I can't deny who I am

It's been a while.

I still have phases where I revert to a vanilla life-style. I came back from holiday last summer and decided that I had to change things, give up my role as sissy maid, live a 'normal' life. I didn't feel comfortable in my submissive androgyne persona any more. I should accept that, as a mature 50-something year old, it was time to put away the canes, riding crops, high heels and breast forms.  I thought I could give it up and move on.

I cut off contact with Mme Caramel (my apologies to Her for my abrupt disappearance), stopped seeing my Philippina ladyboy friend, and started to spend more time with my family. I came close to throwing all my clothes and toys away: only last week I cleared out my chest of drawers and filled a plastic bag with stockings, tights, bras, garters and knickers. I left them in the hall to throw out.

Luckily, I never got round to it. The Saturday before last I was lying in bed, idly browsing the web as you do. Inevitably my thoughts turned to Tgirls. I found some shemale videos on xhamster, searched for sissy and watched maids sucking cock. The old desires welled up; perhaps 'swelled up' would be more accurate. I typed in the Adultwork URL and searched for TV Mistresses. I found Ms A and my life has changed.

I emailed Mistress to ask for an appointment. She responded with a questionnaire, which I've attached to the bottom of this post. We were both working last week and arranged a meeting for yesterday evening (Sunday).

It turned out to be one of the most intense sessions I've experienced. Ms A is highly intelligent, imaginative, empathetic and just sadistic enough. I was nervous on arriving at her studio but She immediately put me at my ease, caressing me sensuously and squeezing my nipples simultaneously. I relaxed completely and put myself completely in her power; I remember saying "you can do anything you want with me".

"You really shouldn't say that to a Domme", she replied as she wrapped a soft rope round my neck.

The highlight of the session was when she fucked me. I can't really understand why this was the first time I've allowed anyone to do this. My Danish Mistress, The Empress, used to take me with harness and dildo; I've had one rather unsuccessful fumble with a Greek friend. But I'd never had another cock inside me with my knees up around my ears, feeling it deep inside me. I loved it, dear reader.

It's been a long journey with many detours but I'm beginning to think that I may have arrived somewhere that I belong. I accept myself as a bisexual and, I realise properly for the first time, a transvestite who feels happiest in the company of other transvestites.

Who knows: that may change and I may move on again. But for the moment I want to explore this place; to learn to dress properly, to put on make-up, to find the courage to go out dressed.

Missy A's questionnaire and my answers:
Name: Francis(ca)
Age: 60
Height: around 5ft 10
Weight: around 12st
Shoe Size: 8 and a half
Where shaved?currently unshaven

How often do you play?:
Haven't played for a while; since I stopped seeing my last Mistress. At times, when I've been in D/s relationships, it's been very frequent

B: Experience
What is your level of experience?:
I'm quite experienced in BDSM and D/s but almost exclusively with Dommes. I have never been with a Master or a TV Mistress.

What was the most meaningful session you have ever experienced and why?:
I've had a number of meaningful sessions. I think they've been based on mutual respect between sub and Domme, a genuine empathy and emotional connection. They've also depended on trust: I have at times been able to put myself completely at the mercy of my Mistress without setting limits. On those occasions the interchange between dominant and submissive becomes a dance, instinctive call and response, where cries of pain (when experienced) almost become song.

Have you ever had a traumatic experience during a B/D session that you fear might re-surface during play? Specify:
I nearly fainted once when on a St Andrews Cross which was very frustrating because I had been looking forward to being helplessly suspended on it. I think I was just too tired to play.

How long have you had or known of your interests?
For 30 years.

What is your sexual orientation?
I'd say that I'm omnisexual, predominantly hetero with a strong attraction to TV/TS females.

.Are you... (rate each from 0=lowest to 9=highest)

___2___sadistic
___8___masochistic
___2___dominant
___8___submissive

Your level of interest in bondage:( just need one of these - a "X" by the relevant line to you
will do )
1. Total helplessness X
2. Light bondage X
3. Not my favourite thing
4. Outside my limits
5. Never tried it

Pain (what you are, or what you're looking for)
This depends on mood, the scene and the nature of the relationship with the Dominant

1. Pain slut - yes, occasionally.
2. Whipping, caning, paddling - yes.
3. Light paddling, sensual whipping, no marks - it's nice sometimes to be gently dominated by a loving Mistress
4. Punishment when necessary: if it's part of the contract with my Domme, then I would expect to be punished for transgressions. Punishment is different from erotic play and is not for the sub's pleasure.

