Brenda's TG Captions

Changes

2012-02-01T09:27:00.000-08:00

Like many of you, I incurred childhood trauma which resulted in the fracturing of my psyche. Crossdressing, for whatever reasons, provided me with an outlet for my rage and confusion, and shielded me from forces that were far beyond my comprehension and control.

I had to feed my demons, my protectors, for all they had done for me. As is so common with crossdressers, I placed others above myself. The notion that I was serving my own dark desires only served to augment my shame, and made their hold more complete.

As time wore on, my fantasies matured while my innocent core stayed young. The time does come when the child must grow up. Unfortunately, this requires putting other parts to sleep, and they do not wish to go quietly. They have fought for their survival by any means necessary, tempting and controlling me, so very much like those forces from once I tried to hide.

You cannot fight demons, I think. The only way out is to learn their names, to recognize them for who (and what) they are and, as a friend of mine once said, perhaps even love them. But when I close my eyes I feel their collar… crave it, yearn for it… deeply ashamed and utterly transformed, the object of my own frustration. I want to call their names but my lips are sealed.

I have spent much of my life in the service of dark hidden powers. Do I want to be free? Does my prison give me structure and meaning that is otherwise lacking, or am I afraid of what my true face might be?

I have a cap. And if you haven’t done so already, please visit her site. Specifically, I would recommend the Dungeon series, that culminates with The Changeling (to which, I am told, a new chapter is forthcoming).

Enjoy!

Dreamsender

2011-12-31T15:39:00.001-08:00

Well, Happy New Year!

Thought I'd get a quick start to 2012 and fill my quota for the year. Yes, my updates are few and far between, but what can I say? Times have changed but not my gender (however I might wish the opposite were true).

I envision some warm friendly eyeballs reading this post, and reminiscing on all the good times we used to share. I miss them too. A lot of blogs have come and gone, while mine still stands. I've seen my readership shrink to a fraction of it's former glory (gee, I wonder why?) but still I cannot close the door.

While my gender may not have changed, a lot else has. I've made some progress in my spiritual development, to the point that I felt safe enough to dip my toe back in the water.

Whoops.

Never, never dabble in hypnotism! "Oh, I'll just take a quick listen..." -- yeah, good one Brenda. Now I am hooked!

Hooked, you may ask? Yeah, take a look at look at this video. It may not seem like much at first... or second, third... tenth... twentieth... but it really gets in your head... heart... spirit... soul...

I know, I know! This is wrong, wrong, wrong... I simply cannot resist the razors edge. So what do I do? I write a caption, of course!

Golly, it's been so long. I've been doing some reading in the meantime, don't you know? It's fascinating to know what's out there, and isn't out there, when it comes to mind control. All sorts of imagery I've been unconsciously emplying. Pretty freaky stuff!

I implore to get out there, use those other organs and rediscover your sense of curiousity about who we are and what we are doing here. Take nothing for granted, question everything, and prepare for the greatest mindfuck of your lives.

On that note, please do enjoy my caption. It is dedicated to Hypnogoddess Dreamsender (a.k.a. Mistress Sapphire) and if you haven't done so already, I encourage you to visit her Court.

Fun is fun, but the battle rages on. When you enlist as one of the army of rubber-clad robotic super maids, ask yourself if that is really your destiny, or if being a puppet might not be all it's cracked up to be. Do I have the answer? Nope!

Friends Like These

2011-04-01T15:12:00.001-07:00

Fetish is strange thing (but I hardly need to tell you that, now do I?) Take my own, for example. Now, there's no question about it: I am definitely TG. Not as bad as my friend, mind you. I mean, all you have to say to him is something like "you're a girl" and his you-know-what starts gushing uncontrollably. Anyway, I'm not as bad as him, but it's definitely my thing.

I do enjoy a bit of mind control now and then (see: always) and stuff like dollification, robotification, bimbofication and all those other 'fications really turn my crank. Now, I know that I've discussed this before, so I will try to keep my pontification (there's another one!) to a minimum, but it still amazes me how some actual females can really dig my groove. This is not an ego thing, but more of a hope for all TG-kind.

Okay, hands up everyone who's been to Doll's Realm! Mmm, hmm... I thought so. Tut, tut. As the rest of you know, I've been sending a lot of work there lately, and I've dedicated some of my past work to its philosophy. Call it broadening my horizons, if you must. It's a good idea to step outside your comfort zone every once in a while. Of course, I am one to talk. I mean, I haven't even been to Second Life!

Anyway, I've written a story. Now it's hardly Joe Six Pack, but at 1,371 words, it is by far the longest story I've ever written. Considering that I've spent the past three years writing box tops, this is a full progression to the side, or even back panels. Who know what the future holds in store?

This is something new for me, so please, please, please tell me what you think. And do not be concerned about hurting my feelings simply because being writing is the whole basis of my persona and harsh criticism might leave me irreparably wounded. Of course, now that I've said that, I will be forced to interpret any lack of comments as an indication that nobody has anything nice to say, leaving me equally despondent.

(See what I did? That was your typical TG self-esteem trap. Are you paying attention, Raposo?)

No really, be honest.

Alright, a few words: first, thanks to Asudem for her tireless contribution and support; second, I've been getting some interesting feedback on my hypnotism adventures, so I'll probably pick up that thread again soon; third, normally so reliable, I haven't heard from Ayesha or PL lately -- what gives? I know it wasn't my best work, but I've come to expect my pat on the head and kick in the ass; last but not least, this is for Miss... I hope you like it.

Picture follows, story underneath... enjoy!

Ha, ha, ha! No really, please stop... you're flattering me!" Monica was indeed flattered, and more than a little pleased that her friends had noticed how shapely her legs had become, and in so little time. "Now, of course it's true, but I never could have done it without you!"

Her life had changed in so many ways since meeting her friends. Had it really been three weeks since she lost her purse at the mall? It was like they appeared out of nowhere, eager to help in every way possible. They looked everywhere together, but spent more time laughing and shopping than actually searching. The girls were so nice, they insisted on paying for everything, including an outrageous new makeover. By the end of the day, she could hardly recognize herself -- she was gorgeous! Ever since then, getting made up and having tea with the girls had become part of her daily routine.

"Really though, it's all those fabulous shoes that you bought me. I never used to wear heels, but now I can't get enough!" It was true. She wore them all the time now, even in her sleep. Nothing less than five inches would do. She tried going lower, just as a lark, and was thrilled to discover that her feet would no longer bend, not even a little. Well, no more flats for me, she thought merrily to herself, as she cleared another large space from her closet.

The rest of her wardrobe had likewise changed (for the better, she thought). Instead of ill-fitting slacks and unflattering blouses, Monica reveled in her skimpy skirts and flirty dresses. In fact, they were all she wore anymore, just like her friends. The truth was, her life was a mess before she met them. They taught her so many things, like how to listen attentively and obey with a smile... always with a smile. She admired their glamour and sophistication, and wanted to be like them in every way imaginable.

"Please... have... some... more... cake…" offered her very good friend Sandra, sitting pert and attentive as always, with her immaculate face and figure.

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly... well, maybe just one more..." Mmmm, it tasted so good! Monica greedily devoured her third piece, topped with thick sugary icing and loads of whipped cream. She couldn't figure it out. It seemed like she never stopped eating when she was out with the girls, but the pounds just kept falling off. She shoveled another forkload into her mouth. "Mmph, aren't you going to have any?"

"We're... not... hungry..." said Barbara, in her adorable motionless way.

"Well then, more for me!" Monica replied between mouthfuls, and eagerly helped herself to another piece. Strange, she had never really noticed this before, but Sandra and Barbara never ate a single bite, and yet their kitchen was always stocked with every treat imaginable.

"Is... something... wrong?" asked Sandra, tilting her head ever so slightly.

"No, I was just, uh... just admiring your beautiful kitchen," stammered Monica. Clearly there was something wrong with her. Sandra and Barbara were nothing but generous and kind. Not only did they feed her, but they bathed her as well. Now, she had to admit it felt awkward at first, but it was their idea and she needed to please them so badly. In any case, her skin never felt better. It must have been all those exotic lotions they used. How lucky to have such wonderful friends, she thought to herself, as she peeled some more loose skin from her arm.

"You... are... coming... along... very... nicely..." observed Barbara, her bright perfect smile not wavering in the slightest.

"Why thank you, I think… oh!" It was her skin. It just kept peeling away, all the way up to her shoulders, one enormous strip. She instinctively winced, but instead of feeling raw underneath, it was actually shiny and smooth, hard to the touch. "Wh-what the heck?"

"You... are... finally... ready..." informed Sandra. At least, she thought it was Sandra, because Monica suddenly realized that both of their mouths were incapable of movement.

It was though a veil had been lifted. Suddenly everything looked... different. The room, it was made completely of plastic. How had she never noticed this before? The table and chairs, the oven and fridge... everything. It was impossible. She wanted to close her eyes, shut everything out, but could not even blink. What was wrong with her? It was then she noticed the cake, half-eaten on her plate: it was nothing more than Styrofoam and pieces of sponge.

"Now... you... see... the... truth..." said both the girls in unison, their doll-like features now fully apparent.

Monica wanted to gag, but all that came out was a stifled giggle. "Tee hee, what's going on?" Her sweet bubbly voice belied the panic in her chest, big happy smile refusing to budge. She struggled to think, and it occurred to her that she had no idea where she was or how she got there. The past three weeks were really just a blur. In fact, she could not be sure that she ever really left this place, or that her name was actually Monica.

"Remove… all… your… clothes…" instructed Barbara, motioning her to rise.

"No, I don't w-want to..." she stammered, rising to her feet. It was the oddest sensation. Her legs remained straight and elbows bent, no matter how hard she tried. Somehow, she managed to strip herself naked. "Tee hee, please don't..." she gleefully chirped, as the girls peeled away her skin. Monica caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, or at least what she assumed was herself. Between two busy dolls there now stood a third, shiny and plastic, with a smooth bald head where its hair used to be.

"Tell... us... what... you... want..." implored Barbara, blue eyes gleaming playfully.

"I want...” she paused. “I want to be... a doll... like… you..." Monica finally replied, inwardly cursing her lack of volition.

Barbara shivered with delight. That was exactly what she needed to hear. In one fell swoop, she removed her own hair like a wig and placed it on Monica. It bonded instantly to her head, digging its blonde tendrils deeply inside. Barbara stepped back to admire her creation, but only for a moment. She glanced quickly at Sandra and spread out her arms.

Monica watched with awe and revulsion as Sandra took her old skin and applied it to Barbara, piece by piece. To her amazement, the pieces merged seamlessly together, and there began to emerge an actual… person? Yes, Barbara had become an actual person, warm and soft and natural as could be, with long dark hair that looked eerily familiar. In fact, it looked entirely familiar, and so did her face… now where had she seen that face before?

