The Sissy Factory: Part One

Johnny gets paid, but at the cost of chastity, feminization and a firm spanking

Was he really this desperate?

Johnny stood in front of the door to what was officially called the “Negotiation and Compensation Hall” his feet locked in place, refusing to budge. He couldn’t blame them. Every man who walked willingly into what was more commonly referred to as the Sissy Factory came out some degree of feminized, and that was just the lucky ones. He nervously adjusted the collar of his button-down dress shirt, his blue tie tucked just underneath his chin. He took a deep breath and steeled himself, his shoulders upright and his chest out, and grabbed the handle of the door, pulling it open and stepping inside in one fluid motion.

What greeted him was a sterile, white waiting room, with a series of cushioned chairs along the walls. A woman, filing her nails and staring at her computer screen, occupied a receptionists desk against one wall, a single nondescript door to her right. She caught his eye as he walked in and she motioned for him to take a seat before she returned her attention to the computer screen. Johhny sat down, his eyes scanning the room before stopping on a small screen embedded into his chair. It asked for his fingerprint, and when he gave it his biography popped up along with a brief description of him. Age? 26. Sex? Male. Occupation? Unemployed. He sighed at the last one. It had been hard to find a job. The economy was tough on men, with manual labor being largely replaced by robots and other forms of automation. Self-driving cars and self-assembling furniture had largely replaced the previous gig economy, and he had been struggling to make ends meet.

A brief consent form popped up, listing the terms and conditions of the Sissy Factory. It was simple. The current ruling class was women, and they had grown tired of the male testosterone and influence that they saw in the world. But they didn’t want to forcibly castrate men. Instead, they decided to use the free market. Men would willingly sign up to have aspects of their body and mind feminized, using an elaborate game-type system, and for every “turn” they took in the Sissy Factory they would get $10,000. The men got compensated, and the women got to enjoy the increasingly feminized male population that used the Sissy Factory to help support them during tough times. The feminization was conducted via a series of high-technology machines, but it was permanent. The money, however, was not.

Just then the door to the waiting room banged open, and someone came out, making a beeline for the door. But Johnny and the other few men waiting their turn got a good look. The Sissy Factory had really done him over. Smooth shaven legs ended at the beginning of an incredibly short cheerleading skirt. Johnny could easily see the panties that covered was could only be called a perfect example of a feminine bottom. What surprised him most was the large breasts that pushed out from underneath the red and white patterns on his chest, and his mouth had been shaped into a plump set of lips. His eyebrows looked like they had been permanently arched. But his hair was still short and masculine. Tears were in his eyes as he rushed toward the exit. He had probably decided on a few too many throws of the dice and had gotten more than he had bargained for. Johnny shook his head as the man fled out the front door. I hope he had gotten his money’s worth, Johnny thought.

Johnny leafed through the available magazines on a side table next to him, nothing new than three months old. His rummaging cleared away a space and he was met with his own reflection in the nearly opaque class. His brown eyes and rumpled brown hair framed a slightly round, baby-ish face. His mother had joked that he had looked the same for years, and she had found it cute. It did make him seem younger than he was. He wasn’t particularly tall either, reaching about five feet eight inches on a good day. Just a bit less than average. Johnny blinked and pushed the magazines back into place, not wanting to think about his appearance, or how it might change.

It didn’t take long for the woman to call out Johnny’s name, and he could feel the butterflies take flight in his stomach as he walked through the waiting room door and down a long hallway. There were dozens of doors, and he could see through a small window in each what was happening. In each chamber was a man, and in each one, a different scene greeted him. In the first, a man was being fucked by a large mechanical dildo, the robotic arm pistoning in and out as the man laid back on an examination bed, his ankles locked into restraints. The dildo looked like it was at least eight inches, and Johnny could see something on the computer screen at the far end “anal” and “10” whatever that meant. But what was clear was the man was enjoying it, crying out in pleasure. In another, a man was on his back while a robotic surgical arm filled his breasts, giving the man large D cup breasts as Johnny watched. They inflated like balloons, the man was looking at his own chest in shock. And in yet another, a man was sitting quietly in a chair as another robotic arm lasered his facial hair and started applying what he could only assume was permanent makeup to the man’s increasingly feminine face.

