The Daemon Adrastos *very short story from a dream*

Mistress Adrastos was a daemon; hugely muscled, black horns, red skin the whole nine yards. She had the ability to work magic, and she could change her body at will. She was as sadistic and psychotic as one would expect a Daemon Dominatrix to be. She delighted in torturing me in every way imaginable, but my puritan heterosexuality helped her to form her favorite torment. She would grow a large male cock, and force me to give her oral sex until she came.

Adrastos was a patient demigod, and my required method of stimulation was not to take her cock into my mouth and suck it. No, this would end my disgusted misery much too quickly. For on the few occasions she had allowed me to simply suck, I was able to bring her to orgasm and end the ordeal within a half hour or so. Instead, Mistress preferred to prolong the experience. I was required to slowly lick the bottom of her cock from the base to the tip, plant a passionate kiss on the head, make an exaggerated “Mmm” sound, and then lick again. Over and over.

This entire operation gave her just enough sexual stimulation that eventually she would come, but not for several hours and long after my neck, back and knees were so sore I could hardly bear it anymore. When she did finally come I was required to catch the copious gouts of sticky white daemon seed in my mouth and swallow them as fast as they spurted. She shot so much fiery hot satanic cum into my lips that by the time I was done drinking from her cock-fountain; my stomach was full, and usually even distended.

My mouth, throat and stomach burned as if I had just eaten a large plate of extra hot chicken wings, but with none of the good taste or nourishment. No in fact, though my stomach could not hold another ounce, I would always feel famished and exhausted afterword. It was then she would ask me what I was, and my required answer was: “I’m your cum dumpster”

**This was from a dream that I just had during a nap, and I will definitely be doing a picture of it.**

-I am a sissy writer and artist. If you want to check out my work for free, head over to DeviantArt If you like it and would like to see all of my exclusive work, as well as support me, head over to Patreon and pledge whatever amount you see fit.

Last night's dream

This is just a small excerpt from my dream. It's not a complete story, or even a chapter, but I just wanted to get it down in writing before the ether of my sleep cleared and I forgot the feelings.

Mistress Julia was able to put me deep into subspace like no other woman ever had. For instance, when she told me that she was going to give me a new name, I initially though it would be like a new nick name or a slave name to be used while I was at work (she was also my boss). Then it became clear that she meant an actual legal name change, which was quite shocking and thrilling.

Then she made it clear that I would have absolutely no input into what my new name was to be. All of that was extremely conducive to submissive feelings, but the blow that almost made me pass out with waves of submissively erotic feelings was when she announced it to the whole company. It was a big meeting, and she revealed it on a large screen that I couldn’t see.

She made sure that for the rest of the day, everyone knew my name except me. Every person I saw or talked to that day seemed like my Master or Mistress. They knew the biggest and most important detail about me, and I was not allowed to know. Mistress just kept calling me boy all day, and I was dizzy with that pleasurable mix of humiliation, degradation and eroticism.

I absolutely exuded submission, and it seemed to come across. Men would sneer at me; ladies who would have normally never done such a thing would be physically touchy with me, patting me like a dog, or stroking my arm. The whole time, I didn’t know who I was, or even when Mistress Julia would allow me to find out.

-I am a sissy writer and artist. If you want to check out my work for free, head over to DeviantArt If you like it and would like to see all of my exclusive work, as well as support me, head over to Patreon and pledge whatever amount you see fit.

Another short self bondage story (this one is fictitious)

I stood on my back porch at night. It was 1:30 am, and all of the lights in the neighborhood were out. The door was closed behind me, but unlocked. I am a man, and was wearing a very short pink dress with a puffy petticoat that held the dress out to my sides, revealing the silk panties I was also wearing.

On my chest a bra containing a huge pair of fake boobs, and a blonde pigtail wig on my head. I had pink nylon stockings on and a pair of five inch spiked shoes, also pink. The shoes were a special pair I ordered which had locks on them making it impossible to remove them unless I retrieved the key which was inside.

I stood at attention with my hands on my hips, and enjoying the buzzing of the vibrator which was strapped around my cock, and tucked into my tight panties. I had shaved my legs and chest for this occasion, as well as put on a gaudy amount of makeup on my face. I had even written the word “bimbo” on my forehead in lipstick.

It was dark outside, and no one could see me very well even if they were awake. If it were daylight, there were a half dozen houses around me who’s occupants could have a clear view of me in my ridiculous sissy outfit.

The vibrator buzzed, and I could feel the first hints of the orgasm building. I gripped the pen sized device I had built which had a red button at the end.

As my orgasm got closer, I moved my thumb just to the tip of the button. The key now was to time this perfectly. I needed to push the button just a couple of seconds before I came. If I did that, the button would set off a series of events that would drastically heighten my orgasm, as well as make for a very panicked and interesting few minutes immediately after my orgasm.

If I waited until I started to cum, I would lose my nerve and not push the button, and nothing unusual would happen. I’d have a nice squirt into my panties, and go into my house thanking my lucky stars I’d chickened out.

I felt my penis start to have the glowing feeling it gets, and I decided to be adventurous and press the button now even though I may not cum for another ten or twenty seconds.

When I pressed the button, the device executed its commands. All of the doors and windows in my house (except the front door) locked. The back porch light right above me turned on, as well as every other light in the house and the front porch light.

I realized my plight, and that any of my back yard neighbors who were awake and near their windows would have a perfect and well illuminated view of me in my outfit. There was nothing I could do about this except walk to the front door which was even more exposed. Though I’d be a laughing stock and a pariah if they saw this, I wasn’t technically doing anything illegal, as no one but me could tell there was a vibrator buzzing away under my panties and I wasn't technically exposing myself.

I was so horny that I actually hoped the lights turning on would wake some of my neighbors up so they could see how pretty I looked. I even stood taller and smiled hugely out into the darkness of the back yard that I now couldn’t see from the spotlight of the porch.

I came, hard into my panties, almost doubling over in spasms of pleasure. I was heaven. Then immediately it was hell. What the fuck had I been thinking? The back yard neighbors could have possibly seen me, but at least there were only a few of them. The moment I went to my front yard, there would be at least a dozen houses with a perfect view of me. Not to mention the street that would have traffic even this late at night, and sometimes even insomniac walkers or bike riders.

