Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
They all want the same thing: to shed the heavy cloak of their ingrained manliness and embrace the exquisite lightness of a prissy sissy. To them, I am Mistress Amber, and that title is the first lesson. They come to me, not as men, but as puzzles. Rough, unrefined lumps of masculine expectation, yearning for the delicate touch of my chisel.
My studio is a sanctuary of silks and satins, of soft lighting and the sweet, cloying scent of powders and perfumes. It’s where I perform my artistry. I don’t just dress them in lace and satin, though that is a crucial step. The goal is to ultimately reshape them, from the inside out. Their posture, once broad and assertive, must become pliant, shoulders gently sloped, hands clasped demurely. Their voices, those booming declarations of male ego, must soften, rise, become breathy and almost apologetic.
Embrace Your Prissy Sissy Destiny
“Speak up, darling,” I’ll often murmur, my voice a silken whip, “but do it sweetly. We wouldn’t want to startle anyone, would we?” And they try. Oh, how they try. Their faces contort with the effort of holding back a gruff laugh, or suppressing a sudden urge to stand with their legs apart. It’s a beautiful struggle, watching their ingrained nature fight against the new persona I am crafting. Each clumsy attempt, each faltering step towards complete surrender, is a victory for me.
The rules are simple, yet absolute. They must address me correctly: “Yes, Mistress Amber,” “No, Mistress Amber.” They must ask permission for the slightest indulgence – to sit, to speak, even to breathe too deeply. And they must, above all, behave. Behave, in my world, means absolute obedience, unwavering dedication to their transformation, and the complete suppression of their former selves. It means embracing the frills, the flounces, the delicate tea-sipping mannerisms, and to bend over at my every command. Because we all know, sissy girls LOVE cock. And I have a roster of horny men on speed dial.
And if they don’t? Well, the consequences are never truly harmful. But they are dark. A slip of the tongue, a moment of masculine defiance, and suddenly, their favorite new silk dress might be replaced with a scratchy, ill-fitting pinafore. Or a scheduled hour of delightful pampering might turn into an extended session of meticulous nail painting, their hands quivering under the weight of my silent disapproval. Perhaps a new, even more restrictive corset might find its way into their wardrobe. The “or else” is always a deepening of their submission, a further erosion of the ‘man’ they once were, and they know it. They crave my approval more than anything.
Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
https://phonesexcandy.com/amber