Marcy the Sissy Slut Ch 04 : The Submission

Marcy awoke the next morning on the sofa in Room Bronze 4, her body aching from the previous night’s ordeal. The pain in her ass was a constant reminder of the trauma she had endured. She winced as she sat up, feeling the soreness deep within her. Slowly, she gathered her clothes, dressed, and made her way back to her room.

Once inside, Marcy headed straight for the shower. The hot water soothed her aching muscles, but it couldn't wash away the memories of the night before. She scrubbed herself clean, trying to regain some semblance of normalcy.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, she was startled to see Sharon and the nurse already in her room. She froze, her heart racing. The concept of privacy no longer applied to her; she was a sissy slave, and her body and her life were no longer her own.

Sharon’s expression was stern. “Marcy, the customer from last night filed a complaint because you came on his clothes. Our club has already apologized and provided him with a free change of clothes.”

Marcy’s eyes widened, and she felt a pang of fear. “I’m sorry, Madam Sharon. I won’t do it again.”

Sharon’s gaze remained cold. “You must understand that our customer’s satisfaction is our top priority. We must help them maintain discretion when visiting us. It would be disastrous for them if their wives, coworkers, or business associates found out they were here. Because of your mistake, you’ve earned another violation.”

Marcy’s heart sank. “I’m so sorry, Madam Sharon.”

Sharon’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Maybe it’s too early, but from now on, you’ll be wearing chastity and will undergo advanced submission training. The nurse will lock your penis, and you’re forbidden to remove it without permission from the nurse or at the request of a customer.”

Marcy’s eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head in desperation. “Please, Madam Sharon, don’t do this to me. I’ll train hard, I promise. But please, don’t lock me up.”

Sharon’s eyes narrowed. “That’s another violation, Marcy. Now lie back on your bed. The nurse will lock it for you, or we’ll do it the hard way.”

Marcy felt a wave of fear wash over her. She knew there was no point in resisting. With a heavy heart, she obeyed and lay back on the bed, her body trembling.

The nurse approached, her expression unreadable. She pulled on sterile rubber gloves and took out a small metal chastity device. “Take a deep breath, Marcy,” she instructed.

Marcy closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing. The nurse’s hands were clinical and efficient as she fitted the device around Marcy’s small penis. There was a cold click as it locked into place, and Marcy felt a wave of helplessness wash over her.

Sharon nodded approvingly. “Good. From now on, this is part of your training. You’ll learn to serve without any distractions.”



Marcy fought back tears as she felt the restrictive device around her. She knew she had no choice but to accept this new level of control and humiliation.

“Remember, Marcy,” Sharon said, her voice firm. “Your purpose is to please. You’ll undergo advanced submission training to ensure you never make a mistake like that again.”

Marcy nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yes, Madam Sharon.”

After being fitted with the chastity device, Marcy was instructed to go to Underground Room 4. She had never ventured to the lower levels of Spectrum Nights before, and the thought of what awaited her filled her with dread.

With hesitant steps, Marcy descended the stairs, the dim lighting growing darker as she moved deeper underground. The air felt cooler, and the walls seemed to close in around her. She reached the bottom and followed the hallway to Room 4, her heart pounding in her chest.

Pushing open the door, Marcy stepped into a white room lined with mirrors. The stark brightness was a sharp contrast to the rest of the club. Everywhere she looked, she saw her reflection—a sissy slave in yellow lingerie, the chastity device a stark reminder of her submission. She walked slowly to one of the mirrors, staring at herself. It was still hard to believe this was her reality now.

As she stood there, lost in thought, the door opened behind her. Marcy turned to see Shane entering the room, his presence both familiar and intimidating.

"Hi Marcy," Shane said with a sly smile. "It's been a while. Why are you here?"

Marcy felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. "Uhmmm, I... I cum in a customer's clothes," she stammered. "And I was told to come here."

Shane's expression turned mockingly sympathetic. "Aww, that's awful. Do you know you are just a sissy slave? You need the customer's permission to cum. You should remember that forever."

Marcy nodded, her cheeks burning with shame. "Yes, Sir. I'm sorry."

Shane walked closer, his gaze locked on Marcy's reflection in the mirror. "Look at yourself, Marcy. This is who you are now. Every time you see your reflection, you need to remember your place. You are here to serve and please, nothing more."

Marcy's eyes filled with tears, but she nodded again, knowing any resistance would only lead to more punishment. "Yes, Sir."

