I am a strict dominant mistress, who will humiliate you into forced sissy
maid training, just for you lovely sissy maids. Female domination is superior, and discipline and servitude
is all you should know. If you are a French maid, or domestic sissy you will
be cross dressed, and a sissy transformation will occur, you will love every
moment of it. A Dominant mistress, is all a sissy maid should know. Sissy
maids training and sissy French maids are in my sissy maid video, you just
have to watch.
Maids outfits, maid dresses, tight lacing corsets, wigs, stockings are
all order of the day. I also have a school for sissy maids; you will come
along to my chambers and be forced to do anything I wish. Your life is to
serve only me.
Not just 2 or 3 wigs my little sweet girls, but dozens. You
will really be in Stunning Sissy Maid Heaven. Make up is COMPULSORY, so don’t
even think you can go without. All my beautiful preened little pink poodles’
succumb to Me. I will apply your make up in such a way, you just won’t
recognise yourself GIRL ! I will select exactly what I want you to wear
from My many sissy maid outfits, dozens of exquisite fluffy, frilly, fantastic
petticoats with yards and yards of luxurious frivolous crinoline.
I use only the best boned corsetry,
made by Vollers, I have at least 15 in various colours and sizes. And of
course my little poodles bitches nothing else will do for my girls except
the best silk and satin lingerie, marabou mules, in of course baby pink,
raven black and cerise. Five inch court shoes, so you may teeter around me,
making sure your Mistress is completely satisfied.
In addition, deportment training,
curtsey, etiquette will prepare you for your duties as the Madam Raison
D'être new little sissy. Oh sweetie, I hope you realize, I won’t take any
prisoners so be prepared to come into the house of a busy Mistress. There
are various maid sitting and standing positions, over time you will learn
all of these to my SATISFACTION. There are 137 in total, therefore make sure
your pencil is well sharpened and note book to the ready.
I may, if you prove yourself truly
worthy let you help Me dress, but only the French maid can do that. Then of course to prepare for the arrival
of my other minions. Oh girls, don’t think all of your time will be spent
in the mirror, that’s just not realistic in real life service. You will be
My prissy sissy maid, and you know something? You will love every delicious
second of it. Obviously My chambers will be spotless, even if I have to
make you clean the bathroom floors with your tongue.
Afternoon tea in my household is like
a religion, therefore you will be required to wait upon me, and of course my
guests. Preparing My favourite tea, Assam of course, black, and strained
through the prettiest of silver tea strainers.
You will be
required to do any duties that are set for you,
from household chores, dusting, general
cleaning, scrubbing floors, like a good little
bitch. Toilet cleaning, washing, ironing.
Perhaps even some gardening, I always like fresh
flowers. Perhaps one day when you training is up
to scratch and you have proved yourself to My
high standards, you may be sent on a shopping
expedition.
Maids and Sissy maid Uniforms all sizes and
bright colours, especially pink
Silk & Satin panties in a wide variety of styles
and colours
Dozens of Pretty petticoats, pink being my favourite
colour
Stockings, tights, hold ups, black white or flesh tone
Silicone breast forms in various sizes
Corsets (vollers) girdles, bra’s suspender belts
Dozens of wigs
Shoes, high heels and flats
Mistress was in one of her frilly moods and I was dressed accordingly.
Underneath everything was a steel chastity belt to tuck things away, very
frustrating but also as sexy as mistress kept the key on a pink satin ribbon
around her neck. The key dangled between her breasts, not that I needed an
excuse to look there. My breast forms were glued on. One day, mistress said
that she would insist on me having a boob job of my own, but I wondered if she
was just joking, but then mistress rarely joked about such things. A tingle of
excitement and shame ran down my spine at the thought. I wore the sheerest
seamed nylon hold-ups covered with some really frilly and noisy white taffeta
bloomers which rustled at the slightest movement. They had multiple layers of
frills at the back and of course at the edges, top and bottom. The material was
double-lined as that felt so much better next to the skin, except of course that
the belt prevented any feeling. If I had been bad, mistress would add an anal
dildo which would lock on to teach me a lesson.
Mistress added a matching camisole over my forms, matching the bloomers,
very soft and sexy. It seemed a shame to cover such beautiful garments, but I
had naturally to wear a maid's uniform, for I was mistress's full-time sissified
slave, whose whole existence was focused on my mistress, whose only reason for
being was to serve her. It was a demanding life but one which had its own rich
satisfaction in being able to be in my mistress's presence and to bask in her
beauty and refinement. The maid's uniform was to die for, a concoction of frills
that rustled also, creating the fro fro look so beloved of my mistress. The
skirt was very full, pushed out by a lavish petticoat which itself was
multi-layered and had frills at the edge of each layer. The dress had layer
after layer of frills all the way down the dress, a cascade of frills even.
