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Archive-name: Control/dani.txt


Archive-title: Dani - Created in Her Image

I was not aware that my girlfriend had begun studying hypnosis,

nor that she harbored ambitions of petticoating me. But I soon

discovered that the combination of the two was dangerous to my

masculinity.  One afternoon I was sitting in my living room,

listening to the stereo through a pair of headphones. It was a

warm, sultry day, and after a while I drifted off to sleep. (Much

of what follows my girlfriend--now my mistress-- explained to me


Seeing that I had dozed off, Jennifer saw her chance. She

replaced my music tape with one she had prepared in advance.

Through my drifting sleep, my subconscious mind heard Jennifer's

voice, presenting me with a set of hypnotic suggestions.  "I want

you to sleep, sleep, sleep," whispered the tape. "When I count to

100, you will be in a deep, restful sleep, in which you can hear

only my voice." When she reached 100, Jennifer switched to the

instructions, designed to impose a submissive feminine

personality upon me.  "You love women's clothes. You love

dressing and looking like a woman. The feel of satin, silk, and

nylon arouses you. You are particularly fond of clothes that make

you look both sexy and little girlish. Very high heels are a

special turn-on.

"You are a sexual submissive. You are compelled to obey the

commands and orders of women. You are particularly responsive to

those who will dress you in beautiful clothes and keep you in

bondage. You want to be a male, lesbian slave.  But you will

never forget that you are a man, and the great humiliation of

your feminine, submissive state.  "When I reach 1, you will

awaken.  You will not remember being hypnotized, and will show no

effects from these instructions.  However, whenever you hear the

words 'pretty sissy Dani,' you will adopt the personality imposed

by these instructions.  At the snapping of my fingers, you will

return to your 'normal' personality, with full memory of the

humiliations you have experienced. 100, 99, 98, 97 ...."

According to Mistress Jennifer, I awoke a few minutes later. She

told me she had an appointment at her hairdresser's and asked me

to drive her there. I agreed (why not?), and we were there within

15 minutes. As we entered the shop, she leaned over and whispered

in my ear, "Pretty sissy Dani." I could feel the incredible shift

in my personality take hold.  I looked at my mistress and asked,

"Mistress Jennifer, why am I dressed in these horrid male

clothes?" She smiled mischievously and answered, "Don't worry, my

pretty slave.  The appointment here is for you. And look, here

comes Mistress Margaret to perform your transformation." A tall,

well-built brunette approached.  "Is this our little male

lesbian?" she inquired, smirking. I blushed under her frank gaze.

"Well, we'll soon have you looking the part, Danielle." She led

me to her working area and settled me into the chair. "Dani, most

of our customers find it much more relaxing to strip out of their

clothes before we begin work," she told me. "Wouldn't you like to

do the same?" With my new female personality, I was only too

happy to get out of the pants and shirt I was wearing. Soon, I

was naked, and Margaret wrapped a pink, see-through smock around

my slender, nearly hairless body.  At that point, Mistress

Jennifer approached once again. "Comfy, Dani?" she asked.  Then

she snapped her fingers.

Instantly, my male persona reasserted itself--but this time I

remembered everything I had said and done, and all that had gone

on around me.  "Why are you doing this, Jennifer?" I cried. She

slapped my face.  "Mistress Jennifer is my name--and don't forget

it again!" she snapped. "Now be quiet and let Mistress Margaret

transform you." A short while later, my head was under the faucet

of the sink, as Mistress Margaret scrubbed my mousy brown hair

with a sweet smelling shampoo.  Next she rinsed a conditioner

through it...or so she said. As I sat in the chair waiting for

the conditioner to work, I must have dozed off again.  I was

awakened by an odd tickling sensation at my naked feet. I looked

down and another woman was stroking bright red nail polish onto

my toenails.  Shaken, I realized that Mistress Jennifer was truly

intent on carrying out her program of transformation. I glanced

to the table where my clothes had been left--as I suspected, they

were gone.

"Well, sissy Dani, I see you know I meant what I said," Jennifer

laughed, stepping from behind a partition. In her hands, she held

a pair of lacy, pink satin tap panties. She reached under my

smock and slipped them on me.  Strangely, even without feminine

persona at work, the feel of the satin around my loins seemed to

excite me, as my cock began to grow and harden.  The mistresses

laughed and sneered at my combined excitement and discomfort.

"That's just the beginning, Danielle," Margaret smiled "Look at

yourself!" And she whirled the chair around, so that I could see

myself in the mirror.

