Mistress Marie Owns Small Dick Sissy

CHAPTER 1: THE RETURN

Small Dick Sissy’s knees ached on the tile. The scent of lavender and leather filled the room—his cleaning had been meticulous, and the flickering candles now lined every surface, casting shadows that trembled with anticipation. The soft hiss of the bathwater behind him was the only sound, perfectly calibrated to 102 degrees. Jasmine and rose petals floated on the surface like a promise. Or a trap.

He was naked. Of course he was naked. It was the only way to do chores, as Mistress Marie had commanded. He wasn’t allowed to dress until she chose what his pathetic body would wear—and even then, it would be slutty, demeaning, and tight.

He adjusted his posture: spine straight, head bowed, arms behind his back, palms up—just as she’d trained him. Before him, laid out in perfect rows: four chastity cages. The cold silver one. The humiliating pink resin one. The purple one with an open slit underneath for teasing. And the worst—her favorite—a tiny pink metal cage with an attached leash ring and padlock slot. All sat atop a velvet cushion, next to the locking chastity belt that would ensure no “accidents.”

Behind that, perfectly aligned, were the toys: dildos, plugs, the Lovense Hush, the Domi wand, the Ferri, the Gush. The Hitachi buzzed faintly where it rested, already charged.

He inhaled. The clock ticked. Any moment now…

The front door opened. His stomach clenched. Her heels clicked softly as she entered. She didn’t speak—not yet. She never did. She let the silence weigh on him like gravity.

Her silhouette entered the candlelight. She wore black leather leggings and a red silk blouse, undone just enough to reveal the swell of her chest. Her nails were painted a glossy, cruel black. Her eyes locked on him.

She smirked. “You remembered everything.”

His heart pounded. “Yes, Mistress.”

She walked slowly toward him, her fingers trailing over the table edge. “Show me.”

He straightened. “Cages, as instructed. Belt ready. Toys cleaned. Bath drawn. Outfits hung. Waiting for your selection.”

She crouched beside him, eyeing the cages. Her fingers brushed each one—until she picked up the pink metal one and clicked the ring between her nails.

“This one. Obviously.”

His cheeks burned.

“You’ll wear it for me tonight,” she said, unlocking the clasp. “With the belt. You’ve been leaky lately, haven’t you?”

He couldn’t answer. The correct response was silence.

She placed the ring around him. The cage slid on with practiced finality. Then the locking belt. The final click echoed across the room.

She rose to her full height and placed the key in her bra.

Then she said, “Crawl to me.”

⸻

CHAPTER 2: MARKED AND MUZZLED

Small Dick Sissy crawled to her slowly, the leash ring on the front of his cage swinging gently with each movement. He winced as the belt shifted against his hips with each shuffle. His palms flattened against the floor, back arched, eyes down. She didn’t tell him to stop. He crawled until he was kneeling between her boots.

Mistress Marie’s voice was low and dangerous. “Present yourself.”

He reached back and spread his ass cheeks, displaying the plugless hole she would soon fill. His cage throbbed under the belt. He hated how automatic the arousal had become.

She crouched again and inspected her property.

“Hm,” she murmured. “Still soft from the bath. But not mine yet.”

She stood and walked behind him. He didn’t dare move. Something clicked on the table—a pen. Then the cold sting of ink across his right cheek.

“There,” she said. “That one says ‘Property of Marie.’” She paused, then chuckled. “And this one—‘Used Toy.’ Very accurate.”

He could feel the wet ink soaking into his skin. He tried not to squirm.

“Now,” she said, returning to her toys. “You’re going to choose a plug, aren’t you, sissy?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he breathed.

“Go to the cabinet. Crawl. Bring each plug to me in your mouth. I want to see which you think you deserve.”

He didn’t hesitate. The cabinet was ten feet away, but it might as well have been a mile. Each plug he fetched—black silicone, the jeweled pink one, the long spiraled one—was gripped between his teeth as he brought it to her feet. He laid them in a neat row.

