Volunteer to Change, Conclusion

Stanley awoke the next morning at home, only dimly aware of how he'd gotten there. He remembered his sudden urge to volunteer for the show, being hypnotized, and even his transformation and actions as Star Sissy. He remembered kneeling at Mistress Sapphire's feet and kissing his way up her legs in worship. He remembered brushing and grooming the hair of one of the mistresses in the audience. And he especially recalled the incredible arousal he got from all of that, and how they permitted him to relieve himself in front of all, and the combination of arousal and humiliation that caused in him.

Even thinking about it now, his cock was growing.

But he couldn't recall at all changing out of the girly clothes or getting home. He got up and went to the closet to pick out his clothes for the day...and found that delightful pink dress hanging in the closet...and the shoes that went with it on the floor. He opened the hamper outside the bathroom--the frilly lingerie he'd worn beneath the dress was there!

Had he somehow come home still dressed as Star Sissy?

And that question only increased his arousal.

An arousal that increased even further when he acted on his strange compulsion to again wear the frilly panties beneath his normal male attire. Once dressed, and struggling to keep his raging sissy-cock under control, he drove to the mall.

He wandered through the stores, gazing longingly--in a way he never had before--at the myriad of feminine clothes available...especially drawn to the frilliest, most feminine, sissiest of the attire. He was sure his erection was clearly visible to all who passed him by, so he went to the food court and sat, hoping to hide his excitement beneath a table.

He buried his face in a newspaper, trying to fight his new-found urges, but even the ads for female clothing heightened his arousal.

"Hello, Stanley," the voice purred from above him.

He looked up--and there stood Madame Sapphire! "I'm so happy to find you here. It means that at least one of the post-hypnotic suggestions I gave you last night is working." She gestured to the chair opposite his. "May I join you?"

Gulping, he nodded. She was dressed stylishly--not in the full domme mode she had worn for her show, but still with a clear hint of her dominant personality. Her hair was worn down this morning, so that her earrings were hidden. "You are surprised to see me, aren't you? Were you also surprised when you discovered you couldn't dress without your pretty panties?" She smiled at him. "You are wearing your frilly sissy panties, aren't you?"

Still too embarrassed to speak, Stanley nodded again. "Good, then all my little suggestions are working...including this one." She brushed back her hair, revealing the entrancing star sapphires in her earrings, and said, "Sissies are forever." With that magic phrase, Stanley dropped into trance as he had last night. His posture changed--his legs crossed at the ankles, his hands gracefully folded at his knees.

"Hello, Star Sissy," Sapphire said.

"Hello, Mistress," Stanley answered quietly.

"Once again, you are in a ten-deep trance, my pet," the domme explained. "In a moment, I will awaken you, and you will be compelled to obey my every request. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I will obey you."

"Excellent. Now, tell me, did you enjoy your experience last night?" He nodded.

"Come now, darling, you can speak--and in that lovely sissyish voice I taught you. Answer me, did you enjoy your experience last night?"

Stanley answered in a breathy contralto, "Yes, Mistress, I enjoyed last night."

"And are you aroused now, knowing how completely I have transformed you and control you?"

"Yes, Mistress, I am aroused."

"Very good. Now, I am about to further your sissyhood. Every step you take toward feminine slavery will arouse you further, no matter how humiliating it might seem," Sapphire instructed. "In fact, the humiliation is a major cause of the arousal."

"Yes, Mistress," Stanley replied.

"Very well--on the count of ten, you will open your eyes and act completely awake, but still be completely under my control. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten!" Stanley's eyes fluttered open, but his sissyish posture was unchanged.

The mistress leaned into his face and brought out a cosmetics case from her purse. "Now, Star my sweet, it's time to make you look as sweet as you are." She brushed his cheeks with blush, extended his lashes with mascara, dusted his eyelids with a light shadow, and finally darkened his lips with a deep pink lipstick. She noted as each of those administrations caused his breathing to shift as he became more aroused.

"Stand up, Star Sissy!" she commanded. "We have several appointments to keep!"

The first of those appointments was at a shoe store, where Stanley's sneakers and socks were exchanged for a pair of white thigh-highs and black patent Mary-Janes with four-inch heels. The second was at a shop for teen-age girls, where the clerk--clearly a friend (or slave?) of Madame Sapphire--was eager to supply the new sissy with a full wardrobe of suitable clothing. Sapphire picked out a range of girlishly frilly outfits...and Star Sissy left the shop in a blue school dress with a starched white pinafore over lacy crinolines. The dress left his long legs showing all the way to the tops of his thigh-highs.

The final stop was the mall's beauty salon. Again, Madame Sapphire was clearly known and expected. Star Sissy was placed in a styling chair, while a number of different wigs, in a variety of styles and colors was tried on her. They ranged from a dark pageboy to a blonde frizz of permed curls. At the sight of it on her new sissy's head, Sapphire grinned. "That's the one, darling. It's so glorious sissy and so completely unmasculine! It will do you wonderfully until your own hair grows out and we can have it colored and permed in exactly the same style!"

Moments later, they were out of the mall, and Sapphire pulled out her camera, having Star Sissy pose prettily for a number of snapshots.

And then, with Star Sissy in the most sissyish of poses, Sapphire suddenly said, "Sissies must end," and Stanley stumbled in the unfamiliar heels....but his arousal didn't change a bit.

