Sissy Forced Femdom Feminization Slaves

Universal Force-Feminization Under Female Supremacy

Unterwuerfling

“I’m changing your name Slut. It reflects your new life.”

“Thank you, Goddess, may your slave ask its new name?”

“You are now Bitch. Come to the spare room.”

The slave man followed his Mistress Owner.

“You will still go hooded and collared. Your chastity tube cannot be removed. You will also wear this.”

Slave looked at a pink dress and a pair of pink thigh high boots.

“Goddess …”

Revelation deprived the slave man of words.

Women enslaved men several generations ago. All men became property.

Laws mandated male chastity. Deprived of orgasms and erections men soon lost the power to resist.

Additional laws required men wear hoods. Suppression of individuality ended self-esteem.

New laws aimed to erase all traces of masculinity. It would become a curiosity in ancient history textbooks.

All males would be force-feminized. Every man would wear the same pink dress and boots.

The pronouns he and him go unused. A man is an it. Now the words male and men would be removed from circulation. Males would be called sissies.

An entire planet of Mistress Owners and sissy slaves would fulfill the hopes and dreams of generations of female supremacists.

‘Bitch’ did not understand why Mistress Owner made the change. But he did not expect to understand his Goddess. She was too far above him.

A good chattel, he would comply without hesitation.

Written by Richard Evans Lee Filed Under: Sissy Tagged With: Feminization

Sissy Slave Life Under Matriarchy

Pink Servitude

Force-feminization of the inferior gender is common. But not universal. Some worlds have no patriarchal past. Gender specific clothing next existed. Nor is ‘femininity’ in the limited Terrestrial sense part of every civilization.

One some planets only specific classes of servants become sissies. On others every man is sissified.

Force-feminization is a component of the Male Problem: Quick, efficient subjugation of newly enslaved men. Crushing manhood always works.

Debates raged in the Matriarchal Council. Some Matriarchs argued that erasing masculinity was sure path to a docile male population. Others said that making males into faux females was an offence to the Divine Feminine.

The Pragmatic Party won. The Council criminalized manliness. Henceforth all males would wear pink (a color that women hereafter eschewed).

When not in use sissy slaves lived in cages.

Unterwuerfling

Daily punishment became the norm. Most sissies receive discipline morning, midday and evening.

The most loyal, servile sissy slaves became personal servants of Mistress Owners.

Lesser sissies (inferior to inferiors) would do the most disgusting work. Tasks that would remind them daily of their unworthiness.

Sissy genitalia’s single purpose: CBT. They learned to despise their own bodies. Feminized men never knew of sexual pleasure only sexual pain.

Many Mistress Owners preferred to castrate sissies. Some women knew of penises and testicles only from obscure texts. Castration was mercy.

A small group played tease and denial games before removing a slave’s genitals.

Scientists experimented on sissy bodies. Often for fun rather than research.

In a world of sadistic Mistress Owners sissy slaves served also as victims or prey. Women competed to induce misery. Tears and screams earned applause.

When a sissy expires replacement is easy. Mistress Owners may not even distinguish among their property. A male is a male. Even dressed in pink. Used and discarded without thought or sentiment.

Written by Richard Evans Lee Filed Under: Sissy Tagged With: Feminization

Sissy Slave Maidservants & Janitors

Force-Feminization Servitors Stored in Closets

unterwuerfling

In many Femdomocracies sissies are household slaves. They live in a Mistress Owner’s residence and do all cooking and cleaning.

On this world every slave man assigned to cleaning duties is force-feminized.

Sissification begins with depilation. An acidic cream removes the slave male’s body hair. The cream – by design – burns flesh. Men scream during the process. Males must be restrained. Allowed freedom of motion, the stupid creatures might injure themselves.

No woman cares if a man is harmed except insofar as it diminishes the slave’s utility. Men’s feelings do not matter. Male usefulness does.

Sissy slaves are janitors and garbage collectors. Even though sissies wear pink – the color of inferiority – their pseudo-resemblance to women earns them continual degradation.

Feminized servants live in the closet where cleaning materials are stored. On this planet males sleep on floors. They do not receive covering or pillows.

Twice daily, in the morning before work and after work, other slaves feed the sissified servitors. A special tube goes down their throats. Then the feeder shoves nutritional matter and liquid substances into the sissies’ bellies.

Directed to useful purposes, kept out of the way of superior beings, feminized slave men live a life appropriate to their biological gender.

Written by Richard Evans Lee Filed Under: Sissy Tagged With: Feminization, Hard Labor, Sissification

Sissy Slaves Forced to Wait Outside in Public

No Sissies Allowed!

Men become things under Femdomocracy. Owned things. Women cease to see males as human. Intelligence, good looks may be desired qualities. But the handsomest, smartest man is worthless if he does not obey Mistress Owner.

Force-feminized sissy slaves are the least of men. Gauche clothing and ludicrous makeup inspire laughter and contempt.

Sissy maidservants are housekeepers and cooks. Cruel Mistress Owners play games with their slaves: a sissy may spend an entire day scrubbing bathroom and toilet with a toothbrush.

Routinely whipped, spat upon and slapped, sissies have one great pleasure: anal sex. A sissy’s only sexual organ is his anus. Mistress Owner’s strap-on, however thick, long or studded, satisfies a powerful hunger. Even brutal sodomy leaves an afterglow.

Some public establishments ban sissies.

Sissy slaves must remain locked outdoors. That they are chained to trash receptacles and garbage cans is no accident. Public degradation of feminized males is routine.

Shopping districts often provide sidewalk parking of sissy servants. They will carry their Owners’ purchases.

Femdomocratic custom encourages the public humiliation of waiting sissy slaves. Women spit on them, kick their chastity tubes and slap their faces.

When a Mistress Owner exits a shop to find her slave in tears she gives silent thanks to her Domme sisters. Never can a sissy or any male undergo too much degradation and shaming.

Written by Richard Evans Lee Filed Under: Sissy Tagged With: Chains, Feminization, Submissen

Female Supremacy: Worldwide Forced-Sissification

World Where All Men are Sissy Slaves

Worldwide forced-feminization often follows womankind’s enslavement of malekind. The ‘war of the sexes’ ends with women’s triumph.

Sissification forces men to face their inferiority. Stripped of all pretension of potency, male egos shrink. Humility begins.

Reluctant servants evolve into worshipers of the Divine Feminine. Reverence of women imbues lives of slavery with meaning. Sissified chattels find joy in serving Living Goddesses.

Masculinity perishes. The relationship between Woman and man become Mistress Owner and sissy slave.

Malekind’s destiny: impotent, servile, obedient sissy slaves.

However thoroughly feminized, sissies are male. Under Matriarchy men are livestock. Unowned slaves live in warehouses until assigned Mistress Owners.

Warehousing is so depersonalizing it has a training effect. Being treated as an object erases any hidden traces of self-respect.

Every Mistress Owner has at least one sissy maidservant. The maid’s life is restricted and regulated. Life is a sequence of redundant, repetitive chores. Idleness is punished. Sissymaids often clean what is not dirty.

Sissy slaves provide entertainment as well as labor. Talented slaves learn ballet. Hours of hard training combined with frequent punishment force sissies to excel.

Sissy ballets are never dramatic. Always comic. The dancers are clumsy on purpose. Every dancer tries to trip another. Sissy pratfalls always bring laughter. The stories are narratives of male idiocy and inadequacy.

Sissy slaves live in perpetual chastity. This is a world in which no living man has enjoyed an orgasm. Tease and denial keep slaves aroused. Spiked chastity belts are universal. Men lose the ability to achieve erections.

Maintenance spankings keep sissies mindful of their lowly status. The slightest impropriety earns slaps, punches and whippings. No woman feels pity or compassion for her inferiors.

Good sissy servants earn rewards. Mistress Owner’s most cherished gift is permission to grovel. Allowed to lick a woman’s boots, a slave often weeps with joy.

The end of manliness is the beginning of a better world.

Sissy images by German Femdom artist Unterwuerfling.

Written by Richard Evans Lee Filed Under: Sissy Tagged With: Feminization

Forced Sissification: Ultimate Form of Male Ego Destruction

Sissy Whore / Slut Humiliation Game

After the establishment of Gynarchy, the Gynarchic Revolutions begin male ego dilution. Prone to excessive self-respect men must learn their worth. Dishonesty and lies must give way to facts.

Male is less than female. Girls are better than boys. Women are superior to men.

Self-evident truths that masculine minds reject.

The first project of female supremacist societies is humbling men. Male vanity suppression may follow universal rules. Or each Mistress Owner may train her males according to her own tastes and theories.

Force feminization crushes the masculine spirit. Sissification fills men’s minds with shame. Often sissies assume what in sexist societies termed “women’s work.” Sissy maidservants clean house and cook.

Bad sissies receive spankings, whippings and other physical punishments. Often the best discipline wounds not the slave’s flesh but his heart. Humiliation is one of Mistress Owners’ most valuable tools.

Dommes call their sissy slaves sluts and whores. Verbal cruelty makes sissies feel cheap and worthless. That males are so easily traumatized by words is another proof of their inferiority.

Tears ruin the humiliated sissy’s makeup. He looks like a gauche ugly puppet.

We see two Dommes playing the whore game with their sissy slave. Verbal degradation only begins sissy’s torment.

Sissy’s wrists shackled to a rod, ankles locked to a spreader bar. The slave’s whole body is easily accessible. Perfect for nipple torment and whippings.