There was nothing to do about it. If I wanted to get into my house, I’d have to run to the front yard and in thorough my front door. I had two flood lights illuminating the front yard, and the front porch light was on. It was brighter than a sports field during a night game, and I had to walk that gauntlet in my five inch heels which made it virtually impossible for me to hurry.

I crept around the side yard in relative darkness, and peeked out to my front lawn and the street. Everything looked ok, except there was a car parked right in front of my house which I didn’t recognize. It was probably just paranoia, but I swore I could see a person sitting in the driver’s seat. It was too dark though. I stood there for a long time deciding what to do.

My feet were starting to kill me, and the buzzing vibrator was driving my over sensitive cock insane. I didn’t dare reach inside my panties to turn it off because if anyone was watching, it would look like masturbating and that WOULD get me arrested. I made the quickest dash for it I could to my front door. An eternity later after walking through a virtual field of spotlights in this sissy outfit, I got to the door and turned the nob. It was locked!

Oh my god, I’d forgotten that I had programmed it to lock also. I’d hidden the key in my mailbox which was at the very far end of my front lawn. I didn’t have the will to think about it, I just teetered off towards the mailbox as fast as I could, and grabbed the key. As I walked back, I looked again at the strange car, now that I wasn’t in the light, I could see that what had looked like someone sitting in the driver’s seat, was someone sitting in the driver’s seat. It was a woman, and she was watching me with a smirk on her face.

I realized I could see her face because a light was illuminating it. Not just any light. It was a cell phone. She was filming me.

The End?

-I am a sissy writer and artist. If you want to check out my work for free, head over to DeviantArt If you like it and would like to see all of my exclusive work, as well as support me, head over to Patreon and pledge whatever amount you see fit.

My self bondage session tonight (real true and actual)

So, I'm a big self bondage fan. I've done many many scenarios in my life. My m.o. is to sissify myself, then arrange the bondage so that AFTER I have an orgasm, THEN I have to risk exposure. It's a fun game I play, because post-orgasm Jizelle want's NOTHING to do with feminization. It's like Dr. Jizelle and Mrs. Hyde are playing a game of chess. Mrs Hyde tries to arrange it so that Dr. Jizelle HAS to expose himself, or at least risk it. Of course, Dr. Jizelle is VERY motivated to get around whatever traps or bondage Mrs. Hyde set up.

Having said that, let me explain today's scenario. It mostly centers around a new vibrating cock ring I bought for myself. Having tried it on and seeing that it would work nicely, I prepared my house. I have a very 5 x 6 picture window in my living room. It looks out onto the street I live on. I took the curtains off, and washed the window so the inside would be as visible as possible.

Next I took my trusty handcuff key, and used gorilla tape to tape it to the window at mouth level. I even used a couple of extra pieces of this stuff to make sure it would be very difficult (nearly impossible) for me to get it off with my teeth. (which is how I'd have to do it since I was going to handcuff my hands behind my back.)

It was still a bit darker inside than out, so I decided that turning on every light in the room would be a nice touch. Thinking ahead and knowing the first thing Dr. Jizelle would do is go around and turn off all the lights before heading to the window to start biting at the tape, I used more gorilla tape to hold all of the light switches in place. This way, even if that spoiled sport Dr. Jizelle took the time to peel the tape off and turn out the lights, it would waste time, and he'd be trapped wearing an awful french maid uniform in full view of the window, the a vibrator now tormenting a very sensitive cock AND all the while the light outside would be getting dimmer. So this was a no brainier for Mrs. Hyde.

Next I got dressed in my favorite french maid outfit. Inserted a nice butt plug (which used to vibrate, but sadly stopped working a long time ago. Why are sex toys so cheap?) Got the handcuffs ready, and took my most devious pair of 6 inch spiked heel shoes with an ankle strap into my office.

Sitting down at my chair, I strapped the shoes on which would make them extremely difficult to remove without the use of my hands. This is an extra terrible torment to that killjoy Dr. Jizelle as we can both barely barely walk in them, though Mrs. Hyde enjoys the sensation of teetering around in them while Dr. Jizelle just finds it painful and exhausting. I turned on the new cock-ring vibrator, tucked it into my black silk panties (mmm) sat down at my desk to navigate to a porn video that would last long enough for me to get off on the vibrator.

I know myself, and it takes me much longer to cum using a vibe than if I just masturbate with my hand. Ten or fifteen minutes of concentration usually. I decided to do one last devious thing to Dr. Jizelle, and that is instead of navigating to femdom, or even sissy porn, I decided to put on a video that holds no sexual appeal to me, and would leave me feeling extra post orgasm guilty. I navigated to a cross dresser getting ass fucked by a dude with a huge cock.

As you've heard me talk before, you know that I consider sex to be a very complicated and intricate thing. I also believe I'm quite honest with myself (and you) about what I'm into. So when I tell you that I'm not into guys getting ass fucked, even if it's a dude who is cross dressed, I hope you'll believe me. The fact that I'm not into it is what heightened the experience for me. I knew that the MOMENT I came, Dr. Jizelle would start to fret about being gay or not. And that the old curmudgeon would either have to leave the video playing as she tries to make her escape, or waste valuable time fumbling round to shut off the video.

Withe the porno vid going, clad in my cutest sissy outfit, massive breast forms stuffed in my bra, butt plug up my bum and cock right vibrating away, I reached behind my back, and snapped the cuffs on. Now was that delicious moment of "I'm fucked" the only way for me to get free was to go to the big front window and stand in full view right at the window and slowly chew the corners of this super strong tape away till I can get to the key.

I also had a backup release of a second key put outside and easily reachable, but I'd have to walk outside in full view of my back yard neighbors.

I settled back into my chair, watching the video and enjoying the vibrator tickling my stiffening cock. I noticed that the vibrator wasn't very strong, and I hoped it wouldn't take me a half hour to come. The video played, and I saw that the cross dresser was a actually a dude who'd gone the extra mile and had breast implants. (something I want to do one day if I ever get so rich from my art that I don't have to leave the house) I personally will get the largest implants that are physically possible. Anyway, this fact heightened the video for me, and I sat back to concentrate on my hard-on.

