Sissy - cuck

You’re on Your Way, Boy is the second of my five collections of stories involving male emasculation, female domination, and the kinkiest events that I could invent.

Paperback copies make wonderful gifts for your friends and family members. The Amazon paperback price is about $11.95 with some going for less, while Kindle copies sell for $2.99.

Panty Surprise

Albert and I’d agreed to drive an acquaintance’s car to Seattle, and we set forth in good spirits. Our spirits remained high until a state trooper pulled us over just south of Olympia. It was the work of seconds for the dope sniffing dog to alert the trooper with some occult canine signal. We were detained, and finally arrested as drug smugglers.

“He called us drug smugglers, Chris,” Albert said in between blubbering and demanding his phone call.

“Call a lawyer,” I said. “Don’t call your mother, and don’t call that asshole Jim Lambert.”

“But Jim got us into this mess.”

“That’s what I’m saying. Jim made sure that if something went wrong, there’d be two suckers there to take the fall for him.”

We tried explaining to the police that we were a couple of patsies, but Jim Lambert had reported his car stolen the moment he heard we’d been arrested. During our trial, Judge Haight called us a “scourge upon the Earth” and sentenced us both to the Elk Mountain Correction Institution.

We rode the bus to the prison, Albert crying most of the way. Two thuggish muggers rode with us, and they took delight in taunting Albert further. They described in glorious detail how he’d be used by his fellow prisoners, and they both offered to stretch his asshole for him so the daily gangbangs would be more pleasant.

I was surprised to learn that the corrections officers were all female. The four of us were marched directly to the warden’s office, who also turned out to be a woman. “Strip off those jailhouse coveralls,” Officer Pflug ordered.

One of the toughs began to taunt her, but he didn’t get far. “You want to see me naked, bitch…aieeee!” The last was the shriek he emitted when she beamed him with a hand held device.

“Strip naked now.”

I hastily doffed my clothing. Truth to tell, I was glad to see the orange coveralls and jockey briefs go by the wayside. When we were buck naked, Officers Pflug and Torchia ran scanners over our bodies. “Warden Imatani, this joker’s carrying contraband up his ass.”

“Take him into the shower room and dig it out. No need to be gentle.” The guards hauled the thug into a side room, and we could hear his shrieks through the door.

Warden Imatani fixed Albert, me, and the thug who’d been shocked with a contemptuous eye. “We have ways of dealing with you misfits.” The ice in her voice shrank my cock and shriveled my balls.

The guards emerged with the contraband carrying thug in tow. He looked considerably the worse for wear, and he was walking as if his asshole hurt. Officer Torchia threw two nasty looking switchblade knives into a bin. “His ass is clean now.”

“All right. Bring out the panty surprises.”

The crimson box had a hole in the top big enough to accommodate a human hand. Officer Pflug nudged Albert. “Reach in and claim your panties.”

Albert’s eyes rolled fearfully as he reached into the box and pulled out a pair of flimsy blue panties. “Don’t just stand there, moron,” Warden Imatani said. “Put them on.”

Albert pulled up the panties, which fit like skin. They pulled up his butt crack and tightened around his cock and balls. The guards then gave him a pair of carpet slippers. “This is it?” Albert asked. “Don’t I get trousers? A shirt?”

“No, you’ll wear slippers and your panty surprise, just like every other inmate.” The warden turned to the thug who’d been carrying contraband. “You’re next.”

He reached in for his panties, which were just as revealing as Albert’s. His spirit broken, the thug pulled them on without making a fuss. I was the last to be chosen, perhaps because I’d been the quietest. I pulled out a pair of brilliant yellow panties and slipped them on. They tingled. I pushed my feet into the carpet slippers. Warm sensations radiated up the crack of my ass, and I felt terribly strange.

The guards escorted us down long corridors and up flights of iron stairs. We passed other prisoners, each one dressed the same as we. Unlike the scenes in prison movies, there were no howls, taunts, or catcalls. The prisoners were oddly subdued. A couple nodded to us in a spirit of commiseration, which gave me an awful sense of foreboding. Red flags were flapping up and down. I had a premonition that something was horribly wrong in this place.

