I Became a Sissy the Night I Locked the Padlock

I’d had that toy hidden away in the back of the drawer for almost a year, under the underwear no one else ever saw. I had bought it on a whim, one of those nights when desire clouded my judgment and I clicked on anything as long as it promised to ease the urge. It was big. Too big, I always told myself. Thick, long, with a surface marked by ridges that made it look almost real, with bulging veins running along its length and a pair of heavy balls hanging at the base. Every so often I’d take it out, weigh it in my hand, feel the dead weight of that silicone cock against my palm, and a shiver of fear would crawl up my back.

No, Daniela, that dick is going to split your ass in two.

So I’d hide it again under my clothes, like someone putting away a secret she wasn’t ready to confess yet.

But that night was different. I’d gone several days without touching my cunt, not even slipping in a finger, building up need until my whole body was screaming for it. Every hour that passed without coming made me more impatient, more willing to do anything. My skin burned beneath my clothes, my thighs tightened on their own, my clit throbbed like a second heart, and my mind wouldn’t let me think about anything except a cock, any cock, getting into me wherever it could.

I got ready slowly. I put on the black lace nightgown, the one that barely brushed the middle of my thighs and let a hint of my shaved pussy show without fully revealing it. Nothing else. Well, not nothing else: the new cage. The flat one, the one that pushes everything inward until it seems like nothing’s there, like I’m smooth as a doll. I slipped the padlock through the ring and locked it.

The click was what finally set me on fire. A small metallic sound, final. All at once, I no longer belonged to myself. I had nothing left to give me pleasure except my mouth and my ass, and that certainty ran through my body like a shock. I felt light. Emptied of will. Turned into something else: a hole with a cage, two mouths ready to swallow, a silicone cow waiting to be fucked.

That’s it. Now I’m only that. An ass and a mouth to suck cock.

***

I took the toy out of the drawer and pressed it against the wall at just the right height. It stayed there, firm, waiting, the tip pointed straight ahead as if it were looking at me. I knelt in front of it on the rug, my nightgown slipping off my shoulders and the cage pinching between my legs until it hurt. I looked at it from below. Seen like that, on my knees, that black cock looked even bigger, more imposing, like something you can only obey and suck until you choke.

I started with the tip. The first brush of my tongue, slow, almost shy, drew a tiny moan out of me that even surprised me. I ran my tongue flat over the whole surface, from base to head, tasting the texture that was soft and hard at the same time. I lingered on the balls, sucking them one by one, taking them into my mouth and playing with them between my lips. I slid up the thick vein running underneath, following it with the tip of my tongue until I reached the head, and there I paused. I gave it wet kisses, little bites, broad licks like it was an ice cream melting in my mouth. I closed my eyes. I took my time, as if I had to earn the right to more cock.

Then I opened my mouth as wide as I could and took it in. I had to force the corners of my lips apart to make it fit. The head hit the back of my throat and I felt the pressure immediately, that dry gag reflex rising from my stomach and making me cry. I slobbered. I panted. I grabbed the waist of my nightgown with one hand as if someone were pushing me by the nape of the neck, and I pulled forward until my nose hit the wall and the silicone balls brushed my chin.

I sucked like my life depended on it. Like a bitch in heat, with no dignity, no restraint. I pulled it all the way out to the tip and then swallowed it again in one go, deep throating, fucking my own throat. I couldn’t stop. I took it as far as I could manage, with muffled gagging that made my whole body shake, saliva running thick down my chin and dripping in heavy strands over the lace of my nightgown until it soaked my breasts. Every time I swallowed it a little deeper, a shiver went through me from head to toe. My nose ran, my mascara smeared, and I didn’t care. My throat burned and I liked the burn. I wanted more. I wanted it to fuck my mouth until it made me throw up.

—Yes, yes, like that —I panted against the cock—, like that, take my mouth, use me.

