She Found a Sissy
- 4 years ago
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Intro To Sissy XV free porn video
Trapped!
Trapped into tears and despair.
Trapped into losing his life, his body, and now, slowly,
but quickly, his identity.
It had only taken a week, he thought, to make me into
something else. A slut, a sissy, a skank. He had hardly
known these words before, except as an insult, a passing
mention of someone else. He had barely even conceived these
true notions, concepts until a couple of months ago.
He had been on the Internet, researching lingerie.
Victoria's Secret was going bullish on the stock market and
he had thought that, hey, this market is not exhausted.
Let's try to go a different route, a wilder look. And then,
all of these pop ups had happened. Here slut, there sissy,
another pop up of don't you need a latex sissy. And as fast
as he could push them down... it was like a balloon.
The tears fell fast, like little waterfalls, smearing his
excellent mascara, blush, even his lipstick. His legs,
tottering, quaked. John Phillips had almost felt proud of
how nice he looked, devilishly nice. Now, his dignity, what
little remained, was stolen from him.
John Phillips, aka useless sissy, aka Joan useless sissy,
had tried, foolishly to defy Her, Goddess Chanazine. He had
flipped her the bird, but She had only laughed and all of
the people, the sissies, transfems, Mistresses, had laughed
also. At him. And then the lecture, and Marie: She had made
it clear, that he wasn't needed anymore, as he once was: A
man, with an income, house, cars, nice cars even, a
Mercedes and a LandRover. Money. Stuff.
The Meeting of the Punishments passed before him through a
haze. Bunny got another anklet, someone else got three. He
didn't really follow, because he was busy crying.
He had just sat down, when Goddess Chanazine called him to
the stage, "useless joan, you get a merit badge, or rather
a necklace. Come down. No demerits for you, useless, since
you were passed out most of the week. It would almost be
wise to stay that way."
His thoughts roiling, he stepped down, one, and one and
then the next, the skirt was too tight and the heels too
high, he fell.
Bunny was there in an instant and lifted him, "It's okay,
hon." He gave a smile of thanks.
There was, he realized, almost no way to get standing. The
heels were too high, the corset to stiff and long. He'd
lost that graceful moment long since, but he didn't want to
appear the fool. Although he realized that he already did.
A blurring thought went by. But everyone here always has.
They've been disgraced, insulted, humiliated. All of them.
But I wasn't here to see that. He then thought, they are
laughing at me, because they have too?
He tottered down, focusing on his shoes, climbed the stage.
Mistress Magenta strutted from the dais and presented him
with a necklet. Four ropes of gold met in back by couplets
and in front, to a badge. It was square and stenciled and
heavy. It said:
Slut Joan
Useless
Formally known as John Phillips
She clasped it about him. She locked it. His eyes followed
as She put the key under her PVC covered breast. She
followed his eyes and smirked.
"Kneel."
He knelt.
She held her hand out. "Kiss my hand."
Shaking, he kissed the middle knuckle of her leather glove.
"Kiss my boot."
He bent and kissed her boot.
She kicked him. He fell. She kicked him again. And again.
She didn't say anything, but her eyes said it all. Sissy
poison. And she kept kicking with the needle nose heels,
until Goddess Chanazine said, "Stop. Joansissy has gotten
her punishment enough from you, Mistress Magenta."
For the first time, he was glad of the protection of his
corset.
Bunny and Pink helped him along through the endless cement
corridors to their dorm, Mistress Satin walking behind. The
clan was together on this. That was felt, but they didn't
say anything. They couldn't. But as they dragged him back,
he could feel it, sympathy, remorse even, maybe.
Ms Purple said, "If I were an idiot, I would be you, or
maybe a pine cone."
This cracked him up and he tried to laugh, but it hurt. He
was sure that one of his ribs was broken.
By the end, they were dragging him: He couldn't handle his
heels. Mistress Satin opened the entry and they pulled him
in and let him down on the couch.
Mistress Satin had been grimacing and frowning and even
grinding her lovely teeth. Now She said, "What the hell was
that! IF you are a fucking masochist! I can masochate you.
Fool You! How dare you? You bring trouble to my clan!"
His breasts were on fire. They tingled, the weights of his
molars pulling them just close to the edges of his
plasticize bra. They would touch and send shivers back to
him. "Useless is sorry, Mistress Satin. Joan sissy will
really, really be good now. Useless promises."
This time, John Phillips knew, he meant it. No more
fighting. No more resisting. He would obey. Anything anyone
told him.
