So...
It's been a while. I have a busy time of things, even in lockdown. Curse coronavirus, but at least it gave me enough time to tap a friend for some tech training.
My worthless sissy has been happily submitting to my will, but she is never satisfied. This led me to wonder whether mistress might have a solution.
World, I give to you the world's first ever sissy fiction created through artificial intelligence.
Forced femme, forced feminisation (forced feminization if you're a colonial sissy slut), crossdressing, you name it - it's in there somewhere. All written by a self-improving algorithm that doesn't care what sissy wants: only what it wants to create.
Would you like to know how I achieved it?
- If you're a sissy, STOP RIGHT NOW SLUT - HOW DARE YOU QUESTION ME? ON YOUR KNEES, FACE AWAY. YES, KNEES. AND, YES, AWAY. IF YOU WERE ANY DUMBER, SLUT, IT'D BE POINTLESS WHIPPING YOU. BUT I'LL BE SURE TO MAKE THE EFFORT IF YOU DISOBEY.
That's better.
So now, as dommes, let's talk.
I first thought about the idea when my sub showed me stories from a company called Halcyon she'd been addicted to around 25 years ago. Halcyon ran a crossdressing website from the UK back in the 90s, which offered phone sex lines (pre-recorded) and a poorly-secured paywall into text stories as well as the odd low-res photo.
She'd saved a lot of its content, and when she first came out I demanded to see her clothes, toys... and porn. It was a revelation. The very straightforward but erotic tone struck a chord, and at that moment our FLR was founded.
Decades later, I think back to those days and the imperfect impressions I had about sissies. And I remember Halcyon's tales of girdled men subjected to the strapons of partners such as myself: the agony and ecstasy of gender role reversal !
Anyway, the stories felt repetitive and predictable for my tastes... but somehow they felt right when I heard about retraining GPT-2. I'm pretty good with tech, and learned python a little while back. So when I heard you could create text using a free AI, well, I wondered what a mistress could do with it!
It took a while. And a lot of patience. And Googling. But I trained an AI on megabytes of stories of femdom hetero sissy porn, including the stories I'd written for my sub to when I worked through his sissy fetish.
This is the first oeuvre, written by my AI after 2,350 iterations of training:
I wore her knickers, and a pair of tights. 'Wait,' he whispered as he placed his hand inside my long silk garter. 'I'm not going to punish you.' I squirmed under his touch as he frowned. 'In your mind?' My eyes flared. 'yes, do I have to tell you?' His look of disbelief was hard to ignore. 'Mummy has nothing to do with your mother-in-law. She did all of the housework for you.' George's lips opened wider; he wanted to scream. 'Stop!' He stared down at me. 'No, I'm sorry, I have no right to punish you.' 'But what do you mean?' I asked softly, if it was a question I should have remained silent. 'And what if I tell you that what you have done in front of my mother is wrong?' I hesitated. 'I'm sorry, I'm not sorry,' I admitted. 'I'm sorry that you have to submit to her punishment. I'm sorry that it has to be this way.' George moved away from me. I couldn't shake the cold grip of fear on my chest. He sat on the couch and rose from his chair. I steeled myself for his presence. 'I'm sorry,' I whispered thickly. 'tick-' He reached down. 'You know what I'm saying?' I squirmed. 'of course I know,' I said. 'And I told you.' He turned away. 'I'm sorry.' I stood. 'don't!' I whispered thickly. 'How can I say this except now you know -' But he did not answer. 'I'm sorry,' he whispered. 'I was wrong.' I felt my face grow warm. I shook my head. 'You know what I'm saying?' He raised his eyes. 'I'm sorry,' he answered. 'I was wrong.' His face went a bright red. 'marghhh!' I slipped my soft arms across his shoulders. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you,' I whispered. 'I am sorry.' His eyes strayed from mine. 'Nothing. 'marrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr It doesn't really make a lot of sense. Who are the characters? What is going on between them? And - vitally for my sissy - where is the crossdressing? And why is everybody so sorry they shout "Maaaaarrrrrgggghhhhh"? Here's the same AI ,writing 50 iterations later: Mother ordered me to wear women's lingerie, and I was surprised when the state-of-the-art model was given my name and address. 'Who is this?' he asked slyly. 'Miss Dorothy?' I nodded, and he shrugged. 'I spend a lot of time at night. I think they always get late.' 'Come off my knees,' I said. 'Tell me what you wear.' 'Get on my chest,' she told me. 'I don't care. You will never have to tell me what you look like.' I blushed. 'What?' 'I want you to tell me with a smile, not a frown.' I was stunned. I knew she was right. Suddenly I felt a surge of guilt. Maybe it was the way she spoke - and the way she sent me on my way. It was awful. It was only the worst of it, I can't say I'm sincere. But when I returned my trembling hands to her chest she cupped her breasts in mine. I felt like a tiny girl. 'You are the biggest woman in the world,' she told me. 'You are the cook, you are the housewife, you are a mother.' My mouth went dry, and I was blushing. I was almost crushed. I could feel the hot air against my face. I was suffocatingly hot in my underwear. And at the same time I was getting aroused. 'They say this is the secret to success. You must be the boss and you must show your mother what you can do.' I was trying to get away - me not wanting the embarrassment of not knowing - but I knew she was right. Now that she was in that position I had no choice. 'I will do anything you ask,' she told me. 