DANI-CREATED IN HER IMAGE I was not aware that my girlfriend had begun studying hypnosis, nor that she harbored ambitions of petticoating me. But I soon discovered that the combination of the two was dangerous to my masculinity. One afternoon I was sitting in my living room, listening to the stereo through a pair of headphones. It was a warm, sultry day, and after a while I drifted off to sleep. (Much of what follows my girlfriend--now my mistress-- explained to me later. Seeing that I had dozed off, Jennifer saw her chance. She replaced my music tape with one she had prepared in advance. Through my drifting sleep, my subconscious mind heard Jennifer's voice, presenting me with a set of hypnotic suggestions. "I want you to sleep, sleep, sleep," whispered the tape. "When I count to 100, you will be in a deep, restful sleep, in which you can hear only my voice." When she reached 100, Jennifer switched to the instructions, designed to impose a submissive feminine personality upon me. "You love women's clothes. You love dressing and looking like a woman. The feel of satin, silk, and nylon arouses you. You are particularly fond of clothes that make you look both sexy and little girlish. Very high heels are a special turn-on. "You are a sexual submissive. You are compelled to obey the commands and orders of women. You are particularly responsive to those who will dress you in beautiful clothes and keep you in bondage. You want to be a male, lesbian slave. But you will never forget that you are a man, and the great humiliation of your feminine, submissive state. "When I reach 1, you will awaken. You will not remember being hypnotized, and will show no effects from these instructions. However, whenever you hear the words 'pretty sissy Dani,' you will adopt the personality imposed by these instructions. At the snapping of my fingers, you will return to your 'normal' personality, with full memory of the humiliations you have experienced. 100, 99, 98, 97 ...." According to Mistress Jennifer, I awoke a few minutes later. She told me she had an appointment at her hairdresser's and asked me to drive her there. I agreed (why not?), and we were there within 15 minutes. As we entered the shop, she leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Pretty sissy Dani." I could feel the incredible shift in my personality take hold. I looked at my mistress and asked, "Mistress Jennifer, why am I dressed in these horrid male clothes?" She smiled mischievously and answered, "Don't worry, my pretty slave. The appointment here is for you. And look, here comes Mistress Margaret to perform your transformation." A tall, well-built brunette approached. "Is this our little male lesbian?" she inquired, smirking. I blushed under her frank gaze. "Well, we'll soon have you looking the part, Danielle." She led me to her working area and settled me into the chair. "Dani, most of our customers find it much more relaxing to strip out of their clothes before we begin work," she told me. "Wouldn't you like to do the same?" With my new female personality, I was only too happy to get out of the pants and shirt I was wearing. Soon, I was naked, and Margaret wrapped a pink, see-through smock around my slender, nearly hairless body. At that point, Mistress Jennifer approached once again. "Comfy, Dani?" she asked. Then she snapped her fingers. Instantly, my male persona reasserted itself--but this time I remembered everything I had said and done, and all that had gone on around me. "Why are you doing this, Jennifer?" I cried. She slapped my face. "Mistress Jennifer is my name--and don't forget it again!" she snapped. "Now be quiet and let Mistress Margaret transform you." A short while later, my head was under the faucet of the sink, as Mistress Margaret scrubbed my mousy brown hair with a sweet smelling shampoo. Next she rinsed a conditioner through it...or so she said. As I sat in the chair waiting for the conditioner to work, I must have dozed off again. I was awakened by an odd tickling sensation at my naked feet. I looked down and another woman was stroking bright red nail polish onto my toenails. Shaken, I realized that Mistress Jennifer was truly intent on carrying out her program of transformation. I glanced to the table where my clothes had been left--as I suspected, they were gone. "Well, sissy Dani, I see you know I meant what I said," Jennifer laughed, stepping from behind a partition. In her hands, she held a pair of lacy, pink satin tap panties. She reached under my smock and slipped them on me. Strangely, even without feminine persona at work, the feel of the satin around my loins seemed to excite me, as my cock began to grow and harden. The mistresses laughed and sneered at my combined excitement and discomfort. "That's just the beginning, Danielle," Margaret smiled "Look at yourself!" And she whirled the chair around, so that I could see myself in the mirror. There