The White Rabbit - Chapter 1

Finding a needle in a haystack. A diamond in the rough. A four-leaf clover. A unicorn. Waldo.

Whatever idiom or cliche you’d like to use, none of them can accurately portray how difficult it is to find a good, competent online dominatrix.

Let me rephrase.

It is damn near impossible to find an online domme that doesn’t want to drain you of every cent in your bank account, and if you do? It’s a bot…that also wants to drain you of every cent in your bank account.

That didn’t stop me from trying, though.

I traipsed every site I could think of. Fetlife, Reddit, Twitter, 4chan. Begging, pleading for someone to “use this sissy in any way you see fit.” I commented “wish this was me” under every single Tumblr post about sissies getting humiliated in hopes that it would somehow yield a strong, dominant, willing woman to my inbox. I even put an ad on Craigslist.

In all my attempts, the only thing I got was creepy messages from dudes, and bots. LOTS of bots.

The only thing I’d had even moderate success on was Kik. I wouldn’t even call it success, really. More like a handful of messages every now and then from girls interested in seeing me in panties. My cock would be so hard, the g-string I was wearing looked more like a slingshot. But things rarely took off from there.

They either wanted too little from me, outrighted ghosted me, or wanted too much from me.

I know, I sound hypocritical. What do I mean, ‘too much’? Right? Turns out, I’m not willing to spoon feed myself my own shit for someone else’s amusement. Everyone has their limits.

But then, just when I’d abandoned all hope, along came Persephone.

“Hello,” her first message said, what everyone said when they first messaged. Could anything be more boring and uninspiring to a conversation?

But she wasn’t done.

“I found your *adorable* blog on Tumblr and just had to message you.”

Okay, so it’s a bot. Or a findom. One of the two. But usually phishers will have a stereotypical profile picture of some bimbo or a MILF that they ripped from the internet. Persephone’s, however, was a hand drawn image of, well, Persephone. Or at least what I thought was Persephone, I hadn’t really brushed up on my Greek Mythology. Or was it Norse Mythology? Whatever it was, the picture was of a bronze-skinned woman with leaves and flowers going through her auburn hair. She was clutching skulls in her left hand, and eating what looked like a pomegranate in the other.

“Just tell me how much your tribute is.” I shot back coldly.

It took several seconds for her to reply. Usually bots had an automated response that would give their list of demands (in poorly written english) as well as a price tag.

“Tribute? What’s a tribute?” she eventually said. “I just want to see you in panties.”

I was skeptical, but let’s be honest, any submissive sissy would already be intrigued by the prospect at this point.

I quickly found my lacy pair of pink ones, my favorite.

“Cute!” she replied after I sent her a picture of the panties just beneath my shirt. “But now take the rest of your clothes off so that you’re only wearing those.”

Again, I still had my reservations, but that didn’t stop me. I positioned my phone on the dresser. Trying to get just the right angle and distance to show off my body, without showing my face. I definitely didn’t trust whatever this was enough to put even a modicum of my identity out there.

I wasn’t in great shape by any means, but I wasn’t overweight either. ‘Flabby’ would probably describe it best.  It occurred to me just then that I should start going to the gym. It took me several attempts to get a shot I was happy with. I quickly uploaded it to the chat and hit send. A part of me was worried that if I didn’t go fast enough, I would end up losing her.

“You’re such a pretty sissy!” She replied shortly after. It was oddly comforting. I felt validated. “Do you have anything in black?

This was really happening, not only was someone showing interest in me, but they haven’t even asked for money yet.

I got out my black g-string. In my angst to get it on I pulled up a little too far and flossed my crack a bit. It singed from the friction, but I ignored it. Tucking my erection into the waistband so it was held upwards.

“Hahaha! That one makes you look super slutty! And look how happy your clitty is! What other colors do you have?”

I spent the next half an hour going through the various pairs of panties I’d accrued over the years, modeling each and every one of them for her. Persephone was just the right amount of encouraging, dominating, and wicked.

“Your tushy looks great in that one.”

