Now I don’t normally reblog pics of gurls in black because the rule in MY household is that (except in the case of formal uniforms) black is the color reserved for dommes. Sissy girls are always dressed in pink and other similarly femme colors to signify their status. But this little lady was just so prettily polished and well put-together that I couldn’t resist. :)
*chuckles* Now who could resist an offer like that? Don’t deny it, I see your little cockette twitching at the thought!
Oh yes, we can all see how much you “hate” being treated this way sissy.
You Don’t Need a Weatherman to Know Which Way the Wind Blows
I have a bit of a odd and kinky history that goes back a ways. I spent years searching for the right BDSM relationship—that long lonely search many male submissives undertake. My own journey seemed to be nothing but a long string of disappointments, one night stands, meeting and failing to click with people offline when it had seemed so promising online, or people who always seemed to have a story or a reason to avoid ever having to meet at all. The usual bs that comes with trying to meet people online.
Thank god I’m off of that bitter treadmill now. Meeting Mistress on Alt Com and becoming Her owned slave has…saved me from all of that. Made it all worthwhile.
Anyway…the strangest kink adventure in my life…It was about six years ago, just before moving to Florida and meeting Mistress. I had been returning to my kinky quest after several years of giving up, doing the personal ad sites and such. I had kind of given up on the idea of finding “The One”, you know, a woman who would be interested in me romantically as well as a submissive. I had just been burned too many times, and my living situation at the time would have made that impossible to find anyway. So I was looking for couples who were interested in playing with a sissy slave. The idea had always been one of my favorite fantasies, and I reasoned I might be a pretty good catch—-I could be a totally nonthreatening, non-demanding addition to a polygamous relationship. Both the Mistress and Master could feel safe that I would not upset or jeopardize their primary relationship in any way shape or form.
And that was what I looked for, and after while I began corresponding with this domme online. She was intelligent, witty, great sense of humor—seemingly exactly my ‘type’. She was looking for a sissy slave to play with herself and her boyfriend.
There was a complication, however—isn’t there always? The boyfriend was married to someone else, so this was a relationship on the side. So everything had to be hush-hush.
She made arrangements to meet me, a few miles from my apartment at my favorite Irish bar. Always a bit noisy and crowded, we could talk about whatever we liked without being overheard. She told me the BF might be able to join us, but this was really just a meeting between she and I so she could suss me out, see if we clicked, see if I could be trusted or not.
I remember seeing her and getting all excited….yes, she was exactly my type…that naughty but nerdy look, with glasses and a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Curves in all the right places, a bit overweight but not excessively so.
We talked pleasantly for probably a half hour or so. I’m sure I was shy and awkward—I always am when meeting someone. But apparently it wasn’t a deal breaker because she told me that she liked me, that she saw some real possibility here. She was going to tell her BF that I was ok for him to meet and, surprise surprise, it was going to happen that very evening.
But first…could I keep a secret?
Of course, I said. You know my secrets…seen my pics…I’m trusting you with that stuff, you can trust me with yours.
She explained about her BF being married. That her relationship with him could not become public, that both she and him were known in their industry and so they had to really play it safe for their careers as well as his marriage.
What do you do then? I ask.
She tells me she’s a columnist in the local alternative weekly newspaper—I had read her column before actually, and enjoyed it many a time. She tells me her BF is in the journalism field as well.
I’m really excited at this point. I tell her that’s incredible, I’m in the same field (or trying to be) myself and I tell her who I work for and she recognizes it and she seems thoughtful for a second and tells me that she and he BF could really help me out in my career, that they had the contacts and connections to help get me to a better place.
This is seriously a dream come true at this point. My head was swimming, I’m telling myself to try to not let my hopes get up so high but at this point I’m thinking I might just have won the lottery in my kinky relationship quest and this is going to change my entire life for the better.
She gets a text and tells me her BF is about to arrive. “My boyfriend…you might recognize him. But please don’t say anything.”
I assure her I won’t.
And then he comes in, and sits next to her with a big, familiar smile. Holy shit. I DO know this guy. Its the weatherman from Channel X.
And at this point I need to interject here: I’m not going to say what TV channel, or even what city he’s from. While on the one hand I do not owe him or her anything now, a promise is still a promise. And he’s still on the air, every weeknight at 6 and 11.