The cell lights cast a weak glow. Officer Torchia explained the routine. “We dim the lights a half hour before total lights out. You got fifteen minutes to negotiate with your cellmates for a bunk.”

I’d assumed that Albert and I would share a cell, but the guards had other ideas. They dropped me off at a cell that already housed three inmates. Then they led a sniveling Albert and the two cowed thugs down the corridor.

I felt naked and vulnerable in my panties, but I soon saw that my three cellmates were dressed as I, with slight differences in color and style. They looked me up and down and I them. “You’re new here?”

“I just arrived.”

The three introduced themselves as Jeff, Howie, and Frank. “What brings you here, Chris?” The way he asked it sounded as if I’d just dropped in for a visit.

“They accused me of transporting narcotics, but I never did it.”

Jeff nodded. “They claimed to get me for armed robbery, but I never did it.”

Howie was accused of operating a methamphetamine laboratory in his apartment kitchen, but he also pretended innocence. Only Frank admitted to having committed the crime.

“I shot my stepfather in the head,” he said coolly. “Killed the fucker.”

I was taken aback. Sharing a cell with a cold-blooded killer was not my idea of a good time.

“Why?”

“Why’d I kill him?”

“Yeah.”

“He kept beating the shit out of my mother. He put her in the hospital twice. He broke her jaw and a bunch of ribs. He held her hand down on the stove burner. So the last time he came home drunk and mean, I took his service pistol and shot him right through the eye.”

“You’d think the cops would’ve given you a medal and put up a statue of you,” I said. “That makes you a hero, not a murderer.”

“My stepfather was a cop.”

“Shit!”

The cell had two bunk beds. “Which one’s mine, Frank?”

“Take the top one there.”

“Prison isn’t what I expected. What’s up with these goddamn panties?”

“We don’t talk about them,” Howie said.

“Some of the guys do,” Frank said. “I think we should talk.”

“Not now, Frank. There’re rules. Besides Chris just got here, so the guards will be checking our cell more often. Let it lay for tonight anyway.”

None of my cellmates’ remarks diminished my apprehension. With ominous presentiment, I climbed into the top bunk. A few minutes later the lights went out, except for dim lighting along the corridor so the guards could patrol.

I was exhausted, and the snores of my cellmates soon lulled me asleep. I awoke once during the night and pissed in our communal toilet. Then I slept until the lights switched on in the morning. We ate breakfast the dining hall. Breakfast was pretty good considering the ambiance: scrambled eggs, sausage, and flapjacks.

However, I was getting my first look at the prisoners who’d been incarcerated for more than a week, and their appearance ruined my appetite. The prisoners had little or nothing left of their manhood. Most had tiny dicks that made scarcely a wrinkle in their panties, and some appeared to be pussified. But what they lacked in frontal development, they made up for in the rear. Most of the guys had big round rumps.

I turned to Frank. “Am I seeing those things we don’t talk about?”

“Yeah. I’ve been here two weeks, and Howie and Jeff came after me, so none of us really knows the score.” He lowered his voice. “Except that I know my balls are getting smaller and my ass is growing.”

After breakfast, we hit the showers. There I saw guys in all conditions. Some really did appear to have twats, though most had tiny dicks and no balls. Three of the guys were developing small boobs. A few looked at my cock and snickered.

“I see that you just arrived,” one said, staring openly at my cock. His own cock was smaller than a peanut and his balls were the size of raisins. Was that my fate?

“Are you saying I’m going to look different after I’ve been here a while?”

“Oh, hell, yeah.” He turned away abruptly, and the shower got quieter. Officer Pflug was standing just outside the shower and staring with disdainful eyes.

After I dried, I was given a clean pair of brilliant yellow panties. An hour later, I found the guy from the shower in the weight room. His name was Bruce Wittig, and he’d been convicted of stealing a car. “I never did it,” he assured me. I could see that my protestations of innocence were frivolous behind bars.

“How long have you been here, Bruce?”

“Three months.”

“What did your cock and balls look like when you arrived?”

Bruce laughed grimly. “You’re catching on fast, Chris. Most guys take a couple of weeks before they figure out that they’re getting a permanent emasculation.”

“Permanent emasculation?”

“Yeah. Your cock is shrinking away, but your balls will go first. Kiss your manhood goodbye. While your cock shrinks, your ass swells until you don’t look like a guy anymore.”