There was only one major change, but it added to my distress. My

hair was wrapped tightly in rollers, and the pink of the smock

and panties seemed to feminize my slender, hairless form.

Margaret now squeezed a foul-smelling liquid onto my

rolled-hair--I knew what it was. I was getting a permanent!  "And

that's not all," Jennifer laughed. "Danielle's hair will not only

be curly--it will be a saucy shade of golden blonde!" A short

time later, after sitting under a dryer, I was having my

fingernails filed and polished the same bright red as my

toenails, while Margaret combed out my hair, producing a

flattering golden blonde pageboy, reaching to just above my


While Jennifer went out to pick my clothing, Margaret performed

her magic on my face--tweezing my brows into a thin feminine

arch accenting my eyes with blue-green shadow, eyeliner, and

mascara. A deep blush stroked on my cheeks gave me an appropriate

look of constant embarrassment, while a red lipstick, matching my

nails, made my lips look wet, kissable, and desirable. In the

end, I was definitely Danielle--absolutely stunning.  By that

time, Jennifer had returned. I was released from the chair, and

dressed in a pink padded bra, pink garterbelt, sheer white

stockings, and a pink minislip. Over it all came a lacy white

minidress, the skirt stopping a full six inches above my knees.

On my feet, Jennifer placed white patent leather shoes, with a

strap across the instep and five-inch heels. They looked like

incredibly sexy Mary Janes. Margaret and Jennifer supervised as I

practiced walking in them--a full hour, until I had gained a very

provocative wiggle.

The finishing touches were the jewelry--big gold clip-on

earrings, a heavy gold chain bracelet, and a matching chain

around my left ankle. But the real finish came last: a heavy gold

collar which Jennifer locked around my neck, hooking the key on

her charm bracelet.  The transformation was complete. Mistress

Jennifer paid off her friend Margaret, and we sashayed out to the

car. As we drove off, my new mistress whispered in my ear,

"Pretty sissy Dani."

                            CHAPTER 2

Some six months after Mistress Jennifer first imposed the "sissy

Dani" persona on me through post-hypnotic suggestion, our lives

had settled into a routine. Most of the week was quite

normal--only Jennifer's insistence that I wear a corset and

baby-dolls to bed indicated the hold she had over me. Naturally,

I complied, since she could always threaten to permanently impose

"sissy Dani" on my mind.  Weekends, however, were generally spent

in my transformed bondage. Perhaps a description of one such

period will demonstrate the nature of our relationship.

I arrived home from work Friday night and was met by Mistress

Jennifer at the door, dressed in her most dominant clothes--black

leather bustier, knee-length black leather hobble skirt, black

stockings, and six-inch heels. She kissed me tenderly and

whispered "Pretty sissy Dani." Once again, as it had countless

times over the past half-year, my personality shifted. I was no

longer Daniel, the confident journalist, but now Dani, the

sweetly submissive male lesbian. As I had been taught, I dropped

my gaze and held out my arms, wrists touching. "Transform me,

Mistress," I pleaded. "Bind me into your service as sissy Dani."

Jennifer smiled the wicked smile I had grown to fear yet love.

"At once, sissy Dani. I have a very special weekend planned for


Producing a collar and leash, she bound me to her and led me to

sissy Dani's transformation room. Seating me before the vanity,

she told me to begin my change. First came the makeup--eyeshadow,

mascara, bright red lipstick and, of course, the blush that gave

me the look of constant embarrassment that Mistress Jennifer so

enjoyed. She even powdered my breasts, then shadowed my

"cleavage" and rouged my nipples, making my otherwise flat chest

look quite girlish. She next combed out my hair into the

flattering blonde pageboy her friend Mistress Margaret had

created when Dani was first "revealed."

Next came the clothes. Jennifer had already laid out the outfit I

was to wear for the evening. It consisted of a low-cut red satin

blouse (though I had little in the way of natural cleavage,

Mistress Jennifer still preferred me to dress in this sexy manner

at times), a tight black leather miniskirt (with the hem fully

six inches above my knees), a knee- length black leather cape,

with red satin lining, and red patent-leather pumps, with

towering 6-1/2-inch heels. All this was worn over black lingerie,

including a lightly-padded bra, satin panties, garter belt and

sheer black stockings.

Sissy Dani (I had, in my lucid moments as Daniel, come to think

of her as a separate person) revelled in these sexy, feminine

clothes, creating a sexual rush that thickened and hardened my

cock. Mistress Jennifer smiled and brushed her hand across the

obvious bulge under my skirt. "We'll get to that later, sissy

Dani," she whispered. "Now calm down."