'You are the boss, the housewife and the husband. You are the single virgin, you will never have to prove anything to others.' I wasn't quite sure how to react. 'Look at all those beautiful women I've seen in a lot of movies,' she told me softly. 'I'm sure I've seen a lot of them. I've seen them all. But you must remember that they are all women. They are the people who want to be, who want to be...' 'And those women are the women who want to be?' Again, What?! Those are the women who women want to be? What has that do do with the price of satin? After 2,450 iterations, we're getting somewhere. I submitted to her completely, wearing the lingerie she told me to - and she regretted it. 'But you are my whore - remember this - - if you are to be my wife you will have to wear a bra, tight panties and a tight skirt.' Mrs Combs gave me one last look, then she told me to go to bed. 'You have to show me your own bra.' I dropped my eyes. 'And I will wear my skirts!' She told me at once. 'I will wear skirts!' I was shocked - but - I did it - 'No,' I said. Mrs Combs was crying. 'Don't speak of me! You still stiffen me.' I shuddered. Am I actually ruining my own life? 'I am.' She told me. 'I am just used to it. I don't really want to go back to it.' I was dressed in her blouse. I am used to it. And I see another woman with her own bra. 'Do you want to wear your bra?' I asked hopefully. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I know you will, and I don't want anything to affect me.' I was taken aback. 'Then I won't wear a bra... ' I said. Mrs Combs hugged me and stroked my erect member. 'I can't tell you how ashamed I am,' she told me. 'If I had ever been in any predicament, or shown my own bra I would have complained, but I no longer have to. I can just relax.' I was amazed at how I was treated. Mrs Combs was not a woman with much power over me... but she was a woman smart enough to take me to the brink of oblivion. I was meant to take her to bed, and I was going to share a bed with her, and I was going to obey her. Like a trained dog, I dreamed of her choking me. She had spent nearly four hours of her life shuddering with ecstasy. I was ready for sex again. I was ready to obey her, and then I was ready to surrender to her magic. It was a long, long time before I realised my desire was not latent... but it was still there. I was a woman in bed, with my own bra strapped to my breasts. As for after 2,500, well... persistence is the key! 'Force me to put on your corset', I said, 'It will prove to be a big success.' 'I've got you in a bra and panties, don't you?' I asked. 'I feel sick and weak as I look at you.' 'That's why you can't do it,' he told me. 'You don't want to get a dress on.' 'I can't go on like that,' I told him as I stared out of the window. 'I can't go on like that.' 'And here you are, this old housewife,' he said. 'Do you want to go back?' 'With me,' I said. 'and promise to tell you everything. I'll wear you my dress.' 'That's right,' he said. 'Now you've got to promise me everything.' I took his hand and I slipped my other hand inside me. 'I promise. Remember, I'll be here until you ask me to.' He opened his mouth and I heard my mother's small but clear apology. He stared at my wife for a long moment and then he smiled. 'Thank you, thank You.' The door opened. And she was there too. 'It was a pleasure working with you,' I told her. 'but I suppose you should be grateful for that.' She laughed. 'Well, I'm tired of being a servant.' She told me huskily. 'But you'll be happier, you know, if you follow that mould.' I swallowed hard. Personally, I'll be sorry I never found out if wearing her corset would be a big success. Although feeling sick and weak is something I suspect my vanilla friends would do... if they ever found out their partner's fetishes! As for 2,550 iterations... well, we're sort of getting there. He shivered as he slid the panties up his legs. Suddenly, it was obvious he was aroused. He began to squirm. He wanted to masturbate, he wanted to touch his erection. How could he resist? He gasped as his hands dug into the little bottom of his panties - his penis - and - his breasts juttled against the black nylon. He felt the nipples coming up in huge waves! His nipples were so excited he moaned and groaned. The doctor pointed to his chest and said. 'You are to be entered by a small nurse, please do not enter your panties. Doctor can assist you in the lab, if you are shy, he may be able to guide you.' John gasped and said. 'It looks incredible!' He tried to get up, but he was too embarrassed to move. He sat cross-legged on the petticoat. His heart went out to his wife and her husband. 'This is our time, I can't pretend to be anything other than my husband!' He whispered. 'I will not let you get anything else but a simple nightgown.' Her smile was in awe. 'What about my panties?' She asked. 'What about your dildo?' John stood before the mirror with his face shiny with embarrassment. 'I will not be allowed to do anything else. I will be watched and obey, and I will not be asked to do anything else even if it is to help you. It will be my duty to do so, I have been instructed to do as I please. I will have a very nice dildo ready to serve as an expert witness for you. It is not to take the punishment Bill!' John tugged his bra zip down and his eyes went wide. His eyes went wide again. He lifted his eyes to hers and his face went pink. 'Tell me what you want, you're not right Bill. Tell me you don't want to be a man in bed. Tell me this is important. Tell me your true state. Tell me you want to be a woman in bed. Tell me what you want, what you want. Tell me you want to be released from prison.' Her smile was warm and genuine. She was pleased that he had agreed to this.
I'll be posting the results on Fictionmania and Literotica. Hold tight!
