The air in the loft was heavy, permeated with sweet jasmine and the smoky scent of vanilla candles flickering on the vanity. Alex stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, his heart pounding, as he pulled the sheer, black stockings with delicate lace trim from the drawer. He rolled them slowly down his freshly shaved legs, feeling the fabric hug his skin, smooth and cool like a forbidden whisper. His fingers trembled as they glided over the lace, and his cock twitched hard against the tight, black lace panties that barely contained him. A soft moan escaped him as he felt the wet pre-cum soaking the fabric.
The transformation
Alex’s gaze fell on the bra, a work of art in black lace, translucent, with silver beads on the straps. He hooked it behind his back, the straps pulling at his shoulders, and as he inserted the soft silicone pads, he felt the weight, warm and heavy, like real breasts. His breathing quickened, his cock throbbed as he looked at himself in the mirror, the illusion of a perfect, feminine breast. He stroked the lace, his fingernails—painted a deep burgundy—scratching lightly, and a shiver of pleasure shot through him, his cock twitching so hard that he had to restrain himself from coming immediately.
The corset followed, a strict black leather garment that forced his waist into a narrow, feminine curve. He tightened the laces, gasping as the pressure molded his body, rounding his hips. His cock, squeezed inside his briefs, pressed against the fabric, pre-cum seeping through. Then the dress—a deep red satin gown, tight-fitting, with a sweetheart neckline that accentuated his fake breasts. The fabric slid over his skin like a lover’s, the hem, just above his knees, revealing the lace trim of his stockings. He spun, the dress swung, and he felt like a whore, ready for the night.
The high heels completed the transformation—black patent pumps with 12-centimeter heels that stretched his calves and transformed his gait into a seductive sway. The clatter on the wooden floor made his cock twitch with every step, the friction of the panties was agonizingly sweet. Alex was gone. Alexandra was born, a sissy slut whose body vibrated with desire.
The dressing table
Alexandra sat down at the vanity, littered with makeup: tubes, brushes, bottles that glittered like jewels. She applied foundation, her skin becoming flawless, a canvas for the whore she was. With a fine pencil, she shaped her eyebrows into a high, wicked arch that made her green eyes shine like emeralds. Smoky eyeshadow in plum and midnight blue, applied with trembling fingers, made her eyes appear heavy and seductive. The eyeliner, a catlike sweep, enhanced the effect. She applied false eyelashes, long and curled, and when she blinked, they felt as if they were caressing her cheeks, a sensual touch that made her cock even harder.
The lipstick was the highlight—a deep, velvety red, matching the dress. She applied it slowly, feeling the creamy texture on her lips, like a sinful promise. Her wig, long and silky in chestnut brown, fell in soft waves over her shoulders. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she pursed her lips, and her cock twitched so hard that she squeezed her legs together to keep from immediately slipping her hand down her panties. Alexandra was a goddess, a sissy whore, ready to be taken.
The fixation
The door opened, and Julian entered, tall, broad-shouldered, his dark suit immaculate. His smile was dangerous, and the bulge in his pants betrayed his arousal even before he spoke. “Alexandra,” he growled, his voice rough like melted caramel. “You’re a fucking sin.”
She held his gaze, her lips slightly parted, a silent invitation. But Julian had other plans. “On the bed,” he commanded, his voice brooking no argument. Alexandra obeyed, her heart pounding as she lay down on the large bed covered in black satin sheets. Julian pulled four ropes from a bag, soft but strong, and secured her wrists to the top bedposts, her ankles to the bottom. The ropes cut lightly into her skin, and her helplessness made her cock grow even harder, pre-cum dripping through her panties.
Julian pulled out a ball gag, a black, inflatable gag, and shoved it into Alexandra’s mouth. She whimpered as he inflated it until her lips were stretched and her screams were muffled sounds. “That’s it, slut,” he murmured, his eyes glittering with lust as he stood over her, the bulge in his pants now clearly visible.
The intoxication of lust
Julian knelt between her spread legs, his fingers stroking the lace trim of her stockings, then higher until they found her soaked panties. He pulled them down slowly, revealing Alexandra’s hard, throbbing cock, glistening with pre-cum. “So wet for me,” he growled, and his hand closed around her cock, tight but agonizingly slow. Alexandra whimpered through the gag, her hips jerking as he jerked her, his hand sliding deftly up and down, using the pre-cum as lubricant. His other hand kneaded her fake breasts through her bra, pulling on the nipples that were sensitive through the padding.
She couldn’t hold it. The ropes held her captive, the gag muffled her screams, and Julian’s hand was merciless. Her cock exploded, cum spurting in hot spurts over her stomach, the corset, the dress, and she trembled as waves of pleasure raced through her body. Julian grinned, wiped his hand on her thigh, then unbuckled his belt. His cock sprang free, hard, thick, the head glistening with precum, and Alexandra whimpered through the gag, half in fear, half in desire.
He reached for a tube of lubricant, lubricated his cock, and spread it generously against her tight hole. She felt the cool wetness, then the pressure as he pressed his cockhead against her. “Relax, slut,” he growled, and thrust, slow but relentless. Alexandra screamed through the gag, the pain mingling with pleasure as he stretched her, pushing deeper until he was all the way inside her. His hips slapped against her ass, the sound echoing in the room, and he fucked her hard, without mercy, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her against him.
The gag muffled her screams, but her eyes rolled back as pleasure took over. His cock kept hitting that spot inside her that made her see stars, and her cock, still semi-hard, twitched with each thrust. Julian leaned forward, bit her neck, sucking hard, and she felt another orgasm approaching, even though she had just come. “Cum again for me,” he growled, and his hand gripped her cock, jerking it in time with his thrusts. She couldn’t help it—she came again, weaker this time, but intensely, her cum dripping onto the bed as Julian exploded inside her, his hot surge filling her, and he moaned loudly, his body shaking.
The morning after
The sun filtered through the curtains, and Alexandra still lay bound, her gag loosened but not removed. Julian had untied the ropes, but she was too exhausted to move. Her body was sore, sticky with cum and sweat, but she felt alive, fulfilled. Julian kissed her forehead, his fingers playing with the lace trim of her stockings, which she still wore. “Tomorrow again, my little sissy whore?” he asked.
She nodded, her red lips curling into a faint smile around the gag. “Harder,” she whispered, barely audibly, and fell asleep, wrapped in silk and the warm feeling of finally being the slut she’d always wanted to be.