One Mistress Owner wears a punishment dildo. Fat and long, when it slides in, sissy will scream. The helpless slave will feel as if his insides are being ripped apart. But the Dommes would never waste such an entertaining plaything.

Under female supremacy, sissies serve as office slaves. They run errands, make coffee, lick dirty shoes clean.

This office closed for the day. Before locking the slave in a cage, two women remained behind for a variation of the sissy slut game.

The hour is already late. Having so much fun tormenting the sissy, they will not leave until after midnight. The Mistresses can sleep late. Sissy begins work before dawn. Tired, sissy will be clumsy. Every error will be punished.

Mistress Owners laugh to themselves about the sissy slut and whore games. Locked in chastity the sissies can never know the pleasure of being sluts.

Sex is for women, not sissies.

Written by Richard Evans Lee Filed Under: Sissy Tagged With: Feminization, Strap-On, Submissen

Female Supremacy: Total Force-Feminization

Males Purged of Masculinity

On this Femdomocratic world, women view male bodies with disgust. Men are ungainly beasts. Their disgusting body hair is repulsive. Nothing is more repugnant than a phallus.

Every Mistress Owner agreed: the male aesthetics problem must be fixed.

The benefits of male chattel slavery were too valuable to forgo. Researchers sought a method for erasing evidences of distasteful masculinity.

An early development was a large, rectangular bodysuit. Men looked like ambulatory mattresses: sexless and genderless.

The bulky costumes encumbered men. Limited the tasks they could perform. Every solution interfered with male functionality. Women feared that ugliness would prove an inescapable cost of male usefulness.

A bold biologist suggested making men look like women. This met with scorn. No one could ever confuse a male with the superior gender.

Slowly women accepted the idea. Scientists should experiment with any technique for suppressing masculine hideousness.

Feminization begins in the depilation chambers. An extremely painful process destroys hair follicles. (One depilation technician made a hit recording mixing the screams of men locked in depilation chambers.)

Artificial breasts contain pain generators powered by body heat. Mistress Owners can summon and punish men by remote control.

The feminization process includes considerable time with the pegging machine. Anal manipulation weakens men’s masculine self-image.

Feminized males must never seem like women. Lasers etch slaves’ product identification numbers into their foreheads.

Feminization completed, a feminization nurse brands the new sissy slave. “SLAVE” appears just above the groin.

Many Mistress Owners consider male chastity devices a satisfactory means of hiding penises. Some prefer metal chastity “panties.” Sculpted pink metal, they encase the crotch and perineum.

Some women cannot tolerate the least reminder of male genitalia. Their males undergo castration and penectomy. A tiny slit enables urination.

Pictures of men as they once existed appears only in history textbooks. The first matriarchs long ago removed every public memorial featuring men.

Totally feminized, completely chaste, frequently whipped feminized males serve the superior gender well.

More female supremacy stories inspired by Submissen.

Written by Richard Evans Lee Filed Under: Sissy Tagged With: Feminization, Sissification, Submissen

Sissy Man’s Humiliation is Good for Business

Sissy Humiliated in Clothing Store

Submissen

In Gynopolis women’s clothing store have small sections devoted to sissy maidservant attire. Cheaper than artificial mannequins, sissies wear samples.

Sissy models may not move or talk. Mandatory frozen silence is difficult for anyone. For the ditzy, frivolous minds of sissy men, conformance is almost impossible.

Cameras record every malfeasance. After closing, disciplinarians whip the sissies for each failing. Sissies discover they would rather dig ditches than serve as mannequins. No one cares what sissy slaves think.

During open hours, watchful Mistress Managers deliver instant punishment for every wriggle. Leg cramps are no excuse. Nor itches.

In the picture an angry manager curses a sissy for almost invisible movement. She orders him to push himself up and down the support rod in his anus. This and a torrent of verbal abuse, entertain a watching customer.

The sissy’s dressing down amuses her so much that she spends three times as much as planned. Women so enjoy seeing men humiliated that public humiliation is an excellent marketing tool. The more she spends, the greater the manager’s commission.

The Femdomocratic multiverses, meta-universes, paracosms are filled with worlds where women are supreme. Internal coherence is not a goal.

Matrifascist ideology often prevails. Female superiority and male inferiority is the entrenched ethos.

Men are chattels, human property. Female supremacy is the law. Often the religion. Often men have no civil rights. Some Gynocrats declare men are not human.

Gynosupremacist erotic fantasies are not statements of personal politics. The stories aim to satisfy atypical sexual and romantic emotions

Transgender & CrossdressersSissy Maid to Be… Ch. 03

Sissy Maid to Be… Ch. 03

bymissjennymaid©

I would recommend reading the first chapters to get to up to speed on the story, but if you want to start in the middle…

Jeremy: A married crossdresser who loves to live out his crossdressing fantasies with his supportive wife.

Lizzy: Jeremy’s wife who participates in his sissy maid desires every other Friday when they have the place to themselves.

Jeremy has transformed into Jenny in her pink satin and lace sissy maid outfit that is worn for events and competition. Sissy jenny doesn’t know of any event but is expecting an evening of public humiliation out of the house. What the actual plan is will be a surprise she never thought would happen…

*****

I was done up in my custom-made dress from birchplace that Lizzy gave me as a birthday present. The baby pink maid uniform that zips up into a choker had the pad lock affixed at the back to make sure the dress doesn’t come off and keeps me completely under her control. The pink is accentuated with white lace all around the sleeves and hems. I was doing my best to make sure my white lace pinafore and layers of petticoats that that cause the skirt of the uniform to flare out stayed dry while I was doing the dishes as mistress was getting ready. My feet were starting to ache standing at the kitchen sink for so long in my 6 inches heels, but I was unable to do anything to give them a reprieve as they were locked on as well. My lace ruffled panties were encasing my sissy clitty, but I was unable to enjoy the feeling as Lizzy had locked my little thing up in the pink chastity device. I stood at the sink finally completing the dishes and putting them away and moved to clear the dining area table. The bells that Lizzy had sewn in jingling with each movement.

Lizzy called down from the bedroom, “That is exactly what I love hearing. My little sissy jenny doing her chores like a good girl. Make sure you get the tables cleared and when you are done go stand in the corner until I come down for you.” Lizzy had designated a spot in the corner of the kitchen by the fridge where I was instructed to stand when not needed when in my sissy maid role. She knew I disliked it as it made me feel like a little kid being punished and I felt, at times, that she forgot that I was standing there with my nose pressed in the corner waiting for her to need me.

I dragged out cleaning the tables as long as I could but eventually, they were shining so that I could see my reflection in them. I obediently walked over to the corner, put my heels together and made sure my knees were touching, flattened the front of my dress and pinafore, and put my nose into the corner. I could hear Lizzy upstairs moving around and was dying to have a seat and give my feet a rest.

I heard Lizzy call down, “Sissy is everything ready and are you in your corner?”

I replied, “Yes mistress, my tasks are complete, and I am standing in my sissy spot.”

Lizzy replied, “Good girl, I will be down shortly. Make sure you stay there until I am ready for you.” I could still here Lizzy moving around upstairs and after what seemed like an eternity, I heard her walk into the kitchen. I didn’t hear the telltale click of heels on the tile floors like I typically do when she is all “dolled” up for an event. She continued to walk around the kitchen then I could hear her walk over to me. She lifted the back of my dress and I could feel the cool air as it swished up. It caused a sensation at exposed part of my legs between the thigh highs and bottom of my panties that sent a chill through my entire body.

Lizzy said, “your butt looks great in those panties. I love seeing the rows of sating and lace. No woman would ever wear something like that, let alone a man. My aunt said she could tell you were “a special boy” at the wedding shower. That’s why she bought the maid apron for you.”

At this my face burned red. Lizzy’s aunt had given her a maid apron at her wedding shower and told her it was for me, but I always thought it was a joke and was not sure she ever did really say that. Hearing Lizzy tell me that her aunt actually did say that and had suspicions put a whole new light on some of the other comments that she made when we were at the lake.

Lizzy tucked the back of my dress into the pinafore and slid her hands onto my waist. She asked, “Didn’t you know that Aunt Carol always thought you were a sissy, even before I knew you were a sissy?”

I replied, “I always thought you were joking about the apron and that it was bought for you, Mistress. I did love how you had me put on the panties and put on the apron the next day while I made you breakfast though.” The memory stirring my little clitty in my cage.

Lizzy brought her fingers into the top of my panty waistband and slowly slid them down to my knees. I was still facing with my nose into the corner and I felt her slide her hand between my thighs and grab my clitty cage. She pulled my clitty in the pink chastity cage back between my legs and shoved my thighs back together so that my clitty was sticking back between my legs leaving the front of my pubic area smooth like a girls. Lizzy pushed her body up against mine and reached her hand around my waist and slowly slid it down the front of my stomach with her palm flat and her fingers pointing down. She slowly rubbed the front of my crotch where my sissy clitty had previously been. She said, “Aunt Carol loved that picture too. She said she knew she was right about buying the apron for you.

I felt my knees buckle with the words she was saying and the was she was rubbing my smooth crotch. I so wanted to reach behind and release my caged clitty but Lizzy was pushing me into the corner so all I could do was stand there with my face pressed against the wall while she spoke and fondled me.

