Two Years To The Day!

Wow!  Two years to the day since last I updated things here.  Yikes!  Well, I haven’t been in a coma over the past two years and I have still been writing.  I just didn’t get ‘round to posting my creations here.  Now I’ve taken care of that!  So, all my erotica is current here.

I’ve also gotten more into captioning over on Deviant Art so I’ll be to posting those here too!

A bit annoyingly however, I’m getting “warning” messages from Blogger about “community guidelines” and such crap.  Their system seems both automated and stupid.  And slow.  But the automatic appeal seems to be working thus far.  It’s odd however when it flags a tale that’s been up for fifteen years.

Anyway, look for more to come!

Fran

Milking Sissy

A gurl's dreams and her Master's desires combine in a truly wonderful and rather extreme way. Nothing to fear for her as she always wanted this for herself and the voices her Master plays into her ears just confirms all that, right? What she eventually becomes leaves her wonderfully feminized and gorgeously submissive with a beautiful set of very ample breasts that are overflowing with their milk. Milk that has some truly wonderful properties to it. What more could a gurl want in life than to have found a strong, and dominant man who shapes her into the vision of a submissive feminized milking sissy she always yearned to be?

Milking Sissy

The bondage wasn't necessary.  The straps are there really as more of a ritual and now something I took comfort in due to its familiarity.  My make up wasn't necessary either.  Well, not really.  But I no longer face the day without having at least some lipstick on.  Thanks to what my Master had tattooed, I usually don't need much more than that.  When it's time for my milking however, I like to make sure I'm as pretty as I can be.  Especially if my Master decides to make use of me while I'm being pumped.  I love that.

The milking cup on my beautifully shrunken sissy clitty isn't really necessary either.  It's been a long time since anything came out of that other than my watery precum.  But that too is there out of ritual and familiarity.  The gentle suction though does feel nice.

What feels heavenly though - aside from my Master's cock sliding past my collagen-puffed lips or filling my sissy ass, that is - is when the pumps start running and my milk lets down.  I've been so pickled with all the hormones and lactating drugs for so long I can hardly remember a time back when my breasts weren't full to the point of bursting.  It's gotten to the point he's putting me here in the milking stall twice a day.  Recently, he's been talking about upping my dosages to get me milking three times a day!  I don't know if I could stand the bliss from that.  I sure am willing to try it.  I love pleasing my Master.  In any way he wants of me and especially if he wants me to yield that much milk, then I will!

The Gift

A sissy sextoy would make such a lovely gift.  And being a sissy sextoy is such a lovely gift as well.  Combine the two and…

