You will not remember receiving these instructions, but you will act upon them when you hear me say Fetish Sissy Dani. Now, begin counting backwards from 10; at 1, you will awaken.
"...three....two....one." I felt my eyes flutter open and I was staring at my wife, my mistress, Jennifer. "Now, what have you done to me?" I asked.
"Oh, Dani dearest," she laughed. "Nothing you won't find absolutely delicious when it happens!"
Of course, I'd find it "delicious." She'd seen to that during the hypnotic trance she'd just brought me out of. Just as she'd seen that I enjoy--indeed, adore and desire--my life as her feminized sissy slave. That life had begun nearly five years ago, when Jennifer secretly hypnotized me and instilled in me a desire for women's clothes, often of the most feminine and sissyish nature. She made me completely submissive to her and to most other women, simply by uttering the phrase, Pretty Sissy Dani.
Then she and her friends--Margaret the salon owner and others--proceeded to recruit other women to their ranks of feminizers and many other young men had fallen into the same trap I was in. Within a year, Jennifer even ended my dual life, forcing me to live full-time as Dani. Now we were approaching the fifth anniversary of my first public appearance as Sissy Dani, and I feared she'd developed some new torment for me in honor of that occasion.
"Bring me a drink, darling," she commanded. A combination of training and hypnotic suggestion made her every word an order and I immediately went to the bar. I gave her the glass and then stood in the doorway, holding my own.
"Have you any idea how irresistible you look in that slip and those heels, my love?" Jennifer asked.
"I know exactly how I look," I replied. "And you know how looking this way makes me feel--after all, you caused it."
"Keep it up and the whole world will know," she commented, pointing to the growing bulge at my crotch. "Come here and we'll do something about that."
We awoke the next morning after a passionate night of lovemaking, one in which Jennifer periodically ordered me back into trance, so that her new suggestions could be tested and strengthened. As we prepared for the day's activities, she announced, "Dani love, we're going to the mall this morning. I've laid out some choices of clothes for you. Go see which one you'd prefer."
I went to my dressing room and found three sets of clothes laid out. The first was simply one of my fairly "normal" shopping outfits--a tight-fitting sweater and a miniskirt. The second was similar, but had shorts, instead. The third was completely outrageous...not just for mall shopping, but for nearly anything. It looked like a little girl's party dress, but cut for a grown woman's figure and made all in shiny silver lame. Beside it lay a profusion of petticoats obviously meant to make the short skirt of the dress stand out nearly horizontally. A matching pair of silver pumps with five-inch heels were on the floor.
Jennifer came up behind me. "Which will it be, my Fetish Sissy Dani?"
"What did you call me--" I started to say. "Oh, mistress, the silver party dress is just divine! I must wear that to the mall today!" I gushed.
"Very well, Dani," she answered, smiling. "Get dressed."
As I put on the lingerie that went with the absurd outfit, as I sat to do my makeup, I knew something had clicked inside me when Jennifer called me "Fetish Sissy Dani". Even thinking about that name seemed to reinforce the desire I had to wear the girlish dress she had proposed. Not since my first year as Dani had I felt such a compulsion for a particular outfit.
Deep inside, I considered what was happening. I'm going to attract an incredible amount of attention dressed this way, I thought. She's done something to me again, and "Fetish Sissy Dani" is the trigger. Knowing I was about to experience a new humiliation, but unable to resist the hypnotic hold Jennifer had had on me for so long, I smoothed the dark nylons onto my legs. My god--she's got me feeling so incredibly aroused by all this!
Within an hour, we were at the mall. Sure enough, we got a lot of stares, both admiring and disapproving. After a little while, Jennifer said, "Wait for me here, Dani dearest." She moved quickly around the corner and disappeared. I bided my time, strolling a little around the center court where she'd left me, secretly enjoying the attention I received. I felt my cock rise in my satin panties, as it always did when my humiliation was at its highest.
Then I heard Jennifer's voice again, "Pose for me, Fetish Sissy Dani."
I whirled around and struck a somewhat little-girlish stance, all against my will. Another hypnotic trigger, of course. A flash went off and more shoppers turned to stare at the shiny-clad over-sized little girl with the sexy legs.
"A new item for my album!" Jennifer announced, grinning.
I thought perhaps Jennifer had had her fill of this new humiliation technique after the incident at the mall, but I was to be disappointed.
She had planned a social gathering at our home for the next evening. Invited were some of our closest friends and associates--Margaret the salon owner, Susan and Tammy, her boy/girl "little sister", Carla and Mandy, her son who had grown into most attractive sissy boy, and Maria and Barbie, her husband who had been made into a busty beauty in love with her own breasts.
A few hours before the first of them would arrive, Jennifer said, "Once again, I've laid out some outfits for you to choose from. Go see."
Apprehensively, I went to my room. On the bed were three sets of clothes. One was a quite normal cocktail dress, such as I had worn many times before on such occasions. The second was a pair of lounging pajamas. The third was a full-scale French maid's uniform.
Jennifer had never made me serve as a maid before. I knew what was coming. "Please, Mistress, not that--it's too humiliating, too much of a cliché," I pleaded.
She'd done it again. With those words, the maid's outfit became the most beautiful, the most appealing, the sexiest set of clothes in the room--maybe even the sexiest I'd ever been allowed to wear. I stripped out of the clothes I had on and began to dress the part of Jennifer's serving girl for the evening.
First came a corset, pulled in to make my waist a mere 19 inches. Attached to it were a pair of black lace nylons. My panties were crotchless--"A proper feminized maid is always available," Jennifer teased--and the feel of the layers of taffeta and lace petticoats against my already aroused cock simply stimulated me more.