Ten minutes later I hadn't come, and wasn't even getting close. This vibrator just wasn't very powerful. I decided to up the ante, and walk into the front room. I was going to stand in front of the window and see if the higher chance of exposure would add to the turn on, and get me off quicker.

A word about my outfit. It isn't indecent. Nothing that would get one arrested, and since my vibrator was hidden in my panties, I wasn't really in danger of being arrested (or so I think.)

I stood there at the window and sure enough, the extra risk was a turn on, but the vibrator was just sooo weak. I started humping the glass to help it along, and then I realized. The damn battery was dying! I wasn't going to get to cum!

Some times Mrs. Hyde wins, Sometimes Dr. Jizelle does, and sometimes neither do. As I realized my fun was over with no orgasm in prospect, Dr. Jizelle made his reluctant appearance. Sure enough, the outfit was no fun at all. First thing was the GET THOSE FUCKING SHOES OFF no matter what.

I thrashed and kicked, with my left toe wedging into my right shoe and holly shit, I got the shoe off, then the right one came off. I quickly walked over to the window and realized that I had made a mistake. I'd taped the key slightly too high for my mouth to reach. I mean I could touch it, but I couldn't get an angle to get the corner of the tape. This meant that I'd have to come up with some plan C, or I'd have to do plan B and walk outside in broad daylight with the neighbors able to look out and see me.

I found a long pole by the side of my fridge, and managed to use it very awkwardly to scrape at the tape. It took FOREVER to get it loose. I mean like fifteen minutes or so. The entire time I could hear Mrs. Hyde laughing inside my head. "You may have found a way around your mistake, but your doing EXACTLY what I wanted. You're standing in front of your giant window in broad daylight with the lights all on in your sissy maid outfit! If any of the neighbors walk out, there is no way you'll get out of sight in time."

I tried to shove this talk to the back of my mind as I FINALLY go the tape off of the window enough to walk up and clutch it with my teeth and peel it off.

Very carefully I walked it to the kitchen counter, and laid it down so I could pick it up behind my back. It was then I remembered that you have to put the handcuffs on the right way, with the keyhole facing your finger tips or it's nearly impossible (for me) to unlock them, even with a key. My arms were starting to hurt from being locked up too long, and my wrists were DEFINITELY going to be bruised.

I started to loose my cool, and frantically felt for the keyhole. It wasn't there! I ran to the bathroom to see if I could get a look in the mirror. Sure enough, my left cuff was facing the top. Luckily my right cuff was facing the correct way, but that would mean I'd have to use my non-dominant hand to unlock it.

This took me easily another ten minutes, and by the time I got it off, I was dripping sweat, and even Mrs. Hyde was starting to remember why we'd switched from metal handcuffs to leather restraints a long time ago. I collapsed on the chair in the living room, totally tired and sore and I didn't even get an orgasm!

I decided to use my frustrated energy, and write this. Which I have done. Just now.

So if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go finish now manually what I started over an hour ago.

-I am a sissy writer and artist. If you want to check out my work for free, head over to DeviantArt If you like it and would like to see all of my exclusive work, as well as support me, head over to Patreon and pledge whatever amount you see fit.

Felatio: The worlds first non-consensual super heroine (very short story)

Tim Radmison looked at the papers in front of him, and at the suits sitting across the desk. He picked up the pen to sign, but hesitated.

"Tell me again why I can't have my lawyer look over these documents?" He asked.

The suits just stared at him, their eyes hidden by sunglasses. "Mr Radmison, there are at least twenty inmates behind you just hoping for the chance to sign this document. If you don't sign right now, we'll send you back to your cell, and get one of them."

"Ok ok, I'll sign, but just so I understand. This contract says that you are going to turn me into a super hero using an exo-skeleton suit that is totally non invasive. The suit will help me to fight against crime. Once I stop a certain number of crimes I get to go free, and the suit will be removed with no permanent side effects to myself."

Rather than answering, the suits looked at each other, got up from their chars and one of them reached for the document in front of Tim.

"No!" Tim snatched the paper, and quickly signed it before they could remove it.

For the first time, both of the agents broke character, and smiled. "Well done Tim. You're going to make a great Felatio."

"A great what!? Felatio, is that some kind of joke?"

"No Tim, Felatio is your super heroine name."

"Heroine? What are you guys getting on about? I'm a man, that'd make me a hero. You said the suit wasn't going to change me in any way."

As they talked three huge orderlies came into the room and grabbed Tim. One of them injected him with a syringe.

"Correct, the suit will not change you. The breast augmentation and other changes will be made surgically and separately from the suit."

Tim kicked out and screamed, but soon his limbs and neck went limp.

Over the next few months, he was altered to become a shapely buxom female. Since in his crimes, he had taken particular advantage of the African american population in several cities, it was decided that he'd receive a pink Afro, and would be set to work policing the low income areas. Whit his unwilling help, he would apprehend violent criminals who are active in his are, then the exo-suit would force him to give the criminal a special blowjob. Due to certain chemical injected into his salivary glands, the blowjob would cause the criminal to feel euphoric and non-voilent for up to one month.

In this way, Tim Radmison would be able to pay for his crimes, and make the streets of some of the more dangerous areas of the city safer. Unfortunately for Tim, what he didn't know is that the duration of his new assignment would last until he had thwarted a number of crimes equal to every dollar he had wrongfully gotten. This would ensure that his sentence as Felatio would be much longer than his actual prison sentence would have been.

-I am a sissy writer and artist. If you want to check out my work for free, head over to DeviantArt If you like it and would like to see all of my exclusive work, as well as support me, head over to Patreon and pledge whatever amount you see fit.

Birth of a Mad Scientist (very short story)

"What are we going to do Rebecca? If we don't have a winner on the float in the parade, people will know that the pageant doesn't even exist and we'll loose our funding."

"I know, stop pressuring me, I'll come up with something just calm down. Come back tomorrow and I'll tell you what I decided to do."

