A Sissy Bride ? The Escape free porn video

A Sissy Bride ? The Escape By Angela J. (Sissy Bride Universe created by Janice337) Patiently I pretended to accept what they deemed as my fate. I even pretended to enjoy my wedding rehearsal earlier this evening. Why wouldn't a girl enjoy her wedding rehearsal? A real girl would enjoy it. But despite looking like one, I am not a girl. I am not even a sissy. I am, or at least was, a man, a real man, a virile man. But I was trapped in this feminine fate and my only hope was to patiently look for a chance to escape. So I smiled as my parents drove me to my wedding rehearsal at the hotel where we were scheduled to get married tomorrow. As we parked our car, I saw Uncle Bob and Aunt Dana with my cousins Jane and Paul drive up. They drove in from their home city approximately three hundred miles away. I hadn't seen them since I received my sissification treatment and hoped that I would be spared the shame of having to actually talk to them in my feminine condition. Unfortunately mom called them over to us. I wanted to run and hide, but instead greeted them seemingly as a happy girl. "Is that Chris?" Paul asked pointing at me from a distance. He suddenly stopped on his tracks. "Her name is Christina?" my mom stated a little annoyed. "Who would've thought you would make such a beautiful girl?" said Aunt Dana to me as she and Uncle Bob and Jane walked closer. "Thank you." I said with a blush as she hugged me tight. "Isn't she beautiful, Bob?" she asked her husband. "She's lovely." He responded. "Give your uncle a hug and a kiss on the cheek." Outwardly I may have appeared calm, but inside I was screaming. How could I kiss a man even if it's just on the cheek? But at the same time how could I refuse? My plan to pretend to accept my fate required that I comply with my Aunt's request. Uncle Bob, the slob, as I used to call him, came closer offering his cheek for a kiss. As usual, he stunk from cigarette smoking and that alone would have made my task at hand difficult. But the knowledge that I was once a man, a virile man at that, made this task nearly impossible. I was once bigger than Uncle Bob. But thanks to DNA rewriting and hormone therapy, I now, even in my heels, had to get on my tiptoes for my lips to reach his face. I closed my eyes tight, and briefly made my lips touch his left, five o'clock shadowed cheek. When his arms suddenly encircled me into a tight hug, my body involuntarily reacted favorably to being so close to a man. To my deep embarrassment, I actually felt my nipples harden. He was my uncle, a far cry from being considered good looking, a slob of man, and yet my body was reacting to him. As much as I hated to admit it, the hypnotic conditioning and the butt plug training had their effect on me. I feared what my body would do near a handsome man. Before too long, my uncle released me from his hug. "Let me see your engagement ring?" asked Jane. I lifted my hand, meekly pointing it downward as instructed in my mannerism classes at the Institute. Jane held my hand and pulled it closer to have a look. "Wow! That's huge," Jane said excited, "Frank must be rich! I am so jealous." "Frank's dad owns a chain of hardware stores which Frank will manage once he graduates from College. His aggressive nature will insure great success." My mom said with pride. "You are such a lucky girl," Jane said as she hugged me. I hugged her back and said, "Thank you." "Aren't you going to greet Christina, Paul?" asked Aunt Dana turning to face her son. "It makes no sense, why would you want to be a girl?" Paul asked me ignoring his mother's question. "PAUL!!!" yelled his father angrily. Paul was three years younger than me and always looked up to me. I was his hero. I was his cousin who was the quarterback for a major college football team. But now, I was nothing but a sissy on her way to her wedding rehearsal to be married to a man. I looked down in shame. "Paul, apologize to your cousin for asking such a rude question, this moment!" said Uncle Bob. Paul quickly did as told but continued to keep his distance from me. Soon other close family members and family friends came to the hotel and I greeted them each with a smile, a hug and sometimes a kiss on the cheek. It was all difficult, especially when some of the men hugged me a little too tight and too long. But it was nothing compared to the vows. It took all of my self control to smile as I stood at the alter practicing my vows to my future husband. I hated him, not just because he purchased the rights to be my husband, but because he was directly responsible for my feminization. I hid my true feelings as I repeated after the preacher in my most feminine voice "I, Christina Angela Johnson, promise to love, to honor, to cherish, to obey, to serve and to satisfy Frank Arnold Peters in good times and bad, for richer or poorer till death do us part." My family and friends heard those shameful words come out of my mouth and smiled. Frank's booming voice frightened me a little as he repeated after the preacher, "I, Frank Arnold Peters, promise to love, to protect, to provide for, to direct, to secure, and to fulfill Christina Angela Johnson, in good times and bad, for richer or poorer till death do us part." Was his voice always this loud, so manly? It never frightened me before. Or had I become such a weakling? I wasn't sure. "This is the point when the best man hands you the ring and you say with this ring, do I thee wed," said the preacher to Frank. Frank actually held my hand and pretended to put a wedding ring on my finger. His hand engulfed my hand and held it firmly as he said "With this ring, do I thee wed." "At that moment, I will pronounce you husband and wife and say you may kiss the bride." The preacher said. They all applauded