Content Advisory: Sissification, Feminization, DubCon, Hypnosis, Futanari on Male
Government Sanctioned Feminization. In theory, a crazy woman's dream of punishing any man who dared step out of line. In practice, no one thought it would hold its own. They were wrong. It gained support in the US first, going after various levels of convicted criminals, known sex offenders and harassers. Sure, the politicians fought it because it meant half of them would end up feminized or worse.
However, the "incredible turnaround rate" helped the program gain more steam. Pretty soon, the program worked its way down into the school system as a punishment for "perverted and deviant behavior." It scared some kids back in line, but we all knew the program was going to find a way to go after all men eventually. The smallest infraction could land you in chastity for varying lengths of time. Criminal offenses resulted in full feminization, usually followed by being assigned new jobs. They were normally placed in government run brothels or rented out as maids, assistants and the like. Husbands were turned into legal slaves to their wives who could have them feminized at a moment's notice. Or they went to whatever family member or friend or whoever was willing to claim them.
Those who refused and fought back were allowed to continue leaving as men. After castration. Chemical castration. Either way, eventually any man lived as a sissy slave or worker, or as a eunuch. Either way, they were assigned legal overseas that dictated their lives. Those who managed to slip through the cracks lived in constant fear. The slightest mistake could end up with them being processed and feminized.
I was tired of living in that fear. It sounds insane, but I would rather be processed on my terms. It was better than being turned in over liking a naughty picture online or not overextending courtesy to someone. Or accidentally violating the curfew unattended sissies and unprocessed men had.
So, I gave my story and reasoning to the receptionist at the nearest processing office. I was ushered into an immaculate waiting room with a single camera watching diligently. I could only imagine how big of a joke I looked like to them. Not attractive enough to be set aside as a glorified breeder. Living in constant fear. Willing to just give up and be feminized.
"Well, hello, Mr. Wells." The woman who entered was drop dead gorgeous. Almost glistening silver hair tied up in a neat bun. Sharp blue eyes. Flawless tan skin. Curves bursting at the seams of her suit. "Or should I say Ms. Wells? My name is Lillian Blackwell. I've been informed of your situation. I commend you for taking this brave step. Well, stand up. Let's get a good look at you."
I rose from the chair slowly, flushing and trying to hide my erection from her. She instructed me to strip nonchalantly. I obliged, fighting back tears of frustration and embarrassment. Layer by layer, I peeled away my clothes, silently cursing my hard-on away, but to no avail.
"You don't have anything I haven't seen before," she scoffed, eyeing my manhood. "A good five and a half inches. Not impressive." Her hand lashed out, groping my package. "Average testes." Her gaze swept over me. "Meat in all the right places. A little exercise won't hurt. Hmm. I can see you with a C... maybe a D cup. Get that ass in shape before we give you the serum. Yes, Ms. Wells, you'll make a nice girl."
"What happens next?"
"You'll be assigned an overseer who will be responsible for keeping you in line," she answered promptly. "That shouldn't be a problem in your case. No criminal record. Graduated in the top of your class in high school and undergrad. You should be off the market in a few days."
"And then?"
"Well by then, you should be a few rounds into your behavior adjustment exercises, which usually start the same day of processing," she explained. "Blood tests too. To make sure you're not crawling with icky diseases. Well, follow me. Let's get you sized for your new wardrobe. Leave those rags here."
We exited the room, flanked by two large, muscled futanari security guards. One of them shoved a heavy robe into my chest, rushing me to put it on. I followed Blackwell through the halls, catching glimpses of others at varying stages of feminization. Some resisting makeup. Others struggling with bras. Training to walk in heels--stumbling in heels.
"What about work?"
"Given your clean record, you'll have a few more options than most," she answered. "You graduated in communications. Maybe we can find you a CSR job. Maybe a call center."
The walk ended in what could have passed for a fashion boutique. It was a closet for those beginning their processing. A bubbly blond popped out from the back with a bag full of things already.
"I couldn't help but hear the news Ms. B!" She beamed. "So, I took a peak at the cameras and got Ms. Wells a few things picked out already. And I know you're busy, so I knew you'd want her to have the essentials quickly."
"Thank you, Alice. You're a celebrity already, Ms. Wells," Blackwell added, playfully slapping my ass. "The first man to volunteer to be processed. Well, go get changed. Let's see what you pick out for your first day."
I smiled weakly, accepting the bag from the blond. She pointed toward the dressing room, which was comfortable. Enough to change without bumping into the wall every few movements at least. I dug through the bag quickly, settling on a pair of black and purple boy shorts to go under fitted sweats. They bought an uncomfortable level of attention to my ass and even more to my manhood, awkwardly tucked into the soothing embrace of the fabric. For a top, I found the baggiest t-shirt I could, which still wasn't enough to fall over the pants.
"It's a start," Blackwell sighed. "Now, let's get you into your first round of conditioning. I'll have to note that your sense of fashion has to be molded a bit."
The next walk was shorter with less sights to behold. The conditioning rooms were secluded for maximum effect, she explained. I'd start off with a couple hours of short bursts of conditioning videos. In underwear only. To keep any potential messes from ruining my new clothes.
I was strapped into a slightly worn, leather chair. Eyes rigged open. Headphones secured over my ears. Left in the dark except for the lone screen. The videos started. Seductive whispers of letting out my inner sissy. Giving into the buried need to service my betters. Images of alpha, breeding cocks flashed across the screen. Large, thick with heavy balls full of hot pink. Ramming sissy throats. Crammed into tight, feminized assholes. Cum splattering exhausted sissies. Instructions to give in to a buried hunger for cock and jizz in all my holes. To drop to my knees before my alpha betters. To always be ready and willing to service them.
The first round went by quickly, followed by a slowly creeping silence. The second round started with more intense videos clips. Explaining how the feminized only existed for the use by Alphas in the new world. Pussy was a thing of the past. Throats only existed for ramming and guzzling load after load of spunk. Asses were cum dumps. Bodies were tools for serving and fucking.
The third round intensified still.
Good sissies were ready and willing to service at all times.
Always hungry for cock and cum.
Clitties were useless appendages.
Sissy cum was unneeded--a mess sissies should dive to clean up.
I lost track of time as the videos rolled by. Eventually the lights flashed back on, and I noticed how wet my crouch was. I'd came all over myself several times while engulfed by the footage. I tried to write it off. Being bombarded by all of that. It was only a matter of time. But still, I felt dirty.
"You are going to make a good girl," Blackwell applauded. "Imagine how many repressed sissies are out there, too scared to turn themselves over for processing. Now, clean yourself up, Ms. Wells."
Part of my brain was still struggling to fully grasp when I had made such a mess. Still, part of me moves on its own, stripping my underwear away and scooping smears of my own cum up toward my mouth. I'd never tasted jizz before, especially not even my own, but I couldn't stop myself. To her amusement, I tasted it.
Unknowingly smiling as I slurped it down. It was musty, but not entirely unpleasant. Thick. A bit sweet. A bit salty.
"Wonderful!" She cheered. "Eating your own cum on day one. Someone must have ramped up the conditioning material."