"Tomorrow!? The parade is tomorrow."

"I said I know. Trust me, have I ever let us down?"

"Well no, but-" Ring ring. "Hello..."

Rebecca walked away while her assistant Evelyn talked on the phone. So far in her life Rebecca had always had a great ability to come up with creative solutions to problems, especially when she was willing to be... morally flexible. Nothing was coming to her though. She didn't know anyone she could birbe to pretend to be the fake beauty queen, and she and Evelyn would need to be seen at the parade, so they were both out. What to do?

"Oh my god, that asshole. Let him rot in jail, I'm not bailing him out!" Evelyn screamed from across the room snapping Rebecca out of her thoughts.

"What's that about?

"My asshole brother in law. He's in jail for beating up someone. He goes out with his friends and picks fights with anyone he thinks is gay to impress his old high school football buddies."

Rebecca began to smile.

"Wait, is it Warren?"

"Yes"

"I've met him. He is an asshole. You know..."

Evelyn could tell by the way she was staring off into space, Rebecca was forming an idea. She knew better than to interrupt her trains of thought. They were always brilliant.

"Oh, that will be perfect. Hah! I love it!" Rebecca said.

"What is it? What's your idea?"

Rebecca fished through a drawer and came out with a small vial of clear liquid. "Go bail him out. On your way there, buy him some water and pour this into it. Make sure he drinks it."

"Ok, are you going to explain?"

"It's better just to show you. I've got something almost ready I've been working on. I was planning to use it on this tough bitch at the gym who hates being feminine, but I think using it on Warren will be even more fun, and it'll solve our problem. I'll need a few hours to get it ready, but it should be done by the time you get back."

***

Four hours later when Evelyn pulled her car back into the warehouse, Warren was asleep in the passenger seat and Rebecca was fiddling with some kind of mannequin on the parade float.

Immediately Evelyn could see what Rebecca's plan was.

Rebecca jumped down, and made a proud ta da gesture toward the thing standing on the float. It was a mannequin standing on the float in a flamboyant beauty queen dress. There was a huge bouffant wig, and a very realistic looking mask with the eyes cut out

"It's totally self contained, and it will keep him in place. He'll basically be trapped inside the outfit and won't be able to get out or move much. No one will see his face, and you can't see it from here, but there's a little punitive measure under the dress." Rebecca explained.

"But what's going to keep him from going straight to the cops? or telling everyone?"

"Are you kidding? You think Warren the notorious bigot and homophobe is going to go up to anyone and say 'Hey, guess what. Remember the big breasted beauty queen in the parade? That was me!' No, he's going to want to keep this quieter than even we do."

"Ok, I'm with you I think it might work. It's worth a try at least, but what's this punitive measure? You're not going to kill or disfigure him are you?" Evelyn asked

Rebecca couldn't contain her smile. "Cmon, help me get him into the outfit and you'll see."

-I am a sissy writer and artist. If you want to check out my work for free, head over to DeviantArt If you like it and would like to see all of my exclusive work, as well as support me, head over to Patreon and pledge whatever amount you see fit.

The Candle and the Book Club (very short story)

Seth writhed in ecstasy as his cock throbbed and emptied his balls into his fluffy pink petticoat. It was so intense that for a moment he forgot the entire world around him, and even where and what his situation was. He lay on the ground with his cheek on the floor, and closed his eyes just letting his head swim in the delicious afterglow.

However, the smell of smoke made him come back to reality in a few moments, and he opened his eyes almost as if waking up. The smoke was coming from a candle he had lit, and which was sitting just a couple of feet away from him. What he noticed most is that the vibrator he had strapped onto his cock was still buzzing happily away even though his penis didn’t like the sensation anymore. He wanted to take it off, but couldn’t.

Speaking of wanting to take things off, he was dressed in the most sissifying outfit he owned. He had on a blonde wig, makeup, a short pink dress and pink nylon stockings. It had been sexy to him a few moments ago before he’d had his precious orgasm, but now everything had changed. It was like he wasn’t even the same person. Now, he couldn’t stand this outfit and wanted to take it off very badly, but he couldn’t take it off either.

 He looked down at his wrists and ankles, and saw that they were still bolted to the floor with metal restraints. He remembered snapping them onto himself just a few minutes ago and getting a feeling of ecstasy as he heard the latches catch, and knew that now it was too late. The situation he’d set up for himself was going to play out whether he wanted it or not. The restraints were electronic, and would not release themselves for another thirty minutes.

This was a problem in and of itself because he desperately wanted to get out of the humiliating sissy outfit and the vibrator was becoming sheer torture to his cock now. These were secondary problems though. His mind wandered back to the smell of smoke. It was from a candle burning, but it wasn’t just burning itself. The candle was strategically placed under a rope that was holding back another strategically placed item.

Seth had rigged up a big purple corkscrew dildo attached to a ten pound weight like a pendulum. Were the pendulum allowed to swing free, the arc would slam the over-sized dildo directly into his unprepared ass. Currently the only thing keeping the pendulum from swinging free was a rope: A rope that was at this moment being burned through by a candle. He had tested it, and the rope should take no more than ten minutes to burn through. He had already wasted about five minutes getting into place and having his orgasm.

Now, the giant dildo would be ramming its way into his ass any minute and he thanked his lucky stars that he’d remembered to lube it up very thoroughly.

Even the predicament of the dildo was not his main concern though. Seth had told his ex-girlfriend that she could host her book club for this month at his house. He had carefully planned this self-bondage scenario so that his shackles would not release until two minutes after the women were scheduled to start arriving. He had left the door open a crack with a note that said “Don’t bother knocking, just come on in ladies!”

Now lying here, he hoped beyond hope that the ladies would be tardy as he often knew his ex-girlfriend to be. He heard the rope start to snap and crackle. It would be any moment now, but the sound that terrified him most of all was the sound of his front door squeaking open.

-I am a sissy writer and artist. If you want to check out my work for free, head over to DeviantArt If you like it and would like to see all of my exclusive work, as well as support me, head over to Patreon and pledge whatever amount you see fit.

