Wealthy Sissy Surrender Station


Fire immediately engulfed the house just next door after an earth shaking explosion rocked the neighborhood. Fear was setting in. The rebels were getting closer and closer, Inch by inch. Relentlessly. Terror crept in as silhouettes and shadows extended deeper into the darkness with sudden flashes of light exposing their footsteps. I held my breath and cowered in the corner of the room. Shock waves riddled the streets. Please, let this end. Another bombardment shook the ground pushing me around and tossing loose paper in the air. I started to cry and that’s when the pamphlet slowly fell into my lap.

“The Wealthy Sissy Surrender Station.” I opened it.

W.S.S.S. was created to facilitate the surrender of all sissies and femboys within the northern district. This specialized compound helps serve the needs of our soldiers who live a particular lifestyle. Their way of life requires a specific type of servitude including a high scale income which is why only wealthy sissies will be taken. Details are listed below . . .

1.) Applicants must come from a family worth $500,000 or more and must be over the age of 18.

2.) Applicants must fit the following descriptions . . .

– Petite (small framed) stature.

– Very shy, timid and easily frightened.

– Must have what is known as a ‘Faggy’ voice.

– Fear (feelings of intimidation) of big, strong men.

– A passive, submissive demure.

– A frilly demure.

– Blush easily.

– Physically weak.

– Gentle attitude.

– Feminine attitude.

– Loving spirit.

APPEARANCE: To avoid threat level confusion and to make identification easier all applicants are to approach the facility as follows . . .

3.) Clothing . . .

– 5 inch pink high heels.

– Very short black mini skirt.

– Pink low cut top.

– Bright pink nail polish (Fingers and toes).

– Jewelry optional.

– (Do NOT wear panties).

– (Do NOT bring a handbag as that will be seen as a potential threat.)

4.) Make up . . .

– Bright pink lip stick.

– Light blue eye shadow.

– Black mascara.

– Black eyeliner.

– Any type of foundation and blush.

5.) Skin care . . .

– All body hair is to be fully shaven from the face down.

– Legs are to be lotioned and oiled.

Directions . . .

The facility is located on M Street, 1 mile south of the northern sector ‘no mans land’ security check point.

NOTE: Applicants Are to bring no possessions whatsoever other than what is listed above.

IMPORTANT: Anyone who enters the area not dressed as listed above will be shot on sight as an enemy of the people!

That’s it! I could just surrender. I’m sure they would take good care of me. Besides, I kind of liked what the rebels were standing up for. My family was very well off and I fit the description described in the pamphlet. I didn’t want to give up my freedom but I was so scared. Fortunately, I had all the clothing described in the pamphlet. I had already shaved my legs as I do 3 times a day as well as lotion. I slipped on my shortest özbek escort mini skirt which allowed my bunns to peek out just a bit. My pink top was very small and wrapped tight around my little chest. Tight enough that my nipples perked out. I took a great deal of time applying my best makeup and sprayed perfume on my neck. As I was slipping on my high heels another explosion hit hard. Then there was total silence, the rebels moved on to another attack plan as they did every day. These moments of calm didn’t last very long. This was the time for me to go.

I was hesitant for a moment. So many thoughts and questions. What would they do to me? Would I be a prisoner of war or a citizen in need? Was I doing the right thing? With my body shaking I slowly stepped out the front door and began walking toward the facility. I took very short steps in my high heels and sashayed gently acting as girly as possible. I really wanted to impress these guys so maybe the wouldn’t hurt me or even better maybe let me go when the war was over. I hung my wrists limp and put on a bright sissy smile though I’m sure I looked terrified as well. A few soldiers saw me and walked over laughing. One of them whistled and patted my bunns. I wasn’t attracted to men but I have to admit it excited me a bit while being dressed the way I was and feeling so vulnerable.

“Get that pretty little ass over to the station.” He said while squeezing my left ass cheek, I couldn’t help but blush. They continued down the road and disappeared behind a burnt out home. That wasn’t so bad. They seemed quite friendly. Maybe this isn’t going to be as bad as I feared.

A little smile began to form on my small lips. Click, clack, my heels sounded as I made my way from block to block. There was no one in sight. War is so strange that way. One minute total confusion, sirens, explosions, people running every which-a-way. The next minute nothing at all. As I made my way down the main road I could see the facility just up ahead in the distance. My smile disappeared again and my eyes grew wide open, jaw dropping. Click, clack . . . click. I froze in my tracks. There was all kind of activity happening on the compound grounds but it was still so far away. Just little ants running around. I could recognize the soldiers in their green uniforms but there was another group of individuals in a different uniform. Like a tan color, flesh. Something didn’t feel right. If I was going to turn back . . . now was the time. I looked over my shoulder at the burnt out houses. It was only a matter of time until my house was hit. I looked back at the facility. Sigh. Click . . . clack, click clack. My approach was slow at first, it was still a good mile or so to go. Gawd, I felt sooooo scared. Eventually I made it to the entrance where 2 soldiers were standing. One of them walked over to me and quickly cuffed my hands behind my back. It suddenly became totally real. He then attached cuffs to my ankles with a chain no longer than 18 inches. I felt like crying. He didn’t say a single word to me. I was in a state of shock. His hands grabbed my arms azeri escort and he pushed me forward. I almost fell as the ankle chain tightened, forcing me to take very short, very fast steps. He continued to push me down the cement path towards a doorway. He opened the door forcefully and pushed me in. The door shut behind me and I found myself standing in an empty room with a desk in the middle. I was shaking as I stood there waiting for whatever was going to happen next. A few minutes later the door opened violently which made me let out a little sigh of fright. A very tall and muscular man walked in wearing a military uniform (Camo pants and a green short sleeve T-shirt) His arms were rippling with muscle. He walked right past me as if I wasn’t even there and sat down in a chair behind the desk.

