Personalised Story: The Professor’s Sissy Maid Part 3 (Patreon)

          As Melvin massaged the lotion into his skin, the soft fragrance filled the room, heightening his senses. Each touch, each smooth glide of the lotion against his skin, left him both acutely aware of his body and intensely frustrated. His skin, now silky and hairless, felt hypersensitive under his hands, each sensation feeding the tension building within him.

           Bound by the chastity device, he could feel the pulse of arousal that had nowhere to go, his body reacting helplessly to the care he was taking. The feminine scent, the softness of his skin, the routine itself—it all left him aching, yet unable to find relief. This mix of vulnerability and anticipation only deepened his frustration, each step of the routine a reminder of his restraint.

          He didn’t want to lose his scholarship, but he also didn’t know what Professor Cross’ program had in store for him next. He wanted to cum and get this thing off his cock and balls, but he knew he was now bound by this program of hers.

          Melvin entered Professor Cross' auditorium, his heart racing with a mix of anticipation and nerves. The room was dimly lit, casting a subtle glow across the stage where she stood waiting, dressed in sleek black latex that caught the light, emphasising her sharp, confident presence. She looked both commanding and flawless, every detail of her attire carefully chosen, from the glint of her heels to the way the latex moved with her as she turned to face him.

         Professor Cross' eyes met his, a slight smile playing on her lips as she took him in. There was an unmistakable air of authority about her, yet she radiated elegance, effortlessly beautiful and poised.

"Good," she said, her voice smooth and even. "You're on time, Melvin. Let's begin."

           In the quiet of the empty auditorium, Professor Cross set up a small table near the stage, arranging a selection of items: a bottle of soft pink nail polish, clear polish for a natural shine, a delicate pair of sheer stockings, a garter belt, and a matching set of pink panties and bra. She motioned for Melvin to sit down on a cushioned stool she’d placed just in front of her, the stage lights casting a warm glow around them.

         She snapped her whip against the ground, her voice sharp as she commanded, “Melvin, strip!”

         He felt a surge of anticipation, his body reacting inside the confinement of the cage, and a flicker of hope that she might release him. “Yes, Mistress,” he replied, quickly shedding his clothes and folding them neatly into a small pile beside him.

          She picked up the bottle of blush-pink polish and held it out with a small, encouraging smile. “Let’s start with your toes,” she said. “You’ll be surprised how these small details can change how you feel.”

          Melvin settled onto the stool, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and vulnerability as he watched her unscrew the polish cap. She lifted his foot, placing it on her latex-covered knee with a graceful ease that made him hyper-aware of his own posture, and dipped the brush into the bottle, carefully applying the first stroke of pink to his big toe.

          “Such a pretty colour for such a pretty foot,” she teased softly, glancing up with a smile that made his cheeks flush. Each delicate touch of the brush filled him with a soothing yet intensely embarrassing awareness of his exposed skin, as if each stroke was drawing out a part of him he hadn’t fully seen before. Her steady precision as she painted each nail left him mesmerised and self-conscious, the glossy hue somehow making him feel even more vulnerable—and yet, strangely, also cared for.

           “There’s something very calming about this, don’t you think?” she asked, moving on to the next toe. Her voice was gentle but purposeful, and her steady attention left him acutely aware of each tiny touch, his pulse quickening despite himself.

            As she finished the last toe, she looked over her work approvingly. “You’re becoming quite lovely, Melvin—delicate, almost girly,” she remarked with a slight smirk. He swallowed, feeling a flush of embarrassment mingle with a quiet, stirring sensation in his cock. By the time she finished, each toe perfectly coated in that soft pink, he felt a surprising shift inside, a quiet transformation he hadn’t anticipated.

            Once his toes were done, she held up a small bottle of clear polish. “Now, let’s add a touch of shine to your hands. This will be subtle but effective,” she explained, handing the bottle to him. She guided him through the motions, helping him angle the brush just right to coat each fingernail with a thin, glossy layer. Her voice was calm and reassuring, showing him how to work slowly to avoid streaks and bubbles.

              “Good,” she murmured when they finished, looking over his hands with approval. “See how a small change can make a difference?”