when Frank held me close into his arms and leaned forwards, causing me to tilt backwards. With his lips less than an inch from my lips, I panicked as I realized that I was going to be kissed on the lips by a man. I felt extremely vulnerable, as I realized that in my heels and in this titled position, I couldn't resist him. Strangely enough, my body was excited by this vulnerability. Despite my self, I felt a desire for his lips. His body pressed so close to mine caused my anus to lubricate and my nipples to harden. For the first time in a long time, I even felt my penis stir a bit. This desire disgusted me and all I could do was hold my tears from flowing from my eyes. Get it over with, I thought. But instead of kissing me, he turned his head to my side and whispered in my ears, "Tomorrow everything is for real." And with that statement, he let me go. The preacher said, "At this point, I will introduce you to the guests as Mr. and Mrs. Peters and you will turn and face them." We did as told. I couldn't believe all the smiles in the audience. They all seemed so happy to see me in a dress, with curly long blond hair, wearing makeup and acting like a sissy bride. Were they truly happy for me? Or were they pretending too? Did it matter? It didn't matter when it came to my father. I thought that he was once proud of me. I used to be a splitting image of his younger self, so confident, so virile, so strong. Just like him, I was quarterback for our University. But now, I was a sissy in his eyes. Despite his smiles, I knew that he was deeply unhappy with the turn of events. But that didn't matter either. He chose not to help me. During my first week at the Institute for Gender Reassignment, late at night when they expected us to sleep while listening to their hypnotic music, I somehow fought the drug induced need for sleep and briefly broke into their computer center. Knowing that they would be on to me quickly, I carried out my plan of e-mailing my father for help. I knew that my only chance for getting help from my father was to shock him with the reality of what they meant to do to me. Knowing that I had little to type an persuasive argument, I scanned and attached on to an e-mail a copy of the brochure, entitled "Sissy Bride: What to Expect in Your Feminization in Ten Easy Steps." It was my hope that my father would get the same shocking and chilling sensation that I got when I first saw the brochure and I hoped that this shock would prompt him to help me. The brochure read as follows: Welcome to the Institute for Gender Reassignment. This is where you will begin your first phase of your transition. We hope that you will apply yourself and learn all that is needed for you to take your place as a proper woman in your community! You may be in denial, and even feel sad or angry. Remember, you have been admitted into the Institute because you were found to lack the ability to be a "real man" and was deemed to be unfit to bear full responsibility for your life decision. Therefore you no longer have any choice, and the State has determined that this transition is in your best interest. The sooner you accept your fate, the happier you'll be. This brochure has been made available to you to dispel any uncertainty during your transition. It's our hope that the knowledge of what's to come will help ease your anxiety during this phase of your life. Many of the steps will occur concurrently with other steps and will continue through out your stay at the Institute and beyond. Step 1. Losing your body and facial hair [There was a series of close up illustrations of different body parts. One illustration showed a leg that had no hair, another showed what appeared to be a male chest without any hair, and another showed a face with no sign of mustache or beard, but a full hair on its head, thin eye brow, and long eyelashes, and another illustration showed hair in the shape of a small inverted triangle.] One of the first things you will notice is loss of body and facial hair. The gene controlling your body and facial hair will be isolated and through generic engineering, altered to permanently remove most of your body and facial hair. The remaining body and facial hair will eventually be either permanently removed or reshaped to feminine forms through electrolysis. You may feel embarrassed or depressed over your loss. To compensate for this loss, your gene that controls your hair on your head will also be altered to give you beautiful full long hair. So don't worry about the loss of your body/facial hair, instead take pride in your hair on your head. Step 2. Resizing and reshaping you Hormones and genetic alterations have been designed to start your long journey into becoming feminine. At first you will find it difficult to notice any changes to your body or face. But with time, the genetic alterations and hormone therapy will resize and reshape you. Your hands and feet will become dainty as your entire body becomes smaller and smaller until it's petite. You will become weaker until you are no longer able to do any tasks involving physical strength. Our studies have shown that a sissy adjusts better into her new life when she is made dependent on her husband. Therefore our goal is to weaken you significantly. By the time you graduate you will be weaker than at least 90% of healthy adult females. But strength and size will not be the only things that will change. You will also begin to notice a rounding and softening of your features and small growth in your breasts and rear end. [Immediately following the text, there were three pictures. The picture in the right was of a normal looking nude young man. Next was a picture of the same nude man looking very effeminate, among other things, he was smaller, he lacked any body hair, his hair