***

But my ass was hungry too. That part of me that had been demanding attention for days wasn’t satisfied with my mouth. I remembered the smaller toy, the vibrating one, that I had within reach. I picked it up, drizzled cold lube on the tip, and slowly worked it into my hole, feeling my ring open to swallow it. One centimeter. Another. Until it was all inside and only the flat base was left outside. I turned on the motor.

The buzzing drove me crazy instantly. It vibrated deep inside, right against my prostate, and my legs trembled so hard I almost toppled forward into the wall. The cage clamped down even tighter because my body, locked up and all, was trying to get hard and couldn’t. That dull ache was part of the game. Every time I wanted to swell up, the metal reminded me: you’re nothing, you can’t get hard, you can only take it.

I kept my mouth busy while the little toy buzzed inside me. I moved my hips so it would drive deeper, searching for the exact angle that made me see lights behind my eyes. I sucked, swallowed, gagged, moaned with my mouth full. It was too much: my throat speared, my ass vibrating, the tight cage reminding me every second what I was now. A clear slick started to drip from the padlock without me being able to do anything about it; it oozed from the metal as if my body were crying out the front what it couldn’t get rid of. I was somewhere else. I wasn’t thinking anymore. I only felt cock and vibration and wet lace.

This is what I am. A hole with a collar. This is the only thing that matters.

***

I pulled it out of my mouth with a long strand of saliva still connecting me to it. I wiped my chin with the back of my hand and stared at it, shiny and soaked, waiting for the next hole. I stood up, turned around, and spread my legs in front of the wall. I pulled the small vibrator out of my ass with a soft plop that made me moan at the emptiness, set the base against the baseboard, and placed the tip of the big one right at the entrance of my still-open hole. I pushed back.

Nothing. The ring, used to the smaller one, clenched shut against such a beast, far too tight for something like that. I took a deep breath. I poured another stream of lube over the head, spread it with my hand until it was all slick, smeared some between my cheeks too, and got back into position, pushing my ass back with the flats of my palms against the wall.

—Come on, Daniela —I whispered, almost breathless—. Open your ass, slut. You can take this cock.

I pushed again, more firmly, clenching my teeth and forcing the ring. I felt the muscle resist, stretching to its limit, and then all at once it gave way. The head shoved in and a long, animal moan escaped me, rising from deep in my chest and shaking me to the core. I felt myself opening on the inside, the sphincter surrendering where a second before there had been no way through. A few more centimeters and it wasn’t just the head anymore: it was the whole shaft, thick, ridged, unstoppable, impaling me centimeter by centimeter.

I did it. I really took it. I’ve got a cock in my ass.

I stayed still for a moment, holding myself against the wall with both hands, breathing in short gasps, sweat running down my back to the crack of my ass, taking in what had just happened. I felt open in a way I had never felt before. Open and, at the same time, full. I could feel every ridge of the silicone pulsing against my walls, as if the cock had a heartbeat.

***

I kept going. Centimeter by centimeter, pushing my ass back, letting it take more. I felt each ridge scraping inside me, each vein tracing its path against my walls, the thick head forcing its way toward the back. The friction was intense, almost rough because the lube was starting to dry, but that was exactly the friction that took me to the edge. I liked forcing myself. Stretching. Feeling the burn and the sting. Feeling like I had no choice but to accept it, like my hole had been made to swallow cock even if it hurt.

When I realized it, half of it was inside me. I was sweating. Moaning against the plaster wall with my mouth open, leaving wet stains of saliva and breath. I felt used, dominated, reduced to a single function: an ass to fuck. It was long. It was thick. If I took it all the way in I’d be fully impaled, pierced from side to side. But I’d already come this far and I wanted all of it, I wanted it until the base slammed against my cheeks. I wasn’t settling for less.

I started moving. Back and forth, slowly, setting the rhythm myself, fucking myself against the wall. Every time I pulled back I felt it deeper, scratching inside me. Every time I moved away, my ass missed it before I’d even fully let it go, clenching around the emptiness and asking for it back. It was a new sensation, needing immediately what had been tearing me apart a second before. I felt exactly like what I wanted to be that night: a surrendered sissy, a caged bitch, with no will beyond letting myself be filled up through the hole.