Lizzy said, “Aunt Carol has a whole collection of pictures of you doing what you love. She has asked quite a few times to have me send you to Atlanta for a week to clean as the sissy maid for her. We should make that happen soon.” Lizzy continued to rub my smooth crotch and push me into the wall. “Would my little sissy like that?”

“I would love that very much mistress. A sissy is happiest when she looks pretty and is waiting on others,” I replied.

“Good answer sissy” Lizzy said, and she reached down and pulled my panties up. “pull down your skirt and straighten the hems and turn around so I can inspect you.”

I released the back of my skirt form the pinafore and straightened my skirt and turned around. I was not prepared to see Mistress dressed how she was. Lizzy was standing there in shorts and a t-shirt. Both were form fitting, but they were things a woman would wear on a day to day basis, not something that you would wear to a fetish event while leading your sissy husband in a maid uniform on a collar and leash.

I looked at Lizzy and said, “Lizzy, aren’t you going to get ready?”

Lizzy smacked me across the face and said, “That is the last warning, we had an agreement. You will address me as Mistress for the rest of the evening. No more slip ups, I want you in the right state of mind. Just because your idea of the plan isn’t lining out doesn’t mean it gives you the right to break the role. Do you understand?”

I lowered my head and replied, “Yes Mistress, sorry Mistress.”

Lizzy looked at me and said, “Ok, like I said this isn’t probably what you are expecting, and if you do not want to spend all night in the corner in your sissy spot you have better get in line.”

I looked at Lizzy and lowered my eyes and curtsied and said, “yes Mistress, what do you require of your sissy maid.”

“Good girl” said Lizzy. “Now let’s get some things straight. I am hosting guests tonight and I expect my sissy to wait on them like a good sissy maid would. You will be seen and not heard and will only speak when address. Do you understand?”

“Yes Mistress” I replied, “but who…”

“No questions, sissy” Lizzy interrupted, “You will do as you are instructed, or this will not be happening and you and I both know this is something you have always wanted.”

Lizzy was right. This is something I had begged for countless times in the past; for her to let me serve as the sissy maid at one of her “Girl’s Nights” that she had every so often. Not knowing who was going to see me as the sissy maid was terrifying. The thought of who and how many were coming was running through my head and I was scared that this was a little more than I could handle but I had asked to give up all control and take my true place as a submissive sissy.

Lizzy said, “Guest will be arriving in 30 minutes and I expect things to be ready when they come. Bring up two bottles of wine from the cellar and bring up the hors d’oeuvres from the basement kitchen that I got at the store this morning. When guests arrive, I expect you to meet them at the door and curtsey and take their coats. Do you understand sissy?”

“Yes Mistress” I replied. My heart already racing with anticipation.

“Well what are you waiting for. Get things ready. I want my guests to be impressed,” Lizzy said.

“Yes Mistress,” I replied and turned to go.

“Hold on sissy,” Lizzy said. “One more thing. I have written out what I expect you to say to each of the guests when they arrive” and she handed me a small piece of paper. “I want you to have this memorized perfectly before they arrive so that it looks like this is something you say on regular basis and not something that is scripted.”

I unfolded the paper and silently read what she had written on it. Hello sir/madam, thank you for gracing Mistress Lizzy’s home with your presence this evening. I am sissy jenny, formerly Mistress Lizzy’s husband, but we have both found that I am not a real man and am better suited for serving Mistress Lizzy as her Sissy Maid. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to make your visit more comfortable this evening (and then curtsy and take their coat) If you will follow me I will lead you into the sitting area to start this evening (make sure you walk in front of them and wiggle your ass).

My face was burning with embarrassment just reading the text and let alone she expected me to say this to each guest. The thought of actually doing this in front of people though had me ultra-turned on and my sissy clitty was straining against the chastity cage and I could feel my panty liner getting even wetter than it already was.

I looked at Lizzy and said, “Mistress you want me to say this to each guest?”

Lizzy replied, “Of course sissy. I wouldn’t have written it down if I didn’t want you to and what did I say about questioning me?”

“Sorry Mistress,” I replied, “you say Sir/Madam, are there going to be men here?”

“Tut, tut, tut, again with more questions. You will see when people come in. now go downstairs and get the things instructed and come back up and we will do a practice run before the guests arrive,” Lizzy said.

I curtsey to Mistress and turned and walked down the stairs to retrieve the wine and hors d’oeuvres. I grabbed a bottle of white and a bottle of red from the cellar and brought up the tray with the snacks for tonight’s event. Mistress was seated at the couch texting on her phone when I had everything arranged and I walked over to her and stood next to her until she addressed me.

“Do you have everything ready sissy?” she asked.

“Yes Mistress”, I replied.

“Very good. Let’s do a quick inspection then we can do a rundown of your greeting before people start coming over.” With that Lizzy stood up and walked around me. “You know the drill sissy lift your dress.”

I lifted my dress while Lizzy walked around. She checked my nylons to make sure they were even and that the seems were straight. Checked the locks on my 6-inch heels to make sure they were secure, and I could not get out of them. While my still had my dress pulled up, she instructed me to drop my panties so she could inspect my sissy parts. I dropped my panties and lifted my skirt back up.

“My, my, my,” Lizzy said as she was looking at her sissy husband exposed from the waist down and locked into the pink chastity device. “Still dripping your sissy cum and making a mess, and look your pantyliner is soaked with precum. I am guessing you are loving the idea of what is to come and not knowing who is going to actually meet sissy jenny finally.” Lizzy grabbed my locked up clitty and inspected. “I can tell you are excited with how swollen your clitty is. I think it was the right choice to deny you release so that you follow through with tonight’s plan. I stood there with my wrists limp hold my skirt up high. Lizzy smacked my ass hard with her hand causing me to jump also causing my clitty to shoot a stream of precum. “Good thing your panties caught that sissy, or else people might have seen my pet licking cum off the ground.

My mind flashed to the picture Lizzy texted her friend Tiffany of me earlier in the day licking my puddle of cum off the bathroom floor and the picture that Tiffany texted back to Lizzy where she photo-shopped poodle ears and a tail on me on all fours on the floor with cum dripping off my tongue.

Now stay there while I get you a new pantyliner.” I stood in the middle of the room with my skirt held high, my panties around my ankles, and my exposed clitty open for everyone to see.

Lizzy returned with a new panty liner and pulled the precum soaked one out and replaced it with the dry one. She raised my panties back up and patted my ass. “Fix your skirt and get on your knees so we can finish the inspection,” Lizzy said.

I straightened my skirt and pinafore smoothed them as flat as my layers of petticoats would allow and knelt on the floor with my head down. The first thing Lizzy did was take my curled hair and from behind me and raise it up. She grasped the padlock and made sure it was secure so that I would not be able to take my dress off. Lizzy let my hair fall back across my dress and fluffed it up.

“I want my sissy to look pretty tonight and I want to make sure that you stay in that dress. Now stand up and let’s practice how you are going to greet my guests tonight,” Lizzy said.

“Yes mistress,” I replied as I stood up and straightened my dress.

“Now sissy, let’s pretend the doorbell rings and I am on of the guests. You will run through what I have asked you to memorize so that you are ready when people start showing up. Now move you butt over to the door and lets practice,” Lizzy commanded.

“Yes mistress,” I stated as I curtsied and walked over to the door.

Lizzy walked outside and rang the doorbell.

Heart in my chest, knowing that the next time the doorbell rang there would be someone else behind the door I opened it. I started to speak, and Lizzy interrupted by screaming, “Oh my God is that you Jeremy! Holy shit! What a faggot!”

I started to stammer, unsure what to say and Lizzy shoved me back, “On your knees” she commanded. “You need to be prepared for that. I expect that will be the reaction that most people will have. Especially the men.”

My heart started beating a mile a minute. There were going to be men coming over and seeing me in a pink maid uniform with the skirt sticking out straight with layers of petticoats exposing my ruffled satin and lace panties. They would be getting a full view of them while I walked in front of them with my 6-inch heels locked on and me wiggling my ass causing the bells that Lizzy sewn into my panties to jingle uncontrollably while escorting them to Lizzy.

I stammered, “Mistress, there will be men here?”

Lizzy replied, “What did I tell you about asking questions? Now let’s try it again and make sure you get it right this time.”

“Yes mistress,” I replied and stood up and straightened my dress.

Lizzy walked outside and rang the doorbell again and I opened the door. This time she reacted by saying, “My, my, my, I always knew there was something different about you Jeremy and now I understand why Lizzy looks at other men like she does.”

My face flushed red and my clitty stirred in its chastity. I responded by saying, “Hello Madam, thank you for gracing Mistress Lizzy’s home with your presence this evening. I am sissy jenny, formerly Mistress Lizzy’s husband, but we have both found that I am not a real man and am better suited for serving Mistress Lizzy as her Sissy Maid. Please let me know if there is anything, I can do to make your visit more comfortable this evening.” I curtseyed and pretended like I was taking her coat and hung it up. “If you will follow me, I will lead you into the sitting area to start this evening” I indicated that she should follow me and wiggled my ass causing the bells to jingle all the way as I walked her to the sitting room. I could hear her giggling at the wiggling which made me shake my butt even more.

“So, Jeremy, it’s jenny now is it?” she asked, still playing the part of the guest.

I turned and said, “sissy jenny, madam. I need to be addressed as sissy in front of my name since I do not deserve to be addressed as a real woman.”

“Is that right?” she asked still playing the part.

