Grinning mischievously at the prospect of humiliating a sissy in a room full of people, Mistress Kyra orders me into my ballerina outfit. She's so playful and commanding, it's impossible for me not to do what she says. So I pull the white tights up my legs, slip the pink ballet slippers onto my feet, and stretch the confining, long-sleeve, turtleneck leotard on. My face turns red with embarrassment as Mistress zips up the back of the leotard, encasing me from head to toe in tights. When I turn around she's fluffing up the crowning humiliation: a frilly pink tutu. She can't stop giggling as I put it on. Then she orders me to twirl around a few times and assume first position.
By now people milling around the party have noticed me and Mistress orders me to curtsy whenever someone laughs. Since everyone laughs when they see me, I am constantly curtsying.
Stringing my hands to a bar over my head, Mistress adjusts my tutu so that it's sticking straight out like a pancake and there's an unobstructed view of my crotch. She then reaches under my tights and pulls out my cock and balls. Stepping back for a moment, she tells me how cute I look. Then she begins attaching wooden clothespins to my privates. She's careful to clip them close together in a fan shape around my scrotum. Then she makes a couple of rows leading out the length of my little sissy dick.
Mistress stops every so often, grabs the head of my penis, and shakes it hard causing all the pins to rattle and me to whimper and moan.
I look like a pin cushion after she's attached all 75 clothes pins. She again tells me how cute I look, and then leaves me there blushing while she goes and mingles around the party. The giggling doesn't stop and I am too embarrassed to look at anyone except Mistress, who turns back and points at me saying something I can't hear, but which causes all her friends to look at me and burst out laughing.
When she comes back and releases my arms I feel a little better, but not for long when I realize my humiliation is only going to grow. She takes me to a big mirror and orders me to prance like a ballerina. The shame is very intense as a crowd gathers to watch me run through some basic steps. Pirouette, tondu, echape--all designed to make little girls feel feminine. I catch myself looking like such a sissy in the mirror--my guy's haircut and square jaw over the frilliest, girliest outfit imaginable. I then begin the most humiliating part of my routine. Sissy jumps that cause the clothespins to knock together loud enough for everyone to hear.
When my routine is over I hope for a break, but Mistress Kyra is having way too much fun at my expense. She says it's time for me to sing the Shirley Temple song she made me memorize. I plead with her not to humiliate me that much, but she just giggles at how pathetic I am.
Leading me to the area near the entrance, she announces to the party's hostess and the guests coming in that I am going to sing Good Ship Lollypop. The humiliation is so intense that my whole body is shaking as I begin to sing and dance. The laughter is so loud that no one can hear the words. I somehow get through it and, cheeks burning with shame, curtsy to the crowd, who are all laughing too hard to clap.
Mistress then leads me back into the main room and gives me the bad news. Since one of the clothespins fell of my penis during my performance I will have to receive a spanking. She bends me over and spanks me until I'm on the verge of tears, then rattles the clothespins and giggles.
When I stand up straight she tells me she's going to go hang out with her friends and will come back for me later. As I look at her longingly she says that I am allowed to do whatever I want, except remove any of the clothespins.
I drink some water and eat a little food while dealing with the embarrassment of walking around a crowded party in a frilly pink tutu, white tights, pink ballet slippers, turtleneck leotard, and exposed cock and balls covered with 75 clothespins.
After a while the pain from the clothes pins becomes very intense and I realize I've had them on for almost two hours--much longer then ever before. I start to moan and whimper and can't stand still, which only makes it worse.
As if by magic, Mistress Kyra walks up behind me just as the pain is becoming too much. She says she'll take the clothespins off, but that she wants to do it on the main stage so that everyone can watch. We have to wait a few minutes until the stage becomes available, Mistress laughing at my impatience.
Finally we go up and she orders me into second position with me arms extended to my sides. I scream and yell at the pain as she takes her time removing the clothespins in front of the crowd. When they are all off I'm left out of breath, trying to recover. I assume we are done playing and thank Mistress Kyra.
She responds by quickly tying a thin chord around the head of my penis, throwing it over a bar dangling above us, and pulling it hard so I'm yanked up onto the balls of me feet. She then ties off the rope. I ask mistress what she's doing as I realize I can't put my heels down and have to stand on my tippy toes to keep my penis from coming off. "It's called predicament bondage," she says as she cuffs my hands behind my back, steps off the stage, and disappears into a crowd of people giggling at the sight of a helpless ballet sissy.
Mistress Kyra von Kropp
Worship Desire Obey
www.Kyravonkropp.com
714 784 2046
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=91.7){kind=small}
good
accomplished