was only one major change, but it added to my distress. My hair was wrapped tightly in rollers, and the pink of the smock and panties seemed to feminize my slender, hairless form. Margaret now squeezed a foul-smelling liquid onto my rolled-hair--I knew what it was. I was getting a permanent! "And that's not all," Jennifer laughed. "Danielle's hair will not only be curly--it will be a saucy shade of golden blonde!" A short time later, after sitting under a dryer, I was having my fingernails filed and polished the same bright red as my toenails, while Margaret combed out my hair, producing a flattering golden blonde pageboy, reaching to just above my shoulders. While Jennifer went out to pick my clothing, Margaret performed her magic on my face--tweezing my brows into a thin feminine arch accenting my eyes with blue-green shadow, eyeliner, and mascara. A deep blush stroked on my cheeks gave me an appropriate look of constant embarrassment, while a red lipstick, matching my nails, made my lips look wet, kissable, and desirable. In the end, I was definitely Danielle--absolutely stunning. By that time, Jennifer had returned. I was released from the chair, and dressed in a pink padded bra, pink garterbelt, sheer white stockings, and a pink minislip. Over it all came a lacy white minidress, the skirt stopping a full six inches above my knees. On my feet, Jennifer placed white patent leather shoes, with a strap across the instep and five-inch heels. They looked like incredibly sexy Mary Janes. Margaret and Jennifer supervised as I practiced walking in them--a full hour, until I had gained a very provocative wiggle. The finishing touches were the jewelry--big gold clip-on earrings, a heavy gold chain bracelet, and a matching chain around my left ankle. But the real finish came last: a heavy gold collar which Jennifer locked around my neck, hooking the key on her charm bracelet. The transformation was complete. Mistress Jennifer paid off her friend Margaret, and we sashayed out to the car. As we drove off, my new mistress whispered in my ear, "Pretty sissy Dani." CHAPTER 2 Some six months after Mistress Jennifer first imposed the "sissy Dani" persona on me through post-hypnotic suggestion, our lives had settled into a routine. Most of the week was quite normal--only Jennifer's insistence that I wear a corset and baby-dolls to bed indicated the hold she had over me. Naturally, I complied, since she could always threaten to permanently impose "sissy Dani" on my mind. Weekends, however, were generally spent in my transformed bondage. Perhaps a description of one such period will demonstrate the nature of our relationship. I arrived home from work Friday night and was met by Mistress Jennifer at the door, dressed in her most dominant clothes--black leather bustier, knee-length black leather hobble skirt, black stockings, and six-inch heels. She kissed me tenderly and whispered "Pretty sissy Dani." Once again, as it had countless times over the past half-year, my personality shifted. I was no longer Daniel, the confident journalist, but now Dani, the sweetly submissive male lesbian. As I had been taught, I dropped my gaze and held out my arms, wrists touching. "Transform me, Mistress," I pleaded. "Bind me into your service as sissy Dani." Jennifer smiled the wicked smile I had grown to fear yet love. "At once, sissy Dani. I have a very special weekend planned for us." Producing a collar and leash, she bound me to her and led me to sissy Dani's transformation room. Seating me before the vanity, she told me to begin my change. First came the makeup--eyeshadow, mascara, bright red lipstick and, of course, the blush that gave me the look of constant embarrassment that Mistress Jennifer so enjoyed. She even powdered my breasts, then shadowed my "cleavage" and rouged my nipples, making my otherwise flat chest look quite girlish. She next combed out my hair into the flattering blonde pageboy her friend Mistress Margaret had created when Dani was first "revealed." Next came the clothes. Jennifer had already laid out the outfit I was to wear for the evening. It consisted of a low-cut red satin blouse (though I had little in the way of natural cleavage, Mistress Jennifer still preferred me to dress in this sexy manner at times), a tight black leather miniskirt (with the hem fully six inches above my knees), a knee- length black leather cape, with red satin lining, and red patent-leather pumps, with towering 6-1/2-inch heels. All this was worn over black lingerie, including a lightly-padded bra, satin panties, garter belt and sheer black stockings. Sissy Dani (I had, in my lucid moments as Daniel, come to think of her as a separate person) revelled in these sexy, feminine clothes, creating a sexual rush that thickened and hardened my cock. Mistress Jennifer smiled and brushed her hand across the obvious bulge under my skirt. "We'll get to that later, sissy