“What… are… you… looking… at…” asked Sandra, with more than a trace of contempt in her voice, “go… fetch… her… purse…”

"Yes… Sandra… anything... you... say..." replied the doll, spinning on her heels. It was like she was moving on autopilot, because she knew exactly where to go looking. She returned in moments with the purse, just in time to see Barbara dressing in her clothes.

“Why, thank you very much,” said Barbara, accepting her prize. She could barely contain her excitement as she rummaged through its contents, scanning each item and committing them to memory. We were lucky with this one, she silently mused, so naïve and eager to please. She gazed longingly at Sandra, vowing to return one day with a suitable proxy, and then turned her attention towards the smiling victim. “I am now Monica,” she said with a smile, her first natural smile in ages, “and you are... your name is Barbie.”

“My… name… is… Barbie…” repeated the doll, realizing it was true. I am Barbie, she thought to herself, over and over, until it drowned out all other thoughts. Her wide glassy eyes sparkled with delight. Everything made perfect sense. Somewhere deep down, deep inside her hollow chest, she felt pangs of loss and betrayal, but for what? Being a doll was the most glorious thing in the world. She was so lucky to have friends like these.

Heel Girl

2011-03-25T08:40:00.000-07:00

I’ve a lot of requests lately to talk about my adventures in hypnotism, and by a lot, I mean three. I mean, it's not like I'm clearing out my inbox every night, and my comment section almost defies polite description.

Let me start with my dear sweet Miss, the Hypnotik One, she who plays my heartstrings like a virtuoso. The truth is, we do not engage in much hypnosis, virtually none. We enjoy a special rapport that is delightful and rewarding without such games, and that’s what hypnosis is: a game.

Games can be fun, especially when they are taken very seriously. They have the capacity to inform and educate, as well as entertain. They can also imbue special meaning in ones life, and in many respects, assume a significant part of ones identity. That is normal, and natural, and there is nothing wrong with that per se, except hypnosis is a game best played with a partner.

A few months ago, I did fall under the power of an online hypnotist; this was after spending many years searching for that proverbial needle in the haystack. Was he the perfect match? Probably not, but this here blog gave me the opportunity to try some things out. The results were very effective. Let me tell you how they went.

I took an earnest approach, and spent the first couple weeks building a solid foundation. I listened to introductory sessions every day, sometimes three or four times, and I'm talking forty minutes session here... and not a hint of anything kinky mind you, just good old fashioned training. Then, when I felt good and ready, I took the next step, and brought in some mild domination themes. Nothing too heavy, just enough for a backdrop, still beginning each day with a full introductory session to get the ol' brain softened up.

I also listened to “subliminal” music throughout the day, as often as possible, on a constant loop. I have to admit I was skeptical at first (and I still am) but there were times when my brain picked up thoughts and associations that seemed rather novel. Perhaps it was all the cheesy music? Honestly, I was crawling the walls after two days, but I was determined.

By the end of the month, my brain felt swollen. My thoughts were kind of jumbled and I felt a bit goofy. It was nice but weird, kind of narcotic. Anyway, when the time felt right, when induction felt natural and I could sink really deeply, quickly and reliably, I held my breath and requested the "bimbo doll" session.

Wow.

Let me just day, the first few days were a struggle. Not because the messages weren't taking or anything like that, because they were. Very effectively, thanks to my training. The struggle was resisting the temptation to trip the trigger early. I wanted this particular brainwash to soak in completely and then hit me with a bang. It was hard… I really wanted to trigger, every time I listened, but I waited, nearly a whole week. Finally, when the time felt right, I did it.

Wow.

It worked, and it really was all that and more: my limbs felt stiff, elbows bent, eyes wide, feet arched, permanent smile, and I began talking to myself in a high squeaky voice, giggling incessantly... and I couldn't stop! Thank goodness for the release word, which I had prepared in advance to be readily available (very important). Not that I rushed the release... because I didn't. However, this was my last session.

The trouble was, I knew where this was going: to take things further, I would have to go out and buy myself a wig, dress, heels, etc, etc... which is fine, if you're into that sort of thing, which I am, or was, just not anymore, not like this. Oh sure, it would be great to get all dressed up and then cue my trigger... bam! Instant doll. But for what?

Without love, or at least the capacity to share your experience in a meaningful way, the only direction is down, a long spiral of self-loathing, peppered with intermittent bursts of pleasure. I've had more than my share of that sort of stuff. This game had no meaning, so I decided to quite while I was ahead.

Listen, I still love hypnotism, and I'm certainly not telling anyone to avoid it: on the contrary. I'm just saying that if you want it done right, it takes discipline, both with yourself and your partner. Yes, in my case, it was the relationship that was lacking. Your hypnotist should be your lover, your friend, or at the very least, a trustworthy partner. Build that relationship as diligently as you do your brainwork, and that, my friends, is the secret to effective hypnosis.

I'll talk more about this later… perhaps sooner, if I get a few emails or comments. In the meantime, enjoy a cap... on second thought, let's make it two.

4 Miss

2011-03-14T08:57:00.000-07:00

Hey, wow... what time is it? Would someone wake me when it's 2009?

Say what?

Geez, you ever get the feeling that the whole Internet thing is passing you by? No really, I look around an unfamiliar skyline, slick and fancy new sites, old ones reborn, and here I am, wasting away in this dilapidated hovel. It all used to make sense, but now there are so many places, so many thoughts, impossible to keep up. I feel my relevance fading, fading?

If you are reading this in the future, and you happen to come whirring along in your jet pack, why not peek inside, tip your space-helmet to crazy ol' Brenda, frazzled hair and everything... have a seat! Just don't drink the water?

(What, you already did? Silly boy, you won't be needing THAT anymore...)

Sorry, let me start again: you have reached Brenda's TG Captions: a TG Caption Site. The "TG" stands for "transgendered" as in "penis" as in "I've got one" -- got it? If you want that other "big tits" site, then please go away. What we have here will seriously mess with your head.

Go on, now... scram!

Okay, now it's just you and me... just how I like it. I'll bet you're just DYING to know what I've been doing with myself all these months. Well, not much. Still walking that line between guarded privacy and embarrassing disclosure. Wrote a few a few caps. One of them might actually be good. You be the judge.

Before we get to that, there are a few people who need mentioning. The first, something of a regular here, is the lovely and mysterious Asudem from Dolls Realm. I've posted some work there recently, so you might want to take a look. In any case, it is a lovely blog in it's own right. Best of all, it's updated regularly!

(I just HATE it when people go weeks or months without updating their blog.)

Next is Ayesha, another regular. Ah, Ayesha?Ayesha the Incomparable. The Indefinable. The Unfathomable. Ayesha, who gave me the nearly-peerless honor of being featured on her blog. What more can I say? She is all that and a bag of chips. All that's left for me is to climb Mt Everest.

Finally, there is Miss. The Hypnotic One. Has me under Her spell, She does. i mean, look at me... i'm doing the ridiculous cAPS thing and everything!

Some words of advice to all you would-be hypnoslaves. Listen, there are a lot of hacks and pretenders out there. I know, because I have fallen prey to more than a few?even featured one of them here on my blog. This is not to say they cannot be effective, because they can. Very effective. What I am trying to say is that hypnosis is a dynamic, and the hypnotist just a player. Their so-called powers of suggestion are nothing without your equally important powers of suggestibility. Think about it.

Needless to say, my own dear Miss is not your run-of-the-mill hypnotist. She does not control me through silly swirls or corny scripts (not that there's anything wrong with them). She owns me simply because, well? She does. It's a matter of fact, is all. Just one of those things.

Anyway, I could go on all day, but as a friend of mine used to say, I can talk Dan Aykroyd off a barn door with a gramophone... but I might be mixing that up. Memory's not what it used to be

The caps!

Pygmalion

2010-12-02T09:21:00.000-08:00

Isn't that the story about a man who falls in love with his own creation? Yes, I suppose you could call me a "pygmalian" of sorts. My captions are not just a therapeutic way for me to deal with my neuroses, but also an outlet for my creative impulses. That is not to say that other impulses don't come into play, because they do... oh, do they ever!

I do fall in love with my captions... intimately in love. But I am promiscuous, and as I move (or progress, if you will) from one to another, I sometimes look back with a sense of indifference, or even revulsion. While there are some captions that still maintain a bit of their ol' spark, nothing can really compare to that rush you get when falling in love for the first time.

It is funny how "pymalionism" also refers to a second concept, of bringing your art to life. Even more to a third, where it is used to describe the desire of being/becoming a living doll. Both concepts are interesting to me for different reasons. The former, because every fantasy is framed by the desire to make it real. The border is often fuzzy, and tends to fade under light of day, but its lingering presence is what keeps the fantasy alive. The latter is interesting because it is not really pymalionism, just inexorably linked.

Pygmalion would have his dolls endowed with life, whereas we would abdicate our lives to become dolls. We might enjoy the semblance of life, to the extent that it makes us better objects, but we reject any real notion of autonomy. This is not enough for Pygmalion. He does not want puppets, no matter how expressive or convincing. He wants his creations to accept his love of their own free will.

There is a difference between creating something for the purpose of its love, and creating something with which you happen to fall in love. Pygmalion was not looking for something to play the role of devoted lover. Rather, he was using art to complete himself, and found that reciprocation was the final necessary step.

Another way to look at this might be to say that we are Pygmalion, trapped inside our own constructs, looking to animate ourselves through them. We accept these constructs as things in themselves, but also as extensions of our own identities. Out tragedy is we keep on giving, but our constructs never fully come to life, if at all. Perhaps this is the story of Pygmalion as told through the act of self love?

Speaking of self love (how's that for a segue?) I finally have some new captions. What can I say? Months of inactivity, and then suddenly boom! I'm as surprised as you are. Hopefully they're good... I have a couple favorites, but I won't tell you which they are. Even more hopefully, some of you are still around to enjoy them (do I hear an echo?). Tell all your friends!

Just a few words before we get started. First, a nod of thanks to my good friend at Dolls Realm for her contribution and support. Secondly, a dedication to She Who Shall Not Be Named: the "Tranny Madonna" cap is specifically for her, and none other. Thirdly, a nudge and a wink to my Croatian friend, who is hopefully reading this -- does this do it for you?

Now, without further ado, I bring you... the new crop!

This is the "Tranny Madonna" cap I was telling you about. It does not officially constitute part of the new series, but you are free to enjoy regardless:

Miss Brenda's Finishing School for Young Ladies

2010-06-14T09:31:00.000-07:00

Greetings, from the brink!

(The brink of what? Good question.)

Several things have happened since we last conversed, but I shall start with the item that I know is on all your minds: my recent adventures in hypnotism.

