"My Beloved, I am your dedicated lover and I will do anything for you. I thank you for letting me make this web site, where I can feel the whole world watching me. Everything I do here is for you, Beloved. And in pleasing you, I am pleased." My voice sounded a bit tinny in the cheap computer speakers. I knew I was displayed while the voice spoke: sometimes in my silk and frills, sometimes tied, sometimes in a group. I never knew which photo was displayed but they all had one theme. The words "Slut Sissy" splashed across the page.
My Beloved never let me look. This was the homepage to a website she and I had been building for a while. Down the left side the links to videos we had made piled up in quite a stack. My Beloved teases that we'll have to add a second layer of links: the bondage videos, the cross-dressing videos, the maid videos and like that. On the upper right was an announcement box announcing the time of the next live show.
The funny part is that I hated making these films, yet I made them anyway. I wasn't madly in love; I don't like dressing up as a girl; I don't like masturbating in front of a camera. And yet I did all these things and more. Lots more. And I do not know why. We had been dating, and then one day, she had The Voice. The Voice I could not refuse.
The first time we made a video, she did not explain what was going on. She dressed me carefully in my frilly little sissy outfit: a short pleated skirt, and a simple button down blouse. White over the knee socks and brown penny loafers. She had done my make up to contrast with the innocence of my outfit. She kept my eyebrows plucked at all times. She had shaped my eyes with bold strokes of blue and green mascara on the lids and a thick black outline below the eye. A bold splash of red along my cheekbones offset the bright red of my lipstick. Altogether I looked like a middle school slut.
As she set up the camera and the computer, I sat up on the stool she had for me to sit on. There was a website up on the screen. As soon as I saw it, I forgot everything else and just stared. My Beloved had set up a web page dedicated to me. The background was of me: bound spread-eagled on the bed, dressed only in stockings, two frilly garters, and panties, blindfolded. I remembered the night but had no idea that she had photographed me. There was a small box with 578 written in it. The computer beeped loudly and the number went to 579.
Looking back, it's hard to imagine that I felt embarrassed when she told me that these were the people joining up in a chat room to watch a live sex show for free. She'd been advertising it on the web for a few days now. It was scheduled to begin in just a few minutes.
"I know you don't really want to do this, do you?" A fairly significant understatement, but ever since My Beloved showed up, I have not been able to refuse her.
"But that's okay, isn't it?" I stared and then she said in that voice I cannot refuse: "Answer me, Sissy Bitch." That was her name for me. When she called me that name, I had to answer.
"Yes."
"Answer properly!"
"Yes, My Beloved."
"Properly." She twisted one of my nipples, pretty hard.
"Yes, My Beloved, it is okay that I don't want to do this."
"And why is that?" Her voice dripped with smug confidence.
"Because what I want doesn't matter. All that matters is what you want."
"Yes!" She let go.
The computer beeped twice more in a row. There were now 923 people in the chat room. Almost a thousand people to watch me be humiliated by My Beloved.
"Let's get started. Go along with everything I say or it will get worse for you." She turned to the camera as her image appeared on the screen. I was visible in the background over her shoulder. "Let me welcome you to our first public performance. Sissy Bitch and I have been waiting for this, haven't we?" I nodded in my shame. A thousand people! And then it got worse.