Dani," she whispered. "Now calm down." Now Jennifer placed the gold bracelets with the secret locks on my wrists, the matching gold ankle bracelets on my legs and, finally, the gold collar with the visible lock around my neck. Then she took my wrists in her hands and brought them together behind my back. SNAP! The bracelets became handcuffs, effectively binding my hands behind me, hidden beneath the cape. Next, she clipped the leash again to my collar and led me out to the street. Submissively (sissy Dani could act no other way), I followed. As we reached the sidewalk, she snapped her fingers before my face. That was the signal--sissy Dani disappeared and Daniel came back to life. I stumbled in the towering heels as I came to my senses. As usual, I knew everything Mistress Jennifer had done to me and I was thoroughly humiliated to be bound and cross-dressed in public--although certainly no passer-by would guess that the blonde vision in red-and- black was not female. "Where are we going now?" I asked. She smiled the secret smile I had come to fear--it always meant humiliation for me. "One of my dearest dominant friends is having a little party. She asked me to bring sissy Dani to demonstrate my 'training methods,'" Mistress Jennifer replied. "Her name is Mistress Susan--and you will obey her, and any other dominant woman at the party, as you would me. You know the consequences. "I certainly did. The consequences were to live the rest of my life as sissy Dani. I was constantly afraid she would carry through on that threat--and secretly desiring it as well. The more time I spent as sissy Dani, or in "her` clothes, the more I grew to enjoy it. I dared not tell Mistress Jennifer...she would only try to find a new way to humiliate me. Fortunately the party house was only a few blocks away, so there was little chance for me to be seen by any neighbors. When we reached the door, it was opened by Mistress Susan. At that moment, Jennifer whipped off my cape, exposing my bondage to her sister dominant and all the other party-goers. She announced to the group, "Hello, everyone, this is PRETTY SISSY DANI!" With those words, Dani reasserted herself. I blushed (prettily, I'm sure) at my exposure. As I had often been instructed, I dropped to my knees and placed my lips on the toes of Mistress Susan's white patent leather boots. "Thank you for permitting me to serve you and all the other women here, Mistress Susan," I said. The lovely blonde dominant, dressed all in white leather, took my hand and raised me back to my feet. "You're quite welcome, sissy Dani. Come meet my other guests." The room was filled with dominant women, each attended by one or more submissives. All of the submissives were cross-dressed men, in varying states of attire. Several were completely outfitted as French maids, with short, petticoated, black-satin mini-dresses, black silk hose and high, black-patent leather shoes. Others were done-up as little girls--in pink or white satin party dresses, bare legs, frilly white socks and Mary-Janes. Still others wore nothing but corsets or waist- cinchers with nylons and heels. These were usually also in mild bondage of one sort or another. The one exception was a boy of about 16, who was completely naked and bound to a chair in the middle of the room. I assumed he had been drugged in some way, because he was relaxed and apparently sleeping. Susan led Jennifer and me over to the bound young man. "Dani, this is my little brother Tommy. He is about to become your sister in spirit--thanks to your lovely Mistress. I was shocked (even as Sissy Dani) to realize that Mistress Jennifer was aiding her friend in enslaving one so young--especially the dominant's brother. The various dominants in the room gathered around as Susan and Jennifer began to dress the drowsing boy in feminine clothes. Apparently the plan was to establish the soon-to-be "Tammy" as a sort of teen-age tease. He was dressed in frilly pink panties, a generously padded bra (making him at least a 35C), matching garter belt, sheer hose, a tight pink sweater, pink mini-skirt (fully as short as my own), pink ankle sox with lace at the cuffs, and pink patent-leather pumps with four-inch heels. Once he was dressed, the assembled dominants made up his face: pale blue eyeshadow, long false lashes, a becoming blush and deep red lipstick. They topped it off with a curly, shoulder-length auburn wig. Now, at Mistress Jennifer's direction, one of the "maids" brought over a full-length mirror and an amplifier set up, with microphone and headphones. The headphones were placed over "Tammy's" ears, the microphone given to Jennifer, while the newly cross-dressed boy was brought to his feet before the mirror. "Open your eyes, Tommy," Jennifer spoke into the mike. "This is the new you: You ur name is Tammy. You have two goals in life--to serve your Mistress Susan, and to use your feminine wiles