He smiled shyly. "Thank you for giving me this, Mistress...but I have a question. You said you were going to change my real hair to this style?"

"Well, of course, darling," Madame Sapphire answered. "I fully intend for you to be my little sissy--whether in masculine or feminine clothes--at all times. After all, you did volunteer for this, didn't you? And as I told you, Sissies are forever."

THE END

Volunteer to Change, Part One

Stanley had been curious about dominant/submissive kink for a long time, but living in a small town, he'd never been able to indulge that curiousity to any great extent. Now, however, having moved to the big city after college, he had begun reading the fetish tabloids available in the redlight district...and discovered a professional dominatrix who held a weekly "show" for people just like him.

So Friday evening found him at the door of a townhouse in the bohemian section of the city; he buzzed and an attractive blonde dressed in red latex answered the door. "Welcome to Madame Sapphire's Lair," she said, smiling. She held out her hand and he placed the entry fee in it. Gesturing, she welcomed him in and escorted him to the room that was set up as a make-shift auditorium.

There was a low stage at one end and chairs placed in rows before it. Many of those chairs were already filled with a mix of men and women of all ages and types. Some were clearly members of the "scene," based on how they were dressed. Others were tourists, hoping for a kinky thrill. There were a few in both groups who were obviously couples, but most seemed to be, like Stanley, on their own.

After a few minutes, when the last chairs had been filled, the house lights lowered and the lights on the stage came up. In strode a true beauty: She was tall, well over six feet in her six-inch heels. The shoes matched the rest of her black patent leather outfit. She wore her dark blonde hair in a bun at the back, revealing the brilliant star sapphires that dangled from her ears. She nodded to acknowledge the applause of the audience and then soft music began to play from the sound system. Other members of the cast came in and the show began.

The show, lasting about an hour, covered many of the usual kinks--spanking, bondage, foot and breast worship. At the end, the entire cast again came out and took a bow. Then Madame Sapphire again took center stage and motioned for the house lights to come up.

"Thank you all for coming. Now is the time for some audience participation," she began. "There is one part of my repertoire I have not displayed for you as yet." Some members of the audience, clearly familiar with the show, smiled and whispered to each other. "I am an accomplished hypnotist and I use that skill to determine the true nature of my submissives' needs and desires." She looked out over the audience. "Is there anyone here who would like to have his or her real desires revealed?"

Some of the onlookers squirmed in their seats, afraid they might get called upon. And then, almost without realizing he'd done it, Stanley raised his hand.

"Ahhh, excellent. Please come forward." There was polite applause and some whispers as Stanley made his way to the stage and was introduced. Madame Sapphire indicated a chair on the stage and he sat, somewhat nervous. Why had he volunteered? He was curious, sure...but this was stranger than he ever imagined he could be.

The domme pointed off stage and both the house lights and stage lights dimmed. A single light was focused on Madame Sapphire's face and another lit Stanley from behind. "Look at me, Stanley," she quietly commanded. Stanley looked up at her spot-lit image and saw how the light made the star sapphires hanging from her ears seem to sparkle and glow more vividly. "That's it, Stanley," she continued. "Gaze at me, see how my sapphires attract your attention, rivet your eyes to them." It seemed to Stanley that the sparkle and glow of the jewels increased as he stared and as she quietly encouraged his gaze. "Now, look at my eyes...." and it seemed as if the sparkle of the gems was in her eyes as well. "Feeling sleepy, Stanley?" she asked. He nodded. "That's good," she answered. "Keep looking at my eyes, at my beautiful sapphires, and feel your eyes grow heavy, your mind grow sluggish, and sink into trance for me."

Madame Sapphire continued in that vein for several minutes, and Stanley felt his awareness of anything except the dominatrix and her voice fade away. The audience was still there...but he no longer cared about them. Madame Sapphire was all he knew. "All right, Stanley, I'm going to count to three...and when I reach three, you will be completely entranced, deep in hypnosis. You will hear only my voice, answer all my questions truthfully, and obey all my commands." Stanley nodded again. One....two....three!" Stanley's eyes closed and his head dropped to his chest. The crowd gasped.

"Stanley, I know that most of those who come to my shows for the first time have a secret fantasy," Madame Sapphire said. "You must speak the truth in this trance. What is your secret fantasy?"

"I want to be submissive to a beautiful, powerful woman," Stanley answered, his voice dull and lifeless in the trance.

"A woman like me?" the domme asked.

"I would love to submit to you," he replied.

"And what are you like when you feel submissive?"

"Soft, pliant, willing...." he murmured.

"Soft and pliant--like a girl?" Sapphire asked.

"No...like a sissy," Stanley answered.

Sapphire looked out at the audience and smiled. "I know exactly what you mean, Stanley. I want you to drop further into trance, deeper and deeper. I will count and when I reach ten, you will be ten times deeper in trance than you are now." Stanley nodded. "One...two...three. Three times deeper now. Four...five...six. Six times deeper now. Seven...eight...nine. Nine times deeper now."

She paused, observing how Stanley's breathing had changed, his posture slumped. "Ten! Ten times deeper in trance, ready to do anything I ask, without question." She gestured to the back of the room and two assistants rolled in a rack of clothes.

"Stanley, open your eyes but remain deep in your ten-level trance," Sapphire commanded. "Come over here and pick out what you would wear as my sissy submissive."

