Proud maid
Always is nice to found a proud sissy maid ready to please his Mistress. He always must wearing his maid dress, pantyhose and high heels. Sometiems sissy maid could change something in his clothes, in exmaple, fishnet pantyhose or stockings. But always must be as feminine as possible. Otherwise he could be punished by her Mistress.
Inside the house, a young sissy maid was going through his morning routine. His movements were precise and deliberate, a result of his military background, which was a stark contrast to the delicate lingerie he had been forced to wear. The black fishnet pantyhose clung to his legs, accentuating his newfound feminine curves, while the frilly maid dress barely contained his burgeoning breasts.
His hands trembled slightly as he applied his makeup. The Mistress had specific tastes, and the sissy maid knew that any deviation from her standards would lead to punishment. He painted his lips a vibrant shade of red and applied a thick coat of mascara, his eyes watering slightly.
As he slipped into the towering black high heels, he felt a mix of pain and pleasure. The discomfort served as a constant reminder of his new role, yet the way they made him walk, swaying his hips with every step, brought an unexpected thrill. He practiced curtsying in the mirror, his cheeks flushing pink at the thought of his Mistress's approval. It was a dance of submission that he had become surprisingly adept at.
The sissy maid had learned quickly that every detail mattered. He was proud of the way he looked, a vision of feminine submission wrapped in the tight confines of his Mistress's will. The lace of his black panties peeked out from beneath the short maid dress, a teasing promise of the humiliation and pleasure that lay ahead. The scent of his Mistress's favorite perfume wafted through the air as he sprayed it generously onto his neck and wrists. It was a potent reminder of his place in the household, a scent that made him feel both weak and excited at the same time.
Moving through the halls with a grace that surprised even himself, the sissy maid paused at the sound of his Mistress's footsteps. The click-clack of her heels grew louder, sending a shiver down his spine. He knew what was expected of him, and his heart raced with a mix of fear and anticipation. As she rounded the corner, she took in the sight of him with a critical eye, her lips curling into a smile at his obedience.
"Good morning, Mistress," he greeted, his voice soft and submissive.
Her gaze lingered on his fishnet pantyhose, a hint of lust in her eyes. "You've outdone yourself today," she said, her voice like honey. "Those pantyhose are exquisite."
The sissy maid felt a rush of pride at her words. He had chosen them specifically for her, hoping she would appreciate the way they clung to his legs and highlighted his newfound femininity. The Mistress stepped closer, her hand reaching out to trace the intricate pattern of the fishnet. Her touch was feather-light, sending a jolt of pleasure through him.
"Now, my dear," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "Let's see If the rest of your outfit is up to par"
The Mistress's hand trailed up his leg to the hem of his dress, flipping it up to reveal his black satin panties. She chuckled at the sight of the lacy garment. "I see you're eager to impress," she teased, her fingernails tracing the line of his panties.
The sissy maid's cheeks burned with a mix of proud and arousal.
Mistress's fingers continued their journey up his thigh, pausing to give his ass a firm squeeze. He bit his lip to stifle a whimper, the painful pleasure making his knees wobble slightly. "Thank you, Mistress," he murmured, his voice a breathy whisper.
"Now, let's get to work," she said, her tone switching to one of command. "I want you to serve breakfast in the sunroom."
He nodded, his heels clicking against the marble floor as he made his way to the kitchen. The sunroom was his favorite place in the house, filled with natural light and the sweet scent of flowers from the garden. As he set the table with the finest china and silverware, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of excitement at the thought of serving her in such an intimate setting.
His hands trembled slightly as he applied his makeup. The Mistress had specific tastes, and the sissy maid knew that any deviation from her standards would lead to punishment. He painted his lips a vibrant shade of red and applied a thick coat of mascara, his eyes watering slightly.
As he slipped into the towering black high heels, he felt a mix of pain and pleasure. The discomfort served as a constant reminder of his new role, yet the way they made him walk, swaying his hips with every step, brought an unexpected thrill. He practiced curtsying in the mirror, his cheeks flushing pink at the thought of his Mistress's approval. It was a dance of submission that he had become surprisingly adept at.
The sissy maid had learned quickly that every detail mattered. He was proud of the way he looked, a vision of feminine submission wrapped in the tight confines of his Mistress's will. The lace of his black panties peeked out from beneath the short maid dress, a teasing promise of the humiliation and pleasure that lay ahead. The scent of his Mistress's favorite perfume wafted through the air as he sprayed it generously onto his neck and wrists. It was a potent reminder of his place in the household, a scent that made him feel both weak and excited at the same time.
Moving through the halls with a grace that surprised even himself, the sissy maid paused at the sound of his Mistress's footsteps. The click-clack of her heels grew louder, sending a shiver down his spine. He knew what was expected of him, and his heart raced with a mix of fear and anticipation. As she rounded the corner, she took in the sight of him with a critical eye, her lips curling into a smile at his obedience.
"Good morning, Mistress," he greeted, his voice soft and submissive.
Her gaze lingered on his fishnet pantyhose, a hint of lust in her eyes. "You've outdone yourself today," she said, her voice like honey. "Those pantyhose are exquisite."
The sissy maid felt a rush of pride at her words. He had chosen them specifically for her, hoping she would appreciate the way they clung to his legs and highlighted his newfound femininity. The Mistress stepped closer, her hand reaching out to trace the intricate pattern of the fishnet. Her touch was feather-light, sending a jolt of pleasure through him.
"Now, my dear," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "Let's see If the rest of your outfit is up to par"
The Mistress's hand trailed up his leg to the hem of his dress, flipping it up to reveal his black satin panties. She chuckled at the sight of the lacy garment. "I see you're eager to impress," she teased, her fingernails tracing the line of his panties.
The sissy maid's cheeks burned with a mix of proud and arousal.
Mistress's fingers continued their journey up his thigh, pausing to give his ass a firm squeeze. He bit his lip to stifle a whimper, the painful pleasure making his knees wobble slightly. "Thank you, Mistress," he murmured, his voice a breathy whisper.
"Now, let's get to work," she said, her tone switching to one of command. "I want you to serve breakfast in the sunroom."
He nodded, his heels clicking against the marble floor as he made his way to the kitchen. The sunroom was his favorite place in the house, filled with natural light and the sweet scent of flowers from the garden. As he set the table with the finest china and silverware, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of excitement at the thought of serving her in such an intimate setting.
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