Monday, April 30, 2012


"How long," President Anderson asked the director of the re-education camp as the stood in the Transformation Ward, watching the bound prisoner drool and shake in orgasm.

"Prisoner Number 2142 one was captured on March 3rd," the director said, consulting her notes, "field interrogation lasted for six days, the prisoner arrived here on March 12, and treatment began immediately, so, this is the 50th day with ten to go.

The President nodded, looked down at her own file, at the picture of Prisoner No. 2124 upon arrival at the camp, the hardened combat veteran, with the four day beard, the muscles, the crew cut. When he—she—arrived, Prisoner 2142 was practically a recruiting poster. "It's amazing."

"Thank you Madam President," the director nodded. "While the Ngozi Process is time consuming—complete feminization of a typical male involves eight hours of treatments daily for sixty days—the results are total and irreversible."

The Ngozi Process, developed by Profession Annabelle Ngozi, just over a year ago, was used by the Republic to deal with captured male soldiers. "Rather than house them, feed them, and worry about them escaping back north," Professor Ngozi argued, "we need to find a way to sap their will to fight for the Dictatorship.

"The moans," the President asked, "they seem...genuine."

"Oh, they are, Ma'am, they are—at least in the later stages. At the beginning, when the prisoner still has a penis, things are different—as you can imagine, once a male has an orgasm, continued stimulation is actually quite painful. However, as reproductive tissue is moved from the penis to the breasts, the effect of the vibrations deaden until, at around day 35, multiple orgasms become possible, until finally, around day 49 or 50, when the breasts are fully formed and the penis is completely shrunken to clit size, a prisoner will, for all practical purposes, orgasm throughout the entire eight hour process."

"An eight hour orgasm every day for ten days," the President raised her eyebrow, "no wonder we're sweeping up so many deserters."

"Since the broadcast, yes, the choice is stark, but clear. Face the brutality of war and life in a dictatorship or the pleasure of enhanced womanhood."

"This will sound crude," President Anderson actually blushed, "but what about, um..."

"Cock," the director laughed, "don't worry, Ma'am, everyone asks. See the two long slots running from her feet to her knees? That's where we attach it."


"Today, for this one, Ma'am, that's part of the reason I wanted to show you this prisoner. In fact, here they are now..."

Two female technicians wheeled a cart into the room, sitting on top of which was a two foot rectangular box with a long, metal cylinder protruding. Attached to the end of the cylinder was an eight inch dildo—flesh like with a bulbous head and veins, stunningly realistic—a cock that was going to fuck Prisoner 2142 for eight hours a day for the next ten days.


Paulina Stanek is beautiful...


Sure, this would terrify most husbands, but what better way for a wife to ensure her cuckold husband doesn't feel left out?

Wednesday, April 25, 2012


You thought I was kidding? No, darling, I wasn't kidding, I wasn't joking, I wasn't playing around—sex, as you know it, will never be as it was before.

Not a real girl

"She's not a real girl, here, let me show you...see...I know it's small...but look at the lump in her panties."

At Work Fantasies

I often have them, and it's Emily's fault, given the way she likes to flirt with guys, the way she likes to tease me, and the crush she had on her old boss. So, when I see pictures like this, especially on a day when Emily looks amazing, my mind wanders to boss/employee naughty thoughts.


"What? You wanted to review me today, Mr. Jones."

Eye Candy

Man: There is NO way you're going to work dressed like that.

Sissy: Will...will you be home late?

LOVE this teddy!

Monday, April 23, 2012

It's fake...

...but it's good.


One word, that's all she needs to say, one word, one command, and you'll obey, you'll drop to your knees, crawl to her, and obey. Without asking where she's been or who she has been with, you'll simply obey.

On Sale Now


What I've been working on...

There have been fewer personal updates lately, about Emily and I, for which I apologize, but I've been hard at work on my new book, The Sissy Pilot, which should come out in the next few months. This is a long story, currently a little longer than A Change in Our Marriage, and of that genre (feminization, emasculation, cuckolding). While I have a couple of other long stories in the works, it looks like this is the one that is going to get published first.

Below is my working cover (thanks to the simply amazing OnlyTease, which you should all check out for letting me use the image, which I'm super pumped about because that image was the inspiration for the story).

