The Caning of a Sissy
Mistress Azumi’s dungeon was a world of its own—dimly lit, filled with the intoxicating scent of leather and latex, a place where control was absolute, and submission was the only law. Tonight, I was not just a plaything; I was their sissy—a project, a pet, something to be shaped into exactly what they desired.
Mistress Azumi stood before me, sleek and dominant in her Atsuko Kudo latex dress, her high heels clicking as she paced. Beside her, Mistress Sora leaned against a bondage cross, watching me with a smirk, her own latex-clad body shimmering under the glow of candlelight.
Azumi ran a gloved finger under my chin, tilting my face up to meet her piercing gaze. “You want to be our perfect little sissy, don’t you?” she asked, her tone both teasing and commanding.
“Yes, Mistress,” I whispered, barely able to speak under the weight of their presence.
Sora giggled, stepping closer, her hands smoothing down the pink satin panties and matching stockings they had dressed me in. “Oh, but you’re still so stiff,” she purred. “A proper sissy is soft, delicate, obedient. We’ll have to correct that.”
Before I could respond, Azumi grabbed my wrist and pulled me forward, guiding me to the caning bench. The thick leather straps were waiting, and in moments, I was secured—face down, my back arched, my body completely vulnerable.
The first stroke of the cane landed without warning, delivered by Azumi’s precise, ruthless hand. A sharp gasp escaped my lips as the sting bloomed across my skin. “That was just the beginning,” she murmured.
Sora took the cane next, her strokes more playful but no less punishing. She would drag the tip along my exposed flesh before lashing it down, laughing as I squirmed under her touch. “You’ll learn to love this,” she cooed. “Every stroke is making you more perfect for us.”
The caning continued, each mistress taking turns, alternating between slow, torturous build-ups and rapid, relentless strikes. My body shook, my mind floating in a haze of pain and pleasure, their dominance absolute.
When they finally stopped, Azumi leaned down, pressing a gloved hand against the fresh welts. “Now,” she whispered, her voice thick with satisfaction, “let’s see if you’ve earned the next step in your training.”