(This is a quick little fantasy piece I wrote some years ago as an actual gift to an individual I'd chatted with. We both "met" online in the Second Life online virtual world where we shared our TG transformation fantasies.)

~~~~~~~~~~

The Gift

I shift my weight around again.  I'm not uncomfortable in this position but nor am I comfortable either.  I wish I could see what was going on around me.  Or hear what was going on.  The only thing I can see are the images being played on the goggles strapped over my eyes.  The only thing I can hear is the voice of my master.

The images are of beautiful cocks and handsome men and beautiful tgurls pleasing those cocks and those men.  Over and over and over.  My master's picture is among the images.  My picture is among the images.  There are too many other men included for me to pick out any single one for me to figure him as my man for this time.  There are women in the images to.  Women being served by beautiful tgurls, beautiful sissies, beautiful shemales.  I'm in those images to.  I'm also in the images of the tgurls serving all those sexy shemales as well.  All about service.  All about submission.

The headphones covering my ears are telling me that.  "Submit," "Serve," "Pleasure Your Superiors" my Master keeps telling me.  His voice is so wonderful.  So powerful.  So commanding.  So dominant.  Just hearing him speak turns me on.  Knowing that in my pleasing others I will be pleasing him turns me on as well. 

I yearn for my trip to be over soon.  Over so that I am "delivered."  Over so that my Master's "gift" is received.  For that is what I am now - a gift.  A gift all nicely packaged and ready to be received by whomever my Master has given me to.

It has been a while getting me to this point.  

Therapy - Part 5

Shelly's Therapy continues and becomes even more intense! Her first Special Encounter Therapy session was so good she now is having them regularly! Acting on her own free will, she begins feminizing herself even more. All this to prove that she is a normal, straight, heterosexual man and not some sort homo? But is all this really of her own free will? And what is she really proving? And how, exactly, is all this Therapy helping her with that?

Part 5 

Monday’s therapy session was nice.  Oh, I enjoyed it but I was hoping Doctor Wilson – my Doctor, my wonderful doctor and I’m so glad to have him as my doctor and I must follow all his instructions for my therapy to work – would tell me that my next Special Encounter Therapy session was to be that night.  Or maybe the next night.  Or the night after that.  But that it wouldn’t be until at least two weeks?  I was crestfallen.  I had to work to get a grip on my emotions over that bad news.  Doctor Wilson quickly put me down on my knees into the Power Dynamics Enhancement Position and had me focus on my breathing exercises.  Having my wonderful doctor’s manly cock pushing back and forth into my mouth always helps calm me and center my focus.  I can be such a silly, silly sissy gurl sometimes!  And my doctor is such a wonderful doctor.  He knows exactly how to handle such a silly, silly sissy gurl like me.

 

Instead, it was just the regular three times a week therapy sessions.  Doctor Wilson explained that Dr. Taylor needed time to assess the effectiveness of my participating in that Special Encounter Therapy session and then make room in his therapy schedule for me to be a part of it.  I still pouted at that.  But, my doctor is always right so I said I’d be ready for the next Special Encounter Therapy session as soon as he needed me to be!

 

I also asked Doctor Wilson about my breasts.  I’d been thinking a lot about how much more “effective” my therapy might be if it was closer to what I saw so many other sissies do – that is, to have actual breasts themselves.  Well, as “actual” as any breasts are in today’s world of breast implants being so common.  Not that I wanted to be like those actual sissies.  I wasn’t.  They were all gay and I’m straight.  It’s just that I had come to realize that breast forms and padded bras just got in the way too often.  And that, since the whole point of my therapy was to go ever deeper into my sissy dreams and fantasies in order to expose the underlying conditions which made them manifest – I was trying to repeat Doctor Wilson’s original explanation of his therapy approach there – and thus then cure them, wouldn’t having breast implants of my own be just the thing?  Wouldn’t having them help my therapy to cure me of my cross dressing urges?

 

Playing The Part - Chapter 7

Diana's fantasies and dreams become reality. Diana becomes a reality. Where does this leave Diana? Is she still just playing the part of Diana? Was she ever just playing that part? Can she even tell any more? Does she want to tell any more?

Day 558

It was a long and leisurely afternoon with Natalie.  We talked about what had taken place at the party and afterward.  She was patient with me as I tried to figure out what it all meant.  In particular, what I felt about her and how she’d shown me a side of her I was still trying to deal with.

“My dear girl,” she said, “I’m what you would call a ‘switch.’  That is, I enjoy dominating and I enjoy, at times, submitting.  I’m most often the domme – the top, the dominator, the one in charge.  But, there are times when I need to let go.  When I need someone else to be in charge for a while.  However brief that while may be.  Jayden and I go a long, long way back.  He ‘gets me’ in my needs.”

“And don’t you worry your pretty little head about my ‘switching’ on you.  That is not how the dynamics of our relationship work.  We’ve established that I am the dominant partner here and that is not going to change, my dear.  You have a submissive heart and that is one of the things I love about you.” She continued.

Playing the Part - Chapter 6

