pregnant-sissy-abdl

[pregnant-sissy-abdl]

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[pregnant-sissy-abdl]

"yeth Mistress right away"

[pregnant-sissy-abdl]

John's dream always was to become a real-life bimbo doll.

[pregnant-sissy-abdl]

In the early stages of sissification, it is important to ensure comprehensive and continuous feminization. As long as the target person has not yet accepted his feminization, the clothes should be locked on the target person so that they cannot be removed.

At some point, the target person accepts that he is a sissy, and from then on locks are no longer needed (other than for fun).

[pregnant-sissy-abdl]

When I was younger, I thought I wanted a woman like this woman in the picture: an athletic blonde with a tight ass and wearing shiny leggings.

Now that I have such a woman, I understand that it is not enough. Now I want to be the same myself: a woman, blonde, with a tight ass and wearing women's shiny leggings. And to experience and feel all that femininity myself.

I'm on my way there...

[pregnant-sissy-abdl]

#sissytip of the day...

[pregnant-sissy-abdl]

The Sissy Island

On a distant island in the middle of the North Atlantic lies an island (whose name we cannot reveal). Due to the island's gene pool, approx. 90% boys and only 10% girls are born there.

Everyone is allowed to keep their birth gender until the age of 18, but soon after that, the final gender of those born male is drawn by lottery. Those who have to change their gender to girls go through a process that includes medical treatment and psychologically "reprogramming" the brain.

The latter includes e.g. a wedding ceremony where those transformed into women are married to each other. Long-term drug implants support the process: sexual desires are increased more than 100 times compared to the rest of the population, but chastity devices prevent penile orgasms, in effect forcing them to continuously pursue sissygasms (orgasm without penile stimulation).

According to local research, after only about a week's honeymoon and an average of about a hundred sissygasms, men have become completely and irreversibly "women" (or at least so-called sissies) from the point of view of sexuality. After the surgical process is over, they're all set to start a new life as women and keep the men on the island satisfied.

[pregnant-sissy-abdl]

And also, please, throw the key away... for good!

[pregnant-sissy-abdl]

❤️ Pregnancy equals Beautiful ❤️

[pregnant-sissy-abdl]

Modern Bride Dec 94-Jan 95 (1 post, 9 scans total)

I've discovered that some ass is resizing my original scans and removing the date and magazine information. This leaves numerous copies of the image floating around with no idea of it's provenance. I've blocked the one blog who seems to be the perpetrator and will keep my eye open for any others. I'm adding this info as a service for fans of these vintage fashions. People who remove it are just plain assholes and will be blocked with a vengeance!

[pregnant-sissy-abdl]

The Pink Pill

(To read the previous chapter, click here...)

Chapter 2

I stared at the screen, the horrifying truth sinking in. The pink pills were a powerful hormone replacement therapy drug, highly addictive, designed to make it nearly impossible to stop once started. My body, my mind, had been manipulated and altered without my consent. Emily had done this to me.

Next morning I decided to confront her. I walked into the kitchen, my heart pounding in my chest. Emily turned to me, her smile faltering when she saw the look on my face.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice dripping with faux concern.

I held up the bottle of pink pills. "What are these, Emily? What have you been giving me?"

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of fear. Then, she composed herself. "They're just medicine to help with your dizziness. I told you, a friend of mine is a pharmacist."

"Stop lying!" I shouted, my voice echoing through the small kitchen. "I know what these pills are. They're hormone replacement therapy drugs. Highly addictive. Why, Emily? Why would you do this to me?"

Emily's face twisted into an expression I had never seen before—cold, calculating. "I needed you to need me," she said quietly. "I wanted to take care of you, to make sure you'd never leave me. This was the easiest way."

The room spun, not from the dizziness, but from the sheer betrayal. I couldn't stay here. I couldn't stay with her. "I'm leaving," I said, my voice shaking. "I can't stay with someone like you."

Emily's eyes narrowed. "You can't leave. You need those pills. Without them, you'll be helpless. You'll come crawling back."

Ignoring her, I turned and walked out of the kitchen, heading to the bedroom to pack my things. My mind raced with fear and determination. I had to get out of there.

I threw my clothes and essentials into a bag, my heart pounding. I had to leave before the dizziness returned. I couldn't let Emily see me weak. I had to reach my best friend, Jason. He'd understand. He'd help me.

I left my apartment, my bag slung over my shoulder. The cool morning air hit my face as I hurried to my car. I started the engine and drove, my mind racing. Jason lived across town, and I needed to get there before the withdrawal symptoms hit. Halfway there, the dizziness began. It started as a slight wooziness, but within minutes, it grew worse. My vision blurred, and my hands trembled on the steering wheel. I pulled over to the side of the road, my breathing ragged. The nausea and headache were overwhelming.

I fumbled for my phone and called Jason, but it went straight to voicemail.

Desperate, I did the last thing I wanted to do: I called Emily.

