Intro to Sissies XI
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Intro To Sissies XXIV: Sissy's End free porn video
Intro to Sissies XXIV: Sissy's End
"Drink all of your breakfast, useless. You know you need your juice."
Mandy had up ended the gallon jug of come juice and force fed it to
Joan, and Joan was sucking it down as fast as she could. She hadn't
really eaten in days, just a little come here and a lot of come there.
Yesterday, Mandy had completely forgotten to give her her come juice,
and last nights alcohol had hit her hard; her head hurt now.
Joan was on her back, in reverse sissy position, ankles crossed, knees
tucked, arms behind her head, bobbing on the cock shaped straw, sucking
deeply, savoring her juice. They were in the center of the living room
and Joan didn't even feel the slightest bit of embarrassment. Everyone
knew that her only food was come juice. John Phillips had changed.
It was Saturday afternoon. The clan had overslept, but it was okay,
because it was Saturday. Gurls day off.
They had untwined from each other one by one, staggering this way and
that, sleepy, satisfied, perfumed or smelly, tired and happy. Smiling.
It had been gurls night out. To a large extent, it was what they lived
for.
Now the smell of bacon wafted through the clan's apartment while nurse
and Miss Purple prepared breakfast for lunch. The others moved back and
forth. Pink watched CNN on the wide screen TV. Mistress Satin sat
bleary eyed on the sofa, sipping a glass of chardonnay, watching the
total sissification of John Phillips.
She lit a smoke. She had had far too many last night and she coughed.
Today will not be fair, she thought. But at least it will be over. Or
begun.
Joan felt himself getting full, but still she sucked, until finally the
bottle was empty.
"Good gurl," Mandy exclaimed and knelt to give her Joan a kiss.
Joan felt pleased with herself. I did it. I sucked my whole bottle of
sissy juice. Even with my corset on. She also felt a bit nauseous. I
wasn't that hungry. I am thinking strange. The constantness of
sissification was beginning to grind on her.
Mistress Satin shook herself and stood up. "Clan!"
Movement stopped. It was rare for Mistress Satin to address them as a
unit. Slowly the sissies gathered into a semi circle around her.
"Once you come in, you never go out, unless you go out forever."
They nodded.
"Today is different," Mistress Satin felt so weary. Betrayal. But she
had to do it. She saw flaws in the plan and prayed that it would be
noticed by someone. "Useless Joan is being let go."
The clan of sissies gasped. One of them said, no way!
"Way, magenta. Way. It's been four weeks and Joan is going "outside" to
visit his wife. A hopeful reunion, despite everything that has
elapsed."
Joan rolled to his knees. "Really, Mistress Satin?"
"Really," Mistress Satin said, eyeing Joan. "Tonight you see your
wife."
"In like, per-, I mean face to face?"
"Yes, go shower, get beautiful. Nurse, help useless."
Someone started to clap and soon the whole clan of gurls were cheering
and Mistress Satin felt sad, but she put on a brave smile.
Joan stood, tottering on his heels, the corset crushing his full tummy
and staggered to the master bathroom with Nurse just behind him. He was
beaming. To see my wife! To go outside. I think they will let me go
home. His mind skipped the fact that he had permanent D cup breasts,
with nipple implants and molars fixed on them by golden hoops. His mind
skipped on that he was electrolocised from ever having any hair on his
body again. His mind skipped over that he was a come vase, and a sissy,
and had become an oddity. His mind focused on one thing. I am getting
out, going home, seeing my wife, my house, my life.
I want to play tennis in the sun, he thought. Beneath his thoughts
roiled a question: How high can my heels be when playing tennis?
Mandy came up to Mistress Satin and they immediately French kissed,
arms sliding about each other. Then, breaking the kiss, Mandy said, "I
don't like this. It's wrong."
"I know."
"Then, why?"
"This was written a long time ago, when John got here."
"It's going to break him."
"I know."
"Badly."
"I know."
"Do something."
"I can't." Mistress Satin swirled her eyes to mandy and glared, fury
mixed with tears, "I am not Christ you know. I can't fix everything! I
didn't with Felix, I couldn't with Jacob and I can't with John! It is
as it is."
