Skip to toolbar

Reply To: Career counseling for Michelle Bubbles.

#141347
Michelle Bubbles
Participant

(OOC: To everyone following, me and Master decided to ‘retcon’ my last post, as I was not satisfied with the direction my character had taken. Just think of my last post as what Michelle wanted you to think she was thinking, not what she was ACTUALLY thinking :P)

 

I melt into his hands, mewling at his kiss on my neck, and then kissing him back with a passion as he takes my lips. He calls me by name, for what feels like the first time, and a beaming smile appears on my face, starting to shoo away the lingering signs of conflict and confused acceptance. He starts to undress me as I sigh out a breathless, adoring response.

 

“I’m glad… I could make you happy… Master… aahhnnn…”

 

i melt again in another kiss, draping my arms around his neck, daintily and delicately, the perfect sissy princess in the arms of her prince charming now. To the point where I make a soft whimper of protest as he pushes me away to remove the basque, biting my lip as all I have left is grinding against his lap, shivering when his hands stroke my arms down their length.

 

I listen intently when he starts talking about my tattoo, and I beam with happiness at the proposal.

 

“Oh! I would love it, Master! What would you replace it with?”

 

I ask, and the answer doesn’t wait. I keep a sweet smile on my lips as once again he pulls me close, a little sigh of happiness at being once again so close escaping my lips. While we choose my new tattoos, I keep rubbing myself against him, stealing little kisses at his neck, feeling his coarse face against my soft skin, running my hands over his hard bosy, like a wanton, slutty, but also love smitten girl with her daddy/lover/Master. When he chooses the tattoo designs, I gasp in elated happiness as he explains what their significance would be.

 

“Yes Master! I would love these, both of them! Where do you think they would look best? I would say the hand on my shoulder blade, over my heart… and the other one… how big should it be? I would say on my upper back if it’s big, maybe on my shoulder blade if you would prefer it small!”

 

I gush, rubbing my now basically naked body against him, using my training without any sign of reservation or hesitation like a good, broken, fully trained sissy.

 

…I should get an oscar for this, really.

———————————————–

8:32 AM – 12 hours and 14 minutes earlier

 

I hurry along in the corridors of the academy for my next class, looking like any other sissy, almost late and swaying on her sky high heels to beat the unfair and strict clock. But my eyes dart this way and that, looking for my mark… and I finally find it. when going from dancing class to oral sciences, we need to go through hallway 4 on the third floor, and on a thursday morning (like today) the security room in that hallway is monitored by none other than Riccardo, the italian guard that took a particular liking to me. And is a member of guards block D3, which gets serviced by sissies on wednesday evening. The chinstraped brute is enjoying the view of all the breathless, scantily clad schoolgirls flitting this way and that, extending a hand to slap an ass or grope a tit of whoever gets too close, leaning against the wall besides the locked door of the security room. There are many throughtout the M&R facilities, acting like branching veins to collect the capillary footage of all the hidden cameras all over the place, filled with computer that record and compress it before sending it to archive with appropriate indexing and regularly wiping themslevs of old footage to make room for new. I don’t know when that happens, and if it happened between yesterday and today all of this, if it even works, will be for nothing. I am taking a huge risk, but it is a calculated one… and I NEED to know.

 

I subtly change my direction, making sure I would walk past Riccardo while in range. As I pass by him, my eyes flutter up to him for a brief instant, widening in recognition and fear as I suddenly hurry my step to try and escape his grasp. Only to feel his big, meaty hand wrap around my bicep, eliciting a helpless squeal from my lips.

 

“Well well well! Are you just gonna walk by without saying hello to your favorite guard, principessa? I am hurt, honestly…”

 

Hook.

 

I turn to him with a pleading look, my knees trembling together.

 

“Oh, uhm, s-sorry Mister Riccardo, h-hello! I am so, so sorry I can’t stay… I need to get to class! You know I would love to f-feel your big hard cock… I just don’t have time!”