              Next, she picked up a pair of sheer fishnet stockings, holding one up by the toe and letting the soft fabric catch the light. “Now, stockings are delicate,” she explained, moving closer. “You need to be careful when putting them on.” She showed him how to gather the stocking at the toes and gently roll it up, smoothing it as she went.

              “Now, you try,” she encouraged, handing him the other stocking. Melvin fumbled slightly, the fabric soft and surprisingly tricky to handle, but Professor Cross was patient, guiding his hands as he rolled it up his leg, feeling the sheer fabric glide over his skin, snug against his calf and thigh. The softness heightened his awareness of the clothing against his skin, and he couldn’t ignore the warm embarrassment growing as he felt his cock growing inside the chastity belt. He wasn’t sure if he was getting turned on by Professor Cross, the feminisation or both.

               “There,” she said, once both stockings were on, fastening smoothly just above his knees. She reached for the garter belt and handed it to him. “Now, slide this around your waist. These straps here will attach to the tops of your stockings,” she said, pointing to the small clips.

               With her guidance, he managed to secure each strap, feeling a slight thrill as the garter held the stockings firmly in place. She adjusted the waistband, checking to ensure everything was positioned just so. The sensation of the garter against his skin, combined with the stockings, felt both foreign and oddly empowering, and he found himself acutely aware of every detail. The silken feel of each piece made him blush, his skin tingling with an unusual mix of self-consciousness and subtle excitement.

              Next, she picked up a simple, lace-trimmed bra and panties and motioned for him to slip his arms through the straps of the bra. “Let’s get this on you. It’s not much different from putting on a shirt, just with a bit more finesse,” she said, positioning it on his shoulders and fastening the clasp at his back. She then helped him slide the crotchless panties up his legs until the chastity belt was on display in the centre.

“There,” she said, stepping back to assess her work, her eyes warm with approval. “Now you’re ready.”

              Melvin looked down, taking in the careful transformation. His fingers lightly brushed against the fabric of the stockings, the soft feel of his polished nails catching his eye. Every piece felt purposeful, each detail a step in creating an experience that left him feeling both exposed and remarkably poised. The soft clothes pressed against his skin, each one an ever-present reminder of his vulnerable position. He met Professor Cross’s gaze, her satisfaction unmistakable, as he stood there, simultaneously embarrassed and more aware than ever of the warmth simmering just beneath his skin.

            Professor Cross took a pair of black, fluffy handcuffs and gently secured Melvin’s wrists behind his back. She guided him over her knee, positioning him firmly as she spoke.

           “Melvin,” she said, her tone half-amused, half-disapproving, “I counted eleven stray hairs you missed this morning.”

           Without missing a beat, she delivered a sharp smack to his left ass cheek, the sound echoing in the room. “Naughty boy,” she chided, her voice laced with playful reprimand, letting the words linger as his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

         Melvin couldn’t believe what was happening. Here he was in panties, bra, stocking and garter bent over his professor’s knee as she spanked him calling him a naughty boy.

         He could feel the precum piling out of the chastity belt as this was all felt so right and wrong at the same time.

"Naughty, naughty boy," she said with a condescending smile, delivering another sharp smack to his ass.

          She continued to spank him, her voice firm as she said, “Apologise for being such a naughty boy,” each word punctuated by another sharp smack that left his skin a deep shade of red.

Melvin didn’t know if his ass was redder than his embarrassed face but thought it must be close.

          “Thank you for punishing me, Mistress. I’ve been such a naughty boy who deserves to be punished,” he managed to say, his voice punctuated by gasps as he thanked her between each firm, stinging smack.

            He knew he was leaking over all her latex pants throughout the spanking as he couldn’t believe how hot and wrong this whole situation was.

She then spat on a finger on her right hand and began to insert it into Melvin’s asshole.

He went so red as she continued to spank his ass with her left hand as she told him not to resist it.

Melvin did his best not to resist as his professor worked her finger into and out of his asshole.

         She began to rhythmically move her hand, alternating between gentle touches and firm smacks on his ass, her voice steady as she said, “Such a naughty boy, Melvin. You need to learn your place.”

         Melvin felt a surge of intense humiliation mixed with overwhelming arousal, emotions colliding in a way he’d never experienced before, leaving him breathless and completely off balance.

          She withdrew her finger from his ass, and just as Melvin thought things were over, she began to insert a rubber butt plug into his ass.