to lure other teenage boys like yourself into our clutches, to be feminized and dominated for the enjoyment of these women. "Naturally, you you urself are much turned-on by this look. You want to look just as pretty and sexy as you can. You glory in the attention--at the same time realizing the humiliation of your position as a toy and sex-lure for your Mistress's purposes."Remember, that any time your Mistress wishes to give you instructions, she must only direct you to gaze upon yourself in a mirror, with the words, 'Pose for me, Teasing Tammy.' "Now, close your eyes and sleep until I awaken you with the words, 'Wake up, Teasing Tammy.'"The newly renamed boy-girl sat quietly as the even the assembled dominants gasped at the boldness of Jennifer and Susan's scheme. They planned not only to enslave the feminized Tommy, but to use him to recruit other unsuspecting lads to their arms. Sissy Dani and Teasing Tammy would soon have many "little sisters,` it seemed. CHAPTER THREE Mistress Jennifer and Mistress Susan's plans to create an entire "harem" of transformed men and boys continued apace. The lure of Teasing Tammy (the transformation name of Susan's teen-aged brother Tommy) proved quite effective. Each of the young men (the youngest just 14, the oldest 22) the little tease brought back to the home we all now shared was turned into a different kind of feminized sex-toy, all designed to please the Mistresses and their dominant friends. The little 14-year-old--apparently too sexually precocious for his own good--was introduced to Tammy by his mother, who wanted to prevent him from becoming a threat to the girls in his school and neighborhood. Tammy was a revelation to Martin--his experience with girls was limited to the still-flat-chested, teddy-bear shaped girls in his school. She was dressed in her usual "tease" outfit: frilly pink panties, a generously padded bra (making her at least a 35C), matching garter belt, sheer hose, a tight pink sweater, pink mini-skirt (falling about six inches aboves her knees), pink ankle sox with lace at the cuffs, and pink patent-leather pumps with four-inch heels. Well, when Martin saw Teasing Tammy in her frilly but skimpy pink outfit, her ample charms begging him to come home with her, he was lost. Once at the transformation house, in Tammy's bedroom, the little tease managed to trick Martin into putting on some lingerie--a lacy beige bra and matching panties--with the promise of sucking his cock if he did so. Once the unsuspecting lad was so dressed, Mistress Susan appeared in the door of Tammy's room. Feigning shock at the scene before her (a scene she had actually instructed Tammy to play out), Susan ordered Tammy out of the room. Dressed in a black leather mini-skirted business suit and lavender satin blouse, with her long legs perched on five-inch black patent leather heels, the dominant was as attractive to Martin's eyes as her "sister" had been--possibly more so. Susan sat beside him--still dressed in his lingerie and nothing else--and talked to Martin about how he was dressed and how he felt in the girl's underclothes. "I know you're embarrassed, Martin,` she explained. "But you really do look cute in that outfit. I can see why Tammy wanted you to wear it: you're so soft and pink, you almost look like agirl.` The lad blushed--all over--at Susan's words. Now the dominant got stern. "Don't blush! You obviously enjoy wearing those clothes--and you obviously wanted Tammy to suck your cock! Maybe we should let you see what it's like to be a girl--or maybe a very girlish boy!` Now Martin was scared. What did this very beautiful, but frightening, young woman have in mind? Susan smiled inwardly--very soon Martin would be the submissive girlish sissy his mother wanted. She produced a pill and some water, giving both to Martin. "Take this, Martin," she advised. "It will calm you." It certainly would. The drug--a combination sedative and mind- control potion--had been developed by one of Jennifer and Susan's dominant friends. Only moments after he downed the pill, Martin was quiet, breathing deeply and staring straight ahead with unseeing eyes. At that moment, Mistress Jennifer and Martin's mother, Mistress Carla, entered. "He's all yours, Carla," Susan said. Carla ordered the boy to stand and put on the clothes she laid out for him. First came a satin camisole over the bra and panties, then white hose attached to a matching garter belt. Next was a white satin blouse with a high collar and bouffant sleeves. On Martin's legs went a pair of tight black velvet shorts, followed by a matching vest that laced tightly around him. The finishing touches were black patent leather Mary Jane shoes with two-inch heels and a black satin bow at his neck. Now the women went to work on his face--light touches of blush, blue eyeshadow, and pale pink lipstick, topped off with a blonde page-boy wig with a black satin bow