They hug and exchange secret smiles to each other and he asks her if I’m a good candidate to play with them. She tells him that I am, and she is really looking forward to playing with us both. There’s no time like the present, he says. He only has a little bit before having to go back to the station to get ready for the 11 o’clock newscast. She grins at that, and orders me to get up and follow them outside to the parking lot.
I’m utterly utterly gobsmacked at this point, but I obey. Holy fuck.
We get inside his SUV towards the back of the parking lot, he gets in the backseat, I’m ordered to kneel on the floor next to him, she sits up front but within reaching distance of both him and I.
Kiss his crotch, she says. Meet your new Master.
I’m all gooey and submissive and feeling myself fall deep for both of them at this point…I’m not wearing a stitch of female clothes on me but my inner slavegirl just comes out and I just mellllt and soon enough I’m obediently unbuckling his pants and kissing and sucking his cock while her hands are in my hair forcing me on it while the two of them are kissing and holy shit i’m in a suv out in public in a parking lot and i’m sucking the cock of the weather guy from channel x!!!!
Flashing in my mind at this utterly bizarre and absurd moment was a quote from “Saving Private Ryan”, of all things.
“Sergeant, we have crossed some strange boundary here. The world has taken a turn for the surreal..”
Now..I know TV weathermen, news anchors and so forth are not A or even B-level celebrities. They are C-level at best, known only at a local level and that to anyone outside of the broadcast area Mr. WeatherDom’s real name would be meaningless. I’m still not going to reveal the name but I think you as the reader here of my sordid little tale, to best appreciate the topsy turvy state of mind I was in should try to imagine yourself in a parked car having carnal relations with your local celebrity weatherman within 15 minutes of meeting said celebrity after seeing the guy on TV for years telling you your day is going to be partly cloudy and mild.
Back to the scene….its so hot…one of the hottest experiences I’ve ever had… She plays with herself as they kiss, as her hands guide me on his cock…he cums in my mouth and I’m in such a state of shock it doesn’t dawn on me til later that this too, is another first in my life and I was too far gone to even gag on it.
Everyone rests a few minutes….then he zips up, tells she and I how great that was, have to do it again soon and he’s off to the station for his broadcast. She makes her goodbye as well, tells me how thrilled she was at my obedience and that we would be getting together again real soon.
I drive home, dazed, laughing out loud at the absurdity of it as well as the sheer delight of it! And I turn on Channel X’s 11 o’clock news with his taste still on my lips and watch WeatherDom doing the 5-Day with that smile and and not a hint in his delivery that he had just had a sordid 3-way with his gf and their new male slave not more than 2 hours ago.
Life has taken a turn for the surreal. Yes indeedy.
I had one more encounter with them, not long after. Another really hot scene, where she had fully femmed me in my apartment and he had arrived and I got to serve them both en femme, this time fluffing him ready before he fucked her on my bed and getting to orally worship her to several orgasms after he had gone.
Things seemed perfect. She and I continued to talk online, on the phone, I felt as if things were only going to get better and better.
And one day, out of the blue, she just…stopped writing me back. Not even a goodbye or an explanation.
I was crushed. I agonized over what I might have done or said to have caused this. Did I say something wrong? Worse…did he find me so unappealing and ugly en femme that he had told her to break it off with me?
Its only now, years later that I can objectively add another possibility to what happened—that their relationship as BF-GF was broken off, or put on the shelf for a while because of his marriage and that I really wasn’t rejected at all. Still…if that was the case…they should have told me. :(
In a way, maybe things happen for a reason after all. It was the heartbreak over this apparently-perfect kink-and-professional relationship going belly up without explanation that was the impetus behind my decision to say fuck it, my life in this city isnt going anywhere, my career will never advance here and I will never meet anyone, why not just up and move to Florida where I can at least be warm year round and goto the beach.
And so I did. Moved down in 2007 and in December of 2008 I met Mistress. :)
And she has made me Hers. And loves me, has kept me. Has shown no sign at all of wanting to ever let me go or just disappear on me as so many others have in my life. No, my career has never taken off and has even gotten worse than it did before and I’ve barely got two nickels to rub together but…with Mistress, none of that really matters. I’m happy, the happiest I have ever been.
I am the owned slave of Lady Erisiana Cherie. And I am content.