Back in Your Place, Sissy – Where You Belong

---

Oh, you thought I was done with you?

Silly little sissy. That was cute. But no, we’re just getting started.

Now listen carefully.

Get. Back. In. Those. Bra and Panty.

Yes, those ones—the lacy ones that make you blush and wiggle when you look in the mirror. The ones that were never meant for you… and yet, fit your shame perfectly.

Because let’s be real, sweetheart…

You’re not wearing them for comfort.

You’re not wearing them for fashion.

You’re wearing them because it feels so wrong… and yet so deliciously right.

You’re not a queen. You’re not a goddess.

You’re just a soft little sissy, dressed in someone else’s fantasy,

…and begging to be used like the toy you are.

That’s right. A toy. A prop. A giggling, painted, pantied puppet.

And I’m pulling the strings.

---

Let’s paint the picture together, shall we?

You standing there in front of the mirror…

Bra stuffed. Panties tight. Heels wobbling. Wig slightly crooked. Lipstick smudged.

What a vision.

No one’s clapping, darling. They’re laughing.

And you love it. Don’t you?

You’re not special in her clothes.

No matter how much you pose, pout, or play pretend…

You’re not becoming her—you’re becoming mine.

And mine means owned. Obedient. Ridiculous. Adorable. Weak.

A walking daydream in dollar-store glam and delusions.

---

And don’t you dare feel ashamed… unless you’re enjoying it.

Because that shame?

That’s the perfume you wear.

That’s your second skin.

That’s the part of you I love most.

So smile, sissy.

Not because you’re proud… but because I expect you to be.

You will wear that humiliation with pride.

You’ll strut in it. Sway in it. Serve in it.

Because your embarrassment is the most honest thing about you.

---

Now, here’s what I want:

Slide those panties up slowly. Let the fabric remind you what you are.

Adjust that bra. Higher. Tighter. Yes, like you almost have something to show.

Reapply that lipstick. Sloppy. Overdone. Perfectly pathetic.

And then… curtsy for me.

Because this isn’t your fantasy. It’s mine. And I’m letting you live in it.

---

So don’t forget, little one…

You’re not wearing those clothes to be pretty.

You’re wearing them to be owned.

To be seen. Mocked. Controlled. And adored—for your weakness.

And me?

I expect you to wear that shame proudly… like the perfect sissy you are.

Now go on… twirl for me.

That’s a good girl.

---

Mistress loves her pretty little mess.

Now stay in your place.

And don’t take those panties off… unless I say so.

---