Sissy Maid Training …. Part 3

“Look at yourself,” Mistress Psyche commanded.

My eyes snapped up to the mirror. I saw my semi dressed self on my knees, uniform undone, breasts in a guest’s hands, another guest’s fingers delving into my  hot wet pussy  I saw my own mouth fall open, my eyes glaze with need.

BZZZT

Another shock, stronger this time, as the man pushed a thick finger slowly inside me. 

My back arched, a cry tearing from my throat. “I am grateful!” I blurted, the words tumbling out. “Grateful for the reminder of my… my place. My service!”

“Excellent.” Mistress rose in a swish of silk as her stiletto heels stalked with a clack click…  in hypnotic rhythm across the floor . 

She walked to a cabinet and withdrew a bundle of sleek, black material. It shimmered under the lights. “The first service is concluded. The second requires a more… appropriate uniform.”

It was the transparent latex catsuit. She let it unfurl, a second skin of glistening black. Tight , restrictive , divine. 

My breath caught in my chest in anticipation 

. “Mistress Psyche, I am grateful …”

“On your feet, slut.”

I stood, my legs unsteady. Mistress made me strip. The air aroused my naked skin. 

Then she began to work me into the tight, restrictive , sealing me in with a series of soft, precise zips. It compressed every curve, leaving my breasts outlined, my nipples protruding against the shiny material. It sealed over my pussy , leaving only my mouth and, as she turned me around, my rear exposed through a precise, open circle in the back.

I peek at my reflection . I look like a profoundly sexual doll. The toy inside me was a constant, humming presence against the latex.

Mistress produced a small, gleaming padlock. She threaded it through a ring at the top of the back zipper. “There. Now, your service can truly begin. On your knees. Let my guests see the gratitude you’ve learned.”

I sank back to the  floor, the latex tight and sensual. Caressing and compressing my skin with ever tiny move I made.

I was a living, breathing offering, sealed and presented. One of the guests  stood before me, undoing his trousers. His  grip firm on my hair, he slowly guides his hot hard cock into my hungry mouth through the gap in the latex where my mouth is. I can now only breathe through the hole for my nostrils.

The toy inside me hums, gentle , a constant, reminder  that I must be a good girl and do as instructed . That I must be attentive. That I must be the best sissy maid I can be. That I must be a good girl for Mistress . That I must be a good girl and please her guests…

 

His cock makes me gag. It is a delicious sensation . I try to focus on the rhythm, on the practiced motions of my tongue as it glides in and out of my mouth but the catsuit restricts and distracts me. The confinement is its own kind of arousal, a constant pressure that reminds me I am owned, packaged. I am an object of desire to be used and abused and above all I must please my mistress.

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