Degraded Sissy

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Degraded Sissyfondamaid asked: Hi. Sorry it’s been a while. I haven’t dressed and I felt a little odd sending you a note while in men’s clothing. Today I’m dresses, corseted, and locked up. I’m just not sure how long I’ll keep myself locked up. I did finally get baby oil to use though and the cage is more comfortable because of it. I thought lube would work fine, but I was wrong. Now I’m all sissied up and wondering what I should do. Part of me thinks I should practice pleasing real men.I hope that, when you are dressed in mens clothes you are always wearing stockings or pantyhose with panties undeneath – a sissy should always be free of body hair, have its tie nails permanently painted and wear panties and omens hosiery 24/7. It should not own any men’s socks or underwear.I cannot advise you whether you should go out and prostrate yourself at the feet of real men. You should certainly start practicing because I think you know, deep down, it’s where you will end up. It is a question of when, not if you will end up serving real men. Come what may, you are on an unavoidable course with your destiny.You may not find it physically pleasant, but its what sissies are there to do.When you have sucked you first cock, if you have not already done so, you will tell yourself you did not enjoy it. You feel disgusted with yourself. In a perverted way you will seek an temporarily find comfort in this, in that you tell you slf that this was merely a curiosity; that this confirms you are not gay.But deep down you will know that it will not be the last time. You heaved passed the point of no return.Eventually, you will find your made up face pressed into a pillow, maybe your hands shackled behind you, as real men, contemptuously fuck your arse as you are dressed in your girly clothes, with the remnants of your manhood locked away.You will come to realise that your own cock is useless as a male tool, and its only real function is to be locked away to serve as an abject reminder of the man you failed to be and the woman you can never be.A sissy should never again experience male orgasm. It can only experience orgasm vicariously through the climax of real men in its mouth and in its anus, but it is ultimately destined to eternal frustration.When the man is finished, he will not thank you. He will just push your face into the pillow once again, as he gets up and gets dressed, leaving you lying limply, defeated, face down, aching, maybe bleeding, dressed like a woman, with his cumm seeping from inside you.You have been fucked like a woman, but you are not a woman.You are a failed man; a mincing, chastised, crossdressing sissy.You will feel weak, pathetic, impotent, degraded.You will lie there for a long time, contemplating what has happened. You will know that you are now a sissy faggot. No turning back. Perhaps that was never an option anyhow. But it will be a pivotal moment in your life.Then you know you have arrived at the nadir of sexual existence. Your destiny.Once you resign yourself to it, life will become a little easier.Welcome to the rest of your life. It is always good to see sissies playing with each other, for it emphasises their position at the bottom of the sexual food chain and that they can only ever be an equal to another sissy – everyone else is above their station.They can never be a sexual partner to a real man or a real woman. Their job is to serve real men and real women as an animate sex toy when required – nothing more.However, sissies playing together should NEVER be allowed to consummate that with a sexual climax. Sissies should be kept locked in secure chastity at all times, the eternal frustration is a perpetual reminder to them of inadequacy and failure. Since they have failed miserably to be men and can only seek to emulate, but never be, a woman, they should not be allowed to experience the sexual climaxes that men an women experience.Sissies should be allowed to feel and taste the intimacy of kissing another sissy’s lipstick painted lips. They should be allowed caress each others stockinged legs. They should be able to feel the submissive denigration of oral and anal penetration. These are effective in reminding the sissy feminized, submissive and compromised position.But the only contact that should ever be had with a sissy’s genitals is through a chastity device. In particular, the clunking of chastity devices against each other as sissies writhe around with each other in a heightened state of arousal, is a reminder that their arousal cannot be consummated with a climax and will remain unsatisfied. The consequent perpetual frustration is a metaphor for the frustration of never being able to be the man their wives and girlfriends once expected them to be, and never being able to be the beautiful woman they have long craved to be.A true sissy must learn to savour whatever satisfaction it can from the journey, for it can never arrive at the destination.sListen, sweetie.Once you start wearing makeup and stockings and high heels that thing becomes redundant, other than to remind you of the man you failed to be and the woman you crave to be, but can never be.It needs to be permanently locked away.Sissies are not entitled to have orgasms. These are for men and for women. You are neither.You are emasculated, so you cannot be a man. You are feminised, but can only ever try to imitate a woman.Sissies may sometimes be called upon to help men and women achieve their orgasms – orally or anally – and to clean up afterwards, but never to have an orgasm themselves.A true sissy can only ever experience orgasm vicariously, though someone else, and needs to learn how to squeeze some kind of satisfaction out of that.However, just as a sissy can never be a man or a woman, it is destined to eternal sexual frustration