She picked up the thickest one.

“Interesting. You think you deserve this?”

He hesitated.

She backhanded his ass with the crop. “Answer!”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She pressed it to his lips. “Get it wet. Like a good toy.”

He sucked the tip obediently, eyes closed, humiliated. She didn’t stop watching.

Then she reached down and pressed it to his hole. “Spread.”

He obeyed.

It slid in with a cruel slowness, and the fullness made him shiver. Once seated, she smacked his ass again, directly over the writing.

“Now that’s a look,” she purred. “Plugged, caged, and crawling. Still not ready for your outfit, though.”

She stepped back and nodded at the bar cart.

“Drinks.”

He looked up.

“You heard me,” she said. “Still naked. Still plugged. You’re going to make me a drink. No tray. No hands.”

His face burned. But he obeyed.

She sipped the red wine he brought her in trembling hands. Then walked to the bedroom, leaving the leash dragging on the floor behind her.

“Time to dress up, sissy,” she called over her shoulder. “Fashion show’s about to begin.”

CHAPTER 3: THE DOLL PARADE

The bedroom glowed in low, red light. A single candle flickered on the vanity. In the center of the bed, reclining like royalty, Mistress Marie waited. One leg crossed over the other. Glass of wine in her left hand. Her phone in her right—already recording.

“Strip,” she said. “You’ll change into each outfit in front of me. Slowly. I want to see every inch of your pathetic body as you squirm into your new look.”

He nodded, cheeks already burning. “Yes, Mistress.”

She pointed to the chair beside the bed. “Stand there. And no covering yourself. The belt stays on.”

He stepped onto the platform and took the first item from the vanity: the pink lace thong. Delicate, feminine, and humiliating. He stepped into it, dragging it up over his thighs, carefully tucking the cage down into the lace front.

Marie purred. “You look like a desperate little sissy in heat.”

He turned to face her.

“No,” she said firmly. “Spin slowly. Let me see all of it.”

He obeyed. Each movement pulled the lace tighter against the cage, the plug shifting inside him. He heard the soft sound of her hand between her thighs, just once.

“Good,” she whispered. “Now the fishnet bodysuit.”

He peeled off the thong and pulled the netted fabric over his legs, up over his hips, threading his arms through the sleeves. It clung to him, showing everything and hiding nothing.

She uncrossed her legs and slid two fingers into her mouth, wetting them, then returned them between her thighs. “You’re such a joke,” she said. “And I love watching you become one.”

He showed her the black leather thong with the silver chains next. When he strapped it on, the chains jangled with every move.

She licked her lips. “Turn and show me how your plug fills that leather.”

He bent slightly. The belt creaked. The plug pulsed.

“Wiggle.”

He did.

She reached between her legs and groaned. “You’re so fucking disgusting. I’m going to cum before we even get to your favorite part.”

He held still as her fingers worked faster. The room filled with the wet sound of her building climax. She dropped the phone onto the bed and bucked her hips once, twice—then let out a sharp gasp.

“Fuck,” she said. “Not bad for a start. Outfit four.”

He held up the black leather chastity jockstrap, slipping it over the cage. The tight pouch made his restrained cock ache even more. She sipped her wine and chuckled.

“You can feel how pointless that is, can’t you? All locked up, and yet you still want to get hard.”

“I do, Mistress,” he admitted, breath shaky.

“Pitiful.”

The next was the black and pink thong. She made him model it on all fours.

She stood from the bed and walked behind him. “What are you, sissy?”

“Your toy, Mistress.”

She slapped his ass with her palm. “Wrong. Say it.”

“Your sissy toy, Mistress.”

“Better.”

Finally, she held up the red panties that said ‘SISSY’ across the back.

“These are your bedtime reward,” she said. “But only if you please me.”

She tossed him the locking pink collar and leash. “Put it on. And bring me the massage oil. On your knees.”

As he crawled forward, collared and leaking from the tip of his cage, she clipped the leash on and gave it a sharp tug.

“Time for your real work to begin.”

