BY MIDNIGHT HIS BALLS WILL BE USELESS AS TINY SHRIVELED-UP PUMPKINS
Sissy Bella’s Fantasy Is Going To The Ball Tucked And Banded As Sissyfella
A Sissy’s Choice To Keep His Balls Or Finally Be Free
Sissy Bella has been tucked as tight as he is right now, many times in the past. But never have his balls first been double-banded by his Mistress, before the tucking process.
“Remember Sissy Bella, or should I call you Sissyfella? It’s eight pm right now. I’ll be dropping you off at the ball no later than nine. You’ll have until midnight to find your Princess.”
Sissy Bella is already having problems breathing, and he’s yet to be corseted. Mistress never holds back. She pulls his laces tighter every time. Tonight, like every other night, will be the tightest yet!
“I will be watching you, and you must achieve three goals before midnight if you want your balls un-banded before their color matches the black of your sleeves . . . permanently.”
The extremely tight silk purple panties are slid up his thighs and into place. Even though his cock is already tucked extremely tight, the addition of the three sizes too small panties crushes it even deeper into oblivion. This couldn’t be making Sissy Bella any happier than he already is.
“First, you must find your Princess and get her on the dance floor. Second, she needs to kiss you. No leaning in, that’s not this game. Third, her hand needs to slide from your fishnet stocking-covered knee, up your thigh, onto your naked flesh, and all the way to your tiny hidden toy. Do you understand Sissyfella?”
Sissy Bella is shaking as his dress is added over his flesh. The tightness, smoothness, beauty, and mystery of the purple satin and black velvet, take him into a world of erotic pleasures beyond belief.
{Slap!}
“Sissy! I asked you a question.”
“Oh, God. I am sorry Mistress! Please forgive me. You just take me to levels I can’t even explain.”
“Maybe you should just stay home. My Dungeon floor needs scrubbing and you could do it on your hands and knees until you make me happy or your balls finally die from lack of blood.”
“Mistress, please! I’m sorry! I do understand your three rules and really want to go to the ball. I’ll do anything you want.”
“Of course, you will do anything I want. You’re a Sissy and that’s what Sissies do. How about I just leave you hogtied overnight on the Dungeon floor? I’ve been seeing a lot more mice down there lately. One of them had a needle and some thread. I’m sure they’d love to help you with your dress.”
Sissy Bella starts to cry as he says, “Yes Mistress. Shall I head to the Dungeon now?”
“Turn around Sissyfella.”
He turns around to feel his Mistress’s knee pushing hard into his back, as she pulls the laces so tight, she’s grunting with every pull. It’s only a few tugs, and his waist is getting smaller, and his hips are pushing out, along with his breasts. He is feeling prettier by the second.
“Lucky for you, I spent so much fucking money on this dress, I can’t stand seeing it go to waste. And those shoes . . . I swear Sissyfella, if you end up losing one of those shoes tonight . . . you’ll end up walking like a ball-less Quasimodo!”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Yes, Mistress what? I’m not kidding! The massive square stiletto of the other one will get crammed up your ass and left there for the weekend.”
“Yes Mistress, I promise to not lose one of my shoes.”
“Now, Sissyfella, move over here for some pictures.”
It’s not Sissy Bella’s first dance or even prom, but his Mistress wanted a final set of pictures in case this is the last moment he still has balls. They may be tiny as hell and pretty much trained to be useless, but he still has balls, for now.
“That’s it, hold your ruffles. Left knee inward, lift your heel. Look to the left. No, just your head, eyes towards the camera. OK, tiny mouth, eyes curious and mysterious, and hold.”
{Click} {Click} {Click}
Mistress’s past skills from her part-time job at Sears photo studio live on.
“You can turn off the fog machine now Sissyfella. We gotta get you to the ball.”
Sissy Bella’s ass, thighs, tucked cock, and double-banded balls are pressed hard into the passenger seat of Mistress’s Malibu. For the ride, he’s her personal Barbie and Mistress . . . I guess she can be Ken since they’re both just as ball-less as Sissy Bella may soon be.