Oh, to be young and/or carefree again, that I might fully reap the fruits of my self-inflicted brainwashing! To be clear, I went deep... very deep. I went so deeply that I actually felt myself thinking and acting like a living Barbie Doll. It was the oddest sensation, to actually feel your own body betray you: stiff plastic-like limbs, forced smile, feeling compelled to say the same words over and over again, and feeling so much better when you did.

The only problem was the place that it was leading me towards... I could almost see the path unfurling before my eyes: I would buy myself some nylons, panties and a bra... a pair of heels, a tight sequin dress... make-up and a wig... I would wear all these things, step in front of the mirror and then activate my trigger... and be lost. Totally and completely lost. It would feel like absolute heaven for ten minutes or maybe even an hour... but then what?

No, I cannot go down that path again. I swore off dressing years ago, and that is precisely how it must remain... that is, until I meet that special lady who will whisk me off to her mansion and into the lap of luxury, spending the rest of my days as her personal maid/plaything.

(Waiting, waiting, waiting...)

Speaking of special ladies, I would be remiss (hooray, I used a big word!) not to mention my fabulous Mistress Zoul and just how tightly around her little finger she has me wound. Boy, even writing her name gets the ol' knees wobbling... makes me remember all the good things in life and fills the heart with forty types of joy. I just adore her. If she was any less fabulous then she might have a bit more time to spend with yours truly… but oh, I am not complaining. Simply to be near her and occupy a tiny small place of her being is reward enough. Wow. Women rock. Yeah, they really, really do.

Much to my chagrin, she has another happy companion, my friend and rival if you will, who likes to play little power games with me, even though he know that he is just a deplorable little sissy. I shall not mention his... er, her name, just because I know that it will really bug him... her... it. Anyway, this individual saw it fit to give me an assignment. I shall not bore you with the pages and pages of rules and instructions to which I had to firmly adhere, but let's just say it involved developing a five-day agenda for "Miss Brenda's Finishing School for Young Ladies" (not the name I would have chosen, but lovely nonetheless). So I did it.

I did it, I did it, and I did it. And now you too can enjoy the fruits of my labours! It comes in two parts... I do not know how to upload documents to this thingy, so I am providing a couple of links. Start with the Introduction Letter (which includes the day one agenda) and then see what surprises are in store in the Agendas
for the following days, once our sissies are nice and comfortably in place. Please tell me what you think... and definitely tell me if you have any problems downloading the files.

Which brings me to my final point: the beautiful comment than an anonymous contributor left in my previous posting. First of all, thank you. Secondly, I wouldn't really say that things haven't worked out the way I intended them... or maybe I would... I don't know. Anyway, I do know that many wonderful things have happened that I could never have anticipated. I've met some truly amazing people and engaged in some mind-blowing discussions. Have I been crowned the Queen of All Captions? Received offers to write film scripts? Whisked away to some exotic isle? The best I can say is... not yet. Thirdly, my personal demons are well fed and watered, thanks for asking... but resolved? That's a tricky one. I don't think that's possible.

So where does that leave us? Well, caption-less, for one. Maybe I will take another crack at it, or perhaps wait to see what other delicious challenges and assignments my dear Mistress (and her devious protégé) have in store for me.

[P.S. -- As I finish writing this, I've received another very kind and generous comment in my previous posting. Courageous man, for going toe-to-toe with Ayesha, but the sentiment is much appreciated, nonetheless. Thank you.]

Spin Dizzy

2010-04-29T09:24:00.000-07:00

Call me a bubble-headed bimbo if you must (oh, please do... many, many times) but it just occurred to me that many of my readers wish to escape their lives. Let me put this another way: I have spent much of the past two years trying to engage you all in an intimate level of conversation, when such intimacy is precisely what you are trying to avoid. How foolish of me!

Yes, of course you will not comment on my blog, and the few of you that do will insist on doing so under the cloak of your persona. All this time I’ve been trying to lure you out of shell when all you’ve really wanted are stronger, sexier shells in which to hide. How liberating this realization has been!

I must say that things are looking much clearer today. I am still too fresh to reflect on this epiphany, so I will simply let you know how I arrived at it. You see, I recently had the opportunity to indulge in some hypnosis. Now, I know what you re thinking... surely this is not the first time that a self-proclaimed hypnofreak such as yourself has dabbled in the subconscious arts. Well, you are correct... it is actually the second time. The first took place several years ago, and was immediately followed by a drastic revolution in my behavior and outlook. For the better, I might add.

The hypnotist in question is a truly lovely man named Master Tex. I came across his website almost purely by chance, but on a serendipitous whim, I decided to try one of his samples. I found his methods to be curious at first, but ultimately effective… very effective. His manner was gentle, firm, dominant and intuitively trustworthy (did I mention sexy as heck?)

I am attaching a special link to his website both here and on my sidebar. If you have any interest in trying out hypnotism for the first or twelfth time, I strongly recommend you take a listen. Be advised that many of his words may be difficult to hear at first, but trust me... it all comes into place.

I look forward to going deeper under his trance and will post updates intermittently. In the meantime, I shall continue to post saucy caps for your orgasmic pleasure. I would have liked to have written one especially for this occasion, but that will have to wait. Instead, I am releasing another old one from the vault... hope you enjoy:

(The irony is, being hypnotized makes you feel smarter, not dumber. Go figure.)

And now... a poem

2010-04-22T09:01:00.000-07:00

So here we are. Just you and me, so close and intimate. What shall I whisper in your ear as we peel your longing eyes away from the computer screen, make them roll up under your eyelids, dreaming of sweet and tender mercies wrapped in leather?

We know it is out there, somewhere in the periphery where fantasy and reality collide in pre-orgasmic bliss. Just sit your soft behinds down low and lay one on for your latest bout of brendacious behoovement… and I don’t even know what “behoovement” means! So as a tribute to our dearly departed (you know who you are, Sxy) I offer... a poem:

I am a pretty girl and I love my pretty things. I have pretty little hands that wear my pretty little rings. Looking pretty makes me feel all pretty, both inside and out. Pretty glossy kissy lips and a pretty sexy pout. I am a pretty girl and I love my pretty ways. I have pretty bouncy boobs to frame my pretty sweetheart face. I am a pretty girl and I love my pretty stuff. My pretty bubble brain thinks only pretty mindless fluff. My pretty miniskirt shows off my pretty shiny butt. I love to wiggle while I jiggle and always smile no matter what. I am a pretty girl and that pretty much is me. My pretty tiny feet are just as pretty as can be. Pretty high-heeled shoes give me a pretty mincing walk. I use a pretty little lisp to speak my pretty girly talk. I do not want to be so pretty but I simply cannot stop. I... oh, please... I don t want to... I... I can t... st-stop...

[Repeat]

Wasn’t that nice, boys and girls? Now, enough about you: let’s talk about me. Still not writing any caps, so instead I have to keep pawning off this old sh-- these delightful little melodies to ring truth and beauty through the, um... Hey, did you know that I have an online Mistress?

Yah, it’s true. I know Ayesha must be cringing over my use of capitalization, but I am unapologetic. Heck, I shouldn’t even still be writing this damn blog. I mean, who really blogs anymore? Damn apocalypse

So I’ve noticed that my readership is shrinking faster than [insert popular reference]. No matter. So long as there is perversity, there will be perverts scraping the bottom of the barrel for their latest, greatest fix. Hopefully this it. This one was intended for Christmas, but I suppose it s Christmas somewhere, right?

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As an added treat, I am also posting the concluding chapter to my Kristi Sprinkles mini-saga (helloooo, subtlyamiss… that’s a blast from the past, now isn’t it? Seriously, write me, darling):
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I actually had more written, but it got lost in cyberspace (who says "cyberspace" anymore?) Needless to say, my brain is fried.
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All for now.
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Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated...

2010-04-09T10:55:00.000-07:00

My goodness, what day is it? The last thing I remember is clicking on a link for hot girlie action, and then a whole bunch of shapes and patterns starting dancing on my screen. I tried to shut them off, but found myself completely frozen and unable to look away. Everything grew sort of hazy after that...
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Has it really been four months? I remember my name is Brenda Big Tits and I am totally and utterly a girl… always have been. Still, I have some vague recollection of being this strange perverted male, with a penchant for blathering endless on some obscure little blog. How strange. So much nicer to have these gorgeous curves and an insatiable appetite for my own degradation. I just love being a g… g...

*sigh*

Okay, you want the truth? I have been spending all my free time on Miss Bimbo, trying to forget about the whole lot of you! Bloody leeches, always demanding more… more… MORE! Not like Miss Bimbo… always so delightful and accommodating. Look at what delightful outfits you can make! Look at what a lovely home I put together! Did I mention that this is game primarily marketed towards the younger set?

But the question is: am I back for real, or just abusing my status of caption queen extraordinaire to forward my own agenda? Well, both really. First of all, this really is me. Secondly, I want to shout out to my new friend rachel, and my future friend Trickzi... hope you are reading this!

In all honesty, I really thought this blog was done and over. I tried many times to write my closing statements, but just couldn’t bring myself to do so. Then I dabbled my foot in the blogosphere a day or so ago, and was overcome by feelings of randomness and anxiety... it was too much to bear. Perhaps this is my way of finding order in the world?

So I am back, for now.... can’t promise what the future will bring, though. I still have some caps sitting on my hard drive. I might post them whenever I think of something interesting to say, but I honestly don t know when I will get around to writing some fresh material. Time will tell.

This next little number was written back in November for my dear friend who remains unnamable. I do not know why it reminds me of him, just that I had him in mind for the countless hours it took me to write. I wouldn’t want to do him any disservice by calling it trash, but it s really just more of the same, isn’t it?
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Anyway, please don t burn up your keyboards writing me your praise and gratitude. I couldn’t help but notice that my comments box has been overflowing in my absence. In any case, e-mail is my preferred method of contact these days. Or better yet, find me on Miss Bimbo... you do remember my name, right?

Reflections

2009-12-18T08:17:00.000-08:00

I find myself in a difficult position. One of the reasons I started this blog was to develop myself as a person, through the artistic expression of my fears and desires. Another was to meet people... well, female people (to be precise). It didn't have to be a lot of people, just a nice little circle of soul mates with whom I could share deep, meaningful discussions.

From my previous post, you can see that I have "achieved" my latter goal (I am not happy with the past tense, because it is, I hope, still an active process) and I have also enjoyed a wider circle of acquaintances who have provided companionship as well as a mirror. Regarding the former goal, I feel that I have lifted the fog on some of my demons, and as my sweetheart might phrase it: I no longer want to kill my demons; I just wish to make them happy.

