Season 7 Prologue - Under the Influence Part 6.5

 0/25

Something to wet the....appetite...

I have added links to the rest of the Under the Influence caps to my index page

Lady Radius sneered into the webcam making sure not to block the view of her subject behind her. The trussed up feminised man gave a perfectly timed whimper through his napkin gag and the domina watched with satisfaction as donations and offerings came flooding in on the monitor. She was playing a wedding night scene with one of her sissy slaves and she made sure to give her subscribers a good view of her skin-tight latex tuxedo and top hat whilst maintaining her aura of absolute domination.

“What do you pathetic shits want to see now?” She cracked a folded leather whip into her palm and gestured over her shoulder to where her ‘bride’ sat in clear discomfort squeezed into an agonisingly tight corset and tied to a footstool. The figure leaned forward as much as its bonds would allow to avoid putting full weight on the bejewelled buttplug tucked beneath the thong underwear section of the corset.

A flurry of requests filled the chat – “strap-on”, “face-fuck”, “tickle torture” – all good ideas but she ignored any that didn’t come with a financial gift. She slapped the whip once more to keep her slave trembling while she waited for a paying request. At last, a loud orgasmic moan came from her monitor indicating someone had made a donation and $10 appeared next to one of the usernames in the chat.

Lady Radius paused. There were no perverse instructions next to the payment – just a link to an OnlyFemmes profile. Curious, she clicked through and began to read. Some Femboy model appeared to have put a $10k bounty on himself for whoever made him their slave. The domme almost forgot herself and slipped into an excited smile as she surveyed the pictures of the soft little blonde trap. She would make him her masterpiece.

“Sorry to cut our wedding night short,” she turned off the webcam and addressed the quivering sissy in her living room. “But there’s a game afoot!” She tucked her whip into a latex cummerbund. “I will be back for you later…maybe…”

Zoligomyst Presents - Season 7 (A Sissy's Work is Never Done)

 You may have noticed I posted a countdown a few weeks back - maybe not.

Regardless, I am pleased to tell you that I have just put the finishing touches on my latest collection of 25 captions/stories.

Once the timer hits zero, the fun will begin with 25 weeks of Sissy Sunday. I really hope you enjoy them.

Having posted just 14 stories in the last four years, my writing is a little rusty but I am really pleased with the ideas and storylines I have put together. There will be old friends and new, and I truly feel that, unlike with other seasons I posted, there are zero filler caps and everything is good femme fun.

Being the diehard introvert, I generally hate self promotion, but I don't think I should be able to disappear for so long without at least some explanation. Essentially, I have spent the last two and half years building a computer system, and, being the workaholic that I am, I have also spent this time neglecting friends, family, my health and the things that bring me joy - including creating these silly stories with ludicrous recurring characters.

Well, that's about to change. Season 7 is finished and coming (lol!) and you will notice that I am spacing the captions out weekly. This is to ensure I have plenty of time to get Season 8 ready to launch soon after. It is actually fully planned out - I just don't want to rush the writing and I can longer churn out 8 captions a night as I used to 12 years ago...

See you soon!

zoli

Whatever Happened to the Zoligomyst?

Countdown Timer

'O' Sissy, My Sissy!

“Studies have shown that the female orgasm can be up to ten times more intense than its male equivalent,” Jane Silver let her words wash over the auditorium full of people before her. “Doesn't seem very fair, does it?” There were murmurs, giggles and even a few cheers from her audience of two hundred couples that had been specially invited to her presentation. “That's why here at MyPleasure, we have developed a drug that stimulates the male brain during ejaculation to emit theta waves equivalent to its female counterpart, simulating the female orgasmic experience.” She paused. “That's science talk for 'it will make you cum your brains out' like you can only dream about.”

There were whoops from the crowd and couples looked at each other in wonder with winks and wet lips. There was a palpable excitement in the room now, especially from the men. “Now,” Jane continued, “what do us girls get out of this deal?” She smiled out a few good natured heckles and stepped closer to the edge of the stage. “As you know, you were invited here today for our product launch after filling out one of our sexual fantasy questionnaires online. These were answered independently from your partners so not to bias the responses and I can tell you now, gentlemen, that every lady in this room answered one certain question in a very specific way.” She paused again to allow the suspense to build. “When asked, 'on a scale of one to ten, how much would you like to feminise your partner?', they responded...10!”

The atmosphere in the crowd changed in an instant. The room was suddenly filled with looks of shock and suspicious glances. “Well, ladies, we know that just one experience of our product will be enough to get you whatever you want. After all, our new drug is only on sale to women, and we know for a fact that every man in this room will do whatever it takes for another taste of sweet ecstasy.” The heckling was no longer light hearted and Jane had to adjust her mic to be heard above the male anger and mockery. “Guys, you are probably thinking you are better off avoiding our product like the plague. It can't be worth a new life as a sissy, right? Well, I hope you enjoyed your complimentary champagne as you entered.” The room fell silent apart from a single glass falling from someone's hand and smashing on the floor.

“Perhaps you'd like to hear a testimonial? Benji, come here, darling!” The curtains at the back of the stage parted and a timid blonde in a frilly wedding dress stepped through. “Before becoming my sissy wife, Benji was my lab assistant and one of the first men to try our new product. So addicted to the female thrill is dear Benji, that she agreed to marry me.” There was a growing rumble of excitement from the women in the room as their partners sat in silence next to them. Benji's madeup face was a picture of shame and acceptance as he knew what was going to happen next. “Benji is my sissy now,” Jane grinned, “just as your boyfriends and husbands will become yours – pathetic little orgasm addicts to do with as you please. Of course, it's up to you how you allow them to climax. I like to use a small but extremely powerful buttplug.” She took a keyfob from her pocket and a look of fear washed over Benji. “You will all find one in your welcome packs.”

