Vivian’s Sissy Correction
Vivian’s Sissy Correction: Attitude Adjusted
Vivian had tolerated the little brat’s snide remarks for exactly three minutes too long. The sissy—dressed in cheap pink panties and a too-small maid outfit—had rolled his eyes when ordered to kneel properly, then muttered something about “not being that submissive.” Big mistake.
She grabbed him by the collar of his frilly apron, yanked him forward until his nose was an inch from hers. “Oh honey,” she purred, voice ice-cold steel, “you think sass earns you mercy? Let’s see how mouthy you are with my cock down your throat.”
She dragged him across the room by the hair, forced him to his knees in front of the full-length mirror. “Look at yourself,” she commanded. “Pathetic little wannabe girl with an attitude problem. We’re fixing that right now.” She stripped him roughly—ripping the panties down his thighs, yanking the maid dress over his head until he was naked except for thigh-high stockings and the cheap collar around his neck.
Next came the makeup. She sat him on the vanity stool, pinned his wrists behind the chair back with leather cuffs, and went to work. Thick black eyeliner, heavy mascara that would run when he cried, bright pink lipstick smeared deliberately past the lines of his mouth. “There,” she said, stepping back. “Now you look like the desperate cum-dump you are. Say thank you, bitch.”
He hesitated. She slapped his face—not hard, just sharp enough to sting. “Thank you, Mistress Vivian,” he mumbled, cheeks burning. She laughed. “Louder. And call yourself what you are.”
“Thank you, Mistress Vivian… for making this worthless sissy bitch look pretty.”
“Better.” She retrieved her favorite strap-on from the drawer—a thick, veined, eight-inch silicone cock in glossy black, already glistening with lube. She stepped into the harness, buckled it tight, let the dildo bob menacingly in front of his face. “Open wide. You’re going to warm me up before I wreck that tight little hole.”
He opened. She grabbed his head with both hands and thrust deep—past the gag reflex in one smooth motion. His eyes watered instantly, mascara streaking down his cheeks in black rivers. She fucked his throat steadily, hips rolling, balls of the harness slapping his chin. “That’s it. Choke on it. This is what happens to sissies who forget their place. You exist to serve, to take, to shut the fuck up and look pretty while you’re getting used.”
When his throat was raw and drool coated his chin, she pulled out, strings of spit connecting his swollen lips to the glistening tip. She spun him around, bent him over the vanity so he could watch himself in the mirror. “Ass up. Spread those cheeks. Show me the hole I’m about to ruin.”
He obeyed, trembling, fingers pulling his cheeks apart. Vivian pressed the fat head against his puckered entrance, teasing, circling, then—without warning—pushed in slow and deep. He gasped, body tensing. She didn’t stop. Inch by inch she filled him until her hips pressed flush against his ass, the entire length buried inside.
“Look at yourself,” she hissed, grabbing his hair to force his head up. “Watch a real woman fuck you like the bitch you are.” She started thrusting—long, deliberate strokes at first, then faster, harder. The vanity rattled. His cock—small, caged, useless—dripped pre-cum onto the floor. Every thrust forced a whimper from his throat.
“Beg for it,” she ordered, slamming in deep and holding. “Beg Mistress to fuck the attitude out of you.”
“Please… Mistress Vivian… fuck me harder… punish this sissy bitch… I was wrong… I’m sorry… please ruin me… make me your hole…” Tears mixed with ruined makeup as he babbled.
She gave him what he begged for—brutal, relentless pounding that left him shaking, ass red from the impacts, hole gaping and slick every time she pulled back. When she finally came—grinding the base of the strap against her clit while buried to the hilt—he sobbed in relief and shame, body collapsing forward.
She pulled out slowly, admiring the wrecked, twitching hole. Then she uncuffed him, pushed him to his knees. “Clean it. Every inch. Taste your own ass on my cock, bitch.” He obeyed without hesitation, tongue lapping obediently while fresh tears fell.
Vivian stroked his hair almost gently. “Attitude corrected. Next time you sass me, I’ll parade you in front of my friends with that plug in and make you thank each one for watching. Understood?”
He nodded frantically, voice hoarse. “Yes, Mistress Vivian… thank you for putting me in my place.”
She smiled, silver light catching the edge of her strap-on. “Good girl. Now crawl to the corner and think about how lucky you are to serve me.”