Layla’s Sissy Salon

Michelle's new lesson and day at the salon

This topic contains 6 replies, has 2 voices, and was last updated by  Michelle Bubbles 1 week ago.

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     Michelle Bubbles 

    I gulp as I return to this place of horrors, Layla’s salon. I was forced to come back for another ‘lesson’ with the crazy, brainwashed (I assume. Who would be happy with this fate?!) sissy running the joint. I sigh as I walk in, looking for her office. Today at least I was not ordered any special wear too, and while I know that usually means I will be given something far worse later down the line, at least when I first go out I can take advantage of it and dress as casually as possible.


    So I did, with a beige off-the-shoulders blouse and jeans shorts, plus a pair of beige chunky heels, easier to walk in. For underwear only my belt, and a strapless bra covering my B-cups. No jewelery (Except on my tongue and belly button… can’t remove those piercings) and as little make up as I can wear without triggering the anxiety Layla herself put in my brain… God I hate having to look at least this good.



    I finally find the office of the witch… dreading what comes next, as once again the details of this ‘lesson’ have been hidden from me, I knock on the door.


    I sit at my desk relaxed as the sun hangs in the sky. I hear a delicate knock against my door as a beautiful sissy walks through the door.

    I raise a beautifully arched eyebrow over my thin black glasses and glance up.

    ”Michelle darling! Omg, it’s been too long. You look amazing! You have a great sense of style! I wonder where you got it?” I say with a flirty wink.

    ”So what do I owe this pleasure to? Are you back on a special assignment darling?”

    I reach forward and grab Michelle’s shoulder. Gently caressing her exposed skin I look lovingly into her eyes awaiting her reply.

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     Michelle Bubbles 

    I simply raise an eyebrow with a deadpan stare as she winks about her comment on my style. Being given an hypnotic suggestion to feel like garbage whenever you are not perfectly feminine in appearance will do that to people. Not that I would have much of a choice in any case, if I were caught looking the least bit boyish outside I would remember the punishment for months. I cross my arms as she ignores personal space as usual, and I look away while she asks what I am here for. I’m sure she knows, probably just wants to hear it from me. I sigh, still looking to my left and refusing to look her in the eye.


    “Well, like last time, I have no idea and I was told you’d know everything. I’m assuming another shitty make-up lesson? Hopefully without fucking with my mind this time?”


    There is some benefit to a lesson with another sissy, I don’t have to be quite as submissive and deferential as when a dominant is teaching me… well, unless she has been given a remote to my belt again? But I don’t see it around, and if I keep my wits about me I probably can balance some flippancy and fowl language, just to spite her a bit, without getting punished too harshly. I just have to stay alert and think about what I say…


    …oh God that reminds me: she doesn’t know my trigger words, hopefully!


    “Wow, you haven’t lost your spunk!” I say with my devilish grin. Admiring my delicate sissy I stare at her features from top to bottom and tap my fingernails against my head.

    ”It’s been a moment since you’ve been here so I take it you haven’t forgot your training already. Hmm.. we better find out. Bubbles goes POP!”

    I watch in pleasure as Michelle’s mind seems to go blank. She seems to present a cognitive delay as if her brain has malfunctioned for a moment. I eagerly await for her sense to snap back to show me her mental state of sissyhood.

     Michelle Bubbles 

    The moment she says those words, I have just a fraction of a second to inhale sharply before it hits me. The sensation regretfully becoming familiar, it’s as if a cork has been unplugged at the back of my skull, and all my brains pour out. I feel light headed and dizzy as all my mental processes slow to a crawl, feeling like pink cotton candy jams the gears in my head, all kinds of different visual metaphors for deumbing down clogging my brain and compounding on each other. For a few seconds, I just stare straight ahead, my mouth slightly open, as it all happens.





    Finally, I blink my eyes a few times and come back to reality, much dumber than before. Well, I know I am and I know tomorrow I will remember today and think I have been an absolute idiot, but the most insidious thing about this trigger is that now I feel fine and normal. I don’t even realize that I am more vulnerable and easy to trick, and in some ways that is even worse than just being an idiot.


    “Y-you meanie! Who told you those words?! This doesn’t change anything you know, I still don’t want to do anything in here!”


    I say, frowning, throwing my hands down and stomping my foot. Then I huff, look away again and cross my arms. Then a thought crosses my mind… she doesn’t have the remote of the belt too right? I should probably try to find out… but maybe without letting her know I care? I think if she knows I’m scared of it, she might use it against me… I think. Well, better safe than sorry…


    “Uhm, you don’t have the remote to the belt tho, right? Not that I care or anything, I’m jus like, curious y’know…”




    “Wow darling, I must admit you truly are a dumb bimbo.”

    With a devious smile I turn and reach into a cabinet nearby. I reach within and remove the remote for her device seated between her legs.

    ”Either you’re really that dumb or you just want to play with me again. Which one is it?” I say with a wink.

    Without a pause I grab the device and crank it to level 5 immediately blasting Michelle with an unexpected overpowering level of pleasure.

    She falls to her knees squirming without uttering a single word. I then dial the device back to level 1 so she may speak without losing her mind yet again.

     Michelle Bubbles 

    I look back at her, pouting.


    “I’m not a bimbo! I’m super smart… well, usually… when you say those words it doesn’t count!”


    I whine, not understanding what she is referring to or what she is reaching into a cabinet for. Only when she shows me, my eyes go wide and my arms unfold, as I take a step back, while she asks me if I am dumb or want to play with her. Without giving me time to answer, she presses the buttons, and my world explodes into a pink wave of arousal.


    I immediately fall to my knees, my already slowed brain swamped by the sensation, and I hear a slut let out a long, lustful, drawn out moan. I barely realize it’s me, as my hands shoot up and start massaging my breasts through the shirt, squeezing the flesh and twisting the nipples, as I squirm helplessly, controlled by lust.





    As soon as it started, it ends, thankfully. I gasp, catching my breath as the pleasure dials down to a more manageable level, even if it is still definitely present and noticeable, I can manage to think of something else too now. Still on my knees, I reluctantly let go of my small boobs, and look up pleadingly to Layla.


    “P-please… don’t… don’t do that again… uhm, I-I’m not dumb, I swear…”


    I whimper, using all my willpower to beg her not to do it again instead of, well… begging her to do it again. It feels so good! Too good! I know even in my dumbed down state that I should not let her turn me into a lust-controlled sex puppet… again!

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