Chapter 2: Visual Conditioning
The cold steel of the cage was a constant, dull pressure against your groin as you lay in bed, the silken lingerie a ghost against your skin. Three days. The lingerie stayed on, the cage stayed locked, Dominique’s final command a loop in your head. Your fingers, tracing the lace edges, were drawn again and again to the throbbing, empty ache behind the cage, that hungry sissy hole she’d awoken. It was a deeper, more desperate need than any itch of your imprisoned cock. The laptop glowed on the nightstand. You opened it. The interface loaded instantly. Dominique’s face materialized, those golden eyes seeming to look directly into your shame. "Bambi," she breathed, the word a caress and a command. The screen split. Her face stayed, observing, while beside her, a video began to play. It was a close-up, unflinching: a thick, veined black cock, glistening with lube, nudging against a pink, fluttering hole. "Watch," Dominique whispered. The cockhead pressed, stretched, and slowly, inexorably, penetrated. A sissy’s high, desperate gasp filled your speakers. Your own hole clenched, a phantom fullness making you squirm against the sheets. "You feel it, don't you, Bambi?" Dominique’s voice was a low hum. "That empty ache? That need to be stretched open? To be used?" You nodded, a whimper escaping your lips. "Beg," she said, her tone leaving no room for refusal. "Beg Bambi Maker to let you feel it." "Please," you choked out, your hand already moving down, fingers slipping beneath the lace to find your own hot, tight entrance. "Please, Dominique." "Louder." "Please fill me!" you moaned, your fingertip circling the quivering rim. "Please fuck my sissy hole!" On screen, the cock began to piston faster, deeper, the wet slap of flesh a brutal rhythm. "Good girl," Dominique purred. "Now get your toy. The black one. Lubricate it. Slick it up until it shines, just like that beautiful BBC on your screen." You fumbled for the dildo, your hands shaking, coating it thickly as the sissy on screen screamed, taking a brutal pounding. "Present yourself," Dominique commanded. "On your knees, back to me. Show Bambi Maker that needy, empty hole." You obeyed, your body humming with a terrifying need. The cold, slick tip of the dildo found your entrance as you watched, hypnotized, by the relentless fucking on screen. "Now," Dominique’s voice sliced through the moans, "take it. Take it like she does. Show me you can be a good sissy slut for BBC." You pushed back, a cry tearing from your throat as the thick silicone breached you, stretching you wide, filling that desperate void with a brutal, beautiful burn.
The stretch was a white-hot wire, a searing claim that blurred the line between pain and perfect fullness. You held there, impaled, trembling, your knuckles white on the dildo’s base as the image on the screen burned into your mind: that gaping, willing hole taking every thick, black inch. "Breathe into it, Bambi," Dominique cooed, her voice a dark anchor in the storm of sensation. "Feel your slutty little hole accepting its purpose. It's stretching for Superior Cock. It's being remade."
You exhaled a shuddering breath, the tight ring of muscle fluttering wildly around the invading girth, each pulse a shockwave of shameful pleasure. "Now move," she commanded, her tone leaving no room for stillness. "Fuck yourself on it. Pretend it’s a real BBC splitting you open." You pulled back slowly, the drag an exquisite, brutal scrape against raw nerves, then slammed back down, the base smacking your sore flesh. A guttural "ungh" punched from your lungs, ragged and deep.
"Faster, Bambi," Dominique urged, her own voice thickening with dark approval. "Look at the screen. See how she takes it? How she begs for more?" The sissy in the video was sobbing, "More, please, more, fuck my sissy cunt," her words slurring around her drool. You matched her rhythm, your hips pistoning now, the wet, slapping sounds filling your bedroom, harmonizing with the filthy soundtrack from your speakers. Your caged clit strained uselessly, a dull throb completely overshadowed by the deep, internal pounding that was unlocking something primal.
"Your hole is getting sloppy, isn't it?" Dominique observed, a smirk in her voice. "Sloppy and hungry. It’s swallowing that toy, begging for the real thing. Admit it." You could only nod, your world narrowing to the hard fucking and her voice. "Say it, slut," she pressed. "Tell Bambi Maker what your hole needs."
"Real BBC," you gasped, the words torn from you with each downward thrust. "It... it needs a real... big black cock!" The confession unleashed a deeper wave of submission, your rhythm becoming frantic, desperate. A pressure was building, coiling low in your gut, wholly unfamiliar—not centered in your locked-up dick but radiating from your ravaged, stretched core. Your vision began to fray at the edges, your moans becoming one constant, high-pitched whine.
"Come on, Bambi," Dominique whispered, her voice hypnotic. "Let it happen. Cum from getting your ass fucked like a good sissy. Cum from your hungry, used hole." The command shattered your last resistance. The coil snapped. A raw, blinding wave of pure, mindless pleasure erupted from your ass, convulsing through your entire body, making you scream as you milked the fake cock with violent, clutching spasms. You collapsed forward onto the sheets, the dildo still buried inside you, your body twitching as the aftershocks rolled through your utterly conquered form.
"You see?" Dominique murmured, her image the only thing clear in your blurry vision. "That’s your pleasure now. That’s Bambi. Nothing else matters."
Dominique’s words hung in the humid air, a final, absolute truth. You lay there, wrecked and twitching, the dildo a heavy, spent weight inside you. A slow, warm trickle traced a path down your inner thigh. Your caged clit, utterly ignored during the brutal anal climax, had wept a pathetic stream of clear fluid, leaking onto the sheets like a girl’s desperate arousal. The proof of your submission was a cold, sticky shame against your skin.
The cold stickiness on your thigh felt like a brand. Dominique’s low chuckle vibrated through the speakers, a sound of pure, predatory satisfaction. “Look at that,” she murmured, her golden eyes fixed on the damp patch she couldn’t possibly see but somehow knew was there. “Your sissy cunt dripping, all from getting your ass pounded. Nothing else matters.”
A new video flickered to life beside her face. It was a close-up, extreme and unflinching. A gaping, well-used hole, pink and glistening, was being slowly spread open by two gloved fingers. The text OVER 18 pulsed in the corner, a stark, clinical label for the obscene imagery. “This,” Dominique whispered, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush, “is the goal. A properly trained, over-18 gaping sissy hole. Used. Open. Always ready.”
Your own entrance clenched instinctively around the still-embedded toy, a tight, protesting spasm. The image revolted you. It thrilled you. “It looks… ruined,” you breathed, horrified and fascinated. Dominique’s smile was beatific. “It looks perfect. It looks useful. A tight little hole is a selfish hole, Bambi. A gaping hole is a welcoming hole. It says ‘I’ve been used for Superior pleasure, and I’m ready for more.’ It’s your final truth.”
She let the video play, the fingers working slowly, stretching the glistening pink rose wide. “Now, Bambi, slowly. Pull your toy out. I want you to see. I want you to feel the space it leaves behind.” Your shaking hand obeyed, drawing the thick silicone out with a wet, obscene sound. The sudden, cool emptiness was a shock, a violent hollowing. You felt loose. Exposed.
“Touch it,” Dominique commanded, her voice leaving no room for hesitation. Your trembling fingertips brushed your swollen rim. It was puffy, sensitized, and yielding under the lightest pressure. A deep, shameful throb pulsed from within the new, tender space. “Feel how open you are? How empty?” she pressed. “That emptiness is a prayer. It’s a beg.” A fresh, clear droplet of your own fluid seeped out, tracing the same path down your thigh. “Good girl. Now, show me. Show Bambi Maker what her good little slut has learned.”