“I bet I could make your cheeks that same shade of red.”

“Wiggle that butt and tell me you’re a sissy slut!”

My body was shaking. No, more like shivering. It had to be because I was naked and cold. Or was it? There was an icy chill flowing through my veins. A pressing weight from the intensity of the thrill. Like when you ride a roller coaster. You know you’re probably safe, but that doesn’t stop you from getting paranoid, panicky, and excited all at the same time. I could feel my heart thumping through my chest.

“Are you ready to wet your panties?” She eventually asked.

There it was. For some reason things always had to escalate into toilet stuff. I know beggars can’t be choosers when it comes to getting dominated, but I really wish I wasn’t so picky.

“I’d rather not piss myself 😔” I told her.

I hoped she’d understand, I hoped she’d be lenient, I hoped I didn’t scare her away.

It took a long time for her to respond, or maybe it just felt like it did. But eventually my phone pinged.

“Not piss yourself, silly. I was asking if you wanted to wet them with cummies. Even though it looks like you’re already halfway there with your pre-leakies 😏”

My face flushed in embarrassment even though she wasn’t even there. It was just words, but it still had an effect on me. How could someone without a face and a voice still make me feel so small? It was intoxicating.

“Touch your itty bitty clitty for me, sissy.”

She was so poignant, so forward without sounding demanding, like I was comforted but under her thumb all at the same time.

I reached into my panties. I’d be lying if I said it was the first time since we started chatting. My cock had been screaming to be touched since the first or second message. I obliged it several times while being careful not to go too far. I didn’t want this scene to end. But now I had permission.

I reached into my panties and wrapped my hand around my cock. It wasn’t the biggest, maybe 4  and a half inches, 5 on a good day. Right now it felt like I was pushing 6. I had to stop because I was getting too excited. I sent her the video, doing my best not to touch myself again and cum too soon.

“I’m sorry…” she said after I sent her a 30 second video of me slowly stroking. I was confused, until she said “is that how someone in panties is supposed to be touching themselves??”

Ok. I was still confused.

“How should I do it, Miss?”

“Call me Goddess.” She replied. “And you should do it like most girls do when they play with themselves: one finger, on the sensitive part of your clitty. Do NOT stroke.”

I flushed again. This was so humiliating, but I was achingly erect. I propped my clit—err—cock up into my waistband again. It was enough for the head to stick up just above it. I dipped my finger into my mouth and wet it with saliva to lubricate it. Not that I needed to. As soon as I touched the frenulum at the bottom part of my penis, I noticed it was covered with precum.

I aimed my phone at myself, seeing how pathetic I looked on the screen as I started swirling my finger back and forth along the tiny, sensitive line.

I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I heard a pitiful, high-pitched sigh escape my lips. It wasn’t a lot of stimulation, but apparently I didn’t need much. I felt the urge to cum again.

I had to stop myself. I didn’t want to go yet. I wanted to stay in this headspace forever. I scanned through the video real fast to make sure I didn’t accidentally show my face, then hit send.

“God you’re so fucking pathetic! Lol. Such a horny sissy! I can hear you making little girly moans! But I want them to be louder. I want you moaning like a fucking whore while you beg me to let you cum in your sissy panties!”

I didn’t have to embellish much, just had to stop suppressing the sounds I wanted to make, and bring them up an octave so they were a higher pitch.

“You’re doing so good, baby girl!” She teased after I sent her another 30 seconds of me moaning and whimpering. Normally I would be a bit put off by being called a baby, but nothing could stop me now.

“Please let me cum, Goddess! Please!” I squeaked. I had two fingers rubbing my clitty as I anxiously awaited her reply.

“You can cum. But I want you repeating ‘I'm a sissy making stickies in my panties’ the whole time. And I want to see your face while you do it.”

I gulped. My cock retreated a bit at that last sentence. I hardly knew this girl. I couldn’t even be sure she was a girl. And what would she do with a video like that? What I'm doing is far from illegal, but it’s still not something I would like being spread around.

“Do I have to show my face?” I asked.

