my f***ed sissy boy sex - Sex Stories

my f***ed sissy boy sex

... head throbbing, eyes glued together, squinting in the dim light as he lay there naked on the rug. Naked save for the cuffs still behind him and the terrible pink chastity still gripping him. He squinted, peeped, trying to focus, there was a noise in the background, it was the television, he lay there for a while, just listening, he didn't know how long, not making sense of the sound until his head cleared a little. Then realising by the groans and moans that it must be sex, he peeped again, struggling to focus, the picture cleared a little, two men appeared to be on another, a small man between them, tied, struggling to get free, was he dreaming still. He moved his head to look around, his head hurt and it was a struggle to see further than the television in front of him, that television, those pictures, those awful pictures, dominating his waking moments. The feet when he saw them,, were bare, feet and legs, bare, it was all he could see. "I'm glad you're awake at last Leanne, my gay little sissy slut, I've been waiting patiently for you, we are going to have so much fun now, aren't we?" the voice breathed, his terror returning at the words and its electronic inhumanity as he found himself quivering, trembling with a cold cold fear. I hope you like it, again I have a problem categorising it and again I apologise for the shortness of the piece, as you can imagine it is emotional to write about it. ***** The feet moved, the visitor standing up, walking silently over to me, I ...

... was trying to swallow, my throat so dry, lips feeling somehow swollen, I tried to speak, to beg to be freed, inside my head I was pleading to be released, but I could hardly manage a croak. The robot voice buzzed again, "Your throat is so dry isn't it slut, you're gasping for a drink now aren't you? but don't worry baby, I'm going to take you for a drink ." The visitor reached down, a hand slipping under my arm, lifting me to my feet "Come on slut, stand up, there's a good girl" I tottered weakly against the visitor, the arm around me holding me upright, guiding me along on legs I could hardly feel. My head was down, I felt so tired and terribly afraid too, that fear bubbling constantly inside me. I hadn't looked at the visitor, hadn't wanted to, hadn't dared. We walked out of the lounge through the hall and the kitchen into the extension, the extension I had told my online Dom about, built for visitors with its privacy door and its lock and key, housing the bedsit with its double bed and ensuite wet room. So far unused, but stupidly offered to him as a place to stay. The visitor lead me across the bedroom, the wooden floor cool on my bare feet, then into the tiled silver and black wet room. On the shelf beside me I saw a pink collar, a dogs collar, a slaves collar, the shiny silver dangling label engraved, slut. "A present for you slut" the electronic voice was chilling, it's every word terrorising me. The visitor slowly let me slide to the floor, my trembling legs too weak ...