Naturally, it locked on at my neck so no escape was possible. At my neck was a
ruffle that stood out a full nine inches in all directions, forcing me to keep
my head high and making it hard to see much below my neck. Mistress had sewn
little bells over the breasts so any movement caused a jingle, and also at the
top of my arms and along the fringe of the skirt. It was almost impossible to
avoid making a jingle in the dress but mistress loved to make me stand still in
the dress at times and would cane me if she heard a sound. It was exquisite
torture when I had also to wear 5 inch heels to serve her, also locked on with
sweet heart-shaped padlocks. The bells also made it plain whether I was working
or not and woe betide me if she heard silence when she had set me a task.
Mistress liked to tease me mercilessly. She would have me make tea, serve it
to her and then stand back, waiting for orders. Naturally, she would expect me
to stand still and not to fidget, and this dress made it hard to be silent of
course. She would wait a while, smiling inwardly at my state, liking my
frilliness, my submission that I had to look at the floor with my head bowed in
supplication as she sipped her tea.
"Were you looking at my breasts, maid Caroline?” She might inquire.
"Oh no, mistress, that would be most improper," I would retort.
"You
lying little prissy bitch, I know you, you are always sneaking a peak when you
think I'm not looking."
It was true that my mistress was so desirable. She would wear such
magnificent corsets, having me lace her in, creating such wonderful cleavage in
which nestled the key to my belt. I would naturally wish to look at that area,
and even more so when I could see the key there and dream of my mistress
relenting and using it to free me.
"You deserve a lesson, I won't have such impudence. Assume the position."
I bent over and put my forearms on a table, arching my back. Mistress pushed
my petticoats up and pulled down my bloomers, exposing my cheeks and stroking
them.
"It's the cane for you, dear, you know it's what you deserve, isn't
it?"
"Yes, mistress," I responded with a dry mouth, anticipating the
punishment to come.
"I won't gag you as I want you to count, assuming you
can count beyond ten I suppose, you stupid little bitch, and I want to hear you
cry."
I gulped at the threat, the promise even, as she swished her dragon
cane theatrically.
"It makes such a lovely sound, don't you think?” She
asked rhetorically.
The preliminaries over, she commenced the punishment. I had to count each
stroke and thank her, my tone allowing her to judge the pace of the punishment.
I did not know how many strokes I had to endure, perhaps 30, perhaps more. She
might give me softer strokes if she was feeling kind, but often she liked to see
the welts afterwards for a week and she enjoyed making me cry. I hated it with a
vengeance, but the act of submission itself was immensely rewarding and
exciting, to be helpless before her, to be totally reliant on her mercy.
After 20 strokes, she paused and walked in front of me, raising my chin with
her cane and wiping away a tear.
"So, maid Caroline, do you like to look at my breasts with such abandon?”
she asked, the position making it impossible for me to do otherwise. She
relished the situation, knowing that she could, if she was feeling mean, double
the punishment for me having the temerity to look where she was forcing me to
look, but at the same time enjoying my obvious delight at the sight. She was so
beautiful it melted my heart completely, and in truth she could do anything she
wanted with me. I adored her completely, even as she delighted in torturing me
beyond the point of endurance.
What could I say? If I said yes, then she could admonish me for being so
forward and slutty, if I said no, she could punish me for not worshipping her as
was appropriate. She liked to create such situations, to see how I would react,
to see if I would take more punishment by being honest in my complete devotion
to her. The more compliant and obedient I was under her training, the stricter
she became, a virtuous circle that took me to ever greater depths of submission.
"Yes, mistress, You know that I adore you completely, that I also beg humbly
to be released from chastity."
She laughed at my forward request.
"You can dream of release, bitch, but you have to earn that. You may be
freed if you serve me absolutely perfectly but not before."
Her eyes flashed at my helplessness, at the crushing blow to my hopes of
release, even though I was so frustrated after two weeks locked up. She loved my
condition, deliberately brushing against me, showing herself, arousing me as she
knew the effect she had on me and it delighted her.
She returned to cane me some more. Tears ran freely down my cheeks as she
continued, my bottom was on fire but I dutifully counted and thanked her for
punishing me. I adored her for being so strict with me, even as I squirmed in
frustration and pain. She was such a joy to be with, to serve, I loved her
completely.
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