Continued torture

**[CONTINUATION]**

Chloe appeared in the doorway, and behind her, yawning and rubbing her eyes, came Madison.

They looked at Kevin. Kevin looked at them. The moment stretched.

And then Chloe said, "oh my god, you look *perfect*."

Kevin opened his mouth to respond, but Chloe was already moving. She grabbed her phone off the dresser and held it up. The little red dot appeared. Recording.

"Say hi to the camera, Kevina."

"Chloe, what did you *do* to me—"

"Say hi to the camera."

"Hi to the camera."

Chloe started walking around him, slow, circling like a nature documentary cameraman filming a newly discovered species. The camera moved over the wig, over the bangs, over the sleeping girl in the bed who was actually a boy and was starting to realize just how thoroughly he had been redesigned overnight.

"Okay, so, viewers," Chloe narrated, "this is my brother. His name is Kevin. He is eighteen years old. He is a boy. *Allegedly.*"

"I'm a boy," Kevin said.

"Are you, though?" Madison said, and she reached over and gave the left breast a soft squeeze.

Kevin made a noise.

"Oh my god, did you hear that?" Chloe said.

"He *squeaked*," Madison said.

"I did not squeak."

"You squeaked," they said in unison.

Chloe zoomed in on his chest. The camera panned over the henna. **SISSY** in looping script. **Property of Chloe & Madison.** The little hearts. The little bows. The **0.25** circled above his navel with the arrow pointing down. The little arrow on his lower stomach, pointing at his crotch, ending in the word **clit**.

"Okay so let's do a little inventory here," Chloe said, and she was *enjoying* this, she was enjoying this so much. "Let's see what we've got. Wig? Check. Nails? Check. Boobs? Check. Henna? Check." She paused. "Cage? Let's check the cage."

"Chloe—"

"Stand up."

Kevin stood up.

He stood up in his pink panties, with his wig and his boobs and his nails and his henna and the little pink cage locked around his tiny soft penis, and he stood in front of his sister and his crush while they filmed him and he felt, in that moment, about as exposed as a human being can feel.

"Okay so, for the viewers at home," Chloe said, still filming, "let's do the grand reveal."

She reached forward and hooked her finger under the waistband of his panties and pulled them down, just enough, just past the cage.

The camera zoomed.

The cage was small. The cage was *so* small. It was a pink plastic tube with a little lock on the end, and inside the tube, soft and small and unremarkable, was Kevin's quarter-inch penis, sitting in the pink plastic like a pea in a pod.

The camera held on it.

Madison started laughing.

And once Madison started laughing, Chloe started laughing, and once they were both laughing, Kevin was standing there with his panties down and a camera on his crotch and two girls losing their minds over the size of his dick.

"It's a *baby*," Madison wheezed.

"It's a *micro* cage," Chloe said. "They make micro cages for *micro* dicks."

"They made it *custom*."

"They made it *for him*."

"His *actual* size."

"It *fit him*."

"It *fit him perfectly*."

Kevin pulled his panties up. The laughter continued.

"Okay okay okay," Chloe said, catching her breath, "so let's talk about the cage itself. What do we think?"

"I think it's cute," Madison said.

"It's adorable."

"It's *humiliating*."

"Very humiliating."

"Very cute."

"The cutest humiliation."

Kevin looked down at himself. At the little pink cage. At the tiny lump it made in his panties, which was somehow even smaller than the lump he'd had *before* the cage.

"Why is it so small?" he asked.

"Because *you* are so small," Chloe said.

"The cage is the *smallest* cage," Madison said. "We went to the store and we asked 'what's the smallest cage you have' and the lady said 'this one' and we said 'perfect' and she said 'for who' and we said 'my brother' and she said 'how big is he' and we said 'a quarter inch' and she *laughed*."

"She laughed," Chloe confirmed.

"She said 'that's the smallest one we have and it might still be too big.'"

Kevin died a little.

"She was right, by the way," Chloe said. "There's extra room in there. He doesn't even fill it."