He asked me the question recently around whether I might have outgrown my captions. Perhaps I phrased that poorly. It is more that captioning no longer poses enough of a challenge for me. I fear that he might be right. However, now comes Ayesha, informing me (much to my surprise) that I have turned a corner, and am finally heading in the right direction. What is a captioner... sorry, what is a writer to do?

I think about the small-b bimbos in all their boobified glory, and conclude: this is the nightmare. Helpless, submissive and dumb. It is the woman-child, or at least my masculine conception of her. Does she still turn me on? Being trapped in a shell with an outlandish exterior than is so degrading yet impossible to overcome. The twisted reflection of the rationale male: calm, confident and in control. It is no accident that most of my recent captioned have involved "dominant" men.

I still want the boobies and the latex. What I really want, as Ayesha so accurately describes, is to walk into a room and have all eyes turn on me. Male, female, gay and straight, to be swept off their feet by my radiant feminine charm. Back when I was still dressing, I never became an airheaded tart. When I donned my tight skirts and floor length dresses, I became a creature of elegance and desire. Still, a part of me persisted that I had to be slavish and demur... but why?

I set on a mission to reach the depths of my fantasy, and maybe I have actually succeeded. Here I am, sitting in the basement, and what... do I continue digging? Let me put that another way: should I keep churning out the same old themes? How many ways are there to skin a cat? I think the prudent thing to do is grab hold of the source and change its stream. The basement is flooded. Let's subvert the flow and take a look at the natural landscape.

The fact that this idea feels so painful to me is more the reason that it is probably the right thing to do. I still plan on captioning, and on turning both myself and all you depraved little perverts on, but it has to be different now. I have to walk a little bit outside of my comfort zone, and... well, I don't want to give it all away (actually, I am very frightened and haven't got a clue).

In any case, while I spend the next few weeks sorting things through, you will be pleased to know that I have a nice li'l backlog of red hot caps burning a hole through my hard drive. I shall be posting them periodically, along with my usual accounts and opinions.

This one has actually being laying about for several months, but I have kept in under wraps for some reason. The woman in the mirror reminds me of Ayesha somehow. Anyway, I have said more than enough… Enjoy!

Kayla at the Bat

2009-12-15T10:27:00.000-08:00

Recently, a good friend of mine (who shall remain nameless) wrote me a very thoughtful e-mail about another good friend of mine, the incomparable Ayesha. I understand that she was only trying to be helpful, and I am truly grateful for her kindness, but make no mistake about it, I consider it an honor and a privilege to have Ayesha’s presence on my blog.

Ayesha has her own particular way of challenging assumptions and to label her a gadfly would be too far an understatement. There really are no words to describe her, although many people are all too willing to write her off as just a basic troll. Do so at your own risk. Not for fear of anything she might do to you (although what she could do is substantial) but for the lost opportunity of missing her message. She is a gift to this blog and to all of you. Rather than feel insulted or defensive with what she puts forward, I would advise you to consider each of her carefully crafted words and reflect on the source of your feelings and beliefs.

Having said all that, I must also extend a hug to my dear Perfect Lips and his various incarnations (check out his latest blog in my links section). I cannot imagine someone more different than Ayesha, while being so strong and exquisite. Together or apart, they are two of my most powerful muses and I am eternally grateful for having them in this sphere I call home.

I think this calls for a subtlyamiss update: she finally wrote me! What a blessed relief. Her depth and clarity is astounding, and… gadzooks, what can I say? I still do not know her that well, but I see such limitless potential. I cannot wait to find the time to make my own thoughtful reply, but in the meantime, she is challenging me to examine the nature of communication and how meaningful ideas are conveyed.

Finally (last but not least) we come to the remarkable K@T. I have sung her praises in the past, but perhaps not adequately. You may remember her from the delicious picture she drafted for yours truly. It remains one of the dearest treasures I will take away from this whole blogging experience. Anyway, aside from being unbelievably talented, she is also a very sweet doll. She shared with me this picture (which I believe is now heading her own blog) and kindly allowed me to provide some words.

Please enjoy… I have some exciting new caps in the works, and will try to get one or two out before the new year.

Addicted to Dresses (Part 3)

2009-12-07T08:50:00.000-08:00

I hate writing these things. I know I've complained about this before, and I probably will again, but I cannot help seeing them as necessary evils. Perhaps if I were one of those captioners who whipped one off every day or so, I could get away with straight posting. But I'm not, and I can't. For better or worse, this is my blog.

I mean, come on... Astrology? “Counter-arousal”? Who do I think I'm kidding? Anyway, I would like to thank Ayesha for inadvertently helping me through this particular bout of writers block. On her blog, she recently posted her Top Ten Questions of Life. I found them so compelling, that I simply had to take my own crack it:

Q#00: Why do so many men want to be a slut?
Answer: Because they cannot stop playing with their thingies and yearn for a lifestyle where self-indulgence is rewarded.

Q#01: Why do male creatures adore silly bimbos and giggling sluts?
Answer: Well, as for this particular male creature, he grew up being ignored by silly bimbos, and felt the sluts were giggling at him. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, he grew up thinking.

Q#02: Why do mainstream femdoms want their subs to act like dogs?
Answer: Probably because they were abused as children, and are acting out revenge fantasies.

Q#03: Why would you want to show your cock in your profile?
Answer: Ew, gross! Why indeed?

Q#04: Why is hypnotizing, or being hypnotized so wonderful?
Answer: Because it alleviates any sense of guilt or shame (i.e. “oh no, I am not a depraved little pervert... s/he is MAKING me act this way!”)

Q#05: Why are most people so quiet when visiting blogs and social networks?
Answer: I have been asking myself this same question for nearly two years. The best answer I came up with is that their hands are too busy to adequately type.

Q#06: Why are there a zillion more males wanting to be a woman, than females wanting to be a man?
Answer: Simply put, a young boy can stand in front of a mirror with his penis between his legs and pretend he is a girl. The rest follows.

Q#07: Why is their a disproportional amount of lesbians online?
Answer: You ever hear about those frogs that spontaneously change their sex when the balance is disproportional? So many horny men and so few willing females, it reaches a point where you do what you can to take what your can get.

Q#08: Why do so many males keep insisting they're dominant
Answer: Something to do with that yin-yang thing I remember reading about.

Q#09: Why do so many females constantly tell other females, they're in love with them.
Answer: Pass.

Q#10: Why are most women potentially smarter than males, but actually more stupid?
Answer: This sounds like a loaded question, but what the heck... I would say that females are starting to catch up. Indeed, I believe that high school girls have begun to surpass boys in terms of math and science, as well as university enrolment. It is only a matter of time before they realize that males are superfluous and we can simply be farmed for our sperm.

Wow, this was actually fun! What problems in life cannot be solved by a Top 10 List?

But back to business: we have another sequel in store for us today. This time, the third part of an apparently ongoing series... I hope you like it. As for my Subtlyamiss update, still no word from her after weeks and weeks. This is doing wonders for my persecution complex. Fortunately, whenever I am feeling down, I can look at my legions of Mesmerized Slaves and Devoted Perverts, and put myself back in the game.

Enjoy!

2009-11-23T11:11:00.000-08:00

It's time for me to dispel a little myth, namely that I am obsessed with the question why. It is true that I like to seek answers, to understand the causes behind my condition, and why not? (See, that's a slightly different question.) There is so much confusion out there, such that having TG fantasies means that you should live them, or even more extreme, start taking hormones with an eye towards surgery. There is so much pain and suffering, and so little helpful information

Back to my so-called obsession: Look at any one of my captions and you will see a running theme: the absence of why, or how. Okay, sometimes there might be an obscure reference as to “why” our hero was chosen for transformation, but the methods and mechanisms surrounding his change are cloudy at best. I imagine some weird amalgam of magic and science, but it can be whatever you want it to be. The cause is not important as much as the consequences.

Now, I have been blogging for nearly two years. I take it to be an unstated but clear assumption that my heroes always, always struggle with their circumstances. The more twisted and sick the outcome (within certain bounds) the deeper the conflict and, subsequently, the arousal. Sometimes I like to play with this line between struggle and defeat by using the element of finality, but this is simply an illusion. It should be understood that there is no such thing as endings.

This next caption owes its existence to an awesome person that I've recently met, and want so badly to be my friend. It's ironic, that while I’ve been trying so hard to get her attention, there is another friend who I've been neglecting, who I must thank for providing the picture (you know who you are, boo-boo).

Anyway, it's a sequel, and I hope you like it (Ayesha, you might want to close your eyes for this one).

Waking Up

2009-11-17T15:17:00.000-08:00

Misogyny. It is not a word that we like to think about very much, but there is no denying that we are actively engaged in the misogynistic representation of women. Does it make any difference that we imagine ourselves in the subjugated role? Think about some horrible racial, ethnic or cultural stereotype. Now imagine that you are sexuality attracted by the thought of being said stereotype – is it still bigotry?

Does it make any difference that millions of men enjoy pornography, visit strip clubs and the like? Are we not better than them? Well, let’s say on a scale from one to ten they represent one in terms of sleaziness. Would you be happy knowing that you rate a lofty two? We expect more from our friends, our families and the world at large, so why not start expecting more from ourselves?

Boy, this is tough. What is a pervert to do? We suffer from an addiction and it is harmful, to our bodies, minds, lives and livelihoods, but like alcoholics, sudden withdrawal can have serious, if not lethal consequences. This is why I struggle so hard to figure out what makes me the way that I am, when perhaps the more accurate question is what makes my addiction the way that it is.

The captioning does help, and the blogging does help. By sharing with you, and you sharing back, I have managed to learn more about myself… er, my addiction (so easy to confuse the two) and why things happen the way that they do. For example, when Ayesha shared her recent comments, my first instinct was to deny, deny, deny. I mean, she was only talking about one of my captions, but surely a thorough review of my archives would reveal… well, it would reveal that all my subjects are rendered utterly helpless and completely dependant on some mother/father figure. Good lord, she was right!

Why am I so afraid of being autonomous and taking control of my destiny? I needed acceptance as a child, and envied girls for the type of attention they garnered. I also learned to resent them and wished to debase them, but was held in check by my respect and awe of women. This is just the tip of the iceberg, but all the pieces fit. Somewhere down the line, my sexual fantasy became a refuge, a shell, a way of dealing with the cruelties of the world. Subtlyamiss has commented that perversion becomes a perpetuating cycle of positive reinforcement, with no internal impetus for breaking. I am thinking more and more that she was right, too.

Again, what is a pervert to do? I am still turned on by TG fantasy and probably always will be. Do I just need to accept my circumstances and make the best of things? I will keep blogging, and writing, for now. In the meantime, I need to do more thinking.