on his head was longer and he had tiny bumps on his chest. The last picture was of what appeared to be a nude young woman that resembled the guy in the first two pictures. She looked like an average small chested woman in every way except for the tiny penis between her legs. Step 3. Revealing your feminine self Your days of pretending to be a real man will soon be over. It's time to start bringing out your true feminine self. Unfortunately, many sissies are reluctant to admit the truth and try to continue with their pretence. The Institute is here to provide you with assistance as you go through this important phase. Through out your stay at the Institute, you will receive hypnotic suggestions, genetic rewriting, and behavior adjustment classes that will, in time, no longer allow you to act "male." Any traits that are considered "male" will be systemically removed. By the time you graduate from the Institute, you will not be able to feign courage, aggression, or independence. Your actions and mannerism will become feminine and submissive. Like it or not, you will learn obedience and servitude. This behavior improvement will insure your cooperation with the rest of your education. You will cry allot throughout your transition. Take solace in knowing that your tears are just another confirmation that your transition is on track. [Next to the text, there was a picture of what appeared to be a young woman kneeling with her head bowed. Tears were following down her face.] Step 4. Beautifying your self [There was a drawing of what appeared to be a young woman wearing a dress sitting in front of vanity. She was putting on lipstick, even though she already appears to fully made-up. Her long curly blond hair flowed down her shoulders.] You will learn during our classes and labs about feminine fashion, accessories, makeup, hair styling and those beautiful shoes. But more than that, hypnotic suggestions, will condition to you want to be beautiful. Your self worth will be directly linked to what others, especially males, think about your appearance. You will crave positive attention. By the time you leave the Institute, you will have intimate knowledge and ability when it comes to feminine styles and will find it difficult to not "fix your self" at least every hour to make sure you look your best. Step 5. Re-educating your mind, becoming a bimbo Sissies don't need to be geniuses. In fact, studies have shown that a sissy is more likely to succeed in life if she is not too bright. We will re-educate your mind to forget any education that is deemed inappropriate for your new life. Don't worry you will know enough to please your husband and to perform your feminine activities. But you will forget other unnecessary knowledge. You will forget subjects like biology, chemistry, physics and other sciences, and politics, history, and other social sciences, economics, accounting, business management, and other business related subjects, and any thing beyond simple mathematics. You will not understand "complex" jokes. You will be cute in your ignorance. If there is anything that you need to know your husband will explain it to you. Step 6. Learning feminine arts and crafts The arts and crafts thought in our classes are designed to help you handle things in a feminine manner and therefore see things from the feminine perspective. You will be taught to only exhibit feminine mannerisms during these activities. You will play dress up and with dolls. You will learn to handle delicate fabric, paint landscapes and flowers, and stretch your body as you learn ballet. You will read love poems in a feminine voice and write them using feminine handwriting. You will learn to sing soprano as you play piano. You will act out various feminine roles. As you sleep at night, the activities that you learned will be implanted into your subconscious to make sure your lessons are permanently learned. Step 7. Learning feminine work [There is a picture of what appeared to be a young woman vacantly smiling as she washed dishes. She's wearing a frilly apron that has the words "Best Homemaker."] Our goal is to make you into a productive member of our society. You will never have a career but that doesn't mean you will not work. You will learn to accept "woman's work," as your work. Among other things you will become an excellent cook, an immaculate homemaker, an excellent decorator and a loving mother. Hypnotic conditioning will insure that you will not be able to sleep well until, your house is clean and beautiful and your family is well fed. You will be a great housewife! Step 8 Pleasing a man Your most important work is pleasuring your husband. You will learn to stop doing things that displease men and learn to do things that please men. You will especially learn to physically please your man. You will be trained to give excellent messages. You will become familiar with different hand-job techniques. Thanks to the Institute's hypnotic suggestions, you will find your self absent mindedly stroking a banana, a cucumber, or another long object, as you practice your techniques. Eventually you will even practice the art of fellatio on life like dildos. Our latest models even ejaculate semen substitute to teach you to swallow. [Follows an illustration of what appears to be a young woman sucking on a large realistic dildo. Her mouth is stretched to the limits. A cut away illustration of her inner mouth and throat shows that she has crammed most of the dildo in her mouth and throat.] Step 9. Accepting intercourse [An illustration of a strange machine is shown. The machine is attached to a seat with a hole in the middle. Inside the hole is a dildo. The various pumps and chains of the machine give it no doubt that the machine is designed to pump the dildo in and out of a