Sissy Dani and friends in “The Breast of Everything”
“He’s obsessed with boobs,” complained Maria, a new recruit to Mistress Jennifer’s cadre of dominant feminizers of hapless men. “My husband Bob just stares at any woman with a full figure–the fuller the better.”
It was easy to see why this disturbed her. Maria, though extremely attractive, was a petite, small-boned woman who was far from buxom. I was privy to this conversation, along with Teasing Tammy, because Jennifer, Maria, and Tammy’s sister and dominatrix, Susan, intended to use us to bring the unsuspecting Bob into a trap–a trap that would deprive him of his manliness forever, it seemed.
Tammy, though only 16, had been designed by Susan and Jennifer as the ultimate cock-tease, with full 35 C breasts. Although my own alternate persona, Sissy Dani, was generally less generously endowed, for this adventure I was also padded out to Playmate-like dimensions.
We were sent out to meet Bob at one of his favorite hangouts, a bar that specialized in attracting men who “appreciated” bosomy types. I was dressed for “bear”–a skin-tight white satin cocktail dress that played up my bogus breasts with a very short skirt, five-inch white satin heels, and dramatic make-up. Tammy had also been dressed to look older: She wore a black leather outfit, also extremely tight and short, with six-inch heels and equally dramatic make-up.
Our instructions (enforced by the post-hypnotic suggestions that created our submissive personalities) were to approach Bob, get him to buy us drinks, and then get him back to Jennifer’s house for his own transformation.
Within minutes after we arrived, I spotted Bob at the bar. “Well, hello there,” I cooed as I approached him, playing up my charms as much as I could.
“Hello yourself, little lady,” Bob replied, smiling. He looked me up and down, pausing noticeably (as expected) at my bust line. “And who’s this little heartbreaker?” he asked, as Tammy sidled up to his other side.
“That’s my sister, Tammy,” I replied. “I’m Dani.”
He put his arms around our waists, in the process letting his hands graze our “boobs.” I suggested he buy us a round of drinks. He made the order, and I told him and Tammy to find a quiet table and I would bring the drinks when they were ready. Bob readily agreed, seeing a chance, I suppose, to make a little time with the enticing Tammy while alone.
A short time later, the drinks were placed on the bar. I carefully blocked Bob’s view while I doctored his martini with the colorless, odorless potion Jennifer and her friends frequently used to render their potential she-slaves helpless. The drug–a combination sedative and mind-control potion–had been developed by one of Jennifer and Susan’s dominant friends.
I wiggled my way over to the table, setting down the drinks, urging Bob to try his, “to make sure the bartender got it right, sweetheart,” I told him. He took a big gulp, pronounced it great, then suddenly a blank look came over him.
“Wow, that stuff works quickly, doesn’t it?” Tammy remarked.
“It certainly does,” I answered. “Now, quiet, I have to give him the preliminary instructions that will get him into our Mistresses’ clutches.”
I turned to Bob. “Can you hear me, Bob?”
“Yes,” he replied in a monotone.
“Good. In a few moments, you will awaken, feeling quite refreshed. When you do so, you will follow these instructions exactly. You will agree to my suggestion that I drive us back to my place. Once there I will turn you over to your ‘trainers.’ The phrase ‘Sleep, Bob,” will return you to this hypnotic state. Is this all clear?”
“Yes,” he replied again.”
“Excellent. Wake up,” I commanded.
Bob instantly came out of the spell and soon joined Tammy and me on our way to Jennifer’s. I rang the doorbell and Jennifer answered the door, with Bob’s wife, Maria, at her side. Before Bob could completely take in the consequences of what was going on, Maria said, “Sleep, Bob,” and he was once again entranced.
The mesmerized Bob was led inside to the room that had become Jennifer’s “transformation suite.” There he was made to lie upon a comfortable bed, headphones were placed on his ears, and Jennifer began a new technique for transforming a male’s psyche to the one she desired–sleep learning.
“While he sleeps there overnight,” she told Maria, “the tapes will impress upon him his new persona–‘Busty Barbie.’ Just like Sissy Dani and Teasing Tammy, she will be completely submissive to all true women–and especially to you–and she will give her own special twist: an innate desire to be as buxom as possible, the bigger the better. In addition, she will be compelled to display those ‘charms’ to their best advantage at all times.
“But inwardly,” Jennifer continued, “Bob will be completely conscious of what is happening to him. If you request, he will explain his humiliation to you for your enjoyment. He can be brought in and out of his transformed personality by the following method–the phrase ‘Touch your boobs, Busty Barbie’ will activate the submissive mode; a simple snap of your fingers will bring back Bob, who will be completely aware of everything that has happened to him as Barbie. In addition, in either mode, the phrase ‘Sleep, Bob’ or “Sleep, Barbie’ will permit new post-hypnotic instructions to be given.
“Does that satisfy your desire for revenge?”
“Completely,” Maria replied. “I can’t wait for morning!”
When morning came, Bob was awakened by a subliminal command on the tapes, fully aware of his new self as Busty Barbie. Maria and Jennifer were waiting for him.
