degradedsissy1: For much of its life it had tried to imagine it’s wedding day. But this is not
degradedsissy1: For much of its life it had tried to imagine it’s wedding day. But this is not what it had ever envisaged! As puts the finishing touches to its makeup, and feels the redundant remnants of its former pretensions to manhood stir impotently inside the steel chastity belt into which it has been constantly locked, for over a year, it contemplates what might have been. Instead of waiting at the altar, in a finely tailored mourning suit, waiting for its beautiful blushing bride, it will be mincing down the aisle, it’s waist tightly corsetted in a revealing white silk and lace bridal gown, that exposes its long shaved legs, sheathed In sheer, white, lace-top stockings and its feet encased in white stilettos. As it minces down the aisle, past the invited guests, it will see those of its family and friends who have stood by it. Many have deserted it, but those who remain are those on whom it can truly count. They still find it difficult to reconcile the emasculated sissy it has become, with the, at least outwardly, confident young man it masqueraded as. They don’t fully understand the direction it has taken; the choices it has made, nor the lifestyle it has adopted. However, they try to. They accept it for what it is, even if it. Is sometimes difficult for them not to feel bemusement, and even pity. As it walks down the aisle, in its stiletto heels, with its exposed stocking encased legs brushing sensuously against each other, it will be overcome with intense feelings vulnerability, as many will see it, as its sissy self for the first time. Instead of a blushing bride, it will be burning with shame. But on its journey to where it is now, it had learned to embrace shame. It will want to have reconciled itself with the intensity of this shame, for once it reaches the end of the aisle it will be met by a man - a man who will become its husband, but more significantly, it’s owner. It is not attracted to men, but somehow submitting itself to a man -a real man - feels right. It’s family and friends find this hard to reconcile. Many have just internalised that it’s gay, but in denial. Perhaps they would have found it easier if it were gay. But it’s not. Why would it take the even more dramatic step of coming out as a submissive sissy, which has little social acceptance, but deny being gay, which has widespread social acceptance, these days, if it were actually attracted to men Once at the altar, it will not stand next to the man it is about to marry, but drop to its stockinged knees, in a submissive position and it will look up at its man subserviently. It’s marriage vows will not be vows of mutual love and respect. They will be vows of submission to a life of ownership by another; a life of unquestioning servility and docile compliance; a life of menial domesticity and unquestioning sexual subordination and compliance. Once the vows are compete, instead of it placing a ring over the finger of its bride, as it envisaged, it will, still on its stockinged knees, allow a man whom it will serve for the rest of its life, to fit a custom made, snugly fitted, high grade polished steel collar around its slender, effeminate neck. As the lock is clicks, it will have to start coming to terms with the heavy steel collar, that will be a permanent fixture around its neck for the remainder if it’s life. It’s width and weight will a,ways make its presence felt, but it will also have a psychological presence, as its unavoidable visibility advertises the sissy’s status, as the subservient property of another, to all. It will then wait for the man, whose property it will now be, to affix a leash and pull it to its feet and be led out of the building by him, as its vanilla friends and family look on, some privately cringing but trying to to show it, wondering how a relatively successful and outwardly confident young man became such an emasculated, feminised, pitiful, chattel to another man. As it grovelingly minces along, in tow, behind its new owner, it will start to contemplate the life time of subservience; of public humiliation; of stares, whispers, derision and social ostracisation ahead of it. It will by now know that, not only does it not have any other choice, but has never since, as a young boy, it first slipped a paint of its sister’s stockings up its legs out of innocent curiosity, had any other choice. As it sprays itself with sweet feminine perfume and caresses its stocking sheathed thighs one more time, it leaves the bathroom and prepares to mince down the aisle for its appointment with destiny. I can’t wait to walk down the asle as a beautiful bride…..with all my family and friends there to celebrate…especially my exwife…. -- source link