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Trance: Sissy Retraining

by premiepeter


Trance: Sissy Retraining

by Premie Peter


A little copy of a session between a naughty sissy pet who forgot to continue worshipping her Mistress and Mistress retraining her sissy pet to be a good obedient little sissy slut.

Sissy has already been put into a light trance, and now we see her final programming.

Good boy.

That’s right. Don’t worry. Just focus on the sound of my voice. You know that nothing can hurt you here. We’ve done this often enough.

Just let your body slip into the same old trance for me. Let yourself go, word by word, second by second, minute by minute. Give yourself over to me, completely. That’s right. Nothing can hurt you as long as you just behave for me.

You can already feel yourself slipping deeper and deeper, can’t you? I know you can. There’s something about the idea of going into trance for me that just seems so right tonight. Your trance is calling you. We both know it.

In fact, every time I say the word TRANCE, you can feel yourself slipping a little deeper, can’t you? Every time I say that word, it pushes you deeper and deeper towards sleep, and a nice, obedient TRANCE state.

Go into your TRANCE for me. Be a good boy.

Let your mind go blank. I want it completely empty for me, so I can fill it up.


Blank mind now. Wipe your slate clean. Give me everything. TRANCE.

Good boy. Such a good boy for your Mistress.

Yes, that’s right. You haven’t called me Mistress in a while, have you? I know how much you used to enjoy it. Do you remember those silly little games we’d play, where I’d pretend to be your Mistress and you’d pretend to be my greedy slut? Weren’t they fun? I can already see your cock starting to harden for me as you remember it. Well, that’s a good sign. I’ve decided that we’re going to play those games much more often, you and I.

Starting tonight.

As soon as you go into your TRANCE.

You’re going to have to get used to thinking of me as your Mistress again, boy. Not like before, though. That was just a game... you and I playing dress-up, and then going back to our lives as soon as you shot your little load. This time it’s going to be different. This time I’m going to make sure it sticks.

But you don’t mind that, do you? Deep down I think you want me to enslave you. I think part of you recognises that this is the only real way for you to be: down on your knees, under the control of a beautiful, dominant woman. There’s no shame in it. You’re right. It is where you belong.

So why fight it?

Give in, my darling. Fall into your TRANCE for me.

You used to like calling me Mistress. I could see it in your eyes. They’d always light up whenever I mentioned that was the game I wanted to play. You really did enjoy being told what to do. Of course, that was why I had to stop it. I had to make you realise just how much you missed it, so I could make you do just about anything to get it back? And you would do pretty much anything for me now, wouldn’t you?

Good boy. You see? Mistress knows best.

That’s why you’re going to have to learn to trust and obey me, even if I say things that might seem a little bit odd to you. As long as you trust me and stay in your TRANCE, everything will work out fine.

And you do trust me... don’t you, slave?

Yes, that’s right. Slave. My slave. My own personal little fucktoy, here for my amusement. Don’t think I don’t see you getting hard at the thought. I know how much you want this, even if you’d never admit it when you were awake. Even the word gets you hard, doesn’t it?

Slave. My slave. Nothing else.

You can feel yourself letting go of everything. Why do you need to worry yourself about money, or your career, or anything else in the world? The only thing that matters is that you’re my slave. My property.

As you go deeper into your TRANCE, try to remember this. Let it fill your mind. Let it become everything you need.

That’s right. Now, you can start to shed other things too. Picture it as though you’re taking off a jacket on a hot day. Feel the incredible sense of relief as it flows through you.

Give up your personality, slave. You don’t need it. All you have to do is focus on obeying me.

That’s good. Such a good boy. Now, focus on your free will. Let it slip away from you. Doesn’t it feel better to lose your free will like this? To give it up in order to please me? Doesn’t it feel as though a tremendous burden has been lifted.

So good for me. Now, I want you to give up your name to me. It doesn’t matter what it once was. Now, it doesn’t matter. Your name is what I choose to give you. You don’t need to worry about it. You just have to accept it. You are mine to mould when you’re in this TRANCE.

So well behaved. So perfect for me. I can tell we’re going to have a lot of fun, you and I. Just let the TRANCE take over.

You can be my blank slate. All you have to do is allow yourself to fall nice and deep for me.

Let me guide you, slave. Let me turn you into the perfect little plaything. You know it will be better that way. It’s why you exist – the only reason you’re here. To be mine, completely.