“Yes, Madam” I replied. “No woman would wear something like this, nor would want to dress like this, and no real man would be caught dead dressed like this. Only a sissy, and that is what I am. I am not a woman and shouldn’t pretend to be one and I am as far from being a real man as I can get.” After giving my explanation, I curtseyed and stood with my eyes downcast.

Lizzy said, “very good sissy. I am sure you will do great this evening. I am so excited, but probably not as excited as you. Now go get me a glass of wine while I am waiting for my guests.”

I turned to go to the kitchen and fulfill her request when the doorbell rang. I froze in my steps. I felt my heart turn on full speed and drop to my stomach.

“Well it looks like people are showing up early, you know what to do sissy. My wine can wait but not the guests at the door,” Lizzy said. “Now get your sissy butt in gear.”

With that I walked to the door heels clicking on the hardwood floor and the bells on my panties jingling, but I was unable to hear them over the sound of my beating heart. I reached the door and turned the knob and slowly pulled it open…

To be continued..

b

Dominant Woman Turns Weakling Into Sissy She-male Slut

by Honore // August 14, 2013 // Comments off

Dear Enslaved,
Always being the dominant one in a relationship, I was drawn to Ned because of his placid manner and almost feminine face and figure. At first, he went along with being tied up for sex and often being kept that way for hours. He even shaved his scant body hair when I said I liked smooth bodies.
Next I put him to my final test and dared him to go for a walk one night in complete drag. He was intrigued and after a bit of cajoling let me put him in brief black lingerie, short black rubber latex dress, long gloves, stay-up nylons, and 4” stiletto pumps. I made up his face and placed a dark page-boy wig on his head. We were both turned on by his very feminine image in the full-length mirror. He suddenly got cold feet at the front door, but I solved that by tying his wrists behind him and draping a coat about his shoulders, then shoving his helpless, feminized body out into the hall.
It was a delightful evening. No one was in the elevator or lobby, and on the street we received admiring glances from the few people we passed. We returned horny and had sex; Ned stayed tied and feminized the whole night. From then on he was hooked. He was bound and feminized on almost every date, and soon we began living together in a small house with a large, high-fenced yard for privacy. We ordered clothes and articles from your Transvestite and other she-male catalogs and Ned wore several changes a day. I had a high paying job and good investments so I convinced Ned to quit his job and do all the womanly things around the house. He was thrilled to do so, as he was then able to stay feminized all the time.
Ned did the cleaning and cooking in either a French maid uniform and 4” to 7” stilettos or a pink or satin locking sissy maids bondage uniform, ruffled socks and Mary Janes or Sylvia Doll Shoes, and always penis gagged and in chains and leather wrist and ankle cuffs. He also wore schoolgirl outfits, gowns, velvet dresses, leopard outfits, skirts, tops and hosiery, lingerie, etc. It was such fun to tie and gag him looking like a sexy socialite, French or sissy maid, school girl in penny loafers, or a leopard bikini-clad jungle girl a la ‘5Os bondage model icon Betty Page. He used your feminizing creams and pills and even slept tied up in a corset and stiletto heels, to nip in his waist, to give his hips and butt a rounder shape tone his leg and calf muscles and ankles, and raise his high arches.
Our bliss was shattered when Ned discovered that his dick and balls were shrinking while his breasts grew, his skin became softer, his hair more silky, and his body hair disappeared. He loved being a TV bondage slave, content to receive a blowjob or handjob instead of actual intercourse in exchange for eating and finger-fucking my cunt while in bondage – but he drew the line at becoming a limp-donged, actual she-male! I was set on him being one, as he’d never been a great lay. He was in chains and a brief French maid uniform with 7” heels, and was no match for me. I knocked him out with an uppercut, and he woke to find he was tied in a compact ball, a jaw-creaking penis gag in his mouth and a huge, humming vibrator fucking his ass at its highest speed.
For three weeks I kept him tied in the spare bedroom in every muscle-straining position I could conceive, lashed him with whips and belts, walked on him in 7” stilettos, and screwed his asshole good with the vibrator, plastic and rubber dildos and my various stilettos, which he sucked clean. Ned wisely gave in, and I increased the hormone creams and tablets. He was given female behavior lessons and lashed whenever he messed up. His dwindling prick was locked in a Phallic Fidelity Enforcer, and later in a FL3C Frenum Chastity that prevented a hard-on with heavy pain. At last his breasts had large implants and his small cock was locked permanently in a FL2C Frenum, and Ned forever became “Nan,” a gorgeous, submissive, sissy she-male slave/slut.
I take bound Nan with me on those occasions I get an itch that can only be scratched by a man’s prick. Tied and gagged as a French or sissy maid, schoolgirl or naked beauty in 7” stiletto sling-backs and imitation pussy hiding her metal-encased tiny cock, she watches me get what she can no longer give me.
Mistress Elga

Be Careful What You Wish For #187

This is a fantasy. Please read it as such.

*

I woke up slowly as I was a bit disoriented. I cleared the sleep from my eyes only to realize I was in a hospital. The facts were fuzzy but I recalled the party last night. I think it was last night. I started to replay it in my mind, trying to figure it out…

Well, another birthday is upon me. The big 3-O. My wife had planned the party all I had to do was get dressed. For this event, I was to be dressed as my alter ego, and her lesbian slut, Kellie.

Our friends all know about this side of our lives because they are almost all Fem-Dom couples as well. I showered and shaved, and pulled together my wardrobe. I picked out a gorgeous, sexy, red body-con dress, thigh highs, lacy red lingerie, and the matching red pumps.

I won’t bore you with the getting dressed details, but I was going to look hot, submissive, and ready.

As I dressed, I pulled my cock back between my legs and tucked my balls up into their sockets. I wished I had a smoother-looking crotch but this was the best I could do. I often thought it would be great not to have these balls hanging out. Then I would always be smooth and pretty under my panties.

“Well, under my tight lacy red thong, it will look smooth thought,” I told myself. “Who knows, someday Mistress may make that a reality.”

The guests were arriving as I finished my make up. Mistress Lynn, my wife, and owner called me to the party room and I was happy to see so many friends here in their fetish finery. I knew it was going to be a hot night.

After a few drinks, refreshments, and small talk, guests were getting anxious to play. Lynn called everyone together to sing Happy Birthday, and then Mistress Lynn quieted the crowd and asked me what I wanted for my birthday present.

Not one to waste an opportunity, I suggested a blowjob for each of my years, as this was something I could enjoy over a few weeks or more. I may be a dyke in a man’s body but I still enjoy good head!

Mistress Lynn said there weren’t enough cocks for me to give 30 so I would have to do everyone twice after I got my birthday spanking. I protested that I wanted to receive them, not give them. She laughed and reminded me that I was her property.

“I can’t see that you even have a cock under those clothes. The way you’re dressed it appears that you should be the one giving them.”

Her hand reached down to my crotch and she dug her nails into my shaft. I yelped in pain as she pulled me up till I was teetering on my tiptoes. Leaning over me she softly kissed me, gently, but firmly, melting me with her tongue. When she broke the kiss she tied me over the horse. My legs were bound to the horse legs as my arms were bound on the other side.

My dress was pulled up and pinned in place. Lynn pulled out her favorite paddle and warmed my bottom with soft taps. When she was ready I would feel them in earnest. She caressed my cock and it began to strain inside the thong.

Someone slipped a blindfold over my eyes and a tongue into my mouth. I was being manipulated from both ends, getting hotter than ever. The tongue was removed and replaced by another. Wait it wasn’t a tongue. It was a cock.

Before I could protest, the paddle came down heavily on my bottom. I tried to yell out and almost swallowed the cock. As I felt the next blow to my backside I knew it was a warning not to stop sucking. The more I sucked, the lighter the paddle fell. When the smallish cock finally erupted in my mouth I heard a cheer from the crowd. The cock soon vanished from my mouth.

The paddle crashed down again and as I opened my mouth to react it was filled with another cock. After 4 or 5 more cocks the paddling stopped and I just opened up for whoever wanted to stuff me.

My crotch was being stimulated again, and the heat in my loins was growing. Mistress Lynn leaned close to my ear and told me I was doing a great job but she wanted to be sure that I got 30 cocks off without taking all night.

I soon felt my thong being pulled aside and felt a cock violating my ass. I was being fucked from both ends at once. I was crying as I continued on one cock after another.

Hours later, I think, I finally finished. When the blindfold was removed I could see Lynn sitting to the side playing with her beautiful clit.

“Well slut, looks like you finished. I bet if we get rid of those balls I could make some good money whoring you off. That was one hot show you put on.”

While she was talking, others removed me from the horse. I was re-secured face up on a bed. A couple of ladies came over and relieved themselves in my mouth before having me lick them to orgasm.

Some others had tied a cord around my cock and tied it to the end of the bed. My balls were still trapped within me, but I was horny as hell. I just wanted to come.

One by one the guests came over to say goodnight. When they had all left Mistress Lynn came back and began teasing me some more. She said how proud she was of her little girl for being so well behaved tonight. (Like I had a choice).

She played a while longer and started talking nasty to me. She would pull on my tits and tell me how nice it would be if they were a little bigger, and how pretty my crotch would look without any ugly balls hanging out. I could see her massaging herself at the same time, getting even hotter.

She kissed me more, running her tongue around my mouth as I submissively accepted her control. She told me how pretty I looked as a girl and wanted to make me more feminine. She said I would be much prettier with my cock permanently tucked between my legs and wondered if there was a way we could pierce it to hold it down.