Stanley rose, his eyes open but glassy and looked over the range of clothes on the rack. He pointed to a particular outfit.

"I thought so," Sapphire said, smiling again. "You will go with Miss Clarisse and Miss Susan to get ready, please. You will obey them as you would me."

She handed the fateful outfit to her two assistants and they led Stanley off the stage.

Then Sapphire turned to the audience. "Certainly, we can't continue to call him 'Stanley' in that lovely outfit. Any suggestions?"

There were cries of "Sissy" and "Prissy" and "Kitty-cat"...but one woman, clearly a domme herself, announced, "He should be called Star Sissy, in honor of the star sapphires that entranced him."

Sapphire grinned. "Star Sissy. I like it."

A few minutes later, Clarisse and Susan led the transformed Stanley back to the stage and sat him on the chair. He wore a pink satin dress in the style of a little girl's party dress over his padded breasts, with a white petticoat beneath. His legs were shaved smooth and encased in sheer nylons. He had white Mary-Jane style shoes on with four-inch heels. His nails had been shaped and polished red and he had a thin gold chain around his right wrist. His face had a light coating of makeup but his close-cropped hair remained uncovered by a wig.

He sat on the chair as a man would--legs slightly spread, arms folded on his now-larger chest. "Oh, that will never do," Sapphire scolded. "You're a sissy now, you have to act like one. How would a sissy sit?"

Immediately, instinctively, Stanley's posture changed. He crossed his legs and placed his manicured hands gently on his knees. His head dropped a little and he looked at the hypnotic mistress from beneath mascaraed lashes.

"Much better," Sapphire commented. "We have given you a new name, my little one. You are Star Sissy. Do you like that name? Do you want to be Star Sissy?"

"Yes, mistress," he answered, his voice breathier and quieter than before. "I would love to be Star Sissy."

"Excellent." She looked him deep in the eyes. "Star Sissy, in a moment I will wake you from your trance...but you will remain Star Sissy and behave accordingly until I say to you Sissies must end. At that point, you will be Stanley again, with full knowledge of the wonderful time you had as Star Sissy. And if I say Sissies are forever, you will again be Star Sissy."

She began to count backwards. "Ten, deep in your trance; nine, now only nine-times entranced; eight, seven, six, only six times entranced; five, four, three, only three-times entranced; two, one, zero--awake and eager to serve as Star Sissy!"

Artwork challenge

Here are four portraits I did a while back. Each is a feminized version of a well-known actor.

Call them A-D in order...can you identify them?

The Bimbo Pill, Conclusion

The two women enjoyed themselves over the whole weekend, playing with and displaying their new toy. They took Billie Sue to clubs and bars, to restaurants and theaters, always with the goal of showing off her abundant charms, getting her more and more used to making a spectacle of herself and teaching her to get sexual arousal and pleasure from that exhibition.

On Monday morning it was time to return to work and display the new Bill Sillivan to his co-workers and employees. They went into the office very early that morning, well before anyone else would report, with Billie Sue covered up in a trench coat and hat, so that not even the security guards would know their secret.

Once in the office, Felicia and Portia left the bimbo to amuse herself in Bill's office, while they arranged a meeting by sending e-mails to all the right people--Bill's fellow executives, the other female staff members, and selected members of the industry press.

Two hours later, they greeted the visitors and led them into the conference room--the one with a sliding door that could be opened directly into Bill's office. Felicia began the pitch, describing the new drug, its many benefits--both medical and cosmetic, and then she took questions.

Most of those were about the drug and how it would be marketed. But then, one of the reporters--based at a local scandal sheet--piped up: "Portia, your e-mail promised a 'dramatic demonstration' of the drug's abilities. Where is it?"

"And where's Bill Sullivan?" chimed in one of the company executives. "I thought this was his baby."

The two women smiled conspiratorially. "We have the answer to both those questions as the finale to our conference," Portia replied. She pushed a button on the podium and the sliding doors opened behind her, revealing Bill's office.

There, lounging on the couch, was the sexiest vision many of the participants could recall seeing. She wore a leopard-print outfit--tiny panties, a bra and a robe that feel open to reveal her luscious breasts and long, smooth legs perched on black patent pumps. Her platinum blonde hair fell to her shoulders; her dark eyes smoldered with undisguised lust; her red lips were parted as she panted with the same arousal.

Despite the many changes, some of the assembly recognized her. "Bill?" asked the head of marketing. "Is that you?"

"Billie Sue," she breathed in answer. "Billie Sue Bimbo."

The women in the group, many of whom had been targets of Bill Sullivan's sexism, smiled; a few even laughed outright. The men shuffled nervously, even as their libidos responded to the sheer sex that the once-male executive seemed to radiate.

Billie Sue's eyes fell on everyone of those crotches, as she caressed her breasts and let her fingers stray to her own bulging panties. She licked the pre-come from her fingertips as she said:

"I'm terribly horny! Who wants to make Billie Sue happy?"

THE END

The Bimbo Pill, Chapter Three

Three attractive women walked through the local mall. Two of them were brunettes, dressed in conservative professional wear; the third was a blonde with a spectacular figure, much revealed by her tight-fitting blouse, ass-hugging miniskirt and the six-inch heels that turned her walk into a jiggling mince as she struggled to keep pace with the assertive strides of her two companions.

"Hurry along, Billie Sue!" demanded Felicia. "We don't have all day to get you the sexy little outfits you deserve, honey!"

