Sissy Land

Discussion in 'Member fiction' started by Ms. Joanne, Aug 4, 2019.

  1. Ms. Joanne
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    Ms. Joanne Long term member

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    Sissy Land

    By Ms Joanne

    Part One

    For most people, visiting an amusement park offers a one-of-a-kind experience. An experience which they can treasure for years to come, as they recall the shared joys of spending quality time with friends, family or even complete strangers. Everyone just unwinding and forgetting their troubles. After all an amusement park is simply that, a way to amuse ourselves and have fun. But to a young sissy girl like Amber Forbes, Disney World simply wouldn’t cut it.

    “Donald Duck and Mickey Mouse are for kids,” she would say with disgust. “I want something far more fun… I want to go to Sissy Land!”

    A sissy, by her very nature tends to be most curious, which also means they are highly prone to being impulsive, even reckless, if not sufficiently supervised. This is then compounded by their sexual desires, which are highly susceptible to giddy extremism, especially if suitably coerced by powerful influencing factors. Clothing, sex toys, porn and strong willed people all have their part to play as far as an impressionable sissy is concerned.

    Amber Forbes was twenty six years old, and had a job working as an assistant in the local pharmacy, where she sadly had to keep her sissy identity secret. She had lovely light brown hair, styled into a pixie cut, which gave her a very girly appearance. Fortunately her employer paid it no mind, apart from regular comments about the male youth of today looking more and more girly by the decade.

    “Young people!” Mallory Miller harrumphed. “All eyeliner and zany haircuts. I blame that heavy metal rubbish.”

    “Yes of course Mr Miller,” replied Amber submissively, not wanting to upset the old man as she restocked the shelves with everything from headache tablets, to sanitary towels and toothpaste.

    “Mark my words Andy”, Amber cursed quietly under her breath hearing her unfortunate male name. “It will be the downfall of civilization, do you hear?” He was pointing his fat wrinkly finger at her now, almost accusing. “Boys will all be marching down the streets in dresses and high heels if we don’t nip this nonsense in the bud right now. What a bunch of degenerates!” He scowled.

    Amber sighed, such intolerance was everywhere, but Mallory Miller wasn’t really a bad man, just one who was traditionally schooled, very religious, and highly opinionated. “I pity him,” thought Amber, “if he only knew how much fun it was, and how much better it makes me feel.”

    “Well Andy, will be time to close up soon. Best you head off right now, since I remember you said you had a letter to post.” Sometimes Mallory could be a genuinely nice guy, at least when he wasn’t being a loud mouthed bigot.

    Amber beamed with delight, “Thanks Mr Miller, see you tomorrow,” with that she grabbed her neon pink lightweight jacket and was out of the door.

    As she strutted down the street wiggling her curvy bubble butt in those skimpy narrow stonewashed jeans, she attracted the usual wolf whistles. It was always the same types, either bored construction workers or happy drunks stumbling out of local bars. To be fair she looked very femme, at least from a distance, or if the complimentary commentator had his beer goggles on.

    One time she even thought she had got lucky, when as she looked at some glittering, pretty, pink pumps in a shop window, a middle aged guy had his hand wandering all over her ass. Sadly he couldn’t run away fast enough when Amber had turned, smiled with delight and offered to suck his cock down the nearby alleyway. “Life just isn’t fair,” she had said with a despairing tone.

    Quickening her pace she realised she must make the last post, all her dreams hinged on the contents of the letter. She had taken extra care to make sure it was completely gummed down, sprayed it with a little perfume, and even left a wet kiss on the back of the envelope. The pink lipstick had dried thoroughly, but she wanted the recipient to know how completely serious she was.

    The letter contained her application, a once in a lifetime opportunity to visit Sissy Land. Unlike other amusement parks, one does not simply walk into Sissy Land. The rules are very strict and only the most dedicated sissies are ever offered the opportunity to visit, sadly most fail at the application stage.

    She had heard about the place on the grapevine many years ago. Being highly kinky in nature, Sissy Land cannot be found on any map, and it was only ever mentioned in hushed tones, being considered by many to be an elaborate sissy myth. But Amber was very fortunate one day, when she returned home from work. There it was, an ebony coloured envelope with elaborate gold lettering just lying in the mailbox. The letter proved Sissy Land was real, she had studied the letter with both diligence and a child-like excitement she could not contain.

    Greetings Amber Forbes,
    It is with great felicitations that we send you this missive for your perusal. We have been studying your curious sissy ways in meticulous detail for quite some time now, and we feel you may be a suitably interesting candidate. One who may even merit the once in a lifetime opportunity of entering the enchanting pink vales and golden turreted halls of the highly acclaimed gem that is Sissy Land.

    Do please complete the enclosed application form with considerable care, for we cannot abide sloppy handwriting. Take note that opportunities such as these simply do not grow on trees. If we do not receive your application within seventy two hours this unique chance will slip through your fingertips forever.

    We certainly wouldn’t wish you to suffer the terrible torment of failure, especially not when you so very close now to finally skipping through the vales with the pretty pink unicorns.

    We wish you every success with your application, young sissy.

    Yours faithfully,

    Cynthia Schroeder- Sissy Resource Manager Sissy Land

    P.S. We know this is an extremely exciting letter to receive and we understand you may become rather giddy, but please do not stain the application form or it will be immediately rejected.
    The application form itself was incredible and Amber had become very curious when going through the many questions. In total there were over three hundred, covering a wide variety of subjects. At the top of the form a line clearly stated “Answer all questions honestly and provide as much detail as possible.”

    How many cocks have you sucked? Have you ever been spit roasted? Do you like pretty ponies? The questions made Amber’s mind race. Do you have dreams about unicorns? Are you shaved? How femme is your voice? Do you daydream? Are you a vacuous bimbo? Do you prefer stockings or pantyhose? How short should a sissy’s skirt be? Do you wear panties every single day? How long have you been in chastity? What colour is your device? Do you consume more than forty eight hours of porn a week? The entire application form was like this, and by the time Amber had finally completed it she had felt very drained.

