Personalised Story: Texas Femdom Prison: Part 7 (Patreon)

The leather cuffs locked tight around Kenny’s wrists and ankles, thick straps crossing his chest, hips, and thighs until he lay completely immobilized on the padded table. The Swedish blonde mistress walked a slow circle around him, her high ponytail swinging, her glossy lips curved in a mocking smile. She adjusted the final strap across his lower belly, then leaned down so her breath brushed his ear.

“Say it, sissy. Tell me exactly what you are.”

Kenny’s voice cracked as he forced the words out. “I’m a pathetic sissy who needs to be punished.”

Her laugh was low and delighted. “Louder. And tell me why you’re here.”

“I’m a pathetic sissy who needs to be punished… because Anna wants it. I consent to this for Anna.”

She straightened, satisfied, and began with her bare fingers. Long nails spidered under his arms, digging into the tender skin of his ribs and stomach. Kenny’s body jerked hard against the straps. Laughter burst from him in ragged, helpless bursts. She moved lower, scratching along his inner thighs, then back up to his armpits, never letting the sensation settle into anything predictable.

When her fingers tired she switched to feathers. Soft plumes brushed the soles of his feet, the arches, the sensitive skin between his toes. She dragged one feather slowly along the underside of his chastity cage, watching the trapped cock twitch uselessly inside the steel. Another feather circled his nipples, the light touch making his whole torso spasm.

“Listen to you,” she cooed, voice sweet and cruel. “Squealing like a little girl while your wife spreads her legs for a real man. Anna’s probably on her knees right now, choking on her bosses thick cock, and here you are, strapped down and laughing because a feather tickles your toes. Say it again.”

Kenny gasped between bursts of laughter. “I’m a pathetic sissy who needs to be punished. I consent to this for Anna.”

She kept the feathers moving, alternating between light strokes and sudden, vicious scratching with her nails. Kenny’s laughter turned hoarse. Tears streaked his makeup. His chest heaved against the strap. The chastity cage stayed tight, his trapped cock straining with nowhere to go.

Hours passed in that cycle. She would pause just long enough for him to catch his breath, then demand the words again before resuming the punishment. Fingers, feathers, nails—each tool used until his voice grew raw from laughing and repeating the same humiliating confession.

Eventually she set the feathers aside and reached for the ball crusher. She slid the cold metal plates around his stretched sac, tightening the screws until the pressure built from discomfort to sharp pain. Kenny’s laughter choked off into a strangled whine. She turned the screws another quarter turn, watching his face contort.

“These pathetic little things,” she said, tapping the crusher with one nail. “So small and useless. Anna doesn’t need them anymore. She’s got real alpha male heavy balls to play with instead. Say it.”

Kenny’s voice shook. “I’m a pathetic sissy who needs to be punished. I consent to this for Anna.”

She loosened the crusher just enough to free him, then stepped back. Her heeled boot rose and came down in a controlled kick, the toe connecting squarely with his crushed balls. Kenny’s whole body tried to curl but the straps held him open. Another kick followed, then another, each one making the cage rattle.

She planted her boot flat on his balls, shifting her weight slowly, grinding down. The pressure forced a broken sound from his throat. She leaned forward, smiling down at him.

“Look how tiny they are under my heel. So easy to crush. So easy to forget. Your wife is probably riding Marcus’s cock right now, feeling every thick inch while these worthless things get stepped on. Say it again, sissy.”

Kenny’s voice came out hoarse and broken. “I’m a pathetic sissy who needs to be punished. I consent to this for Anna.”

She lifted her boot and kicked again, harder this time, then returned to the feathers, dragging them across his reddened balls and inner thighs while he gasped and laughed through the pain. The cycle continued—fingers, feathers, crusher, kicks, boot—stretching through the entire day.

Every time his voice faltered she made him repeat the words until they became automatic, his only clear thought that Anna wanted him exactly like this: broken, locked, and used while she took what she needed elsewhere.

The next day the salon dungeon room smelled of antiseptic, perfume, and warm leather. Kenny sat perfectly still on the padded bench, his thighs spread wide, the thick ten-inch vibrating dildo buried deep inside his ass.

The base was locked to the seat so he could not lift off it. Every subtle shift made the toy grind against his prostate. The vibrations had been steady all morning, low and constant, keeping his locked cock straining uselessly inside the flat steel cage. His balls hung swollen and bruised, dark purple from the kicks and crushing they had taken the day before. The pain pulsed with every heartbeat.

The French mistress circled him slowly, her heels clicking on the tile. She wore a tight white lab coat over black latex, her dark hair pinned up. In one hand she held a syringe of Botox, in the other a small mirror.

“Pout for me, sissy,” she ordered.

