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Sissy Shades Of Grey	By : KinksterTom Category: A through F > Fifty Shades Trilogy Views: 6114 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Fifty Shades Of Grey belongs to E. L. James. This is a work of non-profit non-canon fanfiction

Chapter List
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Christina Grey is led deeper into the world of being a sissy.This story is very non-con. It diverts completely from the original source material. Christian is very OOC (a real bastard) to justify his transformation. If you no likey forced feminization or this take on the books, no readey ;)

Christian whimpered as he walked up and down the room. Hours of practicing walking in such high heels had caused an agonizing pain in his calves and feet. But he couldn't stop.
Anastasia has ordered him to stay in this hotel room and practice until he could sashay effortlessly in the heels.
No, not ordered.
She didn't have to order him to do anything. Thanks to the subliminal hypnotic messages she had worked into their conversations over the last

few months, he was her slave, body and soul.
All she'd needed to do was smile at him and suggest he spend the day getting used to his new footwear. To add insult to injury, she'd left him alone to do it. He tried his hardest to resist her suggestion but it was useless.
His muscles wouldn't obey him. Against his will, he'd reached for the ridiculously high-heeled sandals she had left him. He watched his fingers buckle the straps around his ankles and then he took his first step.
He hadn't stopped strutting up and down the hotel room for the last three hours. His back, ass and legs were on fire but he couldn't stop.
"Bitch, bitch, bitch," Christian muttered with each step, gritting his teeth.
Oh, he'd get even with her alright. These subliminal suggestions would wear off soon - they had to! - and then he'd teach her what it meant to be a woman. She'd be begging for mercy by the time he was done.
Caught up in his thoughts, Christian tripped and stumbled, falling face-first onto the hotel carpet.
"Whore!" he growled.
"That's right. You are," came a cool voice. And he glanced up to see Anastasia standing over him, an amused smile on her lips.
"Fuck you!" he yelled, all composure gone.
"You know, I could make you want this. That's how powerful my hold on you is," she said, watching his eyes widen in horror, "Oh yes, I could make you believe you truly hate being a man. But it's so much more fun to let you keep your mind and to break you slowly. After all, that's what you were planning to do to me."
"You want to turn me in a woman?" he said, making the word "woman" sound like a filthy insult.
"No," she smiled, "you don't deserve to be a woman. And you're not much of a man. A real man doesn't treat his girlfriend like a thing. A real Dom is kind and responsible and sees his sub as a person. You're an abuser and you're going to get a taste of your own medicine. Follow me."
His defiance drained away at the prospect of more walking. Whimpering, his legs like jelly, he sashayed after her. She made him stand in front

of the bathroom mirror. He was relieved that apart from his stockings and heels, he remained as masculine as ever.
"Alright, slut," she purred, "you're going to learn the names of your body parts. Touch your chest."
Although he tried to fight it, his hand rose up to cup his pecs.
"That's good. Those are your sissy titties. From now on, that's what you'll call them all the time. You don't have a choice. What are those?"
Christian tried to say they were his pecs but instead the words "my sissy titties" slipped out of his mouth.
"You bitch-" he snarled. In the past, his anger had been enough to send powerful men and women scuttling to safety. But Anastasia just laughed, a low pleasant sound.
"Oh dear, such potty mouth. If you're going to be rude, then for now, you can't talk unless I ask you a question." Immediately his lips sealed themselves shut.
"Touch that dirty little thing between your legs," she ordered, "that's it." Against his will, Christian's hand slipped to his cock. To his intense embarrassment, it twitched at his touch.
"Hmm, I think someone likes being told what to do. Could it be, Christiana, that you always wanted to be the slave?"
His mind was a riot of confusion. She was wrong of course. Only women were slaves and even in heels, he was still a man. Men were dominant. Men

held the leash, they didn't wear it. His physical reaction, the growing boner twitching under his palm, was simply a reaction to the stress.
"What is that...thing you're touching?"
It was a relief to talk.
"What do you think, you bitch?" he snapped, "it's my cock."
He wanted to say more - to tell her all the things he'd do her when he broke free of her control - but the words stuck in his throat. It seemed he was truly bound by her order to stay silent unless asked a question.
"Stupid slut," said Anastasia, "you don't have a cock. A cock can satisfy a women. A cock is big, beautiful and powerful. Even with a boner, that shriveled little worm is tiny. No, it's not a cock. It's a sissy clitty."
Christian struggled to respond to her humiliating words, to defend his manhood. He could see his reflection in the mirror grow red-cheeked and flustered but not a word escaped his lips.
"That's what you'll call it from now on. Your sissy clitty. What do you call it?"
"My coc- sissy clitty" Again, he struggled to form the words "my cock" but instead, found himself saying "sissy clitty."
"Well, the slut can learn. Now I want you to try milk that sissy clitty. Keep tugging at it and see if we can get any sissy cream. I won't tell

you to cum and I won't tell you this is turning you on. No, your body's reactions will be the same as if you were still in control of your arousal. Now, start."
Christian hated her as his hand begun to fumble and tug his co - his sissy clitty - stroking it to fullness. Here he was, little more than a

slave, being forced to jack off in front of a mirror while wearing only high heels and stockings.
But after a few seconds, his hand fell into a comforting rhythm. He hated to admit it but it was...exciting, being forced to do this. And it was also a relief that his co - his sissy clitty - still got hard. She could make him rename his body parts but she couldn't take away what made him a man.
"What are you stroking, Christina?" she asked him. Christian felt his hand pause at her question.
"No, I didn't say stop. Keep tugging that tiny clit. But answer me at the same time. What are you stroking?"
"I - oh - it's my sissy clitty," he heard himself say, his hand working more furiously. A hot blush bloomed in his cheeks. His hand kept jerking away like a machine, sending quivers of pleasure through him.
"Again, slut."
"It's my sissy clitty," he moaned. How he hated the words that rose to his lips but he had no choice but to say them. He could feel the orgasm building inside him.
"Again."
"My sissy clitty, my sissy clitty!" Pre-cum coated his fingers; he was so close.
"That's right. You don't have a cock. Only real men have cocks. What do you have, Christina?"
"I have a sissy clitty - I don't have a cock - just a sissy clitty, a sissy clitty a sissy - ooooh," he squealed as cum - sissy cream - gushed over his hand.
His orgasm was so intense that he felt his legs give way. He swayed in his heels and would have collapsed if Anastasia hadn't brought him round with a harsh slap. Even the pain couldn't dim the afterglow.
"You loved it. God, you are nothing but a little sissy after all."
To his horror, Christian felt tears prick his eyes. Now that the pleasure had faded, he felt throughly humiliated.
"Aw, don't cry, little sissy," Anastasia cooed, "remember, sometimes things have to get worse before they can get better. Tomorrow we'll start your real training."
To Be Continued.....
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Sissy Shades Of Grey