Being a Submissive Sissy

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Being a Submissive SissyI grew up in Pennsylvania. By the time I was eleven and twelve, I knew that adults were punished. Not only had I heard conversations about it but had heard or watched (by accident) my mother being punished. Of course, when I was about five, I’d had a ring side seat for one of hers. That was the first time I’d seen anyone else given a spanking and, my father could spank! She had bitched and cut my spanking short then, taken my place across my dad’s lap to take the rest of mine. I watched her kicking and yelling, bouncing on his lap and howling, while he turned her bottom black and blue. In the future I’d see more, I would also experience more, as he tried to beat me straight. Not only was he an experienced spanker – my own little backside was a testament to that at times – but, we had a real razor strop in the barn and, later, the family paddle that hung on the basement door in plain sight. By the age of fifteen, I’d experienced all of them, some, like the razor strop and, my father’s hard palm, quite a few times. Ron, my first lover and boyfriend, had been the first non-family member to bare my ass and spank it red – sore, throbbing, stinging and red! He did it, like my father did, to punish me for doing something wrong. My one uncle spanked me a few times and, there was a farmer – well over a mile away – that had not only used his belt across my backside but, had also given me a few spankings over time. He was one who did it because he liked doing that. It also aroused him, to spank my bare backside, my kicking and crying had him rock hard after a few minutes. The more I struggled, the harder he spanked and, the harder his cock got. When it was over, I’d be bent over something, lubed up a little and fucked good and hard. Walking home later, with my ass still on fire and, my cunt well stretched (he wasn’t long but he was a little thick) wasn’t a pleasant trip. I’d always be leaking his nice big load.Ron was the first, to mention to me, following a pretty good spanking, how great it felt to bury his cock in me after I’d been spanked. He told me that it was like shoving his cock into an oven, a red hot oven. Ron didn’t spank me a lot, it was usually for doing something wrong or behaving badly bahis firmaları but, it always ended the same way. After I’d calmed down, after we’d talked, kissed and cuddled for a while, when I’d stopped crying and he’d rubbed my sore ass for a while…after I’d sucked his hard throbbing cock for a little while…I’d end up on my back being fucked good and hard. I was aware that punishment also turned my father on. I’d bounced on his hard cock while getting a spanking. I also knew, from the few times I watched my mother being punished, that he became aroused during that. The bulge in his pants gave it away. What I didn’t find out, until later in life, was what happened in their bedroom later. I had heard some of it, I just didn’t know what was going on then. My mother was given hard anal sex following her punishment. She did her best to take it quietly but, dad was bigger and she was pretty tight. My mother would be put on her stomach and that tight little hole of hers reamed good and hard. No matter how hard she tried to get out of it…sodomy was part of her punishment…hard, rough sodomy.So, when she was walking funny the next day and, had trouble sitting, we shared the same reasons for it. I would have, at any time before one of my punishment sessions (to get out of it) gladly got on my knees and sucked my father dry. The same with him using my boipussy. I would have gladly traded sex for a beating.If you read some of the other stories, you know that I have attracted more dominant guys – especially black ones – during my life. Roger, my older lover from my time in the Virgin Islands, was one of the white ones. With him I was well paid for my pain. My last lover, Jack, wasn’t dom but he was a little strict with me. When I was out of line I could count on (after I’d gone too far) a warning then, a lecture then, a bare-bottomed spanking or worse. We always talked later, we made up and he assured me that he loved me and cared for me. With Jack it wasn’t casual play, I was being punished. Part of making up was sex – I gave my sore ass up easily and, we made love.With him I knew that, when the paddle came out, my little ass was in trouble. More than once, I found myself sitting on a sore backside as we ate dinner. Or worse, kaçak iddaa bent over the car, in the parking lot after dinner. Skirt up, panties down for an on the spot attitude correction. Some of those got pretty loud!Being submissive can be interesting, sometimes fun and, sometimes, just plain uncomfortable. Most of my black lovers knew how to keep this sissy in her place. Loving black cock can also get a black palm across your backside, not being attentive to your man, not being obedient, can make sitting uncomfortable for a few days. The one guy, who I called ‘Preacher’, was very aroused by giving someone a sore ass. He had no qualms about taking off his belt and whipping my ass with it. He wanted submission and tears before sex, I gave him both to get that beautiful black cock. The neighbors didn’t always hear sounds of lovemaking. The sound of a wooden or leather paddle, making contact with a bare bottom, can be loud as hell in a small apartment bedroom! The same applies to the bosses’ office. Getting it after work isn’t so bad – after everyone has gone home. Getting it while his secretary was still there, was embarrassing. Both of the ones who had used me became bolder over time. Bad enough mistakes, in my work, would find me called into the one’s office anytime, for correction. I’d have to sit and wait, under the watchful eye of his secretary, until he was ready. She would give me a smirking smile – as I went into his office then, another as I tried to walk normally, on the way out. The ‘corrections’ in the morning sucked; it meant I’d be sitting on a sore backside all day. It wasn’t too bad in a dress or skirt, the days I got it, when wearing tighter slacks, were worse. The secretary knew what went on. She could hear the sound of the paddle and, probably his palm, even though I tried to not make too much noise. There were times that she looked directly at my knees after – the knees of my slacks or stockings. She knew that, sometime during our little ‘meeting’, I’d either be bent over his desk getting fucked good or, kneeling to suck his thick black cock. On several occasions, the evidence of a blow-job would be dripped on my blouse; a few other times there was a blob of cum left in my hair that I missed. kaçak bahis I came to dread the visits, from the one black guy, to my little office. The paper or letter dropped casually on my desk – with the mistakes circled in red – then the squeeze on my shoulder or the firm pat to my backside and him saying, “I’ll see you in my office…promptly at four-thirty…young lady.” Waiting for it sucked. I had allowed it to happen, in both cases to keep my job. I didn’t mind the sex at all, I loved it! What came before sex, lighting a fire in my ass, wasn’t enjoyable at all. Most of the time my corrections were 100%; I would be punished for the first mistakes only. If the corrections weren’t 100% or I missed some…the punishment would last longer. After work, when the building was empty, my howling could probably be clearly heard. Occasionally there would be the couple who cleaned the offices. Those were the times that I rushed through the offices and out the door! As fast as I could manage with a sore aching ass!I went to several conferences with him, all out of town. I found out that I wasn’t the only PA being fucked by the boss – I was the only trans PA showing up. I was the only one (as far as I could tell) that spent time over the bosses’ knee.The white boss had his office in a different building from mine. He would use his secretary or another employee to deliver the ominous message that, “Mr. Allen wants to see you, in his office, after work.” That always sent a chill through me and, making the walk to his office, was like being sent to see the principal in school. Sometimes it was just for sex; other times (when I walked in to see the paddle lying on his desk or leaning on a chair) I knew that sitting would be uncomfortable for a while. I gave him what he wanted – as fast as I could. A river of tears, kicking and squealing like a girl then, simply howling my head off until he stopped. Although it turned him on to light a fire in my ass; he would stop when I got too loud and cried too much. He was a hugger and kisser after it was over. Lap time as I calmed down, hugging, kissing and fondling while I wiggled around on his rock hard cock then, a hard fucking before being sent home…cum stains and all. It was a long bus ride from either job, especially with a sore backside! On either of those jobs I was not only a slut but, with payment involved, a whore. The jobs were pretty good and I knew that I was getting more cock than their wives!

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