Mandy recoiled from the venom and recognized it for what it was.
Despair. Here, in Goddess Chanazine's house, you did what you could,
fought what you could fight and let the rest fall. Into despair.
She kissed Mistress Satin and wasn't surprised to feel the need of
Mistress Satin's tongue or the tightness of her embrace.
Nurse cleansed Joan thorough, inside and out, enemas included, many
times. Soap, scrub, scrub, then soap. Eight times and three enemas.
Joan didn't mind. She was lost in expectation.
Nurse took off the harness bra, and cleaned that as well, and almost
took off Joan's cock ring and bar, but Joan was leaking so much now,
that Nurse feared she might set something off, like his coming, so she
left it on. Just the touch of her gloved hands set Joan to moaning and
shuddering. Wow! So long and with such constant sexual stimulation,
Nurse thought, I wouldn't want that pain. Not what has been, nor what
useless will get. She shuddered to herself.
"Step onto the towel and dry yourself," she said kindly. "Then close
your eyes. I'm going to make you perfect."
Joan stepped and dried, feeling the soft towel slide across his naked
body. It felt rough, not like satin, he thought, not like silk or
latex. I wish they made satin towels. Then he closed his eyes, smiling,
though the arches of his feet hurt, standing in tip toe, and his butt
clenched, needing something in it.
Nurse turned on two heat fans. She grabbed a gallon jug of Joan's sissy
juice and began to pour it over Joan's head. After a quarter of a
gallon, she set it down and slid her latex gloves over Joan's body,
sliding the cum all around Joan's body: Under Joan's arms and arm pits;
around her butt, and into her crack and inside her ass; down the
thighs, up the back, each finger, each toe, Joan's neck and bald head,
her face, eyes, nostrils. Everywhere.
Joan was shaking now and leaked some precum. He tried to get into
kneeling position. This feels so so so good. I'm wearing sissy juice,
but I let a drop go and need to get it.
"Stand at attention, useless. You can get that later."
"Yes, Ms. Nurse," Joan stuttered. I can come now, I'm so close. All I
want to do is come! His mind had shifted from his upper big brain to
his smaller more forceful brain and those nasty clouds of reason were
being forgotten. Sssluttt.
Nurse poured again, as the first layer dried from the heat fans. Again,
she smeared the sissy juice around, but it was getting a bit tacky and
sticky, so it didn't go as far. So she poured yet again. Mistress Satin
had told her to use precisely one gallon and though a little bit
dripped on the floor, that was okay, she thought. Finally the jug was
empty and Nurse fed Joan the cock shaped nipple to suck the last drops
out.
Joan was standing there on tip toe, pistoning himself into thin air,
clenching his buttocks and moaning words Nurse couldn't understand.
Joan's arms struggled and shook, wanting to touch her nipples, barely
restraining herself. She saw Joan smiling, eyes squeezed just. Just
this far from la-la land, she thought.
The come dried, making a sticky, smelly sheen over Joan's entire
person, except for the balls of her feet. It jelled into hardness.
Nurse wrapped a clear latex corset over Joan; it was very thick, double
paneled and with boning every two inches. Even loosened, it was tight.
She drew up clear satin stockings up and attached them to the latex
garters. Cake come oozed out the tight denier, and she slid that back
along his thighs and calves. Then she slipped a narrow clear latex
skirt, knee length, up Joan's body, and zipped it in front. There was a
hole in the back, an ass opening.
The stereo started up outside, and Nurse felt like she was missing out,
but on the other hand, she thought I am making the kinkiest person on
the planet. You have been changed, zombie Joan.
At the makeup table, with the bright little bulbs forming a halo, Nurse
began to paint. China white liquid, but the come absorbed it, so she
repeated and repeated, until it was glossy. Then she added gloss.
Joan was still humming in la-la land, trying to reach his breasts, but
stopping his hands just so and rubbing his corset instead.
Miss Purple strutted in and smiled. "So you are making her el foxy,
Nurse?"
Nurse shot her a glance. It said help or shut up.
Miss Purple smiled evilly, "May I do the nails?"
"Hon, that would help. So much to do, and so little time."
"It is always that way, hon. But we have time for Joan, yes?"