—More, more, more —I panted, biting at the air—, put the whole cock in me, all the way to the balls, break me.

***

I gathered my nerve and pushed to the hilt. Slowly, but without stopping. My ass burned, the ring was on fire, but I kept lowering myself, letting gravity and my own weight do the work. And then it finally happened. The flat base crushed against my cheeks, the whole body of the toy buried where I had once thought it would never fit, the silicone balls bumping against the skin of my caged crotch. Full. Completely full. I could feel the tip deep inside, in a place no one had ever reached before.

I stayed like that for a few seconds, trembling, with my lace nightgown sliding off one shoulder and the padlock still closed between my legs, dripping lube and clear fluid in equal measure, reminding me that this was the only thing I was allowed. I closed my eyes and surrendered to the sensation. There was no rush. There was nothing to chase except the pleasure of being taken to the very bottom, impaled like a doll.

Then I pulled almost all of it out, until my hole was only hugging the head, and shoved it back in with a sharp thrust. Once. Again. From tip to base, one stroke after another that I gave myself against the wall, my cheeks slamming against the fake balls with a wet, obscene sound. Every movement opened me a little more, filled me a little more, drove me a little deeper into the role I had chosen. I moaned without control, mouth open, tongue out. I begged for more out loud, to no one, even though I was already on the edge of what I could take. I felt my prostate hammered with every drop, a dull lash of pleasure climbing my spine and making more slick leak from the padlock, a small shining pool between my knees.

More. Even if it tears my ass apart. Especially if it tears my ass apart.

***

I stopped because I’d run out of lube and started to notice the friction wasn’t pure pleasure anymore, that one more inch and it would really hurt, break me open from the inside. I stopped in time. I pulled it out slowly, carefully, feeling my body close back up little by little, feeling the ring shrink around the shaft as it came out, empty again after being so full. When the head finally slipped free, my hole stayed open for a few seconds, loose, refusing to close, a breath of cool air where there had been silicone a moment before.

I stayed on my knees on the rug, breathing hard, with a sweet burn running through me. A soft, pleasant ache, proof that I had opened myself properly, that there had been a before and after. I felt truly fucked, fucked like I had never been before. I hadn’t come—with the cage locked there was no way, not even a drop of cum could get out—but I didn’t need to. I was satisfied in a different, deeper way. Marked on the inside. The cock was gone but the feeling remained, as if a ghost were still filling me.

I turned and looked at it, still pressed against the wall, shiny, with strands of spit and lube hanging from it. I could hardly believe it. I had taken the whole thing, balls and all, on the first try, with barely a small toy for prep. As if my ass had spent the whole year waiting for exactly this cock.

***

I decided I wasn’t going to touch the front for a few days. I’d keep the cage on, the padlock locked, letting the arousal build up again like before but worse. I wanted to think about this every hour of the day. I wanted the memory of that cock splitting my ass to haunt me at work, while I crossed my legs under my desk and felt my hole still sensitive; in bed, biting the pillow with my hands tied to an imaginary headboard; in the shower, with hot water streaming over the cage while I couldn’t touch myself. I wanted to get back to it so horny, so desperate, that I could ride it longer, slower, deeper. Ride it while looking at myself in the mirror, watching that cock go in and out of my ass all the way to the base.

Until one day I came just from having my ass full and my mouth empty, begging for more cock. A dry orgasm, without touching myself, without needing anything, sent out only by a prostate hammered until it surrendered. Because that’s what I am now, what I discovered that night in front of the wall, with lace slipping off my shoulders, saliva hanging from my chin, and cold metal dripping between my legs: a locked-up woman who lives only to open her ass and let herself be fucked.

And for the first time in a long time, I knew exactly who I was.