Sisgal's Sissy Place

It was my deepest darkest secret. The shameful truth that all of my sexual desires and fantasies were totally wrapped into feeling like a dainty, girly, denied, panty princess was completely obvious if you knew what you looking for. My puny muscles, slender frame, effeminate mannerisms, shy demeanor, and submissive temperament were all the evidence any one would need to know that I have slipped into a pair of pretty panties to pleasure myself on more than a few occasions. No matter how hard I tried to hide these facts, if you were looking for a sissy to dominate, you would easily pick me out, and from the moment she first saw me, Becky wanted a sissy.

There I was, a meek little wall flower shyly sipping my drink at a hot party that I had somehow gotten invited to when Becky sauntered over to me and started flirting. Right away, Becky took control as her hands wandered and squeezed my soft squishy body, she whispered in my ear how pretty and cute she thought I was, she pressed into me until I was pinned against the wall, and then she took tender little kisses on my lips. I was so flustered by having this absolute knockout waltz over and dominate me so aggressively that my only response was to babble, stammer, and blush. Becky reached into my pockets, seductively tickling me as she went down, pulled out my phone, and then scheduled herself into my calendar for a date the very next evening.

One date would lead to another. In each one, Becky would nonchalantly exert dominance by picking me up, bringing me little gifts like flowers, perfumes, and jewelry, and then paying for everything. She was always the one who would be advancing our intimacy from tickles, to kisses, to rubbing. While I was in her arms there was a nonstop monologue about how pretty I looked, how soft I felt, and how I moaned just like a girl. Any effort by me to assert myself was immediately shut down as Becky would easily overpower and pin me until I promised to behave like her demure and dainty little beta boy. She would end every date by sensually massaging between my legs until I was trembling gooey mess and then she would send me to bed after I promised that wouldn’t diddle myself without her permission.

I was in heaven and things only got better as Becky started extending our dates into our homes and stripping us both out of our clothes. Once as I was in my boxers and Becky was just wearing the absolute sexiest bra and panty sets that I had ever seen, she would push me down, get on top of me, and then sensually rub and gyrate into me. While she did this she made me confess how much I loved feeling dainty and powerless and, in excruciating detail, how much I adored her lingerie. Right when Becky had me worked to the absolute edge, she would stop and tell me that I was just too pretty for pussy, but maybe I’d prefer panties instead.

I tried to resist. I’d laugh the comment off or pretend like I didn’t know what she was talking about. But with the fantasy that had been haunting my erotic imagination since puberty suddenly coming to fruition right before my very eyes, there was literally no chance that eventually I wouldn’t be seduced into becoming Becky’s little sissy princess. It was the very first time that she actually peeled me out of my boxers, took my little weeny peeny in her hands, and with a little kiss asked me if my tiny clitty was finally ready for panties that I inevitably surrendered.

There were, of course, additional terms. I had to pledge to be pussy free while Becky would continue dating and being ravished by real men so I would also be a cuckold. I would wear pretty panty and bralette sets every day, and soft flirty nighties every night. so I would always feel the delicate embrace of lovely lingerie. Finally, my little weeny peeny would be locked up in a tiny pink chastity cage and I would only be allowed to squirt if I was an obedient, effeminate, pretty, sissy.

Earning a squirt has meant a lot of different things. I had to commit to a daily beauty routine to keep my skin smooth and soft. Every night I needed to make sure I was in bed with the lights out by my 9pm beta boy bedtime. My body had to stay tight and right so I spent an hour every morning learning different flirty girly dances. And to make sure that my vocabulary, mannerisms, and thoughts were all appropriately effeminate. I only consumed feminine media and spent the hour before bed deep in the sway of sissy hypnosis videos.

However, today the thing that I had to do to prove that I am an obedient, effeminate, pretty, sissy that deserves a squirt was to publicly humiliate myself by letting Becky dress me up whichever way she wanted for a girls’ trip to the mall to replace my entire wardrobe with flirty feminine clothing and help Becky pick something sexy out for her date with a real man tonight. I feel so vulnerable and emasculated as my scantily clad super bestie pulls me from one boutique to another. The only thing keeping the spotlight off of me and allowing me to somewhat fade to the background is the way I mince about, how I’m now naturally limp at the wrist, and how I only speak with a soft lilting lisp. My innate femininity is my camouflage, my protection, my only real defense, and so I allow it to consume me.