I asked how we would fuck, and she said I would look great with a strap on around my waist.

“But how would I be able to cum, Mistress,” I asked.

“You’ll just have to reach down and rub it like a big clit, Kellie. After all, that’s what you really want, isn’t it?”

I was about to cum form all this when she pulled her hands away and left me panting. She returned with the blindfold, a whip, and a hardwood paddle. I knew what was coming. When the blindfold was secure Mistress Lynn told me she was upset that I still had a hard-on.

“I can’t tuck it away like that, now can I.”

She then started to whip it up and down its length, making me moan in pain and pleasure. As my moans became cries she got an inflatable gag and pumped it up in my mouth.

The whip started raining down harder and I squirmed with every stroke. She switched to the paddle and grabbed my nipple ring to keep me from moving too much while she beat on my sore cock. She started paddling harder and harder and would occasionally hit my thighs.

She started tapping on my balls as they were pushing up into little mounds trapped just above the base of my cock. The blows became stronger, and I could tell Lynn was getting off on it.

As she came she brought a strike down across my balls that sent me reeling in pain.

“Red, red.” I yelled our safe word.

Lynn removed the blindfold and untied my cock and limbs. My balls hurt like hell and were swelling up. We tried to drop them out of their sockets but they wouldn’t drop. They had swollen too much to pop back out.

The pain was excruciating and I was getting worried. There was excess pressure on my bladder and I couldn’t control it. We decided that we would have to go to the ER because the pain was just unbearable. She wouldn’t let me change, so still, in my red dress, we headed to the hospital.

At the ER they had me sign some papers and gave me a sedative and painkillers. One of the papers gave Lynn the “power of attorney” in case they needed a decision while I was sedated.

I was given a room for the night and they asked if I wanted a catheter. Lynn requested they use a diaper instead as it would be gentler on me, after all the trauma of the long night. The nurses were all giggling as they prepared me for bed.

“Maybe we should get him a pretty pink gown,” said one of them. “After all, he is dressed for it.”

The next day my doctor would come by to see me. I drifted off to sleep under the effect of the drugs.

Once my head started to clear, the pain coming from my crotch reminded me why I was in a hospital. I reached for my crotch only to find it wrapped in a diaper. The nurse came in, responding to my loud moans, and suggested I lay back down. She loaded a hypo and told me to relax and she would ease my pain a bit.

“We don’t want you too sedated until after your doctor visits,” she informed me. “We did clean off what was left of your makeup, and put your heels and dress in the closet. Two of the nurses thought you looked cute in your makeup and wanted to redo it. We don’t get many sissies here. Most go to the men’s wing so I’m surprised you were sent to the women’s wing. You’d better behave yourself.”

Listening to her words while realizing I was wearing a pink hospital gown, I started to blush, which only seemed to entice her towards more humiliating remarks.

“Well baby, it’s time to change that diaper of yours. I’m sure it’s wet after last night.” She chided.

“I can take it off myself,” I shot back. “I’m not a baby, and I don’t need a diaper.”

“I’ll believe that only if it’s dry! If it’s wet we’ll know that you’re really “Baby Kellie”. And this is our hospital, you’re the patient. I say when you are to be changed and by whom, not you! If you interfere I can have you restrained to the bed in a matter of minutes,” The nurse fired back.

She approached and reaching under my gown, proceeded to check my diaper. “Wet, just as I suspected,” she teased.” I guess it is Baby Kellie then isn’t it?”

I was starting to feel the painkiller and did not respond to her.

She grabbed my chin and held my face up to look directly at her, asking again, “Did Baby Kellie not hear the question? A grown-up knows when to respond properly. I guess it is just more evidence of what you really are, isn’t it?”

“No ma’am and my name is Kyle, not Baby Kellie or Kellie,” I retorted with as much strength I could manage. “The only reason I would be wet would be from my injury.”

“You know, you will be here in my charge for the next few days. I recommend you think about your answers before responding.”

With that statement, she called another nurse and quietly gave her some directions. Shortly, two nurses came into the room with a small bundle. In my sedated state, I could not struggle as they attached hospital restraints to my hands and proceeded to change my diaper.

They paused to check my damaged crotch and shook their heads, seemingly in pity for my suffering.

As the breakfast cart was delivering to the other two patients in the room, I could see the head nurse whispering to the serving lady. She giggled a bit and the nurses all left the room. I asked the food lady to unbind my hands so I could eat, and was told not to worry, as the nurses would take care of my breakfast.

One of the nurses brought a covered tray to me, but when she uncovered it there were only a couple of baby bottles on it. She brought one over and put it to my lips told me to start sucking.

“You don’t think we’re going to give you solid food and have to change a stinky diaper do you,” she informed me.

I sucked the soft nipple only to find it was filled with their basic hospital baby formula. I softly sobbed to myself as I finished both bottles.

Shortly after my ‘breakfast’, Mistress Lynn and my Doctor, actually Lynn’s Doctor, a stunning brunette, about 42 with a gorgeous figure, walked in talking as if I weren’t even there.

They finally broke off their conversation and Lynn came over and kissed me to say hello. “How’s my baby,” asked Lynn?

“I’m okay ma’am,” I replied, “but please don’t call me that here. The nurse has been treating me like a baby all morning.”

Lynn did not reply to my comment as Doctor Lopes started to speak. “Well, Kyle. It seems that…”

Lynn broke in telling the Doctor it was all right to call me Kellie, as the nurses have been asked to also.

“Well then Kellie,” she continued, “It seems that you have two severely swollen testicles, and because of their current location, we can’t examine them properly until they shrink. I have prescribed some painkiller and anti-inflammatory drugs, and I am going to give you a shot of a testosterone blocker. It should help the swelling go down by keeping them from producing sperm for a while.”

She turned to Mistress Lynn who was wondering how long the effects would last and if there were any side effects. As Doctor Lopes administered the drug she told Lynn that it only needed to work for a few days to help with shrinkage. She finished the shot and finished saying that unfortunately it’s effects would probably last at least 6 months, maybe more.

I was stunned and asked how I was supposed to have sex? She said that I may have already caused enough damage that they may need to be removed entirely. That until the swelling went down we would not know what shape they were in.

Lynn piped in something about me having to use a strap-on and they both laughed.

The doctor continued that there might be other side effects. I would probably start to feel more effects from the estrogen in my system because of the lowered testosterone. I may notice softer skin and less beard growth. In extreme cases, there may be an increase in sensitivity and possible swelling in my nipples.

I was stunned and wanted to speak out but was too weak from the drugs. Lynn’s face lit up over that one and they walked out of the room together talking. When they returned Dr. Lopes gave me another shot. I asked what it was and was told it was the anti-inflammatory and painkiller and some other hormones to help me.

I wanted to know exactly what they were and they just said, “Don’t worry baby,” and left the room. I fell asleep and was awakened to a nurse changing my diaper. When it was in place she placed a bottle between my lips and patted my diaper.

“There you go Kellie, all dry,” she said, as Mistress Lynn entered the room.

“You look so cute with your baby bottle Kellie. Look, I brought you some clothes from home to make you feel more comfortable.”

With that, she unfastened my hands and helped me out of the pink hospital gown and tossed it aside. She reached into the bag and pulled out my lacy pink baby-doll nightie and pulled it over my head.

The nurse was laughing and remarked as to how cute I looked when Lynn pulled a pair of pink plastic pants and began pulling them up my legs. The nurse said I looked like such a beautiful little girl she would have to get the others to see. I was turning brighter shades of pink and red than any I was wearing.

Lynn stood by and smiled at her handy work while the nurses gathered to get a laugh from a very humiliated baby Kellie.

Before leaving Lynn informed me that the second shot from Dr. Lopes included a time-release estrogen that would work for about a year. She said it was totally her idea.

“After all, isn’t it a great opportunity to give you that nice smooth crotch you were begging for the other day?”

She reminded me to be a good girl and to obey my nurses saying she will receive a full report when she returns the next day.

Later that afternoon two nurses came in to change my diaper and bathe me. While washing me they seemed to be deliberately trying to arouse me. I’m sure they knew this was causing me a good deal of pain. They commented on my erection and even though I don’t lack in the size dept, their interest was to see me squirming from my painful balls and the humiliation.

They were talking about how sweet I looked with no balls hanging down. By the time they finished bathing and teasing me, I was begging to have my diaper back and be left alone.

Not being done with their humiliations, they again restrained by hands to the bed and pulled out a bottle of pink polish that matched my outfit. As I lay there helplessly they did my fingers and toenails, commenting. “I needed to look more feminine if I was to stay on the women’s wing of the hospital. We sure don’t want some admin figuring out that you are a guy and taking our fun away before we finish you.”

That last statement had me worried and wondering. As they left the room, I heard one say something about sending in the hairdresser.

I slept for a while. Upon awakening, I found I had enough slack in the restraints to reach my cock. I lay in bed rubbing myself through the diaper as best I could. Just my luck, as soon as I started feeling good, the head nurse appeared out of nowhere and slapped my hands away. She berated me for having such a small male mind that all I could think about was my cock.

“Don’t worry though little Kellie, after your medications kick in and we do some magic it will be like it’s not even there anymore.” The nurse said sweetly.

“You can’t remove my cock,” I protested!