Now Jennifer placed the gold bracelets with the secret locks on

my wrists, the matching gold ankle bracelets on my legs and,

finally, the gold collar with the visible lock around my neck.

Then she took my wrists in her hands and brought them together

behind my back. SNAP! The bracelets became handcuffs, effectively

binding my hands behind me, hidden beneath the cape.

Next, she clipped the leash again to my collar and led me out to

the street. Submissively (sissy Dani could act no other way), I

followed.  As we reached the sidewalk, she snapped her fingers

before my face. That was the signal--sissy Dani disappeared and

Daniel came back to life.  I stumbled in the towering heels as I

came to my senses. As usual, I knew everything Mistress Jennifer

had done to me and I was thoroughly humiliated to be bound and

cross-dressed in public--although certainly no passer-by would

guess that the blonde vision in red-and- black was not female.

"Where are we going now?" I asked. She smiled the secret smile I

had come to fear--it always meant humiliation for me.  "One of my

dearest dominant friends is having a little party. She asked me

to bring sissy Dani to demonstrate my 'training methods,'"

Mistress Jennifer replied. "Her name is Mistress Susan--and 

you will obey her, and any other dominant woman at the party, as

you would me. You know the consequences. "I certainly did. The 

consequences were to live the rest of my life as sissy Dani. I was

constantly afraid she would carry through on that threat--and

secretly desiring it as well. The more time I spent as sissy Dani,

or in "her` clothes, the more I

grew to enjoy it. I dared not tell Mistress Jennifer...she would

only try to find a new way to humiliate me.  Fortunately the

party house was only a few blocks away, so there was little

chance for me to be seen by any neighbors. When we reached the

door, it was opened by Mistress Susan. At that moment, Jennifer

whipped off my cape, exposing my bondage to her sister dominant

and all the other party-goers. She announced to the group,

"Hello, everyone, this is PRETTY SISSY DANI!"

With those words, Dani reasserted herself. I blushed (prettily,

I'm sure) at my exposure. As I had often been instructed, I

dropped to my knees and placed my lips on the toes of Mistress

Susan's white patent leather boots. "Thank you for permitting me

to serve you and all the other women here, Mistress Susan," I

said.  The lovely blonde dominant, dressed all in white leather,

took my hand and raised me back to my feet. "You're quite

welcome, sissy Dani.  Come meet my other guests."

The room was filled with dominant women, each attended by one or

more submissives. All of the submissives were cross-dressed men,

in varying states of attire. Several were completely outfitted as

French maids, with short, petticoated, black-satin mini-dresses,

black silk hose and high, black-patent leather shoes. Others were

done-up as little girls--in pink or white satin party dresses,

bare legs, frilly white socks and Mary-Janes. Still others wore

nothing but corsets or waist- cinchers with nylons and heels.

These were usually also in mild bondage of one sort or another.

The one exception was a boy of about 16, who was completely naked

and bound to a chair in the middle of the room. I assumed he had

been drugged in some way, because he was relaxed and apparently

sleeping.  Susan led Jennifer and me over to the bound young man.

"Dani, this is my little brother Tommy. He is about to become

your sister in spirit--thanks to your lovely Mistress.

I was shocked (even as Sissy Dani) to realize that Mistress

Jennifer was aiding her friend in enslaving one so

young--especially the dominant's brother. The various dominants

in the room gathered around as Susan and Jennifer began to dress

the drowsing boy in feminine clothes.  Apparently the plan was to

establish the soon-to-be "Tammy" as a sort of teen-age tease. He

was dressed in frilly pink panties, a generously padded bra

(making him at least a 35C), matching garter belt, sheer hose, a

tight pink sweater, pink mini-skirt (fully as short as my own),

pink ankle sox with lace at the cuffs, and pink patent-leather

pumps with four-inch heels.

Once he was dressed, the assembled dominants made up his face:

pale blue eyeshadow, long false lashes, a becoming blush and deep

red lipstick. They topped it off with a curly, shoulder-length

auburn wig.  Now, at Mistress Jennifer's direction, one of the

"maids" brought over a full-length mirror and an amplifier set

up, with microphone and headphones. The headphones were placed

over "Tammy's" ears, the microphone given to Jennifer, while the

newly cross-dressed boy was brought to his feet before the

mirror.  "Open your eyes, Tommy," Jennifer spoke into the mike.

