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So... finally something about me.
I don't think I'm your typical sub, or your typical trans - at least judging by most peoples expectations here. What do I mean? Well I'm not worthless, some piece of crap to be ground relentlessly under your foot, I'm not here to make you feel better about your own low self-esteem, to take the punishment for your own inadequacies, or act as a lightning rod for the anger caused by your own perceived failure and the impotence of your actions in the wider world. I've seen more than enough of all of that in my time. So don't call me bitch, or whore, or slut, or slave, or sissy, or maggot; or insist I call you master, or mistress, or lord, or lady, or god-emperor-master-of-darkness-lord-of-all-living-kind on first contact - I don't know you, you don't know me, and if you talk like that first up it's unlikely you ever will. Some of those words, some of them, might be appropriate later, but only if they are felt, if they are real.
I will not suffer fools. I am uncommonly intelligent, and although I wouldn't go so far as to call myself sapiosexual - in so far as I'm equally drawn to empathy, compassion, and wisdom - it's unlikely I'll be attracted to any whose intellect I do not admire. Which means the usual caveats regarding sentences, spelling, and punctuation; having said that I'm not a grammar fascist and can accept the odd mistake, but language is important, being subtle, beautiful, precise, yet vague, and how we choose to use it says everything about us.
Also I'm transsexual, not a porn star, I'm not some viagra cocked, silicon breasted masturbatory dream, I'm a real person, on hormones, but pre-op. I have some breasts, I have some arse, and some thighs. I'm smooth, but I'm still undergoing electrolysis. At the moment I self-identify as intersex, but it's a process and I'm slowly sliding towards the feminine. I say this because I'm not the 'chick with a dick' the less realistic of you might hope for, I'm a softer and vaguer presence than that, but one that's quite happy with, indeed proud of its own current non-binary peculiarity.
I do though despite the requirements listed above, count myself amongst the submissives. It is simply who I am, or more importantly how I love. For me to love is to submit, to fall in love to fall into submission, to desire to need to feel owned, to be possessed, the need to give myself to another, to be theirs. It's complex, and not wholly in the bedroom but overflows into life too, an unspoken contract, a quiet acknowledgement of my weakness and your strength. That's not to say I don't have a will, I am subservient but not a push over, I will always have a mind and an opinion, and have no respect for any to fearful to hear my voice or to follow my thoughts. I suppose I seek one who I can adore rather than fear, where my love is the need to give, and theirs the will to take, to possess.
With more to come soon...
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'Are you sure?'
i look up into her eyes, they are fierce, questioning, but also tender, i know she wants me to be sure, and everything fills my mind at once, my past, all that i shall give away, but mostly my future.
And i feel it so intense, so exquisite, the strange electrical fuzz of my submission, the the shrinking, moistening of my so so tender clit, the unquenchable desire flooding my belly, and i sense too what she offers, the absolute destruction of my manhood, the release at last of my truly feminine self, realised in service to her, the fulfilment of so many of our dreams. And i see too what she wants, she wants me to worship her, to feel such pleasure just to know she has accepted me, to crave her like an illness that there is nothing i would not do for her, to beg for her touch, for i know only though her can i be whole. She knows this and adores my weakness, her power, and my supplication, she needs me to need to be her girl, to become her wife, to systematically change me, to make me the woman we both deserve. i make her perfect, for there is no greater woman than can make a boy a girl, a true, devoted, enslaved, addicted gurl, perhaps the most feminine soul in existence.
i can barely breath, the excitement and the tightness of my corset pushing the air from my lungs, my vision blurs as tears well, and streak down my face.
'Well alexis, are you sure?'
Her voice is like a slap to my ass.
'Oh god. Yes. Please. i am yours to have..'
'Please.' i whimper.
She smiles, laughs as i avert my eyes, reaches down, grips my chin powerfully in her hand, and forces me to look up, to look into her face, to show her my soul, and i open myself to her.
'You know what it means, to be mine, to be my wife? There is no going back, once you are mine, i will own all of you, control every aspect of your life, your dress, behaviour, appearance, thoughts, yes even your deepest fantasies, you will be in your entirety possessed and open to me.'
As she speaks our eyes are locked together, and all i can feel is devotion, a longing to be hers, and i want her to know i am hers, and i want the world to know, and i plead in my mind for her to enter me to possess me. Somehow i know that she sees this, and i feel her invade my very being, know and devour all that she wants of me. I know too that it is too late, that i am already hers, no matter my answer, we both know i am hers for the taking, should she wish it, but we know too that what matters is that i give myself to her, that i give myself to her every second of my existence.
i smile so sweetly, but am afraid to that she might yet reject me.
'Yes My Queen, i understand.'
'And you know that from this moment can only ever be a girl, the instant my collar closes any chance or vestige of your male ego is gone, i will destroy this burden for you forever, this is my gift to you, but it is your choice alexis, boy or gurl?'
My body screams for her, needs her so much it hurts, i have no choice, no freedom in this, i can know fulfilment, live at last in the world, or crush myself with fear and doubt, alone.