Johnny eventually reached the room he had been assigned and pulled open the door. There was a single chair in the center of the room , and the far way was covered with just one large screen. It was waiting for him. He quietly sat down in the chair, a small screen asking him to verify his identity and to once again consent to any possible changes. He gritted his teeth and signed the consent form. His goal was simple. He needed $40,000 to get back onto his feet and go back to school to learn the newest coding language. He hoped to write the programming languages for the next generation of satellites, but that required time and money he didn’t have. But all it would cost him is four turns with the Sissy Factory, and he figured it wouldn’t be that bad.

Right?

He wiped his hands against his black dress pants, trying to dry the sweat that he now felt on his palms. He could do this. It wouldn’t be that bad. He pressed the button to begin. The screen in front of him flared to life, and he could see a series of boxes around the outside, seemingly of different feminine categories. There was a small glowing dot in the center, and a ticking cursor simply counting down from three…two…one. The ball flared to life, flying around the outside of the screen, dancing across the categories. Johnny tried to read them but it was so fast! Chastity, dress, fetishes, sexuality, body, and the list went on as the ball flew around the outside. Johnny, and most of the men, was told that it was randomized, so that no man had the same experience, and that no man who returned had an identical return trip.

The ball landing on “dress” and a series of subcategories spread out, blooming like the petals of a flower with another dazzling set of possibilities. But eventually the ball landed on “underwear” and from there “panties.” He didn’t quite realize what that meant until the description flashed on the screen in large, bold letters. SUBJECT TO NOW SOLELY WEAR PANTIES. Johnny was still absorbing the information when he saw a small green subtext appear underneath, the word “permanent” flashing. The chair slid out from under him, and he stood nervously as the computer instructed him to take off his clothes. Which he did as quickly as he could. A small drawer opened up in the wall, and a pair of high cut bikini panties lay there. He took them and put them on, thinking it really wasn’t so bad, the soft polyester feeling nice against his bare skin.

A small headset dropped from the wall as the computer stated he was to prepare for conditioning. He nervously put his head inside, his eyes pressed against a narrow visor. He was caught by surprise as a series of flashes nearly blinded him. He was aware of what was happening, it was a series of subconscious suggestions that would prevent him from going back to male underwear, and he gulped as the machine finished its work. Even though he still preferred to wear male underwear, he would never be able to bring himself to wear anything but panties ever again. He began to regret coming into the Sissy Factory when he heard a small cash register noise and he saw $10,000 get deposited into his universal account.

One down, three to go. Johnny readied himself as he sat back down into the chair.

Off the glowing ball went again, this time settling more rapidly on a section marked “fetishes” which expanded into a window that seemed to include every possible kink, including age play, body modification, exhibitionism and more. But to his chagrin it landed on “spanking.” Again a large headpiece came down from the ceiling, only this time it seemed to scan his brain before retreating. A small panel displayed on the wall, with “Spanking” marked by the word “dominant” and a number, “4.” Johnny realized it had categorized and graded his own feelings toward spanking, which is that he sometimes enjoyed spanking an attractive woman. Oh no, he thought to himself, as he saw the “dominant” field switch to “submissive” and the “4” turn into a “9.” The subconscious suggestion helmet came down again, and a series of flashes later he realized that he would rather enjoy getting spanked himself. No, not just enjoy it. He craved it. And as he realized that what looked like a padded sawhorse appeared out of the side wall, and the chair slid away. He walked over to what he now realized was a spanking bench, and he bent over it, his panties on full display. A robotic arm came out, this time wielding a small paddle, and he smiled, this time jutting out his panty clad bottom eagerly as the first stroke fell.

WHAP. WHAP. WHAP. He felt the sting began to build in his bottom, but he didn’t shy away from it. He was enjoying it too much. WHAP. WHAP. He arched his back and stuck his bottom out further, savoring every swat. Feeling the heat build in his bottom. All told the machine probably paddled him 50 times or so before the robotic arm retracted, along with the bench. Back into the wall. He was left wanting more, but with a flaming red bottom.  The chair rolled forward again, and Johnny sat down in it, this time gingerly. God the sting in his bottom felt good! He fidgeted for good measure before he saw the glowing ball reappear on the screen.

He saw another $10,000 get deposited into his universal account. Two down, two to go, he thought. But maybe it wasn’t so bad?

