The Gift

A sissy sextoy would make such a lovely gift.  And being a sissy sextoy is such a lovely gift as well.  Combine the two and…

(This is a quick little fantasy piece I wrote some years ago as an actual gift to an individual I'd chatted with. We both "met" online in the Second Life online virtual world where we shared our TG transformation fantasies.)

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The Gift

I shift my weight around again.  I'm not uncomfortable in this position but nor am I comfortable either.  I wish I could see what was going on around me.  Or hear what was going on.  The only thing I can see are the images being played on the goggles strapped over my eyes.  The only thing I can hear is the voice of my master.

The images are of beautiful cocks and handsome men and beautiful tgurls pleasing those cocks and those men.  Over and over and over.  My master's picture is among the images.  My picture is among the images.  There are too many other men included for me to pick out any single one for me to figure him as my man for this time.  There are women in the images to.  Women being served by beautiful tgurls, beautiful sissies, beautiful shemales.  I'm in those images to.  I'm also in the images of the tgurls serving all those sexy shemales as well.  All about service.  All about submission.

The headphones covering my ears are telling me that.  "Submit," "Serve," "Pleasure Your Superiors" my Master keeps telling me.  His voice is so wonderful.  So powerful.  So commanding.  So dominant.  Just hearing him speak turns me on.  Knowing that in my pleasing others I will be pleasing him turns me on as well. 

I yearn for my trip to be over soon.  Over so that I am "delivered."  Over so that my Master's "gift" is received.  For that is what I am now - a gift.  A gift all nicely packaged and ready to be received by whomever my Master has given me to.

It has been a while getting me to this point.  

My Master has helped me so much.  My body has been reshaped.  I'm all smooth and curvy and soft and feminine now.  Fair skinned and hairless from my thinned and arched eyebrows all the way down to my painted toenails.  Not a hair down there is left.  All smooth and silky and satiny.  No tan lines either.  All rather pale and feminine.  Whether I stay that way or become a bronzed beauty is not up to me.  What ever pleases my new owner is what it will be.  My nipples harden at that thought.  

Pleasing my new owner. 

Sighing around the long hollowed cock shaped gag deep in my throat, I shift again and try to rub myself more on the long hollowed dildo placed deep in my rear.  I'm impaled on both ends and love it.  It's only because I'm also securely strapped in that I can't rub myself on that dildo to the point I climax.  As it is, the fullness of it and the utter subjugation of my position turns me on terribly.  My feminized cock can only ooze more of its watery precum in response.

Positioned carefully and securely, hooked around the base of my small and always soft cock and my much reduced testes, the sleeve encompassing my girly cock collects that precum as it flows.  I know that when I have to void my bladder it will collect that to.  This has been no short delivery.  I'm too securely rigged in my container here.  For all I know, I could just be getting driven around a bit to disorient me and wind up just across the street from my Master's house.  Or, I could headed off across the oceans to some foreign land.

My mind wanders at the possibilities as the images of cocks and dominant men and pussies and dominant women and cocks and dominant shemales and of me serving them all in my feminized state continues to flash before my eyes.  Perhaps I'll wind up in some wealthy man's country estate mansion back east.  A sex toy sissy for his upper class deviant guests.  Perhaps I'll be delivered to some kinky downtown bordello to work as a tgurl whore.  Maybe I'll be delivered to be some powerful man's arm candy trophy wife.  Or maybe the body servant of some powerful businesswoman who's tired of dealing with men who only want her money.  My mind reels at the possibility of becoming part of some Arab prince's harem.  Such a stereotypical fantasy but I linger in it for a while imagining I can feel the desert heat upon my sensitive flesh already.

I float on this way for some time.  I'm roused from my dreamlike state by my Master's voice and a buzzing in the background.  More awake, I realize he's telling me to drink.  To submit to the fluid soon to come through the cock gag.  I squeeze my hands in response and soon I feel the liquid sloshing down into me.  I've no idea what it is.  The gag's opening is to far back in my throat for me to taste.  It could be just water or perhaps some nutrient mix or what ever.  The only control I have over any of this is signaling I'm aware enough to receive it.  Gagging or choking would not be good in this position.  Shortly, I begin to feel that familiar warmth begin to spread through me.  I feel my girly cock pulse at this.  I know that there must've been something in what ever that liquid was even as it refreshed me.  I know I'll soon be floating even deeper in my dreamstate and that I'll be even more receptive to what ever images are flashing before my eyes and what ever messages my Master is speaking deeper into my mind.  I drift off happily at this realization.

Later, how much later I know not, I become more aware of my situation again.  The soft and smooth padding encasing me.  The lack of pressure points upon my flesh as I am encased in my container.  In my gift box.  The images of beautiful tgurl submission are still flashing before me.  The messages of beautiful sissy submission are still speaking into my mind.  The cock gag is still deep in my throat.  The dildo still deep in my rear.  I am still encased and waiting to be delivered to my new owner.  "Ohhhh...." I sigh again around the dildo, "my new owner..."  And, eventually, the cycle repeats.  I drift off lightly into a submissive haze of bliss only to be slightly roused to be ready to receive more fluids.  The liquid flows into me and I drift deeper.  The only thing I notice different from these cycles is that the tgurls in the images now all seem to have bigger breasts.  Or maybe they don't.  It's so hard to tell as I drift along through cycle after cycle of images of voices of drinking the liquids.  My pleasure is always there.  Never peaking, never going away.

A new sensation awakens me.  A vague feeling of sudden sharpness in one of my taut and femininely curved ass cheeks.  Quickly, I become aware of something new - pressure.  I feel pressure on my body.  On my knees.  On my hip bones.  On my stomach.  On my ribs.  On my breasts.  On my face.  My mind swirls.  I shift my weight and realize I can actually move more than fractions of an inch.  I realize I'm laying on my stomach.  That the pressure I feel is that of my own body's being on the floor on my stomach.  I struggle to clear my mind and focus my eyes.  A distant part of my mind is pondering why my vision is so clear and not clouded or hindered by the lights being too bright or too dim.  

All of that is washed away by the image before me.  My heart leaps at what I see.  Sitting there, regally, before me, with a possessive and wicked smile is my new owner.  Suddenly, helplessly, gloriously, I feel my climax wash over me!  My new owner!  Finally!  My feminized, girlish voice, rises in a nearly strangled moan as the ecstasy explodes through me.  My girly cock tingles and I feel the all to familiar wet spot form around it.

My new owner.  I have been delivered to my new owner.  Oh... yes....