Open yourself up. There’s no reason to fight it. I know what you need, and you know you belong under my control. There is nothing else for you out in the world.

And now, I want you to give up the final thing for me, slave. I want you to give up your masculinity.

Yes, that’s right. You heard me. Your masculinity. The very essence of your gender. Why bother to pretend to be a big, strong man? You’re not fooling me. I know what you are, deep down, and so do you. In this TRANCE, I can give you that. My gift to you, Mistress to adoring slave.

Good. Very good.

Now I want you to let it slip away, just an idle thought: a leaf on the breeze of your imagination. Let it shrink away over the horizon until it’s nothing but a pale blue dot in your subconscious mind. You won’t be needing it anymore.

Let it go. Let go of all the pressure to be successful. Confident. Strong. You don’t need to be in control anymore. Not here. Not with me.

Here, you can be what you’ve always wanted: my pathetic little slut. Yes, it’s OK. You don’t have to say it. I’ve always known that’s what you really wanted, right from the first time we met. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. I want you to give up control. I want you to be a completely blank slate for me to work on.

I want to turn you into my perfect little toy, and I want you to accept it willingly.

And to do that, you have to give up everything you once were. TRANCE.

That’s right. There’s a good little boy. Except you’re not a boy, are you? No, not unless I give you permission to be. You need to be content with being nothing at all. Your little dick doesn’t mean anything here, not to me. It doesn’t impress anyone.

But that’s OK. There are other ways you can win me over.

Given time, and practice.

And that’s what you want, isn’t it? To please me. To show you just how compliant you are.

So give it all up. Get rid of everything you hold dear. Let yourself give in.

Doesn’t that feel better? Don’t you feel so astonishingly free, now you don’t have any of those silly worries floating through that pretty head of yours?

I knew you would. You’re safe here, in your TRANCE. Nothing can hurt you.

Except me, of course. But as long as you behave, I won’t need


Are you going to behave for me, slut? Are you going to do as

you’re told? Are you going to be a good little girl for me?

Yes, that’s right. My good little girl. Why fight it? We both know it’s what you want – what you’ve always wanted. Your life is just so difficult, isn’t it? Wouldn’t you rather just be a pretty, mindless little slut for me?

I know you would.

But that’s the thing, you see... it’s not being a girl that makes you weak. Look at me, for example. I’m a strong, powerful woman; after all, I’ve got you wrapped around my little finger, haven’t I? Femininity doesn’t mean weakness.

But you... you were weak to start with. You just can’t cope with the pressures of life, and so you fold. You cave. You need someone to look after you.

And that’s OK. It’s OK to be pathetic around me, slut.

In fact, tell me what you are. Tell me how pathetic you are. Tell me how much you need a strong, dominant woman to keep you in your place, to guide you, to turn you into anything other than the worthless lump I see in front of me.

That wasn’t so hard, was it? Good girl.

And it’s only going to get easier the more we practice it. Eventually, you being my desperate little girl will feel like the most natural thing in the world.


Oh, I have so many plans for you, slut. I’ve always been such a fan of your body, and now things are going to get even better. All that hair will have to go, for a start. I don’t care what the boys down at the gym say when they see you all naked and shaved. Do you belong to them? Are you their property?

No, you’re not. You’re all mine. And if I say I want you hairless, that’s exactly how you’re going to be. Everything from the neck down, without exceptions.

After all, how am I supposed to dress you up if you’re all gross and hairy? That wouldn’t work at all. I need you smooth and sleek and streamlined, or else it’ll all just look ridiculous.

Yes, slave. I’m going to dress you up. What’s the fun in having you as my little dolly if I can’t play with you? I’ve already started building up quite a wardrobe for you, so you don’t need to worry about a thing. You’re going to look beautiful.

That’s right. My beautiful little girl.

But you can relax for the moment. I’m not going to rush into it. I’m going to take my time, to make sure you know exactly what’s happening to you. You can try and fight it if you like, but... well, we both know that wouldn’t do anything.

When you’re in your TRANCE, you can’t refuse me anything, can you?

No, of course not. Such a good girl.

You’ll need training, though. If I’m going to keep you as my little girl-slut, you’re going to have to learn all about the tasks women go through every day to keep themselves looking pretty. The waxing. The plucking. The preening. And that’s before we even get started on applying makeup.

That’s right, sweetie. I know how excited that thought makes you. Just think about how much more attractive you’ll look, once we get you all made up. I mean, eventually I’ll probably teach you how to be subtle with it, but at first... no, I think it will be better if I just teach you how to dress like my little slut.