I. Sex in a scene, for me is...
An important enhancement but not essential - delightful when permitted, it’s always granted at the discretion of the Domme.

Do you find it difficult to 

a) be erect for longish periods:
to be honest, as I get older it is more difficult to keep erections for a long time. But I find that viagra is a wonderful way of overcoming that problem.

b) achieve orgasm - no.

c) are you cut or uncut - uncut.

d) are u liable to want to finish the play after an orgasm?
That’s the male way very often but as a sub, I don't really think it's my choice.

e) would you consider yourself a 'premature ejaculator?
No but sometimes I come sooner than I would like.

Anal sex: a short note here from you would be helpful :
I want to be fucked. In a previous D/s relationship my Mistress regularly penetrated me using a harness and dildo. I've never had a real cock inside me: it's high on my list of longed-for experiences.

C: Interests, Preferences, and Limits
Roles I would like to play:
I'm open to anything, to be honest:
Personal Slave
Slut
Domestic/Sissy Maid

Haven't really done schoolroom, office, prison or 'acting' scenarios. I'd be up for it, though.

Roles you'd like Mistress to play:
Sometimes gentle and sensual, the loving dominant "this is for your own good",
Sometimes strict, awe-inspiring and unforgiving: depends on the Dom/me’s preference, scene
and mood.

Do you want to be feminised, if so what is your dress size
Not sure of my dress size: certainly happy to be feminised: I was for a while a lifestyle sissy maid for a ProDomme

D: List your limits here:
Scat/hard sports.
Blood.

E :What type of play have you experienced in the past? A short sentence after each item is all that is required though do wax lyrical about anything that provokes a strong like or dislike

rope bondage_love it
saran-wrap bondage__not sure what that is: sounds interesting
spreader bars__stretch me, please
cuffs- leather_essential, I'd have thought.
gags rubber____no experience; not fond of ball gags but then it's not my choice, is it,
Mistress?
gas mask___never tried

(YOUR!)Clitty/cock Torture :
slapping_yes
whipping__yes
flogging__yes
pegs____yes
cock rings, straps___yes
wax yes

I've experienced all these; more, please.

Nipple Torture:
Finger squeezing/kneading yes_
whipping__yes
pegs__yes
wax   yes
Blindfold yes
hoods/headgear___yes

Fetishes any of these?
Boots__ I like to kneel and kiss them
Latex___ no strong fetish but I like the look and feel
Leather___as above
smoking __no
high heels__love them
feet worship___ of course, if it pleases Mistress.
kissing- light or french or none at all? Depends on the mood/scene. I like French kissing.

Corporal Punishment
face slapping( think carefully?)__in the right mood/scene, perhaps. it's quite humiliating and can be shocking.
spanking OTK (over the knee!) __love it.
leather paddles__yes
riding crops yes
canes eek....yes, i have a love/hate relationship with canes. They're essential: the look, sound and feel of them is intrinsic to a D/s scene.

G:Medical                  
water sports_not a huge enthusiast but will submit if required as part of a scene.
anal play-butt plugs - yes, yes.
anal play /finger treatments: A previous Mistress loved to insert her fingers.
vibrators -penetrated__yes.

Body Worship:
can manage extended periods of:
(MY!) clitty/cock worship _Possibly my favourite activity
leg and thigh worship __My honour to serve in this way
Rimming__Yes, Ma'am

Serving Madame Caramel: Part 2

I become 'domestic' for the first time

Clutching a yellow shoulder bag containing rubber hood, collar and CB-6000, I listened carefully while Madame Caramel told me what she expected. We were making slow progress through heavy traffic in south London, on our way to Red Spot Studios.

“This shoot is about Me. I am the focus, not you. When we arrive, I want you to lay out my clothes carefully, to help me with my shoes and anything else I may need. At other times, you will kneel in the corner and wait until you’re told what to do. You’re there to be used in whatever way Mistress Eleise or I need for the camera”.

I felt myself blushing slightly: the minicab driver could hear everything that was said. Madame had glanced at him and spoken sotto voce when She first broached kinky topics but now She didn’t seem to care what he heard.