as well. Learn to make the gaziantep escort bayan most of the journey, precious, for you can never reach the destination.This situation makes very clear to the sissy why its cock is redundant and locked away.While it mixes around pathetically in stockings and high heels, the real man, firstly, screws the sissy’s wife to delirium, and then, sodomises the sissy until it is a limp, whimpering mess.Before the sissy even has a chance to compose itself, it is pulled up, on to its stockinged knees and, with the real man’s semen still flowing from its behind. It is then forced to clean him and her orally.The sissy is then left,whimpering in a corner, to contemplate its pathetic state at the bottom of the sexual food chain as its chastity cage remains locked, it sexual frustration never to be relieved.Meanwhile, the real man pets with the sissy’s wife over a few drinks whilst occasionally laughing at, and humiliating the pathetic specimen.Sweet SissygurlWhen I a dressed like this I just feel so intensely girly and aroused.With the remnants of my masculinity securely and permanently locked in a chastity cage between my legs I will never again experience the release that, at least for a short while, allows me to want to take of my women’s clothes a nd feel like a man again.I feel so malleable like this.Once this guy has handcuffed me, groped me, humiliated me, emptied himself into my mouth or my loins, I will still not get to experience climax and the release that foes with it.I will just lie here feeling even more girly, sissy and submissive than before. Where the unchastised transvestite will then climax, dress back into their men’s suit and return to their room, I will go back down to the hotel bar, humiliate myself, luxuriate in the feeling and look of my glossy stockinged legs, absorb the stares and the sniggers.Eventually, another intoxicated businessman will come over and start to chat me up and seduce me. It doesn’t take much.The next morning I have to change back into my suit and masquerade as a man again, but the the submissive sissy slut will still be there wanting more humiliation; more degradation.This is soo frustrating. But a necessity if you want your gurl to stay plyable. Keeping her in chastity is a rule that’s not equal to Lock And Leave. She’ll get used to it and even worse, irretable. By teasing her like this at least once a week you reminds her of two things: who controlls her clitty and what she has given to you.dominiqueq:Ladies, when teasing and edging your gurl in the middle of a denial period to build up the denial dynamic to ‘slut delerium’ levels your gurl may become a little vocal, gags can be a necessity in such circumstances, I have found that penis gags often work best.I’ll bet this feels so good!It’s been 2 years since your little weenie has been out of its cage and erect.Yes ., I can see this is ready to blow and you are really worked up or the most explosive orgasm you’ve ever had,You’re nearly there .. I can sense it.Tuff!It’s not going to happen.What do you think this is?Men and women have orgasms.But look at you,faggot!Dressed up in stockings and heels and a bra,your face all painted like a girl.You are clearly not a man, but with that thing between your legs, as pathetic as it is, you are not a woman either.You are a sissy. A transvestite. You exist in the twilight zone between masculinity and femininity.Sissies don’t get to have climaxes.Just as they failed to be the man they were meant to be, and can never be the woman they try to be, their sexual existence is Los one of unconsummated frustration.So now the chastity cages goes back on.You are, no doubt thinking why I took it off at all and teased your so cruelly.Because I don’t want you to get too used to chasity. I want you to be able to remember, but no experiences the p,erasures that are denied you and to know the extent to which I ownandyh control you.Now I’ll leave you tied up for a while longer to think about it.But we’ve got the Fergusons coming round for dinner later, so you’ll have to get yourself made up and ready in your maids uniform to serve usFor many would be sissies this appears to be a dream lifestyle.But be careful what you wish for.Yes, you will, for the rest of your life enjoy the deligthtlful girlyness if being constantly dressed in stockings and panties and high heels nd frilly maids dresses.And the notion of being permanently locked into a steel chastity belt is quire a turn on.But the reality sets in sooner than you think.After just a few weeks you start to realise that this is not a game. Every morning when you get up, you will dress up in women’s clothes – there are no others.When you go out, it won’t be to amuse yourself, but rather to carry out chores for your aster and mistress – and it won’t be in men’s clothing, but always the ever present stockings and heels and servants uniform. Whenever anyone sees you, it will be crossdressed in a servile manner.The stares, the whispers, the double takes will follow you for the rest of your life. No matter how good you get at make-up, people will always know you are a sissy, a transvestite..that devastating word “fag” will occasionally be cruelly whispered behind your back. You will learn to adjust, but you will never quite be able to switch off completely. There will ways be an element of humiliation. The laughs and derision will always strike home income way.No matter how much people might become accustomed to seeing crossdressers and transsexuals, you will always be seen as something if a freak – a servile, mincing sissy. The lace and frills, tthe bows,the maids uniforms, the petticoats, the overwhelming presence of pink – it is not how real women or ever transsexuals or transvestites dress, The reactions may vary from contempt, escort bayan to ridicule to pity, but they will never be anything that allows you any