in the back. Commanding the lad to stand before the full-length mirror, Carla brought him out of his trance, but still under her control. "Look at yourself! You are no longer the roughneck boy you once were, but a sweet submissive sissy, who would not think of disobeying. Your name is now Little Miss Mandy. Of course, you will need to undergo a great deal of training for your new role..." "That's really not necessary," Jennifer interrupted. "You can give him commands that he'll be unable to disobey right now." "I know that," Carla replied. "But then I'd miss all the fun of training him and watching his embarrassment and humiliation as he finds himself being drawn into my net of feminized obediance." And the three dominant women laughed at the truth of the statement. Of course, while all this had been going on, Mistress Jennifer had not been idle in my continuing enslavement and feminization as Sissy Dani. The next step in my "training" came during dinner at an elegant restaurant. I had arrived, as ordered, as Daniel. Shown to the table at which Jennifer sat, I blanched when I saw her. She was dressed all in leather, a sure sign that I was in for a humiliating time. As I sat beside her, she let her hand brush over my chest. "You're not wearing a bra, are you?" she demanded. "Of course not. I'm Daniel, not Sissy Dani," I whispered. "You told me to come as my normal self." "That doesn't mean you shouldn't always be reminded of your true position," she answered. She reached into her bag and pulled out a package, smiling the sinister smile I recognized so well. The package was from the local boutique that specialized in TV fashions. "Go to the men's room and put on the things you'll find in this package,` she ordered. I peeked inside. The package contained a black bra and panties, garter belt and sheer stockings. "I can't do that!` I protested. "You can and you will,` she replied. "Unless you'd rather spend the evening as Sissy Dani, down on the floor, eating my pussy instead of dinner?"I shuddered--I knew she could do it if she wished. Sheepi shly Ipicked up the package and headed for the men's room. "AndDaniel,` she called after me, "no socks over the stockings. "Moments later, certain the entire restaurant knew what I was wearing beneath my business suit (a real possibility, since myshirt was light enough for the black bra to show through, and my pants short enough for the sheer hose to show at my ankles), I returned to our table. As I sat again, Mistress Jennifer reached for my crotch, deftly pulled open my fly and pulled out a tuft of the black satin panties. She let her leather-covered hand brush over my straining cock. Yes, I WAS turned on, dammit! We ordered dinner, with Jennifer, as usual, ordering for me. Though she had a full meal, I had to be content with a salad. "Have to watch your girlish figure," she laughed. After dinner, as we relaxed, Jennifer pulled her makeup out of her purse and began to freshen up. She turned to me as she finished, asking, "Wouldn't you like to freshen your makeup, too, Pretty Sissy Dani?" That was it--the code words that surrendered my personality to that of Sissy Dani, Mistress Jennifer's lesbian slave. Though I could not refuse her commands, I remained aware of what she was doing to me. "Dani, I think it's silly of you to go about without makeup on, don't you?" she asked. "Yes, Mistress," Dani replied. "Very well, then. I want you to put on a light coat of pink lipstick, pale blue eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, and just a hint of blush--though you hardly need it. You blush so naturally when you're embarrassed. "Unable to refuse, I did as she asked. When I had finished, she produced a pair of dangling earrings with little bells, and my familiar slave ankle bracelets. "Put these on,` she commanded. I obeyed again. "Very good. Now Dani,` she continued, "at all times, whether dressed as Dani or Daniel you will wear the makeup, earrings and ankle bracelets you are now wearing. This is an irrevocable post- hypnotic command. Each morning when you dress as Daniel or Dani these things will be a part of your routine. As Dani, of course, you WANT to be pretty. As Daniel, they will add to the embarrassment you feel from your feminization. The soft ringing of the bells in your ears will remind you constantly that MY voice rings in your ears, always ready to command you to do as I wish." She snapped her fingers. Instantly, I regained control of myself as Daniel. I looked into the mirror next to our table. The sight of my now permanently feminized face brought on moist eyes. "Why?" I asked Jennifer. "You didn't think I'd be happy with you as just a part-time slave, did you?