Sissy Saline Inflation

The team of specialists have decided that it is time.

The shiver of steel sliding under you skin, the sting of the drip flowing into you, a slow but steady rise, the body blooms under my control. The maze of tubes, bags, and drips, the clinical precision I take when administering a true transformation, the antiseptic smell, it overwhelms your senses and you know that in this moment, bound to this chair, there is nothing you can do but accept the changes you have been deemed fit to undergo.

You stay put, and I’ll take care of everything. Clothes help structure, cinch, and shape you into a pleasing form. Paint, powder and a wig change the contours of your face. High shoes help you sit elegantly. The bondage is necessary to stop you squirming, as movement hinders progress as it were.

The salt water stings a little as I massage it to form the ideal shape, a reminder that something remarkable is happening. You can’t escape it. Look down. Your breasts are filling out that bra you always kept in your drawer. There is a true sissy in the mirror.

I am trained to administer saline inflation to the chest and scrotum. Marks are minimal, and there is a tiny amount of fluid seepage after the procedure, which is generally caught by the small round bandage that covers the incision mark. All equipment is single use and sterile. After the procedure, reabsorption takes a couple of hours after the tourniquet is removed depending on your hydration level, and is body safe.

Sessions involving saline infusion must be booked at least 1 week in advance, with a small deposit for materials, and for returning patients only. Minimum length for a saline session is 2 hours. Ensure that you are well-rested, hydrated, and nourished before your saline inflation transformation.

This scene was realized with my sadistic sister, Ms Violet Mays.

Catheter Arts: put it in to let it out

Those who follow my musings know that I have a fetish for all things urethral. Piss games like target practice, forced consumption, toilet slavery, golden enema, bladder control, and on to more precise practices like sounding, figging, and urethral stretching.

Catheter play is a twisted merry game, and it can be done as a standalone practice or as part of a longer scene. If you’ve been sounded you’ll know that the feeling of a slender object snaking up your urethra is incredible, intensely pleasurable, and stimulating for the prostate. Once it’s secured in you, imagine how much it would heighten pleasure for other play.

It’s quite an ordeal of medical paraphernalia, laying the sterile Sheet of Dignity over your freshly swabbed and cleansed junk, lubricating the equipment, feeding it through into the bladder and inflating the bubble to keep it in, and securing the leg bag. The bag fills – you don’t get to decide when you are going to urinate because this little tube does it all for you.

From there, I might carry on flaying you, going deeper into medical play. Needles, staples, sutures… I can go into more detail when we meet, I don’t want to frighten the sissies away from reading the rest of this.

I put you in extended bondage. You are immobile, unable to touch yourself. Perhaps you are kept in a cage overnight as I sleep soundly in the king bed upstairs.

Or maybe we go out in public, and you squirm with hot embarrassment in lacy knickers and catheter tubing under your everyday clothes. Imagine dinner across form me as I gently torment you, urging you to drink more water.

And then, a test of your devotion in an act of submissive debasement. The bag is full, but how could we waste such a precious collection? It’s got to go back in, one hole or another. I might let you flip a coin to seal your fate.

Want to try it? Break the golden seal. Come get cath’d.



Doctor! Doctor! Medical Fetish

I am your doctor, white coat, snap on the latex gloves, kind eyes and a sweet smile. this won’t hurt but it may be embarrassing. Just kneel up here and pull your trousers down behind the sheet. Try to relax, patient, you may feel a little pressure on your spot there. It says here on your report that you’ve just had a rather large enema, with lube and cold water. Very brave. Well I can assure you that none of this will be such an ordeal as that.

This is a small tube, and it’s going to inflate just a bit so you’ll feet a bit more pressure inside. What I’m looking for is any sign of malfunction, and so train your body to respond to certain stimuli. It begins with holding cold objects of increasing size inside the anal canal to minimize swelling and pain. Please, patient, keep your voice down while we go through this procedure, as there are other patients being seen in the surrounding rooms. Now if you continue to moan like that I will have to take this further to isolate the disruption. Very well. This mouth harness has a firm, hollow silicone sphere that fits between your teeth. I will put a pan on the floor so that your drool doesn’t make a mess. There there now, this won’t take long.

Just a little push and there…ahh. Very good. You’ve taken a very big plug, I do hope you can feel that stretch. Sorry patient, I can’t understand a word you’re saying with your mouth forced open like that. I suppose since I’ve got you here, and you being tied down and gagged and all, I can do what I like with you. I do have some experiments in mind, and your body is the perfect specimen. By my measurements your heart is at an elevated pace so do try to calm down and breathe normally.

