Intro to Sissies XXIII
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Intro To Sissies XIII free porn video
Chapter 13
John Phillips stood there, in his high heels, stockings and
the oversized plug pushing in and out of him, slightly
dazed from his incredible orgasm, watching as time changed
its pace from slow motion to incredible, blinding speed. He
felt his cock drip one last drop of semen. He thought he
heard it land on the tiled floor with a dull splat. He
clenched his sphincter to push the plug out of him, and the
rubber strap pushed it back into him. There was no relief
there, he thought, somewhat vaguely.
Slowly, the words of Goddess Chanazine sifted into him
mind. "Some new additions," she had said. "Marie was
watching and was pleased," she had said.
He could hear them talking, shouting, but there was a roar
in his ears that made it all seem dim. His eyes had closed,
he noticed, and now he opened them.
Madam Magenta was still kneeling on the floor before him,
gagging and trying to rid herself of the taste of his
"sissycum". mandy, on his right, was looking at him,
amazed, with her lipsticked mouth half open and pouty. He
is very pretty, he thought, and will make someone a good
sissy. He mused over this thought, realizing that he was
acclimating.
Mistress Orange was standing in her orange PVC suit and
high heeled boots, orange hair and make up, with her hands
on her hips, not moving, just glaring at him, a smile of
distaste on her face.
Mistress Satin, who looked just like Rachel Welch, but
older, wiser and wearier, had gotten up and was getting a
gurney. She wasn't looking at him, but he could tell that
she was furious. She was muttering something about no more
last chances or something like that.
With a start he realized that he couldn't see Mistress Red,
and he found himself suddenly becoming very alert. He was
just starting to turn when...
The lash of the whip snapped and coiled round and round his
throat like a noose. He felt the heat of it and heard her
click up behind him. Her red gloved hand appeared before
his eyes holding a serrated knife with a seven inch blade.
"I should cut your balls off and make you eat them, maggot
slut," She hissed. "And I would too, if you were mine."
The knife left his vision and he heard and felt her cut the
rubber strap that kept his plug in. He pushed and suddenly
the plug left him and he felt relief, even as Mistress Red
yanked on the whip that was his noose and he was falling.
"Can't have you rupture yourself. Not yet."
He landed on the gurney and Mistress Satin pushed him to
laying. He met her eyes, and saw that behind the anger,
there was sadness. Her eyes were moist.
She said, "You had the chance. You have lost the chance.
And now the worst is yet to come. There is no going back. "
Mistress Orange came over and before he could struggle or
think or react or think, she and Mistress Red strapped his
wrists, and then his legs to the bars of the gurney.
Suddenly, Madam Magenta began to laugh, cackling. "Time to
see Ms. Grey, joansissy," she said from outside his vision.
"Hah hah, time to see Ms. Grey. Once," she interrupted
herself with a gag, and some hitching, and then some
laughter, hysterical laughter it seemed. "Once mansissy go
in, sissy come out sissy sissy, and no go back. Hah hah."
As Mistress Red began to push the gurney out of the room,
Madam Magenta ranted. "Now sissy always. Sissy forever. Tit
sissy, ass sissy. Mouth sissy. Sissy..."
John Phillips heard it dimly and then it penetrated and
echoed, even as her voice faded while the gurney that he
was on rolled down the corridor.
***
John Phillips was naked. They had cut off his clothes, and
removed his shoes. It felt good, even though he was tied
down, to be naked. The corset had been crushing and the
shoes bit like sharks. They had washed all the make up off
his face.
A girl, or maybe a sissy, it was hard to tell since she was
wearing hospital green coveralls, was hurting his face with
a little gun. It made a little sizzle sound, then made a
sting.
Mistress Satin sat on a high barstool over to his left. He
couldn't quite see her, since his head was in a vice, but
he could hear her. He couldn't talk to her either. Someone
had strapped a ball gag into his mouth, making his cheeks
stretch.
"I'm the Mistress of the clan. You are in my clan. I have
to tell you what is happening," She had said. Calmly,
emotionless.
"This nurse is removing your hair. Permanently. First, your
face, then your genitals, head, legs, lashes, everything.
It will take a while. Then Ms Grey, the doc, will be in."
Suddenly it all settled in and John felt lonely and alone.
Sad and betrayed. Anger followed, and then there was
terror. The door closed on him three days ago, but it was
all planned, he thought, somewhat disjointedly. They, who
were they? They... Now they are going to change me into
something... Who are they?
"Ms Gray will explain to you as you go along." Mistress
Satin intoned, lighting a cigarette.
A cigarette in a medical facility. They wouldn't like that.
Oh no. That would be most disconcerting to the American
Medical Association. Not sanitary.
