He Is Now A Sissy Forever

The sun hung low in the sky, painting the horizon in hues of orange and pink as a young man knelt before the altar, his body trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation. The rustling of robes and the deep resonating hum of religious chants filled the ancient stone chamber, sending shivers down his spine.

This was the moment he had both longed for and dreaded, the ritual that would change his life forever. He had surrendered his will, his very identity, to a greater purpose. The transformation had already begun, the hormones coursing through his body, softening his features and reshaping his form.

As the chants reached a fevered pitch, a figure emerged from the shadows, her silhouette a mixture of feminine curves and powerful muscles, barely concealed by flowing robes. She was the Priestess, the Mistress of the Cult of the Holy Sissy. And she had chosen him.

With a languid grace, she approached, her eyes glinting in the flickering candlelight. She circled him, examining her prize like a cat toying with a mouse. “Rise,” she commanded, her voice a hypnotic purr.

He struggled to his feet, his legs wobbly, his balance off from the changes in his body. The Priestess traced a finger along his jawline, tilting his face up to meet hers. “You are mine now, little sissy. Utterly and completely mine.”

A shudder of terror and excitement raced through him. What would she do to him? How far would she take this? The questions swirled in his mind, but he knew the time for doubts was long past.

The Priestess smiled, a predatory curve of her luscious lips. “It’s time for your final consecration. Come, my sweet little sissy.” Her grip on his arm was firm as she led him deeper into the chamber, past the rows of kneeling figures in white robes, chanting and swaying to the rhythm of the ancient words.

She pulled him into a small, dimly lit room. A large table dominated the space, its oiled wood surface glistening in the candlelight. She pushed him down onto it, his back against the cool, hard surface, his legs dangling over the edge. The Priestess stood between his thighs, her hands caressing his skin through the thin fabric of his clothes.

“Strip,” she ordered, her voice leaving no room for argument. “Bare yourself to me, little sissy. Let me see the body that will serve me.”

Fumbling fingers made quick work of the fastenings, and the clothing slid away like cobwebs in a breeze. He shivered under her intense gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable. But also a thrill of excitement, of surrender to her power, coursed through his veins.

The Priestess examined his body with a critical eye, her hands roaming over every curve and hollow. “Exquisite,” she purred. “I have great plans for you, my darling.” Her fingers dipped between his legs, teasing over the growing bulge, sending sparks of need jolting through him.

She picked up a bottle and a brush, dipping the bristles into the viscous red liquid inside. “Every sissy must be marked with the sacred stain.” With a deliberate slowness, she drew the brush across his chest and down his stomach, the color stark against his pale skin. She paused at his groin, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she traced the intricate symbol across his semi-erect cock.

Powerful desire surged through him as she worked, her touch stoking hidden fires within his flesh. His hands grasped the edges of the table, knuckles white from the intensity of his need. Low, needy whimpers escaped his lips as she explored his body.

But she was not yet done. She picked up a long, thin dagger with a curved blade. Hackles rose as she pressed it against the skin of his inner thigh, close to where his femoral artery throbbed. The cool touch of the blade made him shiver, his breath coming in short, sharp pants.

“Your blood is mine,” she declared, her voice heavy with ritual. “Shed for me, given freely.” With exquisite slowness, she drew the blade across his flesh, leaving a thin red line as a matching scar to the one she bore on her own thigh.

He gasped as the pain scissored through him, a finger spear of agony that transmuted into a spike of pure lust. His cock hardened to full erection, his body primed and ready, begging for her touch.

The Priestess smiled as she watched his response, savoring the sight of his submission, of his fluids beading from the tip of his cock. She trailed a finger through the blood, then brought it to her lips, tasting him with a moan of delight.

She picked up a large, clear glass bottle, the interior already dark with a liquid that smelled of musk and earth. Slowly, deliberately, she began to fill it with his leaking fluids, each drop a testament to his arousal.

“Your essence, my sweet sissy, will be made into a sacred elixir. It will be consumed by the sisters, and through it, they will be tied to you.” She smiled as his eyes widened in shock and hunger. “Every drop of your pleasure, every spasm of your climax, will be known to all of us. Your orgasms will be ours to command.”

He shuddered at her words, feeling a strange sense of powerless surrender. To be known so intimately, to be fully claimed by this woman and her coven… it was both terrifying and thrilling. He knew there would be no going back.

She finished the collection, capping the bottle with a dark red wax seal. “Your consecration is complete, darling. You are now a part of the eternal circle of the Sissies. Your purpose is to serve, to pleasure, and to bring joy to your Mistress and the sisters of the cult.”

She helped him off the table, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Welcome home, my sweet one,” she whispered against his mouth.

As she led him out of the room, he knew his life had irrevocably changed. He had found his place, his purpose, and his pleasure. He was a Sissy now, and forever would be. And he couldn’t wait to see what came next.

The story could continue with him undergoing various rituals and training to fully embrace his new identity and Role as a Temple sissy, pleasuring the priestesses and sisters, learning to accept and relish his submissiveness, until he is accepted, body and soul, as a full member of the cult.