Sissy's New Life

Chapter Sixteen: A New Depth of Humiliation

The following days were an unrelenting nightmare for Mitch. Each morning began with the now-familiar routine: being dressed in the most humiliating attire by his mistresses. Today, he was clad in a scandalously short, tight red dress, black fishnet stockings, and his ever-present locked heels. His face was a masterpiece of exaggerated makeup—thick eyeliner, bright red lipstick, and rosy blush. The padded bra made his chest bulge obscenely, adding to his overall appearance of a sissy slut.

As Mitch left the house, the humiliation only deepened. The neighbourhood kids snickered and pointed, adults gave disapproving glances, and the occasional car slowed down, the passengers laughing and shouting crude comments. By the time he reached the university, his nerves were frayed.

The whispers and laughter that had begun yesterday were now a constant backdrop to his life. It felt like the entire campus was in on the cruel joke that was his existence. Every glance seemed to mock him, every word spoken in his presence was a jab at his dignity.

When he reached his classroom, he found it harder than ever to focus on the lecture. His mind was a swirl of shame and fear, every movement making him acutely aware of the tight dress constricting his body and the makeup caked on his face.

At lunch, Mitch tried to find a quiet corner to eat alone, but even that reprieve was denied him. A group of students approached, their faces twisted into cruel grins.

"Hey there, Sissy Slut," one of them jeered. "Nice outfit. Did your mom pick it out for you?"

Mitch's face burned with shame. He wanted to disappear, to escape the relentless torment, but there was no refuge. Lanya, Alexandra, Abbie, and Lauren had ensured that his humiliation would be public and inescapable.

After classes, Mitch trudged back home, his head bowed. The journey felt endless, every step a reminder of his complete and utter submission. When he finally reached the house, he was met with a new horror.

Inside, the living room had been transformed into a set for another of their cruel videos. Cameras were set up, and the lighting was harsh and unforgiving. In the centre of the room was a large, ornate chair with straps and restraints, clearly meant for him.

Lanya greeted him with a sadistic smile. "Welcome home, Sissy Slut. We have a new project for you."

Mitch's heart sank as he was guided to the chair and strapped in. His wrists and ankles were bound, his movements restricted. He was completely at their mercy.

Abbie stepped forward, holding a laptop. "We noticed your little meltdown the other day," she said, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "So we thought we'd give you a little reminder of your place."

With a few keystrokes, Abbie brought up Mitch's social media profiles. His heart pounded as he saw what they had done. His profile pictures had been changed to humiliating images from their recordings. His name was altered to "Sissy Slut Mitch," and his bio was filled with degrading descriptions of his supposed loves and kinks.

Tears welled up in Mitch's eyes as he took in the extent of his exposure. "Please," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Please, don't do this."

But his pleas fell on deaf ears. Lanya, Alexandra, Abbie, and Lauren laughed, their eyes gleaming with cruel delight. They took turns mocking him, teasing him, reminding him of his place.

"You should be grateful," Alexandra said, her tone icy. "We're making sure everyone knows the real you."

The recording began, capturing every moment of Mitch's despair. His tears, his pleading, his utter humiliation—it was all immortalised for their amusement and the world's viewing pleasure.

As the session continued, Mitch felt himself breaking. The relentless humiliation, the complete loss of control, the knowledge that there was no escape—it was all too much. His spirit crumbled under the weight of their cruelty.

When they finally released him from the chair, he was a shell of his former self. They sent him to his cage, locking him in for the night. Exhausted and broken, Mitch curled up, tears streaming down his face.

And as he lay there, he knew that this was his life now. A never-ending cycle of humiliation and degradation, orchestrated by those who took pleasure in his suffering. There was no escape, no reprieve, only the darkness that had consumed his world.