"This is the new you: You ur name is Tammy. You have two goals in

life--to serve your Mistress Susan, and to use your feminine

wiles to lure other teenage boys like yourself into our clutches,

to be feminized and dominated for the enjoyment of these women.

"Naturally, you you urself are much turned-on by this look. You 

want to look just  as pretty and sexy as you  can. You  glory

in the attention--at the same time realizing the humiliation of

your position as a toy and sex-lure for your Mistress's 

purposes."Remember, that any time your Mistress wishes to give 

you instructions, she must only direct you to gaze upon yourself

in a mirror, with the words, 'Pose for me, Teasing Tammy.' "Now, 

close your eyes and sleep until I awaken you with the words, 'Wake 

up, Teasing Tammy.'"The newly renamed boy-girl sat quietly as the 

even the assembled dominants gasped at the boldness of Jennifer

and Susan's scheme. They planned not only to enslave the 

feminized Tommy, but to use him to recruit other unsuspecting

lads to their arms.  Sissy Dani and Teasing Tammy would soon have

many "little sisters,` it seemed.

                          CHAPTER THREE

Mistress Jennifer and Mistress Susan's plans to create an entire

"harem" of transformed men and boys continued apace.  The lure of

Teasing Tammy (the transformation name of Susan's teen-aged

brother Tommy) proved quite effective. Each of the young men (the

youngest just 14, the oldest 22) the little tease brought back to

the home we all now shared was turned into a different kind of

feminized sex-toy, all designed to please the Mistresses and

their dominant friends.

The little 14-year-old--apparently too sexually precocious for

his own good--was introduced to Tammy by his mother, who wanted

to prevent him from becoming a threat to the girls in his school

and neighborhood.  Tammy was a revelation to Martin--his

experience with girls was limited to the still-flat-chested,

teddy-bear shaped girls in his school.  She was dressed in her

usual "tease" outfit: frilly pink panties, a generously padded

bra (making her at least a 35C), matching garter belt, sheer

hose, a tight pink sweater, pink mini-skirt (falling about six

inches aboves her knees), pink ankle sox with lace at the cuffs,

and pink patent-leather pumps with four-inch heels.

Well, when Martin saw Teasing Tammy in her frilly but skimpy pink

outfit, her ample charms begging him to come home with her, he

was lost.  Once at the transformation house, in Tammy's bedroom,

the little tease managed to trick Martin into putting on some

lingerie--a lacy beige bra and matching panties--with the promise

of sucking his cock if he did so. Once the unsuspecting lad was

so dressed, Mistress Susan appeared in the door of Tammy's room.

Feigning shock at the scene before her (a scene she had actually

instructed Tammy to play out), Susan ordered Tammy out of the

room.  Dressed in a black leather mini-skirted business suit and

lavender satin blouse, with her long legs perched on five-inch

black patent leather heels, the dominant was as attractive to

Martin's eyes as her "sister" had been--possibly more so. Susan

sat beside him--still dressed in his lingerie and nothing

else--and talked to Martin about how he was dressed and how he

felt in the girl's underclothes.

"I know you're embarrassed, Martin,` she explained. "But you 

really do look cute in that outfit. I can see why Tammy wanted

you to wear it: you're so soft and pink, you  almost look like 

agirl.` The lad blushed--all over--at Susan's words. Now the 

dominant got stern. "Don't blush! You obviously enjoy wearing 

those clothes--and you obviously wanted Tammy to suck your cock!

Maybe we should let you see what it's like to be a girl--or maybe 

a very girlish boy!` Now Martin was scared. What did this very

beautiful, but frightening, young woman have in mind? Susan

smiled inwardly--very soon Martin would be the submissive girlish

sissy his mother wanted. She produced a pill and some water,

giving both to Martin.  "Take this, Martin," she advised. "It

will calm you."

It certainly would. The drug--a combination sedative and mind-

control potion--had been developed by one of Jennifer and Susan's

dominant friends. Only moments after he downed the pill, Martin

was quiet, breathing deeply and staring straight ahead with

unseeing eyes.  At that moment, Mistress Jennifer and Martin's

mother, Mistress Carla, entered. "He's all yours, Carla," Susan

said. Carla ordered the boy to stand and put on the clothes she

laid out for him. First came a satin camisole over the bra and

panties, then white hose attached to a matching garter belt. Next

was a white satin blouse with a high collar and bouffant sleeves.

On Martin's legs went a pair of tight black velvet shorts,

followed by a matching vest that laced tightly around him. The

finishing touches were black patent leather Mary Jane shoes with

two-inch heels and a black satin bow at his neck.