Rolf the misogynist (very short story)

Rolf flexed his magnificent muscles that glistened under the stage lights, confidently knowing he would win the contest. He turned his back to the judges, clenching his vice like buttocks and tensing his broad back into a sheet of rippled steel. He arrogantly looked over his shoulder at the only female judge and smiled at her like a wolf.

The other contestants were smaller than him. Inferior. She was a woman and inferior. This contest was his, SHE was his. It was all coming together. Soon everyone would recognize what he had always known. Rolf had the best body in the region, possibly the world. Rolf was the best.

***

The end was approaching; he stood with his head high, like a king surveying his subjects in the audience. The results were read by the female judge. He didn’t win. Wait, what? He didn’t win? Impossible. He looked at the judges. Surely both men were on his side. It must have been the bitch. He glared at her, and mouthed the word “cunt” hoping she could read his lips.

When all the contestants left the stage to make room for the female competition, Rolf waited in the wings, and watched to see where the judge went. He followed her, and when she was alone grabbed her by the shoulder. “Bitch!” He screamed at her face. He wasn’t afraid anyone could hear him over the blasting music in the auditorium. “Whore! How dare you rob me?”

“That contest was mine! You ruined it for me, and now you have to fix it or I’ll… Well, you don’t want to know what I’ll do to you. I want to do it again. This time you’ll judge me fairly.”

She looked startled and confused for a moment. “Are you saying you want to compete again?”

“Yes bitch, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Well, I’m afraid the male competition is over. The Women are competing now.”

“I don’t give a fuck about that, you make it happen. I want to compete again, right now!” He was screaming so loud the people in the auditorium could probably hear.

Calmly, quietly she replied. “You know what Rolf. It’s your lucky day. I just happen to be someone who can give you what you want. You can compete again, right now. In fact, I’ll send you up on stage this moment. Just remember, you asked for this.”

With a flash of light, Rolf disappeared from the wing of the auditorium, and reappeared on stage. The music was blasting; the lights and all eyes were on him. He looked down at the thousands of people and saw his body. Something was wrong. Very wrong…

-I am a sissy writer and artist. If you want to check out my work for free, head over to DeviantArt If you like it and would like to see all of my exclusive work, as well as support me, head over to Patreon and pledge whatever amount you see fit.

Jack's memory (very short story)

Jack woke up feeling waxy in his arms and legs, and pain in his head, chest and balls. About the only part of his body that didn't ache was his cock. He noticed that though he wasn't aroused, it felt very erect. He tried to look up, but was still too groggy.

As his mind cleared and he became more conscious, he first felt his right arm and left leg sticking straight up into the air. Then he noticed that his left arm and right leg were dangling down below him. This was very disorienting because he had assumed he'd been laying on a bed.

He tried to look up again to see why his penis was so erect, but some kind of flesh colored wall was in the way. He did manage to see his right arm though, and this woke him up much more. It was sticking up in the air because there was a metal cuff around his wrist attached to a wire leading up to the ceiling. He was suspended, hanging by his right arm and left leg.

He turned his head to see his left arm was pointed at the floor. It too had a metal cuff on it, and a rope of some kind trailing to the floor. This rope however was somewhat elastic, like a more rigid bungee cord. He found that if he pulled with all his might he could lift it almost to his head.

In so doing, his next mystery came to light. Something tickled his hand when it got about a foot away from his skull. Through the periphery of his vision he could see hair. Long red hair hanging from his own head. But he had short black hair, cut almost to the scalp. And now that he thought about it, the arm didn't look right. It was much too thin.

Jack had prided himself on his muscular arms. He worked hard to keep them strong and big. These noodly little things were not his and yet they were somehow. He pulled with all his might on his bonds at the floor, and managed to get his hand to the wig that had been stuck on him. Wrapping his fingers in the locks, he yanked as hard has he could to pull the ridiculous thing off.

Shooting pain in his scalp rewarded his efforts, and Jack cried out in a voice that caused his mind to race and his heart to despair. It was a woman's voice. What the hell was going on here? What had happened. He tried to think back on the last thing he could remember.

He looked up at the wall of flesh blocking the view to his cock and realized now that it was a pair of large breasts. This reminded him of something. A bar. He'd been in a bar, playing pool. Big titts in his view. It had been a woman. She had a red sweater on low cut to show a huge pair of titts. She was going to let him fuck her hard. Or so he thought. They'd had a contest. They were playing pool, and the winner got to make the other "Their bitch"

Realization came to Jack now. She had been some kind of hustler, this had been her plan. He remembered loosing and getting into a car with her in the dark parking lot near the bar. She had done something, bitten him? No. It had been a needle.

Just then a door opened up behind him. Footsteps came in, and he heard a familiar voice.
"Hello Jacklyn, how's my bitch this morning?"

-I am a sissy writer and artist. If you want to check out my work for free, head over to DeviantArt If you like it and would like to see all of my exclusive work, as well as support me, head over to Patreon and pledge whatever amount you see fit.

Why do we love transformations?

Our culture is saturated by transformation. Not just in the sissy community, but in the world as well. Shows about transforming a person from fat to thin, or a house from ugly to beautiful, or a car from junk to hot rod are everywhere.

It might be easy to think that we're obsessed because Hollywood is jamming these shows down our gullet and we're eating them up like good little automatons. But I'd actually argue that these shows aren't creating our ravenous desire for transformation, they are merely capitalizing on it.

Interestingly, I feel like if we do ever get sick of transformation, it will be largely because of the nature of entertainment to bandwagon hop until everyone is so sick of something no one can stand it anymore.

Even in my own art, though it is usually very difficult for me to predict which drawings will be best received, I can usually count on any illustration depicting a before and after (and usually some kind of in between) will get a lot of page views and will be well liked.

But why? Why is it better to see a beautiful sissy after you've seen the ugly schlub of a guy she used to be? Or that house with it's bright paint and nice clean floors only after we saw the dump it was?

My speculation is beauty and ugliness are not absolutes, but are relative (eye of the beholder and all.) By seeing a transformation, we are provided with a baseline with which to compare the end product. Sure that hotrod is snazzy, but check out the rusty pile of crap it used to be. Wow! Sure this sissy's tits are big, but look at them compared to the flat chest she used to have. Gazonga!