CHAPTER 4: THE BODY WORSHIP

The leash pulled tight in Small Dick Sissy’s mouth as he crawled, the locking collar snug against his throat. His knees were already sore, thighs red from the earlier spanking, but there was no room for discomfort in service. Not when Mistress Marie was watching.

She lay nude across the bed now, her skin kissed by candlelight, her body languid and expectant. She had removed her blouse and leather leggings, revealing the hourglass curve of her waist, her breasts relaxed and full, her thighs parted in silent command. One hand held the leash. The other held her wine.

“The oil,” she said, her voice honey and hunger.

Small Dick Sissy reached for the bottle on the bedside table and poured a ribbon of warm vanilla-scented oil into his palms. He began with her shoulders, kneeling above her, kneading slowly under the bones, watching the way her lips parted as she sighed.

“Harder,” she said.

He obeyed, digging his thumbs beneath the tension of her shoulder blades, working in long strokes down the ridge of her spine.

“That’s better. You might be good for something after all.”

He moved down to her legs. The soft curves of her calves, the strong, commanding length of her thighs. She moaned slightly as his oiled hands slid along the inside of her thigh.

“Don’t get brave, Sissy,” she whispered. “I’ll still ruin you.”

He leaned forward and kissed her ankle, reverent. She let him.

When he finished, she rolled to her back, her body shining under the flicker of firelight. Her nipples stiff, her sex already flushed and wet. She reached to the table and picked up a slim black candle.

“Wax time,” she said. “I want you to know what it means to serve under pain, too.”

She lit it and held it above his chest. A bead of hot wax dripped onto his skin.

He gasped.

Another landed on his thigh. Then his hip. Then the top of his cage.

He twitched.

She grinned. “Still think this is foreplay?”

He shook his head.

“Wrong answer.”

She dripped another long line of wax down his chest, then reached for the Domi wand. She pressed it to the bottom of his cage. The vibration shook through the metal.

He whimpered. His thighs trembled.

A single drop of clear fluid escaped the tip of his locked cock.

She laughed. “Look at that. You leak for me like a puppy.”

She pressed two fingers to the drop, scooped it, and held it to his lips.

“Open.”

He obeyed.

She pushed her fingers into his mouth. “Taste your need. That’s all you are.”

She brought the wand up again. Another wave of vibration pulsed through him. More leaking. More shame. Another drop smeared across his tongue.

“Don’t you dare cum,” she warned. “Not yet. I haven’t even begun.”

Then she picked up the gag, black leather with a ball as pink as his cage.

“Time for silence, bitch. You’re going into the chair.”

⸻

CHAPTER 5: THE RESTRAINT

The gag tasted like her power—leather and finality. The strap pulled tight behind his head, pressing the ball deeper into his mouth. His jaw already ached, but he didn’t complain. He wasn’t allowed to anymore.

The blindfold followed.

Darkness swallowed him.

He heard the buckle click, felt the cool of her fingers guiding him into the chair—the ritual chair. It was heavy, wood and steel, with arm straps, ankle cuffs, and a wide padded seat. The plug was still inside him, but she reached down and tugged it out with a wet pop.

He moaned through the gag.

“Quiet, bitch,” she snapped.

Then her voice lowered, sultry and cruel. “Let’s pick something better.”

He could hear her walk to the toy cabinet. Heard the soft rattle of dildos being picked up, laid down.

“You don’t get to see,” she whispered, breath brushing his ear. “You just get to feel.”

A moment later, the blunt, lubed head of a thick silicone dildo pressed against his entrance. She didn’t lube him again. She didn’t need to.

“Breathe in.”

He obeyed.

She pushed.

It slid in slow, cruel inches. Every bit of it forced him wider, fuller. His arms jerked against the restraints. The cage strained against the belt.

“There we go,” she purred. “Stuffed like a good toy.”

She attached the Gush to his cage. It buzzed gently—teasing, not enough. Then she slipped the Ferri into his thong. Then clicked the Hush remote. All three began vibrating.