"Yes, Miss Felicia," the bimbo who had once been Felicia's boss replied.

Portia stopped before a particular boutique, well-known in the town for its clientele of the sluttiest young women--the ones who were natural bimbos. "This is the place, Billie Sue," she said, pointing to the door.

"Cock-Tease? Are you sure I'm ready for that kind of clothes, Miss Portia?" the blonde asked in her breathy whispering voice.

"Of course you are!" Portia insisted. "What other shop in town could dress a bimbo like you as you should be dressed? Just look at that rack of yours--where else could we find a blouse that would simultaneously hold it up and show it off than here?"

With that, Felicia and Portia guided their creation into the shop, where the heavy beat of club music throbbed and the sales staff all looked like the store's best models for its line of tight, revealing, almost fetishistic attire. As Billie Sue Bimbo stood gaping, her blue eyes wide with a combination of desire and lack of intellect, the two female executives selected outfit after outfit for the blonde temptress, all to be charged against Bill's credit cards.

They escorted Billie Sue to the changing room. There they put her into an all-black creation--a silk skirt that clung to her thighs, even as it left them barely covered and a blouse with a sheer top with silver threads that showed off her magnificent boobs.

They looked over their Galatea. "Something's not right," Felicia mused. "Oh, of course--her hair's not blonde enough, yet." She looked directly at the bimbo and said, "Billie Sue, this needs more contrast. Your hair should be lighter, really platinum blonde to make this work."

The suggestion was all that was required. Her mind made pliant by the secret drug, her body made obedient to that mind as well, Billie Sue's hair grew lighter and shinier, until it was nearly white in color. And, as Felicia had suggested earlier, her IQ dropped another few notches.

She stood there, staring at the mirror, transfixed by her own image. Her hand strayed to her chest, and her long pink nails played with her nipples through the thin fabric.

"Look," Portia whispered to Felicia. "She displaying bimbo-ish behavior without any prompting from us! She can't keep her hands off her own tits...and watch where that other hand is straying!"

Indeed, Billie Sue's hands were both active, one teasing her nipples, the other rubbing her crotch. Felicia decided it was time to reinforce the idea. "Yes, Billie Sue Bimbo--dressing sexy turns you on, doesn't it? Go on--play with yourself...but don't come until I say so!"

The two women watched the male bimbo drive herself to a frenzy, feeling their own arousals grow at the display. Finally, Felicia realized Billie Sue couldn't hold it any longer. "All right, Billie Sue--Come!" And as she did so, Billie Sue plunged her hand into her panties, covering it with her own juices.

And Portia guided that hand to Billie Sue's mouth, urging her to suck up the male come and get used to it!

More to come

Edited Pics

As promised, here are some pictures of yours truly in my new suit in which I've edited and manipulated the images for specific effects.

The first I call "cleavage"...as I've subtly altered the image to create more definition to my boobs.

The second is "waistline"--I've given myself a digital liposuction to create a more attractive curvature.

The third is "more legs"--as I often do with images for captions or story illustrations, I've lengthened my legs to make them longer and sexier.

The last is, perhaps, the most ambitious. As regular readers know, I've been using a mask of a female face to hide the beard I currently can't remove for personal reasons. In this shot, I took two pictures--one with the mask, one without. Then I altered the unmasked shot to "put on makeup" as I've done with others sent to me by friends and acquaintances. Finally, I took the mouth and chin from the masked shot and combined them with the unmasked one. That took a lot of work, as the color of the mask is not close to my own skin tone and required extensive color balancing and matching. I'm very interested in your comments and observations on this one.

My New Suit

I went back to Burlington Coat Factory and picked up that "cute suit" that I mentioned here.

Perhaps I should have picked up a blouse to go with it, but ended up pairing it with a red turtleneck. This afternoon, I got dressed and took photos, some of which are posted here.

As usual, these pics have been mildly edited--the mask has been made to look more natural and I've blurred the background for greater clarity on the figures. In a subsequent post, I'll include some pics where I did somewhat more editing.

Since my wife is out for the day, I decided to stay dressed...in fact, I'm still in the entire outfit (absent mask and wig) as I type this. And my arousal is enormous. I'd forgotten how hot I could get when I stay en femme for a long time.

The Bimbo Pill, Chapter Two

"You gave him a second pill this morning?" Portia asked.

"Yes--remember, the effects are cumulative," Felicia reminded her. "With every dose, the mind's control of the body increases...and the suggestibility of that mind increases as well. C'mon, let's see how easy it is now to make Billie Sue even more of a bimbo!"

They entered the room where their once-boss had spent the night, dressed in the skimpiest and frilliest of baby-doll pajamas. Billie Sue was up and about now, and beginning to feel the effects of the second administration of the "bimbo pill" earlier that morning. It was harder to think, tougher to do anything without specific instructions. She was staring at the clothes laid out on her bed.

As she picked up a bra, Felicia's voice came from behind her. "Now, Billie Sue, you don't really need that right now. After all, shouldn't a bimbo want her breasts to show through her clothes?"

Billie Sue turned and smiled, her pink tongue licking her lips for a moment. "I suppose so, Miss Felicia." She turned back to the bed. "Then what should I put on?"

Felicia handed her a red-checked blouse and a black miniskirt, to go with the gartered stockings, black panties and black patent pumps she already wore. Billie Sue shrugged her way into the blouse, grinning and giggling as she saw how its deep V neck would reveal her cleavage.