It’s in this state that Becky and I go from perusing the feminine clothing on the racks to stripping each other down to our intimates in the dressing rooms so we can try on the sexy looks and make flirty girly poses as we giggle, wiggle, and model for one another. As Becky and I intimately fawn and fuss over one another, my tiny cage becomes impossibly tight, my panties get undeniably gooey, and I am completely enthralled by Becky’s power and beauty. Being SO close to her while staying small and soft, wrapped and trapped in femininity, denied her body and my manhood, is SO perfect that I feel all of my desires for a “normal” life melt and fade away.

We were at a wedding, one of Emily’s friends from college, sitting at an outdoor table, enjoying the evening. It was a beautiful night with a full moon shining brightly in the sky. We were sitting with some of Emily’s friends, and we were all having a great time when I heard one her her friends say to her, “I think that's Todd over there. Did you know he was going to be here?"

"Where?" Emily asked, looking around.

"Who's Todd?" I asked.

"A guy Emily and I went to college with," her friend said, suppressing a smile.

"Where?" Emily asked again.

"To the right," her friend said, "he's walking over to us."

I looked over, saw a man in a navy suit walking towards us, a smile on his face.

Emily turned around to look, facing me, so I saw her face when she found him. The smile on her face was electric, like she was remembering something special.

When he got to us, he said hello to everyone generally, and then to Emily specifically.

"Todd," Emily said, "it's so good to see you."

"Good to see you, too, Emily," he said, "it's been awhile." He looked at me, raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, sorry, Todd, this is..." she introduced me as her boyfriend, looked back at him. "This is Todd."

"A college boyfriend?" he said, looking at her.

"Boyfriend might be a little strong," Emily said. "It was like a month."

He looked at me, raised his eyebrows, looked back at her, eyes on her breasts. "Fair enough," he said, smiling, "but it was a heck of a month, wasn't it?"

"I suppose," she said but a light blush.

"Save me a dance?" he said, looking her.

"Your date might not like that," she said.

He smiled. "Fair enough," he said. "A hug at least?"

She looked at me, gave me the smile she saved for me, stood up and hugged him. He hugged her back and then took a half step back, had his hands on her waist. "You look great," he said.

"So do you," she said.

When he left, her friend looked at Emily. "Someone's still smitten," she said.

"I am not," Emily insisted.

Her friend laughed. "Okay Ms. Defensive, but I meant him."

Back at the hotel, Emily and I were in bed. "Sorry about Mr. Roving Eye," she said.

"It's okay," I said. "He...you had quite the smile on your face when you saw him."

"It was quite the month," she said.

"I assume you...you know..."

She looked at me, gave me the smile she saved for me again. "Um...yeah," she said. She moved her hand down my stomach, to the front of the panties I was wearing, touched my small, tucked penis. "He was...insatiable and...had this way of just...well, he had this way of doing things," she said.

"D...doing things?" I said.

Emily’s fingers traced the soft satin edge of my panties, her touch light but deliberate, sending a shiver straight up my spine. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against my ear, completely aware of how quickly my breathing had changed.

"He was just so... heavy," Emily murmured, her voice dropping to a low, teasing purr. "Not like you, sweetie. You're so soft and delicate. Todd was all rough edges and muscle. When he wanted me, he didn't ask. He’d just grab me by the waist—exactly where he held me tonight—and lift me onto whatever was nearby. The kitchen counter, the desk in his dorm, it didn't matter."

I swallowed hard, my heart hammering against my ribs. The contrast between my own tucked, yielding body and the image of this towering, dominant man handling her was dizzying. "Did... did he?"

"Oh, constantly," she whispered, her hand applying just a fraction more pressure through the fabric, feeling how excited I was becoming. "He didn't do the gentle, romantic things we do. There was no slow buildup. He used to pin my hands above my head with just one of his. He was so big, honey. He’d stretch me out completely, just taking what he wanted until we were both breathless and covered in sweat."

She pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, a wicked, knowing smile playing on her lips as she watched the flush creep up my neck.

"He had this urgency that used to leave me sore for days," she continued, her thumb rubbing a slow, agonizing circle. "Things I would never even dream of asking you to do, because you're my sweet, pretty boy. But hearing about it makes you so hot, doesn't it?"

I nodded helplessly, my face burning with a mix of arousal and submission. She knew me so well. She knew exactly how my mind raced when she drew those lines between my soft, quiet nature and the raw, aggressive energy of men like Todd.

"Look at you," Emily cooed softly, her hand sliding under the waistband of my panties, her fingers cool against my heated skin, not quite touching me, not quite freeing me, not quite letting me grow. "You're practically trembling just hearing about it. My sensitive little pretty boy."