slf-respect.You will not have a moment that belongs to you. You will be at the constant beck and call of your superior.But what will brand itself on your consciousness more than anything else us the chastity belt.You will learn to manage the frustration over time, but never to overcome it.Even when you think the worst is over, there will be days where you lie there, painted, perfumed, in your maids dress, stilettos and stockings, fingering your charity belt just yearning for just a half-hour during which the remnants of your redundant manhood are pushed back between your legs inside a steel tube; during which you could touch yourself, and once again feel the satisfaction of sexual climax.But you have resigned yourself to the knowledge that that can never again happen. That was your old life. It’s gone forever.Sex, for you, is something that you experience vicariously through the services you dispense to others.Yours is now a life if denial, frustration, submission, humiliation and self-loathing.But it is what you thought you wanted.This is what I wore to work one day last week. Do you think I’m being naughty?Honestly, I think you’re being naughty not wearing it all time to work, boyDarling, I understand that man sissies still have to go to work urging the day and pretend to be normal males, but a good sissy is always encased in, at least, stockings and panties at any time – whether under a business suit, or tradesman’s overalls or whatever. It is required, as a constant reminder that you are not a male, but a crossdressing sissy.Feminised. Sodomised. Totally emasculated . Humiliated and degraded. Yet there is a strange sense of relief, an inner peace, that comes over you as surrender your pretensions to manhood and lie there, prostrate, limp and pathetic, in women’s stockings and high heels, whilst another man pumps your arse, emptying his men into your bowels. As devastating and soul-destroying as it may be, with surrender and defeat comes the relief that the pretence is over. You no longer have try to be something you are not, and never reall were.Feminised.Sodomised.Totally emasculated .Humiliated and degraded.Yet there is a strange sense of relief, an inner peace, that comes over you as surrender your pretensions to manhood and lie there, prostrate, limp and pathetic, in women’s stockings and high heels, whilst another man pumps your arse, emptying his men into your bowels.As devastating and soul-destroying as it may be, with surrender and defeat comes the relief that the pretence is over. You no longer have try to be something you are not, and never reall were.It is now almost 12 years since my divorce, after which I threw out all my male underwear and socks.I have worn panties and pantyhose or stockings almost 24/ 7 ever since.In fact it is hard to imagine what my legs feel like without the sensation of being encased in sheer nylon,The longest I am ever not in pantyhose or stockings is for 2 hours every 6 weeks when I get a full leg and body wax and 15 minutes each day when i take my shower. I change in to fresh hosiery every morning after I wake up and again when I get home.But regardless of how much they have become a part of my everyday life, I am still aroused by the feeling of wearing them and the way they look on my legs.I still love sitting in restaurants, cafes, cinemas, doctors’ surgeries etc. in my girl shorts caressing my stockinged legs for in full view of everyone. It is such a girly thing to do and just feels so good.I am still incredibly aroused by the feel of sheer hosiery under my tailored male suit when I am at work.There are many dimensions to being a transvestite sissy, but, to me, women’s hosiery us the mist quintessential and indispensable element.Remember the day of your graduation?Captain of the football team.Top of your law and commerce years.The hottest girlfriend on campus.Now look at you!Mincing around in high heels, stockings and make- up. A live-in transvestite sissy faggot performing menial chores and being an on-call cum bucket to a another man, and all his mates.Your body completely shaved.Your cock permanently locked away. You haven’t experienced an orgasm in years an never will again.You done half you time in shackles on public display for others to ridicule and humiliate.You can’t stop it.You don’t even seem to want to .You seem weirdly comfortable – even turned on- by it.You are a bizarre emasculated, totally degraded transvestite slabs to another man.What do you think the trophy girlfriend and your graduation class would think of you now?Once this occurs you know straight away that the last frontier to your complete and total emasculation has been crossed – irreversibly.You have been dressing for years but rationalised it away as a ‘harmless fetish’.Over time, becauseof its association with the sexual arousal that accompanied your crossdresing, you started to be aroused of the feeling of shame and humiliation that was always there when you crossdressed..You began to take greater risks – dressing partially and then fully and going out at night; then going to gay bars to be seen; then going to the mall in broad daylight; all the time dressing every more effeminately.You needed a bigger and bigger hit each time and took increasingly bigger risks to achieve it. It was like an addictive d**g you couldn’t get off.Eventually, you sucked you first cock. And then another. And another…You weren’t gay. You weren’t queer. You weren’t a fag (although that word was always wafting around in the back of your mind as you felt the girlyness of being on your stockinged knees sucking off yet another guy.It was just a bit of role play. Experimentation. Whatever the rationalisation.Then one day you are in a hotel bar on a business trip.You have dressed up in a ridiculously sissy satin pink maids outfit, white sheer stockings, pink stilettos, a diamanté