“Did you bring your cage?”

I squirmed. “Yes, Ma’am”

“Well, I don’t want you getting an erection when I put it on, do you understand? I don’t have time to waste”

My cock was already hard. I tried to compress it with the hand that was under my yellow bag but that just made it worse. I could only hope that when the moment arrived, with other people in the studio, I would find the situation more mundane and detumesce accordingly. If it remained stubbornly erect, not only would I be humiliated and embarrassed as Madame tried to squeeze me into the sheath of transparent plastic, but I also ran the risk of annoying Her for the second time that day. I was very anxious to avoid incurring her wrath again: I wanted to please.

Madame Caramel was taking something of a risk in inviting me, almost a complete stranger, to participate in the day’s shoot for Femme Fatale Films. I was desperate, not just to be a good slave (obedient, attentive, anticipating Her needs and making no demands) but to perform well in the scenes.

I had seen an email in which Mistress Eleise had said that She would like to re-create the artwork of Namio Harukawa  so I knew that I would be spending much of the afternoon with my face pinned under Madame Caramel’s voluptuous buttocks. Apart from that, (which I was looking forward to enormously), I didn’t know what to expect. When I’d asked what She had in mind, Madame had told me that it was better if I didn’t know. Would there be pain? Would I be awkward and clumsy on camera?

I checked the navigation app on my phone: we would arrive at the studio in 8 minutes. I wasn’t sure whether I was feeling excited anticipation or nervous dread: whatever it was, the adrenaline was pumping.

………….

“Make sure the seams are straight and don’t you dare ladder them”. I was kneeling at Madame’s feet in the dressing rooms of Red Spot Studios. It was the first time I had seen Her in anything but street clothes and I was beginning to understand what BBW can mean. Madame is a beauty of Rubensesque proportions: curvaceous, powerful and strong.

“But I’m not soft,” she said while I carefully rolled her stockings up her legs.

“Feel”

My breathing was shallow and fast as I slowly reached up and touched the firm brown flesh of Madame’s thigh: I felt muscle, not fat. My deepening sense of submission was reinforced as I realized that, psychological domination aside, She was quite capable of overpowering me physically.  As I fumbled with the stockings, my hands were impatiently brushed aside.

“If you are to serve me permanently, you will have to do better than that. Get  undressed and kneel in the corner. Don’t get in the way”

Very conscious of my persistent erection, I kept still and watched as Madame Caramel sat on a high stool in front of mirrors surrounded by light bulbs while Mistress Eleise of Femme Fatale Films applied make up in preparation for the shoot. I might as well have been part of the furniture for all the attention they paid me. My role was clear to be of service when required, otherwise to be invisible. I did my best to fulfill it.

It is often these in these quiet moments when there is no obvious domination, no verbal or physical interaction, that I am most conscious of joy in submission. The two Dommes chatted about make-up, maids and other matters as if I was not in the room. I felt completely at ease, content that my only responsibility was to do as I was told.

“Come here and bring your cage with you”. 


I picked up the CB6000 and its middle-sized securing ring.  My cock had wilted a little under the scathing gaze of the two Dommes but it was still a struggle to squeeze on the transparent case and fix it on to the three white stalks which locked it into place. I handed Madame the padlock.  I’d never been in chastity while shaved: if you are going to be denied access to your cock, the experience is greatly improved by not getting hairs trapped in hinges or snagged elsewhere in the device.

We were both ready: Madame elegant in black seethrough dress and corset, Her slave naked except for his cage. I picked up my rubber hood and followed Her into the studio.

We enacted three scenes. The first, for Femme Fatale, involved facesitting.

I drowned in Madame’s voluptuous backside, slipping between ecstasy as my whole face was enveloped between the capacious cheeks of Her ass, and moments of panic as I reached the limit of my capacity to hold my breath. With Madame astride my head, I was trapped: even if I had wanted to, I could not have thrown her off,  I writhed, slapped my hands and beat my feet on the floor until She lifted for a moment allowing me a few seconds to gasp for air and then settling her weight on me again. If you do watch the film, you will see that I was completely at Her mercy: had she wanted to suffocate me, there was nothing that I could have done.