She shifted her weight, pinning my thighs beneath her own, though she did it with a gentle, deliberate slowness that emphasized just how different she was with me. She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my bra strap, then whispered against my skin.

"When Todd came over to my place, he didn't care if I was ready or if the mood was right," she murmured, her fingers lightly tracing the length of my small, tucked penis, teasing but withholding any real release. "He’d just turn me around, pull my skirt up, and take me right there against the door. He used to leave bruises on my hips from how hard he'd hold me. It was so loud, so primal. He just wanted to dominate."

I let out a soft whimpering sound, my hands clutching at the bedsheets. The mental image of Emily being overwhelmed by someone so completely masculine—while I lay here in my lingerie, utterly helpless beneath her—swirled together into a intoxicating rush.

"And you love hearing that, don't you?" Emily whispered, her eyes locked onto mine, dark with amusement and desire. "You love knowing that he had his way with me, doing all those rough, demanding things... because it means you get to just lay here, be pretty, and let me control exactly what happens to you next."

Emily laughed softly at my whimper, a sound full of affection and absolute control. She pulled her hand back from my waistband, leaving me burning, completely exposed and aching beneath her gaze.

"You're so worked up, sweetie," she purred, shifting her weight so she was sitting across my thighs, looking down at me in my lingerie. "But you know what the rules are tonight? Not after talking about Todd. A man like that... he just took whatever he wanted. But with you? I'm the one who decides."

I looked up at her, my breathing shallow, my heart pounding against my ribs. "Emily... please..."

"No, honey," she said, her voice dripping with sweet authority. She reached down, smoothing the satin of my panties over my small, tucked front, keeping everything securely hidden and constrained. "You don't get to enter me tonight. We aren't doing those kinds of things. That's for big, rough men like Todd, not pretty little girls like you."

She leaned forward, arching her back slightly as she guided my hands to her hips, positioning me exactly where she wanted me. "But I'm still going to let you taste me. I want you to slide down, get on your knees, and use that soft tongue of yours until I'm completely satisfied. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Serving me while you stay perfectly tucked away?"

I nodded eagerly, the submission coloring every inch of my body. I slipped out from under her, moving down the bed until I was positioned between her thighs. Looking up, I saw the fierce satisfaction in her eyes as I leaned in to press my lips to her, losing myself in the taste of her, completely devoted to her pleasure.

When she finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, she reached down and caught my chin, forcing me to look up at her.

"Good girl," she whispered, her fingers trailing down my chest, straight back to the damp satin of my panties. She didn't untuck me. She didn't let me free. Instead, she began to rub her hand firmly over the fabric, applying a steady, intense pressure directly over my hidden, tucked front.

"You don't need to be big for this, honey," Emily murmured, watching my eyes roll back as the friction built rapidly. "Just lay back and take it. No friction, no penetration. Just a sweet, intense little release, hidden away in your satin. Come on, sweetie... show me how a girl orgasms. Think about what he did and then do what you do so well."

Her touch was so soft, so gentle, so light. I knew what she was doing, bringing me to the edge, so slowly. She was bringing me to the edge of orgasm but gently and softly. She sensed when I was close and stopped. But even without her touch, the restriction of the panties combined with the overwhelming mental image of her control broke me. I cried out, my body arching off the bed as a wave of intense, trembling pleasure washed over me, completely contained, soft, and entirely hers.

The tension in the room dissolved into a soft, heavy quiet as the last of my tremors subsided. Emily smiled gently, her expression shifting from the sharp, teasing dominance of a moment ago to a warmth that was entirely tender.

She slid down the bed, pulling me into her arms as she wrapped the light blanket around both of us. I buried my face in the crook of her neck, still catching my breath, feeling incredibly small, exposed, and completely safe.

"Oh, look at you," Emily whispered, her fingers softly running through my hair, untangling the messy strands. "You're still shaking a little bit, sweetie. Come here."

She pulled me tighter against her chest, letting me rest my head right over her heart. The steady, rhythmic thumping beneath her skin was completely grounding. Her other hand reached down, not to tease or restrict this time, but just to rest a comforting, warm palm over my panties, right on the damp spot.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, kissing the top of my head. "How are you feeling?"

"Good," I breathed, my voice a little thinned out from the intensity of the release. "Really good. Just... heavy. And warm."