"He's rattling around in there."

"He's *swimming* in there."

Kevin put his hands over his crotch.

"That's not going to help," Madison said.

"I know."

"Everybody knows."

"I know."

"The camera knows."

"I *know*."

Chloe kept filming. She had a plan. She always had a plan. She circled him one more time, then stopped, then held the phone up close to his face.

"Okay, Kevina. Question time."

"Question time?"

"Question time. On camera. For the record."

"What record?"

"The record of your sissification."

"There's a record?"

"There's a *record*."

Kevin swallowed.

"Question one," Chloe said. "Who's the girl here?"

"Me," Kevin said.

"Louder."

"Me."

"Say 'I'm the girl.'"

"I'm the girl."

"Say 'I'm the sissy girl.'"

"I'm the sissy girl."

"Good girl."

Kevin's brain did a small thing when Chloe said "good girl." He didn't have time to examine it, because Chloe had moved on.

"Question two. How big is your little clit?"

Kevin closed his eyes.

"A quarter inch," he said.

"A quarter inch *what*?"

"A quarter inch *hard*."

"Soft?"

"Even smaller."

"How much smaller?"

"...Basically nothing."

"Basically nothing," Chloe repeated, to the camera. "The boy's penis is *basically nothing* when soft."

Madison lost it again. She had to sit down. She was wheezing. She was holding her stomach.

"Question three," Chloe said. "What are you wearing?"

"Panties," Kevin said.

"What kind?"

"Pink."

"Who do they belong to?"

"...You."

"That's right. They're *mine*. Say 'I'm wearing my sister's panties.'"

"I'm wearing my sister's panties."

"And whose boobs are those?"

"...Mine."

"They're *glued on*, Kevina. Whose boobs are those?"

"...Yours."

"That's right. Say 'I have my sister's boobs glued to my chest.'"

"I have my sister's boobs glued to my chest."

"And whose wig is that?"

"...Yours."

"Whose nails?"

"...Yours."

"Whose *cage*?"

"...Yours."

"That's right. *Everything* is mine. *Everything* you're wearing is mine. Say it."

"Everything I'm wearing is yours."

"Say 'I'm your sissy.'"

"I'm your sissy."

"Say 'I'm your *bitch*.'"

"I'm your bitch."

Chloe lowered the phone. She was grinning. Madison was grinning. They looked at each other. They looked at Kevin. They looked at Kevin's cage. And then Chloe said, in a voice that was far too calm for the situation:

"Okay. One more question. Are you hard right now?"

Kevin looked down. Inside the cage, his tiny penis was doing its best. It was pushing against the pink plastic. It was trying to grow. It was failing, because there was nowhere to go, but it was *trying*.

"...A little," Kevin said.

"You're hard in a micro cage," Madison said.

"A *quarter inch* hard in a micro cage."

"Basically nothing hard in a basically nothing cage."

"He's *locked* in there."

"He's *stuck* in there."

"He can't even get hard."

"He's *trying*."

"He's *failing*."

"He's *pushing* against the bars like a little prisoner."

"A little *tiny* prisoner."

"A little tiny *clit* prisoner."

Kevin sat down on the bed. The boobs bounced. He bounced. Madison noticed. Madison pointed. Chloe filmed.

"Did you see his boobs bounce?" Madison said.

"I *saw* his boobs bounce."

"Say 'my boobs bounced.'"

"My boobs bounced."

"Say it like you mean it."

"My *boobs* *bounced*."

Kevin was dying. Kevin was actively dying. His face was red. His ears were red. His whole body was red. He was a red, blushing, hennaed, caged, wig-wearing, breast-glued, nail-glued sissy boy sitting on his sister's bed while his sister and his crush filmed him and laughed at his tiny locked dick, and there was nothing he could do about any of it.

He lay back on the bed.

The boobs shifted. The wig fanned out on the pillow. The nails glittered. The cage sat there.

Chloe kept filming. Madison kept laughing. Kevin stared at the ceiling.

And then