All my fears, my forebodings, my premonitions, and my harbingers of doom were being answered—in the worst possible way. “So that’s the panty surprise.”

“Hey, Brick, come here a second.” He beckoned to a guy who looked like a big-assed girl from the rear. Brick was wearing black panties to cover his femulated ass, but I could clearly see a cameltoe.

“Show Chris what you’ve got.”

Brick grimaced and looked around apprehensively. “We’re not supposed…”

“I don’t have to see, Brick,” I protested. “I get the picture.”

Nevertheless, I was condemned to see. No guards were in sight, so Brick pulled down his panties. He had a hairless pussy instead of manly equipment.

“Tell Chris how long you’ve been wearing your panty surprise.”

Uneasy and fearful, Brick looked around again. “We’re not supposed to talk about them.”

“We know what we’re not supposed to do, Brick. Fuck supposed to.”

“Yeah, fuck it!” He sucked down a pint of jailhouse air. “I’ve been here two years. We used to wear regular prison clothes. Then about eight months ago, all the male guards disappeared and the women took over. Warden Imatani arrived one day and the panty surprises started two days later.”

“How long until you were…uh…like that?” I pointed toward his crotch. “Before you got the end result?”

“End result, my ass. I’m still changing. The panty surprise just goes on and on,” Brick said. “Besides, it’s different for each guy. That’s the fuckin’ surprise.”

“Judge Haight sentenced me to ten years,” I said. I couldn’t imagine what Albert and I’d look like when we were finally released. “I’d like to stuff Judge Haight’s butt into a panty surprise. And that goes double for an asshole named Jim Lambert.” I told them how I’d been set up.

“I was set up too,” Brick said. “I didn’t do a fucking thing, but they sent me here.”

I was assigned to work in the prisoner call center. I wished that I could call for help, but the call center was heavily monitored, usually by the scary Officer Pflug. Besides, who on the outside would believe the complaints of a convict?

Two weeks passed before I ran into Albert. It turned out that he’d been laboring in the prison garden. “How are you coping?”

He shrugged. “It’s not what I expected. No beatings. Nobody’s getting shanked. No shower rape scenes.”

“Not many guys in here have enough dick to stick it into anything.”

“Yeah.” He bit his lip. “Fuck, Chris, I’ve lost three inches. My balls are gone. And look at my ass.”

Albert’s butt was getting voluptuous. Mine had swelled too. My dick had shrunk a little, but my balls were disappearing fast. I’d also gotten smooth, having shed my body hair.

“I don’t have to shave anymore.”

At the end of my third year in the Elk Mountain Correction Institution, I came before the parole board. For reasons comprehensible only to the board, Albert wouldn’t have a hearing for another three months. I prepared my answers in advance, but I was in for another surprise. I never got to utter a word.

The three women on the parole board looked tougher than stainless steel spikes, and they were just as friendly. Officer Pflug made me strip off my panties, and when the parole board ordered me to face the opposing wall and touch the floor with my palms, I complied.

“Full pussification of the groin and mega-femulation of the buttocks,” Officer Pflug affirmed. “Chris is completely rehabilitated”

The members of the parole board agreed, so I was released two days later. I was free. I wasn’t a free man, but I was free. The guards issued me civilian clothing consisting of a shirt, thong underwear, purple tights, socks, and elf boots. I rode the prison bus back to Olympia where I encountered a group of prisoners being transported to the Elk Mountain Correction Institution. Among them were Judge Haight, who’d been caught up in a complex bribery scheme, and even more to my delight, Jim Lambert, who as it turned out had paid off the judge in exchange for incarcerating Albert and me. I gave them a derisive, toothy grin, but neither man recognized me.

My new job was already arranged. The Radical Gynocracy had purchased a cruise ship, and they sold vacation packages to unsuspecting men of all nations. Once on the high seas, the female officers and we, their sissified stooges, could shrink the packages of their captive males at will. There was no escape. I ended up as the cruise director, arranging games with Orgasmate and Anadict, phallimination contests, scavenger hunts for panty surprises, glutenhanced pool parties, minibation orgies, and other group activities for men with vanishing genitals and femulating rumps.