Blackmailed Bound (Patreon)

Nicole had gathered her four closest girlfriends in the living room for a very special demonstration. They all knew about her lying, cheating, ultra-conservative scumbag of an ex-boyfriend Brandon. What they didn’t know was how completely she had destroyed him.

She hadn’t needed hypnosis. All it took was a hidden camera, a few well-timed screenshots, and a folder full of videos showing Brandon with three different women while he preached family values to everyone who would listen. When she showed him the evidence and explained exactly what would happen to his reputation, his church friends, and his uptight family if it ever leaked, he folded instantly.

The deal was simple: total obedience as her sissy, or total ruin.

Six weeks later, Brandon no longer existed. In his place was Brittany — a soft, pretty, princess-obsessed sissy who cooked, cleaned, curtsied, and called Nicole “Goddess” without hesitation. The old male ego was still in there, just enough to make every moment of humiliation sting like hell. His body had learned to love the dresses, the makeup, the way the panties felt, but his mind still screamed in shame. That delicious conflict was exactly what Nicole wanted. Tonight she was showing her friends the final stage.

Brittany knelt on the carpet in the centre of the room, already dressed exactly as Nicole had instructed: a tight, shiny red satin dress that clung to the padded curves and rode high on her thighs, sheer black pantyhose, and glossy black stiletto heels. Her long brown hair was styled in soft waves, her makeup was flawless, and a small feminine tattoo curled across one thigh — a permanent souvenir Nicole had “encouraged” last week.

“Girls,” Nicole said, smiling at her friends’ wide eyes, “you all remember my lying, cheating ex. Well, thanks to some very convincing blackmail, I’ve turned him into this. Meet Brittany. Total princess complex. Loves cooking and cleaning for me. But she still has just enough of that old macho ego left to feel every single bit of what’s about to happen.”

Brittany’s face burned. “Nicole… please. Not in front of everyone. This dress is way too short and—” “Shhh.” Nicole picked up a coil of white rope. “Tonight is about showing my friends just how obedient my little blackmail sissy really is. Stay still, princess.” She started with Brittany’s wrists, pulling them behind her back and wrapping the rope in tight, even loops before cinching them securely. Brittany whimpered as her arms were drawn together. Nicole continued upward, weaving a decorative but strict chest harness that framed the padded breasts and pulled the red satin tight across them. Every time Brittany shifted, the ropes hugged her harder.

“See how she’s already getting excited?” Nicole said to the watching women, running a finger along the front of the dress. “Her body loves this. The mind is still fighting, though. That’s the beauty of it. The old Brandon is in there somewhere, mortified that his conservative buddies might ever see him like this… while the new Brittany is getting hard in her chastity cage just from being tied up in front of an audience.” Brittany let out a mortified little moan. “Oh my god… they’re all looking… please don’t take pictures…”

Nicole ignored the plea and moved to the legs. She bound Brittany’s thighs together with several tight bands of rope, then wrapped more around her ankles, connecting everything so the sissy was locked in a strict, helpless kneeling position. The black heels pointed prettily behind her. The red dress had ridden up just enough to show the lace tops of the pantyhose and the little tattoo on her thigh. Nicole stepped back to admire her work, then picked up a strip of bright yellow rope. “Last touch.” Brittany’s eyes widened. “Nicole, wait—mmph!”

The tape was pressed firmly over her glossy lips and smoothed down on both sides. The gag was effective and humiliatingly bright against her made-up face. Muffled protests were all that escaped.

Nicole took out her phone and began circling, taking photo after photo from every angle. She made sure to capture the exact pose her friends were now seeing: Brittany looking back over one bare shoulder, eyes wide with humiliated panic, the intricate white rope work stark against the red satin, black pantyhose stretched over her bound legs, stiletto heels on full display.

“Perfect,” Nicole murmured, showing the screen to her giggling friends. “Now, before I let her try to talk again, let’s discuss what happens next. Brittany, if I ungag you, are you going to be a good girl and tell everyone how much you love your new life?” A desperate, muffled nod. Nicole removed the rope slowly. Brittany gasped, lips shiny and slightly swollen. “Tell them,” Nicole ordered.

Brittany’s voice was small and shaky. “I… I love the dress. And the way you did my hair. And… and being tied up like this. It’s so embarrassing but I can’t stop… reacting to it. OMG. I can’t believe I just said that out loud.” The girls laughed. One of them zoomed in on the ropes.

Nicole smiled. “Good girl. Now, since this is your official coming-out-as-a-sissy night, what would you like to do after I untie you?”

Brittany hesitated, fighting the words, but the blackmail — and the ropes — had done their job.

“I… I want to go shopping,” she admitted, cheeks flaming. “For more cute outfits. And maybe… maybe learn how to do other things too. Like… like practice giving blowjobs. So I can be a proper sissy for you.” Nicole’s friends burst out laughing again. Brittany looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her.

Nicole patted her bound cheek. “There it is, ladies. Completely broken and still fighting it. The perfect combination. Now, who in this room would like me to do the same thing to their boyfriend? I’ve got plenty of rope left… and Brittany would love some new sissy besties to hang out with once she’s untied. Wouldn’t you, princess?”

Brittany could only nod, eyes glassy with shame and helpless arousal, the white ropes holding her perfectly in place for one more round of photos.

Nicole raised her phone again.

“Smile for the camera, Brittany. Or at least try. Your old friends are going to love seeing what happened to their ‘real man’.”