He whimpered, trapped between pressure and pleasure.

“Let’s write something new.”

She took the marker and began again.

On his chest: “Loser.”
Above the cage: “Tiny Dick. Locked Forever.”
On his inner thighs: “Obey or Cry” and “Cum Eater.”

She paused.

“You’ll love what’s next.”

She took out her phone and opened her camera.

Click.
Click.

“You should see yourself,” she said. “You’re trembling, leaking, gagged and dripping. Want to cum so badly, don’t you?”

He groaned.

“Aww. Too bad.”

She walked away. He heard her undress. The soft clink of her earrings hitting the counter. The sound of the bath behind him—steam hissing, water sloshing.

She laughed softly to herself. “I’m going to cum in that bath, Sissy. You’re going to sit there in your own filth while I make myself scream.”

He writhed against the restraints.

“And maybe,” she whispered, “just maybe, I’ll come back and let you suck the dildo clean.”

Then she was gone.

And he was alone.

The buzzing. The plug. The darkness. The belt. The writing. The humiliation. It pulsed with each second.

And all he could do… was drip.

CHAPTER 6: THE BATH

The bathroom glowed with candlelight. Steam curled up from the full tub, scenting the room with jasmine and rose. The wineglass in Mistress Marie’s hand was nearly full. She dipped her toe into the water, then slid her body in slowly, luxuriating in the heat that embraced her naked curves.

She moaned softly—half from the warmth, half from the memory of what she’d just left behind.

Small Dick Sissy.
Plugged.
Gagged.
Blindfolded.
Buzzing and twitching in the chair like a pathetic sex puppet.

She closed her eyes and smiled.

The bathwater lapped softly against her breasts. Her nipples rose from the steam like pearls, the flickering light casting soft shadows across her chest and collarbones.

She reached for her phone. Opened her camera roll.

Scrolled past the photos of his trembling thighs, the writing on his flesh, the strained pink cage. She paused on one—his face red behind the gag, a trail of precum shining down the front of the belt like a tear. She sipped her wine and laughed aloud.

Then she opened the Lovense Domi remote app. Activated the wand from across the room.

Back in the bedroom, she could faintly hear the rise in Small Dick Sissy’s whimper through the wall.

“Oh, poor baby,” she whispered.

She slid the wand between her own legs, letting it rest just at the edge of her entrance. Her head tilted back. She parted her knees beneath the water.

“Let’s see which one of us cums first.”

The wand hummed against her, water splashing softly around her thighs as she rocked into it. One hand held the glass, the other slid beneath her ass, lifting her hips toward the pleasure.

She closed her eyes again, imagining him out there: helpless, edging, silenced.

Straining in his cage.
Fighting the belt.
Drooling past the gag.

“I wonder what he’d do to cum,” she whispered to herself. “I wonder if he even deserves it.”

A deep moan escaped her lips as she pressed the wand harder against her clit. Her toes curled. Her breath caught.

She pictured his face—flushed, shaking, thighs trembling from the vibrating plug. That useless little cock dribbling, denied, denied, denied.

She came with a quiet gasp, hips bucking beneath the water.

The ripples stilled. The candles flickered.

She wiped her lips and took another sip of wine.

“Time to go check on my little fucktoy.”

⸻

CHAPTER 7: THE UNLEASHING

When the blindfold came off, the light made Small Dick Sissy flinch. His jaw was stiff around the gag. His arms trembled in their bindings. Every nerve in his body buzzed from the overstimulation and silence.

Then he saw her.

She was radiant—her freshly bathed body glistening with oil, now wrapped in red leather lingerie that clung to her curves like armor. The material gleamed in the candlelight, hugging her waist, lifting her breasts, shining over her hips where the red leather strap-on was already buckled tight.

In her left hand: the leash. In her right: her phone, recording.

“You didn’t cum while I was gone, did you?” she asked, approaching.

He shook his head frantically.

She smirked. “Better not have. I’d make you eat it cold off the floor if you did.”

