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Enforced feminization, this is real, not a story !
Feminized husbands are so much more:
Mind Mistress, aka Mistress Linda is a therapist, erotic mind controller, ericksonian hypnotist and brainwashing expert for hire. Fully trained in:
To keep his pathetic male mind, and be forced to act and dress as a female. He will be a mere passenger, helplessly trapped in his sissified body, and can be made to serve as a maid, or any other activity you choose. Here is the specific programming that comes in the complete package:
The preferred method for this is deep hypnotic programming, using the deepest trances to bypass his free will and access the most receptive parts of his brain. To fill his subconscious mind with layer upon layer of hypnotic commands it must obey, erase knowledge of how to behave as a male, and replace it with dozens of rules of feminine behavior which his deep mind must obey, far beyond the reach of his conscious mind. In effect, this is like trapping his mind in the body of a robot, one that is programmed to act and feel like a female, whether he likes it or not. His choices will be limited by his programming. Does he prefer to wear the red or the black high heels with that dress?
Ethical note: Sissy programming is really a form of torture, and quite a cruel one at that. I feel it should be reserved for willing masochists, and the men who truly deserve it, such as rapists, child molesters and wife beaters. Partial sissy programming is recommended for lesser offenses. Options that can be added:
She must clean, she must cook. She must wear her pretty maid outfit. Ironing makes her feels soooo hot! Dust is the enemy, and she will clean till she drops if you don’t stop her.
She needs her mommy, cries whenever upset, sucks her thumb almost constantly, and has no bladder or bowel control (therefore always needing a diaper).
She must obey her mommy, wear frilly dresses, and cry when she’s upset.
She loves to chat on the phone and giggle about boys! Great for shopping trips, pajama parties and just hanging out.
She craves cock. In fact, she’s addicted to it. The sight of one, or the slightest taste of cum sends her into a feeding frenzy, a terrible erotic hunger that can only be satisfied by sucking off a guy and swallowing or licking every drop of cum. It starts out as a weekly need, but soon grows into an obsession for yummy cocks of all shapes and sizes, and thinking only of how to get more. You can set her feeding schedule, knowing that if you wait 3 days to feed her instead of a week, she will then need cum every three days for the rest of her life. Making “her” suck two cocks in a row is a great way to turn him into a sissy whore, and make some extra cash.
Very simply, it won’t go up. Ever. End of story.
He is programmed to get fucked in his male pussy as much as he can, and try to seduce any man he can into fucking him. Without a cock inside, he feels empty and worthless, and so needs to regularly penetrate himself with a dildo, or wear a butt plug to avoid the terrible feelings of emptiness.
He can only behave as a dog, walking on all fours, whining or barking, raising his ass to be penetrated whenever petted, and licking whatever naked flesh is exposed, with a preference for ass. He can only eat and drink from handouts and bowls on the floor, and sleeps only on a carpet.
Multiple programming allows you to switch your sissy from one option to another, with simple verbal commands, keyed to your voice only. The programming of your sissy is then reinforced every day by being forced to listen to a hypnotic conditioning tape or CD, custom made to reinforce his feminized conditioning, and ensuring it never fades.
A regular maintenance session is recommended every month for the first year, every three months for the second year, and every six months thereafter. Make sure your will includes instructions for your sissy to be sent to the hypnotist for reprogramming and re-assignment to another Mistress. Too many pets end up in shelters each year through lack of such planning. The goal, we must remember, is to keep him trapped into being a sissy until the day he dies.
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A night out results in triggers unleashed for this sissy.
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It had taken six months to get to this point. As I stepped out of the bathroom, I caught sight of myself in the full-length mirror, and shivered. I was shaved below the eyebrows, hairless and smooth, except for a cute landing strip above my locked chastity cage. Other than the cage, I looked like a thoroughly average 21 year old boy, my small and skinny frame only accentuated by some slight curves in my ass and legs that I had worked on for the last couple of months.
It had started with porn, as I imagine it always does. First came the vanilla stuff, 18-year-old blonde pornstars being fucked silly by studs with gigantic rods. Then one day when browsing, I'd seen a pornstar squirming desperately as she was railed against a wall. I noticed that she had a little something 'extra', and the twist that this gorgeous babe had a cock made me cum twice as hard as I normally did. After that, my tastes changed to exclusively trans and crossdressing porn, and then I had discovered sissy hypnosis. It hit my mind like an erotic bombshell.