Mistress paid to have custom seat belts installed just for her passengers. There’s the normal waist and shoulder one, pulled extra tight. In addition, extras pulled tightly over his thighs, knees, around his calves, and ankles.
It doesn’t end there. There are even more belts across his stomach plus around his lower and upper chest. Lastly, one across his neck and an extra wide one that not only holds his head in place but also keeps him quiet.
If she crashes her Malibu, the only way Sissy Bella is getting out is attached to his seat.
Always thinking and caring about Sissy Bella’s needs, but never announcing them out loud, she finds ways to make him even happier, even in the middle of being bound, tortured, threaten, and more.
Before leaving, Mistress flips down the passenger side sun visor and opens the mirror so Sissy Bella can see himself. Seeing his eye shadow, blush, and bangs while being bound helpless, and in fear of possibly finally losing the very last of his manhood to his Mistress is a dream come true.
An addition of vibrating seats in her Malibu was an expensive modification, but well worth it. As mentally aroused as Sissy Bella already was, flipping her seat vibration to high was icing on Mistress’s cake.
Banded, tucked tight, with extra snug panties over the top, his cock and balls are squeezed smaller than they’ve ever been. Horny as hell and trapped firmly against the vibrating seat, there’s not a chance in hell that Sillyfella could cum, that’s if he could ever still cum even if not bound.
As a Sissy, the constant tucking and or progressively smaller chastity cage training slowly shrinks one’s manhood along with the ability to cum. Sissy Bella takes his level of Sissiness very seriously, therefore orgasms are close to being a thing of the past if it hasn’t already been achieved.
His goal of 100% effeminacy and complete emasculation is all he wants. To be dressed pretty, to have soft and smooth skin along with a loss of power and masculinity is all part of his dreams. His Mistress supports his goals in every way, often helping to push him further and faster than he can alone.
The vibrating seat is a constant reminder of having a cock that can’t or won’t orgasm, while at the same time, not having a vagina or clitoris, denying him of the most intense multiple orgasms another woman can have every day. His helpless mental frustration is a high like none other.
Pulling up to the front of the Main Hall, Sissyfella was soon to enter the ball.
Mistress turns to him and says, “You know Sissy, I kinda hope you don’t succeed. It’s time we put to rest any concerns or questions over you still having balls.”
Under his seatbelt gag, Sissy Bella couldn’t be smiling bigger about how much he is loved by his Mistress.
Popping open the passenger door, the red-shirted valet says in a wonderful Italian accent, “Hello pretty ladies. Let me help you out.”
Leaning over Sissy Bella, the nice-smelling valet calmly unbuckles the ten seatbelts in all, holding him in place.
Commenting to the Mistress, as his hand rests on Sissy Bella’s knee, the valet mentions, “You sure must care a lot about this one.”
As the valet leans back out, his hand slides from Sissy Bella’s knee to his mid-thigh, sending sparks of excitement into Bella’s already nervous stomach. When two of the valet’s fingers make flesh on flesh contact, just past the top edge of Sissy Bella’s fishnet stocking, he quickly pulls his hand away.
“I am so sorry Miss! Please forgive me.”
Sissy Bella quickly replies in his soft and quieter voice, “It’s ok, thank you for helping me out.”
With that, the valet holds out his open hand, so Sissyfella gets his chance to be the Princess being helped out of her carriage. Between his normal height and his eight-inch heels, Sissy Bella is looking down at the valet, who can’t help but stare at his chest, because they’re eye level.
“Forgive me if I’m out of line,” says the valet, “but you are the most beautiful thing my eyes have seen today, and you’re going to make a very lucky someone very happy.”
Mistress replies, “He already has. I’m the lucky someone and Sissyfella makes me very happy.”
As calm, cool, sexy, and beautiful as Sissy Bella looks on the outside, to all the guests of the ball who can’t stop staring at her, on the inside, he’s a complete and utter wreck of nerves, panic attacks, and frustrations.
