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forcedfeminization Forced Feminization | Do you want to be a slut? Resources: femdom stories feminization hypnosis feminization of sissy free femdom videos male feminization maids femdom drawings sissy husband humiliation facial feminization surgery full feminization forced feminization of a man
<#rss_description#> '); $template = str_replace('<#rss_link#>',$item[link],$template); $template = str_replace('<#rss_title#>',$title,$template); $template = str_replace('<#rss_description#>',$description,$template); echo $template; $itemcount++; } ?> | You see, when I was a little boy, my step-sister use to dress me up in her clothes as a means of punishing and humiliating me. , |
forcedfeminization - Even after I grew and began to play high school ball, my step-sister maintained a psychological grip on me. Though always bigger than me, I suppose I didn't have to go along with her demands. After all I stood up to power forwards all the time on the court, I certainly could have stood up to her. the fact is I didn't. She knew exactly the way to talk to me, to embarrass me, to threaten me in a way that would make me do what she wanted. And what she wanted were usually small things. She made me wear a g-string panty under my gym shorts to the state high school championship game. She said she did it so that even if I hit the game winning shot I would still be able to feel that string of tight nylon scraping against my hole, I would know that I was just her little bitch. The power of childhood conditioning is enormous. When my step-sister died in a car accident my freshman year in college (she was drunk at the wheel) my first reaction was to finally feel free of her torment. But as time passed, as I was no longer "forced" to dress as a girl by my step-sister, I found I was just as mentally compelled to do so as if my step-sister were still alive taunting me and threatening to expose me to the town paper with pictures she had taken. I got an erotic charge out of dressing up, and through collage, I began to collect different articles of female clothing. As I grew up poor, my college dormitory was the only safe haven I had. I often had close calls, when I would just manage to pull a sweatshirt over my head covering up the black lacy training bra I was wearing as my room mate entered the room. ." |
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