"You did so well for me," she murmured, her thumb tracing slow, soothing circles on my hip. "I know how much it overwhelms that pretty head of yours when I talk about men like Todd. But I love how safe you feel with me to explore that. You know that, right?"

I nodded against her neck, breathing in the familiar scent of her skin and the faint trace of the perfume she'd worn to the wedding. "I know. It’s just... it gets so intense. Hearing you talk about him being so big and rough, and then looking down at myself..."

"And that's exactly why we do it," Emily interrupted gently, tilting my chin up so I had to look into her eyes. The playful, wicked spark from earlier was gone, replaced by absolute affection. "Todd was just a passing phase, honey. A month of something loud and mindless. But you? You're my partner. I get to be soft with you, and I get to take care of you like this. I love your softness. I love how beautiful and delicate you are in my hands."

She reached down, gently adjusting the fabric of my underwear to make sure I was comfortable, her touch purely nurturing.

"I love that I can have a man like Todd look at me at a party, and then I get to come back to the hotel and completely control my beautiful, feminine boyfriend," she whispered, a tiny, affectionate smile returning to her lips. "You give me a kind of intimacy he could never even understand."

I let out a long, contented sigh, the lingering vulnerability melting into pure comfort. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling my knees up slightly, completely content to just be held, cherished, and kept safe in the quiet space she made for me.

Emily’s hand slipped inside the waistband of my panties, her movements slow and deliberate. Because the release had been entirely contained and restricted within the tight satin, the orgasm had been tight, frustrated, and completely "ruined." The intense physical peak had passed, but the deep, throbbing ache remained, leaving my body entirely on edge, hypersensitive and craving more.

She withdrew her hand, her fingers slick with the cream of my restricted release. She held her hand over my face, letting me see what she had gathered.

"Look at this, sweetie," Emily whispered, her voice a perfect blend of sweet affection and absolute control. "Look what a good little girl you were for me. You didn't make a mess, you kept it all right inside for me."

My eyes locked onto her hand, my heart hammering fiercely against my ribs. A wave of heat rushed to my face at the sheer humiliation of it, but the raw, unfulfilled arousal still humming through my veins completely overpowered my shame. I whimpered, my hips giving an involuntary twitch beneath the sheets.

"You're still so needy, aren't you?" she cooed, a knowing, tender smile on her face. "That's what happens when you have a sweet little girly orgasm. You stay right on the edge for me. Now, clean up for me. Be a good girl and lick it all up. Just like I licked it all up off him, you lick it all up off me."

When her hand was completely clean, Emily smiled down at me, her eyes overflowing with genuine warmth and pride. She wiped her damp fingers on a nearby tissue and immediately pulled me back down against her chest, wrapping her arms securely around me.

"Such a good girl," she murmured, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my forehead as I rested my head on her shoulder, shivering slightly from the lingering aftershocks. "You are so well-behaved for me, honey. So obedient. I love how completely you let me possess you."

She ran her hand lovingly down my back, smoothing the hair away from my neck.

So when I heard her start a sentence with "I want..." I was already nodding and agreeing before she finished. When I realized it sounded like "gay" I was confused and snapped out of my trance.

"Uh, wait, what was that?" I asked.

"I want to make you gay," she said so matter-of-fact that I was about to agree again.

"What does that mean?" I asked, despite being very uncomfortable doing anything other than vigorously agreeing with everything she said.

"I like soft boys like you because I enjoy playing with sexuality, gender and power dynamics. At some point, I will give you a makeover to see if you make a good girl -- or I'll expect you to do girly things with me in bed that extremely macho men would never do. You'd do that for me, wouldn't you?" she asked, batting her lashes and smiling in a way such that it was impossible to say no.

"Of course. I mean, I'd be happy to try creative, new experiences if that would please you." Wow, I sounded like a total sycophant. I was surprised that I truly meant it, but hope it wasn't too much.

She just smiled as if she'd expected that response. I got the strong impression that she was used to getting her way with men, likely with women too.

"Good. That was a test and you passed. I've found it important to state my rules plainly and early, so I don't waste my time," she added nonchalantly.

She didn't ask if I had any rules. Then again, why should she? She's way out of my league and I was happy she was even talking to me. I should've been upset by these games and the fact she was testing me, but once again I discovered that I just happy if she was happy.

Hey sissy, glad you’re here! Go put on a matching sweater, grab a bouquet and join us okay? Your ex and her fiancé will be here any minute!

Teeheee, this is so great… they make such an attractive couple, and they’re gonna love seeing you with us being one of the girls!