On that note…

Star Pupil

2009-11-05T12:57:00.001-08:00

UPDATE: Revised caption (see comments)

Astrology is a funny thing. Developed at a time when the constellations were indeed constant, immutable fixtures in the sky, today we understand how a simple voyage through the stars would change our perception of relative positions, reducing their absolute meaning to nothing.

It is indeed a very funny thing. Often abused and misused to explain things in the here and now, its true value lies in the cultural deposit of our civilization. As our ancestors moved from place to place, or traversed generations through time, the stars did not change. They served a valuable purpose for many thousands of years: from navigation to storytelling; from agriculture to architecture; from commerce to religion.

I am often fascinated by the range of views on this topic. On the one hand, astrology is our guide through history. If you do not understand the stars, then you really do not understand why people did the things they did, from the very large to the insignificant. On the other hand, we still amuse ourselves with things like horoscopes, as if we forgot that the earth revolves around the sun, the universe is expanding, etc, etc, etc.

I do like to mock such people who take astrology too seriously, but likewise admonish those who do not take it seriously enough. It is like our conception of god. To me, they are essentially the same: powerful sources of influence and inspiration; entirely invented by humans; useful evolutionary tools that are no longer relevant; archaic concepts that say more about ourselves than “objective” reality.

I cannot recall the exact figure, but for the past 20,000 to 200,000 years, basic human physiology has not changed. Our bodies are “designed” to be active and crave certain foods, which wrecks havoc in our contemporary urban lifestyles (this is one of the things that causes me to believe that genetic manipulation and technological modification of our bodies is inevitable, but I digress). Similarly, we are “programmed” to attach higher meaning to external events, even though the impetus for doing so has long since departed.

So what does this have to do with sexual perversion? Good question. Let me turn the tables a bit and look at science for a moment. Despite its noble aims and failsafe methods, it depends on theory to make the connection between observable phenomena and predictable truth. Somewhere in that equation comes the human element. We are part of the universe as much as any concrete system, but we act as though we do not really belong, as if we were some divine observer, separate and removed.

We try so hard to be objective or impartial, but that is impossible. One way or another, our human instinct will make itself heard. Take the Big Bang Theory: an orgasmic explosion at the start of time, a cosmic birth. How does this not smell fishy? As more mysterious constructs begin to emerge, I think people are finally starting to realize that the nature of the universe does not necessarily align with our own unconscious fears and desires. Still, I suspect that once String Theory and all its various incarnations play themselves out, we will still find our human bias somewhere deep inside, manipulating our most fundamental perceptions and assumptions

We are sexual creatures. It is through our sexuality that we connect with the world and come to terms with ourselves and its broader meaning. What you say about your sexuality says a lot about who you are, as a person. Are you at peace with the world, do you find it simple and predictable? Is it complex and multifaceted, mysterious and unfathomable? I suspect we would have more luck understanding the basic forces of nature than why I want to wear a leather corset.

As I write this, a couple of very interesting comments have arrived on my previous posting. The first is from subtlyamiss, who has absolutely no right being so intelligent and articulate at half my age. It goes to show that education, age and experience are such minor factors, if not deterrents, for understanding the subtleties of existence. The second is from Ayesha, who rightfully states that life is for enjoying, and we are ultimately answerable to none but ourselves.

I do think that probing questions (that’s a nice, neutrally-charged adjective) can be a healthy and invigorating exercise, much in the spirit that subtlyamiss takes it, but we have to appreciate that it is just a game and should not to be taken too seriously. It is natural to search for answers, but we will never really find any to our satisfaction. We have to learn to accept who are, and make the best of this one life we are given.

Well, I sure don’t have the answer, that’s for certain. All I have is some amusing little caps. I hope you like this next one… I wrote it just for you!

Addicted to Dresses (Part 2)

2009-10-26T09:53:00.000-07:00

Folks, I have to be honest. I'm really not a big huge fan of these little blurbs. I would much rather spend my time on twisted tales of perversion than mundane aspects of reality. Just the other week, I decided to bear down and apply some serious thought, and ended up obsessing for hours on end, until my arguments completely unraveled and I was left feeling like my wiggles got caught in an electrical socket.

*grumble*

Okay, fine! This is what I was trying to say: orgasm denial is a common aspect of masturbation. I mean, once you come, the party's over, so why not stretch it out for as long as possible? To the seasoned professional, this is something of an art. You not only stretch it, but keep yourself on the brink, brink, brink... and don't go over until it is absolutely necessary.

So this is where my theory begins: the fledgling pervert will employ several tools to delay the inevitable, and one of them is what I call "counter-arousal." Basically, just when you are about to come, you present yourself with an idea that is so outrageous, so repulsive that it takes you down a notch or two. Of course, if it’s too repulsive, you lose the urge entirely, and that's even worse.

Do you see where I'm going with this? For most of the male population, the idea of being girl is more than enough to cause instant shrinkage. Maybe it used to be the same way for us. Maybe we started with a relatively safe idea, such as wearing panties, and used it as a tool to extend our masturbatory pleasure. Over time, the so-called repulsive thought actually became part of the fantasy itself. Like any addict, we acquired immunity and were forced to up the dosage.

(There is more to my theory, but it is around this point that things start to get a bit messy).

Anyway, enjoy your caption. It's a sequel, I think.

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Welcome to the Dollhouse

2009-10-09T09:58:00.000-07:00

Hello, Devoted Perverts!

And a special hello to my Mesmerized Slaves. As for the rest of you, well... I think you have more reading to do. Be sure to check out my archives, and we'll have you mincing in step with all these other reprobates.

Wow. I am simply thrilled with all the kind words that have been flowing in. It is my honor and privilege to help fill your panties every week (or two) and contribute to our increasingly sexualized mind-space. Bravi!

Speaking of panties, I am pleased to announce that we have a genuine girl in our midst -- welcome! Now, it is not my habit to draw such unsolicited attention to one of my Devoted Perverts (would Mesmerized Slave be too much to ask?) but I am just tickled pink every time I meet a pink tickler who digs my groovy vibe. I kinda see it as the ultimate compliment, y'know?

So I must be doing something right. By the way, last weeks caption was dedicated to a special snowy friend of mine, who kinda makes me feel like the girl in the picture. This next caption is dedicated to a real life Candy Cane that I used to know, and to all those other girls who understand and support what boys like me are going through.

And now, for your stimulation...

Getting To Know You

2009-09-30T08:54:00.000-07:00

Good news, Brendites! Your dear, sweet, captioness-extraordaire has been slaving over a hot computer and managed to crank out a fresh new batch of perverted captions, enough to take us into the bright and shiny new year! The bad news is that you’ll have to wait, week by pelvis-wrenching week (or two). Pleasure is so much better when mixed with pain, no?

But it's not like you don't deserve it. As usual, I have been completely underwhelmed by the level of response on this blog. One day, you will grow up and have a blog of your own, and then you will know how it feels. On the other hand, perhaps it is a compliment that you are too busy with your hands to type any comments. And how can I expect you to string two words together when I am working so hard to transform you all into mindless bimbos?

Am I victim of my own success?

Yes, I think it's true. You see, all this blithe gabber, endless complaining and pseudo-philosophy is just my way of transmitting subliminally-encoded messages, rewiring your brain even as you read this very sentence... okay, I'd better stop, just because I know some of you may actually be taking this seriously.

I cannot transform you! I repeat: I cannot transform you! So please stop bugging me, okay? I have deep, deep sympathy for your plight, but do you actually think that if I had the power to make you grow a set of boobs that I would be wasting my time on this blog? Think about it.

While you're searching for some leftover brain cells, please check out my brand new poll (not to be confused with my old well-used pole, which is another matter entirely). It has been such a long time since my last one, hasn’t it? Or are you so new here that you have no recollection? Well, that is exactly what I want to find out!

In the meantime, please divert yourself with the following trifle... it's not much, really… just another soul-searing account of my wounded psychosis.

Enjoy!

Addicted to Dresses

2009-09-22T11:02:00.000-07:00

Is it possible to live a normal, full and rounded life as a simpering crossdresser? The answer, unfortunately, is no. It is difficult to meet your friends for coffee when you are helplessly trapped in outrageous and degrading latex dresses, brain hopelessly washed into a state of mindless obedience and dependency. No, the barista will look away in repulsion as you teeter up to the counter in your impossible heels and lisp your order through garishly inflated lips.

Or so I thought. I saw something the other day which I suspect has grown ever more common: a group of normal, young, heterosexual boys all congregated together, except that one of them happened to be dressed in a pretty little outfit, long hair dyed an unmistakable pink (emo, I think they call it). It made me wonder if the times indeed are a'changing, or if this was just the latest version of those goth freaks we have seen in one incarnation or another since at least the early eighties.

Now, I do not wish to give the impression that your dear, sweet, bimbofied Brenda is anything less than a young, virile and “hip” youngster. It’s just that the generations do turn over much quicker these days, and I often wonder about those kids who are being weaned on the internet, and how they will grow up believing about self and identity. I know that I am far from being the only one. I also know that I share frustration with many my age about being young, but not quite young enough to reap the fruits of this silent revolution taking place.

On the other hand, perhaps the so-called revolution is no more than the collective dreams and imaginings of elder sissies like myself, idealizing some massive gathering of creative energies forced to stew and simmer in the online virtual gaming community, occasionally peeking its head out, seductively, if only to gasp for air. Although I do see greater evidence these days of magic, science and possession in the mass entertainment industry, it all seems to fall teasingly short of actually broaching the notions of gender change and transformation.

So what does this mean, and why must I keep asking these same tired questions? I guess a part of me is afraid the day will never come, when our darkest dreams and deepest fantasies become achievable and real, but another part is afraid that someday it may. The world needs to know what it has in store, about the twisted possibilities just around the corner. Will they be good? Bad? Who knows, but if we do not start asking the right questions, then pretty soon they will be answered for us. Needless to say, history does not bode well in this regard.

Right now, I figure we are about halfway to understanding the situation. It is up to you and me to explore and discover the next half or, again, it will be written for us... and how, exactly, have you enjoyed your role so far? I suppose that I envy the young because their path to absolution and involvement seems so much clearer and shorter than my own, but I also suspect that their own particular struggles are far more difficult and complex than I can really imagine. We are all just human, after all... and what is happiness, anyway?

There is just one thing that I need to explain time and again, that the “girls” in my caption are not happy, no matter how much they may try to convince you otherwise. Sure, they are aroused, manipulated and sometimes even gratified... but essentially, they are just like you and me: confused, afraid, and just a little bit hopeful that things will get better, even (especially?) when they are getting worse.

I hope you enjoy my latest caption and thank you for your patience, for waiting so long. You will be happy to know that more should arriving periodically over the next few weeks.

Brenda the Stripper

2009-08-18T08:34:00.001-07:00

I was educating a friend recently on what it means to be TG. Well, she was not so much a friend as someone I met on Miss Bimbo who thought I might be an interesting chat. All was going fine until I asked her to look at my blog, and then I never heard from her again.

