienced multiple Big Bangs...reality created and obliterated in the same eternal instant...and I'm pretty sure one of them came in my ear at one point...

I don't know how much time actually passed when I woke to Brad removing my bonnet, filled to the brim and spilling down the sided with their collected cum...I opened my mouth obediently...it wasn't even a choice...it was a reflex. I drank it down, the only fluids I was allowed all day save for their salty sweat...it filled the empty space another piece of my soul used to fill. I was down to resin now...nothing but an echo of a fantasy, and I wasn't even sure it was mine. But I knew I couldn't get enough of the taste of cum...and the more I tasted, the more I realized it didn't remind me of some obscure delicacy after all...because nothing tasted as good as cum...

I must have shown them quite a time, because after watching me drain every last drop of semen from my bonnet, they laughed and each stuck a tip onto my semen sticky skin. I made an extra four dollars for my Masters...I was so proud. All I could do was lay there and smile, feeling like a living puddle of splooge...content to slip back into unconsciousness...too weak to even crawl out the door.

Luckily, they foresaw this eventuality and sent two of the rubber clad, masked guards who carried me to the showers and scrubbed me clean with all the warmth and compassion as you'd wash a dog that had just finished rolling around in its own mess. But it was more than I felt I deserved, and I was infinitely grateful, cuddling up to them as they carried me to my cot. They even tucked me in...

That night I dreamed I was back in the meadow, but I saw a forest off in the distance that I hadn't noticed before. And not a moment to soon. As I was soon pursued by four hunters on horseback. I ran on all fours, feeling the heat of their horses' breath hot on my back. I was so close, almost in the forest, where I could lose them, where I'd be safe...that's when I felt the shot rip through me...

I woke up smiling for some reason...

Cryday...

But I wasn't smiling for long. For a moment I thought I was still asleep, as Contessa pulled me out of my cot by my hair, but the pain was all too real. "Wake up, fuck pig...we have to talk!" I would have been more than happy to talk to her, in fact I would have said anything to get her to free my hair from her vice-like grip, but she didn't seem interested in anything I had to say, ignoring my whimpers and whines as she dragged me down the halls, one scalp torturing step at a time. It was always so confusing being bullied by a sissy that had been used with all the respect he'd show a restroom wall. I could get a good look at her toned ass cheeks as she pulled me painfully behind her, and I wondered how I'd come to be dominated by a sissy with 'fuck' tattooed on her left buttock and 'hole' tattooed on her right, with bright red arrows pointing to, well to her fuck hole.

Ultimately the 'how' or even the 'why' of my dilemma didn't worry me as much as the 'what now' question that kept screaming in my head. When we got to The Playroom, I realized I wasn't going to get away with a spanking and a stern lecture. So I did what I do best...I begged. "Pleez, I beg of you! Whatever I did, excusez-moi! I weel do anyzing to make it up, just don't hurt me."

I might as well have asked for mercy from the Devil herself, Contessa just snorted contemptuously as she yanked me up by my roots and tossed me onto a St Andrew's cross. I didn't fight her as she shackled my wrists and ankles, knowing it would only make her angrier. I just waited for her to do her worst, and hoped it wouldn't be worse than I was imagining it would be. Once she had me firmly secured, she began petting my little sissy sack, causing my clit to throb and rise to it's full two inches of glory. I waited breathlessly to feel her nails dig into my tender flesh, but she just kept petting and stroking stoking the hungry flames of my all consuming lust.

"You know, Belle, I was really upset with you when I heard you beat my bitch in a sissy fight. And after I warned you to show kept sissies the proper respect..." She cooed in my ear, but it was a hollow sound, a cruel mockery of kindness...I waited for the other heel to drop. "And I hear that you convinced your trainer to put the Whammy on you...that you can't cum without permission now...no matter how bad you need to..." I realized exactly what kind of trouble I was in as she reached her hand behind me and started sliding a buttplug up my quivering asshole, the vibrations massaging my g-spot and sending me into convulsions. "So I've decided that instead of punishing you, I'd feed my little fuck pig." She slinked away slowly, seductively swaying her hips like a cruel wave goodbye. "And don't worry, I'm sure someone will rescue you...eventually."

As ridiculous as that sounded, that pesky feeling of desperate hope reared its ugly head, telling me someone would be along any minute now. If only I could just have given up maybe it wouldn't have been so agonizing. Sure, my clit still would have felt like it was trying to pass a tight rubbery ball of cum...getting bigger and bigger with every second my plug shook the orgasms loose from my pussy, but at least I could have resigned myself to it. Nothing is worse than waiting for the hope you know deep down isn't coming, tearing yourself apart inside with indecision and worry. Should I call out? But what if SHE hears me?! What happens if I'm late to my morning workout? How long has it been anyway? Please...please tell me it's been at least an hour...it feels like twenty. These were the thoughts racing through my head as I struggled helplessly against my bonds, but they were too slippery to hold on to, leaving me asking the same questions over and over without coming any closer to an answer...or any closer to cumming for that matter.