    “Well I do some of that,” she thought, “as for all the other things I know I’ve been totally honest.” And with that she posted the letter into the mailbox and started to walk home, knowing that she could finally dress up tonight and be her true self at last.

    The next two days were uneventful, just more mundane drudgery of stacking the pharmacy shelves and dealing with customers. On the third day when she returned home, she found another ebony envelope. She couldn’t contain her enthusiasm as she dashed inside to open it.

    She read with haste, hoping so much that she hadn’t failed. “I couldn’t bear that,” she thought.

    Greetings Amber Forbes,
    Gratuitous felicitations and joyful salutations. It is my immense pleasure to inform you that your application has been completely successful.

    The next step for you sweet sissy girl is a most significant one, for it will change your life forever. At midnight tonight, a car will arrive at your home. The driver’s name is Benito and he will call on you. Do make sure you are prepared to depart immediately, so you may join your sissy friends here with us in esteemed Sissy Land.

    We have taken steps to inform your employer that his days of treating such a sweet girl like his pathetic underling and wage slave are over. Plus we also made some rather educating remarks about his appalling attitude, and we have suggested that he mend his ways.

    This may be a great shock to you, but don’t worry. You will want for nothing, in your new sissy playground! You truly deserve this and are in dire need of a very pleasurable sissy vacation.

    Make sure to apply your makeup, also ensure your body is smoothly shaved or waxed. Dress casually, preferably in attractive colours for your imminent journey. Pantyhose and a short skirt would be more appropriate than leggings, and do wear suitably extreme footwear, at least six inch heels. Keep in mind that there is absolutely no need to bring anything else with you, apart from the letters you have received from us, which you will hand to Benito.

    I very much look forward to meeting you shortly.

    Warmest regards,

    Cynthia Schroeder- Sissy Resource Manager Sissy Land
    Amber’s mind was in a state of both ecstasy and amazement. “I can’t believe they told Mr Miller!” But despite this unbelievable turn of events she focused on what was important. “I’m going to Sissy Land. Oh my God, I’m going to Sissy Land!”

    By 11.30 pm she was ready to depart. Patience is not typically a sissy virtue, so to pass the time she admired herself in her full length mirror. “I look so hot!” She exclaimed, gazing at her slim body draped in her finest and sexiest sissy attire. She wore a baby pink long sleeved satin blouse, along with a high waist and exceptionally short black spandex miniskirt. Over the top she had fastened her glossy black patent belt, which featured a large silver hooped buckle. Beneath the blouse she had on her favourite black lace bra, sadly she had no real breasts, but the comfort of the bra made her feel extremely femme.

    Her panties were black with pretty baby pink lace trim, beneath them her limp clitty was locked away in her pink and exceedingly small chastity device. Amber had also made sure to wear a panty liner so as not to stain her beautiful panties, because she knew from experience that a very giddy sissy might leak heavily. Over the top of the panties she wore sheer smoky black pantyhose and admired the way the light caught it and made it shimmer. Her fingernails and toenails were painted a glossy pink and on her feet she wore black shiny patent platform sandals with six inch heels.

    She had done an outstanding job with her makeup. Black eyeliner, heavy black mascara, smoky eye shadow, a little pink blusher and luscious pink lipstick. To which she had also applied copious amounts of clear lip gloss. Jewellery was kept to a minimum, just a pair of hooped gold bangle earrings and her anklet with the proud letters hanging from it like a badge of office, which spelt “sissy”.

    Smiling at her reflection she felt so alive, wishing she could stay in this moment till the end of her days… but the car was due soon and Sissy Land was at last within reach.

    Her black purse with the gorgeous gold chain strap was thrown over her shoulder, it contained several items. Firstly her chastity key, since being single, she sadly had to self-lock. She had also bundled a few tissues in there, her cosmetics and her identity card, as well as three hundred dollars held in a money clip. The two ebony envelopes she clutched firmly in her hands. She got up and strutted over to the window, peering out at the dark street. “Was that headlights? Yes… yes it was,”… a girly squeal of delight… as the car pulled up outside. She switched out the lights and walked down the stairs to the hallway. Then a car door slammed shut and she noticed the sound of heavy footsteps approaching, and then there was a loud knock at the door.

    She opened it, full of nerves and enthusiasm. A heavy set man stood there, he was darkly tanned and had neat short cut hair. Oddly the man wore a pair of mirrored sunglasses.

    “Good evening, Miss Forbes,” he said in a heavy Italian accent, then smiled.

    “Hello, Benito?” Amber questioned.

    “Yes Miss, Benito at your service”. He bowed deeply and then said, “Are you ready to depart?”

    “Am I ever,” beamed Amber. “Just let me lock up please.”

    And with that the man bowed once more, “Of course Miss Forbes.”

    Amber switched off the hallway light and stepped outside, she turned and locked the front door securely, placing the key in her purse.

    “If you’d please follow me Miss Forbes,” gestured Benito. Amber walked quickly behind him and then she saw it, “Oh my God!” She gazed lovingly and pointed at the hot pink limousine with opaque black windows, parked at the end of her driveway. “Wow, tell me that’s for me?” She was almost jumping on the spot in girly delight.

    “It is indeed Miss Forbes. But first the letters if you please.” Benito extended an outstretched hand.

    “Yes, here they are.” Amber couldn’t hand him the letters fast enough.

    “Thank you Miss. I must say your look truly lovely tonight.” As he pocketed the envelopes and opened the rear limousine door for her.

    “Why thank you, that’s so sweet!” Amber was grinning from ear to ear, then she bowed her head and placing one nylon covered leg into the limousine, she stepped in and then slid into place. The door slammed shut behind her, and Amber heard the lock click securely. “Hang on!” She exclaimed. “No need to lock me in.”