I hadn't had a girlfriend by that point, and my school days had been full of mediocrity and perfectionist parenting. I'd been ignored by the female sex my entire life, and suddenly my head was bombarded by the devastatingly powerful experience that is sissy hypno. Lights, flashing images, quick cuts from one beautiful girl to the next, jacking up arousal through novelty and abusing the lowered defences that come from being turned on to get into my brain. I was hooked. It seemed like in no time at all, 'fuck the girl' turned into 'get fucked like a girl', and 'get a girlfriend' turned into 'be a girl'...
And so, six months ago in April when I finally moved out from my parents on my own, I was faced with the lethal combination that is complete freedom to do as I please, and watching sissy hypno every day. It had moved on from just the quick cuts - I listened to sissy hypno before bed and as I slept, and it was the first thing I wanted to do when I woke up. I was addicted.
Many of the hypnos implanted triggers - one hypno in particular above the rest. It was called 'Bambi Sleep'. It was wickedly subversive and powerful, and I'd zoned out for hours and even days listening to it. The triggers it implanted in me were many and they were deep. Luckily, none the phrases came up too often in waking life - although once my friend had mentioned the Disney film 'Bambi', and I'd felt compelled to excuse myself and masturbate as soon as possible.
My new found freedom culminated in several horny online shopping sprees - first the chastity cage, then panties, lingerie, bodystockings, fishnets, bras, chokers...I spent a fair chunk of my student loan. To compensate, my eating habits adjusted to two meals of pasta or noodles per day. When I was horny - which was now all the time - I just wasn't hungry. I had never been the biggest guy around, but after a couple of months I was skinny as a rail.
The chastity cage had sealed the deal. Wearing it completely changed both my mindset and my behavior. It extended what had previously been shameful jerking in front of a computer to the rest of my waking life. There is something subversively powerful about the way it prevents erections and normal masturbation, and yet never allows you to forget that you are wearing it. It's the ultimate act of masochism - making yourself be horny but never allowing yourself release. It made me feel so submissive, and so girly! I began shaving, wearing panties all the time, painting my toenails. My collection of clothes began to be augmented with dresses, skirts and blouses. I began to fantasise about going out dressed up. I spent hours watching makeup tutorials, and trying to do squats in my room to build up my butt wearing leggings. Of course, I had no keyholder, so nothing prevented me from taking it off at the end of everyday and pathetically jerking my semi-erect penis. But still, I was so ready to pop that I always came before I was fully hard, and as a result, I hadn't had a full erection since March.
But a new idea - of going out dressed as a girl - had begun to take hold in my brain. I'd been out wearing my cage before, but only ever dressed as a boy (except for the panties). I'd been handed a flyer in the city center the week previously about a dress-up club night on Halloween, and it had planted the seed in my brain. What better time to try my first time out than on Halloween? Hell, if I wasn't crossdressing I would be in the minority surely - loads of guys dressed up as girls for Halloween right?
I still told myself I was straight - this was all just fun because of the sissy porn right? After I came, the standard waves of guilt overcame me, and I came close to throwing it all away sometimes. I had had dreams of losing my virginity finally at University, and I knew that all of this stuff was not helping. I told myself that this Halloween would be the culmination of everything, this was the farthest I would ever take it. I wasn't gay, I told myself, so I wasn't going to do all the cock sucking and fucking like in all the hypno videos. Yeah they made me cum hard and fast, but I wouldn't do that in real life right? I just liked dressing up as a girl and getting off - that didn't make me gay.
And so, this had all resulted in the plan tonight. I was going to go out as a girl. I shivered at the very idea, wondering if I should back out, but I was fairly invested at that point. I'd already painted my nails red and shaped my eyebrows. I'd been wearing my cage for three days now - there was no need of my dick tonight! It was funny, I had reflected to myself, eight months ago I was obsessed with losing my virginity. And now I was breaking my own record for chastity before a night out! As I had walked to the shower, the padlock had tinkled slightly against the cage body, causing a wave of pleasure rush through me.
Now smooth and hairless, I tore my eyes away from the cage, and walked slowly over to my bed, the padlock clicking as I moved. My clothes were all laid out, ready and waiting. First I slipped on my favorite pair of panties, the most pink and girly I had been able to find - I guess the sissy hypno had got to me a little, I conceded. Hipster cut, with black lace trim, I pulled them up my frictionless legs and over my constrained bulge. They pulled into my ass nicely. Next I put on on my sheer black pantyhose, the fabric gliding up my smooth legs. I rolled up one leg and then the other, before pulling them over my pink panties.