I began to wonder what I could have done differently. After all, this was my fault...it just had to be. If I was getting punished and I didn't deserve it, well that was just unthinkable. If I could be punished even when I was good, well then nothing made sense. Up was down, right was wrong, and being good was bad...and I was fucked. Eventually I decided that even if I didn't do anything wrong, I still deserved to be punished for all the stuff I did when I thought I was a man, that or they were testing me. Whatever the reason, there had to be a reason, no matter how hard it was for me to understand. But that didn't stop me from trying...

So that's how I spent most of my day, agonizing internally, both literally and figuratively, praying each second would be my last in this Hellish contraption and praying they would understand why I skipped my lessons today, even if it was totally my fault. Fortunately, even the worst of pleasure grows duller after enough time, and at some point my brain decided to say fuck it and take a nap. Everything went hazy...well hazier than usual, and I kind of drifted in and out. It was only when I was already being dragged through the halls by two of the leather guards that I realized I was free from the cross...only to be dragged into Hell. "Here we are, Room 101. Master Darius says she is to be brought to the punishment room for 'special attention'. I'd almost feel sorry for the poor little thing if she was anything more than a fuck sleeve."

I tried to scream out in my defense, even though I secretly suspected I had none, tried to beg for mercy, even though I knew for certain they had none, but all that came out was a pathetic whimper as they dragged me through the door and into the blindingly bright room...

"Belle...it's a pleasure to see you. Please, gentlemen, just set her down on the floor there and then you may go..." Darius seemed even more chilling than usual today...he looked pleased. His sharp features and dead eyes seemed ill suited for the soft smile playing on his lips. I couldn't breathe...just the thought of the shocks he gave me last time, the agony that ran through my veins like boiling blood....it was too much to bear...and he had promised it wouldn't ever be that gentle again...I tried to cry, to offer at least some expression of remorse, but I couldn't even do that. I was paralyzed with fear, all I could do was look around the room at every torture device ever imagined by man, all waiting hungrily for me. And these weren't the sexy kinds like in the Playroom...those could be scary enough. These were the kind of tools that took you beyond fear. Just as I was certain my heart would burst, providing the relief my clit had not, my eyes finally settled on the center of the room, on the table with straps I knew I was going to end up on...where, to my surprise, there was already another occupant...Contessa!

"Ah...I see you've noticed my little Cunt here is tied up at the moment..." Darius crossed over to her and with the most dreadful look of disappointment, took her head in hands, tilting her face so I could see her latest tattoo... "Spoiled brat...that's what it says, because that's what she is. Imagine my shock when a little sissy whispered in my ear that she thought she was in charge of the Basement. I certainly don't mind you sissies playing your little power games, but to find that she thought she had the right to keep you from your lessons...to impact our investment in you..." Darius looked down at her with a disgust that made my skin crawl. "Of course, I thought I trained her better than that, so I owe you an apology, Belle. But before I decide how Cunt should pay for that apology, tell me...what was it she had you call her when the adults weren't around?"

Darius looked right through me, and I knew there was no point in lying. He struck me as the kind of man that never asked a question he didn't already know the answer to. So with a guilty tremor I responded, "w-w-Well, I call her muh muh Mistress, but that was my idea, Master Darius...I'm so sorry." I could tell from his expression that he wasn't interested in my apologies and didn't want to hear any excuses I had for her, so I continued, "and she likes me to Contessa."

Darius face went dead calm, like a sniper about to pick off a target, an executioner about to flip a switch, a torture expert about to do whatever it was he was about to do. "Well, if I wanted her name to be Contessa I would have carved that into her forehead. But I didn't. I tattooed CUNT...not because that's her name, she doesn't have a name. I call her that, because that is what she is. A CUNT and nothing more...and the day I hear that a cunt has decided that it's a real girl is the day I teach it different." Darius still hadn't laid a hand on her, and his calm restraint had me much more worried than if he would have screamed or slapped her. And when he told me what my role I was to play in her punishment, I was ready to scream myself. "Now, you're probably wondering why I invited you to join us. The answer is simple...you will be administering this Cunt's punishment today. Go on, you can do anything you want to her and she won't dare seek retribution."

I looked at her, tied helplessly to the table, an expression of pure hatred marring her pretty face...well marring the parts that weren't already tattooed with slurs. I knew I what it felt like to be in her position, and as angry as I was at her for torturing me, I just couldn't bring myself to do the same to her. I knew I should, it was what my Master was expecting and everything in my training told me I should punish her for her own good...but a teeny tiny part of me was screaming for me to stop. It was even louder than the whisper of my conscience, and it was telling me that I wasn't like her, and I didn't want to be. "I eem sorry, Master Darius, but I cannot punish her. I do not want to hurt anyone."