“Oh, we would never do that, we’re just going to give you a less offensive look. Women around here just don’t want to see and have no use for that cock of yours. We’ll just make it disappear. Your wife thought it a great idea. I’ll be back soon with your lunch and something to help keep your hands out of trouble.”

The nurse returned with a couple of bottles and something I couldn’t make out. Before feeding me she stretched out what looked like a sock and told me to put my hand in it. Not knowing what it was I obeyed. She told me to make a fist, and when I did she pulled it snug over my wrist and fastened a strap there securing it. My hand was stuck in this position and was now virtually useless. I tried to hide my other hand from her but she reached over and twisted my nipple until I placed my hand in the sock.

“Looks like you won’t be touching anything without permission now.” she chuckled. “Let’s see if you can hold your baby bottle with them. Ha, Ha.”

“Why can’t I have some real food? I don’t want to drink from a bottle,” I protested.

“But all babies use bottles in this hospital, and you’re no different Kellie. And besides, you could use the practice sucking,” she laughed.

“Yeah, then why don’t you let me suck your tits? That will be good practice,” I snapped back.

She walked over with fire in her eyes and grabbed each of my nipples and pulled me up so my back was arched. Looking into my eyes, she said I had just made a big mistake and if I didn’t apologize and behave, she would make my nipples long enough to reach my own lips. I was crying from the pain in my chest and promised to be a good girl and let her do what she thought best.

She let go and I fell back and tried to soothe my sore nipples and realized how useless my hands now were. The nurse placed the bottle between my bound hands so I could drink and left the room. Soon, another nurse returned with a tray of food.

“I finally get some real food,” I thought.

“Ready for lunch, baby Kellie?” she asked.

I nodded and dropped the bottle from my lips. It turned out only to be baby food, but in at least it was in adult-sized portions.

She started spooning in oatmeal, spinach, and prunes until I finished it all. She popped the second bottle in my mouth and cleared away the tray.

She then opened my diaper and left it spread out under me. The head nurse came back in and started spreading a thick lotion on my crotch and ass. Her ministrations caused quite a stir in my loins.

“Enjoy it while you can Kellie, it may be your last for quite a while.” She commented casually.

I just wanted to be able to reach out and stroke it. Remembering my sore tits I wasn’t even taking my bottle from my lips while she finished her chore and they both left me alone.

The nurses returned and cleaned the lotion from my crotch.

“We know you’re shaved, this lotion just keeps it from growing back,” one of them told me. “Now it’s time for us to get to work on this crotch of yours.
are the love

Woman Turns Boyfriend Into A Sissy Slave, Then Into A Whore To Make Money For Her

10-12 minutes

I want to thank you for your new magazine, I knew there were others out there who enjoyed feminizing and sissifying men, but never has this wonderful process been so publicized as it is in Enslaved Sissies.
I actually began this with my boyfriend during our junior year in college. I became interested in feminization, and later sissification because my older sister’s husband is a doctor who has done some work with transsexuals. I began reading books and gathering information on websites and got started by crushing up Feminique and Triple Strength Mammary and putting them in Mark’s food and drinks without his knowing. Mark had a body I knew would convert with relative ease, average weight and height, strong but not over muscular. He had a sex drive that wouldn’t quit, was very masculine and was somewhat condescending toward women. These are all traits combined that told me Mark was the perfect person, the one I would work to change.
As the weeks and months went by I watched Mark’s body closely when we would have sex, or when I could get a peek at him naked. I noticed his skin was becoming softer to the touch and some swelling under his nipple. It wasn’t until his nipples began to itch that he noticed anything different. For a while he constantly scratched them. It got to the point where he could not stand it and I offered him some cream to ease the itch. It was your breast cream and it helped accelerate the development of his new breasts.
By spring break he appeared to lose his sex drive, but he was trying to hide his body from me because the changes were very obvious. I would get my arm around him and reach for his nipples and rub them, and I could tell he was getting turned on, his little breasts were sensitive. Mark was much less talkative and seemed distant as he was obviously wondering what was happening to him. He did not want to go home for the summer because of this and I invited him to spend the summer with me, as I would be house sitting for my sister while she and her doctor husband spent the summer in Europe. It was my big opportunity and I would spend the summer working not only on his body, but his mind too.
I could see, as we were together a lot, he was becoming more emotional becoming prone to tears and not being able to stop. I told him not to be ashamed women do it all the time. He told me he was not a woman and should not be crying. I confided in him that I had seen a lot of changes in him over the past year, changes I liked. I said he was now sweet, kind, thoughtful and considerate and that he seemed more empathetic to me and women in general.
I wanted to have sex with him, but with him on the bottom, so he could see sex from where I usually lay. Rubbing, fondling and sucking his nipples, I got him to where he would have probably done anything. I got in a top position to slide his cock into me while I rode him rubbing his nipples all the while. His climax and my orgasm were the best sex we ever had. He told me he wanted to have sex that way all the time. I agreed with the condition that he play along with me.
I told him I wanted him to spend the summer learning what it is like to be a woman. I told him that I wanted him to dress like a woman, act like a woman, and do all the things we women do every day. At the end of the summer I told him he could return to school as normal. He seemed confused at the suggestion and reluctant until I began fondling his nipples and cock again, and remembering the powerful climax, he agreed.
I told him I had been putting your hormones in his food and drinks for months and that explains the sensitive nipples, budding breasts, emotions and softer skin. I told him that if he wanted to go back to his normal life at summers end, I would stop the hormones and his body would return to its former state. I was lying because on the web I had found a permanent feminization treatment for men, that would fully develop breasts, round the hips, narrow the waist, create a feminine figure and soften the skin. I started using this treatment on him in March and knew by the end of August the 6 months would be up and his body would be feminine for life.
We began buying Mark clothes whenever I could afford them. I worked all summer and he stayed home and cleaned house and cooked. I knew that the name Mark would not do for the summer, so I gave him the name Marie, Marie Alexis, and had him take my last name. From the start with his body shaved, his new clothes, wig and my help with his makeup, Mark already looked like a very convincing Marie Alexis. There were the initial struggles with high heels, bras, stockings and makeup technique, but by mid summer Marie was well adjusted and had developed a new feminine routine that she at first commented took so long to get ready. I said it was just another part of learning what it is like to be a woman. A couple of weeks before it was time to go back to college Marie said she would have to take a semester off to allow her body to get off the hormones and return to his male self as Mark. Her breasts were quite full and the shape of her body was decidedly feminine, except for what was between her legs. It was then I sat her down and told her that I had been giving her new pills since March and these permanently altered the body. I said that he would forever have a feminine body but with a cock and balls. I told him he was now a she-male and I showed him some magazine with photos and stories of others who were also she-males. I said that the only choices for him now were to remain a she-male, and to begin therapy and counseling to get a sex change and have the cock and balls removed and eliminate the last visible sign of his maleness.
Tears flowed and flowed as she screamed how could I have done this, how could she live and how she could never go home or see old friends again. I consoled her and told her all the wonderful things about being a woman and being able to dress pretty or dress in slacks or jeans and how women are free to cry and show emotions and how women are in reality the superior and controlling gender. I said proof of that is how I was able to change you so much, at first without your knowledge and then get you to spend the summer as Marie Alexis.
I told her I had a surprise for her and told her to get undressed and wait for me on the bed. I came into the room with a strap on dildo and some lubricant and sat on Marie, coating her asshole with the gel. Marie tried to get up but could not and screamed to no avail. I shoved it into her, as she screamed in pain at first, then relented and took it from me as I raped her. I reached one hand on her left breast and the other on her cock as I pumped and got Marie to explode onto the sheets. I felt so powerful and Marie was shocked at my demeanor. I told her that is another thing women have put up with is being forced into sex and used as an object, not a person, I slapped Marie’s ass repeatedly and yelled at her to lick up what she got on the sheets. I called her a cum sucking slut, using all the cruel words that we women have heard for so long. Marie was beaten, exhausted, devastated and best of all mine!
When my sister and her husband returned we were both there. They had met Mark before, but did not know I intended to do this to him. Marie did not want them to see this, but I forbade her from leaving. They, of course, remembered Mark, and were surprised when I said that the beautiful woman standing before them was him, now Marie. My sister embraced and kissed her and her husband also gave her a big hug and kiss. My sister said she had no idea Mark wanted to be a woman, but said she made the right choice because she was gorgeous. Her husband agreed and said Marie would have no trouble finding dates. He told Marie that he would be glad to handle any plastic surgery she may want in the future or breast enhancement, though he said her breasts were very beautiful already.
I rented an apartment for Marie and me. I went back to class, but Marie was not in college. I hooked up with a woman that came highly recommended as a trainer of sissies and in total behavior modification. I sent Marie away to be with her for three months telling the Mistress that I was looking for a completely obedient sissy slave incapable of being on her own or making any decisions in her life, someone who would be totally dependent on me forever.
In early December I went to pick up Marie. When the Mistress brought her out she was wearing a pink french maids uniform, petticoat and ruffled pink and white panties, pink stockings and garter belt, pink opera gloves with white lace trim and pink 6 inch heels with locks on her ankles. Her makeup was perfect, not overstated but fresh, with pink lipstick and her long nails with matching pink nail polish.
Marie curtsied before me and extended her hand. In a soft voice she said she was so pleased to see me again and would be honored to serve me in any way I wish.
Marie has now been my sissy slave for two years and in that time has never once questioned any command and has done all she is told to.
When I told Marie last year that I wanted to have her placed in an FL Frenum Chastity device she was only too happy to accommodate my wish and it is such a thrill seeing her former cock locked up and imprisoned just as I have had done with her body and mind.
Once chastised, I wanted Marie to begin bringing money into the household too. During the day she is my sissy maid totally domesticated, at night she is now an escort, more specifically she is working for a service I was put in touch with by the Mistress who sissified her.
She told me there is nothing like having a sissy cocksucker bringing home some money. The Mistress helped Marie learn to dress slutty for her work as a prostitute, and my sissy by day, on some nights, becomes a total whore.
I have the best of all worlds now, a good job and someone who waits on me for everything. I would encourage any woman to follow what I have done to convert Mark the boyfriend into Marie Alexis the sissy maid and cocksucking chastised slut. It is possible to put men in their proper place, on their knees before us to serve.
Mistress Jennifer

ozy.com

Fifteen men stagger through the English countryside, naked apart from their shoes, paintball masks and groin guards. Their thighs are scraped and bruised from falling, their bottoms striped in red. When a whip cracks behind the men, one of them stumbles and falls. Dominatrix Mistress Medulla stands above her capture. At first he cowers, and then he submissively nods his head. He belongs to her for the rest of the weekend to trample, whip, gag and abuse as she likes — or at least up to the hard limits written on his leather collar.

