itsmeganprincess: Sissy Hunters By Meganprincess I am writing this from the Grand-Hotel du Cap-Ferra
itsmeganprincess: Sissy Hunters By Meganprincess I am writing this from the Grand-Hotel du Cap-Ferrat in the south of France. A few years ago, staying at a place like this would have been a mere dream. My husband was a policeman back then. What we had wasn’t a glamorous life and we barely managed to pay our bills. Paul was usually unhappy and started to drink too much due to the stress of his job. I was frustrated and didn’t know what to do with myself. And then one day I discovered Tumblr. What a place! I stumbled upon it when I was looking for furniture, of all things. But then one click led to another and I found a whole world of freaky blogs. Blogs by exhibitionists and sadists. Blogs by swingers and strippers. But what really got my attention were all the blogs by sissies. It amused me to look at their posts. All these lonely, desperate ‘beta’ males posting captions about feminization. So many of them seeking guidance. And so many fantasies! Along the way I stumbled upon related blogs by financial dommes who clearly took advantage of sissies on a regular basis. Soliciting huge ‘tributes’ for little or nothing in return: a picture of painted toenails or feet, a fake picture of some anonymous model, a photo of soiled panties. It was very obvious to me that many of these women were just men ripping of horny sissies. And then there were all the fake mistress blogs. Pretty much operating on the same principle but at least offering advice and guidance in the feminization process. Something about all of this intrigued me. So I set up my own Tumblr blog. I had no idea what I was doing but I figured that since I was a real woman I would have an edge on all the fakers out there. Overnight I became Princess Megan, trainer of sissies. I didn’t even ask for money. I just did it for fun at first. And boy, did I learn a lot! I kept all of this a secret from Paul. It was just so entertaining and educational. Within days of setting up my blog I was swamped with messages. Pleading and begging sissies hungry for female attention and humiliation. All of them declaring how sincere they were. How they would do ANYTHING to get transformed into a girl. As I got to know these Tumblr sissies I discovered that many of them had the same exact fantasy: to give up all control to a dominant woman, be completely and irreversibly feminized, and to be whored out. Wow! I also learned how many sissies just fantasize, jerk off, and go back to their frustrating normal life as pseudo men. 99% of them are not really serious. They THINK they are when they are fantasizing and wearing a frilly pair of panties but they are not really prepared to do the work. Too lazy to practice makeup. Too scared to go to the hair salon for a pretty updo. Terrified of wives, roommates, bosses, friends, family, and coworkers. I took on a few sissies in the early days and found all of this out. A typical message would read: ‘Please, please, please Princess Megan train me to be a girl. I want to be a total slut. I will do anything you say. Please? Please?’ Usually these pathetic wimps couldn’t even complete the first simple task. A task like sending me a photo of them in panties at work. They had every excuse in the book. They couldn’t get alone to take the pic. They used a company phone that could be monitored. They didn’t wear panties to work because they were afraid someone would see them. Or, even worse, they would lie and send an old picture of them in panties. Usually with a giveaway in the background that proved that they were in their bedroom and not at work. I devised other simple tasks too, to separate the fake sissies from the serious ones. One of my favorites was to tell them to put on a pretty dress, makeup, and a wig and drive to a cheap gas station. Once there, they were to buy a gay magazine like Playgirl at the counter and ask the clerk to take a picture of them holding it up. The store in the background would confirm that the picture was legitimate. Now, keep in mind that these sissies all told me that their biggest wish was to become slutty girls. And yet the excuses kept coming: ‘Princess Megan, I live in a small town and none of the gas stations sell those magazines.’ ‘My roommates came home early, Princess Megan, and I couldn’t go out.’ And on and on. All of the excuses clearly bullshit. But those early days taught me a lot and by the time I told Paul about a new plan of mine to make us money, he was totally into it. The main thing I learned in those early months was how to effectively sissy hunt. The ideal candidate is between 20 and 30, lives alone, and has few friends or relatives. 