Fawn, a flinchy little wimp that practically begs to be bullied.

You ignore the hoots and hollers of the studs as they describe in grisly, gruesome detail what they'd like to do to you. As far as you're concerned, you could out measure most of the prisoner's pricks and outperform the rest. You walk past with your head held high and your cock jutting out arrogantly and tenting your pants.

You make it to the Sissy Block without incident, and you are a little surprised that their catcalls are even more deviantly detailed, and almost frighteningly creative. You ignore these too, secure in the knowledge of who you are and what you want. You've never been the big dog in any fight you've ever been in, but you've walked away from everyone with your head held high. Okay, some of them you limped away from, but never without laying the other guy out cold.

You see just as many sissies flashing their tight little assholes as there are slipping out their swollen shafts. A stud in a sissy's body surrounded by horny sissy sluts? You could think of worse punishments. Who knows, maybe they'll even have a cure by the time you get out of here. You finally reach your cell, feeling strangely confident and optimistic despite the day you've had. "Alright, 'stud', here's your cell. Try not to bully this one too hard...she might fall in love with you if you do. Haw haw!"

The guard CLANGs the cell door shut behind you and you take in your new roommate for the foreseeable future. She's a tiny little timid creature, hiding her face behind her dark bangs and trying to cover her full figure, and failing, behind an oversized prison top. She wears no pants, which you assume is because she knows they will never stay on for long enough to be worth wearing. Her pale legs barely reach the floor and you would hazard to guess she barely reaches four and a half feet. She manages the bravery to look up at you with Keanesque wet, scared eyes and you take in her delicate button nose and pouty lips. She looks like a pornographic porcelain doll, and you feel a stirring in your loins somewhere between a desire to protect her and pick on her.

"What's your name, cutey?" You say cockily, but with a warmth that borders on kindness. She squirms in her cot and you can tell it takes every ounce of her strength to even meet your stare. She doesn't last long, looking back down at her luscious legs and muttering 'Fawn'.

"Fawn, that's a pretty name. It suits you, too. You look like a little baby deer caught in the headlights. Well don't worry, Fawn, I brake for wildlife." She manages a tiny, fragile laugh like a thin glass bell ringing and you feel the urge to wrap her up in your arms welling up inside you. You remind yourself to play it cool. You better find out what you are getting yourself into before diving in head first. You take a closer look at the shivering sissy and spy the cause of her consternation. Her sissy clit has been locked away in a pink plastic cage. You can't imagine how furious and frustrated you would be if someone did that to you. You ask indignantly, "Who did that to you?!"

Fawn fumbles, frightened but ultimately answering, "Please, don't make a scene. Butch locked me up. She runs S Block. She gave one of the other sissies my key but won't tell me who. Now I have to WHIMPER ask random sissies if they have my key. If they don't, they're allowed to MOAN fuck my throat or my NNH cunt. I think who ever had it, might have thrown it away, to be honest, but getting SIGH fucked is the only way I can cum now anyway." She looks so sad and small...so fragile and fascinating...so weak and wanting...so helpless and horny...so pathetic and punishable...

You are torn between the instinct to help her regain her key, and help yourself to her hungry holes. With the massive changes rocking your worldview and leaving you uncertain about everything you once held as immutable fact. Most of all, you are suddenly not sure who you ARE...