“Barbie,” Maria told him. “We have an appointment for you at the beauty parlor. Put on the clothes we’ve laid out for you and we’ll leave shortly.”
The now totally-submissive man began to dress, with Maria’s aid, in a completely bisexual outfit: white satin panties, garter belt and stockings beneath; topped by a white satin man-tailored blouse and raw silk pleated women’s slacks; the shoes were patent-leather low-heeled pumps. Next Maria made up his face lightly: Pale pink blush and lipstick, light blue eyeshadow and the merest hint of mascara. She then teased his hair into a slightly femme style. When completed, any observer would have been hard-pressed to determine Bob/Barbie’s gender.
Thirty minutes later, they arrived at the beauty shop run by Jennifer’s friend Margaret, the dominant woman who had aided in my own transformation to Sissy Dani. There, “Barbie” was stripped to her panties and strapped into the chair Margaret uses for her “special” customers. Once sure that the half-feminized male couldn’t escape, Maria leaned over and snapped her fingers in his face.
Instantly, Bob’s own persona reasserted itself. He was indignant. “What’s going on, Maria? Why am I strapped to this chair in this BEAUTY PARLOR?” He said the last two words with evident loathing.
“What’s happening, ‘Barbie,’ darling, is that you are about to be transformed into the kind of woman you most desire–a big-breasted, submissive bimbo. The only difference is that you will be submissive only to me and other women,” Maria explained “I fully expect that when you see yourself–as long as I allow you to be Bob and not Barbie–you’ll come right in your panties. In fact, I may order you to do just that.”
Though he was absolutely livid, Bob realized that he could not fight back in this environment. He settled back and said to Margaret, “Do your worst.”
Within an hour, Bob was further transformed into Barbie. His dark hair had been lengthened by the addition of a fall that came to below his shoulders, with attractive curls framing his face. That face no longer looked male in the slightest: His eyes had been accented with long false eyelashes, and deep green shadow, topped by plucked and arched eyebrows. His cheeks were graced by a rose blush and his lips looked full and kissable in their coat of glistening red. His nails had been lengthened and painted the same red color.
Now came the treatment that would give Busty Barbie the figure worthy of her name. Margaret approached him with a wicked-looking syringe.
“What’s that?” he cringed.
“This is a special fast-acting breast enlarger, developed by the same sympathetic doctor who came up with the hypnotic drug that allowed Maria to enslave you so effectively last night,” the dominant beautician told him, smiling. “Once I’ve injected you, your breasts will begin to grow as they attract the excess fluid in your body. I’m told a single injection will give you at least a 34C bustline.” She pushed the needle into each side of his body, just below the armpit.
“And not only that,” Maria interjected. “The result of seeing yourself with a real bosom will interact with your programming to make you want even bigger boobs. In time, you’ll look–and want to look–like a brunette Dolly Parton.”
Bob could tell it was true. Even in the short time they had been speaking he could see the swelling begin in his chest. He knew it would be less than an hour before he had the huge boobs the two women had described.
As that thought sunk in, Jennifer returned, arms laden with clothes for the “new woman.” Deciding caution was in order before releasing Bob from his bonds, Maria spoke the code words, “Touch your boobs, Busty Barbie.” Seeing that the spell had worked, the women unstrapped Barbie from her chair and began her final transformation. Now that her breasts had grown to their full first-injection size, Margaret powdered them and painted the nipples with the same red lip stick she’d used on Barbie’s face.
Now came the clothes: The white satin panties, garter belt and stockings were replaced. Over them, a very sheer white blouse, permitting the red nipples to show through provocatively, along with a tight, knee-length white skirt and white patent-leather heels. A collar, much like my own as Sissy Dani, as locked around her neck, as were similar ankle bracelets.
Maria turned to face the transformed Bob. “Sleep, Barbie,” she ordered. “In a moment, you will see yourself for the first time as Busty Barbie. I want you to pose so as to show off your boobs as much as possible. When I am satisfied as to your ability to display yourself, I will bring back your male personality. As soon as Bob sees ‘Barbie,’ you are to come in your panties. Now, awake.”
Maria spun Barbie to face the mirror. Immediately, the she-male began to run through the most provocative of poses, always with the goal of letting her breasts lead the way. After a short while, Maria snapped her fingers.
Bob was aghast as he at last saw the bizarre creature they had made of him. At the same time, he could not help being turned on by the image in the mirror–in many ways, this was the woman of his dreams: busty and unashamed of it. He couldn’t help it: his cock grew large and thick, heavy with the sexual thoughts within him. He struggled against it but could not stop. As Maria had ordered, the image of Busty Barbie–his own transformed image–made him come in his satin panties.
—
anonymous author
What an interesting story, it’s almost psychedelic, and so sexy too.
Comment by Hottbreth — October 11, 2007 @ 7:47 pm
any more stories this was good
Comment by glenn — April 9, 2008 @ 6:56 am
any more ?
Comment by glenn — June 3, 2008 @ 9:00 pm