She released his wrists. The cuffs fell away one by one. His muscles screamed from the tension.

Then she unbuckled the gag and let it fall into his lap.

He gasped for breath.

She leaned close and whispered, “On your knees.”

He dropped to the floor, trembling, still plugged, the cage wet with sweat and precum. She walked around him slowly, letting the tip of the strap-on graze his cheek.

“Follow me.”

She walked backward into the center of the room and sat in a low chair, legs spread, the dildo resting between her thighs like a throne.

“Open your mouth, slut.”

He obeyed.

“Now suck it like it’s the only cock you’ve ever begged for.”

She pulled out her phone and began recording again.

He took it in slowly, lips stretched, tongue wrapping around the shaft. She guided his head by the leash, moaning theatrically.

“Oh, you’ve done this before,” she taunted. “Look at you. Eyes watering. Choking just a little. You love this, don’t you?”

He moaned around the shaft.

She angled the camera closer.

“Say ‘thank you’ with your eyes, bitch.”

He looked up, and she laughed.

“Perfect. You’re going to be famous.”

She made him deepthroat the strap until spit dripped from his chin. Then she unhooked the leash, stood, and walked toward the mirror.

“On all fours. To the mirror. Now.”

He obeyed.

She pressed the dildo against his lips again, and he sucked it, tasting himself from earlier—then she bent him forward, aligning her strap-on with his ass.

“You’re going to take this in front of the mirror, and you’re going to watch.”

She pushed.

He cried out as it slid in, the second penetration of the night, his hole already sore from the earlier toys.

She whispered, “Watch yourself get used. Watch yourself drool.”

He looked. His eyes met his own in the mirror. He saw the words written across his thighs. The leash still dangling from his collar. The red panties laid out on the bed, waiting.

And he saw her. Powerful. Smiling. In control.

He moaned.

“No cumming,” she hissed. “I’ll know if you do.”

She fucked him harder, her hips slapping against his ass, the strap-on buried to the hilt. She reached beneath him and flicked the Gush to full speed.

He screamed.

She growled. “You cum, you clean it. That’s the rule.”

He whimpered.

And somewhere inside, he knew he would.

CHAPTER 8: THE BREAKING POINT

The mirror didn’t lie.

Small Dick Sissy was on all fours, collar dangling, leash taut. His face was flushed, ass red from spanking, thighs trembling. His locked cock leaked helplessly beneath the belt, shame puddling below.

Behind him, Mistress Marie pounded into him with mechanical precision. The red leather strap-on gleamed with each thrust. She growled with each impact, her dominance saturating the room.

“Look at yourself,” she snarled. “Look at what I’ve turned you into.”

He obeyed. The mirror showed it all—his used hole, his trembling limbs, the writing on his skin: “Loser,” “Cum Eater,” “Obey or Cry.”

She reached under him, flicked the Gush to max.

His body twitched.

“Don’t you dare,” she hissed.

He whimpered.

Too late.

His body seized, and a pathetic orgasm overtook him—caged, locked, leaking uncontrollably onto the floor.

She pulled out with a wet slap.

“Disgusting,” she said.

She retrieved a silicone dildo and pressed it through the puddle of cum on the tile. Then held it to his lips.

“Clean it.”

He licked slowly. Thoroughly. His face burned.

She recorded it all.

“Look at that tongue. Just made a mess, and now you’re begging for more.”

She stepped back and peeled off the strap-on, tossing it to the floor with a wet slap. Then she crouched beside him and whispered, “You think that was your reward?”

He looked up, dazed.

She grinned. “Oh no, sissy. That was your preview.”

She tugged the leash. “Get back on the bed. Hands and knees.”

His eyes widened—but he obeyed.

“You’ll get your chance to taste me soon enough,” she said, climbing onto the bed behind him. “After I ruin your ass a second time.”

⸻

CHAPTER 9: THE REVEAL

Small Dick Sissy lay on the edge of the bed, trembling. His body was coated in a thin sheen of sweat, his thighs slick from effort, his cock throbbing and helpless in its pink metal prison. The cage was smeared with fresh precum—useless, denied, and locked as ever.

