End: She Was Born To Be A Sissy

There were no days, no nights. Time was measured in periods of rest and activity...and the changes in Jamie's body and mind.

Lois Lane met the other mistresses. The missing women, young college women with an interest in BDSM, who had come here hoping for...something they didn't have. Confidence, poise, an obedient ****. The fratboys and geeks they had agreed to be their slaves were constantly rebelling, fighting the demon things, suffering punishments...and their mistresses suffered with them. The reporter could see it in the dark bags under their eyes, the slump of their shoulders. These women were prisoners here, prisoners of their own twisted desires, and the toxic relationships with the men they had brought there.

Jamie Olsen, on the other hand...blossomed. As if she had been born to be a sissy.

The latex-demon things gave the sissy injections of "medicine" every day. Lois imagined they were hormones. The lean body shifted, features more androgynous, the flat chest softened into budding breasts. The cock and balls, never huge, shrank with the protracted use of the medicine and the constant caging.

For her own part, Lois helped as much as she could. There were lessons for them both to be learned. How to obey, and how to demand obedience. Lois learned the importance of rituals, of routines. They worked out together. He helped her get dressed in the morning. She punished him when he faltered...and rewarded him when he did well. The sullen-eyed bitches looked on jealously as the demons guided Lois and Jamie from one building to another. One test and task after the next.

Lois Lane remembered one time especially. The first time Jamie had a sissygasm.

The hair on Jamie's body had long since been removed by electrolysis. Jamie kept her ass...her boy pussy...clean and ready for use. Lois had swallowed her distaste long ago, and now she was eager to help her sissy **** stretch and play with her hole. Today...or whatever time it was...Lois had pressed further than before. Four fingers in Jamie's slick hole, the cock hung limp in its cage.

She folded her thumb into her palm. The demon's had ordered her to fuck her whole hand up Jamie's ass today. Jamie's moans made Lois Lane's nipples hard as the thumb pressed against the slick pink rim of her once-pert pucker.

"Think of it like a cock," Lois had whispered. "Think of it as Superman's own massive cock, stretching out your bussy. Telling you what a good girl you are, a very good girl indeed..."

Her thumb had slipped in...she felt the warm, slick flesh against the back of her hand, all the way to the wrist...and maybe it was the wors, the image. Maybe it was her fingers that pressed against the hard little nut of his prostate. Whatever it was, Jamie moaned exactly like a real girl, and a yellow-white stream, thick and gooey, oozed out of her sissy clitty in a steady stream. Lois continued to milk it until it was all gone. All that nasty cum.

It wasn't long after that the spindly-limbed latex-creatures ushered them back to the ring of flame...and there was a door. A white door.

<<You are a girl.>>

Jamie wore her best dress. Her eyes were downcast, modestly. Lois still held the key to the cage that held her small cock. She glanced over at the young woman...for that's what Jamie looked like now. her orange hair had grown out to collar length, and there was a pink hair clip. She wore makeup, subtle but feminine, with lipstick and eyeshadow and a touch of rouge. A comfortable plug held her ass ready to be used. The breasts were nearly as large as Lois Lane's own, with small rings pierced through the nipples...and the collar had been replaced with a pink choker that his her Adam's apple.

"I am," Jamie Olsen said.

The white door opened. Lois Lane walked through it first, head held high, shoulders back. Jamie followed, two steps behind his mistress.

Out into the alley behind the club. Out into the cold and darkness of Metropolis and the mortal world. Out of the place where a single night out can stretch into weeks and months of training, body modification...and two people can become, not lovers, but something just as close and intimate.

"What now, mistress?" Jamie whispered.

Lois Lane snapped her fingers. She walked, and Jamie followed. The reporter was already thinking how she'd need a bigger place...one with a room for Jamie. New clothes for her sissy slut. Legal name change. Bigger toys. The reporter's heels clicked on the sidewalk, and she was barely cognizant of her own appearance...the demons had dressed her in latex and leather and spikes, as befit a mistress...

A new day was set to dawn, and Lois Lane's sissy followed wherever her mistress would lead.

Blaze smiled from the shadows of the alley. It was not the outcome she had expected...but she was not displeased with this result. Indeed, it held certain interesting possibilities...ones that she might explore, on Lois Lane's next night out.