The Feminisation Initiative Ch. 02

The room was quiet and dark - the only illumination spilled from the Observation Room window over the eight beds and their occupants. The only sound in the room was the whirring of the machines, and the occasional muffled moan.

In the Observation Room booth, the Director of the F-center fiddled with the control panel nervously and jogged her leg. The President herself had decided to pay an official visit to an F-Center, to reassure the public (and, the Director didn't doubt, satiate her own curiosity). The whole initiative hinged on what was being done in the centers, and as Head of Implementation, it had fallen on the Directors' shoulders to transform the caterpillars she had been given into butterflies; to use every shred of her knowledge to turn the young men she had been given into the saviors their country needed.

A door slid open, and the President stepped in. Petite and dark-haired, she was wearing her trademark red skirt suit, which the Director felt privately was cut shorter on her dark stockinged legs than it needed to be. Her expression was one of supreme power and confidence, as usual - somehow she appeared both dainty and fully in-charge.

"Stephanie! How wonderful to see you again," the President beamed, as she took a seat and immediately kicked off her heels. The Director shifted sideways to accommodate room - this was not a two person booth. The door slid shut.

"Madame President! What a pleasure it is to see you again as well - I trust all is well?" said the Director, anxiously. She could deal with any scientific endeavor or process, no matter how scandalous or unsavoury - but she hated dealing with the politics and questionable morals that came with it.

"It's going well, Stephanie, not too badly - the electorate complains, the House complains and all I have for them is a sweet smile - and of course the new legislation to cover our asses!" the President laughed, her eyes pinned to the Director's obviously uncomfortable face. "As long as we can get the legislation signed - proving that we are granting the freedom for these poor sweet sissies to be themselves, rather than curtailing their freedoms - the we should be fine. It's all in the pipeline, but it's all moot unless we can actually deliver. So don't worry your pretty little head about it Stephanie - and show me what you have here."

The President's eyes remained locked onto the Director's face. The Director blinked, and managed an "of course." She swiveled to get away from that penetrative gaze, and looked out across the darkened dormitory floor. She gently twisted a dial, and the lights dimmed in the booth. Both of them blinked their eyes to adjust.

"These are our first batch of subjec-"

"Don't call them that," the President interjected, her eyes devouring the sight in front of her. "It lessens what we are doing here. Call them what they will be, what they are. Sissies. Feminized sissies. The word may be distasteful to you now, but it's how they are codified in the legislation, and it's the word we will use for them. Please continue."

The Director took a breath, and continued. "Ok. Well, these are our first batch of ... sissies. They all completed their psychological checks with flying colours, within ten minutes, except one. He eventually came through in 20, but that's an outlier. That one over there - in the right-hand corner? He actually completed their simulation in seven minutes and ten seconds, which is a country-wide record."

The President smiled a shark's smile. "Don't play coy with me Stephanie. 'Psychological checks' my ass - I know you call them Slut Sims. So these little whores are ripe for the plucking so to speak. Excellent - Robinson assured me that the selection process was infallible. And it's 'she', not 'him'. Not anymore."

The Director blushed hard - she did indeed know her nurses called it that, but to her the language seemed so vulgar and...well, sexual. She glanced at the President, who was still glued to the scene before her. The Director noticed that the President's legs were slowly rubbing together, one thigh gently sliding down and then up her other. The fabric of her stockings made the process silent, and the Director quickly looked back and stared at her control panel determinedly . Everyone knew the rumours about the President - that she 'enjoyed' herself as she worked - but the Director had never believed them. She did now.

"Anyway...after their checks, they were sedated and processed. It's always best to minimise the number of times you have to sedate the subj- the sissies, to prevent mishaps and tolerance to the drug. The process entails removing all of their body hair, and giving them permanent hair extensions. We then tattoo the make-up - black eyeliner, lip gloss etc. - before finally bringing them to the dormitory to begin conditioning."

"They are uniformed before conditioning begins - this is a way of ensuring when the uniform is worn in the world outside, their conditioning will hold. Each uniform is tight, to maximise physical sensation and therefore maximise the conditioning - they will feel 'bound' to their service in more ways than one."

"Remind me of the uniform again," the President asked. The Director stole another glance - the President looked flushed, and she was twirling a strand of her hair.