If your other holes are stretched, why not go for the third? Yes, I’m looking at your dick, lying there like a frightened vole. It should be strong, proud, and upright. Easily fixed. All it takes is a little patience, a little lube, and this set of stainless steel sounds. The first couple slip down the middle of your shaft so easily, like your hole was built for taking these rods. The next one goes slower, no forcing here, just a gradual widening of your urethra. It’s strange, but it feels good to conquer this place in your body, take control of everything you feel. There we are, see? Held up with the sounding rod you’re perking up much more. Let me smooth that out for you just a touch.

What’s that? Alright, I will interpret your wordless grunts to mean that you are thirsty. Well timed, as I’m simply bursting to pee, and how could I let all of that golden nectar go to waste? One gag replaces another, this one is a tube connected to a funnel. I will tilt your head in a way so that you can get a nice long drink without wasting any. I’m standing above you so that gravity can do its job, of course. This piss is so good for you, it’s packed with nutrients. Guzzle down my golden showers, patient, and you’ll be right as rain. Don’t spill a single drop or else I’ll have to put in a bigger butt plug and I won’t be so gentle this time. I love the idea that my hot sweet golden is boiling around in your belly. I can be nurturing, by all means. I will clean your face up with a soft, sterile cloth. It’s so nice to be completely clean, isn’t it?


Cock and ball torture. It’s the torture part of it that makes you shrivel, isn’t it? Well let me lay it out now: you are going to leave my clinic with your treasure fully intact. I may have a huge step-by-step castration poster on the wall, but really. When I show up with a peice of string, a handful of clothespegs, a metal comb, and a smile, I intend to delight you and transport you into a level of sensation that you can’t get from humping the washing machine. Give me your tender parts for an hour, I will get to work on that place you hold most dear, administering sensations ranging from tingles to tears.

At the very light end of the scale, pricks of pleasure run through you when I lightly drag a metal comb or pinwheel across you. A pleasant scratching. One level up, the string wraps around you, holding you at attention, tightly. Constricting you, so it feels as though I am gripping you at all times. Ready for more? The pegs clip on, slowly, all over. I have all sizes and strengths, and some are nice and some are nasty. Further on, I attach a tiny skirt around your sack which I can attach a range of weights to, in order to pull you down, down down down. This is a very stretchy organ, with a quick recovery time. So it may hurt now, but it’s worth it darling. How many lbs can you carry on your balls? Come to me to experiment.

My favourite new toy was given to me by a nice boy who fashioned a smother box for me, and added a humbler to the gift package. Oh what fun! This device allows the wearer to remain in an all-fours position, whether crawling on the floor or tumbled into his back, legs in the air. The balls are caught between two peices of wood, which are screwed together at the back of the thighs, so the straighter you stand, the further it pulls. It’s amazing the things that excite me nowadays. Picture a boy on his knees, collared at the neck with a chain dangling down his body attached to another loop at his prick, and decorated with a humbler, vigorously scrubbing filth off the skirting boards in my living room. My stars.

Now we slide further up the scale of torture. If needles make you uneasy, skip this paragraph. There is someting about peircing skin that is very intimate. I am managing someone’s pain, sliding small skewers through flesh like butter, sewing them up with needle and thread, changing their shape using tiny metal tools. Why?? Because you can handle it. Because you can take the pain I give you. You get a release when you scream, when you give away your right to comfort.

Can I take your further? Saline infusions, what a world of pain, confusion, and total lack of control. I feed the solution into you through a tube (I’ve been trained to administer this treatment) and inflate your bag to a hilarious size.

I haven’t even got to ball busting! There really is so much I can go on about torturing the cock and balls, that it will have to wait.

The Ultimate Sissy Slut Training: Part 2 of 4

This is a fantasy of a male  undergoing complete physical transformation, dressing up, and slut training. You go on a journey where you take cock, eat cum, and get double fisted. Enjoy.

Part 1 of this story ended with you shivering and exposed under my scrutiny, awaiting assesment for full surgical sissification.


We left off with me pulling at your underwear, exposing you and then pushing the material right up tight against your cock so you could get your kicks from the pressure of the fabric, get you off with a square of cotton. You’re so easy to get wet. All I have to do is press your boy panties onto your hard-on with the tiniest firmness, and you’re moaning and panting like a college virgin.

“Clothes off. Everything off. Quickly, boy. Not just thrown over the chair like that, *fold* them.” You scurry to neaten up and then I lift your chin up with my satin-gloved hands, “Have some respect for yourself. Show me that you think you’re worth my attention,” I say smugly, since we both know that you aren’t really. I like you like this, naked, nervous, in my hands.

But we have a lot of work to do to get you ready for the assfucking I’m going to give you. I only fuck pretty girls. lucky for you there’s not a lot of hair on you or else somebody would need a full-body shave. So we’d better get you dressed up, hadn’t we.

