Begging
I love when I see a sissy maid come to his Mistress begging to new ways to please her. He looks so lovely. But even more lovely he would look with a gag in his lips and a lot of ropes around him, don't you think?
"Oh Miss, I've dropped the champagne flute!" squealed the sissy maid, his voice echoing through the grand hallway. The shatter of glass punctuated the silence, and his eyes grew wide with terror as he watched the sparkling liquid seep into the Persian rug.
"Sissy, you clumsy oaf!" Mistress scolded, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she strode towards the mess. She wore a figure-hugging red dress that screamed dominance and her eyes sparkled with a mix of annoyance and amusement. The sissy maid, trembling in his black lace lingerie, stockings, and garter belt, stared down at the puddle of champagne, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He knew better than to argue, to protest, or to do anything but await her judgment.
Mistress bent down, her long, slender fingers reaching out to trace the edges of the shattered glass. "Look at what you've done to my precious rug," she said, her voice cold as ice. "You'll have to clean this up, of course. And I'm sure you can think of a way to make it up to me."
The sissy maid swallowed hard, his heart racing in his chest. He glanced up at her, his eyes wide and hopeful, silently begging for mercy. But Mistress wasn't one to be swayed by a pretty face or a set of trembling hands. "I'll need something more than an apology," she said, a cruel smile playing on her lips. "I think it's time we explore some new ways for you to serve me."
Her eyes trailed over the maid's body, lingering on the curves that the short black dress barely contained. She took a step closer, her breath hot against his ear. "I have a feeling you'll enjoy this," she whispered, the promise of something dark and thrilling in her tone. The maid felt a shiver of anticipation run through him, despite his fear.
Mistress snapped her fingers and a set of ropes appeared in her hand. "Turn around," she ordered, and the sissy maid complied, his legs wobbling in the high heels. He felt the ropes loop around his wrists and ankles, tightening until he was bound and immobile. The gag she slipped into his mouth was a final, silent declaration of her power.
As she stepped back to admire her handiwork, the sissy maid's mind raced with thoughts of what might come next. He knew Mistress was creative with her punishments, and he had a suspicion that this was going to be a night he'd never forget. He felt a mix of trepidation and arousal, his body responding to the thrill of the situation even as he knew he'd pay dearly for his clumsiness.
"Sissy, you clumsy oaf!" Mistress scolded, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she strode towards the mess. She wore a figure-hugging red dress that screamed dominance and her eyes sparkled with a mix of annoyance and amusement. The sissy maid, trembling in his black lace lingerie, stockings, and garter belt, stared down at the puddle of champagne, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He knew better than to argue, to protest, or to do anything but await her judgment.
Mistress bent down, her long, slender fingers reaching out to trace the edges of the shattered glass. "Look at what you've done to my precious rug," she said, her voice cold as ice. "You'll have to clean this up, of course. And I'm sure you can think of a way to make it up to me."
The sissy maid swallowed hard, his heart racing in his chest. He glanced up at her, his eyes wide and hopeful, silently begging for mercy. But Mistress wasn't one to be swayed by a pretty face or a set of trembling hands. "I'll need something more than an apology," she said, a cruel smile playing on her lips. "I think it's time we explore some new ways for you to serve me."
Her eyes trailed over the maid's body, lingering on the curves that the short black dress barely contained. She took a step closer, her breath hot against his ear. "I have a feeling you'll enjoy this," she whispered, the promise of something dark and thrilling in her tone. The maid felt a shiver of anticipation run through him, despite his fear.
Mistress snapped her fingers and a set of ropes appeared in her hand. "Turn around," she ordered, and the sissy maid complied, his legs wobbling in the high heels. He felt the ropes loop around his wrists and ankles, tightening until he was bound and immobile. The gag she slipped into his mouth was a final, silent declaration of her power.
As she stepped back to admire her handiwork, the sissy maid's mind raced with thoughts of what might come next. He knew Mistress was creative with her punishments, and he had a suspicion that this was going to be a night he'd never forget. He felt a mix of trepidation and arousal, his body responding to the thrill of the situation even as he knew he'd pay dearly for his clumsiness.
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