Sissy tramp stamp. What does mine look like?
An addicted little sissy leaning fanboy of mine had a dream last night. In it, he and his wife were getting tattoos with my mark on them. I love those kinds of dreams.
If there’s one thing I love even more than turning a man into a sissy, it’s him into a sissy and having him also coerce his wife or girlfriend into becoming my little slave fuck-toy.
The image above is a phrase in Hebrew that my ex-lover wears on his back. (Sorry, I couldn’t find a picture of it on his skin.) He was more of a pain slut than a sissy, but being a devoted pet, he took my mark as if I were bestowing a great gift upon him.
The original phrase is from the Song of Soloman where the words “Ani l’dodi v’dodi li” translate as “I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.” Though, that’s a statement about a man The female version is “Ani l’ahuvati.” (Thank you to the reader who corrected my weak Hebrew grammar. )
I Wasn’t Always a Sissy Mistress
When I was younger, I thought it would be nice to have the first part tattooed on my lower back. I planned to get the second half done when I was married. It was kind of a romantic reminder that somewhere out there, the man I wanted was waiting, even if I hadn’t met him yet. What can I say? I was young. I probably had Cinderella singing “Some Day My Prince Will Come,” playing in the background when I came up with it.
The first time I was asked what sissy tramp stamp I would put on a slave, the answer was a no-brainer. I would mark a sissy with that phrase. “I am my beloved’s.” What had once been a notion of romantic hope could easily translate into a sign of sissy ownership. I made sure each sissy understood it was part of a longer phrase. They know that intentionally leaving off the second half was accepting that they may surrender to me, but I would never be mutual.
The sissy boys and pseudo-slaves whacked off like mad as they thought about being branded like a piece of property. Then they would forget about it until the next time. Only the one had the balls and the temerity to take my mark. Or was that just the lack of foresight? After all, we’re no longer together.
What became of my marked sissy?
I haven’t seen him in years. I hope he’s doing well. Now he walks around with my mark on his back as a perpetual reminder of how he was owned by me. That said, he knew the story of how I came up with that phrase as my mark, so perhaps he’s changed the message of the tattoo in his mind. Perhaps now he looks at it and thinks, as I used to, “someday my prince will come.” ..After all, I now know my grammar was wrong and his tattoo literally says he belongs to a man.
He’s just sissy enough to love it. Are you?