degradedsissy1: DESOLATION AND ANNIHILATION - A Sissy’s Comfort Zone There comes a time, when a siss
degradedsissy1: DESOLATION AND ANNIHILATION - A Sissy’s Comfort Zone There comes a time, when a sissy is not busy with menial chores like washing, ironing, cleaning, cooking, shopping, and when it is not being used for sexual satisfaction, that it allows itself a little time for some quiet reflection. As it lies in its stockings and high heels and and frilly petticoats it has time to reflect on how it all came to this. The last remnant physical manifestation of its male biology has been imprisoned in steel chastity for a decade - maybe longer. It is but an impotent and redundant relic of a manhood never realised. It hasn’t worn men’s clothes in years. As if they were ever anything other than a disguise to hide the pantied, stocking wearing sissy underneath, in any case. It sleeps in a flimsy pink chiffon nightgown and stockings. Every morning, after its shower, it’s slips into a fresh pair of stockings and fastens them to a garter belt before slipping frilly panties up its legs and lacing itself into its corset and fastening its bra around its hairless chest. Then it paints its face femininely with makeup and sprays itself with a sweet feminine perfume, before getting into its frilly petticoats and satin maids dress to start its day. It has an MBA and was successful as an up and coming executive in a major company but always feared failure and it always felt inadequate. While it enjoyed the sense of achievement it derived from each challenge met and project satisfactorily delivered, it always felt overwhelmed by the knowledge that there would always be another challenge and another chance to fail, as it expected it eventually would. It quietly yearned for younger days in the reassuring arms of its mother when it didn’t need to make any hard choices and didn’t need to fear failure. Now as is performs its chores each day, the biggest decision it needs to make is how much detergent to place in the washing machine. The sense of challenge and satisfaction is no longer there, nor is the dread of failure. It has a prestigious house and a are to go with it; an attractive wife; standing in its community and amongst its friends. But it always dreaded its obsession with women’s clothing and effeminacy and its growing submissiveness being exposed. It feared the way these urges were getting stronger and stronger and the risks it was taking to satisfy them, more extreme. It was filled with horror thinking of the shame and humiliation it would endure, if it’s sissy perversions were ever exposed, yet it also sensed a strange arousal form the though as it would relieve itself in its panties. Now it no longer needs to fear the humiliation of exposure. To the neighbours, the people down at the shopping centre it is just that “faggot” or that “pansy” who lives down the street. To its former friends and colleagues it is an object of ridicule for humorous discussion at social occasions. To its family and its former wife it is a source if extreme embarrassment. It no longer needs to fear total humiliation. It has arrived. It realises it can never go back to being a man. It realises it will never again be taken seriously. It will forever be an object of derision, pity and ridicule. It realises it will never again have a challenging job or the satisfaction of succeeding or excelling at a challenging task. Nor will it ever again have that oppressive fear of failure. It realises it will never again be able to present as a man and enjoy some of those manly pleasures like bonding with the boys at the pub it the football. Nor will it ever again have to feign a manliness that does not come naturally. Men and women rise to their level of competence. Sissies degenerate to the level of their wretchedness. As it fingers the steel plate which imprisons its failed and redundant relic of manhood, it revels in its femininity; it wallows in its demise. It is a state of devastation, yet it also feels paradoxically comfortable. -- source link