"That's better, Billie Sue--but we're not finished this morning," Felicia said. "Turn to the mirror, sweetheart."

The transformed executive obeyed. He saw an attractive, if underdressed, young woman with a blossoming figure. But that figure was not yet what Felicia thought it should be.

"Billie Sue, you have lovely tits, don't you? But are they really a bimbo's boobs?" Felicia suggested. "What kind of tits do you bimbos have, darling?"

"Big ones, Miss Felicia; bouncy ones with huge nipples!" Billie Sue answered, repeating the suggestions given her in the tapes she listened to overnight.

"Then those tiny little titties of yours simply won't do, will they?" Felicia suggested further. And with that suggestion, Billie Sue's boobs began to expand and grow, becoming full, round globes that swelled within her blouse. In fact, the blouse became so tight, Billie Sue had to open a few buttons and pull the blouse over her bulging bazooms.

Portia whispered something to Felicia. "Oh, that is good, Portia," Felicia agreed. "Why don't you handle that?"

"Do bimbos have dark hair, Billie Sue?" she asked.

"I don't know, Miss Portia....should all bimbos be blonde?" the simpering boy-girl wondered.

"Well, of course, they should," Portia advised...and watched as Billie Sue's hair lightened a few shades. "That's enough for now, babydoll. But what's true of blondes and bimbos?"

Billie Sue looked confused.

"Come now, Billie Sue, what does every man joke about blondes...especially blondes with big tits?" Portia asked again.

"That they're...dumb?" Billie Sue mused.

"Exactly!" Portia said, triumphantly. "Now, listen carefully to this--the blonder you get, the bustier you get, the dumber you get! Blondes don't care about anything except how they look, how attractive they are. And big-titted blondes? They only care that they can look sexy and seductive by showing off their spectacular figures, right?"

"I suppose so, Miss Portia....if you say so," Billie Sue answered, Portia's suggestions already working on her mind. She was going blonde, she had big tits now, she must be dumb.

Felicia stepped forward. "I think it's time we took Billie Sue shopping, Portia. She needs the right clothes for her new look!"

More to come

The Bimbo Pill, Chapter One

The research and development team called it the greatest pharmaceutical discovery in a century; something that would revolutionize medicine at every level.

"Let me get this straight," Bill challenged them. "This drug, administered orally, allows the patient to make changes in his or her own body, just by thinking about them?"

"That's it, in a nutshell," Felicia replied. As head of the team of researchers who accidentally found the chemicals involved, it was up to her to convince the president of the company to continue testing and then marketing the drug. "There are a few restrictions--it has to be a change the patient can visualize: The disappearance of a wart, or the regrowth of a finger, something like that. We haven't tested out more extensive changes, such as regrowth of an entire limb. And complicated stuff--spinal cord repair--seems out of the question, since it would be beyond the capacity of the layman to envision. Although...."

"Although what?" Bill insisted.

"Well, there's an odd side-effect to the drug as it stands now," Felicia explained. "It lowers the patient's resistance to suggestion. It all but induces an hypnotic trance. If that could be used to influence the patient's mind and direct it to make the necessary alterations, even in complicated structures...."

"I get the picture," Bill said. Indeed he did. He suspected there might be an even greater profit for this drug in somewhat illicit markets. "Could it be used for, shall we say, cosmetic purposes?"

"Such as?"

"You know, the usual things healthy men and women want changed about their bodies--bigger breasts, smaller noses, stuff like that," he explained. Felicia swore she saw a leer behind his innocent smile.

"I suppose," Felicia answered, "though I'd consider it a waste of the drug's value...."

"Never mind, then," Bill said. "Just a thought. Give me a day or two and I'll get back to you with an answer."

The next day, Felicia was going through her e-mail when she noticed a message from Bill...one that was also sent to a long list of outside directors. Her name had obviously gotten on the list by accident, since the subject line was about the body-change drug. Curious, she opened the message:

The drug could be a winner in the blackmarket.

Imagine a guy being able to give this to his wife or girlfriend and, in a matter of days, have a completely compliant companion, complete with the body he wants her to have--bigger boobs, longer legs, different hair color, whatever.

This could be the ultimate date drug!

"The disgusting pig!" she exclaimed. "No wonder he wanted to know about 'cosmetic' uses!" She sat there, fuming, wondering how she could prevent him from turning all their work into this illicit market...and then she brightened with an idea.

She went to see her colleague Portia down the hall and showed her the tell-tale e-mail. "Could the combined effects of the drug--the body changes and the suggestibility--have the effect I've outlined on a male?" she finally asked.

"I don't see why not," Portia answered. "But why...?" And then it dawned on her. "How soon can we get started?"

Bill's head felt fuzzy and numb, like he couldn't quite think. His eyes came into focus and there was Felicia standing before him. He tried to get up...and couldn't.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Felicia held up a red-and-white capsule before him. "We gave you one of these about 30 minutes ago," she answered, smiling. "Recognize it? Our miracle drug? I believe you called it 'the bimbo pill' in that e-mail I found."

"Huh?" Bill discovered he still couldn't quite think straight. "That--that was just a joke, Felicia!"

"Somehow, I don't think so." Felicia observed him trying to concentrate. "That's the initial effect of the drug, by the way. It's sapping your will, making you completely susceptible to anything I tell you. What's your name?"