 

My Accessory

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Home of the Governess

 Sorry for the lack of a caption last week. I have been horrendously busy with work.

Detective Finn Collier ducked under the police tape and strode into the crime scene. If seeing ten police cruisers parked outside the old mansion on the hill had seemed surreal, things were just about to go to whole new level of weird. He spotted his partner, Detective Pam Larsson, talking to a crime scene photographer and walked over. “What do we have here, Pam?” he demanded. “Kidnapping? False imprisonment?”

“Looks like it,” Detective Larsson nodded, “Fifteen vics so far. All like this...or worse.” She glanced at the two figures standing in the corridor, both in short maids' uniforms and heels, their arms bound behind their backs and ball gags stuffed deep between painted lips. “Poor guys...”

“Guys?!” Finn's eyes went wide. “You mean...”

“Men?” Pam nodded, “yes, all of them. Some have been here quite some by the looks of things. These two are some of the newer additions by all accounts. Their transformation seems to have been mostly cosmetic. Hence the bonds, I guess. Some of the guys further into the house are nowhere near as lucky. They are much further gone. Psychological conditioning, we think. Probably drug induced too.”

“Good Lord...” Detective Collier gasped. He eyed the desperate look of the blonde maid before him and immediately wished he hadn't. He tried to avert his gaze but only succeeded at staring at a pair of glossy legs in fishnets perched on open toed heels instead. He was having a hard time thinking of these poor men as lucky. “Who would do something like this?”

“We're pretty sure it's a woman,” Pam said consulting her notepad, “judging by the strapons we found in the sex dungeon. Oh right, that's a thing too. There are also hypnosis tapes we found with a woman's voice on them. Thirties or forties by the sound of her voice. Some of the officers are calling her the Governess. There's a large dressing room full of outfits like these and...others. We're trying to track down who bought them, but nothing so far.”

“Okay,” Finn scratched his head. “How about in the meantime, we get these poor guys out of them?”

“Oh, they are much too far gone for that. Some of these men have undergone serious mental conditioning. It's going to take some of them months, maybe years, of therapy to reconnect them with who they really are. Not that we even know who they are yet. Even these two,” Pam pointed at their prissy welcoming committee, “seem to be deep into hormone cycles. They need to be weaned off and will still have curves for a very long time. In the short-term, our focus needs to be on finding the Governess. Because someone who does something like this has an obsession. They aren't just going to stop because we found some of their maids...”  

ChickStarter

 

It began as any other quiet Friday morning. At least until the media trucks pulled up outside and reporters started hammering on our door. We assembled in the hall at the bottom of the stairs as we always seem to do in a crisis, that is except for my sister who hovered timidly on the upstairs landing above us. My Mom has always had a bit of a sixth sense for our guilt and lasered in on her immediately while my Dad and I looked on open-mouthed.

“Sylvie, what is going on?!” she yelled. “Why is every news crew in the county seemingly intent on breaking into our house?”

“It was just supposed to be a joke...” My sister's face was a mask of fear. She was a year older than me but I had never seen her look like such a scared little kid. “It just got out of hand, that's all...” She gulped as my parents folded their arms in unison. “I started a GoFundMe...for Gabe,” she looked at me, “I said he wanted to live as a girl and needed money for clothes and makeup. I was just being silly. I set a target of a hundred bucks but I didn't actually expect anyone to donate. Except they did... It went viral and people gave almost fifteen grand. People gave so much the local news started emailing me. They wanted to do a piece on Gabe...”

“What?!” My Mom turned crimson and looked like she was about to explode. “Are you insane?!” Another loud knock on the door cut her rant short. “Well, young lady, it looks like you going to have to go out their and explain. And then you are going to spend the rest of the day reimbursing people.” Their eyes locked and something unspoken seemed to pass between them. I practically heard a penny drop as my Mom realised Sylvie hadn't bought her new BMW with the tips from her overtime shifts after all. “Right...” her eyes darted around the room as she frantically tried to think of what to do. “Okay, I'll deal with you later,” she snapped at my sister. “Right now, just find something for your brother to wear while we figure out what to do about this mess you've created!”

So that's how I ended up standing outside my own house dressed as a girl while an army of photographers snapped pictures of me and reporters tried to shove microphones in my face. I'm pretty skinny so I fit easily into the polka dot dress Sylvie picked out for me and the wig she had from a stint in the school drama club plus a bit of makeup completed my makeover. I tried to keep my eyes glued to the ground that I wanted to swallow me up and the one glance up I did take was met with the gleeful smirk of my sister. Thankfully, my Mom fielded most of the reporters' questions. I suppose she was worried I would expose the scam. After about fifteen minutes of my humiliation, a well-dressed woman from a local network came over.

“I understand your GoFundMe raised nearly fifteen thousand dollars,” she smiled, ”my channel would be willing to match that if we can have exclusive access to your son's...errr...daughter's journey.”

Now I didn't exactly see dollar signs in my Mom's eyes, but I saw enough...enough to know that this morning wouldn't be the end of my nightmare, not by a long shot...