99 out of 100 Tumblr sissies were unsuitable for my new scheme. But that 100th? Well, that was the perfect sissy, prime to be exploited by me and my husband. While I hunted, my husband worked in the background and recruited a few old friends and ‘associates’ to handle other necessary details. But more on that in a bit. My first successful sissy hunt resulted in Alyssa, a panty wearing pansy formerly known as Alan. When Alan first contacted me, he seemed just like all the rest. But he surprised me and completed task after task. By the end of three months, I had him completely feminized when not at work. Competent at doing his makeup and conditioned to be aroused by gay porn. I video chatted with him in the first weeks and made sure that the magic words ‘Alyssa’ and ‘Good girl’ triggered his sissy clitty and sunk him deeper into submission. As the weeks went by, I only let him hear my voice. Eventually he would not hear or see me at all ever again. In the meantime, I had gathered pictures of Alyssa. In miniskirts, sucking on dildos, jacking off to videos of men stroking their cocks. I gathered information too: his full name, his work address, etc. Meanwhile, Paul was busy in the neighborhood of our target. Installing cameras in Alyssa’s little apartment out of a fake utilities van. Injecting her food and drinks with female hormones. Arranging for men to start contacting her for sex. Of course, she ignored these male overtures at first. At the same time, I dropped the hammer. I exposed my new pet. I sent an anonymous file of compromising texts along with sissy photos of Alyssa to her boss and coworkers. Which worked like a charm. She was fired. Desperate and crying, the little sissy messaged me. I acted like I couldn’t help. She said she would lose her car. She said she couldn’t find another job. She said she looked like a girl now with her long hair and mysteriously growing breasts. I remained aloof. A few weeks later, she did lose her car and was getting hungry, too. Her few remaining friends shunned her as a tranny freak. Her relatives didn’t want anything to do with her. Then I proposed an idea to little sissy Alyssa: meet with a few men and pleasure them for money. Just until she could figure out something better. At least it would keep a roof over her head, right? Paul immediately began to send over horny men to use Alyssa and the cameras were turned on to finalize the blackmail. First just one or two men a night were sent to knock on her door. With a little more time (and desperation) Alyssa became accustomed to sucking and fucking dozens of men a week – including her landlord. This process also ensured that she became more and more conditioned to seek male approval. I stopped talking to her altogether and let Paul control her. By the end of the month a simple ‘good girl’ or ‘Alyssa’ from Paul on video chat was enough to tent the tiny panties of our victim. At least until she couldn’t even make it hard anymore. But, oh my, did our pathetic sissy crave male approval! A perfect little sissy bitch. Completely broken by the time we arranged for her landlord to throw her out on the street. Where one of Paul’s ‘associates’ was ready to pick her up and offer her a nice place to stay. Well, not so nice, really. A squalid cinderblock cube in the scariest part of a big city many miles away from anyone Alyssa could possibly know. This is how my first real sissy began her new life as a prostitute and I how I learned to be a successful sissy hunter. Me and Paul still collect an on-going commission for her nightly services as a working whore. But that didn’t get us into this swank hotel on the Riviera. Alyssa was just the beginning. I fine-tuned the process over the years. Now we invest more money upfront on our sissies but the return is HUGE. We do such things as blackmailing the sissies with planted evidence of drug dealing, forced breast implants, and intense brainwashing/conditioning. The finished product is no longer sent to walk the streets as a common prostitute. Now we sell our little pathetic feminized sluts to the highest bidder on the black market. I have placed some these preening frilly sissies in the ‘care’ of wealthy businessmen and crimelords in Thailand, Russia, and Germany. My favorite part, well aside from the big payday at the end, is when the sissy feels the trap being sprung on them. Right before I stop talking to them and let Paul take over. When they feel betrayed by me and send that last desperate message asking me why I am doing this to them. I always reply the same way. I send them back the original, pleading message that they sent to me when they begged to be trained: ‘Oh please Princess Megan train me to be a slut for men. I want to be permanently feminized and whored out by you. I will do ANYTHING’ Lol !!!! Waiter, more drinks, please….. The End Likes are good but reblogs are better!! -- source link