Thoughts and fantasies of a submissive

White The colour of so called purity and faux virginity. The colour of shyness and vulnerability.  Wearing clean white silk panties indicates that the pale trembling white bottom will be quivering in fear at  the thought of the violations to which it may be subject. A rubber gloved hand, lubed and gently teasing,  the fingers insistent and eventually squirming their way in, one and two and shanefully three. The devices,  inserts,  probes, vibes and dildos. The bottom fairly wobbles in fear. But like many a bride walking down the aisle in white it's all sham. When Miss catches sight of the flash of white a firm hand follows and grabs a handful of soft buttock. And the little slut moans and js into his Mistress and profferd the other cheek. Hopefully she'll bend him over on his knees or drag him face down to a bed nearby and the pretence of virginal timidity will be foregone as the dirty slut squirms and moans as her butt is rigourously pounded and teased. sp...

Red The colour of the fallen or scarlet woman. When worn by a slut like me means the same. There's no coaxing needed, no teasing or finesse. A slut wearing red panties is signalling her simplest desire - to have her body firmly handled and be brought to crushing orgasm after orgasm. When Miss sees the flash of red panties there's just time to wrench them off her slut's body, shove them in her filthy mouth and grab a firm handful of knoblet. Lube is appreciated but not needed as hands are swiftly folded behind back as Miss forcefully rips an orgasm from her shrieking and juddering slave. Simply bound to prevent her wandering off Miss returns after a drink of water and a stretch of legs to find her slave lying where she's been bound and ready for round two. Some lube and nipple pinching sends her swiftly over the edge again, shrieking as her sensitive knoblet spurts once more. Sleep may provide a brief respite. But when waking it is to more sexual destruction.  Th...

Pink The colour of burgeoning promiscuity. The darker the colour the closer to pure wantonness. Of course it's all just the same continuum so when Miss sees the tell tale flash of pink it's the only invitation needed to grab a handful of sissy butt and squeeze til the popsie swoons. But that's just the start. She leans in close and slips a hand between her slut's legs and  finds her little boy knoblet already hard and dripping in her pink panties. A squeeze of the package and more swooning and moaning. A hand slides to a sissy breast. A squeeze of the handful there - more breathy moaning. Fingers tickle a teat and the dreadful slut near buckles at the knee. There's nothing for it but to take command. The Mistress orders the silly girl to put her hands on her head and lean forward. Time to put some pink in those cheeks.  Slow gentle slaps build slowly as the strumpet is warmed up. The blows stay slow but get heavier. They're curiously loving - interspersed ...

Bottle green/dark green the colour of service.  The dark green is a livery colour  - a colour of service. These betoken a day of service. In a plain skirt and functional stockings the dark green full knickers show a loyal employee who is busily beavering away at cleaning and tidying and with no thought of herself and her selfish pleasures. She works hard and to a good standard. But the Mistress of the house, my own dear Miss, follows her domestic about the house and intervenes to correct her hard working gurl with generous helpings of encouragement and correction to her dutiful but fat rump. The service green pants wear out in the seat but not from sutting but from the liberality of the spankings, floggings, the tawse and the cane. But Miss is a kind employer. Often she'll bend her gurl over a work surface or cleaned table to goise her liberally. Or back her into a corner and grab a handful of tit, rubbing the teats in the way she knows will make her swoon. Before s...

The other day when I was helping Miss hang her curtains* I saw a lovely little small table with  a solitary drawer which had some plastic curtain hooks as the sole residents. Miss is organised and these helped finish the job but the little table seemed too fine a piece to hold nothing more than some crummy little plastic curtain hooks.. So I got to thinking... of a better use for that drawer. Of a panty drawer all of my own. A little space to host a little collection of soft lacy undergarments. Full panties with lace and bows,  which are feminine but much more up to the task of holding things in. And compressing them as they should be. And I thought of the hankie code,  never used but what a wonderful idea. The colour of the hankie indicating the preference of the wearer. A communication without words.  Saying all that needs to be said and allowing a swift move to the activity desired. At least I assume so as I was never into gay bdsm (though my colour would h...

So as the bulk of the female population start to prep their bodies for the feast of flesh as the weather turns warmer,  and what a lovely few months that will be, I go the other way for the same reasons. I let my hair grow back to its old length and convert myself back to being a normal hairy bloke. Hairy and normal enough to lead a local sports team without attracting comments in the changing room. A far cry from the hairless,  stocking clad sissy slut of those long happy winter months. This is not without compensations. Which are that my fantasies switch to darker slave fantasies. Me naked with heavy steel shackles and collars. Frightful rubber hoods - dark and occluding. My breath choked by heavy black collars and starved by thin holed hoods and breathing tubes. Or tough rubber suits clinging taut to my skin slick with sweat. Rubber straight jackets initially cool and slippery with talc but eventually clingy with sweat.  Mummifications become welcome opportunitie...

I saw Mistress last Friday and a happy time was had by both. Before I get to details, a quick word on consequences. Mistress never quite got my chastity device off. Several hours of hardening in the ring caused my knoblet to bruise along the sides. This was painful at the time and encouraged chaste thoughts after. But worse, her use of the knobbled vibe on the head of my knoblet was so forceful and repeated that she actually wore away the skin on the underside just below the head,  by the purse string. That or her periodic re insertions into the tube without lube caused the friction. Whatever the cause, it meant that my favourite spot was damaged and to touch it was very sore. To hump it almost impossible. This suggested a week out of the device to heal. Which I did and have now recovered. But it also interrupted my morning routine. Which is to lie in bed while my wife showers for work and squeeze and roll my nipples while quietly humping the mattress. As the hero in Am...