Slam. But there is no AMA here. As they had rolled him in,
he had seen, out of side eyes, others who were here. The
vision that haunted him most was of the man lying on the
hospital bed. He had huge engorged breasts, distended and
pulled up by hooks pulling on his nipped rings. His penis
was also pierced and pulled, distended. He was moaning
through his gag. He was strapped down
As he had rolled by, Mistress Satin had commented, calmly.
"Bad sissy. Probably going to the dungeons soon."
John Phillips began to cry, and then, blessedly, he fell
asleep. And even as the little gun bit him and defoliated
him, he had no dreams. He was exhausted.
***
Slap!
"Wake up, joansissy. Time for operating."
John Phillips opened his eyes.
Mistress Satin said, "Doctor Grey, meet
joansissypieceofshit. Joansissypieceofshit, meet your
maker."
John Phillips eyes widened in terror. The person called
Doctor Grey was very old and very, very weird. Her face was
stretched tight as parchment, as though it had gone through
many plastic surgeries to keep her young. Her hair was
bleached blonde, oiled to dripping and tied in a tight bun.
Her pail skin was coated in some sort of latex makeup. It
shined so, and was colorful, with magentas and reds and
blues all blurring together. But what freaked him was her
left eye. It was clearly a fake eye, glass, and didn't
quite fit. It was too big and the pupil rolled all over the
place.
She smiled and John Phillips screamed into his gag. The
teeth. The teeth were straight, perfect and translucent.
They looked like they glowed in the dark, vampiric. "Now I
make you pretty. Like I am. Don't worry."
He felt a sting on his ass, and shortly after, he got
drowsy, calm, awake, aware, but cognizant. What happened
after passed in a rush, like seconds of time.
"Swab breasts."
Something purple and cold was applied by a nurse to his
chest by one of the nurses.
"Novocain."
He felt the ball gag removed and a needle penetrating his
gums, as his mouth was viced open.
Now Doctor Grey began talking to herself, or the room.
"This is the erethia, or the pleasure/pain gland. For
males, it is mostly hidden under muscle. We will bring it
forth. I take the scalpel, so."
There was a mirror above him, and John Phillips saw Doctor
Grey slice open his breast, just around the nipple. A
little blood flowed. He laughed, giddily. The drugs were
working.
"I pull this to attention and push this round plastic
shield in. If this were smooth, he would only have nipples,
and a pleasure point. But this one has small, little bumps.
It will touch the nerves of the erethia inside to make
pleasure/pain, and when touched outside, create more
pleasure, or pain, depending on how the toucher touches."
She laughed, her voice like straw.
"We distend it like so. It will be very tight. It will
hurt. This is good. Und so, and so."
John Phillips glanced over and saw Mistress Satin looking
at his chest, interested. Not in him so much, as the
process. He mumbled, "Ith all fuh you blabe."
"Novocain is good. Next nipple."
He looked in the mirror, saw the scalpel slice, the blood
flow, the work begun. Vaguely, he thought, laughing on
drugs, this doc is very good.
Doctor Grey inserted the other round plastic bumped shield
in. She began to suture. He looked at his new nipples and
saw them standing out like soldiers on his flat chest.
"Nipfs own luk dis when cold, doc," he said, slurred. "how
make fulatt."
Doctor Grey smiled at him, her glass eye rolling around
everywhere. "They don't. They will always stand out. You
will look priceless. You are very lucky."
He noticed her other eye then, and saw that it wasn't a
mean eye at all. The doctor liked what she did. He sighed.
"Neft?"
"We're going to do the implants. The sheet here says 44 EE,
but that's simply impossible. I can't pack that much into
you and ensure your health. We will do 42 D's. It's going
to be tight, and your skin will have stretch marks from it.
It's too much, really, but..."
He faded.
He awoke to the clanging in his brain.
"Crack it, if you have too," said Doctor Grey. "We'll glue
it later."
Bam!
"Cotton."
He felt his gums bleed. They are taking out my teeth!
The drugs took him again and he faded again.
***
"Welcome to the world, Joansissy."
Mistress Satin was standing there, before him. Smoky make
up, auburn hair, dangling earrings. Her skirt was pink
satin, her stockings black, her five inch heels pink. She
wore a floral vest that showed that her arms were indeed
feminine.
John Phillips was groggy. He'd forgotten. "What day is it?"
"Sunday morning, dear. We have to go to church. You are
heeled and ready and can do this, though I don't think you
will work tomorrow," she sighed. "Funny, you haven't worked
yet."
"It was only a nightmare. But you're pretty."
"Damn straight I am. Now get it together. I have to dress
your new beautiful body."