It is so easy to forget that we are really such freaks, when so much of our time and energies are engaged with other freaks in freakish activities. It forces me remember that our impetus is essentially rooted in humiliation. It is easy to forget, particularly when the heart is pumping and blood is flowing, how much in it resembles sexual arousal.

How much more to mind control than the simple act of forgetting, of overcoming your inhibitions and rendering onself immune to humiliation? Who wants to remember the pain and suffering that led us to down this path the first place? You might say this is something you would have wanted to do anyway, but then who is fooling who?

As a child, furitively rummaging through our sisters/mothers/crossdressing uncles clothes, so much stress is involved in not getting caught, and returning said clothes in pristine condition to their initial place. As we get older, we might develop our own wardrobe and some modicum of privacy, but still the act of undressing remains hurried and, well… humiliating. Hardly the victorious athlete returning his equipment to the locker.

What could be more liberating for the crossdresser than getting onstage and deliberately stripping for the hungry eyes of his male audience? In the darkened club sits every guy who mocked and teased you, now expressing their unquenchable desire for you (yes, you) to come fulfill their kinkiest fantasies. As you release each garment, they do not see your sunken chest and pale boyish skin, but rather smooth curves and round breasts. The clothes have done their duty and transformed you into the ideal form of its wearer. You may proudly discard them like so many used tissues.

Limitless thanks to K@t for providing the amazing portrait of yours truly. Not only is she smart, funny and deliciously twisted, but she possesses the uncanny abilities of getting inside your head and pulling out just the right image. Oh yes, she also draws really, really well. If you have not done so already, I strongly recommend that you visit her site and drop a line or two. With her help, maybe you can find out exactly what kind of sissy you are.

Unit D43-209

2009-07-17T09:56:00.001-07:00

Here at Big Tits Central, we are always on the prowl for fresh new perspectives and ideas. In our tightly-knit TG community, it is easy to forget that there’s a world of kinks, fetishes and perversions (KFPs?) outside our own. Case in point: it was recently my great honor and esteemed pleasure to meet the incomparable Ms Latex of Doll's realm fame. If you have not visited her site, I highly recommend that you do so right away... best of all, she is a real, live, genetic girl!

Now, those of you paying attention would have realized that I am heavy, heavy into the rubber fetish. I think it is the Grand Duchess, Divine Empress, Commander-in-Chief of all the KFPs. One day I may tell more about my new religion, but for now I would like to focus on Ms Latex. Now, don't let the respectful moniker fool you (it's a pseudonym, donchu know) for she is just as twisted and perverse as the rest of us, with fantasies of being totally encased from head to toe and transformed into a living doll.

The thing I find interesting, and would like to talk about today, is how two completely different genders (or biological sexes, if you must) could want the exact same things for themselves. I mean, I'm taking 'bout the sleek body, mind control, sexual objectification and all that jazz. Really, the only difference is that Group A begins the story as male, and Group B as female: the end result is completely indistinguishable.

So what does this mean? Well, there is a certain theory on sexuality that breaks down the traditional definitions of homosexual, heterosexual, bisexual, etc. and focuses solely on the object of desire, as opposed to the subject-object relation. In other words, the theory does not distinguish between a man loving a woman and a woman loving a woman: they are both gynephiles. (This may be ringing a few bells with some of you: it is this same theory that gave us the term autogynephile, the love of one's self as a woman).

Do you see the connection? Are there woman out there who are essentially TG, without the transgender? To put it in reverse, are we simply, uh... (help, I do not what to call them! Living girl dolls?) who just happen to be male? Is the only difference our starting gender, and is the sex change simply an added but necessary device to bring us towards the same goal?

Now, of course I am simplifying things a bit. After all, not all TGs are into rubber. Furthermore, many of the TGs who are, such as me, enjoy added elements of humiliation and degradation that I don't think flies too well with most genetic girls. I guess what I'm trying to do is find some common ground, a common term, like the one I was at a loss to find up above (see: help!)

I am sure this topic will come up again soon. In the meantime, I welcome your thoughts on the matter.

Also, to help demonstrate my point a little further, I have a very special caption for you today, dedicated to the inestimable Ms Latex, whom I thank for the image. Please forgive the black and white quality, but I think you'll agree it was too juicy to resist. Just pretend your eyes are as blurry as poor, dear Annie.

Enjoy!

An Unusual Remedy

2009-07-03T13:58:00.000-07:00

Miss me, darlings?

I wish I could say that it's good to be back, but truth be told, I can't seem to break free. I just can't stop thinking about all those flaccid little members, piles of dry panties and unused tissues just waiting to be soiled... it breaks my heart.

I know how it feels to be trapped in the never-ending cycle of web pages, desperate for something new, resigned to nothing better. It's why I entered this game in the first place, why I started this blog. My ultimate goal was to have my own harem of devoted little sycophants, under my thrall and primed for obedience. Alas, instead, I'm just another cog in the machine of broken promises.

So be it. I am truly grateful that so many of you still continue to visit, despite the dearth of content in recent weeks. Perhaps most of you are just passing through, but some of you might actually read (or re-read) a cap or two, and maybe even deposit your load on my psychic real estate (hopefully against your will!) This makes me truly happy.

Even happier is the thought that some my stories may have gotten through to you, and forced you to assess exactly who you are, what you want, and why you seek out such unusual remedies. I love to talk about concepts and ideas, and hope that you will share with me how your fantasies have evolved over the years, and how this has affected your own self-perception.

At the very least, we have a brand new caption for your wanking pleasure. Please read, enjoy, and dream of me tonight…

No Caps Today!

2009-06-05T20:47:00.000-07:00

Hello, my little sissies! As the title would indicate, there are no sexy captioned pictures to meet your little perversions today. There might be some tomorrow. Or next week. Who knows?

I am only online today to fix an unfortunate spam attack on my humble little blog. Dimunitives aside, I am appalled how these conniving little vultures wreck their menace on the hard work of others (namely me). Now we all suffer. Where is the fun in that?

For those of you who are viewing for the first time, kindly puruse my archives. There you will find hours of fun! You see, this blog of mine is fairly uninspired.: I simply post 'em through the flow of time; marked by the days are the incarnations of my soul.

I ne'er did do well in poetry class.

For those of you in the know... congratulations! You deserve an award for your persistance. Let me share with you an e-mail I recently received:

I love you

I think you are amazing and I want to be just like you.

Isn't that the sweetest thing? It just makes my imaginary pussy tingle with excitement. That's right: imaginary, as in imagery, as in that image you see up in the banner and attached to my profile is not me. Sorry to burst your bubble sunshine. I am just an ordinary, run-of-the-mill Joe Six-Pack, just like the rest of you.

However, if it is my extraordiary writing ability to which my admirer is referring, then la-de-da! You CAN be me: all it takes is some thirty years of hearbreak, failed expectations and broken promises. Congratulations! Now you TOO can write captions. But no captions today. Nope. Maybe later, not today.

Sorry.

Where am I?

2009-05-07T14:42:00.000-07:00

Presenting to you today, another two for the price of one. Considering how infrequently I post these days, I figure this is least I could to assuage your bottomless hunger.

The theme, of course, is “Where am I?” Strangely enough, I had never intended to group these two captions together, nor had I consciously set out to use this phrase twice -- but there you have it.

Interesting how in one caption the hero asks this question at the beginning, and in the other, at the end; how in one caption the hero’s internal voice has been rendered completely useless, and in the other, it turns against him.

Anyway, don’t get me started dissecting my own work… masturbation is my forte, both physically and intellectually. Speaking of which, I miss my good friends, cuddly wuddly barbie bunny and the sensual god of lips and fingers (what a dreamboat!) – sorry babies for not being in touch lately. I am kind of in a place right now, but I think about you lots and love you even more.

Okay, then… fellow Brendites, get your hankies ready, because here comes trouble!

Two-for-One Special

2009-04-06T14:50:00.000-07:00

Fear of blogging has reared its ugly head once more. Please spare me your sympathies, andturn your eyes instead to the captions below, and do me the favor of wanking yourselves not once, but twice (or more)... come on, do it for Brenda! Make a big ol' mess, it will make me so very happy!

Yeah, I figure it's been so long I should make up for lost time by posting a couple, rather than my usual one. I still have three or so more sitting on the back burner, awaiting final tune-ups (to mix metaphors). This could take hours, days, weeks... who knows? And what comes next? Wish I could tell you.

Could this be the end of Brenda Big Tits?

Ehh, probably not. Let's be realistic. An aging sissy never does not die, she just fades away... speaking of which, I have decided: I really do not like the term "sissy". I never really liked it. At least, not for me. I see a sissy in frills and lace and bows... all fine things, but I more about tight latex, sky-scraper heels, robotic devices and such... not really much "sissy" about that, now is there?

Hey, why don't some of you try to come up with a better name ("Brendites" is good, but lacks mass appeal). Maybe the winner will get a special prize. Ah, who am I kidding... bunch of lurkers, all of you! Right now, all that matters is that in five to ten minutes, you will all be a bunch of creamy, wet lurkers!

BWAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Stage Two

2009-03-16T08:57:00.000-07:00

My poor little darlings, has it really been so long since my last update? Hope you have not been ruining your makeup, crying your eyes out waiting for me.

Not much for me to say today, other than please enjoy your latest sissy-fix. I shall try to update again sometime later this week, and hopefully a few of my brain seeds will have ripened by then.

Oh yes, I just remembered one thing I wanted bring up with you: it has come to my attention that several of you are using the word "sissy" to describe ourselves. Personally, I have always favored the term "TG" (actually, "autogynephillic" would be most accurate, if not too clinical) but now I am thinking that I may have cast the net too wide. Anyway, I have a few thoughts on this matter, but I am still playing around with them, and hopefully I will have something fleshed out by my next post.

In the meantime, please do not be shy to share your thoughts with me.... and I just have to say: sissy, sissy, sissy! Sissy Captions! Sissy Captions! Your home for Sissy Captions! (This oughta help my Google ranking).

Cheers, babies.

Introducing... Brenda BiGG Titts!

2009-03-03T15:57:00.000-08:00

Oh my, is this ever exciting! Your own dear Brenda has actually found herself at a loss for words.
...

This is UNBELIEVABLE!

My darling, sweet and ultra-shaggable friend has come through with the most amazing portrait of yours truly... it's like I'm looking in a mirror!

For those of you sleeping a cave, I am speaking of the brilliant, amazing and uber-talented K@T of lustomic fame. Feast your eyes, my dumplings... and while you're at it, why not check out her new blog or even take a meander at her deviant art page?