    But Benito paid it no mind, for as she gazed out of the window, he turned and smiled. In one hand was a zippo lighter and in the other the ebony letters. Amber was really spooked as they ignited, flames... making the papers writhe in agony as they burned to a crisp, the fiery glow reflected in those sunglasses. A minute later, all evidence of the Sissy Land correspondence was ash, drifting away on the gentle evening breeze.

    Considering the situation she was now in, Amber was desperate to get out of the car, but the doors were locked. Hearing Benito get into the driver’s seat she pounded on the glass window separating her compartment. “Let me out, you bastard!” The panic evident in her voice.

    Suddenly there was a loud whooshing noise as a cloudy pink gas enveloped her, Amber squirmed and choked, gasping for air, her vision growing blurry, as everything glittered with a strange haze. “Such pretty colours,” she moaned and fell completely unconscious.


    Amber had no notion of how much time had passed when she awoke groggily. Rubbing her eyes she gazed around and took in the beauty of the attractive pink meadow. Feeling the gentle fresh breeze and the warmth of the sun on her face. She drank in the scent of the meadow and could pick out the fragrances of many flowers. At the edge of the meadow was a large forest, with gargantuan trees which dwarfed the American Redwoods she had once seen. The leaves were a bright pink, but also gold, and even purple. In the distance she heard a sound and caught the briefest glimpse of a truly magnificent creature galloping away into the trees… it was a unicorn… a pink unicorn!

    Amber tried to rise, but felt such a pain in her ass… correction her pussy. Had she called it that before? Not that she recalled, but her mind was so foggy. Why did it hurt so much? Dwelling on vague memories floating through her head which made no sense, her thoughts were tangled. “Was it a horn I felt inside me?” She wondered, feeling so exhausted.

    “Hey sleepy”, a voice said, and then in a gently mocking manner. “Did you ride the horny unicorn again?”

    Amber turned, and caught sight of a lovely blonde girl, with striking blue eyes, wearing a beguiling metallic mini dress in shining purple. Her long legs were encased in silver pantyhose, which glittered and made Amber dizzy. On her feet she wore a pair of metallic purple platform pumps, the heels must have been at least seven inches high. The light shone from behind her, dazzling Amber’s vision and once more from sheer fatigue she fell deeply asleep.
     
  2. Ms. Joanne
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    Ms. Joanne Long term member

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    Part Two

    When next she woke, Amber was in a dimly lit room… it felt cold. She could barely perceive the walls, for they seemed to be painted black. Her limbs wouldn’t move, was she restrained? Indeed she was, her ankles tied together and then bound to a high backed leather chair. Her hands also constrained and tied securely to the arm rests. Around her neck she felt a strap, if she strained against it she could feel herself choking, so decided against further movement.

    Amber’s desperate eye’s roved around the room, seeking an exit, a potential escape route if she could only find a way to free herself from the restraints. But she felt so tired, confused, even sick, and part of her simply didn’t want to leave. Instead that part wanted to stay exactly where she was, to do as she was told. Then she felt pain, her breasts felt heavy and they also hurt, but why did they hurt? She also felt so desperately hungry… was she starving?

    There was a buzzing sound in her ears, and then that sound suddenly changed pitch and became static… white noise. “Sounds like rain”, Amber thought. Then she felt something pump into her, via a tube in her neck, it made her woozy, caused her thoughts to blur. She wanted to cry out, she even tried to scream, but a large gag prevented it. The gag felt rubbery, but it seemed to be connected to a large, rigid, and phallic object which was deep inside her throat. She wanted to retch and felt the bile rising, and for a moment she thought she would choke, but then a voice in her head told her to remain calm. Amber realised that the gag must have some form of restricted air way. As long as she only took very measured amounts of air and did not overexcite herself, she could still breathe.

    Fingers now, running through her hair, cool, smooth fingers… as if gloved. Now a voice reverberating in her ears, overriding the static. “There, there, sweetie. Did you miss me?” The tone considerate, gentle, but also Amber could detect a cruel and calculating edginess. “I must admit the breast augmentation went exceptionally well.” Noticing for the first time that her blouse was gone, Amber suddenly felt a smooth, cold glove reach over her shoulder and trace her large breasts, which were supported by a peephole latex bra. She felt her nipples grow erect as they were squeezed and teased, with both hands now. Delightful perfume flooded her senses, a powerful jasmine. Her clitty stirred with delight and she wished she could cum, but the hard chastity device prevented any significant arousal. Instead she felt herself leak, as pre-cum dripped and ran down one nylon covered leg.

    “Such a good girl,” soothed the voice. “I am very proud of you sweetie!” The cruelness had become gentler, more subtle, but it was still there. Within minutes the tantalising and tormenting hands stopped pleasuring Amber’s nipples and returned to her head. Amber wanted to turn and look at her captor, but the restraints kept her facing directly ahead. Then she felt something being lowered over her face… was it a mask? No… it seemed different, goggles perhaps? Finally she realised it was a visor, which pressed firmly against her face and forced her to stare directly ahead. “You’re so close now,” calmed the voice, “so close to reaching Sissy Land!”

    The thought delighted Amber and heightened her instinctive curiosity. “Sissy Land… the dream was real… I have to get there.”

    “Pay attention to what you see now,” commanded the voice.

    A burst of psychedelic images flashed before her eyes on the visor at rapid speed. There were also words too, but she couldn’t really make them out, since they only appeared for a fraction of a section, and Amber simply didn’t want to look away from the incredible scenes being shown.

    Such compelling and arousing sex scenes, sissy’s sucking and stroking cocks, sissy girls fucked hard by powerful men, cum spilling over hot lips, as greedy tongues lapped up the thick, creamy discharge.

    Amber’s clitty strained at the sight of it, as she watched a beautiful sissy girl gorge herself on a large wine glass, full to the rim, of hot and sticky cum. If she hadn’t been gagged, she would have licked her lips at the very sight of it. Yet her mouth tasted salty, almost meaty too, then sweet like pineapple. She thought for a second, that it was her drinking from that very wine glass, considering that idea in her mind, she became aware that it was not just the cum from one man, but from many.

