Jan’s control over me—and now Dick, in Crissy’s absence—was a living, breathing thing, a web of power that wove through every moment, erotic and all-consuming, her Princess persona an unshakable force that demanded absolute devotion. With Crissy sidelined by her accident, the wild parties were on hold, but Jan’s ownership didn’t falter; it deepened, her demands shaping our quiet days into a private, sexy ritual where her pleasure was my purpose, her voice my command. The black leather collar etched with “Sissy sissy” was more than a prop—it was her mark, a constant reminder that I was hers, body and soul, while Dick, Crissy’s sissy, now knelt under her temporary rule. Jan’s control was about owning us completely, making us crave her approval, her pleasure, and she wielded it with a mix of fierce authority and intimate precision, all while keeping the sissy dynamic alive, ready to flare up when Crissy’s world reignited.
Her control started with the small things, the daily rituals she enforced to keep us tethered to her. That morning, after the news of Crissy’s accident, Jan woke me with her hand on my cock, her fingers slow and deliberate through my boxers, her voice a low purr in my ear. “Wake up, sissy,” she said, her Princess tone soft but unyielding. “You’re mine today, every fucking move you make is for Princess.” I stirred, my cock hardening instantly, the collar warm against my throat. “Yes, Princess,” I murmured, already sinking into her power, her ownership a drug I couldn’t resist.
She sat up, her silk robe slipping open, her eyes locking on mine. “Dick’s staying with us for a while,” she said, her voice firm. “Crissy’s orders—he’s to stay sissy, and I’m in charge. That means you both obey Princess, you both exist for my pleasure. Understand, sissy?”
“Yes, Princess,” I said, my pulse quickening, the thought of Jan controlling us both—me in my red teddy, Dick in his pink maid dress—stirring my cock despite the shift in our world. Her control was absolute, her demands clear: we were her sissies, her sluts, and every act would reinforce her dominance.
She led me to the bathroom, her hand on my collar, and ordered me to strip. “Shower, sissy,” she said, standing in the doorway, watching as I soaped up, her gaze possessive. “Clean every inch for Princess. I want my pet perfect.” I obeyed, the water hot, my cock hard under her scrutiny, the collar staying on even as I washed. When I stepped out, she handed me a new outfit—not the wild latex or schoolgirl skirts of Crissy’s parties, but a soft, sheer white chemise, crotchless panties, and thigh-high stockings, all delicate but screaming submission. “Wear it, sissy,” she said, her voice sharp. “And this.” She held up a small vibrating plug, its base marked with her initials, a twin to the one she’d used on Dick last night.
I lubed it, sliding it in, the stretch gentle but firm, my moan soft as it settled against my prostate. “Thank you, Princess,” I said, kneeling as she clipped a thin silver chain to my collar, not a leash but a subtle tether. “You’re mine, sissy,” she said, tugging the chain, her fingers brushing my cock through the panties, teasing without relief. “Every step, every breath, is for Princess’s pleasure.”
Dick was already in the kitchen when we emerged, his pink maid dress swishing, his wig neat, his eyes downcast but obedient. Jan had dressed him earlier, her control over him as seamless as it was over me. “Richard, sissy, kneel,” she ordered, and we both dropped, the rug rough, the plug shifting inside me, Dick’s petticoats fluffing out. “You’re both Princess’s sluts,” she said, standing over us, her robe open, her cunt barely covered. “Today, you serve me, you please me, you make me cum. Clear?”
“Yes, Princess,” we said in unison, my cock leaking into the panties, Dick’s tenting his dress, her power binding us together under her rule.
Her first demand was breakfast, but it was no simple task. “Cook for me, sissies,” she said, sitting at the table, her legs crossed, the remote for our plugs in hand. “I want it perfect, and I want you feeling Princess with every move.” She flicked the remotes, our plugs buzzing low, making me gasp, Dick whimpering softly as we scrambled to make eggs, toast, and coffee. The chemise teased my skin, the stockings rubbed, the plug’s vibrations kept my cock hard, and Jan’s eyes never left us, her pleasure in our submission palpable. “Faster, sissies,” she said, cranking the buzz, my moan loud, Dick’s “Yes, Princess” shaky as we plated her food, kneeling to serve her.
She ate slowly, her foot brushing my cock through the panties, then Dick’s, her control effortless. “You exist for my pleasure,” she said, her voice low, her eyes burning. “Tell me, sissies.”
“You own us, Princess,” I said, my voice fervent, the plug’s buzz and her foot driving me wild. “We’re yours, for your pleasure.”
“Yes, Princess,” Dick echoed, his maid dress trembling, his cock dripping.
After breakfast, she led us to the lounge, her chain on my collar, Dick trailing behind. “On the couch, sissies,” she ordered, stripping off her robe, her naked body a command. She sat between us, her hands on our cocks, stroking slow through the lace, the plugs still buzzing. “My sissies, my sluts,” she said, her voice thick. “Lick me, sissy,” she told me, guiding my head to her cunt, my tongue diving in, slow and deep, her moans soft but demanding. “Richard, kiss my tits,” she ordered, and Dick obeyed, his lips on her nipples, his maid dress rustling, her pleasure our shared purpose.
She came, her juices flooding my mouth, her grip tightening on us both. “Fuck, you’re mine,” she gasped, kissing me, then Dick, her tongue claiming us. Her control didn’t stop—she pulled a thin dildo from her bag, lubing it. “Bend over, sissy,” she told me, and I did, the chemise riding up, the plug removed as she slid the dildo in, slow and deep, my moan loud, “Thank you, Princess.” She fucked me, her hand on my cock, her voice owning me: “You’re Princess’s slut, doing this for my pleasure.” Dick watched, his plug buzzing, until she ordered him to stroke my cock, his touch awkward but obedient, her control binding us.
She didn’t let me cum, stopping short, her power absolute. “Richard, your turn,” she said, and he bent over, the dildo sliding into him, his “Yes, Princess” mixing with moans as she fucked him, my hand on his cock under her command. Her pleasure was in our submission, our obedience, and she reveled in it, her eyes blazing as she owned us both.
The day softened, her Princess vibe easing as we curled up, me in the chemise, Dick in his maid dress, her arms around us. “You’re both mine until Crissy’s back,” she said, her voice gentle but firm, fingers tracing my collar. “No parties, but Princess demands your devotion. Tomorrow, we visit Crissy, keep her spirits up, but you’ll always obey me, sissies, won’t you?”
“Yes, Princess,” we said, my cock twitching, Dick’s eyes downcast but loyal. Her control was our world—erotic, intimate, unyielding—and though Crissy’s parties were paused, Jan’s ownership promised more, a private realm of sexy submission, ready to flare when the time came. |