Well, good morning.  08:35.  Friday.

Things are pretty much proceeding to plan.  The wife left at 07:20, and I consumed half a brownie at precisely 07:30.  That's 150 mg THC.  What is this thing that I have for precision?  

It's over one hour later and I'm not nearly as stoned as I was yesterday on the same dosage.  Brownies are funny that way..."stir the damned batter, would'ya?!"  Or it could be me.  It doesn't take long to develop some tolerance.  I think.  I might have made that up.  Another big difference, yesterday I had a big breakfast, whereas today I had nothing.  Hmmm...

I'm sipping on a Cola that's infused with 125 mg THC, and I squirted about another 15 mg on top with an eye dropper just for good measure.  That ought to get my attention.

 Upon first buzz, my sissy meter went off, and within minutes I was being pulled by the twin puppet strings of submissive and stoned.  Waves of feminization wafted me up the stairs.  I'm wearing white lingerie and stockings under my maid dress.  Collar.  Delicious.

The interval after consuming edibles is such a tease!  It's like the feeling of a hand floating just over my hard cock.  The promise of touch, the suggestion of pleasures to come.  The weed arrives in a gentle crescendo, like a warm rising tide; feminization saturating me every pore.  

Some feelings are ineffable, yet generations have deemed fit to try.  A breathtakingly ruthless bliss smoulders from the combined light of my multifarious fetishes.

...and then suddenly a step change deeper!  A wave that fell off a cliff.  Splat!  It arrived, carrying a load of sissy arousal and dumped it on my lap.  I staggered, floating, reeling.  Oh, and I put away the mild.  Mustn't let it spoil.  Right, so I was a horny sissy bitch, and I wondered, "Am I gay?"

 I heard Her voice say, "No.  I am."

08:56 

 09:05, as I remember was the arrival of a sudden, "I'M STONED!"  Couldn't type.  Couldn't sit, or even speak.  Barely breathe.  Krytponite laser beams of "Oh, fuck, I'm a horny, submissive, mind-fucked sissy faggot transvestite hypno-slave." It hits hard, and I'm defenceless.  No struggle.  With its rush of mind-numbing bliss, I welcome staggering from each blow.

This isn't illegal, immoral, unfaithful, fattening or polyunsaturated.  It's fucking wonderful, erotic, intense, emotional, sensual, inspirational, centering, satisfying, blissful...oh, and addictive as fuck!

Don't you see?  I'm a broken, mind-fucked tranny fuck toy.  I don't care about addictive.  Dressing, trancing, stoning...I submit.

I'm balancing the keyboard on my cock.  It's twelve inches long and pink.  So is the harness.  In ritualistic humiliation, I wear my Wife's strap-on whenever I'm dressed.  Even I find something weird that wearing a strap-on feels erotic.

 09:41.  The last some minutes are a haze.  Fingers feel like turnips.  Everywhere an erotic haze.  Stoned Warp Factor (outa ten) about 7 gusting 8, and I contemplating a visit to Mr. Pax.  It just leapt to my weak sissy mind, that I might perform a Devotion Ritual by playing a hypno file, standing upright in my sissy slut outfit, staring into a mirror, and taking a vape.  Something tells me, "this is it," with respect to my sexuality.  Entry to the Sissy Portal.  Heavenly gates of slut.  Dunno.

High getting higher.  Femmed getting femmeder.*

10:54.  Can barely type.  Too stoned to see.  Outcome of vaping a bowl, as I recall.

Feeling this lovely soft willowy feeling, my skin a sensual tingle.

Just barely capable of ambulation, I think.  But here's the thing.  I only sat down to recrd my current trajectory - Up, decidedly Up, before the near certainty arises that I'm too whacked to type for a while...

12:18.  Blurry with arousal.  Deeply, happily stoned.  The last hour a pleasant mist, except that I'm now in the plum basque and stocking set with black stilletos.  Yum.  Still with the collar.  Anyway,

Oh, yeah, I do recall just coming inside from a display of scanty consumption on the deck.  I had a cola of 125 mg, with a squirt additional for another 15ish mg THC.   And I tried to look seductively casual while drinking it.  

13:24.  Feeling absolutely incredible. Just now arising enough to type.  I AM A MIND-FUCKED SISSY FAGGOT TRANSVESTITE COCK SUCKER HYPNO-SLAVE.

Autonomous fingers.  Coudln't stop 'em.  Things are muddled, in the sense that I'm not sure what really happened and what I imagined, can't recall in what order, and have no idea how long any of them took.  

It's time for a SitRep.  I hasten to add, an ambitious task for a singular on-line brain cell.  Ahem,

It's mid-day Friday.  Things have gone pretty much exactly as anticipated thus far, the effect is self-evident in my current attire:  all-slut.  Lot's of time, weed, porn and hypno files lay ahead.  If there is ever to be "the moment," surely this is it.  The point of no return, where a sissy slut succumbs to the craving.  Something snaps.  Irrevrsible.  Yet, knowing how my most dark fetish fantasies are crashing headlong into reality, and feeling the relentless mind-numbing bliss that comes from succumbing to feminization, well... 

...I wouldn't change a thing!  Carry on!  Steady at the helm! 

14:26, and I'm even sure anymore why I keep writing these posts.  My bundled fear and hope had been that this protracted sissy interval would prove transformative.  I'd no longer bet against the house!  I've been "kept" in the zone between Friggin" Stoned and ZombieStoned since breakfast.  I keep going deeper, I keep liking more.  I feel soft and empty and poofy in my head.  Whatever remains that can be called "thoughts" are monopolized with registering the shark bites and bee stings of deeply feminized arousal.  

Floating, thoughtless, empty, somehow feels feminine, helpless and entranced.  An arousal loop is closed, wherein arousal and femininity resonate noisily. 

16:44, if conventional time has any meaning.  Relentlessly mind-fucked, twin headlights of stoned and horny.  More.  Deeper.  Stoned means arousal.  More stoned?  Yup, more arousal thus far.  Call me a bad scientist, but I'll extrapolate the curve.  

Much muddled, time is.  Last two hours, something about the Pax once or twice, and a lot of floating, eye rolling, and general sexualized manic spacticity.  Heaven.  Bliss.  

Going deeper.  Pax is recharged.  Submit.  Obey...

18:28.  Hours of Pax and Pax and Pax and Pax, if my fuzzy recollections have any meaning.  Mistress has tipped her hand with regard to my feminization.  She is slowly making me higher and higher until I plateau somewhere in the upper Canisphere, where the sun's heat melts my "regular" mind, leaving pure mindless sissy.  I recall early this morning, drying off after the shower, feeling anxious to embark upon my naughty day, and I recall the sudden feeling of predation.  I.  Was.  Prey.  And just as quickly I realized that it was Mistress, and I could in that moment hear her laughing.  

There have been several instances in the last two days, when I suddenly feel that Mistress is seeing and "I" am somehow in the back seat.  I'm still centered where "my" body is, but so is Mistress, and in a much more interactive sense.  I'm sort of floating.  The membrane that separates "Me" from "Mistress" is currently very thin.   

Okay, to be fair, very stoned.  Like Significantly Stoned, on the eleven-point Ripped Sissy Scale.  Probably pushing Most Ever Stoned, but not quite.  Still, I sense that there is a lot of really fun Fuck Doll left in this evening.   

/H

* Unconventional adjective alert!