    Then that scenario was suddenly replaced, portraying a different scene, as horny sissy girls licked sticky cum off each other’s faces, in some kind of ritualistically delightful hedonism. Another flash and the other sissy girl was facing her with her mouth open, daring Amber to jointly feast on the milky, white load on her tongue. The moment Amber felt herself... kiss those lips and force her own tongue... into the sissy’s mouth, the image was gone.

    Another scene appeared, Amber faced a large, thick, black cock, at least eleven inches long, daring her to tease it with her tongue, and suck on the head.

    Within seconds that image transferred to another and another, lastly Amber heard giggling feminine laughter. Upon seeing clearly the black, lubricated strapon in her face, she felt the compulsion to suck... deep throat it, to gobble it down… like some kind of desperate horny slut and have it face fuck her with such overbearing intensity. Then she was down on all fours, a powerful woman behind her, forcing that strapon into her pussy, and pounding her over and over, to the ultimate high of submissive ecstasy filled oblivion. Amber moaned in her mind, even cried out, and with that the scenes looped over, sometimes faster, other times slower. The process repeating for what seemed like forever. For in this state, combined with extreme isolation, and the intense sounds of sexual pleasure, time lost all meaning… as did reality. Overwhelmed, Amber slid once more into the inky blackness of sleep.


    “Wake up, sleepy head!” A familiar voice chided.

    “What, where?” Amber drowsily responded.

    “I can’t believe you slept out here in the meadow again.” Amber rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, it was the girl in the purple dress, and those insanely high pumps.

    “Hey,” Replied Amber. “I know you, don’t I?”

    “Well, what a mean thing to say sweetie,” remarked the girl, with a slightly offended tone. “Of course you do. I’m Barbara.”

    “You seem so very familiar.” Indicated a confused Amber.

    “I’m your sissy tour guide, you dizzy airhead! Bimbo Barbara ring any bells?”

    “Oh yeah, sure, sorry Barbara.” Amber was sure she’d met Barbara yesterday, when she arrived, but arrived where? She gazed around, still so dizzy and befuddled. “Where are we Barbara?”

    “Gee, I know it’s been a long trip sweetie, but you must have had way too many of the free margarita’s on the flight over here.”

    Amber struggled to her knees, and Barbara extended her hands to help her up. “You made it sweetie, you’re in Sissy Land!”

    “Oh wow!” Exclaimed a giddy Amber, her smile was infectious.

    “Come on sweetie, let’s take a walk.” Grinned Barbara, as she held Amber’s hand and led her down a smooth pink stone path, which led out of the meadow. “Besides, I think you could use a bite to eat.”

    Amber surveyed her surroundings, the pink meadow with its blades of soft grass, the path with its polished pink stone, almost reflecting the two sissy girls as they walked along. Up ahead there was a sign post made of black ebony with gilded golden letters. In one direction the sign was marked, “Sissy Land Plaza,” the other way indicated “Madam Desira’s House of Torment.” A small stall was setup next to the signpost, the smell of delicious food cooking and enticing hungry customers. A middle aged man stood there in a beige coloured dirty raincoat. His face was craggy and worn, and for the strangest reason he reminded Amber of Peter Falk. In fact in one corner of his mouth was a cheap, foul-smelling stogie.

    “Good morning girls,” a gravelly voice remarked in a very pleasant tone. “Feeling a little peckish?” He pointed to the menu sign attached to his stall.

    “Hello, and yes I am really hungry,” commented Amber, as she read through the list of wondrously tempting snacks. The options were, Dildo Dog, Big Daddy Burger, Black Mamba, Submarine Surprise and lastly Dark Mistress.

    “It all sounds so amazing,” grinned Amber. “What’s Submarine Surprise?”

    “A true delicacy,” stated the man in his gruff voice. “It’s long, hard and full of semen.”

    Barbara giggled, and then said. “Give me a Dildo Dog please, Mario.”

    “What size would you like?” Enquired Columbo, since Amber was really sure it was in fact Columbo… or just Peter Falk. Either way the resemblance was uncanny. Amber became fixated on it and that thought was making her head seriously hurt.

    “Remind me of the options please”, Remarked Barbara. “You know how a dizzy bimbo like myself forgets stuff.”

    “Well, there’s compact, standard, ribbed, maxi and of course godlike.”

    “Ribbed please.”

    “Of course, one Dildo Dog for the beautiful lady in the purple dress coming right up. Would you like the extra special sauce too?”

    “Definitely!” Barbara exclaimed cheerfully.

    Amber watched as Columbo cooked the ribbed frankfurter sausage, it was dildo shaped and had many pronounced ribs along its length. Within minutes the sausage was placed into a butter smeared bread bap, and garnished with fried onions. He grabbed for a condiment dispenser and squeezed thick, white, glistening sauce all over the sausage.

    “What’s the sauce, Columbo?” Enquired Amber.

    “Excuse me?” Remarked the stall vendor with shock. “My name is Mario, missy. As to your question, special sauce contains many secret ingredients, but I can tell you it is frequently ejaculated from the indigenous Bukkake Tree.”

    “No way. This is such bullshit!” Cried a defiant Amber, her head pounding now. It was all too much and without warning she felt herself growing more unbalanced and started to fall.

    “I think your friend is feinting,” commented the strange food vendor.

    With a thud, Amber hit the stone path and slipped into unconsciousness.


    In a high-tech control room filled with plasma screens and computers, a large group of support staff watched Amber’s situation on the largest monitor with a sense of great alarm, even hysteria. One male voice cried out. “Get the damn medical techs in there, right now!”

    A black clad shiny gloved fist pounded into a chair armrest. A voice that chilled the blood, echoed around the room. Quiet at first, but then rising to a terrifying screech. “If it’s not too much trouble, could one of you misguided morons please tell me, who put Peter fucking Falk into my simulation?”

