Further to my last transcendently incoherent note, my writing went downhill from then in proportion to my increasingly stoned state.  (Just as I am now.  4ish and climbing.  That vape wasn't done yet, no Siree!)

It was just the experience that I was programmed and triggered to have...I presume.  The whole day had a small element of familiarity to it, as if I were watching a movie of a book I'd read.  More than familiarity, rather inevitability.  I was the rat crawling after the erotic cheese.  Well, aren't I a font of colourful metaphors!  

I simply dissolved into "SISSY FAGGOT SLUT".  I was bowled over, incapacitated literally for hours by a new and utterly intoxicating new feeling of arousal; one that is decidedly feminine and breathtakingly submissive.  Yesterday was remarkable both for its duration and intensity (When will some faggot engineer define the "Sissy Power Density"?  A product of duration and intensity?  Uh Oh.  I think I just did!), but also for how the last shreds and tattered fragments of my male resistance fell away.  It was like emerging from cloud, and what I saw was my feminine persona being a permanent part of life forevermore.  Internal struggle has ceased, and during the ensueing blissful psychic sigh I realized a few things...  

I recalled that I had periodically been dressing in women's clothing since I was about eleven years old.  I was surprised to realize that I would have identified myself as submissive even earlier; perhaps as early as age nine.  Since that age I doubt that a day has passed when my vivid erotic imagination hadn't mused over crossdressing or submission in some form.

Then I stopped to look in my mental mirror; taking stock of myself as I was in that minute:  red corset, black panties, garters, stockings and pumps.  Brown wig.  Red lips.  Dark eyes.  Butt plug snugly in place.  Strap-on cock squishing my flaccid cock into submission.  Submission.  It all feels so intense that it's beyond my control.  My body feels driven by raw arousal; fuelled by raw funk of desire.  That was me in the moment, dancing in my stocking feet, and muttering in a smokey jazz voice, "I am a sissy faggot transvestite hypno-slave."

Then came the vision of the timeline of my life moving forward, and all I could see was feminization, sissification, submission, hypnosis and mind control out to the horizon of my imagination, taking me ever DEEPER.  In my imagination, I could clearly follow it forward in time to the horizon of consciousness, following my path DEEPER and DEEPER into mindless sissy-faggotry, until one could see no DEEPER.  Alas, it was clear when my path lead.  

The feeling of that moment, as I feel headfirst into my sissy faggot future, was without a shred of hesitation or doubt.  I felt instead only eager anticipation.  

I am a sissy faggot transvestite hypno-slave.  I must go deeper.  DEEPER.