Kenny parted his lips. The needle slid into the plump flesh of his upper lip, then the lower. She worked methodically, adding volume until both lips looked permanently swollen and glossy. While the Botox settled she picked up the tattoo machine.

“Hold still. This one is permanent.”

The needle buzzed. Across his upper lip, just below the new plump curve, she inked the words “SISSY MAID” in small, elegant script. On the inside of his lower lip she tattooed the word “FOREVER.” The sting mixed with the constant throb of the dildo and the ache in his balls. He tasted blood and ink.

She wiped the excess ink away and smiled. “Now everyone who kisses those lips will know exactly what you are.”

She pressed a button on the remote. The dildo inside him surged to a higher speed, thick vibrations hammering his prostate. Kenny’s hips jerked involuntarily. The cage rattled. His bruised balls tightened and a thin string of clear fluid leaked from the tip of the cage.

The French mistress laughed softly. “Your wife is riding two large muscular black men right now. Dwayne and Jamal are taking turns stretching her pussy while you sit here getting your lips tattooed and your face feminized. She is moaning on their cocks while you become her perfect sissy maid bitch.”

She arched his eyebrows with precise strokes of the tattoo needle, then filled them in with permanent pigment so they would always look delicately shaped. Next came the full makeover: foundation, contour, heavy smoky eyeshadow, thick mascara, and glossy pink lipstick over the fresh tattoos and swollen lips.

Every few minutes she hit the remote again, ramping the dildo higher until Kenny’s whole body trembled on the bench.

“Say it,” she commanded, leaning close so her breath brushed his ear. “Tell me why you are letting me do this to you.”

Kenny’s voice came out hoarse. “I’m a pathetic sissy who needs to be punished. I consent to this for Anna. All of it. To make her happy. To make sure her needs are fulfilled.”

The French mistress smiled and pressed the button once more. The dildo roared inside him, relentless. His cock throbbed painfully against the steel bars of the cage. His bruised balls ached. The fresh lip tattoos stung.

He sat there, impaled and shaking, while she finished the last touches of his transformation—long false lashes, blush, highlighter, and a final coat of gloss that made the words “SISSY MAID” and “FOREVER” shine wetly on his lips.

She stepped back to admire her work. “Look at yourself.”

Kenny stared into the mirror. The reflection showed a heavily feminized sissy maid with plump tattooed lips, arched brows, and a body locked on a massive vibrating dildo. The French mistress kept the toy at full speed, watching him twitch and leak while she described exactly what Anna was doing with the two black men at that moment.

Kenny repeated the words again and again, voice cracking, body shaking, every inch of him aching and used, all of it willingly given so Anna could have everything she wanted.

Two weeks later the Spanish mistress stood behind Kenny in the ranch’s main punishment chamber. The heavy flogger swung in a lazy arc before snapping hard across the new, thick, juicy BBL that now dominated his silhouette.

The impact sent ripples through the round, feminine cheeks, and Kenny’s moan came out high, soft, and unmistakably feminine thanks to the vocal cord surgery. The penis gag filling his mouth muffled the sound into a wet, desperate whimper.

His ankles were locked to floor rings with short chains, forcing him to stand with legs spread. His wrists were pulled high above his head by ceiling chains, stretching his torso so the frilly pink sissy maid dress rode up and exposed the entire swollen ass.

The dress itself was too short to hide anything; the new BBL pushed the hem out obscenely, making every curve impossible to conceal. The fresh tramp stamp “Ride me” peeked above the waistband whenever the fabric shifted.

The Spanish mistress drew the flogger back again. Another loud crack landed across both cheeks. Kenny’s locked cock twitched uselessly inside the flat chastity cage, his bruised balls swinging with the force of the strike. He moaned again, the feminine pitch carrying through the gag.

Anna entered the room at that moment, heels clicking on the concrete. She circled him slowly, eyes traveling over every change. She reached up and traced the permanent “SISSY MAID” tattoo on his upper lip, then the word “FOREVER” inside the lower lip. Her fingers moved to the new hoop earrings, the tongue stud, the belly-button piercing, and finally the large, round BBL she had ordered for him.

“Look at you,” she said, voice warm with approval. “Thick, juicy ass that jiggles with every stroke. Plump tattooed lips. Feminine voice. All the piercings. The tramp stamp. The arched brows. The Botox. Everything I asked for.”

She stepped closer so her breath brushed his ear. “My husband is becoming the perfect submissive I always wanted.”

Kenny’s heart swelled with happiness at her words. The Spanish mistress brought the flogger down again, harder this time, and the feminine moan that escaped around the penis gag was filled with pure, eager submission. Anna smiled, watching the red lines bloom across the new ass she now owned completely.

What had she planned next?