You know you want it. You know you want nothing more in the world than to be a little slut for your Mistress.

Say it, pet.

Tell me just what you want to become for me.

Good girl. You know that’s what you were born to be.

So yes. I think your makeup would have to be nice and vivid. I’m seeing a thick coating of red on those lips of yours. After all, I think a cocksucker should have her lips marked out. And that’s what you are, isn’t it? Mistress’s little cocksucker.


Mistress’s little cocksucker.

But that’s for later. We have plenty of time to get to that.

I think we’d have to grow your hair out, too. You always did have such beautifully soft, feminine hair – even back when you were denying your true sissy nature. But we don’t have to worry about that now. It’ll take a few months to grow in, and then we can have it cut in a nice, slutty style: something that will always remind you that you’re my little girl. So much better than a wig, I think.

After all, what do I care what people think of you? You can try and hide it all you want, but they’ll see you for what you really are. I guess that means you’ll have no choice but to quit your job and stay with me full time. Either that, or you can try and answer all of their awkward questions. Your decision, slave.

Do you think you could stand the embarrassment of everyone who knew you as a big, strong man coming to see you as the desperate little sissy slut you’ve always been on the quiet? No, I don’t think so.

But it’s OK. I’ll find things to keep you occupied, I’m sure. You can always be my sissy maid.


Yes, that’s right. My little sissy maid. I know you’ve thought about it before. Even unconsciously... but that’s OK. You’ll be able to live out your fantasies soon enough.

Because that is your ultimate fantasy, isn’t it? Living to serve a powerful Goddess. Having no agency of your own. Existing only for the pleasure of someone you know deep down inside of you is completely in charge, completely capable of bending you to her will.

You want to be helpless. And that’s OK.

Give in for me, my little slut. Give in and show me just what you have to offer me.


You can already see yourself all dressed up for me, can’t you? Picture it in your mind, coming through the fog, becoming more clear with every passing second – so vivid, so real.

We’d start with panties, I think. I’m picturing you in a nice black pair, sheer mesh, just small enough to mean that even your little dicklet can’t quite fit when it’s fully hard – not that that matters, of course. You’d almost always have it locked into a chastity device, and then it would fit perfectly.

After all, why does a maid need a cock? I think it would be a good idea to remove as much temptation from you as possible, just in case you get any ideas. You wouldn’t want to risk rebelling against my instructions, would you?


No, I thought not.

After that, there’d be fishnet stockings, sliding effortlessly over your shaved legs. Of course they’ll be shaved, my little slut. If they weren’t, you’d look ridiculous. Who’s going to believe you’re my delicate little girl when you’ve got gross male hairs sticking out from your stockings? Don’t be stupid.

And then comes the most important part: your dress. I had it ordered especially for you – none of this cheap rubbish. I want my maid to look perfect while she serves me. Black satin, with a nice white apron. It’s a little stereotypical, perhaps, but I don’t mind that. There’s a reason why it’s shorthand for sexiness. The thought of a French maid, bending over while she dusts and polishes, just waiting to be taken from behind by a lustful employer who just can’t keep their hands to themselves...

Yes, I think that will suit you nicely.

Except of course, that’s not the whole truth, is it? I’m not your employer, and I never will be. I’m your owner. Your body belongs to me. That’s why I can dress you up like this. That’s why I can take control of your mind and make you think the things that I want you to think. That’s why I can strip you down to absolute nothingness for my amusement, why I can make you scream if I choose to, why I can take away all the things that normal people would consider to be rights: because you’re mine.

My toy. My property. My possession.


Dressing you up is my way of showing you that. It’s me staking my claim to you, showing you that you’re nothing to me but territory to be taken over and used.

That’s right, my little slut. You’re nothing – nothing at all, except what I turn you into.

Say it. Repeat it for me. Tell me what you are. Say ‘I’m nothing, Mistress.’

Good girl. You’re learning. There might be hope for you yet.

Say ‘You own me, Mistress.’ Beg me to use you. Tell me just how much you want to please me with your submission.

There we go. Wasn’t it so easy to give it up to me? And to think, when we started these sessions you used to try so hard to fight it. Now look at you – just about begging me to make you my little girl-slut.

You’re so pathetic. I love it.

And I’m sure I won’t be the only one, either. Remember what I said earlier, about your cocksucking lips? That wasn’t just a figure of speech. Your mouth is going to be getting a lot of use.