This time it landed on “body” and a subchart of all available body parts danced across the screen. Johnny was surprised when it landed on “bottom.” Quickly a new screen flashed up, this time clearly a scan of Johnny’s body. Only as he watched in growing horror, his bottom on the screen inflated, corresponding numbers showing what was in store for him. Eventually, and after what he thought was an eternity it stopped, showing the johnny figure on the screen with what he would have called, on a woman at least, an eye-popping bubble butt. He stood up as the chair, once again, slid away from him, and another robot arm came out, this time with a small Nano spray syringe. He felt a slight pinch, and then…nothing. No wait, that wasn’t true. The screen turned black for a second and then popped up with the feed from what were clearly cameras placed all around the room. And Johnny stood there, naked except for his new, and permanent, panties, waiting. And then he saw it. It was almost undetectable at first, but he saw in growing horror as his bottom began to grow, a little and then more and more. It grew tight against his panties, and at the same time he felt a wave of pleasure like he had never felt before. He watched, fixated, as his panties began to form a wedgie in his rapidly growing and still red asscheeks, creating a bottom that he would have fucked any day of the week. He reached back and grabbed handfuls of his bottom, rubbing and squeezing as the nanites did their work altering his body.

And then, just as quickly as it began, it was over. And a stunned Johnny, new bubble bottom in tow, sat down again on the chair. Once again, another $10,000 flashed into his bank account. He could do this, Johnny thought. This wasn’t so bad. He wondered briefly whether the new bottom was really more of a blessing, considering his new love of spanking. Surely his bottom was more spankable now? He tried to decide whether a woman or a man would be better at giving him a hard spanking, and he briefly imagined himself turned over a big strong man’s knee, getting his bottom spanked hard. Wait. Where did that come from?

He shook himself, concentrating on his last turn.

Once again he sat entranced as the glowing ball danced across the screen, flitting past the different categories. But he gasped as it landed on what he most dreaded – chastity. And instead of subcategories, he saw a series of days, weeks, months and years pop up, and be began to worry as the ball flitted between them how long he might have his cock locked away. The seconds seemed like an eternity, as Johnny  tried to follow its movements and predict when it might stop. This time, it landed on just at the year mark, and it took him a moment before he realized what it meant.

A year. In chastity.

He cried out as the chair once again slid away, and a series of robotic arms reached out to hold him in place as another pulled his panties down. His flaccid cock, which would normally grow to a proud seven inches when he was excited, was instead quickly and unceremoniously stuffed inside a plastic chastity belt and locked in place by what he saw was a time lock. Presumably it would unlock after a year in the cage. He nearly began to weep as he realized what that meant, and he struggled to keep himself together as he saw another $10,000 fly into his bank account.  Already he could feel the ache in his crotch as his now caged dick struggled against its new prison. But there was nothing he could do. The computer screen now simply read “session over.” And he could do nothing but pull his panties back on over his now incredibly plump bottom and yank up his now too tight pants. He put on the rest of his clothes and he left the room, his head down.

He barely looked around as he exited the waiting room, avoiding the stares of the men that began at his head and too quickly making its way to his now delectable bottom. He realized he was rubbing the lingering sting out of his bottom and he instead kept his hands at his sides until he reached the exit, and Johnny, feminized enough for his comfort that day, fled into the street.

Nancy watched him go. She was still working on her nails, since her job at the Sissy Factory was honestly not that demanding. She chuckled to herself and looked back at the monitor of her computer. It was keyed toward the now empty room that Johnny had occupied. She clicked exit on the series of menu choices that had allowed her to focus her feminization efforts entirely on his bottom. She was currently going through a phase where she wanted all the feminized men to have big asses, and it hadn’t been hard to find a backdoor into the system that would allow her to alter the outcomes. Men couldn’t access any of the data on what happened to them, and she doubted that any of her bosses would check. She had managed to find her dream job, and she loved it. She thought about Johnny, his ass now tightly encased in panties and his mind primed for a good, hard spanking. She licked her lips as she pulled up his profile and took a mental note of his number. She would arrange a chance encounter with him soon, and she would get the chance to paddle his derriere until he couldn’t sit for a week. Then she would teach him to pleasure her with his tongue and fingers, and she wouldn’t have to reciprocate at all. Although if he asked real nicely, she would consider introducing him to her strapon.

Nancy smiled. Johnny was going to have an interesting year.