Stand tall, balance, don’t slip off his shoes, smile, smile again, nod, curtsy, why the hell did he just curtsy to a plant? Is his makeup running? How’s his hair? Did the wig tip make his bangs go uneven? Smile, smile, and fucking smile. Mouth is hurting, can barely breathe! Don’t pass out! Can’t feel his balls! Are they already dead?
Whispers surround him as he searches for his Princess. He must find his Princess, or the double bands will not come off. He must dance with his Princess or his balls will be lost forever. If she doesn’t slide her hand from his knee to his panties, his Mistress will once and forever complete his emasculation.
With every oh-so-cautious step, the soft and silky ruffles of his skirt rub ever so lightly against his naked upper thighs. As much pleasure as this brings, with it comes anxiety. How smooth is his flesh? Did the hair removal work as needed? Did Sissy Bella miss any spots?
The feel of the snug tops of his fishnet stockings hug his thighs lovingly, but are they even? The tightest corset he’s ever worn is helping to lift his breasts, but are they even? He spent hours plucking his eyebrows, but are they even? Oh, God! He’s about to pass out!
Mistress’s hand reaches under his back ruffles and squeezes his ass hard. “You’re doing the ‘are they even’ thing, aren’t you?”
“Yes Mistress, I’m sorry, I’ll stop.”
“So far Sissy Bella, the best-looking guy coming in or out, was that valet. You should have pretty good luck finding a Princess of your very own. By the way, you need to work your glutes more for your Mistress. I want to be able to do that quarter bounce thing.”
Mistress disappears as quickly as she appeared, leaving Sissy Bella, for the rest of tonight, Sissyfella to enjoy his time at the ball . . . if only it was that easy. He tries to remember, he’s here to find a Princess, his Princess for the night. Without first finding her, that tiny bit of tingle he still feels in his balls will be gone forever.
“Hey baby, wanna get lucky?”
“How about a Devil’s Triangle? Bet you’d like two-on-one?”
“As long as I get to fuck her first.”
“Dude, she has more than one hole . . . we can both go first.”
“Um . . . I’m sorry guys . . . but I’m looking for someone.”
“Well, lucky for you hot stuff, because two some ones just found you.”
“Really . . . no . . . I’m not into that Devil stuff.”
“It’s not Devil stuff, pretty girl. Nor is it a drinking game, as that one guy claimed at his hearing.”
“Why didn’t someone just fucking Google it? I still don’t get it.”
“I know, it’s two guys on one girl. It’s been two guys on one girl for as long as I know.”
“Plus it was written on his calendar, that he brought in, and it matched his handwriting perfectly. Bullshit I tell you! Just bullshit!”
Sissyfella was a good ten feet away before they realize she walked away.
“Hey! Bitch! Get your cunt back over here!”
They move way quicker than Sissyfella can in her eight-inch platform stilettos and catch him in less than two seconds. One has his hand up and under Sissyfella’s skirt and is sliding his hand between his thighs. Tucked so tight, with even tighter panties over the top, he has no idea he’s trying to rape a Sissy.
The other unwelcomed and soon-to-be sorry fuck, has his hands wrapped around the smallest part of Sissyfella’s corset and is dry-humping the side of his thigh.
“Stop it . . . please . . . please don’t.”
“Did you hear anything?”
“I just heard her say, fuck me, fuck me now.”
They drag Sissyfella against his wishes down an empty hallway and towards the nearest door. Their path is blocked by Sissyfella’s Mistress, who is holding two very long-stemmed, glasses of red wine.
“Oh, looky . . . seems our Devil’s Triangle will have to wait. It’s gonna be a foursome.”
Mistress calmly asks, “Do either of you know where the closest ER is?”
“Um, yeah. There’s one about a mile away . . .”
Using just her thumbs, she snaps off the top of the two glasses a second before cramming the freshly broken stems into the front of their thighs. They both drop to the floor as their blood mixes with the wine, creating quite a beautiful swirling effect.
Mistress walks Sissyfella back to the middle of the ballroom floor, just as “So This Is Love”, by Al Hoffman, Jerry Livingston, and Mack David starts to play. Enjoying the moment, while trying to slow his breathing. That is the little bit of breathing he can do. Sissyfella closes his eyes and imagines that iconic scene of Princess and Prince.
