Sissification is my favorite game, and tonight I’m turning another blushing boy into my own personal doll. He’s already on his knees in front of my vanity, cheeks pink, eyes big and shiny, waiting for me to keep playing with him.

I dip the soft brush into the highlighter and sweep it across his cheekbones. “Stay still, pretty thing. Dolls don’t wiggle unless Mistress says so.” My voice is sweet and sing-song, the same one I use when I’m deep in a long phone sex session and I want the boy on the other end to melt. He swallows hard. His little cock is already twitching inside the soft pink panties I locked him into.

The lipstick is a shiny rose that makes his mouth look soft and wet. I take my time outlining and filling it in, then press a tissue between his lips with a little “mwah.” By the time I finish his lashes and add a touch of sparkle to his lids, he barely looks like the boy who crawled in here begging to be changed. He looks like my brand-new toy.

I stand him up and spin him slowly in front of the mirror. The matching bralette digs softly into his chest. The panties are already damp. I slip one finger under the waistband and tug just enough to make him squeak. “Look at you. All soft and pretty and useless for anything except being played with. This is pure sissification, baby… and you look so good like this.”

I lead him to the big mirror and clasp the little pink collar around his throat. The silver heart charm sits right in the middle and catches the light every time he breathes. “You’re going to stay just like this,” I whisper, “while I tell you what you are. My pretty, empty-headed doll. My soft little toy. The kind of thing I describe in detail during the filthiest parts of my phone sex blog nights.”

My hand slides down the front of his panties and finds him hard and leaking. I give him one slow, teasing stroke and then take my hand away. He lets out the tiniest whimper. I giggle.

“From now on, when you touch yourself, you only do it the way a doll is allowed. Soft. Slow. Always thinking about how pretty you look while you leak. And when you come, you say thank you like a good toy.” His eyes are glassy. The transformation is already soaking into him.

I lean in close, lips almost brushing his ear, and whisper the final rule: “You’re mine now. My personal doll to dress up, pose, edge, and ruin whenever I want. And the best part? You’re going to love every second of it.”