"The uniforms are as per your instructions - 6" patent black strappy black heels, locked on to ensure both that premature egress from the facility would be hampered, and for them to practise walking at all times. Black sheer stockings, attached to a garter belt. Black micro skirt over no panties, which we've forgone for now in order to facilitate access. A tight corset, to help create a narrower waist and a larger bust - re-tightened every three days. And of course, the choker. The choker is one of the keystones of the whole operation: we added it to your template, as it's much easier to tie hypnotic conditioning to a physical sensation than anything else."

"What about their little clitties?" the President breathed.

"Their little 'clittys'?" asked the Director with some uncertainty, "you mean their penises?"

The President for the first time wrenched her gaze from the sight in front of her and focused once more on the Director.

"No, I mean their clitties, Stephanie. Men have penises; sissies have clitties. A penis can be used to penetrate; a clitty can only be stimulated for pleasure. It serves as a permanent reminder to them, Director, a symbol of their sissyhood. They must forever live with the fact that they they must be penetrated, not penetrate; be used, not use. They must forever compare their own frustrated and denied manhood with those of men. So please tell me - what about their clitties?"

The Director was stunned by this outburst - clitties? Sissyhood? Her mouth was open in surprise as her brain tried to comprehend the question. This was so unscientific, so vulgar! The President was looking back through the glass window, and it was obvious now that she was definitely getting something out of it, and that it wasn't just her curiosity being satisfied. Her smooth legs continued to rub together, and the Director swore she could hear a faint buzzing. She was so close they were almost touching, and the Director felt an entirely unexpected throb of lust from her own panties. The President appeared to be breathing more heavily than before. She smiled. "Please could you answer the question Director."

The Director swallowed. "OK, Madam President. Their, um...clitties...have been locked up since before the simulation. Each cage is physically impossible to take off, and keeps the...sissies from being about to achieve any kind of erection. However, they constantly feel it's constricting presence, which must be unpleasant for them..."

The President laughed. It was a breathy laugh, and the Director felt that it trailed off into moans rather than guffaws.

"You'd be surprised. Please relex, Stephanie, I'm trying to enjoy this inspection, and you're making it more difficult. Tell me about the conditioning process, but first, let your hair down...and call me Sophie, please."

The Director swallowed again, and slowly brought a hand up to let down her hair bun. She never let her hair down at work.

"Well...ok...Sophie. Once they have been uniformed, we place each sissy in their own specialised Conditioning bed-"

"You mean the Hypno Whore!" the President interjected again, loudly. Her hand was moving slowly up her leg, trailing up the smooth fabric to the folds of her skirt.

The Director...Stephanie had never seen anything like this. She was a woman of clinical expertise and efficiency. She may have operated under government contracts to do less than savoury things, but she had always been able to maintain a distance between her work and herself. And now, with the most powerful woman in the world surreptitiously getting herself off...actually no, not surreptitiously, she wasn't being subtle about this. With the President of the United States willfully pleasuring herself inches away from her in a cramped booth, she decided to throw caution to wind. She could also feel herself getting wetter and wetter by the moment, and crossed her legs to distract herself.

"Yes, that is what my nurses call them. We strap the sissies each into a Hypno Whore. The bed integrates real- time feedback, virtual reality and conditioning..."

Each of the eight sissies in the room beyond were strapped down onto the bed, with their legs and high heels spread wide and tied down. Their smooth thighs trembled and their butt cheeks tightened and relaxed as the long, thin prostate massager buried in their asses stimulated them.

At the other end of the table, they were face down, their now long hair spread wildly over their shoulders. The upper part of their faces were strapped into each table's integrated virtual reality goggle system - the nose was left free to breathe, and the mouth left free to suck. From where the Director and her guest sat, the mouth of the closest sissy was just about visible, her ruby red lips wrapped around the slick dildo that automatically slid in and out of the table surface, in time with the images she was seeing.

"...and I can give you a glimpse, if you like." Without waiting for a response, the Director flipped a switch on her control panel. A large blank systems screen in the middle of the control panel immediately began playing a first-person view of a blowjob, from the girl's perspective. The room was suddenly filled with the sound of moans and whispers:

"Good girl...take it all...it feels so good...you are a slut...you love this...good girl...ohhh I hope I can make you cum...you love this...you can only cum when you have something in your mouth...good girl...it feels so good."