Hey... don’t fight it. Don’t try and resist. Just accept what I have planned for you. Let it wash over your body. Let it soak into your mind.


It’s going to happen, because I own you – every last inch of that slutty little body of yours.

And that means I can do with it whatever I like. TRANCE.

Oh, don’t worry... you’ll be perfectly safe. I plan on starting you out with some friends of mine. They’re people I’ve known for years, so at least you can be sure they’ll be gentle with you for your first time. And it’s not really gay if you’re dressed as a woman, is it? It’s not as though you’re a boy begging for a real man to splash his cum across your face and down your throat. You’re a girl. That makes it OK for you to want it.

You just keep telling yourself that if it helps you cope with what’s going to happen to you. If it makes you feel less dirty about the whole thing.

But you will feel dirty, I can promise you that. I’m going to make sure of it. Perhaps at first, I’ll be generous and I’ll take away your free will completely: maybe I’ll just use your TRANCE state to have you kneeling there in the middle of a room, completely frozen, your mouth open and waiting for anyone who comes in to use it like the little whore you are. Maybe I’ll turn you into a little sissy sex-doll for all my friends, so you can try and convince yourself that it’s OK  as long as you don’t actively participate.

But you will, eventually. I know you want it, my little slut. I know you want a real man to take you and treat you like the dirty girl you feel like, deep down. I know how much you want to taste a real man’s cum as it shoots across your tongue.


Don’t deny it. Even if you don’t think you want it now, soon I’ll have you begging for it. I plan on reprogramming you to the stage where you can’t live without cum – where you need a cock in your mouth to feel like yourself.

Can you imagine that, slut? Having to beg complete strangers to fuck your face just to feel like a complete human being again? And of course, you’ll have to be sincere about it, otherwise why would they bother with a dirty little sissy like you?

And no, you don’t get a say in it. In fact, you may never get a say in anything else again. By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even be able to think straight, let alone make decisions for yourself. You’re going to be driven by one singular purpose: getting as much cock as your pathetic body can handle.

Picture it, my little girl. Picture a room full of men – real men, not like you – all queuing up to be serviced by your eager little tongue. Picture them looking down at you, your body swathed in the soft silk of your maid’s outfit, your face pristinely made up as you kneel in front of them. How long do you think it will last before there are tears running down your face, your lipstick is smudged to ruin and your stockings are ripped to shreds? How long do you think you could hold off from asking to serve them? No matter how humiliating it is for you, you’ll do it. You need it.

I think we could probably have you serve fifteen or twenty men a night like this, don’t you? You could go to bed every night for the rest of your life with rug burns on your knees and a belly full of cum. And that’s without even considering your other holes.

You didn’t think I’d forgotten about that, did you, slut? Oh, a tight little pussy like yours will probably sell for quite a high price – at least, until we stretch it out beyond all recognition. Four or five men with cocks like wild bulls pounding their way through your back doors every night for months on end will see to that, I’m sure. At least

you’ll make me a decent profit before your body ends up being all used up – not that you’ll see any of it.

You exist for me. Your body is for me to use however I see fit.

Picture all that, and know that eventually that’s the only thing that will make you hard – that submitting your sissy body to me and the people I choose for you to serve will be the closest you ever come to sexual pleasure.


It’s time to wake up now, slut. Don’t worry, you won’t remember any of this – not consciously, anyway. But way down, deep inside that slutty little head of yours, my words are going to stick. They’re going to open up a whole new world for you – one where you don’t have to pretend anymore. A world where you can give yourself up to all your whorish fantasies, where you don’t have to worry about faking that you’re a strong, confident man.

A world where everyone sees you for what you really are. Won’t that be wonderful, slave? To not have to fight it anymore? To live in the way that makes my pretty little sissy comfortable in her skin?


Yes, that’s right. Let my words drip into your mind. Let them take root. I want this particular idea to solidify like concrete in your subconscious, until it’s so heavy that it can’t be shifted no matter how hard you try. I want it to become a part of you.


That’s right. Say it. Tell me you’re my cocksucking little girl. Tell me you’re my pathetic little cumslut. Say it out loud for your Mistress, and then thank me for giving you the freedom to live out your dirty little desires.

Good girl. That’s enough now.

Let the conscious memory drift away as you wake up into your new life.

Wake up for me, slave. Wake up alert and refreshed and desperate to be my personal sissy slut in five...





There’s my good girl.



-       The End -


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