Sissy Uncovered, Part Four

Part Four:

I had great difficulty deciding what to wear to my next visit with my Mistresses.  After the very kinky outfit they had sent me home in last week, I was confused. Did they want me to be a frilly sissy? Or a sexy wanton? I finally decided to go very conventional: a white man-tailored blouse and a tight black pencil skirt. My one concession to their previous whims was to wear the seven-inch heels they had provided the week before. I did my make-up, combed my hair into its best feminine look, threw on a trench coat and headed out.

I rang the doorbell and waited nervously. What would my three dommes have planned this week? Today, Julie answered the door. “Take off the coat,” she ordered. I complied, revealing my outfit. “Ah, the sexy secretary!” she exclaimed. “Come in…you know where to go!”

I minced in over the threshold and made my way to the playroom. But something had changed. The bed on which I had been milked in my previous visits was gone, replaced by a straight-back chair with a lot of strange apparatus around it. Holly and Tracy stood on either side of it. “Off with the clothes, sissy,” Holly said. I obeyed and stood before them completely naked.

“Sit!” Tracy ordered and I did so. Immediately, I felt one of the unusual features of the chair—there was a large dildo in the center of the seat, already lubed, and it slid easily into my ass-pussy. Holly and Tracy strapped me into the chair, securing my arms, my legs, and even my head to an immovable position. Julie then attached a pair of strange cups to my nipples, and slid a metal cover over my already erect sissy-cock. There was a tube attached to the end of that cover that led to a small container at the side of the chair. Finally, she lowered a pair of headphones over my ears and rolled a large-screen TV in front of me. With my head locked in position, it filled my vision completely.

I heard Holly’s voice through the headphones. “Your weekly milking will now be combined with mental conditioning. Watch the screen…” It lit up with swirling colors that captured my attention as a strange not-quite-musical sound came through the headphones. In time, I found myself drifting into a weird mental state. Was I being hypnotized? I didn’t know and soon didn’t care, as the other devices began to stimulate my sissy-cock, my nipples, and my ass-pussy.

Were there words in the sounds I heard? Were there words and images on the screen? My mind only half-registered them consciously. I felt my sissy-cock spurt…and spurt again…and again…and felt less and less masculine with each eruption. Something was making me feel entirely feminine and soft and submissive. Was this the conditioning my Mistresses had mentioned?

I have no idea how long the treatment lasted. But, in time, the screen faded to black, the headphones went silent, and the stimulation of all my erotic zones subsided. My Mistresses released me from my unusual bondage and led me to the bathroom. “It’s time for our sissy to be feminine from the skin out,” Tracy announced. She produced a razor and removed the hair from my legs and underarms, and trimmed my pubic hair to a neat triangle. She guided me into the shower and covered me in a pink foam. I felt it melt away the remaining stubble and then she turned on the shower and rinsed me of the residue.

“Step out,” said Julie. I obeyed, and she began to rub and massage my skin with oils and other treatments. In a short time, I had a soft pink skin, as feminine as any centerfold. “You will undergo this treatment every week until we have completely emasculated you in body and mind,” she explained.

I was led into the bedroom to the vanity. Tracy began her work on my face. By the end, I was the image of a young woman, soft and pretty and absolutely feminine in appearance. Holly produced my new clothes:  a matching bra, panties and garterbelt in pink satin; a satin blouse in lavender; another tight pencil skirt in deep purple. My hose were old-fashioned seamed stockings and my shoes were open-toed platform pumps.

The final touch was a brunette wig in a decidedly 1940s style. I stood before the mirror…I looked like a teenager of the WW2 era, ready for a date. And I felt like one! Was this the result of the conditioning? “Go home, just as you are, sissy,” Holly said. “Next week, come back in an outfit of your own choosing, and we’ll see what we can do with you then.”

MORE TO COME