Now the women went to work on his face--light touches of blush,

blue eyeshadow, and pale pink lipstick, topped off with a blonde

page-boy wig with a black satin bow in the back.  Commanding the

lad to stand before the full-length mirror, Carla brought him out

of his trance, but still under her control. "Look at yourself!

You are no longer the roughneck boy you once were, but a sweet

submissive sissy, who would not think of disobeying. Your name is

now Little Miss Mandy. Of course, you will need to undergo a

great deal of training for your new role..." "That's really not

necessary," Jennifer interrupted. "You can give him commands that

he'll be unable to disobey right now." "I know that," Carla

replied. "But then I'd miss all the fun of training him and

watching his embarrassment and humiliation as he finds himself

being drawn into my net of feminized obediance." And the three

dominant women laughed at the truth of the statement.

Of course, while all this had been going on, Mistress Jennifer

had not been idle in my continuing enslavement and feminization

as Sissy Dani.  The next step in my "training" came during dinner

at an elegant restaurant. I had arrived, as ordered, as Daniel.

Shown to the table at which Jennifer sat, I blanched when I saw

her. She was dressed all in leather, a sure sign that I was in

for a humiliating time. As I sat beside her, she let her hand

brush over my chest.

"You're not wearing a bra, are you?" she demanded.  "Of course

not. I'm Daniel, not Sissy Dani," I whispered. "You told me to

come as my normal self." "That doesn't mean you shouldn't always

be reminded of your true position," she answered. She reached

into her bag and pulled out a package, smiling the sinister smile

I recognized so well. The package was from the local boutique

that specialized in TV fashions. "Go to the men's room and put on

the things you'll find in this package,` she ordered.  I peeked

inside. The package contained a black bra and panties, garter

belt and sheer stockings. "I can't do that!` I protested.  "You 

can and you will,` she replied. "Unless you'd rather spend the 

evening as Sissy Dani, down on the floor, eating my pussy instead

of dinner?"I shuddered--I knew she could do it if she wished. 

Sheepi shly Ipicked up the package and headed for the men's room. 

"AndDaniel,` she called after me, "no socks over the stockings.

"Moments later, certain the entire restaurant knew what I was 

wearing beneath my business suit (a real possibility, since

myshirt was light enough for the black bra to show through, and

my pants short enough for the sheer hose to show at my ankles), I

returned to our table. As I sat again, Mistress Jennifer reached

for my crotch, deftly pulled open my fly and pulled out a tuft of

the black satin panties. She let her leather-covered hand brush

over my straining cock. Yes, I WAS turned on, dammit!

We ordered dinner, with Jennifer, as usual, ordering for me.

Though she had a full meal, I had to be content with a salad.

"Have to watch your girlish figure," she laughed. After dinner,

as we relaxed, Jennifer pulled her makeup out of her purse and

began to freshen up. She turned to me as she finished, asking,

"Wouldn't you like to freshen your makeup, too, Pretty Sissy

Dani?" That was it--the code words that surrendered my

personality to that of Sissy Dani, Mistress Jennifer's lesbian

slave. Though I could not refuse her commands, I remained aware

of what she was doing to me.  "Dani, I think it's silly of you to

go about without makeup on, don't you?" she asked.  "Yes,

Mistress," Dani replied.  "Very well, then. I want you to put on

a light coat of pink lipstick, pale blue eyeshadow, eyeliner,

mascara, and just a hint of blush--though you hardly need it. You

blush so naturally when you're embarrassed. "Unable to refuse, I 

did as she asked. When I had finished, she produced a pair of

dangling earrings with little bells, and my familiar slave ankle

bracelets. "Put these on,` she commanded. I obeyed again.  "Very

good. Now Dani,` she continued, "at all times, whether dressed as 

Dani or Daniel you will wear the makeup, earrings and ankle

bracelets you are now wearing. This is an irrevocable post-

hypnotic command. Each morning when you dress as Daniel or Dani

these things will be a part of your routine. As Dani, of course,

you WANT to be pretty. As Daniel, they will add to the

embarrassment you feel from your feminization. The soft ringing

of the bells in your ears will remind you constantly that MY

voice rings in your ears, always ready to command you to do as

I wish." She snapped her fingers.

Instantly, I regained control of myself as Daniel. I looked into

the mirror next to our table. The sight of my now permanently

feminized face brought on moist eyes. "Why?" I asked Jennifer.