“Yes.” She replied, “but only if you’re comfortable… and if you want to cum 😉”

‘Only if you’re comfortable.’ For some reason, that made me feel better, like she had my best interest at heart, but still maintained a firm grip on my psyche.

I did want to cum. Probably more than ever. But I didn’t want to put my face out there. I never had before, was this the time to start?

Yes. The horny devil on my shoulder told me instantly. I didn’t even hear the angel, no idea where that guy was right now.

I sighed as I opened my camera again. Pulling my arm back a little further than normal so as to allow my face to join the rest of my splayed out body on the floor. My cheeks were a bright red, whether from embarrassment or being more horny than I've probably ever been in my life, I couldn’t be sure.

“I’m a sissy making stickies in my panties” I said as I fingered my clitty. It was weird saying something out loud, basically to yourself, in an empty apartment.

“I’m a sissy making stickies in my panties!” I had to close my eyes because I didn’t want to see how pathetic I looked on the screen. Unfortunately, there was no way for me to stop myself from hearing it.

“I’m a s-sissy,” my legs were shaking, I could feel the pressure building like a volcano about to erupt, “m-making st-stickies in my…my…PANTIES!!”

I practically shouted the last word as my clit erupted into the soft, silky material. It just kept going. Spurt after hot, sticky spurt of jizz into my red panties. They were now a darker shade of crimson as the wetness spread through them. It was probably one of the biggest loads I’ve ever made, but the fabric itself was terrible at absorbing any excess. It was all sloshy and gushy inside, and the creamy load made its way all the way down the thin line to my taint and crack.

My libido evaporated and was replaced by a bit of shame. But even with my post-nut clarity, I was blinded by the power Persephone held over me. I wanted to impress her. I wanted to please her.

“Thank you for letting me make cummies in my panties, Goddess” I said before hitting stop on the video.

If there was ever a time to go back on my word about showing my face, it would be now. I didn’t have to send it. I could just move right on and she would never be the wiser. She would probably forget about me and move on to some other sissy to play with.

But that realization hit with a pang of jealousy. I wanted to be the one she played with. I wanted to be the one she called a slut and even a ‘baby girl’.

Women like this didn’t come around often, or like…ever.  I didn’t want to lose my chance with her.

The angel on my shoulder finally appeared. “You just met her an hour ago.” it said, “you actually haven’t even met her yet. Who knows what she could do? Who knows if she’s even a ‘she’?”

Valid points, all of them. But even without my horniness intact, the devil was winning.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” he said. “Opportunities like this don’t come often. If you let her get away, you’ll be kicking yourself.”

After several seconds of deliberation, I made my decision:

I hit send.

I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?

It was the waiting game that was torture. The message indicated that it had been read. She was probably watching it now. But after several minutes, the length of the video had passed. If she was watching it, she had to have finished by now. What was she doing?

Then the screen changed. Persephone is typing…

“Good job, sissy slut! You sure made quite the mess! Now it’s time for me to upload it everywhere and send it to all your friends!”

Fuck!

God damn it!

Oh god oh god oh god…

How could I be so stupid??

I knew. I knew she would do this! I should have fucking listened to myself. That little inkling of doubt and reason. The one you realize was there only after you fuck something up.

What will my friends think when they see me gushing into panties? What will my Mom think??

My phone pinged again.

“Just kidding!” it read, “Oh how I WISH I could have seen your face!! 😂”

The gravity was turned off in the building. All the crushing weight had been lifted. I didn’t even know what to say, I was just happy I could breathe again.

“You got me…haha 😅”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if I made you do something *else* in your panties too 😉”

I didn’t exactly know what she meant by that. But I didn’t question it. I was just happy to have her still talking to me.

“Well I’m off to bed, sissy. And in case you haven’t guessed: You will be sleeping in your gushy panties all night. Sweet dreams!”

To be continued…

I realize this may not have been the most exciting first Chapter. But I do plan on continuing this story for quite a while. I just wanted to do a sort of slow burn to flesh out some things first. Things will get better, I promise :)