` she responded. "Now I can hold power over you constantly. You're mine 24 hours a day from now on, even without Sissy Dani. Soon I may impose that simpering personality on you constantly, with no way for you to be released." CHAPTER 4 "This should be the most exciting night of your life,` Mistress Jennifer told me. "We'll be celebrating Sissy Dani's first 'birthday.'" It was true. A full year had gone by since Jennifer had first used her secret hypnotic designs to implant within my mind the personality of Sissy Dani, a simpering, submissive male lesbian who craved being both beautiful and bound. In that year, she had also aided many of her dominant female friends to successfully transform the men in their lives into submissive feminized slaves as well. Many of them would be at the party tonight. "Let's get you into your birthday dress," Jennifer said, holding out the special creation. "Can't that wait?" I asked petulantly. I had noted over the last several months that even as Daniel I was becoming increasingly girlish--my voice was higher, softer my gestures and walk more feminine. This "persona seepage," as I had come to think of it, had seemingly begun the evening Jennifer imposed a second set of posthypnotic commands upon me. I was now compelled to wear feminine undergarments and a light coating of makeup at all times, whether dressed and acting as Daniel or Dani. I was now reluctant to wear female clothing when the Daniel persona was in charge-- for fear the "seepage" would increase. Jennifer, of course, had the solution to my reluctance. "Don't you want to be PRETTY, SISSY DANI?" Those were the code words, the special message that would activate in full the feminine psyche hidden within my own. As usual, the switch was instantaneous. Unable to resist (though within, I knew how humiliating the entire scenario was), I dropped my gaze and held out my arms, wrists touching. "Transform me, Mistress," I pleaded. "Bind me into your service as sissy Dani." Jennifer ordered me to remove my male outer clothes and the black lace undies I was also wearing. She strapped me into a plain white strapless padded bra and then added white panties. No garter belt this time--the sheer white stockings she gave me to put on my hairless legs were designed to stay up by themselves. When she handed me the dress Sissy Dani was to wear to the party I understood why my lingerie was so simple. The dress was elegant, sexy, and tight as tight could be. Its shirred white fabric clung to everyone of Sissy Dani's curves. It was low-cut and strapless, the bodice fitting like a bustier. The hem was among the shortest Sissy Dani had ever worn--nearly eight inches above the knee. A built-in starched petticoat made the skirt stand out, seemingly revealing even more of the legs than usual. Now came the shoes--the barest of bare white sandals with seven-inch heels. Fortunately, in preparation for the party, Jennifer had made me (as both Daniel and Dani) practice walking in even higher eight-inch heels for the past month. In comparison, these were like flats. I looked down at my feet, and the Sissy Dani persona was enchanted by the sight of my red- painted toenails winking through the thin straps of the sandals. It was an extremely sexy sight. Fully dressed for the party (or so I thought at the time), I was seated at my vanity for a make-up job. In keeping with the sexy yet virginal white of my outfit, Mistress Jennifer emphasized the little-girl look of my face without neglecting the need to make me the sexual center of attention she wanted me to be that evening. The final effect--with ultra-long lashes, carefully shaded pale colors in the eyeshadow, a deep coral lipstick, and my usual embarrassed blush--left the impression of a Monroe-like sexpot trying to masquerade as a pre-teenager. Jennifer was certain I would be a hit. My usual bondage jewelry was also added--locked collar, bracelets, ankle bracelets. She faced me toward the mirror and snapped her fingers. Instantly, my male persona reasserted itself. I gazed at my reflection--and the hypnotic effect of Jennifer's commands combined with the "persona seepage" left me with a raging hard-on. Jennifer recognized the look of longing on my face. "Concentrate on other things, Danielle," she cooed. "For example, I have a big birthday surprise waiting for you at the party this evening." She grinned evilly--and I shuddered, half in fear, half in anticipation. "Time to go," she told me, producing my "outerwear," such as it was. First came a pair of opera-length white satin gloves, exceedingly tight and fetishistic. So tight, in fact, that I could scarcely move my elbows or fingers once they were on. She forced my arms behind my back and demonstrated the gloves' other secret: The two halves of a nylon zipper ran up the inner side of each glove. Forcing my arms close together, she closed the zipper, imprisoning my arms as if they were bound in a single glove. Over this elegant bondage she placed a white satin cape that fell to my waist, mostly hiding my imprisoned arms--but leaving just enough showing to make it interesting should anyone