Daddy’s Sissy Staircase Ch. 01

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I’ve cleared my calendar for the afternoon and going to be spending this time with my fwb Daddy. On the drive over to his place, it got me thinking, he and I have been FWBs for a long time, and this story is an attempt to chronicle how I went from being a newbie sissy wannabe to his addicted, shameless cock slut. This is my first submission ever here; I hope some of you enjoy the read!

I first got in contact with my Daddy several years ago, back in the heyday of Craigslist. He was searching for sissies or sissy wannabees, basically anyone who would come over to his place and service him. The clothing, the dress up was optional, but something that he enjoyed, and he would support and encourage. I had dabbled with dress up at various times in my life, starting back at puberty. Not something I pursued over long periods of time, but would do it here and there, throw everything I had accumulated away, and not come back to it again for some number of years. So here I am reading this ad from a guy wanting to have a sissy visit him on a regular basis, letting him be “the feeder that would deliver his essence into the mouth and stomach of a willing sissy slut”.

Well, I replied to this post, replied that maybe I would be interested, what could it hurt? If nothing else, the online trading of a few emails would be titillating, and would not go that far, I was sure. So, we traded emails over a period of weeks, and I actually began to think seriously about visiting him – he seemed safe and sane and was interested to learn about me before extending an invite. If I were to accept a visit, his rules were oral service only, I would be submissive to him, he would get serviced to his satisfaction with absolutely no reciprocation.

I learned he was a divorced, mature guy, a retired professional, with a flexible, open schedule. He mentioned that he lived in a discreet location, on a very quiet dead end street which had no traffic whatsoever except for the handful of residents on his street.

The trading of the emails was SO exciting! Every message he sent got me instantly hard and after reading them and closing my email, I’d be thinking of him the whole rest of the day. He assured me we would always be safe and totally discreet – no one would ever know. He told me I would love being his nasty sissy slut and that I would learn to love getting dressed up sexy for him and consuming his seed. He told me about the array of clothes, stockings, high heels, and wigs waiting for me. I would learn, in the coming weeks, all of this was very, very true. We met the very first time in a store parking lot close to his place. We drove up to each other, recognizing our respective vehicle descriptions – he rolled down his window, high up in his super duty truck, he looked down on me in my car – “Are you my John?” and then chuckled to himself (FYI, John was part of my fictional email name).

I nodded meekly and he directed me to follow him. As described, he lived in a super-quiet, clean, middle-class neighborhood. My heart was pounding as I followed him into the driveway. Getting out of our vehicles, we shook hands and walked into his house.

Some elements of our ongoing meetings, years later, are the same as this first meeting. He walked me down the hallway of his house, and pointed into a guest bedroom, the ‘sissy dressing room’, looking escort fatih in, I nearly fainted. “You can get dressed here; I’ll wait for you back in the living room.”

I gulped and looked back at him, he nodded to go ahead and do it, and waved his hand at me for me to go in the room “Don’t be too long!”

The small bedroom was incredible, a crossdresser’s dream. There were two single beds set perpendicularly in one corner of the room. One of the beds had an array of panties, brassieres, panty hose, and thigh high stockings. Many of the stockings were brand new in unopened packages, all colors and styles. The second bed displayed an array of skirts, garter belts, ankle socks with bows, and body stockings. In another corner was a bookshelf, with an array of at least six different wigs, different color hair, style, and lengths. Also, on the shelves were a nice assortment of jewelry. Along the long wall was a set of lingerie items, things like teddies and negligees, and mini dresses, hung up on the curtain rod. Down below, along the baseboard, were high-heeled pumps and sandals, arranged neatly in pairs. In the last corner was a dresser with mirror, and all sorts of makeup. My heart pounding, and all alone in the room, I turned and turned looking everything over many times. I stopped, took a deep breath, and started to take off my street clothes.

In the middle of the room sat a single dining room chair, for the purpose of getting dressed and hanging up my own clothes, I guessed. Peeling off piece by piece, I soon stood there naked, my penis, soon to be only referred to as a clittie, became erect and stood parallel to the floor. I found a short, pink negligee and slipped it on over my head. The feeling of satin on my bare skin was a definite turn on! I found a pair of thigh high stockings, in black, that had a nice firm elastic top band. Sitting down, unrolling them out of the package, the feeling was delicious as I slipped the hose up my long legs. I found a pair of 3″ heels that fit and slipped on a dark brunette mid-length wig. My ‘clittie’ was now throbbing, and leaking, drop after drop. I added a dangly pair of clip-on earrings, and a pearl necklace.

Was I done and ready to go out into the living room? Well, I looked over the makeup and decided maybe it would be ok to put on some lipstick. Although there were many lipsticks lined up, turned out all of them were fire engine red – Daddy’s favorite color. I picked up a stick, took the cover off, and twisted out the red creamy stick. Looking into the mirror, I put two thick coats on top and bottom lips.

The walk out of the bedroom was unsteady, I was not used to those heels! We still engage in this practice, this part of our get togethers, I walk out of ‘my’ room, and walk down the hallway to the living room. Although now he greets me in the nude, I recall that day he still had his trousers on. “Here’s My Sissy Slut!” he called out.

I walked toward him, nervous as could be, and getting close, I stopped, my mouth dry, and looked into his eyes. Now I will say, for an older guy, Daddy is a very handsome guy, easy to look at. He had a serious, stern, intentional look on his face, and opened his mouth: “Now tell me, sissy, tell me why you are here.”

I swallowed, and knew the answer he wanted, and that I needed to say it. “I’m here to suck your escort istanbul cock.”

He smiled, just a bit, “Very good answer, let’s get down to it then.”