    “It was Vincent”, a female voice accused, pointing a finger at the spectacled technician next to her.

    Mistress Cynthia turned in her black leather office chair. “Benito, bring that imbecile here immediately!”

    The muscular security operative in his mirrored shades, paced forward at rapid speed and tossed geeky and very scrawny looking Vincent out of his swivel chair. Two iron hands picked him up from the ground, and then dragged him by the collar, frogmarching him across the room, before finally forcing him down to the level of Mistress Cynthia’s black patent and red soled pumps. His face covered in sweat, he tried to smooth his brown gangly shoulder length hair, while also trying to adjust his steamy spectacles.

    “I’m dead,” thought Vincent, as he gazed with wonder at her majestic sheer black pantyhose encased legs. Then he craned his neck and looked longingly up at her latex outfit, a pencil skirt and blouse with silver buttons. Her hands were covered with short black latex gloves. Vincent noticed her attire was shined to a high polish, as he continued to gawp at her curvaceous figure. Never before had he ever been so close, he was aroused and excited, while also terrified as he contemplated his imminent departure from this world.

    “Why exactly did you create this chaos Vincent? Do you personally resent me, or am I just not paying you sufficiently for your services?” Mistress Cynthia enquired in a silky, but malevolent tone.

    “Forgive me Mistress!” He gabbled. “It was just an innocent joke.”

    “Just a joke… you stupid fuck!” Screeched Cynthia, kicking Vincent in the face with her six inch heel. He bowled over, and clutched his stinging cheek which had a deep and bloody gouge. She recovered her composure and pointed her gloved finger. “If you had actually taken the time to read Sissy Subject 795’s application form, you would have noticed her very clear answer to question 127. What is your favourite television show?

    Vincent was sobbing now. “I’m sure you can guess, can’t you stupid boy!” Cynthia stated, her emerald green eyes full of malice.

    The tears streaming down his face, a blubbering Vincent responded. “Yes Mistress. It was Columbo Mistress.” He then prostrated himself before her and begged pathetically. “Please don’t kill me, Mistress!”

    “Kill you? Laughed Cynthia as she ran a hand through her long mane of flame red hair. “What kind of monster do you think I am?” Another mocking laugh rang out. “I would never waste a valuable resource.” She turned to the security operative. “Benito, please ensure our new Sissy Subject 796 receives full street whore induction conditioning immediately.”

    “No, please… have mercy!” Cried the foolhardy Vincent.

    “Hush now! Besides I think Victoria suits you so much better.” Cynthia considered for a couple of seconds and then said. ”No, actually on second thought, that’s way too elegant for a sissy slut! I shall call you Vicki… Vicki the nasty skank, who blows dirty old men’s sweaty cocks in filthy alleyways.”

    “Forgive me… please!” Implored Vincent.

    “Do ensure that when this especially nasty little slut has received full conditioning, breast implants and suitable hooker attire, that her memory is also wiped. Then dump her somewhere with a serious prostitution problem… like in the Democratic Republic of Congo!”

    “Yes Mistress,” Replied Benito.

    Then she smiled with luscious red lips and waved a mocking goodbye to the newly named Vicki, who Benito lifted from the floor and dragged screaming out of the control room.

    Cynthia returned her gaze to the other technicians. “Now, ensure that young Amber is sufficiently attended to. I haven’t wasted my valuable time and effort, just for some idiotic cretin to piss it all away.”

    There was a beep, and a young tech called Tina quickly answered the phone. “One moment please,” she stated, before turning to Cynthia. “Mistress, your guests are arriving at the helipad.”

    “I see”, mused Cynthia. “Please send Natasha to give my dear friends the full guided tour. I have more important matters to attend to. Do pass on my compliments and inform Natasha I will meet them in the Sanctum.”

    “Yes Mistress”. Tina replied dutifully bowing her head, as Cynthia strutted out of the room, her mood now as black as her exquisite attire.


    One mile above ground, a pretty girl in her mid-twenties waited on the helipad, as an executive black helicopter touched down. As the rotor blades slowed, three passengers disembarked with care. The girl, Natasha stepped forward, greeting the guests with a welcoming smile.

    The first was a Japanese man in his late fifties, he wore a black suit with silver pinstripe and small horn rimmed glasses”. Natasha bowed. “Welcome to Sissy Land. Honourable Master Takeda. If you will please wait one moment for your fellow guests, the tour will start presently.” The man bowed in return, and spoke in heavily accented English. “Thank you.”

    The next guest was a tall and very dark haired woman, probably in her mid-thirties. Her hair was swept back high and ponytailed. Her eyes were covered by large sunglasses, but her lips were a dark crimson red. She wore a zebra print mini dress, with nude coloured shiny hose and matching zebra pumps. From her wrists dangled expensive gold bracelets. Natasha greeted her, once more bowing. “Welcome to Sissy Land, esteemed Mistress Alexandra.”

    The women spoke in excellent English but her voice had a trace accent of Russian, maybe Ukrainian, Natasha wasn’t sure. “Thank you. I have waited a very long time to visit this place.” Her tone was pleasant, but then it turned forceful and abrupt. “However to be greeted by an underling is insulting. Why does my old friend Cynthia not greet me herself?”

    Natasha felt pressed, but long experience had taught her to remain calm when dealing with these kinds of people. “My Mistress passes on her compliments to you, Mistress Alexandra. Sadly a business matter currently requires her full attention. However let me assure you that I am fully versed in the day to day running of Sissy Land, and I can answer any questions you may have. My Mistress has also tasked me with conducting your tour.” Natasha gestured to one side. “If you would please wait with Master Takeda, the tour will start presently.”

    “That is satisfactory,” said Mistress Alexandra, and sauntered over to the waiting area, where she proceeded to chat with the Japanese Master.

    The last guest was a pale man of average height, with a bald head, in his forties. He also wore sunglasses and had a neatly trimmed brown goatee beard. His attire was entirely black, consisting of trousers, combat boots, a t-shirt and a leather waistcoat. Both forearms were covered with tattoos, and on his wrists he wore black leather wristbands with silver studs.