He remembered now, once, way back when he was fourteen and
on the seashore at Seaside watching waves. He and his best
friend, Beau Johnson, had waded into the cold Pacific
water. The wind had been blowing, the waves high. But the
sand had been shallow and neither of them had expected the
wave that took John away into the deep cold waters. Beau,
now the vice president of their business, had been lucky
and fought his way out of the water, while the tide took
John away. Beau had screamed, wildly pointing south: Don't
fight the tide, let it take you into the shore. At first,
John had tried to swim to shore but the rip tide kept
pulling him back. Then he heard what Beau said and, cold as
he was, let the waters push him. They dragged him away from
the shore, as he was getting colder. Beau was screaming
himself hoarse: The current will bring you in! Don't fight
the tide!
The waves had crashed him at first, tossing him and burying
him under frigid water, but further out, they lessened. He
felt himself getting cold and numb and alternately treaded
water or flipped on his back and drifted south. He could
here Beau screaming at him: Don't fight it. Then the waves
grew strange and the current changed and started throwing
at the shore, each wave higher than the last; six feet,
eight feet, ten. And then he was thrown onto the shore with
a thud. Beau dragged him out of the rip, onto the windswept
sand, and gave him mouth to mouth resuscitation. He had
sputtered water from his lungs. Others there had toweled
him and warmed him until he got to the hospital and was
treated for hypothermia. That was along time ago, but it
felt clear now.
Thinking now, with his eyes wide open to Mistress Satin, it
was all deja vu. The wave had been an accident of nature.
This betrayal from Marie; this was a freak of nature, and
if he rode the tide, he might make it home. But it would be
a cold journey.
And now, John Phillips put all of this in the back of his
head, there to be saved. "Useless promises." He said again.
He rolled out, painfully, from the couch to kiss Mistress
Satin's shoes. He meant it. He kissed them and licked them.
The clan, all of them had gathered, touched him, a hand
here, a kiss on his back there, he felt their support. He
cried again. But this time, they were good tears.
Mistress Satin said, "You learn slow, useless, but
fortunately, you do learn. I believe you." She caressed his
wig.
The locked door that allowed entrance to the clan living
area of Mistress Satin clicked and the door opened.
The lights in the dorm had been left dim, the stereo
playing soft love songs from the eighties. Ms Purple had,
as always, lit a stick of incense. It had felt comfortable,
even to Joan, sad as she was. Now hazed, by the stark bulb
hanging over the cement hall behind her, stood Mandy.
Joan and everybody else looked. It was impossible not too.
She was an angel in white: Her five inch heels with double
straps were white; the stockings were white and shimmery;
her dress was darted, torn, revealing and thin white
shimmering gossamer. Her silver g-string bulged underneath.
A locket, heart shaped, was sewn in just where the tip of
her cock headed. Her gloves, shoulder length were webbed
and her tan shown through it. The bra was an undercup and
her breasts stood out, pert and small, with piercings on
both. Her black hair had been died bleach blond. The made
up was minimal, but for the eyes, dragon eyes, arching and
black to reach back beyond her ears; the eyeliner was blue
and heavy.
"Mistress Satin, may I enter your clan?"
"You are welcome, if you promise not to disrupt security,
Mistress Mandy." It sounded scripted to his ears.
"If is an only once. And my apologies. I am here to take
charge of Useless."
"I know," said Mistress Satin. She stepped back. They all
did, leaving him alone.
Mandy strode through. She looked majestic. She talked
majestic. She wore a perfume of musk; it was scintillating.
She was so unlike what she had been only a week ago. But
she had not come then, while John had. Sissypoison.
"I am come to take you under my tutorage," She said,
raising his chin. "Now, you shall learn to be truly sissy.
I am come to teach you."
It sounded ponderous to him, as if She had got to much
pride from this sort of promotion, but he was meek mooded,
and nodded. His first mind mimicked it. 'Come to teach you,
Christ I am.' The second mind knew and obeyed. "Yes,
Mistress Mandy, thank you. Useless is lost."
"I know," Mandy pointed a finger to the room that useless
and baby sissy had shared so long ago. She looked at
Mistress Satin. "It is set up?"
Mistress Satin was all courtesies. Something had happened,
news, information John Phillips was not a participant of.
"It is set up for you, Mistress Mandy."
Mandy strode off, turned, said, "Come to your roost,
Useless."
He followed on his knees.
The room had been changed. Where before the walls had been
hospital white, now they were lavender and had draped
combing net around. The lights were pink hued and cast a
feminine aura. The bed and sheets, once austere, and
plastic bound for baby sissy, were flounced and fluffy.