“On your knees, sissy.” He said in a deep voice.

I just stood there in total confusion.

He looked up at me with an angry expression. “I said kneel.” His voice boomed.

My knees seemed to have a mind of their own. The immense fear drove me down. He stood up and brought the chair around the table and sat down next to me while holding several pieces of paper in one hand and a black leather bag in the other. “Face and shoulders on the carpet. Knees spread.”

I felt like crying but slowly I leaned forward and fell to the floor. As my back arched my mini skirt rolled over my bunns completely exposing my ass. My knees were spread as far as the ankle chain would let them and my hands still cuffed tight behind me. I looked up at him wondering what he was going to do. He thumbed through the papers and pulled one out. “So, you are from 182 Sunshine Street?”

“Yes.” I replied softly, almost submissively.

He paused and looked down at me with that angry expression again. “That’s ‘Yes, Sir’ to you, Faggot.”

My eyes widened “Yes . . . Sir.”

“I see you are one of those trust fund faggots. Is that correct?”

It was true. “Yes, Sir.”

“Probably never worked a hard day in your life.” He reached into the leather bag and pulled out what looked to be a large dildo and some kind of plastic tube. Oh no, what was happening. He squirted some gel from the tube onto the dildo and with his other hand he spread the gel evenly along the shaft of the dildo. “Here.” He put the dildo in my right hand. “Use that while I ask you more questions. You will need the practice.”

Practice? I thought to myself. And why was he calling me ‘faggot’? I wasn’t gay.

He looked down at me clearly waiting for me to begin. I never used a dildo before and felt like crying again. He stared at me and it was clear I had no choice. I lined the tip of the dildo up against my hole and pushed in just a little. He just stared directly into my eyes. I pushed in and there was a sharp pain. I let out a little sigh and I could see just the slightest indication of a smirk on his face. I pushed in more and the dildo entered me. it wasn’t painful now just sort of like a strong pressure. I pulled the dildo back out and inserted it once again this time all the way in. Again, I kazank escort let out a little girly sigh.

“Now, let’s continue.” He said while looking at the paper again.

What had I gotten myself into. Here I was on my hands and knees, wrists and ankles cuffed, my back fully arched and my ass high in the air while I used a dildo on myself in front of this very powerful man. I thought about how scared I was but then something else hit me. A different emotion, a submission from fear. I plunged the dildo deep inside myself again and let out a very natural moan as I looked up into his eyes. I couldn’t believe it. I was actually starting to like it. The dildo was moving in and out now at a very steady rhythm.

“How long have you been a faggot?”

“All my life, Sir.” I pushed the dildo gently into my hole.

“How long have you been a spoiled rich bitch?”

I moaned very gently as i pushed the dildo deep inside then back out. “All my life, Sir.” He was so right about me being spoiled and calling me faggot made me plunge the dildo in deeper. I was terrified yet I was loving it. In and out, in and out. And i just let go. My sighs and moans became pure. I wanted him to hear me.

“You have always had everything handed to you haven’t you, faggot?”

I looked up at him so he could see my eyes, to see me surrender to him as i pushed and pulled on the dildo. “Yes, Sir”

“That ends today.”

I arched my back so he could get a better view as i pushed the dildo in deeper, still looking at him. I wanted him to see how terrified I was, to know how much I wanted to surrender fully.

“You will now begin your new life as a subservient sissy slave. Understand faggot?”

I loved how he kept referring to me as ‘Faggot’. “Yes, Sir.” I Pulled the dildo out and plunged it back in yet again. And then again.

“You will always respond to my men as ‘Sir’, understand faggot?”

I couldn’t stop moaning with lust. “Yes, Sir.”

“There are many different types of servitude but with your feminine, slender figure you will most likely end up as a sex slave.”

That sent a shiver through my entire body and I began to thrust the dildo much faster.

“How tall are you faggot?”

“5 foot 6, Sir.” Again I perked up my bunns so he could enjoy the sight.


“114, Sir”

“A petite little thing.”

I never really thought about it but he was right yet again. I was very petite. My sighs and moans grew softer and softer. “Yes, Sir.”

He stood up and walked to the door. “Someone will be here in about a half hour. You just stay like that and enjoy your dildo, faggot.”

I was in a state of total lust and surrender. I was enjoying this dildo and I thought about the idea of being a sex slave for real men, fighting men, strong men, men I admired. I, on the other hand, was a very tiny little sissy. Always too scared to fight. Too weak to lift anything heavy. Wore girls clothing and was pampered by my family. And then it dawned on me what a man once said to me a long time ago. ‘Sissies were made to serve real men.’ I plunged the dildo deep into my hole on that thought and fell into a submissive stupor.

“Oh, and by the way . . .” He said while holding the door knob.

I looked back over my shoulder as best I could. “Yes, Sir?”

That smirk came back to his face. “The next guy isn’t going to be as friendly as I am.”

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