And here is an excerpt:
The run didn’t clear my head, didn’t even come close. I tried, I really did, to lose myself in the road, but I couldn’t. Every time my thoughts drifted, every time I started to just myself  go, mentally, two images flashed into my brain: the picture of the pilot Mrs. Peterson gave me and the white lace bra and panty set. I couldn’t let it go because I kept coming back to imagining myself dressed like, looking like, that pilot in the picture. She was beautiful, stunning even. And Mrs. Peterson, with some apparent help from my fiancée, expected me to look like that. I couldn’t let it go, because I was marching to my execution. I felt emasculated enough when I was out of work—though I assumed finding work would end that—but now the job itself, by design, was going to emasculate me even further. 
Up until two days ago, I was only mentally emasculated, but not it was going to be physical emasculated, too, a physical manifestation of the feelings I’d had for weeks and weeks. That wouldn’t help my thoughts and feelings, it would make them so much worse. I thought work would restore my masculinity, but it was going to do just the opposite. And all with my fiancée’s fucking support!
I tried to let it go, because there was another thought in my mind, a creeping suspicion, a lingering fear. What if I…no, no, I couldn’t think that, no. There was no way. Stop, Dana, stop, I told myself, stop. Run, let it go, run. Run.

Does he masturbate too often

There's a relatively simple solution for that:

Friday, April 20, 2012


"Wait," I said as he entered me, full of self doubt, but it was too late, there was no stopping him now, now once his cock was inside my virgin ass. Ready or not, he was going to fuck me, he was going to cum inside me, he was going to make me feel like a woman.

And as he pushed farther and farther into me I my inhibitions evaporated and I embraced the sissy inside me, the woman inside me, and quite literally, the cock inside me.

It was then that I looked up, when his cock was as far inside me as he could push it, it was then I looked up, looked at my wife sitting across the room, watching, a smile on her face. She knew, I'd never stop him now, knew it was inevitable now, that finally, finally, she'd get what she wanted all these years from me.


What's a boy clit?


A Ridiculously small penis.

Sarcasm, so small it looks like a woman's clitoris.

Your girlfriend's angry at you and at a very crowded party full of people that know you AND her, she takes a megaphone and announces that you have a boy-clit. The music stops and everyone's looking at you, pointing and laughing.

Thursday, April 19, 2012


Blindfolded, you cannot see him enter the room, only hear him, smell him, sense him.

He doesn't speak, at first doesn't approach you, doesn't acknowledge you.

It was difficult enough, the decision to involve a man in your relationship, to surrender, to accept your mutual desires, hers to be with a man, yours to be a cuckold.

But neither of you anticipated what he wanted, not just to be with her, which he did, often, but more, he wanted you, too.

Finally, after minutes that seem like hours, after he poured himself a drink, Scotch, a man's drink, finally, he walks to you, takes your hair in his hand, leans down, whispers in your ear.

"Tonight, you're mine, sissy, all mine."

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Love it!


An alpha man wants to flirt with your wife.

A beta (sissy) wants to sit across the room and watch.

Some pictures just get my blood flowing

This is certainly thought provoking;


His new boss wanted to make it very clear the things she expected from him, some of which were of a very personal nature.

Hanging Around

Ahhh, jams a sissy can find herself in.


"Well of course it's going to hurt, Peter, that's kind of the point."


Love it

Thursday, April 12, 2012


I suspect if I show this picture to the average man, he gets turned on and thinks about how badly he'd like to fuck her.

Of course, that's not what I thought when I saw this. I get turned on, don't get me wrong; but I don't think about how badly I want to fuck her, instead, I think about how badly I want to get down on my knees and submit to her, how badly I want to lick her feet, her shoe. But then, I'm a sissy.

Be careful what you beg for... just might come true.


Still Love Blindfolds


From the Polish site,

Source |

Monday, April 9, 2012


"Please, please, can't I take them off today? Just this once? I've done everything you've asked; I've dressed how you want, I've taken the hormones, I've been the perfect girl."

"And the perfect girl you'll remain, because, as I've told you at least a hundred times, that little boy clit of your is NOT going inside me ever again."