sissy's ass.] Your body will be trained to accept a large penis. Initially, you will insert a small butt plug into your anus. As time goes on, your butt plug will be replaced by slightly larger one. Periodically you will also sit on the dildo machine designed to simulate intercourse. Through genetic engineering, your anus will start to self lubricate in anticipation of an intercourse. Hypnosis will also be used to insure your body reacts correctly to being close to a man. Step 10 Blossoming of your body Even after you leave the Institute, your body will continue to develop. Your features will continue to become more feminine. Your breasts will continue to grow. How big? Eventually your natural size will probably be similar to your mother's size. But, if your husband wishes, our genetic engineers can make your breasts larger and more sensitive to his touch. Of course, we can also enhance other parts of your body. In addition, your penis will continue to shrink until it disappears all together. Due to the latest advancements in genetic manipulation you will grow a fully functioning vagina. Yes, you will be able to get pregnant and give birth! [An illustration of a nude girl sitting on a chair with her legs spread apart is shown. She is looking down at her crotch as if examining herself. A cut away picture also shows a close up of her pussy.] As the guards pulled me away, I managed to type the word, "help" on the e-mail and send it to my father. Whether my father received the e- mail or not I am not sure. What I know is that my father never came to help. Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months, as my hope for my father's rescue and my spirits faded and the awful things in the brochure slowly came true for me. When I came back from the Institute for Gender Reassignment last month, I again pleaded for his help. I explained that I was framed and argued that I was a real man. But all he did was to bend me over his knees and spank me until I tearfully admitted that I was sissy. Before the "treatment," I would have allowed my father to kill me before crying or admitting to being a sissy. But that was before the hypnotic conditioning, the DNA rewriting, and hormone therapy. I was not the same man. My body was weaker with a lower threshold for pain but more importantly my courage was gone. It would have been easy to hate my father. But what good would that do? Like any good citizen, he was obeying the law. The Commission on Gender Justice had determined that I was a sissy, unfit to bear "full responsibility" for my life decisions and that was enough for my father. It took several spankings, but I eventually learned that arguing would get me nowhere with my father. Unlike my father, my mom seemed to truly enjoy my misfortune. She took her role in introducing me to the feminine life very seriously. She spent countless hours with me shopping, cooking, decorating, beautifying or doing any other number of girlish activities. I hated it. No matter how many times I tried to explain to my mom that I had learned all that stuff at the Institute, she would not hear of it. She wanted to personally teach me the ropes. And if she felt that I was not paying attention, she would calmly warn me that my father would be upset by my lack of cooperation. Fearing another spanking from my father, I quickly acted like the feminine activities were the most interesting things in the World. My only hope was to pretend to accept to my fate and hope for a chance to escape. So I went along with her. My mom and I spent allot of time together getting ready for the wedding. We started out by picking out my wedding dress. It was so embarrassing trying on wedding dresses at the bridal shop. They made me undress until I was only wearing panties and bra and led me on to a small platform. I felt like a sissy on display for everyone to see. I had distinct feeling that they all knew that I wasn't a real girl but a mere sissy. Could they somehow see my penis, hidden inside a gaff? No probably not. Was my body not developed enough? My body was definitely girlish. It was soft and feminine but not yet womanly. My boobs were rather small and my hip was just slightly wider than my waist. But allot of girls weren't well endowed. "With her small breasts, it's probably best to go with a dress that will draw everyone's eyes onto another part of her body," a salesgirl said. "A long train or a corset to tighten her waist would do the job." I tried my best to keep my sissy fate a secret by acting like a real girl about to get married. "What do you think of the dress you have on, honey?" my mom asked. "It's just lovely. I feel so beautiful in it," I answered hoping that my mom would pick it and end my torment. "What do you like about it?" Trying to guess what would be the best response, I said, "It's so beautiful, I feel like a princess in it." "Do you think Frank will like it?" How could I answer this question? I hesitated. "I am sure he will love her in it," said one of the sales girls. "Let's try one with a larger train, a strapless," my mom ordered and the sales girls helped me to take off the dress I had on and went back to the storage room to retrieve my next dress. Perhaps I was just paranoid, but I swear that I heard whispers and giggles from the storage room. I was convinced that they knew; somehow they knew I wasn't a real girl. After several hours of trying on dresses, my mom finally picked out a white strapless satin dress with encrusted crystal beading, pearl buttons on back bodice, princess line satin skirt with apron-back and crystal beaded satin border and a long cathedral train for me. But my humiliation did not end there. She took me to a beauty salon and made me get a perm and color my hair blond. After that I looked like a total bimbo. Then, we