The Ballad of Sissy Mike

Guess who's legs, Give up? Mine!

Another tale from my first week as a professional fetishist:

I was alerted by the dungeon manager Bella, that a gentlemen dubbed Sissy Mike would eventually session with me. "He only sessions with the new girls," she told me. "If he likes you he will see you for a few months, but he always moves on the newest girl." Sissy Mike was a cross dresser and he wanted the same role play every time. According to Bella, Mike would fill me in about everything. Then Bella and the other girls, all dungeon veterans, giggled. That was all they were going to tell me. They didn't want to ruin the surprise.

One rainy Monday night Sissy Mike wandered in and requested a session with me. He was in his 50's and wearing a powder blue tracksuit. He was uncomfortably quiet, and he was all business as he dragged me to the sissy closet. He meticulously picked out a bra, panties and stockings, and then he grabbed a flogger.

"So do you like to be flogged?" I asked.

"No," he answered.

We got to the room and Sissy Mike laid out the scenario. I was a clerk at the lingerie store and he would come in to buy some presents for his girlfriend, but I would force him to wear the lingerie himself. So that's what we did. I dressed him in women's underwear and even did his makeup. Then he picked up the flogger and dug into this track pants pocket. He pulled out a magnum condom and unrolled it on the handle of the flogger.

"Call me a bitch and make me suck this."

That was how I learned that a cross dressing man never feels like his outfit is complete unless he has a 'dick' to suck.

I timidly asked his bitch-ass to suck my dick while holding the flogger a foot away from my body. He sucked and his lipstick smeared all over his chin and the condom. The sight of a hairy middle aged man in fuchsia lipstick sucking this makeshift dildo was gruesome. I needed a productive way to channel my disgust.

I took the flogger and put it between my legs with the handle poking out from my crotch.

"I don't think you are sucking hard enough, you ugly bitch!"

Then he really went at my dick. At some point he lay back on the ground, flipped his legs over his head and jerked off onto his own face. Surprise! It's been 4 years and I still haven't seen a man, other than Sissy Mike, ejaculate on to his own face.

After he came, he turned in to the friendliest man you could ever meet. He wanted to talk about literature, movies, the weather, my childhood. Sissy Mike was a completely different person once he got his cross dressing rocks off.

Sissy Mike saw me every Monday night for the next 6 months. He always wore the same track suit. He always barely spoke until the scene was over. His session always had to be exactly the same. I must have seen him come on his own face at least 25 times. When Miss Layla got hired and replaced me as the dungeon newbie, I never sessioned with Mike again. Sometimes I would see him with a new girl in the sissy closet picking out the perfect bra. I always said "Hi Mike" even though he would never answer back.

My first CBT session

This picture was taken on my first day at the dungeon.

It was 4 years ago and I had been working at the commercial dungeon for a couple of months. I showed up for my Saturday afternoon shift and Miss Bella, the receptionist, told me that I had a double session with Mistress Trinity to top a dude named Larry. Mistress Trinity was rail thin, covered in tattoos and had a spiky black mohawk. She looked like the female version of Sid Vicious and I was dressed like a college girl in cheap lingerie. I couldn't believe Larry had paired us together for a session. Obviously, he liked variety.


I had never even spoken to Mistress Trinity before that day, because her bad ass looks intimidated me. She was actually quite soft-spoken and she told me that she had sessioned before with Long Balls Larry. That was his nickname around the dungeon, as he had a extraordinarily low hanging nutsack.  All the girls had seen them at one point. She said he was into CBT and that I should just follow her lead. I tried to get more info out of her, as I had never done CBT before, but she was so blase about the whole thing and didn't say much.

Long Balls Larry had a lazy eye and was in his 50's. He stripped and lay on the ground. Mistress Trinity stood over his body and pressed her booted foot (both of us had been instructed by Larry to wear boots with stiletto heels) on top of his penis, pushing it against his torso. Then she took her foot away and motioned for me to do the same. I was afraid and unsure of how to do it. I tapped my boot against his soft penis. He looked bored. Then I took a swift kick to his cock and he moaned and wiggled. He was happy. Only one thing was going through my head - I can't believe a man is paying me to do this. 


After a bit of that, Mistress Trinity ordered Long Balls Larry to sit up, with his legs spread apart.  Then he lay his cock and balls flat out on the ground between his open legs. Mistress Trinity took the heel of her boot, positioned it right in the middle of one ball and leaned into it! I stood there stone faced, because I didn't want them to see how shocked I was. She was putting all of her body weight on this guy's nut!  The look on Long Balls face was a combination of euphoria and agony. Then it was my turn.

I had never inflicted such pain on a man before and I worried that it may be against my nature.  I grew up with a younger brother, and I could always exert my authority over him by threatening a kick to the groin, but I never actually went through with it. I guess, as a little girl, I was more into the psychological torture than the physical.


