The Sissy Factory
- 3 years ago
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The Sissy Factory free porn video
Note:
The following journal entries are sanctioned by the overseers of the
Sissy Training Academy. STA staff believes that this history might prove
useful for the future training of young sissies. With that goal in mind,
Sissy 16452 has been authorozed to recount her experiences as part of
the graduation and release process. As always, STA welcomes any and all
comments regarding this sissy's account. Your thoughts are helpful in
deciding future training courses for our young charges.
Thank you for your attention;
Mistress Sapphire - Managing Trainer
Sissy Training Academy.
The email arrived just after 3am. My phone was on the nightstand, but I
didn't hear it beep. I'd slept through the message that was destined to
change my life forever.
"Hello, sissy 16452," the message read, "congratulations are in order.
After careful consideration of your various online profiles and personal
experiences, you have been nominated and accepted into our Sissy
Training Academy. You will report to our sissification center in this
Saturday at 5am sharp to begin your training. Transportation has been
arranged. Please note that once the sissy training program has begun it
may not be stopped for any reason--not that anybody has ever wanted or
been given the opportunity to do so."
As I said, I didn't get the email as I was asleep.
By the way, if you haven't guessed by now, I was already a total sissy,
so when I say that I was asleep you should picture me in my matching bra
and panty set and wearing a bright pink baby doll teddy. I was
blindfolded, gagged, tied up in a semi-comfortable spread-eagle position
and sleeping soundly as I played a series of erotic sissy hypnosis files
on my phone that would ensure a night of kinky sissy dreams.
That's how I have slept every night ever since a man I knew told me that
he loved being able to walk into my house in the middle of the night and
find a horny sissy tied up and ready to serve him. So that's what I did
for several years until my late-night beau moved out of state. Even
after he left, I continued sleeping while tied up with my backdoor
unlocked. This was so normal for me that one year when I went home for
Christmas at my mom's house, I found myself unable to sleep without
binding myself up first.
Moving on. I noticed the email in the morning when I woke, but as I was
in a hurry to get to work, I assumed it was just spam and mindlessly
tossed it in the trash folder. That was a huge mistake. I should have
taken the opportunity to carefully examine the email.
Had I done so I could have quickly realized that this was not just any
piece of spam. For example, there was a personal information section
that listed my name, social security number, phone numbers and my last
six addresses. There were links to all of my social media profiles, as
well as contact information for my family, work and various friends. My
bank accounts were fully monitored. They even had my medical history
posted, right down to my latest eye exam chart. A staff doctor had even
added a proposed hormone schedule to the file.
Scrolling further down would reveal a series of links. I would later
find out that these were copies of my profiles on FetLife, Alt, AFF,
CollarSpace and they even had a selection of some of my old Craigslist
posts, complete with the replies. There were also profiles on hardcore
sex sites that I had never even heard of before. Some of them were
written in languages I didn't speak.
There was also a gallery full of photos of me dressed in full sissy
mode, serving the men I had met over the years. Had I clicked these
links I would have absolutely freaked out. Some of these pictures had
never been posted online. They existed only on my phone or in a private
folder on my computer. There were also some pictures that I hadn't ever
seen before. These obviously came from the personal collections of the
men who were using me at the time they snapped the picture--basically POV
shots of a series of hard cocks stuffed into either of my sissy holes.
This aggregation of all of my private details was bad enough, but had I
taken the time to truly explore I would have realized that they were
mirrored sites existing on the dark web. There were hundreds of comments
that I had never seen. Masters and Mistresses around the world had been
scrutinizing my appearance and evaluating my performance as a sissy.
For example, one Master from Germany had gone through and rated my
cocksucking performance, grading videos that were nearly a decade old
against shots that had been taken only a few weeks back. He had
everything graphed out on a Sissy Performance Chart at noted when I
crossed into the areas marked Minimum, Average and Superior Sissy
Performance levels.
When I crossed into the Superior area on the chart, he had attached a
note with a bid to buy me as his own personal sissy slave.
I didn't see any of this until it was too late to do anything about it.
I certainly didn't see the button where I was given the choice to opt
out of the program. I'm certain that I would have done anything to make
this stop. Now, in hindsight, I am very grateful that I didn't do
anything about this until it was too late.
Back to my story. I went off to work blissfully unaware of what was
happening to me. Somewhere in the back of my mind I recognized that I
was a bit hornier than usual. I didn't know why, but I'm guessing that
my subconscious mind had clocked the importance of the email. I just
didn't have time to really think about it as I had a very busy week at
work.
More clues began arriving on Wednesday. Details about shipments and
scheduled doctor's exams. These looked like spam as well, so I binned
them and moved on. Once again, my subconscious pinged, but I was too
busy to pay attention.
I finally realized the seriousness of what was happening when I woke on
Thursday to find that somebody had taken control of my phone. The
background picture was locked to a picture of me gagging on a giant
black cock! It's not my best pic as I was in boi mode at the time, but
it freaked me out because you could easily see my face and thus know
without a doubt that it was me servicing that big monster cock.
All of my apps were gone, replaced with a handful of icons that I didn't
recognize and couldn't open. Somebody was on the other end of my phone
controlling everything. I'd never heard of anything like this and
totally started to freak out. Pictures would randomly pop up showing me
in one sissy situation after another. Sometimes they were accompanied by
the sounds of sissies being brutally fucked. This always came on at full
volume.
As you might guess, I was scared out of my wits. I was also rock hard in
my panties.