My closet is as big as a banquet hall. Dresses on hangers bulge out wall-to-wall of silk, lace, tulle, leather, velvet, brocade, and all the luxurious fabrics from the exquisite hidden corners of the world. A princess would sweat with envy. A vast library of high-heeled shoes dominates the opposite wall, from tiny satin pumps to generously sized PVC thigh-highs. I wonder which ones you’ll get to choose. A gleaming makeup station shimmers with powders, creams and tinctures, and a neat row of wigs on mannequins runs above the vanity mirror.

You kneel naked and shy-boyish at the entrance, and I nudge you forward with the tip of my leather boot. You crawl to the middle of this decadent lounge, up to the transformation platform.

“Put your feet on the markers. Hands through the loops. Good boy. What we’re about to do will feel a touch prickly, maybe a little pinchy, but I think you’ll like it in the end.” I press a button and metal restraints slide over your wrists and ankles, so you’re standing up straight with your arms and legs spread wide, no movement allowed. All at once, several sharp mechanical arms descend on your butt, chest, and face. They inject, implant, and remove bits and pieces at furious speed. Then you are sewn up and spray-tanned.

After what seems like a flash, the whole ordeal is over, and you are left clean, polished, and absolutely feminine. Your cock still dangles between your thighs, but now those thighs are shapely, curved, dainty. Only then do you notice a pair of beautiful breasts floating on your chest, the nipples soft pink and perky. You lick your lips with lust for yourself, and find them to be plump and firm. You blink in disbelief, and your lids are heavy with long natural lashes. Looking straight ahead, a full-length mirror shows what you have become. A girl. A hot, horny slut with a cock, pure and perfect, begging to be fucked.

I’m standing next to the mirror, taking pleasure in watching you meeting yourself. “Are you cold, Alice?” I purr.

“Pardon, Mistress?” You choke on your words when you hear your voice. How did it get so suddenly high? How long were you out under those machines? Such an extreme transformation must have taken a long time. Or maybe this is who you’ve been all along. Alice the girly cum slut, built for one purpose: taking cock.

“I said,” I breathe languidly, “Are you cold? Do you need some clothes to cover you up?”

“Ohhh yes please, Mistress, please dress me.”

I press a button, the restraints slide away, and you are free. You walk on your new, slender legs, your hard dick swaying with your strides, somehow not out of place.

A panel slides open and a clothes rack of underwear spills out. You stand in awe as I run my finger along the impressive selection of lace, leather, and latex, of full bloomers, teeny weeny thongs, crotchless teasing ones, frilly gartered ones, sensible ones, pink, black, red, purest white….. which one will suit my Alice? My gloved finger stops on a black latex bra and panties, designed to look like lace around the edges. I chose it not only because I love rubber, but because there is a delightful hole placed just so that your butt will be fully accessible to me when the time comes. Because this whole thing is for my benefit, making you fit to fuck.

I pull the bra around your body and it holds your breasts so nicely, that gorgeous cleavage so tempting and teasing. Next the underwear, which miraculously holds your cock in place while exposing the little slit of your bum. It’s rather fetching actually. And shiny.

I pull you by the wrist over to the dress rack, bypassing the ballgowns, the flimsy frocks, and over to the clubwear. You are getting excited about this, feeling the rubber slide over your perfect flesh, restricting but moveable, like a second skin. I have the perfect dress. Pastel pink rubber, short as short can be, very fitted and revealing on top, and a little bit flared on the bottom so you can twirl sweetly. You’ll look like the girliest slut in town. Arms through the front, I zip you up the back and it sucks everything in. I can’t even tell you have a dick unless I graze my nails over that place and feel it jump. You wiggle over to the shoe gallery and pick out the most whoreish stiletto boots you can get your greedy hands on. Black leather that hugs your legs all the way up, with a long up the back.

Now you’re dressed like a very good girl. This is how you’ve always meant to look.

“You’re very sexy, Alice. You’d better be careful looking like that, someone might want to take advantage.”

“yes Mistress,” you say meekly.

As we walk you over to the makeup table, you trip over your heels and fall over on your face on the carpet. It’s difficult not to laugh while I watch you struggle to get up. Wriggling on the ground like that, you’re quite irresistable. I place one knee on your back to pin you down to the ground, and flip your dress up. Your bum is so cute I can’t resist giving it a slap, and a few more to make you squeak. It’s blushing a little. You raise your hips, inviting me in again, begging for my pinky to nudge into your hole, but I don’t fuck ladyboys who have no make up on. Don’t worry, my vanity chair has straps to hold you down while I do my work on you. Lube up little whore, the more you look like a girl, the less say you’ll have in matters of my desire. Is your hole ready?