Here's an example of a picture I did that I actually hate. However it has gotten more page views and likes than some of my stand alone art that I think is far superior.

-I am a sissy writer and artist. If you want to check out my work for free, head over to DeviantArt If you like it and would like to see all of my exclusive work, as well as support me, head over to Patreon and pledge whatever amount you see fit.

Bondage predicaments

It's always interesting to me when I see a concept born in a community and then come into popularity. Because we don't live in a vacuum, each little idea that someone shares can help pollinate other people's imagination and new things can come into existence and evolve. I watch this all the time within the kinky art world.

While I'm certain something like the idea of predicament bondage has been done by someone somewhere long before, it didn't really exist much in it's current iteration in bondage art an imagery until some years ago when I started to see little ideas of it pop up in an amateur video here, a drawing there etc...

The idea has continued to get refined and explored (and will continue to do so) and is now a staple of bondage enthusiasts. But let me back up to give a working definition of predicament bondage.

It is bondage done in a way that the subject can do one action or another, or can move in one direction or another. By choosing one action, the person can alleviate or lessen one discomfort, but it will begin or increase another discomfort. Often times the victim must go back and forth between the two punishments when one becomes too difficult to bear.

For me the fun is that it kind of turns up the volume on the intensity of bondage. It gives an increased sense of powerlessness, but at the same time, forces the recipient to punish themselves. I feel there isn't much more erotic than a clever way of forcing a sub to punish themselves. It's so evil and sexy.

Here's an example I drew of a predicament. If the sissy continues to squat, her thighs will being to fatigue and her muscles will burn. If she stands up she'll tighten these rubber tubes and punish her own balls.

-I am a sissy writer and artist. If you want to check out my work for free, head over to DeviantArt If you like it and would like to see all of my exclusive work, as well as support me, head over to Patreon and pledge whatever amount you see fit.

Erotic Dreams

Most nights I probably dream about crazy abstract shit like we all do. I usually don't remember my dreams and generally don't care about them. I'm one of those foolish people who think that dreams are probably less mystical than they seem and are likely just some mundane function of the brain regarding memory or some such.

However, I have had a handful of those awesome dreams that affect a person when they wake up. they leave one feeling a certain way: sad, or happy or scared. I love those. (Not so much the scary ones) but by far my favorite are the erotic dreams.

I don't get to have those too often, but when I do, I've learned to rush out of bed and write them down while they're still fresh. I don't know if it's just me, but I feel that my best (erotic) writing comes right after I've had a dream like that.

The other night was one such night and luckily I didn't have to work at my day job that day, so I was able to get up and take my time writing down what I had dreamed. I decided to share it with anyone who might be interested, so I posted it over at DeviantArt. If you want to read it, follow the link.

It is very sexual, quite graphic and mostly focuses on Femdom and forced feminization themes.

As always...

-I am a sissy writer and artist. If you want to check out my work for free, head over to DeviantArt If you like it and would like to see all of my exclusive work, as well as support me, head over to Patreon and pledge whatever amount you see fit.

The Pioneers: Robert Bishop

Bishop was a fetish artist who died in the early 90's. His work almost exclusively featured female submissives, and most of his art featured black and white ink.

Some of the things that I found interesting about his work: He would often play with perspective, drawing a subject from an unusual angle. He would also sometimes draw a single image from multiple angles in order to fully illustrate what was happening in his drawing. And perhaps my favorite is that almost every image he ever drew featured some kind of strict bondage.

I find his work to be technically very skilled, and he clearly loves his subject matter and explores it with a passion and ardor that is contagious, even if female submission isn't one's main cup of tea. I was hooked right away when I saw a drawing of his. And I speculate that his style and subject matter has heavily influenced one of the modern greats Simon Benson.

Here are a couple of examples of his work. I chose one because it's one of the few femdom pictures of his I've seen. And the other because it features a machine which is a favorite subject of mine in relation to bondage.

-I am a sissy writer and artist. If you want to check out my work for free, head over to DeviantArt If you like it and would like to see all of my exclusive work, as well as support me, head over to Patreon and pledge whatever amount you see fit.

High heels. Oh My Gawerd!

First off, I've worn heels plenty of times, but never enough to get used to them and let me just say, holly jezuz they are a torture device! But damn do they look good. I honestly wonder if part of the appeal is how uncomfortable they are. It's a person wanting to look good and being willing to suffer for it. (I don't know)

I know they're supposed to cause the muscles to constrict in such a way that it shapes the legs and ass, but I'm not entirely convinced I buy that. I think it's mostly a learned thing. They're a signal of sexiness. Like for instance, picture two scenarios one, a sexy woman walks down a busy street wearing a two piece bikini. Two, the same sexy woman walks down a busy street wearing a bra and panties that cover just as much as the bikini did. Which would cause more of a scandal?

Of course the underwear? Why? Because we've learned that sometimes a person wears a bikini in public, but people are NEVER supposed to wear their underwear in public. It's entirely a perception thing. I feel like that's probably the case with heels.

They are the single most girly footwear in the world (to me). I can hardly imagine myself getting "dressed" without a pair. Something about the pointing of the toe, the awkward difficult way one has to walk wearing them. Perhaps they also represent a certain vulnerability? Which may explain the attraction to ballet boots/shoes. I don't think anyone would make the sexy posture argument for those, Given the extremely awkward way they cause most anyone to walk who wears them. I have seen a rare case of a woman who has practiced so much she can walk almost normally in them, but that's the exception.

Here's a sissy wearing ballet shoes I drew.

-I am a sissy writer and artist. If you want to check out my work for free, head over to DeviantArt If you like it and would like to see all of my exclusive work, as well as support me, head over to Patreon and pledge whatever amount you see fit.

Things that aggravate me about porn

Like most of you I've been enjoying porn since I was pubescent. I don't know how many thousands of hours I've spent watching, perusing and partaking, but in that time there are a few things that have gotten to drive me absolutely crazy. Here are some of them. (P.S. I realize these are not universal. Many of the things I mention are going to be the very thing that you like. This is just an opinion piece.)