Obviously, this is still a work in progress... but if Brenda plays her cards right (and clears a payment or two) then soon we might be looking at her gargantuan tits in full color! Keep your fingers crossed, babies.

(And don't forget to leave a comment for K@T to say how much you love her)

MMMMMMWWWWAAAHHH!!!

The New Recruit (a.k.a. Big Sister is Watching)

2009-02-25T16:45:00.000-08:00

Greetings, fellow Brendites! Feeling the need to make you cute little uniforms with flippy miniskirts and stuffed blouses. You can earn merit badges through various sissy tasks like shopping, flirting, makeup, and coc-- er, I think I'd better stop right there (this is a family site, donchu know).

Anyway, this all sounds like a segue to my latest caption. I really like this one and hope that you do too.

Before I leave you to do that thing you do best, just want to offer a shout out to my adorable li'l bunnykins... you know who you are. Brenda loves you, baby!

[This Space For Rent]

.

Suited for Skirts (Part Two)

2009-02-19T14:26:00.000-08:00

Surprise, surprise, surprise! Betcha didn’t see this one coming… a second part to our bodysuit adventure, with our dear little Simone (nee Simon) looking very comfortable with her new status.

Incidentally, for those of you who haven’t caught on yet, pretty well all of my captions are written in the Mind Control theme, with a dash of humiliation thrown in for good measure. This is pretty much why I haven’t bothered with the whole labeling system. I thought about it once, but gave up rather quickly.

Anyway, I have been meaning to talk about my latest poll which has been lingering around for a while now. So thank you, once more, for participating: around three-quarters of you had a favorable reaction to CYOTV, fairly evenly divided between loving it (give me more!) and enjoying it, but thinking it is time to move on, at least for a little while. To put it another way, three-fifths of you want me to try something new… so the majority wins.

I look forward to returning to CYOTV one day, perhaps continuing the story or following a parallel arc, or maybe starting somewhere else completely different. I might even check in with Becky every once in a while, just to see how she’s doing. However, in the meantime, please enjoy my continuing series of one-shots, which will have to tide you over until I find the energy to try something new.

Please keep the comments coming and help relieve me of my desperate loneliness! Good gracious, you’d think with two of us occupying this body, all would be moon-pies… but, as you know, it is not.

Suited for Skirts

2009-02-17T13:58:00.000-08:00

Woe be unto us all... it appears your favorite li'l captioning site has been infected by a meme! You can thank my perfect little friend for this one. This is how it goes:

You leave a comment (asking for a letter) on this post, and I’ll assign you a letter. You write about ten things you love that begin with your assigned letter, and post it at your place. When people comment on your list, you give them a letter, and the chain continues on and on.

Oh, the horror! Your poor dear Brenda was afflicted with the letter "A" and now she must bear her apperceptions for the appraisal of others. So here it is:

Asses -- or arses, for our British contingents. Big and round, wrapped tightly in latex... yum.

Anticipation -- better than the actual event, the best thing there is... except it makes me think of that awful Carly Simon song, which I have been unable to shake from head.

Airplanes -- I love travelling by air. I love everything about it. I even miss those awful meals they used to serve. I just wish I could travel more often.

Approval -- The one thing I seek above all else. I know that it's wrong to be so reliant on the opinions of others, but I can't help it.

Alcohol -- straight vodka is the best, smooth as water. Or maybe it's a nice expensive sake, the type you can only find in Japan. Of course, fine brandy just can't be beat...

Animation -- the earliest form of motion picture, a true artform, just recently getting the widespread recognition it deserves.

Aerosol cans -- who doesn't love a good spritz? One of life's little pleasures.

Avacados -- not too hard, not overripe. It is the king of the superfoods, which just happens to look like a testicle.

Affection -- what was that I was saying about approval? This one rings in a close second.

Astronomy -- on the brink of a unified theory, proving once again that the universe is an exciting place to live in.

So there you go *sob* my soul on a platter for your voracious eyeballs.

I... I am so despondent, I almost don't have it in me to post my latest caption.

*choke*

But then again, maybe I do. Hope you like it, my sweet little girlings! My first attempt at the whole bodysuit motif. Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy!

CYOTV: An Interview with Becky Braless (Part Two)

2009-02-12T10:31:00.000-08:00

Be careful what you wish for because you might just get it...? That used to be a perfectly acceptable cliché until a bunch of tarts started dancing to it in stilettos... not that I have anything against tarts in stilettos, mind you... I guess I'm just jealous.

The questions have just been pouring in! So many, in fact, that I have decided to call our good friend Becky Braless back to the studio to answer them in person. So please sit back and enjoy part two of our (ongoing?) interview series, and remember to keep those questions coming! Feel free to leave your questions in the comments section below, or send them to me personally and I'll be sure to pass them on.

Thank you for agreeing to participate again, Becky. It's good to have you back.

It's good to be back, Brenda!

Let's see, where to begin... what did it feel like to have your mind and body twisted into something else?

Oh my, that is an interesting question, Brenda! It felt quite sugary, thank you! *giggle* But seriously, my body wasn't “twisted” really. It was more like one minute I'm completely frozen (which was quite an odd experience, I must say), then I sort of drift off into nothingness or something, and the next minute I'm suddenly in a body again.

You know, for the first few moments, I didn't even realize that I was back inside a body, much less a different one! I mean, I was completely shut out from all my senses... it's hard to describe. It was like “here I am drifting in blackness... la, la, la... oh no, I have to breathe!” You know what I mean? It was really, really scary. Anyway, once I caught my breath, my heart began pounding and I started to feel all hot and sweaty. It actually took me a while to figure out that I wasn't a man anymore... that type of stuff is kinda on the lower end of things when you think you're going to die!

I guess the same sort of thing happened with my mind... I didn't really notice at first that I was thinking any differently, but then when my heart began to calm down, I just started feeling sooooo horny, and I really couldn't think of anything else! When it did sink in that I was actually a woman, all that really mattered was bringing myself to orgasm... or at least as close to orgasm as I could possibly get.

I spent so long in the dark... I really have no idea how long it was, and I can barely remember anything I did while I was under. I didn't really feel like “myself” again until I woke up on the ceiling in that crazy costume. It was so confusing at first, but it just felt so good to be able to see, hear, touch, taste and smell again! And then when I stood up, and found myself in the warm summer air... oh, bliss! I should have just enjoyed myself... oh why did I go behind that dark, smelly curtain?

Sorry, where was I? Oh yes, the moment of my final trap was probably the worst. It felt awful... just awful... but I am really very happy now! So happy and girly and bouncy and sexy! Oh, I just love being a girl!

Um, yes... so, are you restricted to just the interior of the castle, or are you allowed onto the rest of the grounds as well?

Oh, I am free to go wherever I like, Brenda... provided that is where my escort wishes to take me. I have gone swimming and horseback riding -- we have some of the most adorable ponies you have ever seen! But the limits of the grounds are very clearly defined, and I absolutely cannot leave under any circumstances.

*giggle* one of my escorts was so smitten with me, he actually tried to sneak me over the fence! He couldn't succeed, of course... but that is a story for another day.

What did you find best about being a man? And what do you now find best about being a woman?

Hmm, I think it's important to make one point clear: strictly speaking, I am not really a woman. I only kinda look like one, and act how I believe a woman should behave. I can never have babies or anything, or ever really come to full orgasm... but that is part of the curse more than anything else. You see, the longer I go without consuming male ejaculate, the hornier I become. Masturbating can soothe the hunger somewhat, but it never really goes away for any real length of time unless I... well, you know.

So to answer your question, I suppose the best thing about being a “woman” like me is having a big ol' feast, with lots of different flavors, and all you can eat! (Mmmm... I'm just thinking about the time that busload of soccer players stopped by... yummy!) As for when I was a man... well, it's kinda hard to remember a lot of the details, but I really miss coming. You know? A nice, big gusher.

Now for the last question, as submitted by our readers: what is the most enjoyable thing about being you?

Oh, good question, Brenda! There are just so many things I love about being me, it's hard to pick just one! I love all the pretty dresses I get to wear and playing naughty games with strangers... but some of our visitors have really weird tastes. I mean, mostly it's fun, but, like, this one guy gave me the most massive boobs you can imagine and made me talk in a high squeaky voice!

That doesn't sound too bad, Becky.

Hmm, true enough... but it does get annoying sometimes, losing control over your body and mind. I guess the one thing I find most enjoyable, even more than the orgies, is finding a nice sweet man who treats me like a princess, and let's me forget for a few moments that I'm really just a slave.

Why, thank you for your heartfelt answers, Becky. I know that I am touched, and I think our readers are too.

Th-thank you, Brenda. *sniff*

Oh, those saucy maids!

2009-02-10T10:42:00.000-08:00

So, you little ladies aren't much for picking up on once-in-a-lifetime opportunities, are you? I mean, so many of you responded to my latest poll, professing your love, or at least toleration, for my CYOTV series, and here I go, bending the laws of reality to let you to ask our hero any question on your little sissy minds... and nothing.

Well, almost nothing. Got some terrific responses from a few of my favorite sweethearts, but the rest of you ought to hang your skirts in shame!

For shame!

But it is not too late for redemption... once again, I shall thumb my nose at orthodoxy and violate the space-time continuum to let you take advantage of my incredible offer: click here to read my award-winning interview with Becky Braless and ask her all the saucy questions you've been dying to ask.

In the meantime, please enjoy this lovely little caption that I drafted just for you... yes, you! Oh, I do hope that you like it!

CYOTV: An Interview with Becky Braless

2009-02-06T08:24:00.001-08:00

Howdy, folks! Those of you still paying attention will remember that I promised you a surprise this week, so here it is: straight from the pages of Choose Your Own Trans-Venture, I present to you Brad Becker, or, as he is currently known, Becky Braless!

She is with us today in Big Tits Studios to answer questions about her recent miss-adventures in that miss-terious castle... and you are welcome to join in the fun! So forget your miss-givings and allow Miss Braless to clear away your miss-conceptions. Leave a comment, or send a miss-age to her very own e-mail address here. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity that you don’t want to, well... miss.

Enough of this blather. Let's get right down to business.

I am thrilled that you could join us today, Becky. Does this mean that you finally found a way out of the castle?

Oh, good heavens no, Brenda. I am quite firmly attached to the place. I don't think I shall ever be allowed to leave. But my sisters have graciously allowed me to lend a fraction of my aspect to your delightful little site.

You have referred to them your “sisters” once before. Are you one of them now? Do you consider them your equals?

Those are some good questions, Brenda. We are sisters through common cause, or purpose, but we are far from equals. Perhaps in two or three hundred years, I shall begin to acquire some of the powers that my elders possess, but for the time being, I am little more than a simple house doll.

Still, your powers are quite ample. You can personally embody a man's most intimate sexual fantasy.