The Director switched it off. It didn't do to listen to too much hypnotic conditioning. She glanced again at President Sophie, whose hand had crept all the way up her skirt a while ago. Her eyes were screwed up tight, and she shifted her weight to widen her legs. One of her legs brushed Stephanie's thigh, and she immediately felt a surge of longing deep within herself. The President was wrapped up in her own world - the Director slowly and soundlessly brought her own hand up her thigh, up her skirt and - there! - touched herself gently through her soaking wet panties. Oh, she thought, that felt so good!

Emboldened in her integrity by her actions, she primly withdrew her hand and smoothed down her skirt. She was a professional, after all.

"Their locked clitties are connected to the table, so as to collect all of their...juices. The precum is mixed with any semen from any previous orgasm, as well as a low dose of female hormones and nutrients. We mix in less and less sedative as the initial two week conditioning period elapses. The tables automatically then add more and more semen from the reserves until it reaches the amount we needed, and this is then loaded into the oral stimu- the dildo they are sucking so desperately. The prostate stimulator and chastity cage, work in tandem with each other to predict the sissies orgasm, until...well, watch our star sissy in the corner!" she said triumphantly, pointing to a pulsing green 'imminent' on the monitor next to the name: Justine.

Justine Tale was shivering with pleasure. Her constricted limbs strained desperately at the bindings, and her clitty strained desperately in her cage. Her mouth and ass felt so full and so good. Her smooth legs and hips bucked wildly against the table, and all quiet thoughts of confusion and rebellion were replaced with sheer pleasure. Lost in her own simulation, bound by the restraints and her sluttly clothes, she slathered and sucked and licked the dildo in her mouth for all she was worth. It expanded slightly, before exploding, gushing the hot salty liquid around her mouth. She desperately sucked trying to comply with the instructions which were her whole world:

"Suck it all, swallow it down...good girl, be the girl, swallow it all, it tastes so good...it tastes so good you want to cum...cum for me gir...it feels so good in your ass...take it all...swallow it all...fuck me...good girl, cum like a girl, good girl!"

She swallowed and kept swallowing and sucking and thrusting her ass back onto the massager. She released a muffled moan as she shifted desperately in her cage. The sensation built and built, her whole body tensed, her eyes rolled back in her head and she came, her own juices squirting relentlessly out from the cage, pulses and pulses of pleasure, making her toes curl in her heels. The buzzing from her ass made her writhe madly, and she kept cumming, the liquid quickly reabsorbed to be recycled by the system.

The two women watched from the window as the orgasm slowly faded from the sissy and she settled back down into her table, exhausted.

The President had throw decorum to wind watching the display and had come to a mind-shattering orgasm of her own, wilfully strumming herself as she moaned. As for the Director, she had balanced her professional integrity against her own raging lust. Her panties were soaked, but she had managed to restrain herself - just. Her husband's tongue had its work cut out tonight.

"After each orgasm, we give them some time to cool off, and sleep if we detect that they are headed that way. After that, we begin again..."

"Every night we deliver the evacuation protocol: the penetrative instruments are removed from each sissy and an unpleasant low-voltage stimulation is delivered: this ensures they associate emptiness with unpleasantness, and love to be filled up. We lower the level of sedation over the fortnight until next Friday, they will be completely awake: and completely compliant sluts. If when we test them the conditioning is deemed a failure, we will keep them in for another week or two."

"The beds automatically shift to prevent bedsores, and the instruments deal with toilet issues - theoretically you could keep them here indefinitely..."

During the speech, the President had cleaned herself up and was once again looking like the most powerful woman in the world, and not a horny schoolgirl. She straightened up and her eyes gleamed

"No no! We need them out there in the real world, where they can do some good...Well thank you, Director. This has been most...educational. I will ensure the legal case goes through. In the meantime, keep up the good work!"

She quickly rose, and moved to the door, before hesitating and turning back. She locked eyes once more with the Director. She leant down, and put her hand up the Directors' skirt to rest one finger lightly on the wet fabric that was her panties. The Director gave a short intake of breath as the President pressed lightly and maintained eye-contact. She smiled - "try not to enjoy yourself too much!"