Beijing Dominatrix Journal | Corsets and Control: An Italian Sissy’s Public Outing
The moment I step into the luxurious hotel lobby, I can already feel the nervous energy radiating from my newest Italian sissy. He messaged me 5 days ago, desperate for my guidance, craving transformation under my strict yet elegant touch.
I knock at his door once. A hesitant shuffle behind the door, then it creaks open. He stands there, awkward, eyes darting to the floor, wearing nothing but a plain robe. Pathetic. Exactly how I like them before I mold them into something beautiful.
I step inside, closing the door behind me with a deliberate click. “Strip,” I command, my tone soft but absolute. His hands tremble as he lets the robe slip off, revealing a body waiting to be perfected. I circle him like a predator, tilting his chin up. “Tonight, Beijing will witness your transformation. You are no longer a man — you are my sissy.”
I begin by setting out the essentials: a silky pink lingerie set, a satin corset, thigh-high stockings, and the pièce de résistance — an adorable pastel Lolita dress adorned with lace and ribbons. The heels? A modest 4 inches — just enough to make him struggle but not collapse.
Shaving: I lead him to the bathroom, watching as he carefully removes every trace of masculinity under my watchful gaze. A single missed patch, and I will punish him.
Makeup: Back in the room, I guide him through the delicate art of femininity. Foundation to smooth his skin, soft pink blush to bring out his innocence, eyeliner to elongate his eyes, and a glossy pink lipstick that begs for attention.
Dressing: First, the lace panties slide up his legs, followed by the bra stuffed with soft, realistic breast forms. The corset cinches his waist, forcing him into a more delicate shape, and the dress glides over his body like it was made for him.
Accessories: A pearl choker fastened tightly around his neck. A golden anklet — his silent mark of ownership. A dainty handbag, holding only the essentials: lipstick, tissues, and a small card that reads, “If found lost, please return to Mistress Alessandra.”
Once dressed, I have him walk for me. He stumbles, unused to the heels. “Pathetic,” I smirk, correcting his posture by pressing a firm hand to his lower back. “Keep your head high. A proper sissy carries herself with grace.”
The Public Outing — Wangfujing Shopping Street
The real test begins. I lead my sissy out of the hotel, my hand resting lightly on his lower back, a silent reminder that I am in control. As we step into the busy Wangfujing shopping district, his breath quickens. The crowd is thick, the lights bright — there is no escape.
“Your task,” I say, guiding him toward a lingerie store. “You will walk in, pick out a pair of panties, and ask the cashier if they suit you.” His eyes widen with fear, but I simply raise a brow. “Disobedience is not an option.”
I watch from the entrance, arms crossed, as he stutters through his request. The cashier, a young woman, giggles but obliges. When he returns, I inspect his purchase. Lace-trimmed, soft pink — acceptable. “Good girl,” I murmur, rewarding him with a stroke along his jawline.