Shane moved behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and turning her to face one of the mirrors. "You need to embrace this, Marcy. Accept who you are. Only then can you truly serve."

Marcy stared at her reflection, trying to come to terms with the person she saw. The humiliation, the chastity, the constant submission—it was all part of her new identity. She had to survive, and survival meant complete and utter compliance.

"Now," Shane said, his voice soft but firm, "repeat after me: 'I am Marcy, a sissy slave. My purpose is to serve and obey.'"

Marcy swallowed hard, the words catching in her throat. "I am Marcy, a sissy slave. My purpose is to serve and obey."

"Good," Shane whispered in her ear. "Again. But this time, say it in a girly voice."

Marcy hesitated, feeling a new wave of humiliation wash over her. But she knew she had no choice. She took a deep breath and repeated the words in a higher, more feminine voice. "I am Marcy, a sissy slave. My purpose is to serve and obey."

"Very good," Shane said, smiling with approval. "From now on, you will use that girly voice every day. Forever. Do you understand?"

Marcy felt a lump in her throat but managed to nod. "Yes, Sir. I understand."

"Perfect," Shane said. "Keep going, in that same girly voice."

"I am Marcy, a sissy slave. My purpose is to serve and obey," Marcy repeated, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to maintain the higher pitch.

"Perfect," Shane said. "You will stay here for the next hour, looking at yourself and repeating those words in your girly voice. When you're done, come find me, and we will begin your next lesson."

Marcy nodded, the weight of her new reality pressing down on her. As Shane left the room, she turned back to the mirror, her reflection staring back at her. She took a deep breath and began to repeat the mantra, each word a step deeper into her submission.

"I am Marcy, a sissy slave. My purpose is to serve and obey."

For the next hour, Marcy stood in front of the mirror, repeating the words over and over in her girly voice, imprinting them into her mind. With each repetition, she felt a part of her old self slip away, replaced by the new, submissive Marcy. By the time the hour was up, she found Shane waiting for her, carrying a bundle of clothing and a wig.

"Here, Marcy," he said, handing her a white dress adorned with delicate, girly patterns. "Put this on."

Marcy carefully took the dress and the wig, her hands trembling slightly. She slipped into the dress, feeling the soft fabric against her skin. It fit perfectly, hugging her newly feminized form in all the right places. She placed the wig on her head, adjusting it until it looked natural.

When she looked at herself in the mirror, she barely recognized the person staring back. The pretty girl in the white Lolita dress with the delicate patterns and flowing hair looked nothing like the person she once was. Marcy's cheeks turned red with a mix of embarrassment and strange pride.

Shane stepped close, whispering in her ear. "Do you like it, Marcy? That pretty girl in the mirror is you. You are no longer a man. You are a pretty sissy slave, and you should be proud of that."

Marcy's blush deepened, and she felt a confusing mixture of emotions. "Yes, Master. I'm just a sissy slave, and I am proud of it," she said softly.

"Good," Shane replied, a satisfied smile on his face. "Now, I have a gift for you."

He handed her a small box. Marcy opened it to find a pair of tiny earbuds. She looked at Shane, puzzled. She wasn't allowed to have a phone or a music player, so she didn't understand their purpose.

"Use them under your wig," Shane instructed. "I will play something fun for you."

Marcy obeyed, slipping the earbuds into her ears and adjusting the wig over them. Shane took out his phone and started playing music. At first, Marcy thought it was just ambient music, but soon she noticed the subtle whispers intertwined with the melody. 

"You are a girl. You are beautiful. You will obey. You want to suck cock," the whispers repeated.

Marcy was unaware that the music was designed to be hypnotic, reinforcing her feminization and submission with every listen. The soothing ambient sounds and soft whispers began to sink into her subconscious, slowly reshaping her thoughts and desires.

"Today is a good day," Shane said, watching Marcy closely. "Let's go outside and get some fresh air."

Marcy's eyes widened in shock. The thought of going outside in her new attire was mortifying. But she knew she couldn't refuse. "Yes, Master," she said, her voice trembling slightly.

Shane snapped a dog chain onto Marcy's collar. The clinking sound was a stark reminder of her new reality. Marcy felt a wave of humiliation wash over her as she looked down at the delicate, frilly Lolita dress she was wearing. The wig added to her transformation, making her look like a cosplayer girl. 

"Let's go, Marcy," Shane said, tugging gently on the chain.

Marcy followed, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She tried her best to walk gracefully, hoping to convince any onlookers that she was just a girl in costume. The earbuds in her ears filled her mind with ambient hypnotic music and Shane’s voice, making everything else a blur.