Diana gets invited to a party with Natalie and Jayden only it's Mistress Natalie and Master Jayden. Diana learns more about her dear Ms. Cambrai. And Diana learns more about herself in the process. Frightening things about herself and powerfully seductive things about herself as well.

Day 557:

Oh my!  Where to start?  I’m still reeling from it all.  Natalie showed me an entirely different side of herself.  I love it but was amazed to see it.  I’m flattered that she shared it with me.  It’s also helped with my perspective on things.  That, not to mention how ecstatic the whole experience has been.  I hope she invites me to another one of those parties.  I’m afraid that she will invite me to one of them too!  The idea of losing myself like I saw so many of the other people there lose themselves is a frightening one.  And one I simply can’t get out of my head as it turns me on so very, very much.

So, Natalie asked me to come over in the late afternoon so we could get ready for the party she was taking me to.  I was hoping for maybe and dinner at some quiet little place and then she and I could spend some quality time together we my worshiping her flower until she purred and then howled.  That and her holding me close like I love so much.

No, not this night.  She’d asked me to be sure I was super hairless and perfectly smooth before I showed up.  So, another trip to the spa on Tuesday.  It’s gotten actually quite fun heading over there.  As I’m sitting in the lounge waiting for my appointment I chat with the other ladies there.  They’ve no idea and I do nothing to dispel their assumptions.  I don’t know why, but I enjoy such “girl talk.”  And Greg, he’s such a sweetie, doesn’t bat an eye now when I’m there in all of Diana’s glory.  He is kind of cute too.  Nice perky little buns and, as Louann say, a “nice box” too.  Not as gorgeous as my leading man but, just the same, he cute in his own way.

Working the Club – Part Three

 Fran’s first night as a Pussy Girl working at the Pussy Galore Club.  No longer a lowly Pussy Boy, Fran now gets to “go upstairs” and “entertain” the Platinum club members.  She’s worked hard for this moment by becoming as sweetly soft and feminized as only a deeply submissive and wonderfully neutered tgurl fucktoy can be.  The question in her mind is if she’s up to it?  Does she have what it takes to be a Pussy Girl?  Can she take what it takes to be a Pussy Girl?

The ride up in the elevator seemed to take forever but it wasn’t any longer than the other times she’d ridden in it when working as part of the housekeeping crew for “upstairs” when she was still just a Pussy Boy.  She looked at herself in the mirror lining the walls of the elevator.  She’d come so far in just so short a span of time since she first started at the Pussy Galore Club.  She thought she was passable back then.  Her girlfriend / Mistress told her so.  The way guys would hit on her made it seem so.  But the way she looked now was so very, very different.  Now there was no way anyone could mistake her for being a boy.  Or being a man either, for that matter.  The time spent on the “girly juice” had done wonders for softening her features.  The tattooed makeup, the way her hair had grown out and how she could style it now.  Even her demeanor had changed as well.  Plus the time spent working as a Pussy Boy had helped shape her for this night.  She truly had come to yearn for this moment.  She knew what was expected.  It was perverse and decadent and could even be considered debasing – if she let it.

Therapy Part 3

 Dr. Wilson's cross dressing therapy treatment continues! Shelly, our favorite patient in the first two installments, relates how her therapy treatments have not only progressed but have gotten so advanced that she's now ready for her first first Special Encounter Therapy session!

My therapy to treat my cross dressing problem was working.  Well, more accurately, it was therapy to help me address my sexuality issues my cross dressing was causing.  I’d been undergoing treatment by Doctor Wilson for over a year now and every day and in every way I making fantastic progress.  Doctor Wilson assured me of this in every therapy session.

 

The way he smiled at me as he looked down at me as I knelt in the Power Dynamics Enhancement Position before him and he filled my mouth with his wonderful cock assured me that my therapy was working.  Or the way his hands held me so tightly as his wonderful cock spasmed deep inside of me when it was time for one of my Prostate Expressing sessions.  I knew my therapy was working as it made Doctor Wilson happy and making him happy made me happy.  Doctor Wilson is a wonderful doctor and I am so lucky to be treated by him.  Doctor Wilson is a caring and professional doctor.  Doctor Wilson is always right and I can trust him to always help me and know what’s best for me.  Doctor Wilson is a wonderful doctor.

 

Positive Reinforcement

 Another step in a man's becoming the sissy fucktoy of her dreams. Well, they certainly seem like they're her dreams. That's what her Master has told her they are and that's what the little voices in her ears keep telling her they are. And being a sissy fucktoy certainly feels so wonderful! So, of course being a sissy fucktoy is what she's always dreamed of being!

Lisa’s head swam.  She was so damn horny it was difficult for her to think straight.  Every inch of her skin felt alive and sensitive.  Her puffy and extended nipples even more so.  Her cock ached with pleasure even as permanently limp as it now was.  Even her balls, shriveled and atrophied as they now were, also ached with pleasure.  Her ass was even worse.  It felt empty now that Master Carl had removed the plug.  Not that the plug helped much with that horniness.  Oh, it filled her up and stretched her out wonderfully and if she could only have moved around more it would’ve rubbed on her prostate enough and she’d have climaxed.  But Master Carl had strapped her down too securely for her to have moved like that.  So it only served to frustrate her and make her even hornier.  Now that he’d taken it out, the emptiness made her ache.