It is April 14th, at 8 o' clock in the evening, and I have just rung the doorbell for my scheduled apartment with Lady Sophia Larou. A note on the door says to take a seat while waiting, but I prefer to remain standing in a submissive position. Besides I am wearing a buttplug harness under my clothes, and standing up is slightly less uncomfortable.
I am here with my wife's consent. We've been together for thirteen years, and we have gravitated steadily towards a femdom-led marriage involving increasingly long periods of slavery for me. During such periods I am in chastity and serve as her domestic maid, her sex toy and – something she especially enjoys – her urinal. Today it has been exactly 30 days since my last orgasm and I know it will probably be at least another month before I will be allowed to have one. Sometimes when I schedule a session, my wife writes a letter for me to bring the domme, but not this time. She just wants to see "serious marks" on my ass when I get home, the rest is up to Lady Sophia Larou and myself. That I am not allowed to come is a given.
I now hear footsteps, and shortly afterwards Lady Sophia opens the door and greets me, looking stunning and stylish in black latex, partly covered by a black blouse. She invites me in for a meet-and-greet. This is only the second time I meet her, the first time being more than a year ago. I still cherish the memory of the contrast between my appearance at the start and end of that session: at the beginning I was a delicately made-up little sissy in my pink PVC maid's uniform, at the end I was a mess on the floor, soiled in Lady Sophia's piss and her slave's cum. The memory made me smile for days afterwards.
Tonight, it turns out, no other slave will be available, but LSL suggests bringing one of her online slaves into the game, something I have not tried before. Shortly afterwards she leads me to the cross-dressing room where I take off my jacket. She is highly amused by my t-shirt with the print "SMALL PENIS" and an arrow pointing downwards. She asks if I ever wear it publicly, and I confess to never having dared to (though I have worn another one saying "SISSY" in large letters. The thing is that public humiliation has simply become too risky. Ten years ago I probably would have dared wearing it, but nowadays the risk of being photographed and ending up on YouTube is simply too great...
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My buttplug harness and my chastity device is inspected. The latter is a made-to-measure Queen's Keep stainless steel cage from Mature Metal. I have owned it for just a few weeks, but I have no doubt I will be using it for years; it is by far the best device for long-term wear I've had to date. Lady Sophia now instructs me to get on all fours, head on the floor, ass facing the door, and remaining in that position till she returns, and I comply.
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When she returns, my sissification process begins. I am made to wear a pair of prosthetic breasts, something I have tried only once before. I am surprised how natural they feel and resolve to get a pair for myself some day. Lady Sophia is now in a tight-fitting red-and-black shiny latex outfit. I blurt out "Wow, you look fantastic!" or something dumb like that. I usually try to be more controlled, but this was a completely spontaneous reaction on seeing her. I even do it a second time later in the evening!
One thing I really like about LSL is that you can have a normal conversation with her. I am not overly fond of some of the theatrics that sometimes go with a pro domme sessions. That might sound strange, since parading about in an overly feminized maid's outfit is pretty damn theatrical in itself. I can't really explain it; it just gets too stilted for me when conversations have to be conducted in the third person. Nor am I a fan of euphemisms like "golden nectar" or "champagne": the word "piss" does just fine for me! Just a matter of taste I suppose.
While she applies makeup on me, we talk about our earlier session. Given that is has been more than a year, it is impressive how much she remembers, even down to details about the itchy interior lining of the uniform I wore at the time. Today I wear a different one, a more comfortable black-and-pink light PVC uniform from Misfitz. We also talk about ideas for future sessions, and about my experiences with being cuckolded. I also fill her in about the most recent significant development in my domestic slave status: the fact that I now pay for the privilege of drinking my wife' piss. I must duly keep a tab of how much I consume and pay her by the month. The price, 100 kr per liter, earns a hearty laugh from Lady Sophia, and she talks about taking up the idea with her own slave.
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Eventually she is done with my makeup, and there is not a shred of masculinity left in me. "No more being nice" she says. It is time for the corporal punishment. I am led to another room where she cuffs me to the cross, face against the wall. She establishes a connection with her aforementioned online slave, who is ordered to attach pins or pegs to his sensitive areas while he watches the proceeding on her computer's webcam. Over the several next minutes I am caned and whipped, and caned and whipped again, mostly on the ass, but also on my back through the uniform. She tells me to try suppressing my "Ouch!" and "Oh!" exclamations with "Thank you"s. I overdo the thank yous a bit and am told to save them for the strikes that really hurt.
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When she thinks I've had enough, she frees me from the cross and orders me on my knees. Her online slave is offline now. She sticks a red dildo in my mouth and orders me to suck it. I do my best but can not suppress the gag reflex that always bother me when I suck cock. Lady Sophia is satisfied that I already look quite a mess, the false eyelashes by now stuck to my cheeks.
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The evening's session is nearing its end and I am ordered to go fetch two towels, place them on the floor and lie down on my back. Lady Sophia goes away to "slip into something more comfortable for pissing", and shortly afterwards she returns and stands over me. I am again on the verge of blurting out something about how utterly sexy she looks, but this time I manage to refrain myself. With her psychological savvy she has devined that piss-drinking is so central a part of my slave relationship with my wife, that she ought not to impose on it; instead of pissing in my mouth she opts to piss on my "clit". I am ordered to stroke said clit through the cage, which is of course completely futile.
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I lie happily on the floor drenched in her piss. The session is over and Lady Sophia has not been in a hurry. I clean the floor with the towels, then I go to have shower and scrub off my makeup (as usual displacing a contact lens in the process). A great relief to finally remove the buttplug and the harness. But the steel chastity cage remains locked on. I am to remain frustrated for several weeks yet.
Then I collect my stuff and wait in the cross-dressing room while I browse through the photos she took with my camera during the session (some of which should accompany this little story if I figured out the technicalities correctly). She comes back, we say goodbye and she sees me to the door, and I am resolved that not another year shall pass before I serve her again.
A great experience. Thank you, Lady Sophia.