#1 The single most aggravating thing about porn is when the cameraman or photographer turns the camera on a 45ish degree angle. I assume that the cameraman thinks this is artistic, or maybe they are simply trying to fit the entire subject in the frame. It is not artistic, it's just annoying, and believe me, I can "finish" without needing to see the top of the head down to the toes. Now, certainly I do like a nice wide shot, but please please stop doing this!

#2 Extended closeups of the genitals. For me when a scene is really hot, and exciting things are happening and the fucking camera goes from the wider shot of bodies in for a screen sized shot of balls slapping taint that lasts three minutes, the fast forward button is getting pressed.

#3 Corporal punishment in which the submissive is either not tied at all, or tied in an easily escape-able way. This kills any excitement for me. I want the illusion of power/helplessness. If the god damn sub can just get up and walk away any time they want, this is not a mistress and slave, this is a professional sex worker and her paying client. Now, you may argue that in a true dominant relationship the submissive may be so tamed the he/she will not get up and leave because they aren't allowed to. That is actually a hot fantasy, which almost never comes across in porn.

#3 Bitchy screaming yelling Femdoms. I've said it in an earlier post, but in my life whenever I've seen a person who is angry and yelling, they are not doing so from a feeling of power. They are desperately trying to convince themselves and their audience that they are in control when they doubt it themselves. It's the calm angry, or the rational punisher that is in ultimate control. To me there is nothing more exciting than a mistress who is perfectly even keel, even when she's furious.

#4 Femdoms who don't talk enough. This one isn't always a problem depending, but I love it when a Mistress narrates what she's doing, or going to do. It can be as erotic as watching the act itself. Hell, there's an entire sub-genre of porn where it's nothing but a person doing sexy talk.

#5 People who think porn is the devil and causes deviancy. Repression causes deviancy, not expression. Why are the Japanese the most deviant motherfuckers (said with love) on the planet in their porn? Because they're such an open and expressive culture? Probably not. And two words. Catholic Priests. So as the lady said... Express yourself don't repress yourself.

Now here's a picture (it's not mine)

-I am a sissy writer and artist. If you want to check out my work for free, head over to DeviantArt If you like it and would like to see all of my exclusive work, as well as support me, head over to Patreon and pledge whatever amount you see fit.

Elvira: Mistress of my youth

I had to say a little something about Elvira because I've loved her so much for a long time. Her heyday was in an era when the satanic panic ran rampant and still she managed to be acceptable on television and on teen's walls. Parents probably didn't like her, but for the most part it felt like they turned a blind eye.

That black Gothic outfit is probably why still to this day I drool for a hot goth girl. (for about 5 seconds in a flashback, Claire from Lost was goth, and she NEVER looked so good.) Of course Elvira blatantly featuring her boobs was another important aspect. The giant bouffant hair the caked on makeup, the ridiculously long nails. It was all so great to a horny teen boy (and still is).

Her personality too is very important. Of course Elvira is a character created and portrayed by Kasandra Peterson who deserves credit for the birth of a national icon that will outlive her. She enjoys and flaunts her sexuality, unashamed and happy. She is silly and fun, but not a bimbo, in fact a quick whit clearly shows her intelligence.

If you've never seen Kasandra sans costume, it's a head trip to realize that this ultra-goth lady is in real life a ginger. And a word on the boobs. I walked in on a discussion in a coffee shop recently about whether they are real or fake. I say they are real, but of course the dress pushes them up, and she certainly does some contouring makeup on the cleavage to get the most out of what she's naturally got.

If you know otherwise, keep your mouth shut and down't ruin it for me. :)

Here are a couple of pictures I drew of her, the only way I like to draw - highly exaggerated.

If I were a busker on the street, and this nonsense I write and draw is something that would cause you to throw a dollar into my hat, please consider throwing a digital dollar into my digital hat over at Patreon

Sissy Land (The worlds first Forced Feminization amusement park)

Sissy Land is the worlds first and currently only Forced Feminization amusement park. It was built by a visionary Dominatrix named Donna Verdun who was able to get the upper hand on her formerly rich and abusive husband Richard Verdun.

She blackmailed then completely domesticated and feminized Richard, taking all of his fabulous wealth and using it to create her vision, and his nightmare, Sissy Land. Incidentally, Richard has not been seen in years, however Donna has a constant companion in her busty and submissive maid Rachel who never leaves her side.

Surrounded by forest on all sides, Sissy Land is situated on a plot of land that spans thirty thousand acres. The park itself only takes up about five hundred of those acres, but there are plans to constantly expand and update the park in perpetuity. And if the current popularity of the park is any indication, Sissy Land will continue to thrive and grow long after it's now retired creator is gone.

Several of the popular attractions are:

The Horsey Ride: A roller coaster in which the sissy is strapped on a synthetic horse. The saddle is equipped with a dildo (whose size is chosen by the Mistress/Master upon entrance) to make sure the sissy fully appreciates the bumpy and jarring ride. It also has strategically placed straps to lash down the sissies cock and balls (if the owner has not had them removed yet).

Balloon Ride: This interactive ride see's the sissy strapped to a bunch of helium balloons calibrated to the weight of the sissy in order to achieve balance, so that the sissy hovers hundreds of feet above the landing pad. The sissy is also strapped to the balloons in such a way that her legs are held at head level ensuring that if and when the hapless balloon pilot comes in for a landing, her posterior will be the first point of contact on the landing pad. Below, the spectators are given the option to rent a BB gun. Many of them take great delight in shooting the poor sissy's balloons. As the balloons pop, the pilot comes in for a landing upon the pad which is festooned with hundreds of dildos of all sizes. How soft the landing is depends entirely on how many balloons the spectators pop.

Cum Plummet: For the owners who want to teach their sissies balance as well as bravery, the Cum Plummet consists of a narrow balance beam spanning between two platforms one hundred feet in the air above a pool. The pool itself is filled with the semen from zoo animals, brothels, and even park goers can help contribute. The crows love to watch a terrified sissy teeter across the beam in high heels, all the while hoping to see her fall into the pool and are terribly disappointed if the hesitant tight rope walker makes it across without incident. If a sissy does fall into the pool, the owner has several options on how to deal with the mess. She can send her sissy into a shower to clean her off. She can send her into a special booth which sprays the sissy down with a drying retardant which ensures the sissy will spend the rest of her day dripping with goo. Or the sissy can be sent to a booth where other park visitors may be required by their owners to lick the sopping sissy clean.

