Founded Sep 29, 2012
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This Story is about
This sissy is hiding under a macho disquise
sissy cross dressing hiding in closet
smooth sissy lover

To me, part of the fantasy of being a submissive T-girl involves stripping me of my masculinity, documenting my transformation and the humiliation that it would involve. For me it started through an encounter with a dominant man who enjoys feminizing submissive males and turning us into 24/7 girls. It just took the right dominant man to make it happen for real.


Part of this story is based on a real experience, the rest is how I wish the fantasy will turn out, with me being completely stripped of my male identity and to be fully feminized to live out the rest of my life as a woman. If you liked the story, please vote for me in the story contest. If you are looking for a live-in T-girlfriend, please contact me.



I've spent much of the last 20 years, since the dawn of the World Wide Web, with the plethora of BDSM, forced feminization, and sissy-focused websites, looking for a dominant Master. I've had a few encounters but to be honest, I've never met a truly dominant Master who could tame me. It seems that while I have a desire to be fully feminized, with the exception of two years when I lived and worked as a woman back in the 1990s, it's never worked out for me, that is until now when I met Mr. Right on

Mr. Right agreed to meet me after an initial exchange of E-mails and chats on Yahoo Messenger. But a meeting would have to wait because he lives in New Jersey while I live in California. From these conversations we both felt that there was sufficient chemistry to meet. As my new friend has homes in Virginia and Florida that he visits in the winter, he arranged to have me fly out to meet him in Florida.

For the flight from Los Angeles to Florida, Master told me to dress nominally as male, but to wear lingerie underneath a woman's blouse, trousers, women's sneakers with no makeup.

Before clearing security on my way to baggage I found a secluded area of the gate area where I pulled my purse from my carry-on bag, fluffed up my hair, applied a little bit of makeup, added a wide silver belt, and swapped out the sneakers for a pair of black high heels. As I walked through the terminal I could hear my heels clicking and felt that every pair of eyes was trained on me but in reality everyone was too busy rushing around to pay much notice to me.


After clearing baggage claim, I saw him for the very first time and as our eyes met, I simply melted... Master was the perfect masculine counterpoint to my evolving femininity. He took a few photos of me, documenting the start of our journey together, then he handed me a pair of stylish dark sunglasses as he took my hand and led me to his car. I know he could tell that my heart was virtually beating outside my chest.

The first stop, when I was allowed to remove my sunglasses, was Fusion, a beauty salon. Master introduced me as his sissy Richard to the salon's owner Christine. He explained to Christine what he wanted, that I was to be waxed smooth, then my hair was to be colored, permed, and cut into a very feminine bob. At the same time my eyebrows were to be plucked and shaped into an unmistakeable feminine arch. Christine just smiled, saying she knew exactly what was needed.

The first step was to be taken in the back room where I was waxed. It was so humiliating to be on the table in nothing but my tiny panties that were still big enough to conceal my tiny clitoris. When she was done I was given a short pink robe and my high heels to put on, then I was given back to Christine who used the next four hours to transform me, taking photos of every step of the process, telling me that the photos would be given to Master as well as a friend of hers who had a website showing before and after photos of sissies like me. I was mortified.

When Master returned to pick me up he had a package for me, a green dress that he though perfect for me along with a very feminine ankle bracelet. Without being told I went to a changing room and put on the dress and ankle bracelet


The next stop is a department store cosmetics counter where Master had arranged for me to get a complete makeover; as at the beauty salon my Master had each and every step photographed. The salesgirl knew full well that I was a male and that I am undergoing a full-blown feminization and she's totally into the process. By the time I leave the makeup counter, with all the cosmetics she used, I have a decidedly feminine look, the hair and makeup, and the dress.


The next stop is a Nine West boutique in the same mall. There my Master tells the middle aged male salesman that I am a male and that I am being fully feminized which was very humiliating for me. As he snickered at me, I thought about the fact that he was working in a women's shoe store, but realized that it was me dressed as a woman and being fitted for high heels. He measured me, I wear a size 9 ½ women's shoe and he fitted me for a pair of four-inch black patent sling-back pumps. The pumps forcing me to wiggle my butt putting one foot ahead of the other as I walk. The clerk makes a comment I make a very pretty sissy which is mortifying to me.


As we go to pay for the pumps Master sees that suede high heel boots are on sale so he has me fitted for a pair as well as second pair of pumps, the second pair in red that clearly says CFM. As he pays for the purchases the clerk asks me to fill out a customer card and Master orders me to do so. The clerk says that a sissyboi like me will appreciate the special offers Nine West sends its valued customers who wear high heels.


The next stop is Lane Bryant (I'm a woman's size 14-16). Although I think I'm now passing as a woman, the two saleswomen there easily realize that I'm a male being feminized in spite of the makeup, dress, and high heels. Both are very helpful as there's virtually no one else in the store so they are able to suggest several dresses that they feel will give me a flirty look that will work well with my body type, that will minimize my broad shoulders.


It's at that point, again with every step documented with many photographs, I'm taken to the Cacique lingerie department adjacent to the main store where Master has me fitted with a tight corset and breast forms. Again he does nothing to hide the fact that I am being feminized and as with the other clerks, the saleswoman in Cacique enjoys seeing me humiliated, chatting me up as she takes me into a fitting room and tightens the laces on the heavily boned white corset selected for me. After the lacing is completed I am told to put my dress back on. I now enjoy a much more feminine shape, the corset giving me curves where previously none existed.


Before leaving Lane Bryant I have to pick out a formal cocktail dress – every girl needs a little black dress – and a red and black business skirt suit to fill out my new wardrobe (now I realize the reason for the previously selected pair of red pumps). As my Master again pays for everything the clerk asks for my E-mail address so I can be notified of upcoming sales. I'm now in the Lane Bryant/Cacique customer database, just like thousands of other plus-size women.