notice my awkward condition. "Now you just stand here like that and get used to it," Jennifer advised, "while I get into my own party outfit." Moments later, she reappeared. Involuntarily I gasped--she was beautiful. Her dress was a classic evening gown--halter-collared, barebacked, clinging in all the right places, with a slit up the side to reveal her gorgeous legs--but made entirely of red kid leather. Her stockings were also red, and her shoes were of matching leather in a six- inch heeled pump. Jennifer clipped a gold chain leash to my collar and tugged lightly. "Let's go, Dani--your public awaits." The party was held at Mistress Susan's home. Mistress Susan was the sister of Teasing Tammy (nee Tommy), and was the instigator of his transformation into that alluring teenager whose purpose was to gain new "recruits" to the growing legion of feminized submissives. Among the guests at this birthday party for my own imposed female persona were Tammy, Little Miss Mandy and "her" mother Carla, and Busty Barbie and "her" wife- mistress, Maria. Each of the three had, I was told, prepared an entertainment for the celebration. When everyone had arrived, the festivities began. First into the spotlight was Tammy. Susan had outfitted her little "sister" in a dressy version of her usual teen-age sexpot attire. The buxom little redhead wore a pink sequined mini-dress with a diagonal-cut hem: It started at knee- length on her left side and rose to stocking-tops (revealing a hint of garter) on the left. Along the outside of the left leg her specially made pink stockings had an inscription, running from the thigh to the ankle: "Cockteaser." She also wore six-inch pink pumps. Like me, Tammy was only a part-time submissive. Susan brought her out for special occasions like these or for missions to lure in prospective feminization victims. Also like me, Tammy's other self, Tommy, was acutely aware of everything he was forced to undergo when in the thrall of the Teasing Tammy persona--so I understood the humiliation he would feel after the party when Susan released him from her control. Tammy's act consisted of her playing up sexually to one of the un- feminized male submissives at the party, while singing--in a Betty Boop-ish voice--"I Want to Be Loved By You." Her instructions were to turn the man on as much as possible--both for her own humiliation as his, since he would be forbidden to relieve his frustration by his own mistress. The act was a rousing success. The party-goers loved it--and the poor submissive ended up with a raging erection but tied to a chair as he was, he could only long for release--in more ways than one. Completing her number, Tammy curtsied and retreated to Susan's side, where she was immediately returned to her own bondage--silver handcuffs behind the back and leg restraints--and then Susan played a little trick of her own: Snapping her fingers, she returned Tammy to Tommy. As the realization of what he had just done hit him, Tommy turned bright red and would have run from the room had Susan not restrained him. Next on the makeshift stage was Little Miss Mandy. Unlike most of the other feminized slaves in our circle, Mandy had not been transformed through hypnosis but through rigorous training by his mother Carla instead. She had turned down the mesmerizing route, thinking it would be more fun (and more embarrassing to the former Martin) if the 14-year-old boy were constantly aware of his increasing feminized appearance and personality. Normally, Carla kept Mandy dressed in sissy-boy attire (velvet or satin shorts, satin skirts, big bows, etc.) rather than full female regalia, but tonight she had gone all out. Mandy gave the appearance of an oversized eight-year-old girl in a pale blue party dress with lace and ruffles all over it, little puffed sleeves, opaque white stockings, and white patent- leather Mary Janes with three-inch heels. The effect was emphasized by a little organdy apron tied over his skirt, with a big bow showing at the rear. Still there remained a touch of the androgynous to his appearance, since Carla had chosen to forego a wig for the cross-dressed boy, simply curling his short black hair tightly and affixing a large pale blue ribbon to the left side. His face was lightly touched with cosmetics, just enough to soften his features. Many of the other "little-girl" submissives at the party were clearly jealous of his femininity. For her performance, Mandy sang the classic "I'm a Little Teapot," replete with the appropriate gestures. When completed, she curtsied, then (as ordered) stuck her thumb in her mouth in little-girl fashion. The audience ate it up. Last up was Busty Barbie. Once known as Bob, he was the only adult in our group of fem-slaves who lived full-time as a woman. How could he do otherwise? His wife, Maria, perturbed by his obsession with big-breasted women, had used a combination of hypnosis, special