    “Welcome to Sissy Land, acclaimed Master Kane.” Said Natasha, bowing for the final time.

    “This heat is fucking ridiculous,” said the annoyed and very British cockney accented man. “Nothing here but desert, as far as the eye can see.” He pointed at the hut behind Natasha. “Is that what the daft bitch bought with all her money then, a rundown old shack?” The annoyance changed to genuine amusement. “Knocking shop is it? Wouldn’t surprise me, that’s so like Cynthia.”

    “Not at all, Master Kane. Looks can be deceiving. If you would please follow me.” With that the party walked towards the hut.


    In another part of the complex, Cynthia was speaking to the chief medical technician, while an unconscious Amber remained strapped to her chair.

    “So tell me Cassandra, what’s the damage?”

    “Luckily no damage at all Mistress.” Answered a white uniformed, middle aged woman, with short blonde hair streaked with grey. “Sissy Subject 795 is sleeping peacefully. It seems the introduction of a familiar character, the Columbo element, caused the main problem. Her mind couldn’t accept the virtual simulation as reality, and so it suffered a temporary mental break.”

    “Yes, that idiot Vincent was to blame.” Scowled Cynthia. “This is why we have such a detailed application form, so we can avoid these eventualities.”

    “Please don’t concern yourself Mistress. She’ll be fine in a few hours, and she’s so very close now.”

    “Indeed she is.” A devious smile crept across Cynthia’s face. “She’ll be in Sissy Land by the end of the day!”


    As the tour party proceeded into the hut, they noticed that the exterior had been nothing but a façade. The interior was lined with concrete and a short corridor led to an elevator with heavy set black metallic doors, trimmed with gold. Natasha swiped a card through an electronic reader and the doors groaned open.

    “If you’ll all step inside please.” She beckoned. Within a minute they were all inside the elevator, and the black doors closed. Natasha hit a brightly illuminated pink button. “Please be patient, the main facility is one mile beneath the surface.”

    “Jesus,” Exclaimed Kane. “I take back what I said earlier, Cynthia has real style. This is proper Bond villain madness.”

    “Is this a missile silo?”

    “Yes, at one time I believe it was, Mistress Alexandra.” Replied Natasha.

    “Fabulous!” Remarked Kane enthusiastically, while grinning from ear to ear.

    The elevator continued rumbling downward.

    Natasha then put forward the question. “So what do you all think Sissy Land really is?”

    Takeda looked at Kane and then Alexandra, seeing the confusion on their faces. Finally he adjusted his glasses before speaking. “Well obviously this is Sissy Land, at least where this elevator is taking us.”

    Natasha smiled. “Sadly not, Master Takeda. While the facility does exist physically, as a training and conditioning centre, there is no such place as Sissy Land.”

    “No kinky amusement park then?” Laughed Kane.

    “Oh there is plenty of kink to be found here Master Kane, and I’m sure it will certainly amuse you.”

    The lift finally stopped and the doors opened into a brightly lit corridor. “Sissy Land itself is not actually a place at all… it is a state of mind.” Natasha imparted as the group continued down the corridor.

    “Step one was to create an elaborate lure. A tantalising hook put out on the grapevine. Something which would encourage only the best and most curious sissies to try to find their way here.”

    “Most devious. “Mistress Alexandra giggled.

    Natasha smiled in response and then continued speaking. “Remarkably our little legend of Sissy Land, also had the knock on effect of creating competition between them. Sissies have a notorious habit of trying to outdo one another.”

    “Better bodies, sluttier clothes, you got that right!” Ventured Kane.

    “We did send our agents to monitor the most promising, but it wasn’t really necessary. Sissies by nature, tend to be extravagant exhibitionists, so it was easy to simply follow their online footprint back to the source.”

    “Right, and when you found the most suitable ones you send out an application form?” Commented Kane.

    “Exactly.” Natasha grinned. “Later, we run them through the computer and cross reference to determine their suitability to the conditioning program. In addition it helps to ensure there will be no rogue elements. But the amusing thing is we always want the majority who send us the completed application. Every sissy is a useful resource, and deep down they all want to receive our ebony letters.”

    “Like bloody Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, the whole golden ticket idea warped into twisted kink!” Kane was in hysterics now and couldn’t contain himself.

    “A very fitting analogy, Master Kane. However I would say it’s more like Slutty Sissy and the Fuck Factory.”

    The party started to pass several heavy steel doors, prison style doors with lockable and sliding view ports.

    “What happens here?” Asked Alexandra.

    “Initial processing. A week’s worth of sleep deprivation in extreme isolation. The subjects are given random beatings, combined with frequent high power water hosing. For the first three days we feed them nothing, although they are provided water to drink.”

    “And after three days?” Spoke Takeda.

    “At that point we introduce the Bukkake diet. Being so desperately hungry they will literally gobble anything down. It pays to do it early and get them completely dependent on the taste of cum.”

    Natasha approached one of the steel prison doors and slid open the viewing slot. “If you’d like to see one of our most recent additions, please feel free to gaze upon sweet Marjorie.”

    Inside a dimly lit cell, an old man was huddled into a corner sobbing. His face dirty, bruised and bloody… it was the pharmacy owner, Mallory Miller.

    Kane took a look. “That’s one fuck ugly sissy, looks like someone’s grandpa.”

    Alexandra looked through the slot next. She laughed out loud. “I see you have him in stockings and suspenders already, and what cute little pink shoes. And what a ghastly red wig too, makes him look like sissy version of Baba Yaga.” Naming the legendary Russian grandmother witch. “But why take one so old?”

    “Poor Marjorie fell afoul of my Mistress. She has always been an equal opportunities employer and has many friends from all walks of life, with varied genders and sexual preferences. Gay, bisexual, straight, men, women. She doesn’t approve of bigotry and intolerance. Sadly this one was a bigot, and has now received his just desserts.”