Mistress Marie towered over him, slowly circling the bed, phone in hand. Her red leather lingerie still clung to her body like a weapon. She had removed the strap-on, but the way she moved—slow, graceful, superior—reminded him that her power didn’t depend on toys.

“You know you didn’t actually cum, right?” she said, her voice low and cutting.

He swallowed hard.

“You leaked,” she said. “You squirmed. You spasmed. But this little thing…” she ran a finger down the top of the cage, “…didn’t get to finish.”

His cheeks burned. The ache between his legs was unbearable. The belt pressing against his hips felt tighter than ever.

She leaned close and whispered into his ear, “You’re still locked. Still denied. Still mine.”

She stepped back and raised her phone. A slideshow of photos filled the screen: him with his mouth wrapped around the strap-on. Him gagged and blindfolded in the chair. Him crawling in lingerie. Him licking up his own mess from the silicone toy.

She paused on the one that showed his face right after the “release”—mouth open, tongue wet, eyes distant with denial.

“This,” she said, tapping the screen, “is what denial looks like.”

She angled the phone toward him.

“And this?” She turned the camera on and aimed it at his still-trembling body. “This is what obedience looks like.”

He tried to close his legs, instinctively, as if that could hide the belt or the cage or his shame.

She slapped his thigh.

“No. Stay open. Stay still.”

He froze.

She took another photo. “Perfect.”

“You’re going to remember tonight every time you feel yourself start to leak,” she said, standing over him. “Every time your balls ache in that belt. Every time your cock twitches in its cage.”

She crouched down beside him and whispered, “You’ll never cum without permission again. And if you do…”

She opened a locked folder on her phone labeled: “Small Dick Sissy – Property”

Inside: dozens of photos. Video clips.

“I’ll send every single one to someone. And I won’t tell you who.”

She reached for the leash clipped to the front of his cage and tugged once, sharply.

“Now beg.”

He looked up, eyes pleading.

“Beg for permission not to cum.”

“Please, Mistress… please don’t let me cum… please keep me locked…”

She smiled. “Good boy.”

Then she stood and walked to the edge of the room, plugging her phone into the charger.

“I’m going to bed.”

He stayed on the mattress, hands behind his back, thighs spread, the cage pulsing, the denial ringing louder than orgasm ever could.

And in the dark, her final words:

“You are not allowed to cum. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not until I say the word.”

CHAPTER 10: THE COMPARISON

Small Dick Sissy lay curled on the floor beside the bed, his thighs still twitching from the vibrating plug inside him. The cage around his cock was wet with drool and sweat, the leash clipped tight to the front of it, forcing his spine into a bowed, animal posture.

Mistress Marie sat perched on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, sipping wine as she stared down at him with a look that was equal parts amusement and cold detachment.

“Look at you,” she said softly. “You’re pathetic.”

He flinched, but didn’t speak.

“Do you know what I was thinking about earlier—when I was in the bath, moaning, cumming into the steam?”

She didn’t wait for an answer.

“Not you.”

Her voice was syrup and venom.

“I was thinking about real men. Thick. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Men who could throw me onto this bed without asking. Men whose cocks stretch me open before they even touch me.”

She stood and walked slowly around him, her bare heels clicking on the floor. She picked up her phone again and flicked to her photo gallery.

“You want to see what I mean?”

He didn’t answer.

She grabbed his leash and yanked his face upward, thrusting the screen inches from his nose.

“There. That’s Liam. Six foot five. Played linebacker in college. You should see the way his cock fills my throat.”

Swipe.

“And that one’s Rico. Brazilian. Fucks like a god. Sends me videos of himself stroking that beautiful, uncut cock just for me.”

Swipe.

“And this one? I don’t even know his name. I met him at a party. Bent me over a hotel balcony and made me scream. You think I needed lube for him? No. I begged for more.”