"Bill Sullivan," he answered.

"No, it's Billie Sue Bimbo," she corrected him.

"No, it's Bill...." he tried to object.

"Billie Sue Bimbo," she insisted.

"...Biiillll..." he tried to get out.

"Billie Sue," Felicia demanded...and watched as his eyes glazed over and then glowed with new knowledge. "What's your name?" she asked again.

"Billie Sue Bimbo," he answered readily.

"You don't sound like a Billie Sue--higher, sillier, with a giggle, please."

"I'm Billie Sue Bimbo," the man replied, with a high-pitched titter.

"Excellent--but you're not dressed like a bimbo, either. Strip out of those clothes and put these on, please." She handed him a few garments and he obediently put them on.

In just a few moments, he was clad in the lacy, pale blue bra and panty set. "Wonderful," Felicia said, smiling again. "But somehow you still don't look like a bimbo. Look in the mirror."

Billie Sue turned to the mirror. "Would a bimbo have such short hair? Shouldn't your hair be shoulder-length, at least?"

"Yes, it should," he agreed...and suddenly his hair began to grow. Within a short time, it cascaded over his shoulders.

"And where are your breasts...or rather your boobs, your tits, your jugs? Let's fill out that bra, huh?"

"Yes, I should have breasts," he said, as they began to swell on his chest.

"What should you have?" she asked.

"Boobs," he corrected himself, smiling as they grew a bit more.

"What are they?"

"My tits, my jugs, my bazooms!" he shouted in a giggling voice as they expanded to fill the cups of the bra.

Felicia smiled. The first stage was almost done. But much more remained. "Look at yourself, Billie Sue." He stared into the mirror. "Already you are beautiful, and we've only just started. Aren't you excited to become the bimbo you are meant to be?" He nodded.

"Show me how excited you are...what would a bimbo do to show her excitement?"

Without further encouragement, Billie Sue plunged her hand into her panties, found her bimboish clitty-stick and began to rub it.

Felicia grinned. Tomorrow, Billie Sue Bimbo would grow some more.

More to come

Explanation, Apology, Request

I had intended to post the sequel to Ms. Gilbert's Academy, next, in which Marie's fiance gets the treatment proposed in the conclusion of the first story. But I discovered, in checking my files, that I have only the first chapter of that story saved. I have all the art I did for it, but not the text.

I apologize that I can't post that story now...but if any of my old readers might have saved that one in its entirety, I would dearly love for them to send it to me.

In the meantime, I'll post another work.

Ms. Gilbert's Academy, Conclusion

December 15:

It was time for Christmas break. Marie was eager to see her darling little changeling in person. She drove to the Academy grounds and was greeted at the entrance by Ms. Gilbert herself.

"Mrs. Anderson! How lovely to see you again," the headmistress exclaimed. She gestured to the older, but still attractive woman to her left. "This is Dr. Madchenmacher, whom I know Nicole has told you so much about." The doctor extended her hand and Marie noted the variegated jewel hanging from the gold chain and nestled in her exposed cleavage. That must be the mysterious pendant Nicole has talked about in her letters, Marie thought.

She was escorted to Ms. Gilbert's office, where the headmistress pulled out the latest progress report on the former Nicholas. "She has reached the stage you wished her to achieve," Ms. Gilbert explained. "She delights in her total femininity, displaying an image of pre-teen sexuality." She handed Marie a recent photo, showing the boy-girl in a pink top, shiny silver mini-skirt, long sleek legs perched on platform sandals with four-inch heels.

"My lord, she's gorgeous!" Marie cried. "How have you ever managed to achieve this in such a short time?"

"Vould you be interested in obserfing a session with your kleine sissy?" Dr. Madchenmacher asked.

"Is that possible?"

"Certainly," Ms. Gilbert replied. "Nicole's final 'class' before Christmas vacation will begin shortly. You can watch from our observation chamber."

A short time later, Marie was comfortably seated in a darkened room with a window opening onto what looked like a complicated electronics lab. The window was actually a one-way mirror; she could see everything that happened, but Nicole would not see her watching.

In a few moments, Nicole entered, now wearing the standard academy uniform. She curtseyed to the doctor. "Guten morgen, sissy Nicole," the woman said. Then she pulled her pendant from her bosom and dangled it before the boy-girl's eyes. Marie could tell that Nicole's attention was immediately held by the sparkling jewel, especially as it glinted in the spotlight that seemed to be aimed directly at it. "Lovely to look at," the doctor said and Marie watched as Nicole's eyes seemed to glaze and she came to rapt attention.

"Vunce again you are deep in trance," Dr. Madchenmacher droned. "You will listen to all we tell you, you will watch carefully all we show you. You are a sissy puppet, being molded to our ways, our will."

"I am a sissy puppet," Nicole repeated, dreamily.

The transformed student was strapped into a dentist-like chair that faced a large screen. The doctor dimmed the lights in the room and the screen lit up, showing a succession of lovely young women, each engaged in a series of flirtatious behaviors. "Vatch the girls, sissy Nicole," the doctor commanded. "See how they flash their eyes, smile seductively, reveal their girlish charms so sveetly. You must act the same vay. You are a sissy, a girl like them despite your maleness. You are a flirt and you will act like one whenever any woman says to you 'Bat your eyes, Nicole. Now, vatch the luffly pictures and learn."