went to several stores to find the perfect wedding night negligee. "Frank will be so horny when he sees you in that one," my mom said. We spent more days getting ready; we picked out invitations, flowers, decorations, food for the reception, and talked to a camera crew about pictures and hired a band. And yet there were more things to do. It never seemed to end. And then all of a sudden the end was just a day away. I was kept so busy that I didn't have an opportunity for escape. At least that's what I told myself. In truth, I probably had opportunities. But I lacked the courage to take a risk, always telling myself that a better opportunity would come. But my time was running out. The rehearsal was just practice but tomorrow they would force me to marry Frank for real. So I cupped the sleeping pills that my mom gave me and pretended to swallow them. When she thought I was asleep, she sneaked out of my room to entertain our guests downstairs. I knew that I only had this one last chance. I didn't have much time. Someone might check on me soon. No time to even change out of my flowing nightgown. I quickly moved to my window and opened it and looked at the large tree by my window. Even as a young boy, I easily jumped onto the tree from my window and climbed down to sneak out of the house. But now, in my feminine condition, I was afraid. Could I really do this? Was I physically strong enough to jump onto the tree and climb down? What if I get caught? The consequences of failure at an escape attempt were too horrible to even consider. Somehow I mustered all the courage left in my now small body and made the jump grasping the tree with my arms and legs. There was no turning back now, but I was so scared that I just couldn't force my self to climb down. I was stuck. I don't how long I stayed up there on the tree, holding it tight, with both my arms and legs as if my life depended on it but it seemed like an eternity. Suddenly I could hold on no longer and fell. Luckily, I landed on my semi-plump behind, and didn't suffer any injuries, great pain, yes but no injuries. I knew from experience of getting spanked and having received anal training with dildoes, that this pain would get worse before getting better. But I had no time to dwell in it. I had to go quickly to the only person that might possibly help me. At one time, I thought I had lots of friends who would help me if I got into trouble. But now, I knew that my only hope for an ally was Jessica, my girlfriend. Hoping that none of my neighbors were up this late at night, I quickly walked towards Jessica's apartment. Every noise imagined or real scared me. But I didn't even check to verify where the noises were coming from, I just walked ignoring everything. After what seemed like forever, I finally reached Jessica's apartment and knocked on the door. "Can I help you, Miss?" asked Jessica obviously looking through her peep hole. "Jessica, it's me," I said, "Chris Johnson." "Chris?" she said, "Oh my God! Is that really you?" "Please Jessica, I need your help," I said as quietly as possible fearing unwanted attention from her neighbors, "I don't have any where else to go, please let me in." "I don't want any trouble," she said without opening her door. "Please, Jessica," I pleaded again, "If you ever loved me, please let me in." I was relieved when she opened her door. Before she could change her mind, I quickly stepped in. "Thank you Jessica," I said and quickly closed the door behind us. "I need your help to escape. Otherwise they are going to turn me into a girl and make me ?" "Chris, I am sorry to say this, but I think you are too late. From the looks of you, I think you are already a girl," she said. Her words, the sad look in her face momentarily made the last remaining sense of hope fade from my body. Was I really too late? No I wasn't too late. I was still a man where it counted. I believed; I had to believe that everything else could be reversed. One thing was clear I had to prove it to her. At all costs I had to prove to her that I was a man. There was only one thing male about me left. "I am still a man," I said, "and I will prove it to you." With that statement, I raised my nightgown over my head, removed my panties and gaff. While only wearing my bra, I showed her my penis. "It's so tiny," she said in amazement as she held my penis between her thumb and fourth finger. "It used to be so big. You have no balls." she said. Her touch was clinical. She was examining me like a doctor and not a lover. I could sense that she was no longer turned on by my body. But worst yet, I felt no reaction to her touch or her closeness. Ashamed by the lack of reaction in my body, I quickly stepped away from her touch. Her touch used to create such a stir in my body, especially in my penis. But now there was nothing. I remember when I first met her, in my freshman year of college. She was so beautiful. I couldn't get enough of her. I made love to her all the time. I was in heaven then. How things changed so much. It was just about two years ago when I was the starting quarterback of my University. I was very popular, virile man, with a girlfriend. My life seemed so perfect. It was about the same time when the Congress debated the "Virile Male Act." I remember reading an article about it and agreeing with it. It made sense to me. Some guys just weren't real men and deserved to be sissies and sissies of course were only good for few things like, sex, child bearing and raising, cleaning and cooking and other similar sort of things. I never dreamed that anyone would use the Act against me. But only after a year later, I learned first hand, that the Draconian process imposed at the pre-screening interview conducted by the Commission on Gender Justice is stacked against the