She tossed the phone aside and crouched beside him.

“Meanwhile, I’ve got you.”

She ran her fingers along the edge of his cage, making it rattle gently.

“Locked. Plugged. Pink. Trembling.”

She leaned closer.

“You know what they have in common, those men? They don’t beg. They don’t whimper. They don’t leak like schoolgirls when I call them names. They dominate. They conquer.”

She stood again.

“You serve. You worship. You sniff panties and thank me for letting you lick the sweat off my thighs.”

She picked up the marker from the nightstand and pulled his head gently forward by the collar.

“I should tattoo it right here,” she mused, tapping his forehead. “PROPERTY OF REAL MEN’S MISTRESS.”

She paused, then smirked.

“But you know what?”

She crouched behind him and turned on the plug again—soft, steady vibration pulsing through his guts.

“I’m not done with you. Not yet.”

She leaned down and whispered into his ear, slow and cruel:

“Because you may be pathetic… but you’re mine.”

She licked the edge of his ear.

“And tonight, I’m going to make you cum like the sad, desperate sissy you are.”

She stood up again and pointed to the bed.

“On your back.”

And as he scrambled into position, trembling, leaking, grateful, the air grew hot again.

The red strap-on gleamed.

Her eyes lit with hunger.

And Mistress Marie smiled.

CHAPTER 11: THE SECOND TAKING

“On your back,” Mistress Marie commanded, her voice a low growl of authority, lust, and intention.

Small Dick Sissy obeyed without hesitation. His spine hit the mattress with a shiver, thighs parting instinctively, eyes locked on the ceiling in dazed anticipation. The vibrating plug inside him pulsed softly, already teasing him open from within. She had kept it buzzing just enough to keep him pliant, needy, compliant.

“Remove the plug.”

His hands trembled. The moment he touched it, he groaned—half pain, half addiction. It slid out with a slick pop, leaving him twitching and empty.

“Re-lube. I’m not doing all the work,” she said, walking to the foot of the bed with the steady, unhurried grace of a predator that knows her prey can’t escape.

He reached for the bottle with shaking fingers and obediently spread the lube over his hole. His breath hitched. He was sore. Wide. Used. And still, he needed more.

The strap-on she wore tonight was bigger. Red leather glinting in the candlelight. Thicker than the first. Slick from fresh oil. Her thighs flexed beneath its straps, muscles shifting under smooth, oiled skin.

“Cage off.”

He looked up in surprise.

Mistress Marie raised an eyebrow. “You want to disappoint me?”

“N-no, Mistress!”

He scrambled for the key, fumbling with the buckle of the belt, the tiny lock, the familiar creak of metal sliding from flesh. The instant his cock was free, it surged forward—already painfully erect, angry and leaking, desperate from hours of vibration and denial.

“Please, Mistress…” he gasped, barely able to form words. “Please let me cum inside you…”

She laughed. A full, rich, mocking sound.

“Begging before I’ve even fucked you?” she asked, mounting the edge of the bed. “You think you’ve earned it?”

“No, Mistress,” he moaned. “I… I just need you…”

“You need me,” she repeated, amused. “That’s the first honest thing you’ve said all night.”

She grabbed his thighs and pinned them wide. The slick head of the strap-on pressed against his open hole.

“You want to be inside me?” she whispered.

“Yes, Mistress… please…”

“Then I get to be inside you first.”

She pushed.

The toy filled him inch by inch. A slow invasion, deliberate and stretching. He moaned, head rolling back, fingers clenching the sheets. She didn’t stop until her hips met his, the strap-on buried inside him, the base grinding against his ass.

Then she began to fuck him.

Her pace was slow but brutal. Deep strokes that claimed his hole all over again. His cock twitched against his belly, leaking freely, untouched, helpless.

Her fingers wrapped around the base of his shaft. She stroked in rhythm with her thrusts, matching pressure with penetration.

“You want to cum?” she asked softly.

“Yes, Mistress. I want to cum inside you… please…”

She leaned down until her lips brushed his ear.

