hi girls!!

one of the first tasks I was given when submitting to and becoming a sissy for my new Mommy was to write an essay of Dedication and Submission to her, and she just told me to post it here! i hope you enjoy!!

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Dedication Essay for My Mommy

With the quickness that her personal ad appeared and instantly disappeared from my screen with an accidental reload, it’s almost terrifying to think I could’ve never spoken to my new Mommy. 

I had always been sexual, starting as a top, for a long while as a switch, and not even a month ago as a vers bottom, considering the vers was just for my male ego. In high school I knew I felt something special for my feminine side, my friends, both boys and girls, would comment on my femininity and how daintily I would walk, and I would just think about how free I feel when I walk in a way that would make my too small hips sway and my nonexistent breasts bounce. I felt sexy, I felt seen, and even when I would have sex with someone as a top, I would hear their moans and in the place of lust and desire, I would feel jealousy. There was a different person inside of me, this I knew. She was this beautiful, sexy, obedient girl waiting to be born, but my guide, my protector, my purpose, a sexy powerful but tender dominant who would show me the way, was nowhere to be seen.

In my desperation, I went to Reddit, a site I never swore I would go to, but any fetish website or dating app was turning up dry with perverts and bots. The site was so overloaded with specificity, so many options to get me started on my journey, Sissy Hypno, Sissy Captions, Sissy Academy. It was like a drug, but like any drug, too much poisoned me, and even these felt stale in time. The beautiful sexy girl inside me was still lost, this time with more roads, thousands of roads, that all lead somewhere that I could not go alone. I went to the personal ads.

I scrolled and perused, mostly for Male masters, as in my foolishness I didn’t think any woman would want me. I don’t know why I thought this, I suppose it’s the stupid selfish boy that was trying to suppress and attack the beautiful woman inside of me. He was afraid of her courage and confidence, but he was scared he’d be left emasculated. So, there I lay in bed, nude, my clit limp from the overstimulation of months if not years of training being slapped across my face with no direction, refreshing the personal ads again and again and again. Until finally, I read something that caught my eye. 20, TF4M, looking for more sissies. I stopped; my clit rose softly for the first time again. I couldn’t believe that she not only wanted sissies like me, but she already had so many, and wanted more. However, my thumb slipped, and the page refreshed, my future Mommy disappearing. 

I panicked, scrolled through subreddits for what felt like hours, studying, and analyzing every personal ad and sissy page I would come across, I must’ve read hundreds. They melted into a thick juice on my screen, with words like “Mommy” or “Slave” or “Gangbang” peeking through the sludge. Why didn’t I get a good look at her name, I huffed to myself, it was Katie or Kenzie or something I swear. It felt futile, like finding a diamond in the mud; no matter how brilliantly the diamond shines, the mud covers everything. 

As pathetic as it sounds, I almost gave up. Almost. I thought to myself of my sissy fantasies if they all came true. I lost weight, shaved clean, got used to riding dick regularly, grew out my hair, was comfortable wearing cages and skirts and panties everywhere I went, truly being someone’s little girl. Formerly, a Master’s little girl. But where a vile cruel male Master stood, I instead pictured my Mommy towering over me, dominant as ever, but kinder to her girl, enjoying her body and mind, letting her shine as the beautiful and powerful woman she knows she could be, a woman that Mommy would be proud to call hers. I would think of her divine cock teasing my lips by slapping my cheek. How, with her permission, I’d lick up her precum and sensually rub and suck and ride it until it blessed me with her delicious cum. I’d see her smile and know that I’ve done my job, I’ve made Mommy happy. The search went on.

Finally, I found it, buried, and hidden in BDSM personals. I’ve come to realize if I was more versed in Reddit, I would’ve found it rather quickly, but that didn’t matter to me. I found her and now I could really read it and see if she might be a good fit for me. I looked back at her posts, twenty-three days ago, seventeen comments and who knows how many personal DMs. There was even a sissy like me, asking if she would like to play with a sissy who is starting from scratch. She seemed so sweet, dominant but caring, stern but sweet, carefully, and lovingly and erotically shaping these curious boys into truly one-of-a-kind women. Not even two days later, I say that my Mommy had acquired nine sissies. I won’t lie, between the nine sissies and the several dozen comments on both posts, I got discouraged. The cruel boy returned, ragging the girl in me that no one would want her, she’s only beautiful if she’s kept locked away, and no Mommy would love her the way she loves her sexier, prettier, more experienced sissies. Either way, even if she didn’t want me as her girl, I loved the way she wrote, I was seeing her character shine through and I loved it, so I read on.

The next post solidified for me that this Mommy was special. She wrote how she wants to learn more lessons for her sissies, she ended it in a way I’ll remember for a very long time. “I want my sissies to embrace their truths fully and live happier, fuller lives”. I felt something so unique stir inside me. I swear I could feel my hips shaping into a more feminine form, I could feel the panties I’ve never worn pinch my ass, I felt a cage around my clit, and I felt the woman inside me burst free. I felt a need to submit and serve and obey that I haven’t in a long time. This Mommy will show me how to be this woman, I thought, she’ll break her free and in return I will be hers.