His fly was unzipped, and he reached in with one hand, and pulled out one of the most beautiful cocks I ever laid eye on in I my life. It was average in size, maybe 6 inches or a bit more, but cut, with a beautiful enlarged head, clean, and clean shaved as were his balls, I would find out in another minute or two. One of the things I would grow to love about my Daddy was how squeaky-clean he was when we met, every single square inch of him. I know some sissies like a manly, musky aroma, but I prefer that ‘just out of the shower’ clean smell. He was always shaved and trimmed down below, not once have I ever seen a long curly pubic hair on him. I reached out with one hand and held his rigid shaft in my palm, and before I could give it a single stroke, I found his hands on my two shoulders, pressing me both firmly, yet gently, to my knees. I was not hard for me to obey, sinking my knees into the plush carpet.

Now my face was just inches from his erection. I licked my lips, and looked up into his eyes, and saw just a very gentle nodding of his head, his urging me to get on with the purpose of my visit. I opened wide and took him into my mouth, keeping eye contact as my tongue explored the silky, soft skin covering the rock-hard flesh of his penis, inside, underneath. His eyes closed and his head tilted back, and I became his sissy for the first time, my reason to be there was to provide pleasure, to please my Daddy.

That first time, I must have spent thirty minutes or more, in my quest to hit pay dirt, to get Daddy’s essence, his seed, into my mouth. We moved from the middle of the living room to the couch, where Daddy sat, and I was on my knees at his feet I moved back and forth between kissing, licking and sucking his hard shaft, and his silky, shaved balls. Soon, I wasn’t thinking twice about anything else, it was a delicious treat to have his smooth sac in my mouth, my tongue darting around and licking those two oval orbs. I was in sissy heaven, as l worked away on Daddy, my clittie, inside a pair of skimpy lacey panties, was hard, swollen, warm, and leaking precum. Finally, after combinations of mouth only, and mouth and stroking the base of his hard shaft with my fingers, I could feel Daddy buck and flex his hips back and forth, slapping his whole torso into my face. The pulsing in the base of his cock grew stronger and stronger, and one after another, rounds of warm cum were delivered into my mouth.

I savored the mouthful, swishing it around in my mouth before swallowing it all down. We both came down from that high, my head resting on my inner thigh, as the thoughts of what transpired over the last hour or more ran through my head. My heart was pounding, how exhilarating and exciting that first blow job was! The combination of being submissive to this man, dressed up in an incredibly sexy way (at least I thought so, on that first visit), and being a bisexual slut and sucking his cock all swirled around in my mind. I had drained him, he felt like he had enough.

Now it was my turn, the beginning of a ritual we have carried to today: Daddy gets serviced to his heart’s desire, and then when that is done, sissy performs for Daddy, escort bayan taksim and is allowed to get herself off.

Daddy finally got up and brought to me a small metal cup and a small hand towel: “Shoot your sissy juice into that cup, and I’ll save it in my freezer, and feed it to you, or another sissy on another day.”

On my knees still, I worked my rock-hard clittie with one hand, holding the cup in the other. After just a few minutes, I was ready – I pointed the tip of my clittie into the cup, and squirted shot after shot of my hot cum into the cup. Looking at what was happening, I was wide-eyed, I’m not sure I ever recall, in my whole life, delivering more cum in one ejaculation!

Phew, I was an emotional wreck, drained, shaky, spent. We sat together on the couch and debriefed on what just happened. I was encouraged to relax. Daddy always made it a point, in his hosting, to provide a comfortable, safe place. And I think it was a big part of the reason why I came back repeatedly, over many years, still to the present day.

I do not even recall how soon I revisited Daddy, it might have been a little bit, a few weeks or a month or so. Certainly, the loss of sexual energy and desire after an experience like that was considerable. But after a few days, I became horny and wanting more, and began to crave and anticipate that ‘dopamine high’ that accompanied that first visit. So exciting and exhilarating, visit by visit, month by month, year by year, Daddy would add activities and incentives to add to the excitement.

I smile when I think about it, I know that the dress up outfits that I wore those first few months, although incredibly sexy to me at the time, would now, based on my present sissy wardrobe, be considered ‘grandmother’ lingerie.

Over time, I learned that Daddy enjoyed seeing my hard, swollen clittie bounce around in the air, as my head would bob back and forth, up and down on his beautiful penis.

We moved from sexy panties, to crotchless panties, to crotchless string thong panties. Nighties and teddies gave way to costumes like the naughty schoolgirl and sissy maid, to crotchless and open cupped bustiers and corsets. We went through a leather period, we keep, in his sissy dressing room, a hot black leather fetish corset, and recently added a couple (red and black) halter top, open cupped corsets. These last two are SO exciting to wear, the snugness as you lace up, and the halter top, gives me B-sized boobs poking out of the corset top.

I’ve learned to lace up and tighten a corset on my own, in my dressup room. The clothes, of course, are part of the formula we have derived together. Daddy encourages me to always take things up a notch with him, one baby step at a time.

He’s seducing me, on all sides, to be addicted to the visits, to him, to his hard cock; I’ve gladly been a co-conspirator in this sissy seduction. The clothes have been a required part of the formula; we’ve done this together. On my own, I would shop online for some dress up items that Daddy would then order. Sometimes I buy things, sometimes we order things and Daddy gifts them to me. I would send him a list of items, and ask him to review them, and order what he thought was the sexiest item. Sometimes, a surprise item shows up that Daddy has purchased on his own, just for me.

The anticipation, of seeing a brand-new item, in a shipping box or envelope, sitting on the dressing chair, as I enter the dressing room, is part of the thrill that I began to associate with visits to my new Daddy.

In Chapter 2, more details about how I began to sink deeper!

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