Bitch Dip: Many of park visitors had complained that their sissies were getting too proud, parading around all day in their pretty sissy outfits in a park which was created specifically for their entertainment. The Bitch Dip was a very simple design to help combat HBS or Haughty Bitch Syndrome. In short, a sissy is strapped to a bungee jump which terminates into a vat of liquid. The liquid is supplied by the urinals which are connected to the Mistress/Master's bathrooms all over the park. Methods for cleaning the sissy after her dip are similar to the ones at the Cum Plummet.

Tunnel of love: Some owners wanted a slower pace more relaxing ride in which they could privately enjoy their sissy in a romantic setting. Our love boats are equipped with bondage accessories allowing the owner to situate their slave in any position they desire, and then enjoy them on a lazy wandering float through our seductively elegant tunnel.

And the Sissy Stroller rental: A sissy stroller is a punitive device which attaches to the sissy. It forces the sissy to not only put herself on awkward display, but ambulation becomes uncomfortable and challenging. This item became so instantly popular that the park had to order production of five hundred additional units the week after it was made available.

Many more attractions and rides are always being built at Sissy Land, but anyone wanting to see artistic illustrations of all of the above attractions (and many more unrelated pictures) are invited to head over to Patreon and become a sponsor. It is the management of Sissy Land's opinion that visitors will not regret their decision to become patrons.

Readers who are interested in seeing more free work by the artist can go here DeviantArt

Toilet Servitude

My relationship with this dark fetish is a conflicted one. I have all of the normal aversions to bodily fluids that a person naturally has, varying from fluid to fluid. Waters-ports is something I've only ever lightly dabbled with in real life, and brown showers is a hard limit for me. In fantasy though, these things are something that I'm both repulsed by, and attracted to.

If you're familiar with my art, you know that I dabble in toilet service pictures occasionally. If you're the analytical type, you may have also noticed that I only ever make implications about the actual transaction, without illustrating the specifics.

I think this appeals to the objectification and degradation part of my brain. I love the fornifila kink of which Gord (r.i.p) so brilliantly made a career. Women locked into furniture and then used in some manor, whether it was to be sat upon or used as a table. It was extremely sexy to me. I only wished that sub males would have gotten in on the act at his website once in a while.

For me having the furniture that one is locked into be a toilet is so shocking and taboo that my mind can't help but be titillated. But it's one of the few kinks that still holds a twinge of that old puritan guilt for me. Not to mention the ick factor.

I don't know. I like it, and it repels me. One thing's for sure, for me any images or stories generally need to be quite vague and just hint at the act. I know there are many people out there who are really into the whole thing and like all the details. More power to them (and you if you're one).

Here is an image I drew some time ago. I'll answer a question that often I get asked about it in advance. The sub here is not an amputee. His body parts are disappearing into the floor where he is held in place.

-I am a sissy writer and artist. If you want to check out my work for free, head over to DeviantArt If you like it and would like to see all of my exclusive work, as well as support me, head over to Patreon and pledge whatever amount you see fit.

Public Humiliation

One of my most favorite kinks is public sexual humiliation. For me that usually takes the form of being feminized in some way, then put on display for the world to see. Maybe a walk around the block before I'm allowed back in the house. Maybe being locked inside a glass cage in a very public place. Maybe being shoved out on the stage to do some kind of show before I'm allowed to leave.

In my fantasy it's important that I look good. Sexy like a woman who is dressed naughty, however everyone must know that I'm not a woman. I don't want to "pass" so to speak. For my money, where's the humiliation in that? To onlookers it's just a woman walking down the street. I realize that many writers and artists overcome this by having the spectators sexualize the "woman" in some way. Cat calls, or sexual advances. While this can be fun, it still just looses an edge to me unless they know that I'm a guy who doesn't want to be dressed like that. Someone who isn't gay or even a cross dresser. That makes it more humiliating to me.

Someone was able to "force" me to do a thing that I didn't wan to do. They dominated me in a certain way, and what's more their domination was so powerful that they were able to make me go out into public and flaunt my dominated status.

If you really want to make my head spin put a "post orgasm" twist onto it. Shove me out the door RIGHT as I'm coming so that by the time I hear the door lock, I have REALY lost interest in playing this game. Whew. I'm getting steamy just thinking about it.

Here's a picture along those lines. 

-I am a sissy writer and artist. If you want to check out my work for free, head over to DeviantArt If you like it and would like to see all of my exclusive work, as well as support me, head over to Patreon and pledge whatever amount you see fit.

Exaggerated Reality

In the movie Unbreakable, there is a scene where Elijah Price is explaining his theory that comic books were not started as fiction. He speculated that there were special people with extraordinary abilities. That perhaps they were just hyper exaggerated in the telling to make them more interesting.

This hit a note with me, because one of my most consistent and yet ineffable kinks is exaggeration. Particularly in body proportions. I started out as a kid looking at Dolly Parton's big boobs on record covers and liking it. Now as an adult, I love art that features women with boobs the size of watermelons.

I'll take a picture of Nicki Minaj who is notoriously gifted in the back yard, and blow up her bum like a hot air balloon.

A corset shouldn't just be cinched tight, it should be impossibly tight with a 2 inch diameter.

Recently, I've even started to fetishize massively puffed up lips.

When I analyze myself, I'm not readily sure what the deal is. Maybe it's just part of that sometimes human trapping that too much is never enough.

Like most of my fetishes however, I choose not to sweat it too much. I'm able to carry on normal human relationships without it interfering, and I get so much pleasure and satisfaction out of them.

Here's a picture I drew featuring exaggeration.

-I am a sissy writer and artist. If you want to check out my work for free, head over to DeviantArt If you like it and would like to see all of my exclusive work, as well as support me, head over to Patreon and pledge whatever amount you see fit.