Sissy Uncovered, Conclusion

Part Five:

Two months later.

I have now been through eight sessions in what I have come to call the “conditioning chair.” There is hardly anything of the male me left. My skin is soft, smooth and pink; I have no hair below my eyebrows except the neat triangle at my crotch; my little titties have developed into cute A cups with constantly aroused nipples. Speaking of constantly aroused, the buttplug in my ass-pussy keeps my sissy-cock always stimulated.
My hair has been cut into a feminine pixie style and frosted to boot. I wear mascara and pink lipgloss at all times. I have no overtly male clothes left—my work attire consists of man-tailored blouses in pastel shades (and, yes, they button the “wrong” way), tight pants with side or back zippers that end above my ankles, and girls’ flats in a variety of patent leather colors, with bows or buckles on them.

I move in a feminine way…mincing steps, with my arms bent at the elbow. I sit with my knees together and my ankles crossed. No observer can miss the fact that I am a submissive sissy now.

Last Saturday, I went to my Mistresses’ home and discovered they were gone! The house was empty, except for one item: the conditioning chair! There was a note on it: “Use this to your heart’s delight, sissy…we can always make another.” I hired a mover to take it to my place.

I wonder where they have gone. Every time I see an effeminate young man, I think, “My Mistresses have a new submissive,” and imagine him going through the same process I did. I hope someday they will summon all of us to a “reunion”.

Once a week, I subject myself to the conditioning chair. I do not want to return to my old life. I long for a Mistress again…I curtsey to every woman I meet, hoping she will be the One. Today, one woman smiled at me and handed me her card: “Mistress Lola Venus,” it said. I blushed and blew her a kiss.

THE END