I stepped up to Long Balls Larry's long balls. It was starting to make sense to me. His long balls were a byproduct of the years of hardcore CBT. Many great Mistresses before me had stepped on these balls and many other Mistresses would do so for years to come. It was like I was getting ready to squash an institution. I placed the heel of my boot in the middle of his sack, I held my breath and balanced all of my body weight on the heel. And something happened that I never expected to see at that moment. His cock went from flaccid to rock solid. I exhaled. A boner! A sure sign that I was doing good!


Before our session was over, Mistress Trinity asked me if I was up to kicking him in nuts a few times. Yes, yes, yes! I was on a power trip and torturing Long Balls was getting addicting. He kneeled with Trinity standing behind him so he could brace himself during the kicks. I kicked him in the crotch 10 times, over and over, with my right foot.



Long Balls Larry tipped us an extra 50 each and went on his way. When I took off my boots I saw that I had a faint purple bruise on the top of my right foot.

Going to prison has never been this sexy.

Who likes pain? You do!

A young man pulled up to the dungeon on a motorcycle last Sunday afternoon. He requested a warden/prisoner roleplay, with me as the warden. I put on my black thigh high boots because that seemed to me like something that a sexy warden character would wear in a porno.

I handcuffed Biker Boy and pulled him over to the bondage table. Then I checked him out a little bit. He was in his 20's and had a nice head of dark hair and big dark eyes. I pulled his hair and slapped him in the face a few times. I asked him if he was remorseful for the crimes he'd committed.

"No. Let me go and get back to your lip gloss."

Biker Boy was a sassy submissive and wasn't going to make it easy for Warden Sophie! I took the cuffs off and made him strip. I pushed him down on the bondage table and he struggled a little, but not so much that I couldn't strap him down. That's when the real fun began. I clipped my clamps to his nipples and tied up his cock with shoelaces. I twisted and pulled on the clamps, but I didn't take them off. I stood up on the bondage table with one foot on each side of his body. I held on to the bars (we have bars hanging from the ceiling over the bondage table, like the bars that hang over a message table in order for the therapist to safely walk on your back). I used my foot to press his erect cock against his stomach and then I put my full weight on it. I demanded that he tell me he was a sad sorry criminal. He shook his head and said "Never!" I couldn't let the prisoner get away with such audaciousness so I straddled his legs and kneed him in the nuts. He moaned. Then I removed the clamps, which is actually the most painful part of playing with nipple clamps. A little more nipple torture, a little more CBT, and then our time was up.

He left and I stayed inside to straighten up and change back into my civilian clothes. When I was leaving I ran into our Madame. She said that she saw Biker Boy practically skipping off to the parking lot with a huge grin on his face.

Popped my WAM cherry

Someone has a sweet tooth! 

I started sessioning at the Catsuit Lounge last summer. The Lounge is on a large piece of property and we can accomodate clients who want to play outside. Because of that, several of the Catsuit Domme's do splosh sessions. I didn't know a whole lot about sploshing, or WAM, and I didn't anticipate getting any requests for it, so I never gave it much thought. Until. . .

A man called me last week about sploshing and explained that he wanted to be covered in cake batter and whipped cream. I was immediately relieved. Some people like to splosh with baked beans or mud or spaghetti sauce. But cake batter and whipped cream makes me think of a slumber party that's gotten a little out of control. Innocent, fun and sweet.

So the big day came and I met the young man at the Ranch. He was a soft-spoken biologist in his late 20's from the mid-west. He told me that he had never sploshed before, but he had fantasized about it all through childhood while living in a pristine museum-like home under the strict rule of an OCD-clean mother. We drove to the nearest grocery store and he filled the cart with 24 boxes of cake mix and 10 tubs of whipped cream. He was courteous enough to ask me what my favorite cake flavor was.  I told him that I liked to eat white cake but for the purposes of what we were going to do, it really didn't matter. The checkout girl commented that we must be making lots of cakes, and Cakeboy replied "Bake sale."

"Yup!" I pipped in and smiled. "It's a fundraiser for children." I love being a kinky freak who blends so well into normal society.

The set up included mixing the cake batter with water in 3 large buckets, preparing 15 paper plates of whipped cream, laying down a tarp in the back yard and changing into panties and an old tank top (he was nude). And finally, I was ready to dominate. I started by holding a paper plate in each hand and then smashing the plates into the sides of his head at the same time, like I was playing the cymbals.  Then I found an old paint brush and dipped it in the batter and flicked it onto his chest and belly, Jackson Pollock-style. I dunked his head in the bucket, and for the grand finale I emptied the entire bucket over him, until ever bit of his body was covered. My legs and arms were sticky, and I had a few batter clumps in my hair.  He was giggling, and I'd had more fun that I thought I would. I felt like a little kid playing in the mud.

The dungeon only has one bathroom and I told Cakeboy he could shower first. "No you first," he insisted. "I'm gonna be in that shower for a loooong time." Then he grinned from ear to ear. Oh, I get it, he's gotta clean himself up and jerk off. I showered first.