“You have less than an hour left Sissyfella . . . less than an hour before the stroke of midnight.”
Slowly opening his eyes, with the plan to thank his Mistress, he comes eye to eye with the most beautiful Redhead he’s ever seen. She has a massive amount of red wavy hair that cascades to the middle of her back. She asks, “Are you ok? I saw those two guys dragging you off. I’m so glad your leather-clad friend brought you back out here.”
Sissyfella stands motionless if you don’t count his randomly shaking body. He is speechless by her beauty . . .
“Sure, I’d love to dance. My name is Merida, by the way. What’s yours?”
Taking charge, Merida grabs his hand, and waist, and goes right into leading. Without hesitation, Sissyfella allows her to control him, just as he prefers. “I’m . . . Sissyfella.”
“Nice to meet you, Sissyfella. That’s a very nice name. I need to admit something, Sissyfella. I’ve been watching you since the minute you came in, with that other girl. Is she . . . your girlfriend?”
This is all happening so fast. So fast that he just now realized, he’s accomplished his first goal. Technically, his “Princess” found him, but they are currently dancing, so this has to count.
“No, she is my Mistress, my everything, my only purpose for existing.”
“Um, that’s pretty intense there Sissyfella. Sounds like the deepest of true love. But I must disagree because you have at least two purposes. The second one is dancing with me. Are you ready for the dip?”
She didn’t give him a chance to answer, nor did she allow him to fall on his ass. This fiery redhead is as strong as a bear . . . and also quite brave. Merida proves that by going in for a kiss on his way back up.
It’s a beautiful, long, and passionate kiss that lasts till the end of the song. Sissyfella holds still, while Merida finally ends their lip embrace, commenting, “My, you have very soft lips, Sissyfella.”
The awkward silence is broken, but the squealing of tires outside. It seems asshole one and asshole two made it to their car and are on the way to the ER . . . fuckers.
She asks, “Sissyfella, should we find someplace a little less, middle of the ballroom floor?”
“I need to first thank you for the dance . . . and the kiss. You have even softer lips.”
“That’s not what my brothers say . . .”
Zote: (a Zatanna Note) Don’t worry, I’m not going there.
“ . . . sometimes when we fight, and they gang up on me, my only option is to bite my way out from under the pile. They say I have the mouth of a wolf.”
Reaching out to hold Sissyfella’s hand, Merida says, “Only if you wish to come with.”
Putting his hand in hers is all the consent she needed, to pull him quickly off the floor and into a quieter and very private room. Somehow Merida seemed to know, this was the room with the purple satin and black velvet loveseat in a darkened corner.
Sissyfella couldn’t help but wonder, which came first? This loveseat, or his dress? As fancy and high-end as this room and loveseat are, Merida goes with the laid-back and comfortable approach of doing a jump turn to land on one half.
Slapping her hand on the seat next to her, she adds, “Put that fine ass of yours right here Sissyfella.”
As much as his playful side would love to copy her jump turn, he knew in these heels, he’d end up dead trying. Doing the most graceful of runway turns, he sits down beside her. He planned to continue looking as beautiful and ladylike as possible.
Had he not been sitting on an extra low loveseat, while wearing extra high heels, he may have achieved his goal. The problem is, with this awkward combination, he looked as ladylike as you can while using a Squatty Potty.
Merida lets out a giggle, before jumping back up, kneeling in front of him, and offering to take off his heels. As hesitant as Sissybella is about having them removed, for fear of losing one, he nervously agrees.
“Why so nervous Sissybella? I’m sure you have very sexy feet.”
Earlier today, he had a manny petty and his nails perfectly match the purple of his dress, so that wasn’t the concern at all.
“My Mistress warned me to not lose either of my shoes, or she would punish me for it.”
“Wow, well, that’s not going to happen because you’re going to put both of them right up on your end table. They’ll stay within arms reach, so there’s nothing to worry about Sissyfella.”