 

I let a small sigh of relief and even a little smirk float to my lips, with a tiny hint of smugness to it. Riccardo’s eyes immediately harden, his grip on my arms becoming painful. My expression is replaced by one of wide eyed fear and helplessness, that I know turns him on the most. He pulls on my arm to make me get close, my heels clicking on the floor as I stumble not to fall, he lifts my arm to force my face close to him, almost lifting me effortlessly, my tiny schoolgirl uniform

 

“You little insolent slut… you think I don’t know what you’re doing? Just because you have to get to class you think you’re safe and that I won’t have my way with you?!”

 

Line.

 

My large, plump lips tremble and I shiver in place like a terrified bunny. With an enormous show of willpower, hoever, I swallow, and my expression hardens a little bit, I swallow.

 

“W-well… Sir… you would get reprimanded too if I was late… and, uhm… there’s cameras… so…”

 

I whisper, as if it takes all my willpower to defy him like this. His stupid face boggles for a moment, as a sissy basically just told him ‘yes, you won’t have your way with me’. Of course, all he heard was ‘I dare you to fuck me right now’. A challenge, from a sissy. Something he cannot let pass, it would mean let the sissy win. He furrows his brow, deep in thought. The sissy of course is right, if he caused her to be late, now that she was protected by that killjoy Simon Bone, well every punishment had to be ‘fair’ now, ugh. Which would mean with this sissy, he would indeed get reprimanded if she was late because of him. That’s why he hated the idea, sissies shouldn’t be treated fairly! And now this sissy had challneged him. And she would go unpunished?!

 

I watch him furrow his brow, deep in thought. For a second I start fearing he is too dumb and would never figure it out, but finally his eyes go to the door to the security room, one of the few places without cameras in the whole corporation. He smiles an evil smile, as what is probably the brightest idea his gorilla brain conceived all week hits him.

 

“Hmmm… but what if it was your word against mine, troia?”

 

He leans in to whisper in my ear, while fishing out a remote and pressing a few buttons, deactivating the zone control on the sissylink that would start shocking me with high level pain the second I step into an unauthorized area. Then, his eyes go to the corner in the ceiling, to the camera slowly swiveling on its arm, while I whimper pitifully, still held painfully. As soon as it points away from us, he opens the door to the security room and throws me inside, following suit and closing the door behind him.

 

And sinker.

 

 

15 minutes and a half later, I quickly fix my hair as I districate myself from his snoring, exhausted body. The taste of cum in my mouth and my ass still tingling from the hard fucking he gave me, I managed the hardest part: make sure he fucks me so hard he falls asleep right after. Well, not hard to do… he is used to fucking a sissy every night before bed, yesterday he stayed up late as his block was serviced, and he took TOO MUCH of a liking to me. I know ALL his buttons, and it was easy to make him fuck me with all his strength, exhausting himself even more. No, the hard part was to force myself to do it. Shivering with shame, I distract myself with what I am here for. I quickly get on the computer, and manage to navigate the stored video recordings to yesterday. Thank God they haven’t been purged yet. I find the room where Mister Simon gave me my first ‘private lesson’, just yesterday, and I start looking for the appropriate time stamp.

 

Something inside me makes me feel ashamed. I should trust Mister Simon, he is the best dominant I ever met, the one who treats me the most like a person, although a feminine, slutty, sexual person. And this is how I repay him? But my mind is fixed to that moment during yesterday night… laying in bed… when I looked at the moonlight coming in at an angle through the curtains. Then opening my eyes, without remembering how I closed them. And the moonlight at a steeper angle. And from that moment, a little voice deep in my head screaming that something isn’t right, not quite smothered by the louder one telling me how silly that tiny voice is, I am probably just wrong, I should trust Mister Simon.

 

But I NEED to know.

 

And as I watch the video feed I find the appropriate time. I speed up the footage, I can’t take too long. I watch myself enter in the long dress, showing off and stripping for him. I watch him evaluate me and the lights turn on. I watch myself go get ready in the bathroom. I watch him lay me on the bed and play with me. I watch him make me clean him with my tongue. I watch hi ìm allow me to sleep with him. I watch myself get in the provided nightwear and lay down in the bed: I watch him get in bed too, as the big spoon. Is top fast forwarding and play the video, keeping the volume as low as possible, leaning forward as I hear his recorded voice, my eyes widening, hearing words that resonate deep with me and feel oh so familiar.