He tried to raise himself, but failed. He was wearing a
corset that did not bend. He pushed him up and felt the
weight of his new breasts. And his nipples tingle horribly.
They are on fire. He wants to caress them and feel them and
twist them and kiss them and....
"It's called a prison bra, joansissy. I have the key. Get
up. Let's have a look at you."
John Phillips managed, barely to turn and stand and looked
amazed at himself.
"After this, I forgive you, joansissy. You have clearly
been punished. There is no going back now."
He looked at himself. What have they Done!
Some when he had been bathed, and someone had given him an
extreme make over. He couldn't recognize himself at all.
Even his eyes were different. Maybe, maybe the shoulders
were the same, but no, even they weren't. They were
supporting new breasts, huge breasts. His breasts....
He was bald.
Shit.
"You will wear a long lined bra over that."
'That' terrified him. He had breasts now and they were
large. Very large. On each, was a hornier than hell nipple
sticking out, bright red. The aereoles where tattooed and
bright and the nipples were pierced. A ring was pierced
through them and attached to each exclamation nipped, was a
molar, polished to shine. They tingled and he so wanted to
touch them.
He felt back with his tongue and found most of his teeth.
But the back four molars, two up, two down, were missing.
Cotton pads were there instead.
"You'll be pleased to know that babysissy is no longer in
our clan."
His hands were raising up to feel the plastacene globes
that covered his breasts. He noticed that his nails had
been done up too. "Mistress Satin, why, if I may ask?"
"She spoke out one too many times and told Goddess
Chanazine to fuck off. And, your wife, Marie, said that was
not part of your program."
John Phillips tried to dig under the locked bra to touch
his breasts, breathless and in need. "She said that,
Mistress?"
Mistress Satin sat and lit a smoke, casual, and laughed.
"No babyshit for you, dear. Seems like Marie has money.
That walks and talks, but does not shit."
He felt over the plasticene, trying to touch his nipples.
It was the drugs still, that made him feel so calm, but yet
he was desperate. I want to caress me! It was not her
money. It was his. And she was spending it to guide him.
"Who's my room mate to be, Mistress Satin?"
"mandy."
Mistress Satin watched him try to get to his nipples and
finally, losing patience, said, "You can't touch them. Not
till you are allowed to. Let's get you dressed. It's
Goddess Chanazine day."
He stopped digging. The bra fastened around his neck with
two straps, and one, very tight about his waist. Plastacene
globes covered each of his breasts, so that if he wiggled,
the molars would just barely touch. The shell was hard,
curved and proportionate.
He sighed. But for this locked brassiere, and his corset,
he was naked. It was unworldly. She looked at Mistress
Satin and grimaced a smile. "Okay. Let's get me dressed. I
have some things I would like to say to 'Goddess Chan' and
my soon to be ex wife."
Mistress Satin finished her smoke. She knew about how this
could go, and was pleased that joansissy was fading into
herself. There is no fight here, she thought.
They started with the plug. John was informed, though he
didn't feel it, that he had been emaciated two hours
before. It was a monster, the royal jelly of sluttitude,
but he didn't complain.
Maybe it was the drugs. Maybe not.
The stockings went up fine and attached to his corset. He
would never admit that the tug of them felt good, or the
whisper of silk to skin. Never. And no way. But they did.
So smooth. He felt himself hardened. He tried to touch his
breasts again.
The long line brassiere bugged him. His nipples were
trembling like crazy and now they were being covered up.
Mistress Satin clasped the hooks and eyes behind him. Now
he just had two huge breasts in need.
The boots were black leather. Very high. Mistress Satin
said they were only five inches, but he felt like he was on
an eagles roost. They went to his knees. She pulled the
zip, and locked them. "You will be a good looking sissy,"
She said.
The gloves went to the shoulder. They were latex. Black,
but with the points of the fingers cut out. He noticed now,
that his nails were so long as to be useless, and each had
a dangling ring pierced into them. Mistress Satin attached
the straps from the gloves to the corset, and, again,
locked it.
"You won't be able to do your own make up, joansissy."
He wondered about that for a moment. "Who will?"
"mandy. Next time. I'll do it this time."
He felt himself encased. His nipples were screaming for
touch. John Phillips was losing himself.
"Now your cage, joansissy."
Pliant, he tottered to the bed, and laid back.
Mistress Satin began to insert a tube into his penis. She
pulled that back and connected it to his plug. "Don't pee.
It will give you acid." She laughed.
His dick hurt. The tube was laughing at him and then.
She smiled at her own joke. She pulled a leather sheath
around and over it and pocketed the glands into their
pouches, and then tightened a cord at it's base. "For
later."