drugs and breast implants to turn him into a heart-stopping version of what he loved most. Barbie was now a lust-inducing buxom brunette, her boobs expanded to a 38D. The hypnotic commands that created the Barbie personality had several interesting twists: the more often she saw herself with big breasts, the bigger she wanted her boobs to get (although Maria had recently "turned off" that command--she didn't want Barbie to get gross) Bob, when released from the Barbie persona, was compelled to gaze upon the vision of Barbie he had become--and come in his panties finally, Bob had constant awareness of all that happened to Barbie--and Maria frequently ordered him to report on his reactions to it. He had told me it was a greatly humiliating experience. And that was to be his "act" this evening. Barbie wiggled and jiggled her way into the performance area. She wore a see-through red black blouse, through which her large tits, carefully powdered and rouged, showed provocatively. Her skirt was a tight black leather mini, considerably hampering her ability to walk freely, especially in the six-inch heeled pumps she also wore. Her dark hair hung below her shoulders in a Farah-like wave, framing a skillfully made-up face with bee-stung red lips. "I have been--requested," she began, "to describe my activities and my feelings as I prepared for this evening's gathering. "As usual when appearing in public, I began with a long bubble-bath. As I stripped naked, I found my hands again straying to my breasts, tweaking the nipples, heaving the heavy globes together. My mind struggled to prevent my body from teasing myself so, but without effect. My Mistress' hypnotic commands are too strong. After successfully causing my cock to harden, I stepped into the bath. "An hour later," she continued, "powdered and dried from the bath, I began dressing for the party. I started with my black satin panties, garter belt and black sheer stockings. The I stepped--struggled, really--into the exquisite tightness of my leather skirt. My body thrilled at the feel of it across my hips and thighs my mind tried to push those feelings away, again without success. Finally I slipped on my six-inch pumps. "Then I sat at my vanity to begin my makeup. I accented my eyes with long false eyelashes, and deep green shadow, and carefully touched up my plucked and arched eyebrows. next came a rose blush, followed by a coat of glistening red lipstick. I freshened my nail polish with the same red color. "Now, came the part my body loved and my mind most detested. I could feel my arms and hands shake as my conscious struggled with my unconscious. But, as always, the unconscious won--my hands picked up the powder and lipstick again, accenting the white of giant boobs and the red of the nipples. Looking at my luscious tits in the mirror, I felt my cock begin to stir again. "Now came the finishing touch--the blouse that would both hide and reveal my breasts to the world. Once it was in place, Mistress Maria entered my room and snapped her fingers. Barbie was gone--Bob in her place within my mind. I stared at the reflection in the mirror and--as it had every day for the past several months--my cock shot its load into my panties at the sight of my transformed self." The entertainment complete, Mistress Jennifer announced it was time for my surprise. Suddenly, from behind, I felt a pair of hands thrust a ball- gag into my mouth, tying it tightly. Next I felt the zipper on my dress being pulled down. Shortly, the dress fell in a bundle to my feet. Now, Mistress Jennifer reached behind me and undid the hooks on my bra. It, too, fell to the floor. I stood there, half-naked in my sheer white hose and high white sandals, unable to move because of the way my arms were bound by the satin gloves, unable to protest because of the way my mouth was gagged. Jennifer smiled-- the smile I knew meant additional humiliation for me. "You look so Pretty, Sissy Dani." Instantly. I no longer cared how I looked. I actually longed for the humiliation I was receiving. Such was the effect of the Sissy Dani persona upon me. Now, Jennifer produced a syringe from her bag. "This, Sissy Dani, is the same drug which produced such wonderful results in Busty Barbie." She stuck the needle under each of my breasts, as my eyes gaped. "Oh no, Dani," she responded to my unasked question, "we're not going to make you as buxom as Barbie. Just enough to give yocute little boobs for the rest of your life. "After all," Jennifer continued, "you're going to need them. From this point forward, the sound of snapping fingers will no longer return Daniel to control of your mind.' She demonstrated. Indeed, the switch in personas I expected did not occur. But did that mean-- "Yes, Dani, this is the end of your double life," she went on, as I felt and watched my tits begin to grow. "From now on, you're Pretty Sissy Dani forever!" THE END