For the next half-hour, the entranced Nicole absorbed the flirting techniques shown to her. Then the screen darkened, the room lights went up and Dr. Madchenmacher released her from the chair. She again displayed the mysterious pendant and said, "Delightful to see!"

Nicole awoke from her trance. "Your mother is here to take you home for the holidays, liebchen," the doctor said. "Go dress appropriately and join her in Ms. Gilbert's office."

In the observation chamber, Marie was exhausted. The session and its effect on her had been more intense than she could have imagined. I actually came watching my boy be transformed to a girl, she thought. How delightful!

Thirty minutes later, Marie was seated again in Ms. Gilbert's office when a knock came at the door. "Enter," said the headmistress, and Nicole came in.

Marie gasped as she saw her transformed son in a little black dress, long hair streaming down his back, skirt ending just inches below the crotch, legs extended by the black platform sandals he wore, high on their five-inch heels. Nicole curtseyed. "Good afternoon, Ms. Gilbert." She turned to her mother.

"Mother, thank you so much for giving this to me," she said. "I never knew I so much wanted to be a girl. Take me home and let show you what a perfect little sissy I can be for you!"

"Very nice, Nicole," Ms. Gilbert complimented her. "Please go gather your luggage while I speak with your mother privately." After Nicole had left, she turned to Marie. "You are pleased with the results?"

"Absolutely. She's divine."

"I understand you are re-marrying soon," the headmistress noted.

"Yes, just after the New Year. I expect Nicole to be my junior bridesmaid."

"I'm sure she'll be lovely. Tell me, have you thought about postponing your wedding by a few months?" Ms. Gilbert asked.

"No...why?"

"Perhaps you'd like to have your fiance visit the Academy?" Marie looked confused. "Haven't you heard of our adult extension courses?" Ms. Gilbert said, pulling out a brochure.


THE END

New outfit, new pictures

I bought a new outfit today. It's a two-piece ensemble, with a belted tunic in a black-red-and-white pattern over a white underblouse and a black skirt. To go with it, I got a pair of red peep-toe pumps with a three-inch heel.


FTR, the ensemble was found at Value City; the shoes, once again, at Target. In my shopping, I also explored Burlington Coat Factory and found a couple of cute skirt suits. But buying anything more will wait until I take the next step, as outlined below.

Sometime soon, I'm going to explore getting a corset to improve the look of my figure. I'm never going to get back the look I had when I was 140 lbs., but I can certainly manage to look less "matronly". That will mean the skirts I've already bought will be too big in the waist, but I may be able to get them taken in.

One more thing--I did something today I haven't done in decades. After the photo session, I retreated to the bedroom, lay down, hiked up my skirt, pushed aside my panties, and actually jerked off in full female regalia.

I've said I was feeling a new sexual urge to dress and guess this proves it.

Ms. Gilbert's Academy, Part 2

November 8:

The new report and letter had arrived. Marie opened it, eager to read more of her son's progress to becoming her daughter.

Dear Mrs. Anderson:

Nicole is moving along nicely in her transformation. She now completely accepts herself as feminine, although she retains--as you requested--full knowledge of her past as a male and full recognition of her humiliated state.

She has reached the stage we at the Academy call "the satisfied sissy." Many of our students' mothers prefer to have their boy-girls remain at this level of transformation permanently. Please inform me as soon as possible whether you want Nicole to remain in this delightfully simpering state or progress to the next level.

Sincerely,

Elizabeth Gilbert
Headmistress

The progress report merely stated--in formal numbers and percentages--what Ms. Gilbert's letter had already told her. Marie quickly opened the other envelope, the one she knew would include a photo of her transformed child and Nicole's own evaluation of her advancing femininity.

Mommy Dearest:

I am
so delighted now that you chose Ms. Gilbert's Academy for me! I revel in the frilly, feminine, lacy clothes they give me to wear. I love to make up my face every morning!

Still, I can't help but shudder every time someone from outside the school sees me. I just know they know that I am not the girl I pretend to be. After all, most girls my age would not wear this strange combination of lacy party dress and sexy hose and heels.

Dr. Madchenmacher continues to counsel me, using those strange sleep-inducing words and tones of hers. I remember them all, in some way, even though I can never recall precisely what she says. I went to her just last week, concerned about the way my legs looked and the way I wobbled in the six-inch heels they now make me wear. The doctor showed me her pendant and said, "Lovely to look at," and like all the times before, I stopped hearing her words but felt only the force of her personality, willing me to be and feel what she wanted.

She woke me sometime later, and I looked at my long legs, covered in their sheer nylons, perched on the stiletto heels, and I sighed. This is how I want my legs to look, I thought. I curtseyed to the doctor and left, mincing happily away, no longer the least bit unsteady on the pencil-thin heels.

When will you come for a visit, Mommy?

Your loving sissy,

Marie closed the letter and put away the picture. Time to call Ms. Gilbert to give her the final instructions for Nicole.


Conclusion to come

Ms. Gilbert's Academy

October 5:
Marie Anderson tore open the manila envelope and hungrily
read the cover letter. The letterhead read:

Ms. Gilbert's Academy
A Co-ed Facility for the Feminine Arts

She smiled at the thought of what that meant as she turned to the body of the letter.

