I am an ultra-feminine woman who keeps a she-male slave to wait on her. I personally cinch her up every morning in one of your tightest corsets, until she has an hourglass figure. This forces her to stay on her salad and bread stick diet. If she gains a pound the corset hurts.
I have one of your Frenum Chastities on her cute pink little penis, and encased in metal like that, with the whale boned corset on, she looks just like a coffee urn with the spout down below! In fact, I sometimes refer to her as my “little coffee urn.” Sometimes I; even take the Frenum restrainer off and tell her I want a cup of coffee. Then I give a few jerks on the spout, and sure enough, stuff comes spurting out into my cup. She blushes down to her red painted toes, but I know she likes it, because those same toes curl up when she comes.
I could have a regular male slave or female slave, I suppose. But, while I like to be surrounded by feminine things at home -silks, satins, lace, softness, sweet scents and feminine companionship, I also like certain things about a man that women lack.
A she-male slave is the perfect compromise. I can live in an environment surrounded by feminine placidity and softness. And yet, sometimes when I have a craving, I can take your chastity off her, straddle her from above, and satisfy myself with her that way.
Other times… well lets just say she has a sweet little lipsticked mouth and she knows what to do with it!
I have taught her to wait on me completely. She clips and paints my toenails, washes my hair, lays out all my clothes, cooks every meal, brings me wine.
She has cute, pointy little titties from your hormones that just fill an A-cup. Often when I have guests I make her wait on us topless so everyone can see her breasts and comment on them. She always turns a bright red. Sometimes I even give her to my guests to enjoy. Her mouth has become very adept at pleasing both sexes. But, what I like to watch is her bent over, in heels and nylons, with some man’s thick, beefy column sinking between the soft, hairless white globes of her cheeks and right down into the brown puckered rim of her rectum. It always gets me hot. Sometimes I play with myself, others I get my release from another woman, or with a man. But it’s seeing her take it up the rear that really gets me off.
You may be wondering what her name is. She doesn’t have a name. She’s a slave!
Fort Worth, TX
This letter was originally published in Forced Womanhood 33