My Demise into Sissification
- 2 years ago
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Ashley's Sissification free porn video
This is the true (really, I'm not making this up) story
about how Ashley became sissified.
Go get your coffee cup, that's right, and let's sit down
while I relate the true story of how I was turned into a
sissy. The how come or why part, I'll leave up to you.
Oooh, that's a pretty coffee cup you have!
We met in a smoky bar, filled with loud music and even
louder men and women. It was a hotel's bar; the hotel that
had just hosted a technical conference where I had been a
speaker as well as an organizer. I saw many familiar faces,
all unwinding, as conference attendees do on the last day
of any conference. How glad I was, it had come off pretty
well and now we could all let our hair down a bit, among
friends. I strolled confidently to the bar, and then she
turned to look at me.
I had never seen her before, but to say she looked radiant
would be an understatement. Her eyes were pretty much the
first thing that struck me. Those brown eyes, small in her
lovely head, yet deep and looking to... what? Something.
After the thunder-strike abated, the rest of her came into
focus: Her face was clearly one of distant, proud races
that long ago vanished from planets such as our Earth. One
could almost see a whole people in that one face. The hair
was incongruent around her face, and almost impossibly
luscious. Her strong frame forced my eyes past her nubile
breasts, to the round hips, and yes! A great pair of legs.
My head cleared somewhat, because I was being introduced.
The angel's name was Yvette.
After some chat about the conference, and maybe a little
too soon, I just came out with it and asked, "Would you
care to join me for dinner?"
I guess I should not have been surprised when she accepted;
the magnetism between us was that strong. Call it kismet or
some other force, but we just fit together, and it was
obvious.
We began dating, of course. Soon, being together became an
imperative. But the sex was, sadly, not matched by our
passion. So we began to explore.
We had enormous fun with role-play. "Meet you at the bar at
third floor of the restaurant on Delaware and Clark, babe.
You be the strange woman in black, I'll be the unsuspecting
businessman. Let's see what happens, then."
These games led to absurd levels of fun. In my wildest
dreams, I wouldn't have imagined myself doing some of the
things we did in public. And the sex was steadily
approaching a match for our passion for one another.
Relentlessly escalating in variety and intensity, we began
experimenting with dominance and submission, bondage,
things like that. We took turns playing the role of
dominant, of course, but I think I know when the crossroad
was reached.
One evening, Yvette telephoned me and "ordered me" to be
waiting at the door of my apartment, naked and kneeling.
When she arrived, and I'll never forget this, she was
wearing skin tight, black leather pants, a black bustier
and black spike heels. She walked into my apartment like
she owned it, like she owned ME! I was then made to crawl
behind her and she finally made me kiss that beautiful
leather ass I had been crawling behind. That she was
enjoying the moment was evidenced by her smile. The smell
of her leather, the sound it made, and her queenly demeanor
all served to excite me to heights I had never before
experienced at the hands of a woman. It had always been me
as the aggressor, really, before this moment. Then she
produced two black silk scarves.
She stood me against the posts of my own bed and tied my
wrists using the silk scarves, and believe me, this was all
making me very hot. I truly believe that it was on a whim,
and due to the ample length of the silky scarves, she
retied each in a big, fluffy bow.
Then she stood back to admire her handiwork and laughed,
"You're feminine!"
I couldn't help it, I began to coo and I put my legs
together in what must have looked like the most girlish
pose. She just laughed and we had great sex that night
after she released me. If I thought that would be the end
of it, I was soon to learn the true power of feminization.
That came some days later, when Yvette called to invite me
to a dinner date at a restaurant nearby to her. This didn't
strike me as unusual, as we were always trying out new
restaurants together, and this one was at a new "suites"
type hotel in her area. As expected, we had a marvelous
dinner at this fancy hotel eatery, complete with ample
doses of wine. Then Yvette did the sweetest thing.
Over our dinner table, she handed me a beautifully gift
wrapped box. "A present? For me?" I asked.
I was touched and filled with appreciation for this girl
who had so taken a fancy to me. I had to open it right
there and then! What I found inside made me turn three
shades of red. There, in the gift box was the most feminine
pair of panties I'd ever laid eyes on. They were white
silk, bikini panties with delicate but very pronounced
ruffles along the leg openings.
"Yes, my dear," she beamed, "they are for you! Not only
that, but I have a room at this very hotel and I intend to
put you in those panties personally!"
I couldn't help feeling the romance of that wash over me. I
felt, well... thrilled.
I think my hands were shaking by the time we got to our
suite. Immediately, I was made to strip and as she held the
panties out for me to step into, I knew that by stepping
into them I would be forever changed.
Yvette slid the silky confection up my now rubbery legs,
smiling at my reaction, and snugged them into place with a,
"You're mine now!"
I'm almost ashamed to admit how many times we had sex that
night. I had never felt so sexy in all my years leading up
to that moment. Not with any girl on my most mannish of
trysts had I ever been so virile. Undeniably, all of my
female conquests before this seemed somehow now to be
laughing at me. Suffice it to say, I lost count, and we
were both very late for work the next day.
The very next weekend found the two of us shopping for
bras, panties, stockings and even a miniskirt and blouse.
Items for me, that she had me wearing in short order once
she had me in my apartment. I was very embarrassed when she
started feeling me up in my little skirt, and that's when
she started calling me "sissy".
----
Special thanks to Petal, Alex, Anastasia Messier and others
who bravely posted their inspirational true stories.
Gert
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