Dear Mrs. Anderson:

Enclosed is a report on Nicole's progress here at the Academy. It includes two photographs, one of her initial make-up session, and a second of her first semi-feminization. Also in this package is Nicole's first letter home, describing her time here and her reactions. You will receive a package like this every month, as we discussed when you enrolled your boy-girl.

Sincerely,

Elizabeth Gilbert
Headmistress

Marie opened the progress report. It indicated that Nicole was adapting well to the school's all-female environment. "All-female," Marie thought. "That's an understatement. 'Hyper-feminine' would be a better term." She had top marks in her all academic subjects but, more important as far as Marie was concerned, she was getting high grades in all parts of the "sissy adjustment" program as well.

Now she turned to the third part of the package. In a separate envelope were Nicole's letter and the photos.

Dearest Mother:

I still don't understand why you want me to attend this weird school. Have you any idea what they teach here? Or the methods they use?

The evening you left me, Ms. Gilbert and another woman came to my dorm room. Ms. Gilbert introduced her as Dr. Madchenmacher. They escorted me to a strange room, filled with screens, lights and speakers. The doctor strapped me down to a padded couch, pulled out a strange jewel on a chain, and began to speak to me softly in her German-accented voice. "Watch the pendant, Nicholas," she said. "See how it glows softly in the light. Let the light fill your eyes, fill your mind. Drift slowly with the pendant...." She continued that way for several minutes and eventually, I fell asleep.

When I awoke, I knew something was different. I was no longer strapped to the couch, but was standing before a covered mirror. Ms. Gilbert and the doctor stood on either side, holding the cover to the mirror. "Lovely to look at," the doctor said, and they pulled the cover off.

I beheld my image--still in my suit, but my face was much changed: My eyes were made up to appear bigger, my lashes dark and long. My cheeks had been colored to appear flushed, my lips were moist and pink. I realized that, in face anyway, I no longer looked like a ten-year-old boy, but like a ten-year-old girl made up for a pageant.

Strangely, this didn't bother me. Indeed, I adored my new appearance. "Yes, Nicole," Ms. Gilbert said, "this is the new you. You will look this way from now on...and there will be other changes as well!"

Marie scanned through the next several pages, which were merely descriptions of normal academic classes and meals. She wasn't interested in that--she wanted to know more about her son's transformation.

The last page continued the story:

Just this morning, Dr. Madchenmacher walked into my room without knocking (the staff here never knocks) and interrupted my studying. She pulled out the pendant and said, "Delightful to see." I don't remember anything else from that point until I awoke in what appeared to be a costume room. I was surrounded by a vast range of girl's clothing. "Pick out what you'd like to wear for your new portrait, Nicole," she said.

I shouldn't have wanted to wear any of this stuff, Mother. But I was drawn to a pink tank top and a pair of denim cutoffs. I realized they would make my long, bare legs look sexy and attractive, especially when I added the black sandals with the six-inch blocky heels. I longed to wear these things and soon I did.

This was followed by a series of photo sessions, always with me posed provocatively...more provocatively than any girl my age should be seen. But I reveled in it. I loved it!

Mother--they are making me into a girl, I think.

Your loving son (I think),

Marie folded the letter and put it back in the package. She eagerly awaited next month's report.

More to come

Poll Results

No surprises here. Most of you want more of my fiction. Your wish is my command. Look for another story to start appearing here later today.

I'll still be periodically documenting my life and linking to interesting stuff I find on line, of course.

Androgynous Outfits

In furtherance of my exploration of my androgynous sissy side over at D+X, I've designed some suitable outfits (it's tough to find this stuff on line--everything's either too frilly or not obvious enough).

Here are a couple of examples:



Look for more here, with others to come soon.

Miscellaneous Ramblings

At the right you'll see a new link added--Sissy Humiliation. I found this one as a link from Transvestite Faggotry Addict...and it seems to be closely related to a recent topic here--the experience of humiliation by being semi-sissified.

BTW, take a look at that blog and several other links, like From Wingtips to Slingbacks. Seem familiar? Isn't it interesting that so many CD/TV/TG blogs on blogspot have chosen this same design? Almost makes me think I should choose another one, just to be different.

Lastly, I've put a poll back on the site--this one directly related to the content of the blog. I'd really appreciate some feedback.

Andro Sissy

As I noted in an earlier post, I get a real buzz from the idea of being dressed as an obvious male in sissy-ish, but not truly female clothes--short shorts, tight jeans, patent leather shoes with bows or buckles, bows on satin shirts, etc.

It's tough to find photographs of men in such outfits, but I have found some artwork that gives an idea of the image I'm thinking of.

I just created a new identity for myself over at D+X Institute to explore this particular fetish a little further.

For more images of this kind, check out my album.

A Surprising Need

As most regular readers know, at the time I began this blog, I had not actively dressed in female clothes for nearly 30 years. But this fall, I cautiously began exploring cding again--starting with panties and hose, then heels, and finally a full outfit, complete with mask (to hide a beard) and wig.

As the holidays approached, for a variety of reasons, I had to put this new phase of my life on hold...and it's now been three weeks since the last time I dressed. Amazingly, I find myself craving to do it again, wishing for the day when I can dress to come (it's about two weeks away, still).

Amazing, I say, because I went three decades without feeling this need this way. I don't know why getting back into it now has created such an overwhelming desire to continue. I'm now exploring getting a corset and more clothes and shoes.

Have I become an obsessive sissy?