Cross-D-R: The Sissy Ranch, part two

The next morning, Honeypie awoke in his cabin, feeling content, happy, and incredibly aroused. His hands strayed to his sissy-cock and began to stroke it, feeling it grow. But, as he neared the brink of orgasm, something stopped him—an inner voice that told him he must never spurt cock-cream without the permission of one of the ranch staff.

He got up, and changed into one of the outfits left for him. There was a sheer blouse, a suede vest, a plaid skirt with a ruffle and a split up the front, boots with six-inch heels, and—of course—a Stetson. He practiced walking and posing in his new cowgirl attire, realizing that every glimpse of himself in the mirror only heightened his arousal and his desire to submit to some lovely dominatrix. Once dressed, Honeypie went to the dining hall for breakfast. There, he saw that everyone was dressed in Western gear, but with subtle differences.

The guests were all in very feminine versions—skirts, ruffles, high-heeled boots (some even had bare midriffs)—but the staff were in calico shirts and jeans, with standard cowboy boots. There was no doubt as to which group was in charge. Carla and Astra were seated together and they called him to their table.

“Wow, Honeypie…you’re quite the little filly,” Astra said, smiling. She glanced at his legs, partially revealed by the split in his skirt. “All set for riding, too, I see—though I think you’ll look very girly if you go side-saddle.”

“But there’s some other things you need to do first,” Carla noted. “Your second orientation session is scheduled for right after breakfast, so finish eating and I’ll take you over to the training center.”

So it was that, by nine o’clock, Honeypie was again bound into the training chair, with the mesmerizing scent in the air, as he watched another mind-altering video presentation. “Welcome back,” said the image of Vera Demanden. “Today we will focus on voice and attitude. Trying as hard as you can imitate what you hear, repeat: I am a silly, simpering, submissive sissy.”

“I am a silly, simpering, submissive sissy,” Honeypie responded…and a mild shock went through him.

“Not close enough,” the training program said. “Again: I am a silly, simpering, submissive sissy.”

Trying his best to imitate the girlish tones of the program, Honeypie repeated, “I am a silly, simpering, submissive sissy….” and received another shock.

It went on like that for several hours, until Honeypie’s voice and tone were as feminine and gentle as the program’s. “Very good,” the program complimented him. “You will speak that way at all times, from now on.” And the bonds holding him to the chair snapped loose and Carla re-entered the room.

On seeing her, Honeypie immediately rose to his feet and curtseyed, saying, in that same sweet voice, “I am a silly, simpering, submissive sissy, Ms. Carla. How may I assist you?”

Carla smiled. “Follow me to the stables, Honeypie….it’s time you learned how a sissy rides….and is ridden.”

At the stables, they found mounts already prepared—Carla’s a spirited steed with a standard Western saddle, Honeypie’s a gentle mare fitted out with a side saddle. The groom, a pretty girl in a short fringed skirt, assisted Honeypie to mount. “Open the front of that lovely skirt,” Carla advised. “Let’s see those gorgeous gams of yours we ride.”

Honeypie did as instructed, his long legs fully revealed. Carla took the reins of his horse and led him to the corral. “Now, take it easy your first time, dear…” she said as she handed him the reins and whispered to the horse, “Giddyap”. The mare started off at a gentle canter as Honeypie grew used to the bounce of its movements and learned how to maintain her balance. After a few turns around the corral, Carla called the groom over to help Honeypie dismount.

“It’s time for your second riding lesson, Honeypie,” Carla said, as she led him to a secluded part of the stable.

“Lay down in the hay,” she directed him, “on your back.” She slid off her jeans and panties, and Honeypie gasped at the sight of her naked pussy. She sat on his chest, her pussy still clearly visible and said, “Take a deep breath….”

He did so and immediately recognized that same intoxicating, mesmerizing aroma from the training room and he drifted into a light trance. “That’s right, Honeypie, that aroma will always send you drifting into trance,” Carla said, as she slid up his torso and centered her pussy over his face. “Now, taste my pussy and fall further into the power of feminine dominance.” She began rocking on his face, letting his lips and tongue bring her to arousal. “Feel me ride you like a pony,” she said, grunting a bit as her orgasm approached. “I will ride you until I am quite satisfied and you completely submit to your new life.”

Fifteen minutes later, Carla was writhing from her third orgasm, and Honeypie had flooded his panties with cock-cream. Carla stood and said, “That concludes your riding lessons. Now, go clean up for dinner.”

That evening, as dinner was ending, an announcement came over the loudspeaker. “Will Miss Honeypie please report to Suite 001 in the staff building….”

A buzz went through the room among the more experienced girls. “Suite 001…what has he done? Is he being punished? Rewarded?” Honeypie stood and excused himself, asking directions to the staff building.

“It’s the big house on the hill,” one of the staff members informed him. “And Suite 001 is on the top floor, right in front.” She smiled secretively as she spoke.

He made his way to that big house, clearly the headquarters for the ranch. As he entered, it was clear he was expected, since the staff indicated for him to go up the wide, winding staircase to the top floor. He reached that landing and see there was only one door there, marked Suite 001. He knocked and a voice from within said, “Come right in, Honeypie.” He entered and saw a beautiful middle-aged woman, in her own version of the Western wear everyone wore at the ranch. She rose from her seat and came to him, offering her hand. “I am Vera Demanden. I own Cross-D-R.”

Honeypie curtseyed as he took her hand and kissed it. She smiled and said, “Sweetly done…you must be a quick learner since you’ve scarcely been here two days.” She resumed her seat and gestured for Honeypie to take the one opposite her. “There are certain of our guests I keep an eye on…and I’ve been watching you since you first applied to come here. I suspect you are very special.”

Honeypie blushed. “Special, Ms. Demanden? How do you mean?” he asked.

“You are a natural submissive,” she replied. “We get very few of those. Most of our guests are sent here by their wives, mothers, or fiances…and it takes a lot to remake them into the simpering sissies you have seen around you since you arrived. You fell into the routine almost upon arrival…the training we have done has merely reinforced your innate submission and femininity.”

Ms. Demanden pressed a button on her desk and the room filled with that special odor of feminine arousal. Honeypie took a deep breath and his eyes closed. “Ah, you recognize that aroma? Whenever you experience that scent you will sink into an erotic trance in which your mind becomes an open book upon which we can write. We have already altered the way in which you become aroused and the way in which you want to have sex. In this final session, before I make you a permanent part of our community, I will alter the way you think of yourself.”

She turned on her big-screen TV, directly in front of Honeypie. It filled with the same kind of hypnotic images and phrases he remembered from the training room, but this time the accompanying voice was Ms. Demanden, live and present. “You still think of yourself as male, don’t you? As a man who likes to wear girlish things?”

“Yes, Ms. Demanden,” he murmured.

“You are not male…not anymore. But neither are you female,” she told him. “You are a sissy…a submissive who exists between the two genders—male in body, but female In mind and behavior. Not transgender, either—you have no interest in losing your male attributes. A sissy is a very special thing—a lovely toy for the women in its life, a doll with wonderful…attachments…completely under the control of the dominant women around it.”

“A toy, a doll…” Honeypie murmured in agreement.

“You will stay here as our plaything, to be used by staff and select guests,” Ms. Demanden continued. “I’m sure you will enjoy your new life as the premier feature of our sissy ranch!”

THE END