It's a weekday night, and She is at home, so I'm dressed as a boi and only mildly stoned.  Thoughts...

She leaves again one week from tomorrow, and will be gone for nine nights.  With luck, I should have modest weed and 'shroom supplies, and no shortage of lingerie and porn.  When I imagine it, I see Bambi arrive with a howling vengeance laying waste to my masculinity with slash and burn disregard.  After the requisite marination in crossdressing, porn and weed, the weak overwhelmed sissy would simply crumple.  From the rumpled satin mayhem would arise a brash, bold Bambi with a need to make up for lost time.  The boi would simply be cast into a corner, to languish in abject humiliation; stewing in effeminate arousal.  Bambi does her nails, gets dolled up, plugs herself, installs a cage, and maybe calls a friend for some mutual sissification.  The world is your oyster when you're a submissive transvestite faggot.

The whole thing is absurdly out of control.  I can't work, can't concentrate.  My penis has turned to pasta.  My mind is an echo chamber of artifacts from myriad hypnosis files.   I crossdress when left unsupervised, often even when consciously trying to resist.  I'm high nearly always, except when I indulge to such an extent that I'm effectively incapable of getting high.  I vape, and only get dumber and more effeminate - not that I stop.  

My imagination lately runs very hot.  Does Wife need a boyfriend with a cock?  Do I want to offer domestic service for a dominant couple?  I conjure conspiracy theories about BambiSleep; many of which are quite plausible and terrifying.  I'm constantly turned on by the realization that I'm a brainwashed and hypnotized sissy.  Oh, and cock.

So, ask me again whether feminization hypnosis works.

/H   /B...dunno