Thick rugs covered most of the floor. An empty space of
tile was to both left and right. A table and two chairs
were set to the right. A candle burned romantic. Under the
smell of lilac, John Phillips could detect the faint scent
of ammonia, from baby sissies shit underwear. What happened
to her, he almost thought.
Over in the corner, was a barred cage, five feet long and
two feet square.
John Phillips crawled into the room, interested, awed.
"Nurse, I have some wine cooled. Bring it please, two
glasses."
The plug was driving him nuts. He wanted to push it out,
but the ribs kept it in. His loins hurt.
Nurse was there in an instant, setting two wine glasses.
She went to baby sissy's toybox and took a pack of smokes,
two lighters and placed them on the table.
Mandy sat down. "Come, sit here. Let's smoke and drink for
a bit, hon."
He looked at her, blinked, kneeling and scampered over. He
hoisted himself, not very elegantly onto the chair and sat.
Fearful.
Nurse took one last look at them, and smiled. Love, she
thought, and romance. Two beautiful people sitting together
at a table. She closed the door. It clicked once, then
twice.
"Smoke?" Mandy said, proffering the pack.
John Phillips, shaking, took one.
"Light?" Mandy flicked an elegant lighter, burnished with
mahogany.
He leant over to light it, hungry for nicotine.
She hit him on his head. "I think not. A lady uses an
extender." She took his cigarette and fitted to a long
shellacked tube. "This will work, useless."
It did. And he drank it in. The smoke, the wine, the
incense. His feet hurt, but this was kind.
This was okay.
"UselessJoan, we need to set up the rules."
"Y-yes," he said, timidly, humbling. Thinking of what he
had just seen transgress between Mandy and Mistress Satin,
he added quickly, "whatever y-you think is best, Mistress
Mandy."
"Good, little Joan, that's better. Whatever I think is
best," Mandy said, and smiled. "Whatever I think is best,"
she repeated and looked him the eye, and slapped him. He
nudged to smack Mistress Mandy back, just a nudge, but
stopped, his face stinging.
"I saw that," Mistress Mandy said, calmly. "You almost hit
back, but you didn't." Gawd, she looked angelic, John
Phillips thought.
Mandy appraised him. "That was good. Sissies don't hit
back. They get hit, and they must learn to like it." She
motioned at the wine, his cigarette that he was still
holding. "Relax."
His hands were shaking so bad. He sipped the wine, sucked
on the cigarette filter. He felt himself pee a little. He
could feel it go to his ass bladder. He looked at her white
gloved hand, afraid.
Mandy sipped her wine, relaxed back, drew on her cigarette
? it didn't have a long filter. "This is how it is, Joan. I
will tell you the truth of all that I know and all that I
have been told and I will also tell you what I have to do,
and what you have to do. Do you understand?"
Her voice, so calming, made him look up, hopeful. She
slapped him. He took it.
He said, "Thank You Mistress Mandy."
"Look at the hand, joan. Just look at my white glove and
kiss my nails."
"Yes, Mistress Mandy."
She leaned back, moving her hand to light another
cigarette. His eyes followed the hand only, noticing, but
not looking at, the beauty of her. How did she get so
beautiful? He thought.
"Relax, now, hon. We haven't really started."
He couldn't. His shoulders were hunched, his feet were
killing him, the corset and plug and the enema bag inside
him. It was all so sissifying. So permanently... there. It
felt queer being seated at this table. Smoking, drinking a
glass of, rather, now that he thought about it, very good
wine. Dressed, underground, surrounded by sissies. All of
it. All of it. "I will try, Mistress Mandy."
Mandy's hand reached out quick as lightning to slap him yet
again, but this time She caressed his cheek, softly.
"There, there. It's been a tough time for you. I know. I've
been briefed, saw your videos. Everyone has videos here."
She smiled kindly.
"You have free time now, Joan, so drink up, smoke up. We
have another 22 minutes before I have to start on you. Like
I said, relax. You have time."
He didn't know what to make of this. Weird getting weirder.
But he dared. "Mistress Mandy, may I ask if I may have
another smoke?"
She smiled her dazzling smile. She removed the old butt,
and inserted a new one into the filter. She placed it in
his mouth. She lit it, as he puffed, and then poured him
some wine. Outside, a party had started and disco music was
playing loudly. He could hear Bunny miming badly out of
tune.
"Thank you, Mistress Mandy."
"You are welcome. I will see to your needs."