accused sissy from the start. Due to the virtual absolute power and immunity of its misguided Commissioners, an alleged sissy is intimidated and harassed and is given no chance to successfully fight the charge. But I was not going to just give up. I was strong and I meant to fight them. So I denied all the charges and hoped that my friends would come to testify on my behalf at the prescreening interview. It's amazing how quickly you lose your friends when you are accused of being a sissy. No one wants to be identified as a sissy sympathizer. Very few people came to my prescreening interview. My parents, Frank and Joe from my football team and my girlfriend Jessica were the only ones that came. We were kept in a waiting room while one by one, the persons that showed up was called to face the Commission. I hoped that my friends and family would convince the Commission that the complaint filed against me was without justification and my testimony would not even be required. Finally after everyone else spoke, I was ordered to the interview room. The room was huge with a small chair in the middle of the room facing a large raised Judge's bench with three Commissioners. "Please be seated," stated the middle Commissioner into a microphone. "and wait until we are ready for your interview." I sat patiently waiting for the Commissioners to begin and after several minutes the middle Commissioner spoke again. "State your full name." "My name is Christopher Andrew Johnson," I responded "You have been accused of being a sissy. It is alleged that you are a person of questionable or weak character and that you are unfit to bear "full responsibility" for your life decisions. How do you plea to this charge?" The middle Commissioner asked. "I deny it." I said. "Why do you have stories from Fictionmania downloaded into your computer?" asked the Commissioner to my right. "I don't know what Fictionmania is," I answered honestly. "But I never downloaded any stories onto my computer. "You are hurting your credibility by denying your knowledge of the transgender stories in your computer. Frank Peters has already testified that he found the stories on your computer and our officers have verified this when they confiscated it," said the Commissioner on my right. "What?" I said, "That can't be right." Then I remembered that Frank had borrowed my computer for a weekend. Frank must have downloaded the stories. But why? Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. Frank played quarterback in high school and must have wanted to be quarterback again. When our second string and third string quarterbacks got hurt in practice recently, Coach appointed him as the emergency backup quarterback. That meant I was the only one in the way of him getting a shot at being quarterback for our team. "It's all lies," I pleaded, "Frank downloaded the stories to frame me. He is trying to steal my starting quarterback position." "Don't lie to us. We checked to make sure Frank Peters has no ulterior motives. He is listed as tight end for your team and not as a quarterback. Therefore he can't possibly steal your position" The Commissioner to my right challenged. "Yes," I said "but?" I wanted to explain that he was the emergency backup. "Silence, we have heard enough lies from you dealing with this subject." The middle commissioner stated. "You will not say another word unless we ask you a question." "But Frank is the emergen?" before I could finish my statement, two bailiffs suddenly grabbed me and put a gag in my mouth. I pushed them away and was about to take the gag out when a third bailiff shocked me with an electric gun. While I was temporarily immobilized, the bailiffs tied me to the chair. "You will show more respect to the Commission on Gender Justice." The commissioner in the middle stated. "I, Commissioner Sanders, move to terminate any further interview of the accused." The Commissioner to my right stated. "Any objections?" asked the Commissioner in the middle. "What are the grounds?" asked the Commissioner to my left. "Credibility," answered the Commissioner to my right. "It's clear that the accused has propensity for lying and therefore any testimony from the accused in unreliable." "Any objections?" repeated the Commissioner in the middle. The other two commissioners said nothing. "Hearing none, motion carries." The middle Commissioner stated. The Commissioner on the right stated "We have testimony from Mr. Frank Peters that he has found Fictionmania stories in the defendant's computer. We have further testimony from Mr. Joe Givens that he noticed the defendant staring at him and other naked males in the locker room." That's not true I wanted to yell. Our locker room is rather small and with approximately 100 guys dressing and undressing, it's unavoidable, at times, to face someone who is partially nude. But I never stared at anyone in the locker room. I just wasn't interested in guys. "Mr. Anthony Johnson, the defendant's father testified that he felt that the defendant was hesitant several times in the football field and that resulted in bad outcomes for his team," continued the Commissioner to my right. I couldn't believe my ears. Did my father actually testify against me? "Mrs. Catherine Johnson, the defendant's mother testified that her son enjoyed poetry," continued the commissioner to my right. "All this add up to one conclusion. The Defendant is a sissy." The Commissioner to my left spoke next. "But Ms. Jessica Albright testified that the Defendant was a good boyfriend and that he was virile man in bed." At least my girlfriend came to my defense. "That girl was obviously fooled by the defendant's physical prowess," stated the Commissioner to my right; "but a real man is not just physically male; he must also demonstrate that he is mentally