"You didn't think I'd be happy with you as just a part-time

slave, did you?` she responded. "Now I can hold power over you 

constantly. You're mine 24 hours a day from now on, even without 

Sissy Dani. Soon I may impose that simpering personality on you

constantly, with no way for you to be released." 

                            CHAPTER 4

 "This should be the most exciting night of your life,` Mistress 

Jennifer told me. "We'll be celebrating Sissy Dani's first

'birthday.'" It was true. A full year had gone by since Jennifer

had first used her secret hypnotic designs to implant within my

mind the personality of Sissy Dani, a simpering, submissive male

lesbian who craved being both beautiful and bound. In that year,

she had also aided many of her dominant female friends to

successfully transform the men in their lives into submissive

feminized slaves as well. Many of them would be at the party

tonight.  "Let's get you into your birthday dress," Jennifer

said, holding out the special creation.  "Can't that wait?" I

asked petulantly. I had noted over the last several months that

even as Daniel I was becoming increasingly girlish--my voice was

higher, softer

 my gestures and walk more feminine. This "persona

seepage," as I had come to think of it, had seemingly begun the

evening Jennifer imposed a second set of posthypnotic commands

upon me. I was now compelled to wear feminine undergarments and a

light coating of makeup at all times, whether dressed and acting

as Daniel or Dani. I was now reluctant to wear female clothing

when the Daniel persona was in charge-- for fear the "seepage"

would increase.  Jennifer, of course, had the solution to my

reluctance. "Don't you want to be PRETTY, SISSY DANI?" Those were

the code words, the special message that would activate in full

the feminine psyche hidden within my own. As usual, the switch

was instantaneous.  Unable to resist (though within, I knew how

humiliating the entire scenario was), I dropped my gaze and held

out my arms, wrists touching.  "Transform me, Mistress," I

pleaded. "Bind me into your service as sissy Dani." Jennifer

ordered me to remove my male outer clothes and the black lace

undies I was also wearing. She strapped me into a plain white

strapless padded bra and then added white panties. No garter belt

this time--the sheer white stockings she gave me to put on my

hairless legs were designed to stay up by themselves. When she

handed me the dress Sissy Dani was to wear to the party I

understood why my lingerie was so simple.  The dress was elegant,

sexy, and tight as tight could be. Its shirred white fabric clung

to everyone of Sissy Dani's curves. It was low-cut and strapless,

the bodice fitting like a bustier. The hem was among the shortest

Sissy Dani had ever worn--nearly eight inches above the knee. A

built-in starched petticoat made the skirt stand out, seemingly

revealing even more of the legs than usual.  Now came the

shoes--the barest of bare white sandals with seven-inch heels.

Fortunately, in preparation for the party, Jennifer had made me

(as both Daniel and Dani) practice walking in even higher

eight-inch heels for the past month. In comparison, these were

like flats. I looked down at my feet, and the Sissy Dani persona

was enchanted by the sight of my red- painted toenails winking

through the thin straps of the sandals. It was an extremely sexy

sight.  Fully dressed for the party (or so I thought at the

time), I was seated at my vanity for a make-up job. In keeping

with the sexy yet virginal white of my outfit, Mistress Jennifer

emphasized the little-girl look of my face without neglecting the

need to make me the sexual center of attention she wanted me to

be that evening. The final effect--with ultra-long lashes,

carefully shaded pale colors in the eyeshadow, a deep coral

lipstick, and my usual embarrassed blush--left the impression of

a Monroe-like sexpot trying to masquerade as a pre-teenager.

Jennifer was certain I would be a hit.  My usual bondage jewelry

was also added--locked collar, bracelets, ankle bracelets.  She

faced me toward the mirror and snapped her fingers. Instantly, my

male persona reasserted itself. I gazed at my reflection--and the

hypnotic effect of Jennifer's commands combined with the "persona

seepage" left me with a raging hard-on. Jennifer recognized the

look of longing on my face.  "Concentrate on other things,

Danielle," she cooed. "For example, I have a big birthday

surprise waiting for you at the party this evening." She grinned

evilly--and I shuddered, half in fear, half in anticipation.