"Um, Mistress Mandy, You said..." He let it drift off... He
didn't want to get too forward.
"Yes. I did. Sit back. There is a tale or two to tell
here," Mandy smiled, gleaming white teeth. "I paid to be
here. I wanted to be sissy. I tried so hard. I didn't come,
I did everything perfect. I convinced my wife that this
would save our marriage. I was even sent away for not being
fem enough. That was hell. And now that I'm admitted, they
take that away and I have to dom you."
What?
She continued, not seeing his eyes, looking up at the
ceiling, drinking her wine. "You have been so screwed. Here
is what I know. You and Marie were wealthy. You didn't
really please her. Your marriage had become dull."
He knew this, but didn't like Mistress Mandy telling him
that, but he said nothing.
"Your great aunt, Josephine Summers, or Southwick or
something, I don't remember, died two weeks ago. She left
you a lot of money."
He didn't know this. John Phillips had met her once when he
was four, and she was an old cranky crone then, but still.
How come he didn't know this?
"Apparently, you were her favorite clucker, back then when
you were a kid. Marie, your wife, got afraid. That much
money, could make you maybe leave her. Your marriage was
going rocky."
He looked at Mandy. She nodded. "According to the file,
your sex life was dead."
He couldn't say anything. But he thought, her expectations
were so high, and she never ever wanted to dress up, and
and, and...
"Seven hundred and eighty million dollars is a lot of
money."
He blinked. He blinked again. He thought, we were fine,
bored, but fine. Old but fine. He sat up, straight, eyes
glaring at Mandy. "SEVEN HUNDRED PLUS MILLION DOLLARS!!!"
Mandy smacked him, hard this time. It didn't matter. This
time.
"I am sent here because Marie, my fucking Wife, wants all-"
Flash. Mandy slapped him. Hard. Again. "Everyone here knows
it now."
"Curtsey, Mistress Marie, slut apologizes," the words came
easy to him now. "Thank you for telling me. Joan sissy
never knew." He thought, tears streaming. "Now it makes
sense. Now I understand..."
Slap!
"Joan, no first person references, hon. It's not allowed."
John Phillips felt the sting, and let it sink in. He looked
down. At Mistress Mandy's glove, pretty and white and
shining satin. But his eyes heated. "Joan understands. Her
wife is trying to get him committed to an asylum. That's
why there is a party next week. M... Joan's birthday
party..." He trailed off.
"I think so, but there is more."
"May I ask what, Mistress Mandy?"
"I have to train you to be sissy. It's been threatened upon
me. If I don't, I might have to go to the dungeons. So I've
been told."
Mandy leaned over and whispered, through a cupped hand. "I
will help you as best I can. But you are slut and sissy and
will do as I say. Cough if you understand."
John Phillips coughed.
"You will suck me off every night. You will sleep with my
cock in your mouth. I will come on the floor and you will
drink sissy juice."
John Phillips agreed, smiling. The cameras were there.
Mandy leaned back. "Do you know why your back molars were
removed?"
He shook his head.
"Better cheek bone structure. Sissies need this. The pout
is better, the look is better. Man faces, to quote Madam
Magenta, are just to fat."
Mandy clicked over, knowing. She slapped him hard. She
pushed him back on the couch. "You will suck my cock now,
you sissy slut." She said it loud. "Let's look at what
happened to baby sissy. Now."
Mandy clicked a channel and then another, and there was
baby sissy.
She was mucking out a horse stall, dressed in satin, but it
was all weird. There was something wrong. And then John
Phillips saw the why. Baby had had her left breast
enlarged, huge. 42dsd. It sagged and pulled her down. She
had no right breast. They had done a lopsided breast
implant. Mistress Grey, he thought.
He almost screamed. Where am I? Who did this to me!? To
Baby, to anyone.
"That's how it is, here, joan sissy. Get used to it, and
don't trip up." Mandy smiled sadly, "unless you don't
care."
And John Phillips pretended a tear and began to plan. This
will not stand.
Mandy spread her legs. She rolled up her angelic white
dress, all darted and torn, sexy. She lowered her panties.
Her cock, small, but beautiful, tattooed, and pierced rose
up before him.
He sent her a kiss by eyes and lowered himself, to sucking.
And inside, he was a smelter of emotion. Hate, bob, suck,
love, revenge, hate, bob suck. And over and over again. And
when Mandy came into his mouth, he was glad, it would give
him time to think.
And still his breasts burned. And he knew he was so very
trapped.
Kierra
- 05.02.2022
- 7
- 0