 

“And your true self, you discover as Mister Simon lays you on the bed and turns to lock the door, keeping you in and those who’d like to hurt you out, is a pretty … no, a beautiful … girl named Michelle.

“This might surprise you, but it’s okay. You’ve known all along who you really are, haven’t you. And it’s so much better to be a beautiful, submissive sissy girl, desired by many, than to be a vaguely effeminate, mostly unattractive ‘male’ who will never really be a man … or desired by anyone, isn’t it.

“Mister Simon lies on the bed behind you. You can feel his hands all over you, and his erection between your bum cheeks … and it feels good, doesn’t it. Feels good to be desired by a man. Any man, because you know now that you’re a submissive sissy girl, but especially a man you trust so completely, because he always tells you the truth. And it’s important to tell the truth, isn’t it.

“Mister Simon is your keyholder, someone who can lock your enemies out and you in. You trust your keyholder, because he always tells you the truth. And the key to your safe place is the phrase, ‘Bubbles wants her safe place.’”

 

At this point, I feel immediately sleepy and drowzy. Knowing what is happening now, however, I can fight it. The recent trigger hasn’t taken hold yet, and I hang on to my feeling of betrayal and anger, to the knowledge that he TRICKED me, using mind games and hypnosis, allows me to resist and stay awake.

 

“You know that there are almost infinite safe places above this one, right? So each time you hear that phrase, you will start at the last safe place you visited, and climb fifty steps to an even safer, more comfortable place. And just like this time, each step will take you to a higher, safer, more receptive and suggestible place. When you reach the fiftieth step, you’ll call out ‘fifty’ to tell your Master you’ve reached your destination. You’ll listen to your Master or Mistress, your guide, as they describe your new safe place, and that is what it will become.”

 

He keeps going, laying out all my convinctions about him, all my very recent doubts, all the things I started feeling in the back of my mind ever since last night, that I was afraid were coming from inside but now I know were a lie.

 

“Mister Simon is wise and kind.

“Mister Simon wants what’s best for me.

“It feels good to obey.

“It feels good to be desired.

“If it feels good, it is good.

“It feels good to get fucked.

“If it feels good, it is good.

“Getting fucked feels better than fucking ever did.

“If it feels good, it is good.

“It feels good to be a good girl.

“It feels good to obey.

” If it feels good, it is good.

“You’re safe with Mister Simon, not only here, but in your waking life. As long as Mister Simon is pleased with you, you’re safe with Mister Simon. It feels good to be safe with Mister Simon.

“If it feels good, it is good.”

 

I close the video, almost nauseated, and hurry to cover my tracks. My mind a confused haze, as I struggle to figure out the next step, I hurry to the still passed-out Riccardo and with a deep breath, slowly push his fingers to reactivate the zone control. The pain is immedaite and intense, bringing tears to my eyes, but I need to do this or they would notice my belt had that feature switched off. I whimper and almost fall to my knees, but I manage to stagger quickly out of the room, the pain stopping as soon as I am back in the hallway. The punihsment would register on my belt’s log and be sent to central storage, like the videos, but on that one I can only hope it gets lost in the sea of other minor punishments, infractions and reprimands us sissies get every day. It would take someone cross-referencing the punishment log with the GPS data and the video feed to figure out what happened, and even then it would look like Riccardo’s infraction, dragging a sissy in an unauthorized zone to have his way with her.

 

I stagger to the next class, where I would blame my delay with having to move seductively as Mister Simon instructed, trying to figure out what my next move will be.

———————————————–

Now

 

By this point I figured out my plan. Pretend nothing is wrong. That I don’t know anything. That I trust him and believe his every word as if the hypnosis worked, with no way for me to fight back. I nuzzle his neck like the loving sissy he thinks I am, knowing one of the things he wants to do with me is send me outside. With a chastity cage. Without the sissylink.

 

And I will be ready for it.

"How may I serve you today, Master? Send me a message with your orders and I will obey!"

1 user thanked author for this post.

©2020 Melissa Daniels & Renee Carter-Daniels

Log in with your credentials

or    

Forgot your details?

Create Account