I messaged her quickly before my adrenaline died and any insecurities rushed back in, and I put my phone away. It didn’t feel right to cum yet, I felt like I was possibly cheating her out of any purity I had left to give. I went to bed with my clit dribbling precum, picturing her in my head, her hands on my chin, making me look up at her, and being called, truly for the first time, a good girl.

I awoke the next morning ravaged by doubt. I didn’t even post any photos, and after some more digging I found some of the posts she commented under encouraging other sissies to join her harem, and I felt so behind. Even if I did join her harem and had the pleasure of being hers, would the other girls judge me and look at me differently? Would I ever catch up? I didn’t know, and without a strong woman to guide me, my anxieties took over.

Until a ding rang from my phone, clear as a bell. It could’ve been anything, a text from my sister, an email, anything. But when I read that my Mommy had accepted my chat invitation, my clit shot up to attention, as though it were a compass showing me who to follow. I gathered myself and with all the untamed femininity and sissiness I could muster tried to show her I had potential, all the while feeling that I was boring her, she had other better sissies to attend to. But then she asked me to write this essay, she sent me her photo, she called me things that made my heart flutter; sweetheart, cutie, even when she teased me, calling me a silly girl, I felt waves of euphoria wash over me, I felt my clit craving her words in my ear as I made her happy, the need to make her happy and to make her cum possessed me. It was all I cared about. I thought it couldn’t get better, and then she named me.

My old name means nothing to me anymore. Its chicken scratch on a birth certificate, nothing more. It’s always felt wrong, anytime I got too tipsy I would reenact the scene from Perks of Being a Wallflower where the main character stares into a mirror while high and says his name until it doesn’t sound real, and he starts laughing. I never laughed much, there’s a harshness to it, it’s got some femininity, but it’s buried under a masculine shadow. In an instant, my Mommy gave me the absolute honor of fixing me. She named me Valerie. The way that name sits on my tongue like warm chocolate, it oozes down my chest like sweat (or hopefully like some other fluid very soon), it was so perfect I could’ve cried. I’m Valerie, nice to meet you, I’m Valerie, pickup order for Valerie, you’re such a good girl Valerie. There wasn’t a sentence you could wrap around it that would make it less perfect, and my Mommy, in all her perfection, thought it up in an instant, as though she already knew.

I’ve been staring at her photograph as I write this essay, which, for an essay confessing my eternal dedication and submission to my new Mommy, has been lacking in that. The reason I’ve spent so long going on and on about the origins of meeting my Mommy, the extraordinary sexy woman she is, is to illustrate how she has already been so deeply planted into my mind. A name, a few kind words, a photograph, and she has unlocked me, and I never wish to be locked again (my clit on the other hand, can’t wait to start). I will dedicate everything to my Mommy, I will not walk a step without hearing her name in the click of my heels against the ground, I won’t breathe a lungful without imagining how sweet the air must taste when she is near. She will be the reason I do anything meaningful, because serving her and being her girl is my meaning, it’s my purpose, I’d be hollow without it. Even now, my inexperience as a sissy fails me in explaining how deeply I will dedicate every erotic sensation, every day, rain or shine, every free moment, every occupied moment, and everything I create to her. I fear only will time and experience give me the words and sentences to tell my Mommy how she is my purpose now, she is my muse and my world, and I hope to just be a small part of hers one day. I would bow to her if she would allow it, I would worship her, praise her, suck, lick, swallow, and get my pussy used by whatever part of her body she pleases. After all, those parts of my body don’t belong to me anymore, they belong to my Mommy, and I know she will treat it with care and love even if that care and love is in the form of discipline or humiliation. I would allow her to do whatever she wishes because submitting to my Mommy and giving her all the pleasure and lust and obedience and passiveness I can muster is my greatest desire. It makes me feel like Valerie, and Valerie is Mommy’s girl, for as long as Mommy would have her, whether that was a day, a year, or forever, Valerie would be good, obedient, submissive, and obsessed.

My body, my mind, my soul, for twenty years it has been mine, and I’ve been good to it in some ways and negligent in others. This has been what those twenty years have been building to, a Mommy, a Mistress, a Goddess, a woman who will show me who I really am. This is all I’ve ever wanted, and I get so excited thinking, if I’m lucky, I will have found that woman in my Mommy. A girl can dream, after all. I would be your most obedient, submissive, malleable, dedicated, loyal, and slutty girl you could possibly have in your harem. I know I don’t even look like a girl now, but give me time, Mommy, and I swear you will never again want for submission or dedication in me. I will have given you anything you could ever want, and all I ask in return is to be called one of Mommy’s girls.

Yours, every bit of me,

Valerie