Human foxhunts are an esoteric fantasy, even for the sexually adventurous BDSM crowd. Many involve corseted dominatrices chasing their prey through woodlands, their submissive quarry eager to be caught. The stalking takes place across the world — recent hunts were held in England, Australia, Florida and California. It’s a niche but growing area of female domination (femdom), where (mostly) men pay for the right to be subservient. But interested parties can’t just show up. To join the hunt, you must fill out an application, come with a recommendation and have an established presence in kink communities like Fetlife. For genuine submissives, working for it is part of the process.

I don’t love the idea of a paintball hitting my cock. But being under a mistress’ control so completely — well, that would be worth it.

Thomas, submissive

“The first time we did a slave hunt, we pelted them with eggs,” says Mistress Natalya Sadici, a participant in the Florida-based weekend retreats of the Order of Indomitus, a group of dominant women. “The slaves are given a head start on the property — we have five acres for them to run around.” Eggs proved sticky and smelly in the Florida heat, so the order’s creator and organizer, Mistress Michelle Lacy, and the other priestesses changed the ammo to paintballs launched with slingshots. Slaves wear protective goggles, footwear — there are alligators in Florida — and a collar. Nothing else. And they follow strict rules. “We have a system of how a slave should conduct himself,” Mistress Natalya says. “They don’t speak unless spoken to. We keep them on point the whole weekend.”

The Order of Indomitus was founded in 2010; their hunts began in 2013. Slaves pay $2,200 for a weekend of worship, which includes floggings and sleeping in locked cages (no extra charge). The order has so many applications that they limit the number of participants on the receiving end. Their biggest event involved 12 slaves (a total haul of $26,400, for those of you doing the math). Thomas, a 35-year-old customer service rep from England, who asked that his last name not be used, is considering attending a hunt next year. He finds the idea very exciting — and the beauty of it is that any reservations he has about participating only add to his arousal. “Of course, I’m worried about being hurt and struggling,” he says. “I don’t love the idea of a paintball hitting my cock. But being under a mistress’ control so completely — well, that would be worth it.”

Though every slave hunt is different, I’m told repeatedly that they’re all inspired by Other World Kingdom, a Tolkienesque place that sounds like some perverted fairy tale. But here truth is stranger than fiction. In 1996, a group of dominatrices banded together to establish a micronation in a remote part of the Czech Republic. “You can’t be in the industry and not know of OWK,” says Mistress Ayn, an Atlanta-based dom. “It’s like saying you’re a football fan, but you’ve never heard of John Elway.” The femdoms resided in a 16th-century castle, serviced by male slaves who slept on straw, bowed to every woman they met and lined up for daily lashes. It was a femdom utopia governed by latex goddesses. Financial difficulties forced OWK to disband around 2008, but millennial femdoms keep the beacon alight with modern-day hunts.

For those who can’t attend in person, there’s a Second Life alternative. The avatar-based world has lost followers since its 2003 launch, but BDSMers have found its manufactured spaces perfect for virtual slave hunting. The Dominion, Roawenwood and other groups run hunts where captured slaves submit to every whim of their mistresses. There are enough of them that the blog Second Life Hunt was set up to chronicle the pursuits, the captures, the punishments.

Of course, the real-life version is infinitely more satisfying — but it also remains more elusive, as many doms don’t have the resources or the demand to run a pursuit. “I have never received a request for a scene involving hunting,” says Mistress Selina Raven. The Northern California–based dom is intrigued by the concept, but says it would be a challenge to do professionally — a responsible dominatrix needs to think about venue safety, permissions and medical facilities. Atlanta-based Mistress Ayn scoffs, “The idea of hunting [men] in the woods seems farcical. It’s not part of being a professional dom.” She adds, however, that she’s not an outdoors person. “Getting scratched, dirty and bug-bitten has no appeal to me,” she says. “I like a nice, clean dungeon.”

Bay Area sexologist Dr. Sandra Lindholm doesn’t see slave hunts becoming mainstream for BDSM play. She thinks the sociopolitical implications — such as the African-American slave experience — deter many people. However, as long as hunts are safe and consensual, she doesn’t have a problem with them. “Feeling free to not be in control can be very erotically exciting,” she says. “[Just be sure that ] participants are able to decipher between fantasy and reality.”

For those who fantasize this way, Mistress Natalya Sadici says it’s often a reaction to today’s patriarchal society: “A lot of men find women who embrace their power very attractive.”

Neutering The Pet

By Anonymous · Feb. 01, 1998

“We’ve decided on neutering for you,” Mistress Claire told her pet, smiling broadly as she did so. A lovely 36-year old blonde, she shared ownership of the slave with several girlfriends who, like her, were married and young mothers.

"Thank you, Mistress," the slave answered obediently and almost in a

whisper. He had hoped this moment would never come, but Claire had long ago made it clear that this treatment was necessary.

Actually, the women had decided on this a year earlier, using the time

since to locate a female veterinarian and to intensify the slave’s Feminization and obedience training through ever longer and more extreme stays in dog kennels.

It was felt that these activities would speed the pet's adjustment to the

neutered state.

"Have you any questions?," the Mistress asked in a gently feminine voice.

"Will you do it?" he asked.

"No, I'm afraid it's beyond my skills, but I'll assist the veterinarian if

she’ll allow that. The procedure is complicated and best left in the hands of a professional. She’ll ensure that it is done safely and all but painlessly under local anesthesia.

"I'll take you to the veterinarian tonight and after you've been neutered

you will remain in her kennel overnight for observation. I’ll stay with her and, if all goes well, bring you back here tomorrow afternoon,” the Mistress said.

"It's to be done tonight?" the slave asked in amazement.

"Yes, we'll be leaving in a few minutes, actually," the Mistress replied.

She had mercifully left her announcement to the last moment to spare her slave the anxiety that might have arisen from too long a period between the sentence and realization of castration.

The Mistress knew the slave would willingly, though perhaps not eagerly,

accept her decision and so was confident in making the final arrangements.

"You will strip now," the Mistress ordered.

The slave was only dressed in the normal "serving" attire of bra and

panties and instantly removed these to stand naked before the Mistress.

She quickly locked the leather dog collar and three-foot chain leash

around the pet’s neck and pulled the lead taut with her left hand. With her right, she lifted the Kali Chastity, a fearsome metal band with 120 internal spikes now secured by another padlock tightly around the slave’s penis.

He sucked in his breath in pain as she tested the security of the Kali,

which was designed to punish erections or even “impure” thoughts or any other arousal in response to women. Even during the brief periods that the device was not in place, the slave could not sustain an erection so there was no chance of ever having sex with a woman. That was forbidden, anyway.

In contrast, submissive sex with men was viewed as "natural and proper"

for the pet by Mistress Claire and her girlfriends, so the Kali was removed at such times to permit arousal that the slave was, in fact, embarrassed by.

The Mistress now ran her fingers gently over the slave's balls, causing a

pleasant sensation and helping to calm her pet.

Then she took an overnight bag with her things and a fresh bra and panty

set for the slave and gently led her pet by the leash through the door to the garage. She opened the rear hatch of her sports utility vehicle and motioned for the slave, still naked, to climb in. A big woven wire dog pen was anchored there.

"Into the cage with you," she ordered.

The slave was then harnessed within the cage for safety in case of short

stops and the door of the pen was closed, but not locked shut.

"Rest now. It's about a two hour drive to the vet's country home where the

procedure will be done. She’s waiting for us there,” the Mistress said. With that she placed a thin, white cotton hood over the cage.

This cover served to help keep the pet warm during the journey, to hide

the pen’s contents from onlookers through the windows and prevent the slave from learning the location of the Surgical Mistress’ home.

The slave tried to rest during the trip as the Mistress had ordered, but

his mind raced with thoughts of what would occur in just a few hours. While the pet accepted that both the neutering and the Mistress’ decision to order it were entirely proper, there was fear of the actual procedure.

Finally, the vehicle pulled to a stop at the destination and the Mistress

removed the hood and opened the cage. She had honked the horn twice upon their arrival and the veterinarian now came out to greet them.