Nurse fixed on Joan's eye lashes with glue. These won't be coming off
anytime soon. They were long and long and half an inch long. "Yes,
there are big rocks, and little rocks, and Joan is a big rock. A
project."
Miss Purple slid on the latex gloves. They too were clear and went to
Joan's shoulders, with a strap at the top, and finger tips cut out
below. She tightened them cruelly. "Big rocks?"
Nurse dabbed some glue over Joan's come covered scalp and mixed it in.
"Big rocks. It's like... think of a jar, Miss Purple."
Miss Purple was puzzled, as she knelt doing Joan's nails. This person
is leaving us, and she isn't even here. "Okay. Big rocks in a jar."
Nurse placed the neon blue wig over Joan's shuddering body. "Sit still,
useless!"
Joan did, but kept humming and smiling. "I got a jar. And I put big
rocks in it, till I have one left and it won't fit. Is the jar full?"
Miss Purple filed, making the nails into points. The nails were four
inches long, fake, and Miss Purple was sure that useless would break
one or two. She smiled. "Of course it's full, Nurse."
The hair set, Nurse focused again on the made up come face of useless,
and applied blush, dark umber, and purple, in gentle thick strokes.
"Well, I got all this little rocks, things I want to do, like TV and
making love to you. They fit."
"I am a little rock!"
"Hon, you are my rock, but, oh never mind."
"Okay, okay, go on!" Miss Purple found and attached two huge sets of
earrings. Heavy they were, with penises up and down the chain. They
were twelve inches long.
"You're missing the point, Sandy," That was Miss Purple's real name and
Nurse, who barely remembered her own name, used it rarely. She started
to layer on the eye shadow: first green, then blue, then grey, then
purple, layer after layer. "Listen... Time is a container and you will
always fill it, okay? So, you got big rocks and medium rocks and little
rocks and sand and water, and that fills up your time."
Miss Purple painted the nails black, and then embellished them each
with a cock shaped painting. "I don't get it."
Joan hummed, and now started to squeeze his nipple. Nurse slapped that
away and got up and got the plasticene bra. Joan mewled and Nurse
tightened it deep: two notches more and locked it. She got another
gallon of come and yanking open each breast shield, poured in enough to
fill the cup. At least halfway. Now Joan's plasticene cups were
swimming with come. She fastened the neck harness tightly as well. The
breast cones leaked a bit, but not much.
Joan's eyes opened and moaned. He looked at himself in the mirror,
amazed. I am the prettiest thing in the universe. Marie will love me
and keep me safe. His eyes, with the contacts that said slut on them,
looked back at him. But do I love Marie anymore? She did this to me.
But she is getting me out of here. She just wanted to teach me a
lesson. A lecture might have worked better than making me live in hell.
She wasn't sure if an argument would work. She's afraid of fighting.
Joan continued the argument with himself as he looked at the beautiful
person in front of him with the kaleidoscope eyes.
"You only get so much time, so put in your big rocks first!" Nurse
completed. "You will always only have as much time as you have. Get her
boots."
Miss Purple reattached the chains around Joan's neck. "I still don't
get it."
"So if you fill your time with sand, you won't have room for the big
rocks," Nurse mumbled, realizing she wasn't doing much better. It
sounded inspirational on the television, but there weren't many big
rocks here. There was no room for goals here.
"Not those shoes," said Miss Purple, surprised, looking at the ballets
in the corner. "Useless can't walk in those. No one can." And she
smiled.
"Mistress Satin wants those. Be a dear and do them," Nurse focused on
the lipstick, the repairing, the colors, and adding layers of mascara.
Miss Purple smiled and got the boots. They were ballet heels, knee
high, with laces and black. She slid them up useless's toes, crushed
them in, wrapped them on, drew them up and then laced them. These will
hurt, she thought, smiling. I hate you John Phillips. I don't know why,
but I do. At the top, she cinched them tight.
Joan continued to mumble to himself, subtle and incomprehensible.
Nurse sprayed perfume all over. The scent was cloyingly sweet and
contrasted with the stink of the come sharply. "Let's present her to
Mistress Satin and Mandy, hon."