I spent several minutes trying to regain control of my phone. Nothing
worked. The few controls I could access, such as volume or mute, simply
changed back after I'd adjusted them. I found myself hyperventilating in
panic.
In desperation, I powered off my phone and drove to work. I logged on to
my office computer and found that it was in the same state. My desktop
background was now a nonstop loop of videos that showed me being bent
over and fucked by one of my favorite fuck buddies. I scrambled to close
my office door. I couldn't stop the video players, although I was able
to unplug the speakers. I was in a full panic now, promising to God that
I'd give up being a sissy if He'd make it stop.
I was still trying to deal with my work computer when a UPS truck pulled
up. I yelped in surprised panic when the receptionist called me over the
intercom to say that several packages had been delivered. I tried to
collect myself. I told her that I didn't know what they were, but she
told me to collect them anyway, with a comment that "personal deliveries
should not be delivered to the office."
I meekly obeyed. I borrowed a dolly from the supply closet and carted
the six boxes into my office. I closed and locked the door.
I was afraid to open the boxes, but too afraid not to.
The first two boxes contained school uniforms--these were basically a
Catholic school girl's kit, but modified to make them as slutty as
possible. The tops were cut extra low so that a frilly pink bra would
always be seen. The skirt hem was also raised to expose the matching
pink panties. And of course, instead of sensible Mary Jane shoes, this
uniform came with sky-high stripper heels.
The third box was filled with a collection of bras, panties, corsets and
stockings with garter belts in every color of the rainbow. I was rock
hard just through proximity to such a wonderful collection of feminine
finery.
That would prove to be a problem because box four contained a graduated
series of solid steel chastity devices. The largest one already looked
impossibly small to me, while the smallest had less than an inch in
length. There was also a small black box with a light that glowed green.
I had no idea what it was, but as you can guess, I would soon find out.
The fifth box was heavy because it contained a collection of dildoes and
butt plugs. Like the chastity devices, these were also graduated,
ranging from uncomfortably big to impossible for humans to use. One of
them was a scale model of a horse cock and I shuddered knowing deep in
the back of my mind that one day, I would be forced to practice on this
monster in anticipation of serving the real thing.
That's right. I had finally realized that this was real. I found myself
laughing out loud. It was the laugh of somebody going crazy, or perhaps
more accurately, the laugh of somebody resigned to accepting his fate.
From here on out I was basically on autopilot--shocked over what was
happening.
Mindlessly, I opened the last box. It contained a series of books--all of
them dedicated to becoming a perfect sissy or a full-fledged cock slut
and cum dump. There were books on makeup, fashion design, female grace
as well as deep throat techniques, advanced bondage concepts and a book
titled "Animal Husbandry for the Kinky Farmer."
Suddenly my office computer started flashing. It read "Turn on your
phone, slut!" I didn't even think of ignoring the command as I watched
my computer begin to automatically compose an email to my boss, filled
with dozens of attachments of some of my most compromising sissy shots.
The cursor hovered over the send button and I scrambled to power up my
cell.
No sooner did the phone complete its boot up than the phone rang once,
automatically answered itself and a deep male voice played on the
speaker. "Welcome 16452 to the Sissy Training Academy. Your sessions
begin this Saturday, but there are some preparations you must complete
before we get started."
"These will require most of the day," the voice continued, "so you need
to email your boss and let her know that you need to take a personal
day." I watched as another email magically composed itself--this one
rather mundane, saying simply that I had an emergency and would need to
leave work. I prompt appeared on my screen alongside a countdown timer
asking which email should be sent. I clicked on the email requesting a
personal day and breathed a sign of relief as the email filled with my
pictures disappeared and my computer shut itself off.
"Good sissy," the voice on my phone acknowledged. "Proceed immediately
to the parking lot. Don't forget to bring your deliveries."
Taking a deep breath, I stacked all of the boxes up on the dolly and
headed outside. The receptionist tried to stop me, saying that the dolly
couldn't be taken off premise. She abruptly stopped talking when two
large men in expensive suits walked into the building. The first man, a
gorgeous African American who looked like he could have played
professional football, stepped forward and flashed a grin that took our
breath away.
"No worries, darling," he laughed with a deep tone that sent a tingle
down my spine. "We'll get the boxes." He and his associate effortlessly
lifted the boxes and escorted me to a van that was waiting at the curb.
"Here you go, sweetie," he said as he helped me into a back seat. His
voice was sweet, but his body language made it clear that I was to obey
him.
There was a third man waiting in the driver's seat--another muscular
Black man who smiled at me as he reached around and buckled me securely
into the seat. This wasn't the average click of a seatbelt that I heard
as the buckle snapped shut. I still recall the sound of that buckle
clicking. I sounded loud and ominous, like a prison door being slammed
shut.
Before I could even think to respond, the driver held a rag doused in
some chemical up to my nose. "Something to help you relax," he laughed
as I drifted into unconsciousness. "It's gonna be a long day, darling."
The last thing remember is the van pulling out of the lot while the man
started to cut my clothes off my body.
Author's note: I hope you enjoy this series. I anticipate a multi-part
story where our sissy heroine is whisked away to sissy school, trained,
punished and ultimately finds happiness as a sissy. I appreciate any and
all comments from readers. I will also seriously consider any
suggestions you might have for sissy 16452.
Thank you in advance for your input;
xoxox - Sissy Michelle, aka Emshoninque.
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