Glancing up at the grandfather clock, one that someone drew comically large eyes and a smile on with a thin mustache, Sissyfella sees it’s a quarter to midnight. If he doesn’t finish his third goal in the next fifteen minutes, his balls, which he can barely feel, will be gone.
As much as he wants this to continue, concerns over what’s happening is more important. “Why are you being so nice to me Merida? Until I met my Mistress, I’d been mistreated, taunted, teased, and very often tricked so others can laugh at me. Is this a prank?”
Putting her hand on his knee, Merida stares him in the eyes and says, “Look at me Sissyfella. Hold your head high, and look at me in my eyes.”
With his lack of confidence holding him back, he struggles to do so but finally looks deeply into her eyes.
“Sissyfella, I can promise you, this is not a prank. Ever since you’ve walked in, I’ve wanted to check if your purple was an exact match for this loveseat or not? And now I know. You can go now if you want.”
Sadly, Sissyfella starts to get up, before she pulls him back down. “I’m kidding! I wanted you, and me, to be alone on this loveseat, and now, here we are.”
She rests her hand on his knee as he sees the Grandfather clock has reached seven minutes to bandstration.
“Merida, you need to know something first . . .”
She interrupts, “I know you’re a Sissy and that’s ok. I knew since you walked in.”
Frustrated and upset, Sissyfella says, “I knew I wasn’t pretty enough to fool anyone.”
“Are you kidding me? You are pure beauty! Hell, those two guys sure thought so. Did you see their hard-ons for you?”
“Unfortunately, yes. I even had the displeasure of feeling one of them.”
Merida explains, “I didn’t know you were a Sissy because of how you looked. I knew because of my eyes, ears, and nose. I may not have the lips of a wolf, but I have his other three senses.”
Her hand has traveled upwards along his fishnet-covered flesh, and is just leaving the top edge, and onto his naked thigh. She stops and asks, “Can I see? . . . It’s ok . . . please?”
Nervous about his upper thighs not being smooth enough, and worse yet, did he possibly miss any underbrush he couldn’t find with a mirror? She has been so wonderful in so many ways. He willingly spreads his knees and lifts his ruffles, so she has a clear view of his purple silk panties.
She notices the one tiny wet spot, which he’s unaware of. “From where I come from, we call those Sissy Tears.”
What might be Sissyfella’s final drop of pre-cum, exited from him in peaceful, unfeeling, silence. He didn’t feel it and was completely unaware it happened. He’s even more nervous, but Merida once again, calms his Sissy Soul.
“This is fucking beautiful Sissyfella! Everything is so perfectly smooth, silky tight, and clean. You do a very good job of maintaining your house.”
With less than three minutes to go, he realizes something that causes even more panic! Did he need to find an actual Princess? Or is that just a pet name Mistress used? But then he remembers, something Mistress told him years ago:
“Deep inside of everyone, is a Princess, just waiting to come out.”
Which would have been the most beautiful and motivational comment ever, had she not added a follow-up sentence.
“Except for those slutty Princesses. In that case, everyone is inside of them, just waiting to cum deep inside their mouths, cunts and assholes.”
Mistress has always had such a wonderful way with words. And based on her words, one way or another, Merida is a Princess, and her hand on his crotch will count! Only two minutes left, and only two inches to travel! Her hand is ever so slowly sliding, but math class tells Sissyfella, she’ll arrive on time! His balls will be saved!
The clock’s hand is moving towards one minute, and Sissyfella looks up to see, his Mistress in the distance, watching his every move. A warm rush of emotions of love, caring, pain and pleasures, hits him all at once! Like nothing he’s ever felt before, and he worries, it may be nothing he’ll ever feel again.
Merida’s strong fingers are just centimeters away from the edge of his panties! The second hand of the clock is on its way up . . . less than thirty seconds to go!
Looking to Merida, he says, “You have no idea exactly what it would mean to me, to have you touch me there, but . . .”
With his right hand, he stops hers, while keeping eye contact with his Mistress. He sees her and she sees him . . . as he pushes one of his shoes off the backside of the end table . . . and smiles.
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