There’s a certain elegance in control. An art in dominance that not all can master. Mistress Classy, draped in black latex and pearls, is the embodiment of refined cruelty. Her heels echo authority, her gaze commands obedience, and tonight, her submissive sissy would learn a whole new meaning of surrender.

But she wasn’t alone tonight.

Velvet Vixen stepped into the dungeon like a dream in motion. Her thighs hugged by sheer stockings, lips a glossy crimson, and confidence pouring from every sway of her hips. A high-class travestie queen with a sadistic streak, and tonight, she had an eager itch to scratch.

Mistress Classy turned to greet her, one gloved hand wrapped around her glass of red wine. “Darling, you’re right on time. He’s been acting out. Thought he could be a brat and get away with it.”

Velvet Vixen smirked, eyes locking on the trembling sissy kneeling in pink lace. “This little thing? He’s adorable. But that attitude won’t do. Shall we break him in together?”

The sissy’s eyes widened. “M-Mistress, I… I didn’t mean to”

“Silence,” Mistress Classy snapped, her voice velvet-wrapped steel. “You don’t speak unless we ask. Is that clear?”

He nodded quickly, lips quivering. “Y-Yes, Mistress…”

Velvet Vixen approached slowly, dragging her long nails down his cheek. “So soft. So pretty. But do you know what happens to naughty little sissies who misbehave in front of guests?”

He shook his head, cheeks flushed.

“You get used,” she purred, lips brushing his ear. “And humiliated.”

Mistress Classy stepped behind him, uncoiling a crop from the wall. “Velvet, be a dear and bend him over the bench.”

Velvet grinned. “With pleasure.”

Moments later, the sissy was strapped in, pink panties pulled down, presenting his shame to the two dominant queens. Mistress Classy ran the crop down his spine slowly.

“You begged for attention, didn’t you?” Smack.

“You wanted to be seen?” Smack.

“Well, now you’re our toy. And toys don’t get opinions.” Smack.

The sissy whimpered, moaning between each strike, the sting burning with divine punishment.

Velvet Vixen walked around to face him, sitting gracefully on the edge of the bench, crossing her legs. “Tell me, little slutty… how does it feel being punished by two goddesses?”

“I… I feel honored,” he whimpered.

“Good boy,” she cooed, running her fingers through his hair. “Now open wide.”

Mistress Classy leaned in, voice a soft command. “You’re going to serve us both tonight. With your body, your mouth, your obedience. And when we’re finished with you, you’ll thank us for ruining you.”

The night spiraled into a symphony of moans, orders, and wicked pleasure. The sissy was no longer a brat. He was broken, rebuilt under stilettos and strict hands into the perfect plaything.

By dawn, he lay in a puddle of bliss, mascara streaked down his cheeks, still wearing his ruined panties. Mistress Classy lit a cigarette while Velvet Vixen reapplied her lipstick in the mirror.

“Not bad for our first time working together,” Mistress Classy said with a sly smile.

Velvet winked. “Next time, bring two brats.”