As they walked through the club, Marcy felt the stares of other employees and customer. She couldn't hear their words clearly, but every time she saw someone look at her, she imagined they were talking about her. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red.

Shane walked at a steady pace, allowing Marcy to adjust to the sensation of being led on a chain. As they approached the exit door, Marcy hesitated, fear gripping her heart.

"What's wrong, Marcy?" Shane asked, turning to look at her. "Is the sissy afraid to go out? It’s okay. No one will notice anything unusual as long as you follow your master's orders."

Marcy’s heart skipped a beat. Taking a deep breath, she stepped outside, feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin and the fresh air in her lungs. It had been so long since she had been outside.

They walked through the streets, and Marcy did her best to keep up with Shane, her eyes darting around nervously. People walked by, engrossed in their own lives, but Marcy noticed a few glances in her direction. Whenever she saw someone looking at her, she imagined they were whispering about her, and her blush deepened.

"It's okay," Shane said, noticing her discomfort. "Everyone is just talking about how cute you are."

Marcy blushed even more at Shane's words, but she tried to walk with more confidence. They soon arrived at a park, the sunny day bringing out families with their children and pets. Marcy felt exposed and tried to hide her face, but Shane pulled on the chain.

"You can't hide your face, sissy," Shane said firmly. "Walk proudly and show your face."

Marcy obeyed, holding her head up high as they walked through the park. The embarrassment was overwhelming, but she knew she had to endure it.

They approached an ice cream stall, and Shane stopped. "As a reward for being a good girl, you can order whatever ice cream you like," he said.

Marcy felt a pang of anxiety. She was so embarrassed she could barely look at the ice cream clerk. The hypnotic music in her ears drowned out the sounds around her, making it difficult to hear. Shane nudged her gently.

"Order like a good girl," Shane said firmly

Marcy took a deep breath and, in the most feminine voice she could muster, said, "I want vanilla, please."

The clerk said something in response, but Marcy couldn't hear it clearly. She sensed a hint of impatience in his tone, making her even more flustered. The clerk handed her the ice cream, and Marcy took it with trembling hands, her face bright red.

The clerk smiled and said something, but it was lost in the music playing in her ears. Shane handed the clerk some money and turned to Marcy.

"He said it’s the first time he's seen a pretty girl like you," Shane said. "Now say thank you."

Marcy blushed even more and, in her girliest voice, said, "Thank you, sir."



The clerk nodded, seemingly pleased, and Marcy felt a strange mixture of pride and humiliation. She took a small bite of her ice cream, the cool sweetness a stark contrast to the heat of her embarrassment.

Shane led her to a bench, and they sat down. "You did well, Marcy," he said. "Remember, the more you embrace your role, the easier it will become."

Marcy nodded, licking her ice cream and trying to calm her racing heart. She knew that this was her life now, a series of small humiliations and rewards designed to deepen her submission.

"Let's find a bench to enjoy the ice cream," Shane suggested, leading Marcy through the park. She followed him, carefully holding her ice cream cone, her mind still reeling from the public exposure.

They walked a little farther, finding a bench that was somewhat hidden from the main crowd. It offered a semblance of privacy, shielded by tall bushes and trees. Shane sat down and motioned for Marcy to kneel in front of him.

Marcy, feeling a mix of trepidation and obedience, knelt on the grass, the soft ground cushioning her knees. Shane reached out and gently placed a blindfold over her eyes.

"Now, you must believe whatever I say," Shane whispered, his voice steady and commanding. He took the ice cream from her hand. "Lick the ice cream in front of you. You can use your mouth but don't bite with your teeth."

With the hypnotic music still playing in her ears, Marcy focused solely on Shane's voice. She leaned forward, her tongue reaching out tentatively to lick the ice cream. It was sweet and soft, the familiar taste soothing her nerves.

She kept licking, her movements becoming more confident as she continued. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, Marcy began to enjoy the treat. The sweetness of the ice cream and the softness of the texture were comforting.

Suddenly, she felt something hard in front of her. She paused, confused. "Maybe the ice cream is just frozen in the middle," she thought.

"You can suck on that, but don't bite," Shane instructed.

Marcy obeyed, wrapping her lips around the hard object and sucking gently. It felt strange—hard but with a slight give. She continued, waiting for the ice cream to melt.

Without warning, the hard object spurted a salty cream into her mouth. Marcy froze in shock, her mind racing. Shane's voice cut through her confusion.

