This is an absolutely true story taken from my life's journey as a Transsexual slave woman. I've lived full time for over twenty years now.
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As I write this my Mistress is in the bedroom with one of her many Black Bulls. Her screams of lust and orgasm reverberating through the house as he grunts and thrusts himself into her hot sweet womanhood, a pleasure I will never be allowed since she finds my TS clit (she calls it my wee wee or my worm) far to small and laughable to ever consider allowing me to enter her. I just finished fluffing him and putting the tip of his rock hard cock at the entrance to her pulsing womanhood and she told me to get lost until she wanted me again. I know I will be summoned in a while to clean them both completely using only my mouth, eating his massive loads of cum from her dripping pussy and sucking him clean as well while they either ignore me or make fun of me. While I can hear them fucking though I will write this first entry about my life and my current slavery to my Goddess Mistress April.
I couldn't be happier...
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When I was very young I never, ever, would have thought that I would one day end up in my current situation. Never mind completely loving it. But here I am, a 60 something full time transsexual woman living with a Dominatrix as her cuckold 24/7/365 totally owned slave girl.
It might be a good idea to give you a bit of my history before continuing though...
Like most Transsexuals I started showing signs of my gender issues at a very young age. I seldom played sports, preferred to stay in with my mother and sew, cook and knit. My father tried very hard to get me to enjoy the more manly activities but all I ever wanted was to play house with my dolls and every girl activity there was. I was teased growing up and soon started hiding what I was and pretended to be like the other boys all the while envying the girls who could express themselves in the manner I considered normal.
Oh yes... I was also very infatuated with boys. One in particular who took a shining to me at a very young age and made himself my protector through most of grade school. He was actually a big strong jock and my life was much easier due to him since no one at all ever wanted to cross him. I fell head over heels in love with him and he didn't discourage it at all. He even made several passes at me as we got older and more than once I shared his bed and cuddled in his arms watching TV and making out.
As time went by though he and I lost touch and like all of us I grew up, got jobs and tried to make it in the vanilla world as an everyday man. Got married, had 2 beautiful children and as the years went by became more and more depressed. Not due in any way to my family mind you but exclusively due to the fact that internally I knew I was a woman. Something I thought I could never let out fully.
So in private I explored my feminine side. Believing myself to be gay I actually found a gay bath house in the city (Boston) where I worked and became an active, and popular, young member there. During my life I have had sex with so few women I can count them on one hand... men on the other hand I lost count of long ago. Especially during the years at that bath house where I would spend several hours a few nights each week blowing countless men and being fucked by just as many. It's a wonder I got past those times without any diseases. To my credit though I always insisted on protection. The men there would always be asking for me when they arrived and even lined up at times outside my cubicle to fuck me.
I slowly began to reveal both to the world around me as well as to myself that I was a woman inside. I was treated as a girl by all of the men in the bathhouse in all ways and at all times. I was very popular as a result and gang-banged on numerous occasions.
Which I simply adored being the cock slut nymphomaniac that I am.
But lets fast forward to the not so distant past.
I had developed an interest in BDSM. Initially as a Dominatrix but soon realized I was anything but. I didn't want to tell others what to do, I wanted to be used and controlled. The fact is having always been in hiding, demure, frightened by the world around me and having had a strong protector and lover in childhood I really wanted to be under the control of a strong willed person.
Of course I always expected that to be a man.
Then I met my Mistress April.
I was at a local BDSM club. One that was very extreme and required a private invitation even to get in the door. The invitation itself took months to get and I was finally entering the door of the club which turned out to be in an old, all but abandoned, warehouse near the Boston docks. Needless to say I was rather nervous. Here I was, a now full time Transsexual woman, extremely submissive, entering a completely unknown environment with what I anticipated (and was correct to do so) were very hardcore Dominatrices and slaves.
I was dressed as sexy as possible. Very low cut black blouse showing my full 38 C breasts (many years on female hormones will do that), a very short black skirt, black fishnet stockings with shining black stiletto heels, my long blonde hair (all natural) free flowing and down to my mid back and my makeup, while demure and soft, striking and very slutty. I wondered if I would find compatible people or just get raped. Part of me, I think, hoped for both.
At the top of the stairs I came to an unmarked door what opened when I tried it and I found myself in a short hall with a gruff looking man sitting at a desk before another door.
"Name?" was all he said barely looking up at me and looking at a roster.
"s-slave m-m-marie" I stuttered.
I detected the hint of a grin and he reached out and pressed a button on the desktop. The door behind him buzzed. I hesitated and he commanded "Get your ass in there now!"
Pointing at the door with a scowl.
I jerked forward and opened the door.
What met my eyes I will never forget.
The beating of very primal music as well as the sound of women's voices wafted down the short hall before me which ended with a dark red curtain across the far door. I could also detect softer male voices occasionally in very mute tones. Some seemed to be in pain. As I passed through the curtain I immediately saw a small room with tables against the wall and several deliciously beautiful women in the most dynamic black leather outfits you could ever imagine. My little shemale pee pee twitched in my panties as they turned to me. They all looked a tiny bit confused by my outfit until I spoke. "G-Good evening ladies" I mumbled. All of them broke into laughter as they realized I was a transsexual slave. Everywhere I looked there were men kneeling, crawling on leashes, licking high heeled boots, serving, servicing and suffering for their Mistresses. These women instantly ignored me as I walked past them into the larger hall beyond. Smirking in derision at the lowly slave girl passing them. One actually tried to trip me and they burst out in laughter again as I stumbled.
This was a Female Supremacy group where every male was a slave and no female submissives were allowed, which is what made them pause when I entered. Even the male slaves seemed confused by me and didn't know how to treat me at first. This was fine with me though since I was still trying to take all of this in. I was such a newb at that time.
The walls were lined with full sized crosses and racks of floggers, whips and toys I didn't recognize, chains hanging everywhere with cuffs and restraints of all kinds, a large table with a naked man laying face up bound to all four corners while two women took turns teasing him and stroking his erect cock bringing him close to orgasm and then stopping and laughing at him while he begged for release. They did this over and over again while I watched wide eyed. Actually every device in sight had a naked man attached to it and dozens of stunning women all enjoying themselves with their plights.
I stood there mesmerized for well over an hour. During this time not a single person approached me or spoke to me. I felt totally helpless and had no idea what to do at all. I was actually about to run out the door when I heard a voice behind me.
A heavenly voice. One that made me want to fall to my knees instantly with it's glorious tones and slight touch of evil. A voice I have grown to love over the many years I have been her slave and one I am always willing to go to great lengths just to hear once again.
"Hello my dear".
I jerked in surprise that someone had spoken to me and turned quickly to see the most stunning woman I had ever seen in my life. She stood before me with her long flowing curly brown hair, penetrating green eyes and simple makeup that nonetheless made her overwhelming beautiful. Her jet black leather outfit and thigh high black leather boots were drop dead gorgeous and the crop in her hand didn't escape my notice either. Nor did the cuffs and coiled whip on her thigh. My eyes immediately dropped. I didn't dare stare into this woman's eyes. I was dumbfounded and could barely breathe.
She smirked, listening to my panting gasps and slowly circled me. Looking me up and down without a word for a few minutes. Running her painted nails deliciously over my shoulders slowly, caressing my hair, gently scratching my half naked arms, wrapping her arms around my midsection while she rotated around me, squeezing my tender breasts softly at first and then with more force and finally looking me straight in the face, saying...
"Look me in the eyes!"
I looked at her, struggling not to lower my eyes again instinctively.
"Your not a real girl?"
I stuttered, almost whimpering "I wasn't born one Ma'am but..."
"ENOUGH!"