He let out a quiet moan in response to its size, but she responded with a firm slap on his ass, saying, “Just take it.”

Eventually, his ass accepted the plug as it went deep inside him.

She instructed him to stand up, laughing softly as he did so.

         Pointing to the damp spot of precum staining her pants, she smirked. “Well, Melvin, it’s clear you enjoy a little attention back there.”

         She uncuffed Melvin and instructed, “Put your regular clothes on over your feminine attire. If you ever want to be released from chastity, this is what you’ll wear underneath from now on.”

          “Yes, Mistress,” he replied, his voice subdued as he quickly began putting on each piece of clothing, his movements hurried and flustered.

          Professor Cross told Melvin to take a seat at the front of the class as it was going to start in twenty minutes.

She then walked over to her podium and began to prepare her lecture.

            Melvin sat in his seat, a mix of arousal and embarrassment overwhelming him. His pink-painted toenails, polished fingernails, and smooth skin—all carefully attended to—left him hyper-aware of every inch of himself. Beneath his regular clothes, he could feel the soft fabric of women’s lingerie hugging his skin, a constant reminder of his situation.

           His chastity device strained uncomfortably, and, as if that weren’t enough, he could still feel the pressure of the large plug she’d left in place, amplifying his flustered state.

           The lecture soon began, and Professor Cross launched into her presentation with a sharp, confident tone. As she reached the end of the first slide, a wicked smile played at the corners of her mouth, hinting at something more beneath her composed demeanor.

          As she pressed the remote to the change the slide on her presentation, the plug inside Melvin’s ass sprung to life and began to vibrate.

          His whole body trembled from the intensity of the vibration, his face flushing bright red as Professor Cross turned to him in front of the entire class and asked, “Is everything alright, Melvin? You seem distracted”

          Melvin's face turned bright red as he struggled to compose himself, barely managing to reply, "Yes, Professor Cross."

          She then clicked her remote to go to the next slide and the plug inside Melvin’s ass started pulsing which made his cock squirm against the chastity belt as he felt streams of precum leaking out of the cage.

         Melvin sat at the front of the class, his face burning as Professor Cross giggled softly each time she changed the presentation slide, fully aware of the effect it was having on him.

        When she changed the slide for the seventeenth time, Melvin felt the plug inside his ass begin to expand. She was now inflating the plug inside his ass to the point where it felt like every crevice was filled with rubber.

         Professor Cross changed several slides in quick succession so the plug had expanded so much, Melvin could almost feel it in his stomach.

         With a devilish smile, she turned to Melvin and instructed him to stand up in front of the entire class.

         Melvin's face flushed a deep red as he struggled to stand, feeling the intense fullness that made every movement a challenge.

         Professor Cross looked at him with a mischievous glint in her eye, leaning casually against her desk as the rest of the class watched in silent amusement.

         "So, Melvin," she began, her voice smooth and teasing, "do you ever find yourself feeling... overwhelmed when taking on something too much to handle?"

        Melvin felt his face flush a deep red as the plug continued to vibrate away in his ass as his cock strained against the chastity belt. He stammered, trying to find his voice. "I-I… I suppose sometimes, Professor."

          She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Interesting," she mused, letting her gaze linger on him. "And how do you manage when things get... let's say, a little too intense?"

            Melvin swallowed, his cheeks growing even hotter as he felt the weight of every eye in the room on him. "Uh… I just… I try to stay focused, I guess," he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

            Melvin’s face flushed bright red as he anxiously wondered if the bra strap might be peeking out—or if his trousers were fully hiding the fishnet stockings beneath.

           Her smirk deepened, and she leaned in closer. "Good answer. It’s important to be able to handle expanding pressure," she said, her tone carrying just a hint of laughter. "And to be prepared for more than you might expect."

The class stifled their laughter, but Melvin couldn’t meet anyone's gaze.

All Melvin could manage was a shaky, "Yes, Professor," which only made her smile widen.

         She instructed him to sit back down and continued with the lecture, each slide change affecting the butt plug inside of him as the chastity belt kept him on edge.

All Melvin could do was wait, his mind racing with anticipation and nerves, wondering what she had planned next in the mysterious program she’d designed just for him.