"Swallow it like a good girl," he commanded.

Marcy hesitated for a moment before obeying, swallowing the salty liquid. She felt a wave of humiliation wash over her as she realised what she had just done. Shane removed the blindfold, and Marcy's eyes adjusted to the light.



She looked up and saw Shane’s satisfied expression. She had been sucking on his penis, not the ice cream.

"Good girl," Shane said, a satisfied smile on his face. "You did well. It's not that hard to suck your master's cock publicly, right? It's not so embarrassing. As long as you follow your master's orders, you will be fine and enjoy every moment, even the most humiliating and embarrassing ones. The key is to trust your master."

Marcy nodded, her face flushed with a mixture of emotions. "Yes, Master."

"Now, tell me, what did you think about this?" Shane asked, his tone inquisitive.

Marcy hesitated for a moment before responding, "It was sweet and a bit salty. But it's just like another dessert, Master."

Shane chuckled softly. "Yes, it's not that embarrassing, right? Now, finish your job, and we can go home."

Marcy noticed a small drop of cum still on Shane's penis. Without hesitation, she leaned forward and licked it off, ensuring that she also cleaned his testicles thoroughly. Each lick was a mix of humiliation and obedience, reinforcing her role as a sissy slave.

Shane patted Marcy on the head, a gesture both patronising and approving. "Good girl. Now, let's go home."

Marcy stood up, adjusting her dress and wig. She followed Shane back through the park, her steps more assured but her heart still heavy with the weight of her transformation. The whispers in her ears continued their insistent mantra: "You are a girl. You are beautiful. You will obey. You will follow master order,"

As they arrived back at Spectrum Nights, Shane led Marcy through the familiar hallways and up to her room. The day's events had left her exhausted, but there was a strange sense of acceptance growing within her. Shane stopped at her door and handed her an iPod shuffle.

"From today on, every night you will use these earbuds and listen to this playlist while you sleep," Shane instructed, his tone firm but gentle. "And every morning, you will repeat the mantra I taught you 100 times. Do you understand?"

Marcy nodded, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. "Yes, Master. Thank you for the gift," she said in her most girly voice, blushing deeply.

Shane's approving smile sent a warm shiver down her spine. "Good girl. Now get some rest."

Marcy entered her room, the iPod shuffle clutched in her hand. She felt a strange sense of warmth towards Shane, interpreting his control and manipulation as kindness. As she prepared for bed, she couldn't help but reflect on the day's events. The public humiliation, the deceptive treat, and the walk through the park had all left a lasting impression on her.

Lying down, she put the earbuds in and started the playlist. The ambient music and whispered affirmations filled her ears, soothing her mind. "You are a girl. You are cute. You will obey. You want to suck a cock."

The repetition was comforting in its own way, reinforcing her new identity. As she drifted off to sleep, Marcy found herself missing the feeling of Shane's control. The thought of sucking his cock again brought a strange sense of longing.

As she prepared for her afternoon work, Marcy couldn't shake the longing she felt for Shane. The mix of fear, humiliation, and a twisted form of affection was confusing, but it drove her to want to please him even more. She found herself looking forward to the next time she could serve him, the next time she could prove her obedience and worth.

She dressed carefully, choosing the outfit that would best please her masters. The delicate lace and soft fabrics made her feel both vulnerable and special. As she applied her makeup, she couldn't help but smile, thinking about Shane's approving gaze.

As Marcy stepped out of her room and headed towards her duties, she felt a pang of longing. The memory of Shane's control, his commanding presence, and the humiliating yet oddly satisfying experiences of the previous day lingered in her mind. She found herself yearning for more, wishing she could prove her devotion and submission to Shane once again.

"Maybe," she thought to herself, "if I do well today, Master Shane will reward me." The idea filled her with a mix of anticipation and determination.

With each step she took, Marcy's resolve grew stronger. She was ready to face whatever challenges the day would bring, to serve and obey, and to embrace her new identity as a sissy slave. Her thoughts drifted back to the feeling of Shane's cock in her mouth, the taste, the texture, the sensation of being completely controlled. She wanted to experience it again, to feel that connection, that submission.

As she moved through her tasks, Marcy's mind kept returning to Shane, her desire to please him driving her every action. She knew she had to prove herself, to show that she was a good girl, that she was worthy of his attention and approval.

And so, Marcy continued her work, her heart filled with a strange mix of fear, longing, and determination. She was ready to embrace her role, to become the perfect sissy slave, and to find her place in this new, twisted reality.