fit to be a man. The defendant has failed to meet this requirement." The Commissioners whispered among themselves briefly and then the middle commissioner asked the bailiff to bring everyone into the interview room. Once my parents, Frank, Joe and Jessica were in the room, the middle commissioner announced that I was found to be a sissy by a unanimous decision. "By the power vested in and in accordance of the Virility Law, the Commission on Gender Justice has unanimously found by a preponderance of evidence that Christopher Andrew Johnson is unfit to marry and reproduce as a male, and is also unfit to bear full responsibility for his life decision. In addition, he has shown questionable and weak character. Therefore he is hereby sentenced to receive proper treatment from the Institute for Gender Reassignment and thereafter; be made available to be sold into marriage to a virile male of suitable character. She is from hence forth to be referred to only in female terms and she is to be known only as "Christina Angela Johnson" or other suitable feminine name as her parents direct in writing. The Commission on Gender Justice's decision is final. Because of that decision, I was dropped out of College in my Senior year and enrolled, screaming and kicking, at the Institute for Gender Reassignment. My mom explained to me, "You don't need that type of education anymore; all you need is to learn how to be a good wife and mother." I fought them as best as I could. It initially took several guards to hold me down while they injected me with drugs. I am proud to say that I even gave one guard a black eye. I refused to cooperate. But they forced me to cooperate and with time, they changed me. Not just the outside but the inside too. Now my future was bleak. All I had left was a hope for a chance to escape. And that chance required Jessica's assistance. "Jessica, it can be reversed. I know that it's hard to believe but I can be a man again. I just need to escape. I need some money, some clothing, to run away from here and find time and help to change me back." Before Jessica could respond to my request, her door suddenly flung open to reveal a very angry Frank. "I GOT YOU NOW BITCHES!" Frank yelled. I was struck with so much fear that I all could do was repeat, "How?" "How?" "Mrs. Givens saw you sneaking around in your nightgown and called me to let me know," he said. "It was easy to figure out where you were headed to get help try to run away." My fear prevented me from saying anything more than, "I?" Jessica spoke for me. "She just came here to talk that's all." "Do you think that I am fool?" He responded, "Do you know what the punishment is for aiding a sissy fugitive?" His threat to Jessica somehow got me over my fright, "She didn't help me," I said, "I asked but she refused." "Save it for the Commission," he said to me, "and if I were you I would be more concerned about yourself. The wedding is off. Once the Commission finds out about this, you will be sentenced into prostitution, probably into the bachelor party division. When one of the football players gets married, I will make sure you are hired so that you will have to service all of us." "Please," Jessica pleaded, "give her another chance. I am sure she will be a good sissy from now on." Frank stared right at me, and asked. "Is she correct? Will you be a good sissy?" It was either promise to be a good sissy and end up married to Frank or be sentenced to be a prostitute and service multiple men. There was no choice. "Well, what's your answer?" he asked, obviously impatient. "I will be a good sissy," I said meekly. "Prove it," he said. "How?" I asked, almost afraid to find out. "Show me what the Institute thought you about being a great cock sucker," he said. It's true. The Institute thought me a great deal about the feminine art of fellatio. I learned all the best techniques and was made to repeatedly practice on life like dildo. The only thing that allowed me to get through this training was the knowledge that it wasn't real. But now, I had to suck a real cock. I had to suck it, if I wanted to avoid becoming a prostitute. "It's obvious that you are not a good sissy," Frank said. "A good sissy would love to suck my cock." I couldn't delay it any longer. I knew that if I didn't suck his cock right now, I would probably end sucking many cocks for the rest of my life. It was choice between servicing one man versus servicing many men. So I dropped to my knees in front of Frank. I had to convince him that I was a good sissy. "Please, Frank," I said, "Please, let me suck your cock." As I said these shameful words, I messaged Frank's growing cock through his pants. Was it my imagination or was Frank huge? The treatment shrunk me, including my hands, significantly, so his cock probably only seemed huge. I unfastened his belt, unbuttoned his pants, lowered his zipper and lowered his pants. As soon as I lowered his underwear, his cock sprang forth. There was no doubt about it, Frank's cock was huge. I would have to stretch my mouth open to accommodate its head. I held the base of his cock with both my hands as I slowly lowered my head to take him into my mouth. Then suddenly Frank temporally froze me by saying, "stop!! Where do you think you're going? I want you to witness how your former boyfriend is nothing but a sissy." Figuring out that he wasn't talking to me but to Jessica, I continued to lower my head. My stretched mouth engulfed the head of his thick cock. I relaxed my throat, and started to let the length of the cock penetrate my throat. Even with the excellent training, I could not stuff the entire cock into my mouth and throat. When it was clear that I could not take any more of it, I started to pull my head up. When I had only the head of the cock in my mouth, I