"Time to go," she told me, producing my "outerwear," such as it

was.  First came a pair of opera-length white satin gloves,

exceedingly tight and fetishistic. So tight, in fact, that I

could scarcely move my elbows or fingers once they were on. She

forced my arms behind my back and demonstrated the gloves' other

secret: The two halves of a nylon zipper ran up the inner side of

each glove. Forcing my arms close together, she closed the

zipper, imprisoning my arms as if they were bound in a single

glove.  Over this elegant bondage she placed a white satin cape

that fell to my waist, mostly hiding my imprisoned arms--but

leaving just enough showing to make it interesting should anyone

notice my awkward condition. "Now you just stand here like that

and get used to it," Jennifer advised, "while I get into my own

party outfit." Moments later, she reappeared. Involuntarily I

gasped--she was beautiful. Her dress was a classic evening

gown--halter-collared, barebacked, clinging in all the right

places, with a slit up the side to reveal her gorgeous legs--but

made entirely of red kid leather. Her stockings were also red,

and her shoes were of matching leather in a six- inch heeled

pump.  Jennifer clipped a gold chain leash to my collar and

tugged lightly.  "Let's go, Dani--your public awaits." The party

was held at Mistress Susan's home. Mistress Susan was the sister

of Teasing Tammy (nee Tommy), and was the instigator of his

transformation into that alluring teenager whose purpose was to

gain new "recruits" to the growing legion of feminized

submissives. Among the guests at this birthday party for my own

imposed female persona were Tammy, Little Miss Mandy and "her"

mother Carla, and Busty Barbie and "her" wife- mistress, Maria.

Each of the three had, I was told, prepared an entertainment for

the celebration.  When everyone had arrived, the festivities

began. First into the spotlight was Tammy. Susan had outfitted

her little "sister" in a dressy version of her usual teen-age

sexpot attire. The buxom little redhead wore a pink sequined

mini-dress with a diagonal-cut hem: It started at knee- length on

her left side and rose to stocking-tops (revealing a hint of

garter) on the left. Along the outside of the left leg her

specially made pink stockings had an inscription, running from

the thigh to the ankle:  "Cockteaser." She also wore six-inch

pink pumps.  Like me, Tammy was only a part-time submissive.

Susan brought her out for special occasions like these or for

missions to lure in prospective feminization victims. Also like

me, Tammy's other self, Tommy, was acutely aware of everything he

was forced to undergo when in the thrall of the Teasing Tammy

persona--so I understood the humiliation he would feel after the

party when Susan released him from her control.  Tammy's act

consisted of her playing up sexually to one of the un- feminized

male submissives at the party, while singing--in a Betty Boop-ish

voice--"I Want to Be Loved By You." Her instructions were to turn

the man on as much as possible--both for her own humiliation as

his, since he would be forbidden to relieve his frustration by

his own mistress.  The act was a rousing success. The party-goers

loved it--and the poor submissive ended up with a raging erection

but tied to a chair as he was, he could only long for

release--in more ways than one.  Completing her number, Tammy

curtsied and retreated to Susan's side, where she was immediately

returned to her own bondage--silver handcuffs behind the back and

leg restraints--and then Susan played a little trick of her own:

Snapping her fingers, she returned Tammy to Tommy. As the

realization of what he had just done hit him, Tommy turned bright

red and would have run from the room had Susan not restrained

him.  Next on the makeshift stage was Little Miss Mandy. Unlike

most of the other feminized slaves in our circle, Mandy had not

been transformed through hypnosis but through rigorous training

by his mother Carla instead.  She had turned down the mesmerizing

route, thinking it would be more fun (and more embarrassing to

the former Martin) if the 14-year-old boy were constantly aware

of his increasing feminized appearance and personality.

Normally, Carla kept Mandy dressed in sissy-boy attire (velvet or

satin shorts, satin skirts, big bows, etc.) rather than full

female regalia, but tonight she had gone all out. Mandy gave the

appearance of an oversized eight-year-old girl in a pale blue

party dress with lace and ruffles all over it, little puffed

sleeves, opaque white stockings, and white patent- leather Mary

Janes with three-inch heels. The effect was emphasized by a

little organdy apron tied over his skirt, with a big bow showing

at the rear.  Still there remained a touch of the androgynous to

his appearance, since Carla had chosen to forego a wig for the

cross-dressed boy, simply curling his short black hair tightly

and affixing a large pale blue ribbon to the left side. His face

was lightly touched with cosmetics, just enough to soften his

features. Many of the other "little-girl" submissives at the

party were clearly jealous of his femininity.  For her

performance, Mandy sang the classic "I'm a Little Teapot,"

replete with the appropriate gestures. When completed, she

curtsied, then (as ordered) stuck her thumb in her mouth in

little-girl fashion. The audience ate it up.  Last up was Busty

Barbie. Once known as Bob, he was the only adult in our group of

fem-slaves who lived full-time as a woman. How could he do

otherwise? His wife, Maria, perturbed by his obsession with

big-breasted women, had used a combination of hypnosis, special

drugs and breast implants to turn him into a heart-stopping

version of what he loved most.  Barbie was now a lust-inducing

buxom brunette, her boobs expanded to a 38D. The hypnotic

commands that created the Barbie personality had several

interesting twists: the more often she saw herself with big

breasts, the bigger she wanted her boobs to get (although Maria

had recently "turned off" that command--she didn't want Barbie to

get gross)