    “How very forward thinking.” Alexandra remarked. “But who would want such an ugly slave?”

    “You would be surprised, Mistress Alexandra. Some of our clients get great pleasure from the older, more experienced and wrinkly sissy. Besides some even have a preference for toothless blowjobs.”

    Alexandra giggled and stepped back from the viewing slot.

    Takeda took one glance in disgust. “This one put the cart before the horse.” Seeing the look of confusion on everyone’s face, he offered an explanation. “Our proverbs are complex, but loosely it means this: Intolerance usually stems from people being unsatisfied with something about themselves which they are not aware of."

    Natasha closed the slot and the tour continued. They passed many more cells, before turning ninety degrees and heading down a flight of stairs.

    “This area is for the next stage of conditioning. Each subject has their original chastity device removed and replaced with our industrial patented. “Sentinel Temptation Denial”.”

    “S.T.D.” Stated Kane, giggling.

    “The initials are rather unfortunate, however the device itself is flawless.” Natasha then stepped forward and pressed a switch to one side, part of the wall slid open and revealed itself as a hidden two way mirror. Inside the room medical technicians in white uniforms, worked on fitting metallic pink chastity devices to ten unconscious sissies.

    “Nothing new here, apart from it being so tiny,” muttered Alexandra.

    “On the contrary, look carefully!” Exclaimed a delighted Takeda. “Do you not see, there is no lock?”

    Natasha explained. “The device is constructed from a composite alloy, which is impervious to cutting tools. It is then coated with a metallic pink resin, but the default colour can of course be changed if our clients prefer, and are willing to pay more. The ring features several deep prongs which are surgically grafted to the pelvic bone. Obviously the subjects are heavily anaesthetised before undergoing the procedure.”

    “Too bad.” Stated Alexandra, shaking her head. “I think they should enjoy such exquisite pain.”

    Natasha said nothing, but simply nodded her head. Mistress Alexandra had a reputation as quite a sadist.

    “Won’t they have cleanliness issues?” Asked Takeda.

    “No, Master Takeda. The S.T.D incorporates a unique lubricant, which keeps the sissy clitty, cleansed and fresh. It also never dries out.”

    “Outstanding!” Takeda complimented. “This will revolutionise chastity.”

    “Unfortunately not. Mistress Cynthia doesn’t wish to draw attention to her secrets. Besides it would quickly put every chastity device manufacturer out of business.”

    Natasha pressed the switch, the wall retracted closing off the viewing mirror. She then led the group to another stairwell and pointed downward.

    “On the level below we provide our sissies with breast implants. Typically a sissy receives the largest breasts possible, without making their overall body shape look completely ridiculous. Of course size can be customised, if a client places an advanced order with us.”

    “Why not put them on hormones?”

    “It takes too long to get a result, Mistress Alexandra. We are a business selling a commodity and our significant profit margins would be lower if we didn’t produce a quick turnaround.”

    “Besides they’re sissies,” commented Kane. “It’s their purpose to serve, not make them free thinking and independent women.”

    Takeda nodded in agreement.

    “There are other plastic surgery procedures. Facial features can be far more feminised if desired.”

    “Providing the client pays?” Queried Alexandra.

    “Yes, quite so, Mistress Alexandra. However body hair removal comes as standard via laser treatment. Botox injections for fuller lips is another customisation option.” And then in a very excited tone Natasha said. “At present our technicians are even experimenting with eye colour modification, but it’s still early days.”

    “What about the voice?” Kane said.

    “We conducted trials, but voice surgery is expensive and risky. As for voice training, that takes extensive time.”

    “True”, Kane replied.

    “Nevertheless we have found after the entire process is completed, our sissies tend to have a much higher pitched voice. Our specialists believe it to be a side effect of the extensive hypnotic conditioning.”

    “Hypnosis.” Alexandra commented. “Tell me more.”

    “I know my Mistress would prefer I show you instead, Mistress Alexandra. Please everyone, step this way.”

    The tour group approached another elevator, this one also had black doors. After a short amount of time the quartet emerged in a gargantuan hallway. All was the colour of polished obsidian. From the walls protruded vast buttresses, with supported an arched roof, and from the ceiling many chandeliers hung, emitting a dim red glow.

    “So much like a church.” Mused Alexandra.

    “Pretty fucking sinister church!” Uttered Kane.

    “Mistress Cynthia refers to it as the Sanctum.” Natasha commented, then turned to them and outstretched both arms. “Behold, the threshold of Sissy Land!”

    Takeda was in awe, enjoying the sheer majesty of it all.

    “Mistress Cynthia realised very early on that a sissy must first be completely broken, if she is ever to be remade. This is achieved by an extremely potent combination of brainwashing hypnosis, and deeply implanted conditioning. The effect is further heightened by pumping both adrenaline and a hallucinogenic compound of her own design directly into them.”

    “Incredible!” Takeda remarked.

    “I am so pleased it meets with your approval,” said Cynthia, her voice echoing through the hall as she approached. She shook Kane’s hand, formally bowed to Takeda which he returned, before finally hugging Alexandra.

    “Thank you for attending to my dearest friends Natasha. You may now go about your other duties.”

    “Yes Mistress,” replied Natasha, bowing and then turned on one heel and strutted away.

    “You see dearest friends. A sissy is permanently thinking about sex, and not just normal sex, but filthy nasty degrading sex. As such we must make use of highly intensive and rapidly changing sexual images. This then creates suitable stimulus in their overly horny brains. In addition we also incorporate white noise to disorientate them, and give spoken commands from time to time via headset.”

    “Subliminal messages?” Queried Alexandra.

    “That too”, giggled Cynthia. “Most of the time our subjects hardly notice it, but in a subconscious state the mind reads all of it.”

    “How many subliminal messages do you incorporate?”

    “Only the most important ones, Alexandra. “Yes Master”, “Yes Mistress”, “Obey Without Question,” etc. Anything more combined with our extreme regimen, would be too much for a sissy’s limited attention span.”

