Ballad of the Sissy Slut

I found a sissy by surprise

Trying on my best thigh highs

“You thieving bitch!” I said to him,

“Get on the floor. Obey my whims.”

So he did, his satin creased

I perked his bum up, hot and greased

I laughed to see his clit a-throbbing

Dribbling juice, the tip a-bobbing

“What a nasty slut you are

But just obey and you’ll go far.”

Cue the music, hit the lights

Disgusting fun all day all night

Rope and sounding, CBT

Ball gags, clamps, tongue on my feet

My needs first, never yours

The thief found snooping through my drawers

Silky sissy frilly slut

Clips and zips, all buttoned up

And your butt your butt your butt your butt

Dressed like that you’re going to get what…you deserve

When I’m through, and you are too,

Have an oily rag to wipe up your goo

Stumble out of my house to the harsh daylight

Panties in pocket, feeling tight

People point and laugh and stare

They know about your underwear

Wobble home on shoes too high

Lube still dribbles down your thigh

Dirty, greedy, hungry frill

You’ll be back – you know you will.


Foot Worship

 I went to an event in Toronto for female dominants and submissive admirers, where I met a foot fetishist. He seemed sweet, so I asked him what did it for him. As he explained, he showed me photos of young women’s feet, painted nails, smooth skin, straight toes. He said it was all in the presentation. The polish mustn’t be chipped. He said individuals each have their thing, but from his point of view it is the arch of the foot, the straight line of toes (especially the two next to the big one), the space between them, are only the beginning of it. He told me that having access to this place in the body, where all nerves end, is the biggest thrill. Knowing that he can give pleasure by touching the lowest place on a woman makes him feel…useful.

I pressed one foot against his chest and the other hard against his crotch. He looked at me nervously since we were only at a drinks social, but this was too intriguing to pay attention to flimsy formalities. I let him massage each of my feet slowly, smell them through my stockings, kiss the warm flesh. It was sensual and pure and I felt luxurious and relaxed. I deserved some quality pampering that night after walking around the city in high heels all day. It’s a beautiful thing to feel a fetish blossoming in the moment.

I saw a friend the week after and told him about my experience. When we got more comfortable, he took my foot in his mouth and swallowed it down to below the second joint of my big toe. This was very erotic for me, a genderfuck moment. Never before had anyone deepthroated any part of me, unless you count dildos. As a reward I gave him a little slap on the face with my foot, rubbing it up his nose so he looked like the piggie he knew he was.

I think it all begins with a well-heeled shoe. I’m a fan of shiny or soft firm leather, since they catch the light so nicely and are so rewarding to lick and polish. The heel should be high enough to accentuate my natural arch and still feel good to walk down city streets in. I like my shoes to be admired, caressed, kissed, and ultimately removed. This part is not to be rushed. The foot will still be there no matter how long you pay attention to my shoes and stockings, so take a little time to please me here. Remove my shoe slowly, with both hands, because you are undressing your Queen. My Toronto dungeon has many a chaise lounge for me to recline upon, several small hard stools for you to perch on.  Foot worship is becoming a favourite fetish of mine, because it is primarily for my sensual pleasure. Your gratification is hardly my concern. You are here to please me. Remember that while you are down there touching up my pedicure.

Stocking Fetish

Puling on a pair of nylons is my favourite start to a working day. I fasten them with garter clips, and they show through my tight pencil skirt small, hard and telling. If you know what to look for. The tops of the stockings with the line of the garter belt frames my figure perfectly, and with a pair of leather high heels I leave my house feeling rather pleased and powerful. The lines of the backseams disappear under my clothes, sparking the imagination of commuters on the TTC. Dainty patterned fishnets to thick woolen argyles, I’ll take all colours, patterns  and thicknesses.

Seeing tights on other people makes me want to tear holes in the thin fabric like unwrapping a gift. Seeing a woman revealing the lacy top of a stay-up from the slit in a dress is a pure thrill. Spying the telltale toe seam of a pair of pantyhose underneath a man’s jeans is almost a direct invitation to drag him into a dark corner and tear holes in them so I can see what he’s up to under there.

I like it when my sub sucks my stocking-clad toes after I’ve had a hard day strutting around town squeezed into high heels. I like to smother her with my dirty feet, let her inhale the sweet sharpness of me. When I’m done with her worshipping my feet, I might allow her to sniff between my legs, but only if she’s very very good. When I wear pantyhose, things do get rather warm and damp in there, so a nice silky nylon face-sitting or covered queening is the sub’s reward for good behaviour.

If the gentleman is inclined to pull on a pair of pantyhose, it is my pleasure to train him how to to be a proper sissy slut. I give lessons on posture, gesture, and movement. I coach on cock sucking whilst he is crossdressing in stockings and a garter belt, looking up at me so sweetly as he deepthroats my dildo. If he doesn’t do it well enough, he is likely to be punished in a forced bi session with a well-hung Dom friend of mine. He will love the look of that sissified frill-framed arse and those sissification stockings.

Slaves, if you wish to praise my beauty and power, gift me with nylons, shower me with silk. It’s tights I love.