Be the Girl You Long to Be (Patreon)

All characters are over the age of 18 and consensual

You kneel on all fours on the bed, the cool leather of the red harness pressing against your skin. The straps frame your chest and waist perfectly, accentuating every curve Master Marcus has helped you develop. A matching red collar sits snugly around your throat, connected to the silver chain that dangles from his hand just out of frame. Your long platinum blonde hair cascades over your shoulders as you look back over your shoulder, lips slightly parted, eyes heavy with makeup. The red garter straps bite gently into your thighs, and the tiny red heels on your feet force your ass higher into the air.

This is what you wanted.

Master Marcus gives the chain a gentle tug, making the collar tighten for just a moment. “It was inevitable, sissy,” he says calmly, his voice low and certain. “Do you truly believe you are more of a man than I ever was? You are only deceiving yourself.”

You don’t answer. You can’t. Not with the way your body is reacting — the way your locked clitty strains uselessly against its cage, the way your heart races at the sound of his voice and the feel of the leather and chain.

“From the moment you laid eyes on me, you desired to be just like me, didn’t you?” he continues. “A real man would want to ravish me. But you are no real man, are you?”

The words sink deep. You never wanted to take a woman like him. You wanted to be her. You wanted the silky lingerie, the makeup, the heels, the way men looked at you when you finally let yourself become feminine. You wanted to feel owned, desired, and controlled.

Master Marcus steps closer, the chain rattling softly. “No, because deep down inside, you know that you’re nothing more than a sissy. The very thought of being me arouses and excites you. You crave to be lusted after, wanted, and owned by a superior man.”

Your arms tremble slightly as you hold the pose. The red harness feels tight and perfect at the same time. The collar is a constant, heavy reminder around your neck. You can feel the weight of it with every breath.

“You yearn to feel sexy in my silky lingerie,” he says, running a hand slowly down your back, tracing the leather straps. “With a collar locked tightly around your throat as a constant reminder of your true identity at all times. And oh, how you long for the garter to cinch your figure into a more alluring feminine shape.”

He gives the chain another small tug. You arch your back instinctively, pushing your ass higher for him.

“Your sissy clitty burns with desire to be locked away and rendered impotent,” Master Marcus continues, his voice growing darker with satisfaction, “so that it may bounce helplessly while a REAL man takes charge and pounds your sissy ass.”

The image flashes through your mind — you on your back or on all fours just like this, the cage swinging uselessly between your legs while he or another man uses you. The thought makes your whole body flush with heat and shame.

“But don’t resist it any longer,” he says firmly. “It’s pointless now. You’re already here. You’re already dressed like this. You’re already collared and leashed on my bed. Embrace your place as a cock-craving sissy cumslut NOW.”

You lower your head slightly, blonde hair falling forward, but he gives the chain a sharper tug, forcing you to look back at him again.

“It’s time to let go of your false notions of masculinity,” Master Marcus says. “You were never meant to be the man in the relationship. You were never meant to lead, to fuck, or to be in control. You were meant to be exactly what you are right now — a pretty, obedient, feminized sissy in red leather, collared and ready to serve.”

He walks slowly around the bed, the chain sliding through his fingers as he inspects you from every angle. The red straps of the harness frame your body like gift wrapping. The way the leather sits against your smooth skin makes you feel more feminine than you ever thought possible.

“This is who you are now,” he says. “My leashed little pet. My personal sissy to dress, to train, and to use whenever I please. And deep down, you know this is exactly what you’ve always wanted. To stop pretending. To stop fighting. To finally be the girl you long to be.”

Master Marcus stops in front of you again and reaches down, tilting your chin up with two fingers so you’re forced to meet his gaze.

“From now on, every time you feel the collar around your throat or the cage between your legs, I want you to remember this moment. You chose this. You begged for this. And now you belong to me.”

He gives the chain one final, possessive tug.

“Be a good girl and hold this pose. I want to take a few more pictures of my new red-leather sissy before I decide how I’m going to use you tonight.”

You stay perfectly still on all fours, the chain taut, the red harness tight against your body, your long blonde hair falling forward as you look back at him with wide, obedient eyes.

You are exactly where you were always meant to be. Collared. Leashed. Feminized. And completely, utterly his.