After leaving Lane Bryant I am taken back to the salon where the day started. Everyone there is surprised at my transformation and where the final element of my transformation takes place; my ears are double pierced, as are my nipples and navel, permanently marking me as his sissy. My manhood has been totally stripped from me...or so I thought.


Finally I am taken to his home, where I naturally fall into a very servile mindset, my feelings of helplessness amplified many fold. It's there where I'm shown a room where on the bed is a frilly French Maid's outfit which he orders me to put as he returns to his home office.


As soon as I dress I return to his office where I am ball gagged and hand cuffed then photographed. Next he tells me to stand at attention with my head bowed down as he uploads the photos to his computer, edits them, then loads them up to a website that shows the day's activities, starting with me nominally as a male and ending with me shown in my French Maid's uniform.


Then the before-and-after photos are uploaded to a commercial before/after transformation website with a link back to all of my photos. My humiliation is complete...almost. He burns a photo CD, drops it in an envelope along with a note he's written and address it to Centurion Publications, publishers of Forced Womanhood and Transformations magazines. I am told to put the envelope into the mailbox at the end of your driveway, dressed in my French Maid's uniform and high heels.


As any will to resist is gone I put the envelope in the mailbox I turn to walk back to the house. Before I reach the door, the mail truck arrives and takes the envelope. I burn with shame but not nearly as much months later when my pictorial appears in Forced Womanhood magazine.


By that time my humiliation is complete and I'm now totally stripped of my manhood. Next Master locks me up in a pink CB2000 chastity making it impossible for me to get aroused. That night, wearing a pretty red lingerie he had selected for me at Cacique, I climb into his bed, snuggling close to him. Especially with Master being so much more larger than me, it was so easy to fall into a servile attitude, especially as he nudged my head down to his chest where he wanted his tipples attended to, then I felt his hands pushing down on my shoulders.


When that happens a girl know what to do and I'm no exception. Feeling all so feminine with my clitoris secured in its pink prison I felt totally emasculated as I pulled his massive cock from his boxers. First licking the underside of his tool, then taking his manhood between my painted lips, I proceeded to perform fellatio on him until he exploded in my mouth. Again, there was a feeling of humiliation but it didn't last too long as I realized that I am a femme and this was what was expected of me, before going to sleep and first thing in the morning. He had told me he had an active libido, now I was learning first hand.


The rest of the trip in Florida was uneventful, as much as such a trip could be. We had plenty of time to talk, to get to know each other and especially for me to learn of his expectations of me. He told me what he liked and “suggested” the ways I should serve him. He was very, very specific. Needless to say there were several time on the trip north that he had me bury my head in his crotch. When I was driving, he took liberties with me, his hands roaming up my skirt as he tugged on my CB2000, reminding me that my clitoris as well as the rest of me now belonged to him. I would be lying if I said that I was unhappy, simply because I was not. I felt very satisfied.


In the weeks that followed Master had hormones prescribed for me and within a few months I was effectively castrated. I'm now well trained in all aspects of being a female slave, both domestic as well as sexual. He's video taped me being trained and serving him and has posted the videos on YouTube.


He's very proud of well I've turned out and enjoys putting me on display so that other men can see the success of his methods. He's even had me send my photos and videos to former girlfriends so they can see why I was never able to satisfy their needs.


And the final humiliation was his plan that we were to be married in front of family and friends, with everyone seeing me in my wedding gown as I promised to love honor and especially, to obey him. My best friend Susan, who has known me since high school, reluctantly agreed to be my Maid of Honor.


Susan was very sad at the occasion, feeling that she was losing her life long friend Richard. I told her that wasn't so, that I was still the same person on the inside but now I would be living as the woman I always felt myself to be. She said that she would try to understand, but she was having a hard time doing so. As she tightened the laces of my corset, she was hard pressed to hold back her tears but after she helped me into my gown, zipping it up the back, she said that I looked very pretty. I thanked her for being a part of this importanat day for me, that I wouldn't have wanted anyone else to be with me now.


With that, I walked out of the room and into the chapel where a small group had assembled to witness my ultimate humilation. My mother watched as her son, now fully feminized, walked up to the podium to recite her vows. Two former girlfriends, both who knew my secret while we dated, watched as I promised to love, honor, and obey my husband/Master. As the Justice of the Peace proclaimed us husband and wife, my new husband kissed me, then turned me around to face the guests as his sissy bride.


I no longer work in my past career; I now am working in the office of one of his companies as his fully feminized and feminine administrative assistant. While my life is hard, I'm happy...I have been living the life that I was born to, that of being a fully feminized sissy wife to my dominant and understanding Master.


My final humiliation came in the last couple of weeks when unknown to me, he sent my photos to Secrets In Lace, an online retailer of vintage lingerie. Apparently they liked what they saw as I was invited to Virginia for a photo session. It was interesting in that they told me prior to the photo session that they know that about 10% of their customers are crossdressers and transgendered, that it was time to feature a transgendered model. My photos came in just as the decision was made so they didn't have to go out and find a model.


Since all the Curvy Women GG models are all D-cup or larger, for the session I was fitted with D-cup prosthetic breasts. What I didn't realize, until I saw myself on display on the “Romance Garter Belt” page are that my breasts and especially my nipples are plainly visible through my bra. I am now featured in their online catalog as their first transgendered Curvy Woman model, something that they do nothing to conceal. They were very happy with my efforts and I was told that if the response is good, that I will be asked to participate in their next Curvy Woman photo shoot.

What more can a girl want?

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