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The Arrival
#1
This story has been inspired by a particular POV video of a Mistress and her naked and very well-endowed submissive. 

She knew how to use my weaknesses to manipulate me, that’s for sure.  Had been doing it for weeks, so I could hardly be surprised with her manoeuvrings now.  And I could scarcely claim to be the innocent victim, either.  You can’t be, not when you decide to embrace ….no, dive into…your true submissive self.       

‘Who’s a good little sissy then?’ she asked, coo-ingly.

I could hardly answer, not when I had a ball of wool in my mouth.

She slid the fluffy knitted pink bonnet over my head, tying its pink ribbons together in a big bow under my chin.  ‘Aww, so cute, so very, very cute.’  She stepped to one side.  

‘Do you think he’s cute, Harry?’  Harry stood a foot or two behind me - he could look down on me and across at my reflection in the mirror on the wall in front of me.

‘Very, Mistress.’  I heard the disdain in his tone, unsurprisingly.  In the mirror I could see Harry’s big naked, hairy body over my shoulder.  I couldn’t avoid his cock.  It looked big, even semi-erect.  Uncircumcised.  He was grinning. 

Mistress lifted the huge collar of my sweater up, enveloping my face in its soft, fluffy textures.  I breathed its aroma in, took fleeting pleasure in its gossamer softness as I felt the heavy, thick leather collar go around my neck.  She buckled it up, tight, but not too tight.  The sweater’s collar was rolled back down.  ‘Slutty sweater sissies love being trapped in a fluffy heavenly hell-of-their-own making,’ she laughed. 

She was right, of course, up to a point, anyway.  I desperately wanted to scratch my arms, my back, my shoulders, in fact all over for Mistress had dressed me in the scratchiest sweater imaginable.  Mohair, maddeningly scratchy, mohair.  But I couldn’t do anything about it; my mitt-enclosed hands - in a fluffy pink wool to match the pink of the sweater and bonnet - were bound to a thick-knitted belt around my waist.  And yes, it too was in pink.     
   
Mistress too was dressed in a sweater, a loose-necked turtleneck in the finest angora, a rich burgundy colour that you could lose yourself in if you stared at it long enough.  And she knew I liked staring into her sweaters. 

‘Stand up sammie sweater sissy.’  She liked alliteration – yesterday she told me this was my new name, for ever more.  She lifted the hem of my sweater and rolled it over the knitted waist belt.  ‘Bend over and show Harry your little sissy rear.’   I did as directed. She lent in and spread my cheeks. 

‘Harry is a renowned faggot breaker.  I’m soon giving your sissy hole to him.  Do you like the look of this tight little sissy hole, Harry?’

‘Oh, I do, Mistress, I want to ram my beef down that hole as soon as you let me, dear Mistress.’ 

‘Not long, Harry, not long, I assure you.  But first we have another hole to bust, hey Harry?’

‘Oh yes, Mistress, thank you Mistress.  I love cracking open a virgin-mouth for you Mistress.’

'I know you do, Harry, and you do it so well.’  She slapped my rear. ‘Up.’

In the mirror I watched Harry’s cock rising.  Oh god, I had no idea…

She touched Harry’s cock and started rubbing it - oh…it was huge, a huge, meaty cock, at least 9 inches long and thick, very thick - I doubted my fingers could meet around it.   Nothing in all the dildo training she had put me through in recent weeks had prepared me for such a specimen of real manhood.  Surely not… 

Mistress lent into my right ear.  ‘It’s a special virgin mouth-busting cock, just for you.’ 

She took the key from around her neck.  ‘Let’s see what your weeny thing looks like side by side!’ she said mischievously.  She unlocked the tight-fitting cage around my cock – ooops, sorry, my sissy clitty, as she said I was always to call it.  My clitty - having been stuck in a 1 ½ inch long cage for the last month, it did look forlorn and terribly small. 

‘Stand in front of Harry.’ I moved over.    

I watched her as she slipped on a pair of fluffy angora gloves, white.  One hand went to Harry’s cock, the other on mine…ooops, sorry, my sissy clitty.   She gently played over my clitty, the softness of the glove having its effect as I stared at her gorgeous, sweater-enclosed form and her soft-enveloping hand.  ‘Look at that, clitty’s grown!’  She laughed. ‘But not by much!’ Both true. 

‘Look at that sammie sweater sissy, look at how teeny your clitty is against Harry’s M-o-n-s-t-e-r COCK!!!’ 

I blushed - it was quite a contrast, what with my fully-erect 3 ½ inches and tiny girth opposite his engorged giant. 

‘Oh sweetie sammie sweater sissy…I am doing you such a big favour!  Now you can give up any notions of masculinity that you may have once stressed over.  Nothing more to worry about.  Aren't you the lucky sissy?'    

I blushed again but nodded.  She was right, of course, I’d been ashamed for years at my lack of masculinity, knew I would never really be able to satisfy a woman with my teeny excuse for a cock. Throw in my thing for liking feminine underwear and a fetish for fluffy femme woollen sweaters and the like…well…Mistress picked my sissy nature instantly, unravelled it and put it all together again, presenting me with my true self.  
    
‘Look how hard you are, sammie!  My, you do love a good dollop of fluffy angora wrapped around your little clitty!’  That laugh again, mocking me.  She pulled me forward by my clitty, lining my midget member up against Harry’s.   

‘I think it’s time now you thanked Harry for having a cock that helps define how ridiculous yours truly is.  Harry’s saving you from yourself - he’s here to help you embrace your real self, a self dedicated to making real men, with real cocks, feel satisfied, and real women happy they never have to put up with such small-cock loosers like you.’  Ouch, that stung.  I blushed.  She placed her hand on my head. 

‘Down on your knees now, sammie sweater sissy.  You know you need to…you know now, you want to…’

Harry’s cock was quivering a few inches in front of my face, a meat mountain I never knew could exist.  How the hell…

Mistress’ hand came off Harry’s cock and pulled the wool ball out my mouth.  I needed to swallow - lucky the wool had stimulated so much moisture. 

I could feel my clitty shrivelling, at first because the rubbing had ended, but now, with the realisation of what was in front of me, physically and literally. 

‘Utter submission and service is the key to your future happiness, my sweater sissy.  That and lots of cocks to suck - real men’s cocks…you’ll make them happy, and make yourself useful and productive and yes, happy, after a fashion, in your own peculiar way.  And you’ll be dressed in sweaters all day, every day.  Doesn’t that sound perfect, sammie sweater sissy?’

His cock was soaked in pre-cum, its head throbbing, while Mistress’ soft, gloved hand moved over the beast, the soft allure coaxing me on, transfixing me…angora…ahhh…

‘Yes Mistress,’ I answered meekly. 

With her other hand she pushed my head forward.  ‘Open wide sissy, your future is now here…’  
Know thy self, sissy.  Don't whine, don't pine, learn to expand your mind.   
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#2
Thanks that’s an exquisitely detailed story.
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#3
Thanks, sissysoft, for a wonderfully imagined and beautifully written story. What I found really interesting about it is that hardly any of the individual details are things that would normally excite me, but the story as a whole certainly did. I think it's the overall scene of the Mistress in charge and enjoying herself teasing the sissy sub with his fetishes that caused a tent in my panties.
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#4
One wonders what the course of events that has led him to such a predicament may have been. Either way he is well and truly at the mercy of his mistress who has taken full advantage of the situation.  Big Grin
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#5
Thanks for your comments afp, Bhuna 71 and Girygirl. Always appreciate getting comments and observations from readers.
Know thy self, sissy.  Don't whine, don't pine, learn to expand your mind.   
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