Bob, when released from the Barbie persona, was compelled to gaze

upon the vision of Barbie he had become--and come in his panties

 finally, Bob had constant awareness of all

that happened to Barbie--and Maria frequently ordered him to

report on his reactions to it. He had told me it was a greatly

humiliating experience.  And that was to be his "act" this

evening. Barbie wiggled and jiggled her way into the performance

area. She wore a see-through red black blouse, through which her

large tits, carefully powdered and rouged, showed provocatively.

Her skirt was a tight black leather mini, considerably hampering

her ability to walk freely, especially in the six-inch heeled

pumps she also wore. Her dark hair hung below her shoulders in a

Farah-like wave, framing a skillfully made-up face with bee-stung

red lips.  "I have been--requested," she began, "to describe my

activities and my feelings as I prepared for this evening's

gathering.  "As usual when appearing in public, I began with a

long bubble-bath. As I stripped naked, I found my hands again

straying to my breasts, tweaking the nipples, heaving the heavy

globes together. My mind struggled to prevent my body from

teasing myself so, but without effect. My Mistress' hypnotic

commands are too strong. After successfully causing my cock to

harden, I stepped into the bath.  "An hour later," she continued,

"powdered and dried from the bath, I began dressing for the

party. I started with my black satin panties, garter belt and

black sheer stockings. The I stepped--struggled, really--into the

exquisite tightness of my leather skirt. My body thrilled at the

feel of it across my hips and thighs

 my mind tried to push those

feelings away, again without success. Finally I slipped on my

six-inch pumps.  "Then I sat at my vanity to begin my makeup. I

accented my eyes with long false eyelashes, and deep green

shadow, and carefully touched up my plucked and arched eyebrows.

next came a rose blush, followed by a coat of glistening red

lipstick. I freshened my nail polish with the same red color.

"Now, came the part my body loved and my mind most detested. I

could feel my arms and hands shake as my conscious struggled with

my unconscious.  But, as always, the unconscious won--my hands

picked up the powder and lipstick again, accenting the white of

giant boobs and the red of the nipples. Looking at my luscious

tits in the mirror, I felt my cock begin to stir again.  "Now

came the finishing touch--the blouse that would both hide and

reveal my breasts to the world. Once it was in place, Mistress

Maria entered my room and snapped her fingers. Barbie was

gone--Bob in her place within my mind. I stared at the reflection

in the mirror and--as it had every day for the past several

months--my cock shot its load into my panties at the sight of my

transformed self." The entertainment complete, Mistress Jennifer

announced it was time for my surprise. Suddenly, from behind, I

felt a pair of hands thrust a ball- gag into my mouth, tying it

tightly. Next I felt the zipper on my dress being pulled down.

Shortly, the dress fell in a bundle to my feet. Now, Mistress

Jennifer reached behind me and undid the hooks on my bra. It,

too, fell to the floor.  I stood there, half-naked in my sheer

white hose and high white sandals, unable to move because of the

way my arms were bound by the satin gloves, unable to protest

because of the way my mouth was gagged. Jennifer smiled-- the

smile I knew meant additional humiliation for me. "You look

so Pretty, Sissy Dani." Instantly. I no longer cared

how I looked. I actually longed for the humiliation I was

receiving. Such was the effect of the Sissy Dani persona upon me.

Now, Jennifer produced a syringe from her bag. "This, Sissy Dani,

is the same drug which produced such wonderful results in Busty

Barbie." She stuck the needle under each of my breasts, as my

eyes gaped.  "Oh no, Dani," she responded to my unasked question,

"we're not going to make you as buxom as Barbie. Just enough to

give yocute little boobs for the rest of your life.  "After

all," Jennifer continued, "you're going to need them. From this

point forward, the sound of snapping fingers will no longer

return Daniel to control of your mind.' She demonstrated. Indeed,

the switch in personas I expected did not occur. But did that

mean-- "Yes, Dani, this is the end of your double life," she went

on, as I felt and watched my tits begin to grow. "From now on,

you're Pretty Sissy Dani forever!"

                             THE END



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