I snapped on a pink bra to match, put in some breast forms, and then considered the main outfit. As it was Halloween, I had figured I couldn't just 'go out like a woman', so I had picked 1950's housewife as my costume. I slipped the polka dot halter neck red-and-black mini dress off of the hanger and stepped into it. I tugged it over my bra and pulled it over my head. The dress fit perfectly, pulling in at my waist before billowing out in a perfect circle around my stocking-clad legs.
Next, I moved over to the bathroom mirror. Everything was laid out in front of me: first went the foundation, then the powder. I stuck on some false eyelashes, before moving on to my mouth. I applied a coat of deep, ruby red lipstick to match the dress. Finally, I slipped on a hairnet and an perfectly coiffed blonde wig.
I turned around, stepped into my beautiful 3" heels, and walked over to the floor-length mirror in the corner of my small one-room apartment. The image of 50's perfection stared back at me - a cute, wicked red mouth, innocent blue eyes, ditsy blonde hair and a perfect dress. My constrained penis...well, clit I guess (clit at this point seemed more appropriate than penis) twitched in my cage. I was a smoking 10/10, my billowing dress revealing a hint of my lower thigh but hiding my straining secret. I was a blonde bombshell who wouldn't look out of place as a pinup girl. I was sexy, desirable, looking soft and fuckable. I was ready to go out!
The bar was loud, dark and crowded. I nervously tottered in, and I swore that everyone was looking at me. "Look at that sissy go," I imagined they were saying to one another, "what a slut!". I felt my cage with every step, and hoped like crazy no one could see it. What was I doing!
Of course, it's doubtful anyone was actually paying me that much attention, I said to myself. The club was full of weird and wonderful costumes worn by all persons of indeterminate gender, and there was always another fancy dress look to ogle. I saw Tinkerbell, a couple of zombies, a pilot, three cat girls and a whole host of costumes besides. And I look better than all of them, girls and boys, I thought to myself, savoring a small thrill of pride.
I knew I looked stunning, and I was surprised at the warm glow of happiness I felt every time I noticed someone checking me out. Three times on the short walk to the bar I noticed a person giving me the once over. I'd practiced with the heels over the last week, but I still felt a little unsteady. I self-consciously stuck out my ass a little, and tried to balance with my hips, which meant that I swayed from side to side as I walked like a model on a catwalk.
I finally made it to the bar, gratefully grabbing the edge to steady myself, between a girl dressed up as a slutty cat and a generic caveman.
"Can I buy you a drink?," I heard a voice over the blaring music.
I turned, and looked up at the questioner. Even wearing my heels he towered over me - a tall man in a double-breasted pilot's uniform. I was small at 5'5 without them, and this guy must have been at least 6'3. He smiled, and doffed his Captain's hat.
"You're very convincing. The only giveaway was your walk, you need more practice. Otherwise, you're a very good girl. Let me treat you like one - can I buy you a drink?"
I smiled back demurely, and dipped my head in a nod, blushing under my foundation. His smile broadened, and he stepped up closer, his hand lightly touching my back. When he called me a 'good girl', I shivered, and I felt a movement in my cage. That was a hypno trigger! Dammit!
"Perfect - don't talk. Let's keep the illusion going for everyone else. It can be our...little secret."
I blushed again, intimately aware that he was insinuating the size of my pe- no. My clitty. He ordered three double shots of rum cream & whiskey, and a diet coke. He paid, and picked up the coke as the harassed barman poured the shots. He slid his hand from the small of my back to my opposite hip.
I was feeling slightly worried - were those shots for me? Or for both of us? I stared at the shots - the rum cream gave all three of them the appearance of a shot glass full of cum. The sissy hypno that I had been watching was tickling my subconsciousness, interacting with the horniness from the chastity cage. I hope those are all for me, I thought. No I don't!
He turned his face toward my ear."Now, like most crossdressers, I imagine you're straight - don't worry! I believe you," he whispered in my ear. "But tonight, you're just playing the girl - 1950's housewife if I'm not mistaken. Is that right?"
I nodded again, feeling very hot as he pressed up from behind me, still acutely away of his left hand on my hip. He set his drink down and moved his right hand to my right hip.
"That's okay," he continued in my ear, "lots of crossdressers come out on Halloween, it's the perfect time! But I think you're a bit different. You've made the classic mistake you see- you've put so much effort in, and it's a bit of a giveaway. That, and you look like Bambi in the headlights!"
I gave a small gasp and I felt my cage gave another little twitch when he mentioned Bambi. He must know! How much does he know, or guess - was it a coincidence
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