"Emily, it's me. I'm… I'm not feeling well. I'm near the old gas station on Elm Street," I said, my voice weak.

"I'll be there soon," she replied, her voice disturbingly calm.

Emily arrived within ten minutes. She got out of her car and approached me, but I noticed she didn't bring the pills. "Why didn't you bring the pills?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"You need to come home for those," she said, her eyes cold. "Let's get you back, and you'll feel better."

I didn't have the strength to argue. She helped me into her car and drove us back to the apartment. My head swam, and I fought to stay conscious. The moment we stepped inside, Emily handed me a pink pill. Desperate for relief, I swallowed it quickly.

As the dizziness subsided, a cold realization settled in. Coming back home was a mistake. Emily's grip on me was tightening, and I had walked right back into her trap. She watched me with a satisfied look, knowing I was once again under her control.

I sat on the couch, the effects of the pill coursing through me. Emily sat beside me, her hand resting on mine. "See? Everything's better now," she murmured.

But it wasn't better. I was trapped, addicted, and at her mercy. And the worst part was, I had no idea how to break free from her.

(To be continued...)

[pregnant-sissy-abdl]

Cock cage + pink satin lingerie + massage wand + huge anal plug = Dripping into panties, moaning, a new wonderful sensation and the strongest orgasm you ever will experience.

[pregnant-sissy-abdl]

Winner of the "Wedding Portrait 2024" competition.

Bride: Mary Andersen (formerly known as Michael S. Andersen)

Feminization: The Swiss Gender Clinic AG

Pregnancy belly: PR Plastic Surgery Center, special procedures department (Japan)

[pregnant-sissy-abdl]

An obedient sissy who walks down the aisle in a wedding dress she sewed herself is every man's dream.

[pregnant-sissy-abdl]

It looks that you will be wearing the cock cage and the pink maid dress for a REALLY LONG TIME...

[pregnant-sissy-abdl]

The moment when you realize there is no way back...

[pregnant-sissy-abdl]

The Pink Pill

Chapter 1

It had been a whirlwind romance, filled with spontaneous dates and long conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning. After a month of bliss, my girlfriend, Emily, faced an unexpected crisis: she needed to move out of her apartment. With no other place to go, I offered her a place in my own home. It seemed like the right thing to do, a step forward in our budding relationship.

The first week went smoothly. Emily settled in, I was mostly staying home due to being jobs, and we adjusted to our new living arrangement. But one evening, I started to feel an overwhelming dizziness. My head spun, and I had to sit down to avoid collapsing. Emily noticed my distress and quickly brought me a small, pink pill.

“Here, take this. It’ll help,” she said, her voice calm and soothing.

Desperate for relief, I swallowed the pill. Within minutes, the dizziness faded, replaced by a strange clarity. I felt better than I had all day.

The next day, the dizziness returned, stronger this time. Emily was prepared. She handed me another pink pill, and once again, I felt instant relief. This cycle repeated for several days. Each time the dizziness struck, Emily was there with the mysterious pink pill.

Curious and worried about this recurring ailment, I asked Emily where she got the pills and what did they contain.

“A friend of mine is a pharmacist. She gave them to me in case of emergencies,” she explained with a reassuring smile.

As the days passed, I learned to take the pills myself. Emily had left a bottle on the kitchen counter, and I started taking them every morning to preempt the dizziness. It became a routine, almost an unconscious act.

Then one day, I began to notice changes in my body. My clothes felt tighter, not around the waist, but around my hips and chest. I looked in the mirror and was shocked to see my reflection. I had gained weight, not the typical beer belly, but in unusual places. My buttocks had grown fuller, and to my horror, I had developed what could only be described as man-boobs.

Alarmed, I confronted Emily. She looked genuinely concerned but insisted that she didn’t know what could be causing these changes. “Maybe it’s stress or something in your diet,” she suggested.

Determined to find answers, I stopped taking the pills. The dizziness returned with a vengeance, leaving me incapacitated. Emily found me lying on the bathroom floor and, without a word, handed me another pink pill. I had no choice but to take it.

I began to investigate the pills myself. One night, while Emily was asleep, I searched the internet for any information on the pink pill. After hours of fruitless searching, I finally found a match. The pill was a hormone replacement therapy drug, typically prescribed to individuals transitioning genders. My heart raced. Why was Emily giving me these pills? What was her true intention?

Digging deeper, I discovered something even more disturbing. According to the internet, these pills were far more addictive than any known drug. The inventor of the pills, "Global Gender Equality Foundation", had designed them so that once hormone replacement therapy was started, it would be virtually impossible to stop the process. The addictive nature of the pills ensured that users would need to keep taking them indefinitely.

The realization hit me like a freight train. Emily had been manipulating me, changing my body without my consent, and ensuring I would become dependent on these pills. The woman I had trusted, the woman I probably even loved, had betrayed me in the most insidious way possible.

And that was the moment everything changed.

(To read the next chapter, click here...)