She produced a pair of plastic panties. They rustled, and
he didn't like them at all. Mistress Satin helped him to
pull them on. And then She locked them also.
"I think now," She said. "Make up and dress, and we can go
to church."
***
Make up was a whole new ordeal of pleasure, pain and
embarrassment.
Mistress Satin looked at him, but through him, being
focused. He saw the paint, felt the lip liner, lipstick.
She attached long, thick heavy fake eyelashes to his lids.
He heard her humming a tune while she fussed with the
mascara, red, over and over again. She accidentally poked
his eye while she did the eyeliner, but didn't say sorry.
"Open your eyes wide, joansissy."
He did.
Suddenly, quickly, Mistress Satin popped them in. Contacts.
"Look at yourself you useless piece of shit," Venom
suddenly spat from her.
She actually helped him to stand up and he tottered over to
the full-length mirror.
He was bald. He was festooned with make up. He tottered. He
wore a narrow tummy inside a narrow corset. He was almost
beautiful. His eyes were neon blue. Stenciled into them,
just barely discernable was the word "slut" wrapped on
either side of the contact.
"Now the easy part."
She swabbed some goop on his bald head and then settled a
wig on him, adjusting it this way and that until it was
just so. It was neon blue, and a Betty page cut. It looked,
combined with his make up, punk slutty. "Non-toxic rubber
cement," She reassured him. "Washes off the head, and stays
in the wig."
She went to the closet and John Phillips couldn't help but
notice how beautifully Mistress Satin swayed her hips, back
and forth. He felt himself get hard and it hurt. She
returned with a short leather dress, again in neon blue but
of a darker shade. He stepped into it and pushed his
fingers through the long sleeves. She zipped the back and
tightened the straps around the wrists.
The dress was tight. It fit him like a glove. It fit him
like a second skin. It was tight and the hem of the skirt
reached just above his knees, pushing his legs together so
that his thighs touched. He didn't know how he was going to
walk in this. Very slowly, he thought. Mistress Satin
pushed him to sitting and he felt the plug push into him.
It hurt.
The boots were knee high, leather, tight and black,
matching his gloves. They had five inch heels and were
pointy. Mistress Satin shoehorned his stocking feet into
them. They were a bit too small and crushed his toes
together. She zipped them up. At the end of each zipper tag
was a rawhide cord. She reached up under his skirt and tied
that to the front garters of his corset. "You make me work
too hard, useless sissy. But mandy will take care of you
from now on. I don't think I want anything to do with you.
Although, I swear, you are one beautiful piece of work."
She smiled at him, weary, and sadly. "I'm sorry it had to
go so far, hon. And I'm sorry it has to go so much further.
But now, take a quick look at yourself. Then we have to go.
Goddess Chanazine will be most pleased. "
She helped him up and turned his tottering legs to the
mirror again, and he was floored.
He looked at himself. He had never seen a more voluptuous
woman in his life, although it was not at all to his taste.
The blue of the wig and dress, accented by the smoky
stockings and black gloves and boots, even the red
eyelashes and lips, and meshed together loud and stunning
and perfect. His body was curves, his legs taught and long.
He blinked, and saw the contacts swirl a bit.
"You look beautiful, dear, and you look complete."
"Thank you, Mistress Satin," he said sincerely, still
amazed. I'm still on drugs, he thought. I should be
screaming, but I'm not. I look better now as a woman, than
I ever did as a man. And that's wrong. Wrong! And I hate
this. But, oh lord, I look good. I look so very good.
Fuckable. Totally fuckable. And then John Phillips lips
began to tremble. This is me now. Go in man sissy, come out
sissy sissy, Mistress Magenta had said. And she was right
and true.
"Still though," Mistress Satin said, lighting a smoke. "You
have only just started. You've been here eight days, and
look at you now. You have a long way to go, it seems and
fast. I wonder, what did you do to piss off your wife so
badly. Or did you ask for this?"
John Phillips turned this way and that, barely standing,
tottering really, admiring his figure, his look. The
sensual pull of his teeth hanging from his nipple implants,
encased inside their plastacine shell irritated him and he
wanted to touch himself, but the dress covered the pocket
and made that impossible. He moaned. "Mistress Satin, would
you believe that I didn't piss her off at all, and I didn't
ask for this? It came as a complete surprise to me."
"No. I wouldn't. I have never seen such an aggressive
transformation. Ever. There is a hidden agenda here, and I
don't know what it is. Nor do I really care, but I am
curious. Anyways, it's time to go. I'll help you walk this
time. mandy will help you next time. Either that, or you're
on your own. You might need to crawl."
Elouise
- 17.01.2022
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