Atop the corset and petticoats came the black satin maid's dress itself, molding itself to my curves (both real and manufactured) like a second skin, it seemed. The black patent pumps featured the highest heels I could recall wearing, seven inches in all, turning my already feminine gait into a short mincing step.
The outfit was completed with black lace gloves and an incredibly frilly white organza apron.
Just as I was completing my makeup--heavier and more dramatic than my usual by half--the doorbell rang. With my mind firmly in servant mode, thanks to Jennifer's hypnotic suggestions and the effect of the uniform, I minced to the door to answer it, and found that all our guests had arrived at once. I curtseyed and invited them all to the living room.
Carla was the most enthusiastic in her praise for Jennifer's latest hypnotic endeavors. "Jenn, she's just precious!" she cooed. "I've been trying to convince Mandy to serve as a maid at our parties, but she always balks at the idea."
"Perhaps she needs some further hypnotic conditioning," Jennifer advised. "Bring her over next week--we'll have her panting after black satin and stiff white pettis in no time!"
Mandy cringed. Unlike the rest of us, she had never been completely transformed into a girl. Her chest was still flat and her clothes--though incredibly girlish--still had male touches. She seldom wore skirts and heels (that night she wore flowing silk pants atop patent leather flats with little bows on the instep) and her face was touched with just enough cosmetics to make her seem a sissy, not a woman.
Tammy, on the other hand, had developed into a full-fledged female flirt, almost as much of a dominant feminizer as her sister. She found my new plight to be delightfully amusing, turning me from her peer into her plaything. Late in the evening, she reached under my frills to discover she had free access to my cock. I yelped when she tweaked it.
"Why, Dani dear, whatever is the matter?" Jennifer asked, knowingly.
"I think I found her 'handle'," Tammy responded, grinning. "May I play with it, Mistress Jennifer?"
"Of course, you may, Tammy," Jennifer said. "But let me give you some advice...." She came over and whispered in Tammy's ear.
Tammy began to stroke my cock. She was wearing calf-leather gloves and the touch was electrifying. "You know, Dani, I've often wondered what this would feel like if a cock-ring were added." Suddenly, I felt a constriction around the base of my shaft. I knew nothing had changed, but my body now reacted as if a cock-ring were there. Tammy's actions continued to add to my arousal, but the hypnotically suggested constriction on my cock prevented any further reaction on my part.
After a few moments, Tammy announced, "That's enough of that," and ceased her ministrations. But because of the imagined cock-ring, I remained hard and erect. "Problem, Dani?" Tammy inquired.
"Don't worry, Tammy," Jennifer said. "She can live with it a while longer."
I "lived with it" until our guests departed an hour or so later. Jennifer had led me back to the bedroom, still clad in my maid's uniform, and bade me lay back on the bed. She found my still-hard cock and lowered herself onto it, using it like a living dildo to bring herself to orgasm three or four times. Finally she said, "Release!" and the cock-ring feeling was gone and I exploded into her pussy.
And still Jennifer had not completed her new round of hypnotic controls and humiliations. When we awoke the next day, she announced, "I spoke with Margaret last night. She's given you an appointment later this morning."
I knew this couldn't be good. My regular appointment with Margaret wasn't set for another two weeks. This had to be part of Jennifer's new campaign. Reluctantly, I got dressed in a suitable outfit--a knee-length skirt, sensible heels and a blouse--and we drove downtown to Margaret's salon.
Margaret had begun specializing in the feminization of males long before Jennifer had met her--but Jennifer's hypnotic techniques and recruitment of other women into her circle of lovers of "male lesbians" had so increased that end of the salon's business that Margaret had virtually turned the place into a transformation workshop.
Most of the staff were sissified men, some more obvious than others, although Margaret herself insisted on handling her most valued clientele. Jennifer and I were definitely in that category. She greeted us warmly as we entered.
"Darlings! Wonderful to see you again!" She eyed me carefully. "No petticoats this morning, Dani love? Nothing the least bit fetishist?" I shivered. She knows all about this, I thought. She's in on it.
"You'd better get her prepared," Margaret said to Jennifer.
"Dani, look at me," she ordered, and I turned to stare into her eyes. "Sleep," she said, and I fell into a trance, but one in which I was allowed to recall her instructions. "Until I say the words, Look at yourself, Fetish Sissy Dani, you will have no awareness of what is happening to you. You will hear instructions, you will follow them, but you will not feel the ministrations of Margaret and her staff, you will not see the results of their efforts, until you hear those words. Do you understand?"
"Good. Now awake and be a good girl."
Instantly, it was if I lived in a strange, tunnel-like world. I could only hear Margaret's or her staff's voices when they were directed at me. Looking in the mirror across from the salon chair was like looking at a vampire's reflection--there was a blank spot where I ought to be. This went on for several hours, my only awareness being that their efforts were centered around my head and face.
At last they stood me before a full-length mirror, a mirror that still reflected--to me--nothing of my own image. "Look at yourself, Fetish Sissy Dani, " Jennifer said, and it was as if a slide projector suddenly shown an image on the mirror.
There I was, but it was a version of myself I barely recognized. My makeup was the strongest and most bizarre it had ever been. My lips were a deep crimson, my eyes accented in the smokiest purples, my brows shaved and redrawn into extreme arches, my cheeks glowing with an almost doll-like blush. A pair of large gold hoop earrings descended from my ears.
And above it all, my head gleamed. My shaved head!
I was dressed in a black leather suit, with a long hobble skirt atop six-inch heels. It was the ultimate fetish image and, despite everything, I felt my cock react to it. Clearly, Jennifer knew what that reaction would be.
As my expression changed to one of unrelieved lust, she announced, "Happy anniversary, Fetish Sissy Dani!" And I collapsed with the most powerful orgasm of my transformed life!