"I still don't get it," Miss Purple said finally. "I mean, fuck rocks."
Nurse rolled her eyes.
It was six in the evening when they were done and the sun had fallen,
leaving stars. But they were unseen, noticed only by the clock. Down
here, no one saw sun, or stars, or moon. Yet it was late, and time.
Joan strutted out, semi aware, dressed. Nurse and Miss Purple smiled
from their efforts, supporting her. The ballet heels had stilettos
eight inches high. Joan's feet were en point.
She tried to smile, but her feet were already painful. Nurse had
tightened the corset to excruciating tightness, and his arms felt like
they were losing circulation. He looked over to mandy. "I hurt."
Mistress Satin, drinking, looked up slowly, and widened her eyes. Mandy
rushed over and gave him a kiss. The rest of the clan looked wide eyed.
Bunny, having woke up after last nights attentions, hopped gleefully.
"Wow!" Mistress Satin rubbed her eyes. "I didn't think it was possible.
Nurse, you are incredible."
Bunny started hopping over, still wearing the springy shoes of last
night. Miss Purple glared. "Don't touch."
Mandy said, "Hurt is good, useless. Take it. Your wife will release
you."
It sounded ominous.
"I suppose it's time to go." Mistress Satin stood up. "Take my hand,
John Phillips."
Down the hall they went, with Mistress Satin carrying her charge, john
Phillips, aka, useless, aka, Joan. This time they took another
elevator, down. Then joan and Mistress Satin sidled over to another
one. And went up.
"I hurt."
Mistress Satin felt like breaking. She wanted to scream. She wanted to
hit this person that upset the routine of her clan. And she felt pity.
Instead she lied calmly, "Soon it will be done, useless."
"My heels are too high!"
"They are just right." Mistress Satin counted the seconds as they
ascended. Poor gurl. Poor poor gurl.
The doors opened.
A fresh breeze rushed in. It smelt like mown grass. Mistress Satin saw
lights and stars, and far far away, the moon. Palm trees bent with the
wind. They rustled and their sound was music to her.
In front of her, down the steps, on the lane, was a limousine. Mistress
Orange, Mistress Red and Miss Grey stood by, waiting impatiently.
Mistress Red said, "You're late."
"She stumbled."
Mistress Red glowered, but said, looking at Joan's boots, "Of course."
John Phillips felt panic. Outside. His slut eyes looked at Mistress
Satins. "Will I ever see you again?"
Mistress Satin looked at her young charge. She said nothing.
"Will you come with me?"
"I stay here. I can't go out." The air felt luscious. Free air.
Joan knelt, falling to his knees, and kissed Mistress Satin, who looked
so much like Rachel Welch, her boots. He started to kiss up her thighs.
"Now, useless," Mistress Orange demanded and came over to lift her up.
John Phillips turned away from Mistress Satin and strode, step by tiny
step, towards the limousine that would take him back home.
Authors note:
Lot's of stuff to say, if I may...
Writing is aggressive. Taking a blank page and saying something,
whatever it might be, is assertive. So, anyone writing can't quite be
that sub as they think they are. They just want to be. Assertively.
Some of this whole long drawn out tale hurts. Some of it, I did not
like writing. Yada yada. Okay, I'm lying. It's where the story went,
and I went with it. I had only a concept when I began this.
This, really, is the next to last chapter of part one. Twenty five is a
good number.
You won't like the last chapter. I don't. It's why I kept putting it
off. But like Descent/Ascent, our John Phillips, hopefully, will, in
part 2, find happiness. I hate stories with bad endings.
Forced feminism is actually like a horror story, sans the blood and
knives. This is a horror story. But again, there will be a good ending
somehow.
I wanted to write something different. I wanted to push the limits, but
if you look around, there are no limits. But I wanted to say it well.
The limits pusher's usually don't, although there are some delightful
exceptions.
I would love to name names, but I can't remember them.
Thank you for reading. I think we write for ourselves. I play the
guitar great, the piano well, and the drums, which are key, badly. I
create for me, good or bad.
It is my harmony.
And yes, I dress. More than you know.
Thank you for reading.
latexslut
Mikhaela
- 11.02.2022
- 28
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