Stepping to the ground, the pet immediately assumed a position on all

fours while Mistress Claire held the leash gently in her hands. The house appeared to be located on a farm in the country with no other buildings around, so the slave’s nakedness would not shock the neighbors.

The Surgical Mistress was Irish lady of 26 with a cute turned up nose and

model-like features. She had long black hair and wore a white silk blouse and short, black cotton skirt. Like the pet’s owners, she was happily married but had strong feelings for others of her sex.

"Welcome, Claire," the woman said with a smile, "it's so nice to see you

again.”

"Yes, and I've brought a friend with me this time," Claire answered.

"How lovely," she replied, as if she had no idea why the pet was brought

to her.

With that, the two women kissed in greeting, first on the lips and then

more intimately. Claire was surprised at how forward the other lady was since she hardly knew her, but she was pleased that they would become much closer later that evening.

"Let's go to the examining room," the veterinarian said, leading the way

there.

Now, turning to the pet, she said: "You're to be neutered tonight. How do

you feel about that?”

"I know it's necessary, but I'm a little nervous," came the response.

"Well, that's natural, but there's nothing to worry about. It will all be

over before you know and afterward you’ll be calmer and even content in the service of women.”

Mistress Claire smiled in satisfaction at the words.

Picking up a riding whip, the Surgical Mistress tapped the Kali Chastity

with its harsh spikes locked onto the penis. “Does it hurt?” she asked.

"Only during erections," the slave responded.

"Well, you'll soon be less troubled by those," she said.

"Can the pet function with women?" the lady asked of Claire.

"I doubt it, but we don't really know since we have not permitted sex with

women in nearly 10 years and never will. The pet does suck ‘cock’ and receive it anally, if you’ll forgive the vulgarity,” the Mistress replied.

"How delightful," the veterinarian said with a smile and then, turning to

the slave, she asked: “Do you like taking it up the ass?”

"Yes, Mistress," the slave was forced to answer, giving the only response

permissible to such a question since it was seriously punishable to imply that sex with males was in any way objectionable. After all, the Mistresses had ruled that this was the only form of sexual activity appropriate for the pet.

"Once you're fixed, sexual thoughts of women will be less prevalent and

sex with men even more satisfying,” the Mistress said.

The next 15 minutes were spent getting a medical history, doing a basic

physical and checking for any allergies to antibiotics or various anesthesia drugs.

Finally, the veterinarian said "I'm afraid the Kali band must be removed

for the procedure and remain off for a few days after.”

Claire then unlocked and removed the device, placing it into her

pocketbook.

"Would you like to watch the procedure?" the woman asked.

"Of course I'd love that if it would not trouble you."

"Not at all. You'll simply have to wear a mask and surgical scrubs as I do

for sanitary purposes.”

"That will be fine. Thank you."

"I must now ask you formally. Do you accept neutering?," the lady

inquired.

Once the Mistresses had issued the neutering sentence,  the slave could

not escape it unless they changed their minds. However, declining the procedure could bring a delay of one month at a time with automatic rescheduling until it finally was accomplished. This option was not explained to the slave since immediate agreement was fully expected and obtained.

"Yes, Mistress," the slave responded, faintly.

"Very well. Let's proceed," she said, motioning for Mistress Claire and

her pet to follow her into the operating room. The lady now removed her blouse and skirt, preparatory to donning her surgical clothes, and she pulled down her panties.

"You may kiss my sex now in thanks," she said.

"Thank you, Mistress," the slave responded, bringing lips tentatively to

her pubic mound and then, fearfully, to her outer labia.

The act highlighted the superiority of the female's sex since the genitals

of the lady surgeon and the Mistress would remain intact while those of the slave would shortly be sacrificed for the pleasure of women.

Mistress Claire then presented her own sex to be similarly kissed in

respect, spreading her legs slightly so that her nether lips were partially open.

The slave noticed in kissing her that her pubic mound was damp, betraying

her sexual excitement at the prospect of the pet’s castration at her command.

The Mistress herself noticed the slave's mild erection at the sight of two

lovely young women and their pubic mounds. She smiled, but grabbed the balls and squeezed painfully to punish her slave’s improper behavior.

"I'll miss these," she said, "but not as much as you will."

"Actually, you'll still have them to play with," the Surgical Mistress

said, casting a knowing smile to Mistress Claire. The slave did not quite understand the meaning of this, but it would become clear shortly.

With that, she gave the leash a gentle tug and urged the pet onto the

operating table. It was lightly padded and covered with white plastic, a new sanitary sheet. Hands were secured with leather straps to the sides, the middle was similarly immobilized and the ankles restrained at the base of the table.

A white cotton screen was then moved into place at the level of the pet's

chest, blocking the view of the surgical field.

"You'll be more comfortable not seeing the action, but I'll describe the

procedure at various points,” the veterinarian explained.

The two women then left the room briefly to wash thoroughly and put on

their surgical gowns, gloves and masks to ensure sanitary conditions.

"I'm going to shave your balls first and then apply antiseptic to the

area. Hold very still as I work with the razor. We don’t want any accidents,” the Surgical Mistress said, quite seriously.

Of course she quickly realized the humor of her words as she saw Claire's

smile. Nicking the scrotum with the blade would be of no consequence since it was about to be slit open and its contents removed.

"I'm going to inject the anesthetic now," the Mistress said.

"You'll feel a brief sting and then a burning sensation as it circulates

through the scrotum. Once the area is numbed, I’ll inject the balls themselves with a more powerful anesthetic and the preservative solution.”

She smiled at Mistress Claire and had not intended to detail the purposes

of this special solution. However, the pet’s owner asked “Won’t you tell us more about the preservative?”

"Yes, Mistress. Of course. The solution has three tasks. First, of course,

it’s an anesthetic. However, the bulk of it will preserve the balls since your Mistress wishes to display these to her girlfriends in a jar. The preservative must be injected while they are still within the body for complete circulation. Once they’re in the jar, they will appear forever just as they did upon removal.”

"One side effect of the preservative is that it destroys the function of

the testes, so you’ll be chemically castrated even if your Mistress decides not to proceed with surgical removal of your balls.”

"There's no chance of that," Claire assured her.

"Very well. Let's begin." With that, she gave the first of several

injections to numb the scrotal sac.

After a few minutes, the anesthetic took effect and the Mistress

announced: “I’ll now inject the preservative into the balls. We’ll then wait 10 minutes until you’re fully numb and chemical castration is complete. After that, I’ll begin the formal neutering procedure.”

With that, she made several injections into first the right ball and then

the left. There was an immediate burning sensation, but no pain.

"How does it feel?" the Surgical Mistress asked.

"It burns a bit," the slave answered.

"That's natural and to be expected. It will quickly subside once the

preservative has fully circulated and the chemical neutering is complete.”

The Mistresses then made small talk as they waited for the anesthetic and

preservative to take full effect.

Finally, the Surgical Mistress announced: "I'm happy to report that you've

been neutered. Ordinarily, chemical castration is at least theoretically reversible, but given the action of the preservative, that does not apply in your case.”

"I mention this only in passing since you are to be neutered in

traditional fashion anyway in just a few moments,” she continued.

The slave felt pinches and mild pressure as the Surgical Mistress worked,

re-injecting more anesthetic at points as she did so. Finally, a two-inch incision was made at the base of the sac and the right ball and its tubule connections were brought out for surgery.

"I've exposed the right testicle now. Do you feel any pain?" she asked.

"No, Mistress," the slave answered.

The veterinarian now began the procedure in earnest as Mistress Claire

looked on in pride and amazement. The Surgical Mistress described only the highlights of the operation to the subject, not wishing to cause undue concern.

The surgery, which took 1-1/2 hours, was far more complex than Claire had

imagined. However, she was grateful that the woman she had selected to neuter her pet worked so carefully and methodically, with comfort and safety foremost in her mind.

First, the right testicle was squeezed out through the incision, still

attached by vessels and tubes at the base and a ligament that had to be broken down to exteriorize the ball completely. The fat around the spermatic cord was then carefully scraped with the scalpel to allow for tying off and suturing.

Next, the spermatic cord was clamped and sutured both above and below the

pinched off portion to prevent bleeding when the cord was cut. Finally, the cord was severed and the first testicle fully removed. The end of the cord was then checked for bleeding and, when the Mistress was satisfied all was well, it was released back into the scrotal sac.

The process was then repeated on the other testicle and the sac sutured.

The neutering concluded, the Mistress released the slave from the table and Claire handed him a pair of white cotton panties to wear for the night.

She then led the slave down the stairs to the basement dog kennel and

opened one of the cages. “Get in. We’ll come for you in the morning so the veterinarian can check that everything is all right. Then we’ll go home.”

"Thank you, Mistress," the slave said to Claire, and then, turning toward

the other lady, said “Thank you as well.”

"It was my pleasure," she answered. "Rest now. You must be tired. I'll

check you tomorrow for signs of swelling or infection, but I don’t expect any problems. It all went very well. I’m sure this is something you’ve secretly longed for. You should be grateful to your Mistresses for giving you your wish.”

"Yes, Mistress," the slave replied, again giving the only response allowed

but not entirely certain that the Mistress was wrong in her assumption.

As the slave rested in the cage, feeling mild twinges and "phantom" pain

in the balls that now resided in a new home, the two women spent the night in each other’s passionate embrace. Their ardor was fueled by basic Lesbian attraction and sexual excitement heightened by the pet’s neutering.