'i am your gurl… please, your wife, make me your gurl, collar me i beg you. I beg you'
i lean forward from my kneeling position, onto my hands, brush my hair away from my neck, offering myself to her. I close my eyes, tensing in anticipation. I can smell the leather, but it seems an age until i feel the collars first touch against my skin, and it feels… wonderful… as i feel her hands around my neck, tightening the collar, locking it in place… it feels… as i feel all strength drain from me, as if entering a dream, melting into another world… it feels like castration, wonderful castration, and i look at her so happy, so grateful, for she alone, and so simply has destroyed the boy i was and released at last the gurl i am to be. And my body, mind, and soul ache for her, burn so bright in their lust for this woman, their need to envelop and accept her, cling desperately to her, beg her to enter.
'Oh my good good girl.'
But she walks across the room, to a table, where lies a box, and takes from it a syringe.
'My Queen?'
'Bend forward my dear, I want your ass in the air and your face no the ground.'
I do as she commands, my buttocks bare, soft, and white.
'Mmmm.' She says as she runs her hands over my rounded flesh, kneading the soft fatty tissue between her fingers. I breathe quick and shallow, involuntarily moaning as she does so, waves of desire willing her into me. Two quick hard slaps, and i'm left panting in ecstasy.
'This my dear is your hormones, I believe it's the safest, most effective form of delivery, and I think I will rather enjoy administering to you like this.'
i feel the needle puncture my skin, the cold swell of the injection, and my submission intensifies again, taking me to a level i had never before known. i feel the needle withdraw, and she wipes the small bead of blood away with a finger and into her mouth.
'Mmmmm, my beautiful gurl.'
I begin to move, my buttocks, belly, and thighs, involuntarily beating, soft, tight, gently back and forth. I need her to fuck me, to feel her cum inside me, to feel her fill my very being. To feel her cum inside me as her girl, to cum for her as her girl, to show her what i am, what i have become, what she has made me, and to share the joy i feel.
She runs a hand up over my corset, hooks her fingers into the lacing and pulls me upright, still kneeling, i feel her behind me now, turn my head backwards to smell her, as she runs her hands over the smooth soft skin of my thighs, up over my waist, pulling and tugging at my nipples, rolling them hard between her fingers, i cry out for her, pushing myself backwards, longing to feel her against me, and i feel her strapon pressing roughly into my giving flesh.
She kisses my quivering neck. 'It is time alexis.'
She pulls me up, clips a leash to my collar, and takes me to a bench, padded in leather. She indicates that i should lie backwards upon the bench, pushes a pillow under my back, forcing me to arch upwards, exposing my breasts and clit, then working quickly she takes ropes and secures my legs and hands, strapped either side, ties another about my waist, so tight all but the slightest breath is forced from my body. Then taking a finer rope she binds it tightly about my cliffy, and the atrophied gurl balls in my sack. i embrace the numbness the cruel restriction of my bloods flow, i recall in delight the rings my grandfather used for castrating his animals, and wonder for a moment if that might be my fate. Then she moves up, rubs her rough hands incessantly over my breasts, calling my nipples to attention, then binds these too, pulling them foreword into round distended peaks. I simply lie there whispering 'oh My Queen' again and again, looking to her in adoration.
She cleans me sterilises those parts she has bound. She examines my nipples, pulling them hard away from me.
'We must make these deep, mustn't we my wife, we don't want to interfere with your milking after all.'
Then calmly she undresses, whilst i shiver, and beg in anticipation, my eyes drinking in the beauty of her frame, her size, and hair, the perfection of my own smooth softness. She straddles my face, her lips, resting so enticingly before me, my senses filled with the musk of her womanhood, i try so hard to reach and kiss her, but as the slightest cum oozes onto my tongue, i feel the needle forced into my breast, and scream in ecstatic submission, again and again as she pierces both nipples, locking my rings forever in place. She rubs blood lovingly over my body, over her own, whilst my cunt pulls me deeper and deeper into the joys of my true femininity.
i beg her to make me her wife, but she simply smiles, in complete control.
'But darling we have only just begun.'
She moves away, takes a fresh needle, and begins to play lightly with the glans, the only exposed part of my tiny lit. She squeezes it hard, between forefinger and thumb, but it is numb, i feel nothing save pleasure in its lack. In a moment it too is pierced, and a large debilitating ring pushed into place.
I whisper 'i love you.' and she smiles.
She unties me as i lie there limp, exhausted by the glory of my beginning, then somehow she lifts me and turns me face down, retying me in this new position, bent over the end of the bench, my buttocks exposed, and as she forces me down my tender breasts begin to to pulse a steady rhythm, matching the steady need of my cunt.
There in the fire for over an hour a brand has sat, warming now to a steady orange glow, and i smile, so so happy that i have found one who will allow me to bare her mark, and i beg her to make me hers, to mark as her own, to demand that i dedicate myself to her and her alone, and i feel the pain, my body spasm at its intensity, and know that i am broken, that all resistance is gone, that at last a lifetime of dreams has reached its fruition, that i am free, that i am at last hers, and hers alone, and i scream again begging her to fuck me, to spend himself in me, to make me her girl, her wife, her slave, and somehow she takes pity, i feel her slide naked inside me, possessing me, fucking me, harder and harder, the fullness of his strapon her own wetness running into me, changing me, the strength of her desire taking me to places i had only dreamed of and feared to go alone, until she cums deep deep inside me, pushing me beyond to cum myself, truly as a woman, as her woman, reborn in the crucible of our desire. |
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