“Then make me cum first.”

She pulled out of him, slick and shining, and climbed up his body. She hovered above his cock, her folds dripping, the lips of her pussy glistening with arousal.

She took him in one smooth stroke.

The heat of her engulfed him.

He cried out beneath her.

Her hips rocked in practiced waves, her body a machine of ownership and pleasure. She watched his face with each roll of her hips, savoring every twitch of desperation.

“Do not cum,” she growled. “Not yet.”

His cock throbbed inside her.

“I said…” she leaned down, teeth grazing his lip, “…not yet.”

He nodded frantically. His body trembled beneath her. She clenched around him again, milking him with each motion.

Then her rhythm broke. Her breath caught.

Her thighs quivered around him.

She moaned—a real, shattering sound.

And then she came.

Her hips bucked. Her nails dug into his chest. Her walls gripped his cock in waves.

Only when her orgasm crested did she whisper, “Now.”

That one word shattered him.

He came with a guttural, broken cry. His cock pulsed inside her, thick ropes of cum spilling into her cunt, hotter than he remembered it could feel. His back arched. His vision blurred.

She slapped her hand over his mouth, laughing cruelly.

“Shut up, slut. You sound ridiculous.”

She rode him through it, grinding slowly until his orgasm faded into overstimulation. He whimpered beneath her, twitching from the intensity, his eyes glassy and wild.

When she lifted off him, her folds gleamed with a mix of his cum and hers.

She stared down at the mess between her thighs.

Then at him.

And she grinned.

CHAPTER 12: THE LOCKDOWN

Small Dick Sissy didn’t move. He couldn’t. His limbs were limp. His cock soft, twitching, leaking from the punishment of his climax. His face was still wet from her, his cheeks flushed from humiliation and heat.

Mistress Marie stood over him, calm and untouchable. Her body glistened from her orgasm. Her thighs slick. Her strap-on tossed aside like a used weapon.

She looked at him like one might regard a toy they’d thoroughly enjoyed—and now must decide what to do with.

Then she moved.

Silently. Deliberately.

To the drawer.

She pulled out the cage.

And the belt.

That sound—metal against wood—sent a spike of dread through him.

“No…” he whispered.

She turned.

“Did you just say no?”

He dropped his eyes. “I-I just… please… not yet, Mistress…”

She smirked. Cruel and slow. “Oh, you thought one orgasm earned you freedom?”

She tossed the cage onto the mattress with a solid clink. Then picked up the largest plug—the one that made him whimper just to look at.

“You’ll wear this,” she said, “until the battery dies.”

He didn’t protest.

“On your knees. Face the mirror. Spread yourself.”

He obeyed, arms shaking as he pulled his ass open.

She knelt behind him and pushed the plug into his still-open hole. It sank in with shocking ease.

She clicked the remote.

A deep, rhythmic hum began to pulse inside him immediately.

“Turn.”

He turned, leaking, panting.

She slid the ring over his balls, guided the cage over his tender cock, locked it in place, then snapped the belt tight around his waist.

“You’re already leaking again,” she murmured.

She wiped the precum with her fingertip and smeared it across his lips.

“Remember that taste.”

She reached into her drawer and pulled out the red sissy panties.

“SISSY” was stitched across the back in white, block letters.

“Step in.”

He obeyed.

She pulled them up, smooth and tight over the belt and cage.

Then came the collar.

Then the leash.

She clipped it to the front of the cage and pulled him down to the floor beside the bed.

“You sleep here.”

He nodded.

“No pillow. No blanket. Face down. Plug vibrating. Cage tight.”

He curled up as she instructed, arms beneath him, thighs parted, ass raised slightly.

She climbed into bed with a contented sigh.

And then her voice, soft in the dark:

“If you so much as touch yourself, I’ll post every photo with the caption: ‘This is what happens when my bitch gets ideas.’”

Small Dick Sissy didn’t move.

Another buzz from the plug.

He whimpered.

“Goodnight, slut.”