    “Do any of them fail the procedure?”

    “Sadly my dear Kane, there is only a 79.5% success rate at present.”

    “So they drop dead?” Kane speculated.

    “No. Every sissy survives but some become less malleable to further conditioning. Fortunately the sexual drive and desire to please is maintained. So it’s simple enough to make a slight adjustment and program them into efficient street whores.”

    “You’ve put them on the game?” Said Kane.

    “Quite so. Why should a woman be forced into a life of prostitution, when a willing sissy is available?”

    “This would improve things greatly in Moscow.” Commented Alexandra. "Life is hard for so many girls and men treat them very badly.”

    “Precisely why a sex addled sissy who wants to be used and abused, would change public opinion. Make those degenerate men turn to a sissy slut instead. It’s also such a kindness for those sissy girls who can’t aspire to anything better.” Cynthia was positively radiating now.

    “I presume the Bukkake diet is maintained?” Quizzed Takeda.

    “Indeed, old friend. Let me show you everything!”

    Cynthia led them down the hall and as they passed numerous anti chambers sealed off by heavy steel doors, requiring access via an electronic key card. Yet each chamber had a two way mirror.

    “The subject is strapped down to a chair, which also features a large vibrating butt plug, featuring over thirty speeds. This serves to further increase their arousal as it pushes deep into their sissy pussy. At their feet a bowl is placed to collect any pre-cum, since that too can be put into the daily Bukkake mix.”

    “And where do you collect the semen?” Asked Alexandra.

    “From my stud farm of course, but we’ll get to that later. The subject is also fitted with a large penis gag. It has a breathing tube which also serves as a delivery system at meal times.”

    “Now please observe Subject 795, her name is Amber. She’s been quite difficult recently, but is almost ready to reach Sissy Land.”

    “And what is that exactly?” Said Takeda.

    “A Virtual Reality playpen devised by my brightest tech wizards. It’s all very complicated but in laymen’s terms, it is an insane kinky fantasy. It helps keep the sissies in a heightened state of permanent arousal. First I overwhelm them with sexual imagery via a visor system, and then when they are suitably entranced, we introduce the Virtual Reality scenario, a little bit at a time.” The trio of guests nodded with approval.

    “Also it stops them questioning and gives them a focus for their extreme and highly annoying curiosity. While serving as an infallible safeguard against the irritating problem of a pouty sissy.”

    “If there’s one thing I despise it’s a pouty, difficult sissy!” Remarked Kane.

    “Indeed. So it’s no real surprise that if we don’t guard against that, a sissy may eventually become opinionated and contrary. Such behaviour would be tediously intolerable.”

    “Your process sounds like it has extensive applications Cynthia.” Stated Takeda.

    “Yes of course, valuable training programs can be fully implanted once their mind reaches Sissy Land. For example we could train an infallible maid, or a bimbo lover for a lonely dominant man. A body servant for a single woman, or a rubber pleasure doll for a bored businessman.”

    Alexandra was clapping with enthusiasm, but Cynthia continued. “The point is there are a great many clients in the world who are willing to pay, and it’s our job to provide whatever they desire. This scheme has made me very wealthy yet for my next venture I will certainly need extensive capital. Which is why I have invited you here my dear, trusted friends. I would like you to become partners in something which will make all this look like child’s play.”

    “What is your next venture?” Enquired Kane.

    “Why Sissy World of course!” Cynthia’s green eyes shown brighter and she smiled wide with her ruby lips.

    “I would certainly provide valuable support to such a project.” Takeda claimed.

    “As would I.” Chimed in Alexandra.

    Kane was also nodding. “Sounds excellent!”

    “Thank you my friends.” Cynthia bowed with gratitude and then noticed that the electronic wristband obscured beneath her glove was beeping. “Now you must excuse me for a short while. My little sissy Amber is within a mere fraction of reaching Sissy Land. Please do observe through the viewing window.” And with that Cynthia swiped a key card into the electronic reader, the door opened and within a minute closed behind her departing figure.



    Amber woke groggily, her head hurt, and she was still in the dark room securely tied to the chair. Fortunately the gag and neck strap were removed, but there was still a tube in her neck. A smooth gloved hand stroked her brown hair, and then gentle soft lips kissed her forehead.

    Amber spoke hoarsely as she gazed into Cynthia’s enchanting emerald eyes. “Please Mistress, can I go to Sissy Land now?” Tears streamed down her cheeks, leaving black trails of mascara, but Amber wasn’t sad, she was full of joy. That was the first time she called Cynthia “Mistress.”

    “Yes Amber”, Cynthia reassured in soothing tones. “Very soon now sweetie.”

    “I’m so happy now Mistress. I can’t wait to go skipping through the pink vales of Sissy Land, and ride the great pink unicorn again. I’ll have such incredible fun with my friends, as we all get curious about Madam Desira’s House of Torment. Even Barbara said we can go and have giddy fun at the fucking stalls and the milking booths. Plus there’s a bimbo makeover happening this afternoon… I’m going to dress so slutty, and I don’t want to miss any of it!”

    “Yes sweetie. You’re going to do that of all that and so much more!” Smiled Cynthia. Amber’s eyes then closed as the conditioning finally overwhelmed her. She could see the vast meadows before her, the gargantuan trees, smelt fragrant jasmine in the air. Her heels clicked along the pink stone path. In a giddy bimbo voice she said to herself, “Hello Sissy Land!”


    Take great care, curious sissies, and be careful who you talk to, for one day you might even hear a rumour about a truly mythical place, mentioned only in whispered tones. A tale that tells of the ultimate kinky amusement park for sissies, one where they might fulfil their every sexual fantasy.

    Amber Forbes followed that lure and found the hidden path to Sissy Land. It was different to what she expected, and perhaps in her own way she eventually found true happiness, but like all sissies who have been similarly enticed to chase that legend, she never ever returned.
     

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