| From sissyboy to womanhood | |||
| Written by maid_katrin | |||
Early stages
 It is hard to find a start telling my story. It is quite sure that I was a sissyboy right from the beginning and I never had the chance to growing up as a real boy and man. I can not say when I felt this urge for being feminine the first time. May be I was 4 or 5 years old when I started to envy the girls for their dresses, the games they played and the way they was treated by their parents. It is a strange and confusing time growing up and developing a boy’s body while my mind was telling differently. There are only a few incidents I can recall – when I secretly put on one of my cousins dresses, all the time fearing to be discovered, when I pestered my granny to get my ears pierced – the wish has never been granted – when I persuaded my cousin – the same whose dress I had worn – to give me a skirt of her’s to wear it for a whole afternoon.I too can recall that I have been called names by the boys in the neighbourhood for preferring to play with the girls and their dolls instead of fighting and playing football. However, time passed by but not my desires. On the contrary, the older I grew the stronger I longed for feminine clothing and when the girls around me started to develop breasts my jealousy increased and when I had coped with my boyish body so far I suddenly started to hate it.
Clothing makes the sissyOf course it started with wearing panties and pantyhose easily to hide by masculine shirts and jeans but soon this wasn’t enough. Imagine you see a girl out in the streets with stylish clothes and accessories. You can not look like her but you can wear what she does. It is not the same but somehow it brings you closer o your dream. In my late teens wearing distinctive feminine items in public were out of question but a nice sweater, a blazer, side or back zipped slacks or jeans were a good way to express my desired femininity in public. Of course I had to learn that girls in particular are quite observing and attentive when it comes to clothes and so it was not even rare that I earned giggles and stares when out in the streets. Strangely enough being ridiculed and humiliated did not stop me walking along the streets in my girls clothing, it did not stop me having second thoughts buying stuff that wasn’t just at the edge to femininity but sometimes far beyond.Discovering BDSM I can not say whether my submissiveness was induced by my desire for being a female which I felt being denied. Yes, I think somehow I felt guilty for having those desires which were considered as not normal, even perverted. Can it be that I wished to be feminized by a strong Woman because I was too coward to reveal my true colours voluntarily? The earliest memories I can recall always turned around being taken captive, locked in heavy chains and forced to wear feminine clothing. I dreamed of being kept as a female slave, sold into servitude and the longer my imaginations remained unfulfilled to more intensive they became. Of course, always my captor and superior was a Female and since I felt enormously excited I started masturbating while fantasizing about being forcibly feminized. It is quite likely that my sexuality was irreversibly conditioned at that time.
Becoming a maid
Real serviceSo far I had just my fantasies and not the slightest clue what it really meant to be a maid in real life. Of course I could dress whenever possible, I found myself being punished when deserved but maids work is more than indulging in one’s obsessions. My Mistress is not in playing BDSM but rather living it. After a month being Her maid on a trial base I had to move in at Her place and everyday after coming home from work I s 
However, all of a sudden my life changed quite dramatically. At home I had to wear a steel collar locked around my neck, my ears were pierced and so were my nipples. Forced feminization was just a word, a fantasy so far but now I had to realize that my Mistress did not want to hide Her maid in the closet. Step by step my clothes changed and in the course of a few months I did not even own a pair of jeans that wasn’t made for women. Yet I was allowed slacks and blouses to work but it became quite obvious that all my clothes were distinctively female. Locked in chastityI will never forget the day I was taken to Neosteel to get fitted for my chastity belt. Of course it was my own wish to be locked in steel but it was also my Mistress’s condition for being Her maid. It was my most humiliating experience so far. Fully exposed with the steel collar locked to my neck, my nipples pierced and my hands cuffed behind my back I felt myself being measured – my hips, my crotch and yes, my pathetic little clitty as well. I felt so totally being owned when my Mistress was discussing the different styles with the belt maker. She did not leave any doubt that I was to be locked full time with no chance to be out of the belt other than for cleaning purposes.It took 6 weeks till the belt was finished eventually and another three months of adjustment till my Mistress started to lock me up full time.The chastity belt was the beginning of a new stage of my submission and feminization. I never liked that little clitty between my legs – even though I used it for my arousal from time to time, but now it was kept hidden under steel and since my Mistress did not gave me access to the keys it did not even belong to me any longer. Step by step I got used to be locked at all times in my merciless steel belt until I finally almost felt incomplete when it was taken off for cleaning. Yes, I felt like a real female without that little thingie dangling between my legs.
Marked as property for lifeMore and more I liked my situation and sometimes I felt like living in a dream and I had to pinch myself just to realize that everything was true – the belt, my female clothing and my work as a real maid.It was mutual agreement when my Mistress suggested to have me marked as Her property as which I really felt. Picking out an appropriate picture to be marked with took us a few months. Countless drafts and sketches were drawn but eventually we decided for a rose and my Mistress’s initial letters. The tattooist ought to be the best available and we had to wait for the appointment another two months.When the day arrived eventually I was quite nervous and I did not like the idea to be taken to the tattoo shop in full maids attire, with chastity belt and collar locked on. Luckily it was a very cold day so my maids dress could be covered by a coat. It is hard to describe when I had to take off the coat in front of the girl who was to do my tattooing. She was about in Her mid twenties and a mischievous smile was on Her face when She became aware of my dress and just a few minutes later the chastity belt I was locked in.
However, it was rather a friendly smile than a sneer so I calmed down and when the needle hit my skin the first time an exciting shiver ran down my whole body. Yes, the tattoo was really a piece of artwork and doing all the colouring took her about 2 hours. Amazingly the tattooing was not as bad as I had thought and halfway of the procedure I must have dozed off. It was a bit embarrassing when both my Mistress and the girl became aware of me being fallen asleep but in the end I was glad that it hardly did not hurt.Now with the sign of my Mistress irremovable stitched into my skin I felt really possessed.Workplace changes Time went on and with changes in my everyday clothing, my whole behaviour it was hard to hide what was happen to me. More and more I went out fully dressed and so the day came when it was unavoidable to reveal my true colours to the whole world. It would have been silly to believe that the people around me wouldn’t have realized that I was changing into a woman. For months I already had worn female clothing to work and even though it started in a rather subtle way by the time it had changed quite dramatically. The colours, the frills and accessories made clear that I was anything else than a straight man who was just borrowed a pair of jeans from his girl friend due to the lack of clean clothes. Actually for a transsexual coming out at work is probably the most crucial part of the transition as it touches one’s financial existence and I wouldn’t have been the first one to be given the sack for turning up in a dress or skirt. Even though my co-workers are quite open minded I felt well advised to announce the forthcoming change to my boss beforehand.
There were confusions for a few weeks of course but all in all the people got used to my new appearance quite well and in particular the Women at work were most accepting. Complete enslavementAfter a long journey I am now a complete sissy, a woman if you want to and most of all I am totally devoted to my Mistress. So have a look into my wardrobe and tell me, can this be the wardrobe of a man?
Just recently my Mistress found new toys to keep me fettered and chained most of the time.
To be continued ...
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It was just a matter of time that I discovered there is a BDSM scene and there’d be others like me. Sissies, transvestites and even transsexuals who had a strong submissive side. At first I could not believe that a few of them seriously lived their dreams in relationships with dominant Wives or Masters but the more I explored this scene the more I realized that my wish to become a mere maid and feminized slave was not impossible to be turned into reality. 
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