Date: Thu, 10 Sep 2015 00:23:09 +0100 From: tina foster Subject: Malleable Sissy Mandy 2 By Reading this, you acknowledge that it's intended for adults only, like the rest of the work of tinafosteruk@gmail.com If you're not old enough to read this, "why are you here?? Go away?" To those who enjoy reading these, thank you for your attention. It's appreciated. And, to those who can afford it, may I ask that you think of making a donation to Nifty, without which there'd not be this marvellous platform for our stories. * Malleable Sissy Mandy 2 Master left for work an hour ago. Since then I have cleaned the flat from top to bottom, some rooms twice. I've done the work in the blue-nylon tabard type pinny Master bought for me at Bury market; so I keep my pretty things clean. And, it can be a dirty job, keeping a home, for a man. But, I kneel in the bathroom and use my tongue to clean the toilet seat, as I'd been instructed. Once I am finished I will begin to prepare for Master John's return home. He works locally in a corner newsagent and works long hours, so he needs looking after. And, I do so love to look after my Master. He left for work after inserting my butt-plug that I wear to be ready to service a man. And I wear it with dark hold-ups and black hipster panties. I shave all over, bar for my blonde hair which is now shoulder length and often worn in bunches, like today? I know I must be ready soon, as Master's friend is due and, I'll be a good girl for him, after all, I'm Master John's malleable sissy Mandy; ready to be moulded to any man's needs for Him? So I await his presence by the door, now wearing a sheer black nightie, over my pretty underwear, my feet squeezed into a pair of shiny black high heels, ordered specially for me and paid for many times over, with my 'services'. I've been told that my visitor will want complete subservience and, that he might enjoy his pleasures in a sadistic manner. 'He might,' my mind screams; as I stand docilely, my hand clasped before me, as I stare down to the tips of my high heels. My stomach is churning. I haven't eaten for two days and, all I've had is the protein drinks and, the cum Master John fed me, last night. Yet, in all fairness to my Master, he did tell me "If you're a good sissy, then after I get home tonight, I'll feed you a meal suitable for a hungry sissy?" Master had slid his hand into my panties as I pressed myself eagerly to him, my lips against his. Then he'd fingered me dry; and roughly, before inserting the plug and causing me to wince with the discomfort that brought my Master pleasure, which his arousal proved: "So you be a good sissy for Marco," he'd told me, twisting the plug with his left hand and pinching my left nipple with right forefinger and thumb. Eyes closed I'd moaned my pleasure and pain, against his lips, as he spoke again, "Tell me, who do you belong to?" He has often asked that of me, over the last year and, my reply is always the same one, "You are my Master and my mind and body are yours, to use and abuse as you see fit?" And, for a moment I think I see something more than lust in his eyes. Then all too soon, the moment had been and gone. He had released me from his embrace and then left me alone in the flat, to clean and tidy as I waited nervously, for 'The Italian Stallion', as Marco liked to be called. And my now of this particular moment entails a pain in my calves from the height of the heels, a gnawing in my stomach from not being fed and, a need to satisfy my young master's friend, however he seeks to use? his Malleable Sissy Mandy? Finally the doorbell goes and I look through to the screen by the alarm touchpad, to see who is calling: Black shoulder length thick wavy hair, Black leather, thin blue jeans and, that famous swagger of his - it is Marco. I've been told of him and few of the stories are good, but none of my concerns matter anymore and, neither do my opinions. All that matters is the young man who controls my life, for whom I have given my all, to pleasure him and, his beautiful cock. He can have anyone, man or woman, boy or girl, seemingly any age or colour, simply due to his Johnny Depp looks. And, although he's gained a few pounds and lost a little hair, since I first fell in love with his cock, much has happened to have led me here, none of which I regret, as it all led to was here and now. 'I am here and his? what more is there?' I think, as I answer the intercom, then buzz Marco in, still more than a little nervous with anticipation for what is yet to come and, I'm very aware of the butt-plug filling me, reminding me of my purpose. "Hello Sir," I say with a small curtsey, as Marco enters, looking around himself, at my Masters well-appointed flat, that I keep so clean for him. "I like the tits," He says coarsely, sitting on the leather couch, one arm on the back, his left leg crossed over the right at the thigh. He pats the cushion next to him and, I walk across the room, toward him. His nose is aquiline and, he'd be pleased to hear me call it Roman. "They were the masters of the world for over a thousand years," he's been heard to tell people, proudly. And, his teeth are big and white and seem to heighten just how dark his olive skin is. I guess he could be seen as good looking by some; he certainly is in his own eyes. To me, he is the man I am to satisfy this afternoon, no matter what he might want of me. "Thank you Sir," I say to him, "Master John has had me taking hormones for months now?" He has and, it's paid off. I like what I have and Master does too. "Well, you're gonna moan like a whore?" Marco begins with a smile, as he reaches up and paws my little boobies, nipples hardening at his touch. I can't help but close my eyes a second and whimper, as he pinches my erect nipples, knowing this is a prelude of what it is yet to come? 'I'll be good,' I remind myself, as Marco's hand travels up my nylon-clad inner left thigh; then reaching my trembling warm flesh at the stocking-top and finally the end of the butt-plug inside me, beneath my pretty panties. "Look at me," he snaps. So, I open my eyes. "Who and what are you?" He asks slyly, knowing how I will answer, I am sure. And I give the answer as I've been taught, sounding as submissive as it makes me: 'I am Masters John's toy and plaything. I am Sissy Mandy, his to please and obey.' As I finish speaking Marco pats the cushion again, so I sit. "And, what did he say you were to do for me?" Marco asks me, his erection already evident in his light-blue worn jeans, tight across the crotch, as he splays his legs. "To serve, Sir," I reply softly, looking at my knees and biting my lower trembling lip. And, it's good that he smiles in response, as if he hadn't I'm sure I'd have suffered. My thoughts are confirmed, as he tells me, "You know I'll hurt you today, don't you Sissy Mandy?" Oh, I'd realised it. Heck, Master John had already forewarned me. Yet even so, it was hard to admit my knowledge. Yet of course I did, of course. I'd nodded my head, and then looked to Marco. Then I offered him a shy smile, while slowly squirming a little, so the plug pushed inward a little, widening me further and causing me to leak a little, in my pretty panties. Wanting to admit my own desires at that moment, all-of-a-sudden, I decided it might be more prudent to ask the obvious question of my 'Italian Stallion'. "Can I get you a drink, Sir?" I ask him, ensuring my voice sounds as soft as I intend. "Yeah, I'm kinda dry? so whattcha got?" He asks, running his hands across my face. 'Beer?' I try to suggest, yet find it impossible, as three fingers have entered my mouth filling me to the extreme and, all I can do is gag a moment, as he finger-fucks the back of my throat; and suddenly I'm retching on his fingers, fighting for air, tears streaming down face. Drools runs down my face with my make-up running? And, I place my hands on my knees, looking up to him with watery eyes and still my urge to panic. I'm there to be his submissive toy and, if he wants to abuse my throat? Then, I'll acquiesce, as Master John instructed me, before leaving the flat. Then my left nipple is twisted painfully, before he releases my titflesh and, Marco slaps the left side of my face. He watches for my reaction and smiles as I wince, at the first strike against my skin, that causes it to redden and his smile to widen, prior to five more vicious open-handed blows that sent me reeling to the floor. "Get the fuck up and get me that beer," he snaps, then makes to kick me, with his big motorcycle boots. So I rise, quickly? "Yessir," I reply hurriedly, having already guessed how the day is going to go and, it's only ten thirty, in the morning?