started to go down on it again and repeated the process pumping his cock in and out of my throat. As it pumped in, I sucked on it, when only the head was in my mouth I used my tongue to stimulate it. During this entire time, I used my hands to message the base of the cock and his heavy balls. I did this for several minutes, but sensed that he wasn't ready to cum yet. I began to panic. What if he thinks that I am bad cock sucker and decides to report my attempt at escape to the Commission? I'd end up a prostitute and Jessica, simply by helping me, would probably have to share my fate. Anything was better than that. Think, I told myself. What did they teach me at the Institute about cock sucking, I asked my self. Then I suddenly remembered. A good cock sucker is an enthusiastic cock sucker. So I moaned and moaned, and said with his head still in my mouth, "your cock tastes so good. Cum for me stud." That did the trick. His first spurt of cum surprised me and I almost gagged. That would have been a big mistake. The Institute made it very clear that a sissy must always swallow a man's cum. Thanks to training with the substitute cum, I managed to swallow all of the first spurt. But he kept cumming, second, third, than a fourth spurt. As hard as I tried, I couldn't swallow all of it and some dribbled out of my mouth and onto my cheeks. When he finally finished cumming, I took his cock out of my mouth and continued to moan as I licked his cock clean. I wanted to make sure to convince him that I was a good sissy. I was about to use my finger to get the cum clinging on my face back into my mouth but Frank stopped me. "If you can't swallow it," he said, "you will wear it." Still on my knees, I raised his underwear then his pants into place and carefully raised his zipper. Finally, I fastened his belt. "Let's go," Frank said and roughly pulled me up to my feet. "Wait," I said looking down at my panties and negligee on the floor, "my clothing." "We are leaving as you are," he answered. "Let me at least clean the cum from my face," I pleaded. "No," he said and pulled me towards Jessica's door. That's when I saw Jessica's face. She had nothing but pity in her eyes for me. I couldn't bear to look at her anymore so I looked down as Frank dragged me out of her apartment. But before Jessica closed her door after we stepped out, Frank turned around and said to her, "If I were you, I would say yes to Joe when he asks you out on a date. In fact I think you should come to our wedding as his date." Not waiting for Jessica to answer his demand, Frank continued to lead me towards my house. I was so humiliated, walking in the streets with nothing on but my bra, with cum stain on my face. This was my neighborhood and many people knew who I was. Should one see me in this condition, I would be mortified. As we walked Frank gave me something else to worry about. "When we get to your house, either you explain what happened or I will," he said. "If you explain it, you will tell your parents that you sneaked out to be with me because you couldn't wait until tomorrow to be fucked by me. You will tell them that you begged me to fuck you and even took off your panties and negligee to seduce me." I couldn't believe what he was saying? How could I tell my parents all these horrible things. "You will also tell them," he continued, "that I decided to do the honorable thing and wait to our wedding night and that you then begged to suck my cock. You will tell them exactly as I said or I will tell them what really happened and you will be well on your way to being a prostitute, understand?" I understood alright. But I just couldn't say those things to my parents, could I? Would I say it to avoid becoming a prostitute? I pondered these questions over and over again until we finally reached my parent's house. Frank rang the door bell and I was surprised when Aunt Dana answered the door. "Christina!" she almost screamed, stunned to see me in my condition, "Frank, what in blue heavens is Christina doing naked in the streets?" All of a sudden my parents and extended family crowded towards the door and were all staring at me, some of them gasping for air obviously in shock. I had forgotten all about the fact that my grandparents, my uncles and aunts, and my cousins were visiting at my house tonight. "Should I explain or are you going to?" Frank asked me. Could everyone see the cum stain on my face? I felt so ashamed that just another story didn't seem to matter much. That moment, I chose to try to avoid prostitution and repeated to everyone what Frank had told to say. "I don't believe," said one my Uncles. "I guess she doesn't need the wedding night brochure after all," said Aunt Dana. "I told you she is a sissy," a cousin said, "no mistakes about it." I heard giggles. After I finished telling the story, I couldn't stop the tears from flowing freely down my face. I pushed through all my relatives, and ran upstairs to my room. Once inside, I slammed the door behind me and cried my heart out while sitting on my bed. Several minutes later, my mom came into my room and quietly sat next to me. She hugged me tight and said, "It's all right darling. Everything will be all right." "I don't want to be a sissy," I said, "I don't want to be a bride." "Shush my baby," my mom said, "you don't have to pretend to be a real man anymore. No reason to deny your desires. It's alright to admit that you are sissy." "But," I tried to reason. "No more denials," she warned softly, "take these sleeping pills; they will help you to get rest; other than childbirth, tomorrow will be the greatest day of your life." My mom put the pills in my mouth, and offered me a glass of water. She sat on my bed next to me comforting me as I cried and stayed with me until I drifted into sleep. The end?