collaran andbfrilly sissy panties.You know it will attract attention. Bemusement. Derision.But the the feel and look of the clothes and the magnetic, erotic allure of being seen dressed like that in a bar at a hotel at which you are staying proves irresistible.You are out of town. No one will recognise you.You have a wine in your room to work up the courage.Suddenly you are mincing out of the elevator into a crowded hotel lobby.The friction of your sheer white stockings brushing against eact other is and enormous rush, as they shimmer under the bright lights if the hotel lobby.You feel your heels are clicking a hundred times louder than they actually are.You feel that everyone is staring at you.They probably are. Wasn’t that the point?You walk into the bar and sit yourself on a stool demurely, caressing your stockinged knees suggestively, but nervously.An hour later, youve have had a glass too many.A guy in a suit, who has also had a glass or two too many comes over to chat you up.You are intrigued but in control and decide to let the situation go through the motions.Next he is caressing your stockinged knees and the your thighs, then his hand is working your swollen crutch as he thrusts his strong manly tongue down your throat.You don’t enjoy the sensation of being kissed by a man or the scratching from his stubble, but it all makes you feel so delightfully submissive and girly.There comes a pint where you realise you are not in control, but you let it go on (as if you have a choice by now, stupid sissy). After all you’ll just give him a blow job and he’ll go away happy.Next you are in his hotel room.Before you have a chance to drop to your knees and unzip his fly, he is holding both you hands behind you and forces you onto the bed, face down.You feel helpless and pathetic. He is so much stronger than you…especially whilst you are in stilettos and dressed as you are.Next you feel his pulsating manliness ripping into you behind,It’s painful. It’s degrading. It’s not pleasant.But somehow the helplessness and humiliation of your situation is intensely arousing, although your cock is locked away in a chastity device, which only enhances the humiliation and helplessness.Ther is a kind of intense feeling of else if that comes with total surrender.Next you feel his hot juices filling up inside of you.You are in tears.You feel so weak. So powerless.You are just being used as a pathetic prop for another man’s sexual gratification and you have surrendered and are allowing it to happen.It is devastating; debasing; emasculating.Yet so ecstatically arousing. The ultimate girly experience.As he finishes he pushes your face into the pillow and contemptuously exclaims that word: “faggot!”Ther it is. What you have always been deluding yourself into believing that you are not.You know he is right.There is now no rationalisation that you can hide behind.He does up his fly an leaves, as you lie there limply; motionless; pathetically. Unable to move a muscle but whimpering and sobbing like a girl.You know that you have passed the point of no return.You can no longer be a man. And you know you can not be a real woman.Suddenly, puff! You are now a sissy. A fag. Forever.Strangely the realisation fills you with self-loathing and arousal simultaneously. A sense of horror and ecstasy all at once. A paradox you have been graduating towards for some time.You spend the rest of the night, lying there, face down, crying intermittently, wallowing in your girlyness, his cum,still inside you.But you remain torn between the agony and the ecstasy.You wonder where it all went wrong.But deep inside you know that this is where you were always going to end up.Sissy. Faggot. For life.Curious: how many of you Ladies out there would love this to happen in her household?You know Steve, don’t you sweetie? He’s one of the tradesman in the maintenance department at the company where pretend to be a man and people think you’re important. He’s just here to look after my needs that you can’t service. He tells me he has a little left over and he’s promised that if you get down on your stockinged knees and suck it out for him he won’t tell anyone at the firm about the the emasculated transvestite sissy you are, or that you have been locked in a chastity device for years.Most men would find themselves strongly attracted to this image and this woman.As a sissy – a transvestite – I am also very compellingly drawn to it – but in a very different way to real man.A real man would want to have her.I want to be her.I want to look how she looks; to feel the sensations she feels; to exude the sexiness she exudes; to experience the sexual power combined, simultaneously, with the sexual vulnerability she exudes.I know I can’t be her, of course. But by dressing like her, I can feel the soft, erotic friction she feels through her pantyhose when her legs rub against each other; I can feel the tightness she feels from her bra’s embrace; I can feel the warm caress of her short woollen dress; I can feel the sexy gait imposed by her boots; I smell the sweet scent of her perfume on my body; I can taste her lipstick painted on my lips.I alo want to feel what she feels when surrenders herself to a man – or a woman.I have been chaste for some years now and am constantly locked in a steel chastity belt, but one how I feel I can have her in a much more intimate way than any real man can.I could never climax within her, but I share many of the thinks; she feels and experiences without even touching her or knowing her.It is a feeling that does not consummate with the orgasmic rush of intercourse.It is a constant tension and arousal that can never climax or be satisfied, but in many other ways can be far more fulfilling.Do any of you other sissies, transvestites or crossdressers feel the same way?!

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