If you want to know what happened next, you can see for yourself at Femme Fatale Films - search for 'In The Zone"

The other two scenes were for Madame Caramel’s own site. In the first of these, a scenario in which I played an incompetent servant punished for failing to clean the floor of Her boudoir properly, I acquired a name that has subsequently become a continuing fixture.

“What shall I call you? Something which describes your status as a slave….I know: ‘domestic’”.

And ‘domestic’ I have remained: it’s stayed with me longer than the nick on my cock inflicted when Madame kicked me as I was removing the offending wax  with my mouth.

To my surprise and delight, Madame Caramel permitted me to hold her hand in the cab back to Hoxton.

“Yes, domestic,” She said. “I think we’ll get on very well”.

Serving Madame Caramel Pt 1

I could barely believe what I was doing. Four days previously I'd been idly browsing fetish sites on a wet Sunday morning, now I was taking a day off work to play the part of a slave in a FemDom movie with a Mistress I had met only once.

For the second time that week I was on the 149 bus bearing breakfast: a carton of Tropicana (smooth with no bits) and croissants. Madame Caramel had asked for ham and cheese but I couldn't find any on Church Street. Faced with the choice of either failing to deliver what She had ordered or being late for my 9:15 appointment, I'd bought strawberries in the hope of appeasing and pleasing Her.

It hadn't been my most productive few days at work; I'd barely been able to think about anything else since my interview. Apart from trying to imagine how it would be to recreate the artwork of Namio Harukawa under the majestic frame of Madame Caramel, I'd been preoccupied with complying with Her instruction to shave - completely. Sitting nervous on the bus, it felt strange (and slightly erotic) to be wearing trousers over legs now naked as a plucked chicken.

I arrived at Her apartment in good time and, to my relief although She asked about the ham and cheese croissant, She did not seem too annoyed at my failure to deliver it. Instead after serving breakfast, Madame Caramel permitted me to worship her feet for the first time.

Morning Service

It's hard to explain the intensity of the excitement and joy, the blissful sense of completion I feel kneeling before a powerful Woman, slowly pressing my lips to shoe leather or, if I'm lucky, to skin. When I first came out to myself as kinky, this kind of role play was just that: a performance. Over time it has become real and heartfelt, 'the outward sign of an inward state' as the Catholics say. This fundamental position of the slave has become more than external expression of submission: it's a gateway to joyful, willing immersion in the service of a Goddess.

Several hours later, on our way back from the studio I was to tell Madame Caramel: "You owned me from the moment You told me to kiss your feet".

Unfortunately there was no time to extend my descent into subspace. Ms Caramel had a schedule and I had been summoned early to be useful, not to indulge myself. Guests were about to arrive from Canada at her other apartment, the Hoxton Dungeon Suite, and She had an appointment with a client at around the same time. A receptionist was needed for the visitors. After I'd tidied her lounge, done the washing up and helped Her on with her shoes, we set out to walk the short distance to the dungeon. Mistress lead the way while I followed a few paces behind, carrying Her jacket.

The dungeon was a revelation: a luxurious bedroom, kitchen and bathroom complemented two contrasting studios equipped with every conceivable instrument of discipline, torture and delight. I tried not to reveal my curiosity and excitement as I was given my instructions. I was to wait for Mistress Michelle and her boy to arrive, greet them politely, help with their luggage and show them round. Mistress left me her phone in case they called for directions. I put on my collar, hung my jacket and Hers in the hall cupboard and started to explore discreetly.

I had barely entered the main dungeon room when I heard a taxi pull up outside, followed by negotiations with the driver and a knock on the door.

If Mistress Michelle was surprised to find me there, she did not show it. I explained Madame Caramel’s absence while helping the boy (in his mid forties, bespectacled and bearded) with what seemed like an endless stream of bags. While he started to unpack, I made Mistress a coffee, we talked about Toronto, where She lived and Her plans for a week in London. She was very happy with what she had found in the apartment.

“You can’t really tell from what you see on the internet”, she said. “But this place is great. Why stay in a hotel when you can be somewhere you can have so much more fun?” She cast an imperious glance at her boy and smiled.

Realising that I was now superfluous, I wished them a pleasant stay and left, remembering to take Madame Caramel’s phone with me. I decided to walk back towards Her other flat and wait by the main entrance; if She had a client I didn’t want to disturb her. That was my second mistake. I had yet to realize my first.

After waiting for half an hour Madame’s Blackberry rang. I saw that the incoming call was from an American number and answered it.

“Francis, where are you?” Somehow I'd missed her.

I explained and was told to head back to the dungeon quickly. Before I reached it, I met Madame coming the other way. She wasn't happy. She was now behind schedule and walking at a very brisk pace. As we headed up the stairs of her apartment block, she turned to me.

“Where’s my jacket?”

Oh shit.

I felt a stab of anxiety. Things had been going so well. I thought I’d been making a favourable impression. 

Now this.

“Er…I left it at the dungeon, Ma’am”

There was a slight break in Her stride; then an ominous silence. We turned a corner and arrived at her front door. She went to the living room and sat in a tall chair.

“Francis, come here.” Her voice was calm but icy; she pointed at the floor by her feet and I knelt.

“Closer”. Head bowed, I shuffled forward.

“Look at me”.

She took my chin firmly in her left hand, lifted my face and slapped me. Hard.

 I felt tears pricking but held them back.

“If you are to be of any use to me, learn to look after my things” Another stinging blow.

She didn’t need to say anything more by way of chastisement; Her look was enough.

“Now go upstairs and fetch the suitcase on my bed, we’re late. I don’t think I’ll risk another jacket. You’ll probably lose it.”

A few minutes later, ashamed and seething with annoyance at myself for my stupidity, I followed Madame downstairs to wait for a taxi.

We were on our way to Red Spot Studios and my initiation as Madame Caramel’s slave for Femme Fatale Films.

To be continued

Meeting Madame Caramel

Things have got interesting in the past few days.

Last Saturday morning I was idly browsing fetish sites pursuing my two primary interests at the moment: crossdressing and femdom when I found something that looked very interesting: "Dommes Gone Wild". Well...I haven't been to a club or a party for quite a while (to be honest, I haven't done anything much actively to indulge my inner pervert for a few months), so I thought I'd write and make an application to participate.

To my surprise I had a reply from Madame Caramel in just a few minutes. After we'd exchanged emails for half an hour, I found myself getting dressed and leaving the house to go for an interview in Her flat in Hoxton, pausing only to pick up bring the orange juice and croissants that I'd been instructed to bring.

I was very nervous as I climbed the stairs to Her apartment and admitted to Her living room. Madame is a strong, imposing, feminine presence and my immediate instinct was to kneel at Her feet but I knew it would have been presumptuous to do so.  I was sent to the kitchen to find a plate and a glass for the juice and pastries. After I had served them, I was permitted to sit and offered a cup of tea. And then we talked for nearly three hours.

Madame was warm, gracious and understanding, I found myself longing to serve her in whatever way I could and, before I left, she gave me the opportunity. Just a little domestic service, shopping and washing up, but it was a start.

The exciting thing is that not only had I been accepted for Dommes Gone Wild but Madame invited me to be her plaything in a film shoot with Femme Fatale Films later this week. It would mean missing a day's work but I didn't hesitate in accepting: I knew I would regret it for ever if I let the opportunity pass.

The next day Madame sent me more information about the shoot. The scene for Femme Fatale will involve clothed face sitting and body worship, inspired by the art of Namio Harukawa. There were also some very clear instructions for me:

"Slaves in my presence are completely naked and collared fully shaved! Bring a rubber hood and ID"

It's a long time since I've removed all my body hair. The last time was years ago, early in my journey into kink: when I was still married I'd spent a night and a day being feminised at Mrs Silk's. I'd made a complete mess of shaving my legs for the first time, bleeding all over her bathroom and subsequently my stockings. It was very embarrassing.

I was determined to get it right this time, so yesterday I went to Boots at lunchtime and bought a 'Venus' lady's razor, enough wax strips to pluck a polar bear, a jar of Veet oriental wax and new blades for my own shaver. Hard to concentrate on my meetings in the afternoon: I just wanted to get home and  depilate.

Eventually I got away. As soon as my front door closed behind me, I got naked and set to work with the wax strips: not only did they seem remarkably effective but the ripping sensation as they came off was a thrill for my inner painslut.

After a while I retired to the bathroom and went to work with my razors. I loved slathering my cock and balls with lather and then running the blade over them.

I think I'm ready. I hope Madame will find the result acceptable:

"Ready for my close up, Mr De Mille"

Learning the hard way

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