Well, it's a little bit more complicated than that. To put it simply, I detect certain frequencies of masculine lust and present the appropriate feminine counterpart. I have been a maid, a bimbo, a prostitute... you get the idea. But for some reason I have been unable to summon the Mistress or Goddess personas that some of my sisters are so capable of doing.

Do you think that has anything to do with your addiction to, er... ejaculate?

Oh, undoubtedly that has a lot to do with it. I fell under a very powerful spell that essentially robbed me of my masculine essence. As you know, people are generally a mix of both the masculine and the feminine... but not me, not any more. If I do not feed my hunger regularly, I can become extremely morose and unpleasant.

Just going back a little bit to the earlier part of your adventures, are there any choices you regret? Anything you might have done differently?

Well, obviously I would not have entered the castle to begin with! At least I could have heeded the warnings of that sweet girl, and maybe turned back the way I came (although a part of me suspects it was already too late at that point).

Whatever happened to that girl? Did you ever see her again?

Oh yes, I see her all the time! We are very close... sometimes we even team up with each other for threesomes. We are not really allowed to talk about the past, but a part of me believes that she used to be a guy like me.

It has been really interesting chatting with you, Becky, but we are running out of time. Before I turn the questions over to our readers, I just have to ask: what the heck was going on with that bodysuit?

*giggle* I think the story was quite clear, Brenda! I went from a silly little man to a voracious young woman in the blink of an eye! I needed to be restrained for my own safety, especially since I still had these crazy notions of ever trying to leave the castle. As for all those weird dreams, it was clear that certain aspects of my psyche needed to be tamed. But the thing I still don't understand --

Okay, that's all the time we have for today. I am looking forward to lots of interesting questions from our devoted readers.

I look forward to them too, Brenda!

Hypno-board

2009-02-02T13:26:00.001-08:00

Hello, my darlings. The past couple weeks have been like a breath of fresh air for yours truly. I did not fully appreciate the extent to which our recent trans-ventures took its toll on my energies. There were many a-times over the past few months that I felt very much like our tightly-wound hero. But now that we are free… er, now that the story is over, I feel fresh and invigorated, and I am returning to simple captions with aplomb.

Already I have whipped off two mini-masterpieces, and I feel there are plenty more to come. Of course, I will only be posting them slowly over time. One, because I want to space things out nice and evenly; two, because I do not know when my peak will turn into a valley and I find myself bereft of new material; and three, because I enjoy teasing and tormenting the lot of you!

Call me cruel, call me sadistic… call me bitch Mistress Big Tits -- I know you want to! I know I want to be called that by you, because one thing our CYOTV has taught me is that I love holding power over you like hungry little dogs.

No, not really… well, only a little bit. You know that I love you, and without you there is no Brenda Big Tits, but I starting to understand more and more what you and I are all about. We love the pain, we love the pleasure. This continual cycle of self-gratification and abashment is what keeps us going.

I would like to dedicate this next caption to a certain flawless friend of mine, whose lips should always speak the truth, and fingers type beautifully. I imagine he would be aghast at the thought of being fitted into the sort of device described below, but also, I hope, just a little bit turned on. On that fuzzy border between fantasy and reality, there can be no dreams without an inkling of hope.

P.S. I have not forgotten about your surprise -- watch for it later this week.

Choose Your Own Trans-venture! (Part Fourteen)

2009-01-27T13:47:00.000-08:00

Surprise, my pretties! It is your favorite big-titted Brenda, a little bit earlier than usual! Since I’m mixing things up, lets throw in a few keywords to get those search engines firing: Bimbo! Sissy! Crossdresser! Forced! Feminization! Hypnosis! Mind-control! Trans! Fetish! Autogynephile!

I am in good spirits, as you can see. Why, you may ask? Thank you for asking, you adorable little panty-waist! I am happy because our very first Choose Your Own Trans-Venture is finally over! Not that I minded slaving away the endless hours, enduring sleepless nights trying to link the myriad possibilities, scouring the depths of my library for just the right image… hmmm.

I am just so pleased to finally wrap things up in a neat little bow. Often, I ask myself why I keep spending so much of my time on essentially a meaningless pursuit. Really, it is the creative process that keeps me coming… and coming, and coming, and coming (sorry, I couldn’t resist). So thank you, all of you, for participating in my little experiment and making it so much fun to check my blog for the latest tallies!

But it is not quite over yet… you will notice the familiar poll at the right side of your screen. Please take the time, once more, to provide me with your feedback – let me know if you would like more CYOTVs, if you want to take a little break, or if you never want to see them again. Also, you are in for a bit of a surprise next week… I do not want to give anything away, but let’s just say you’ll be getting a visit from a very special friend!

As for the future? Well, I am still Brenda, my tits are still big, and captioning-a-plenty is the name of the game! As I relax and unwind from these strenuous months, I will provide you with some nice little caps to get you through those cold winter nights (or, for my friends below the equator, those hot summer days). And thank you, to all of you, who continue to send me your saucy little pictures – you just might be the star of your own custom caption!

Well, here we go. One last time, the voting: some of you may have noticed that there wasn’t much of a choice this time around… good for you! It shows that your mind hasn’t totally turned to mush from reading this drivel. Poor little Brad… er, Becky is now hopelessly and irrevocably a girl, and all he wants to do is wear pretty dresses. Of course, you have to work for those dresses, Becky darling!

Without further ado, I bring you the fourteenth and final chapter of Choose Your Own Trans-Venture!

Choose Your Own Trans-venture! (Part Thirteen)

2009-01-22T14:57:00.000-08:00

I am closing the polls early this round because the results seem rather decided. I would have like to have waited, particularly this round more than others, but I plan to be away for a view days and can hardly wait to post this next chapter.

Oh, you poor fools.

Some of you caught on, that it might be a trap… I mean come on! Did you really think a latex-encased woman was going to get you out of this mess? Should not those glistening clothes have been your first hint? And the curtains… I almost spelled it out for you! Anyway, maybe the alternatives were to horrifying to contemplate.

From over 300 votes, around 60% made for “safety” behind the curtains, while the remainder split between confronting the woman and simply removing yourself from the scene. The masses have spoken.

(Incidentally, thank you everyone for sending your fabulous pictures! My apologies to everyone I have not been able to thank personally. But keep them coming... e-mail me your sexy pics and they just may be the subject of a future caption! More on this in my next post.)

Please enjoy Part Thirteen of Choose Your Own Trans-Venture!

Choose Your Own Trans-venture! (Part Twelve)

2009-01-09T11:23:00.000-08:00

I would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone for their very kind words in recent days. As you know, I have been struggling with blog-o-phobia as of late, and all your encouragement is greatly appreciated. I promise you all that I will bear down and crank out the tales that get you off so merrily!

Along a similar note, I would like to make a request from you all. In the interest of making this a truly interactive blog, I would ask all of you to send me any saucy, sexy pictures that you have burning a hole in your hard drive. Not only will this make picture-searching more interesting for me, but it will provide you with short little caption-ettes for your wanking pleasure. Anyone who provides with a picture that is used in this blog will be provided with a very special prize by yours truly. Bonus points will also be awarded to anyone who directs me to an interesting image repository or website. Just one request: nothing hardcore, please. I like to keep things family-friendly.

Click here to send me your goodies.

Okay, on to business... happy to say there was more voting this time around. From exactly 441 votes, nearly half of you kept your head together and decided to close your eyes and think about these recent changes. Less than a third of you found thinking too difficult (*giggle*) while a quarter of you played it cool, taking things in stride... but alas, the masses have spoken.

Please enjoy Part Twelve of Choose Your Own Trans-Venture!

Choose Your Own Trans-venture! (Part Eleven)

2008-12-22T10:11:00.000-08:00

Hello my little sissies... my deepest apologies for making you wait so long for my latest update. No doubt you are all wiggling in your pink velvet seats, manicured hands down your skirts in anticipation for your latest dose of Brendafication.

Before getting on with the hot girlie action, I have some very exciting news: your very favorite blogmistress has just won the latest caption contest at the highly-esteemed TG Comics website. For those of you who have been living in a hole for the past several years (or, perhaps, bound head-to-toe in skin-tight latex in the bowels of a mysterious castle) this is the authoritative home of illustrated TG tales, guaranteed to delight and titilate like no other. I am simply in awe of this site, despite the fact that Femur absolutely refuses to publish any of my work because it does not technically qualify as comics. Anyway, please take the time to view my award-winning entry and let Femur know just how much you love me.

Okay, back to business... the votes are in. Surprisingly, this was one of the lowest turnouts to date, with just over 350 votes in total. Could it be that you are getting bored of our saga? Perhaps you would like me to abandon this experiment and return to some of my earlier styles? Nonsense! I know you all love me and want me to press forward... anyway, I shall not stray the course until I am convinced that "Choose Your Own..." stories are the wave of the future, and begin to see some of you bloggers out there experiment with this format. I just wish that some ambitious programmer would come out of woodwork and finally develop the first truly functional TG adventure video game.

Where was I? Oh yes, the voting... after surveying our surreal environment, over half of you couldn't wait to stand up and take explore the seemingly vast expanse of absolutely nothing. What were you hoping to find? Fortunately, our hallucinatory hero has an active imagination which is more than capable of filling in the details. Just over a a third of you rightfully questioned your own sanity, and a mere sliver of voters took the patient approach, sitting tightly and playing it safe. Alas, action prevails, so onwards and upwards we go...

Sorry I have been lax in responding to my feedback as of late... to tell the truth, it has been struggle enough to provide you with this update, as I seem to have developed something of a fear of blogging. But like our hero, we must press on forward until we find our way through this confusing, ever-changing world; hopelessly looking for answers as we walk the fine line between fantasy and reality in six-inch heels.

Without further ado, I bring you Part Eleven of Choose Your Own Trans-Venture:

Choose Your Own Trans-venture! (Part Ten)

2008-12-02T14:36:00.000-08:00

Hey, girlfriends. Took me a few days to throw this one together -- how dramatic! First, another round of very close voting, which means I can’t start writing until the very end. Second, I get a very, well… opinionated comment about the full body suit in which our hero has been trapped. Personally, I can never get tired of staring at latex, but I understand that some of you have a greater propensity for lace and frills and the like.

Okay, I understand your frustration… it has been a long time without the slightest hint of skin. But hey, I know you love me and are willing to see this thing through. What can I say? I only have the slightest idea of the twists and turns that our story will take. This is real live voting, people! Anyway, I hope that only a few of you share this “disappointment” with our story. I am normally very, very sensitive to criticism, but my therapy is going well, so I have decided to take this crisis in stride.

From over 400 votes, only 13% chose to end the story here and now, resigned to the fate of a living sex doll. Is that good? Is that bad? Who knows! More importantly, 41% of you would have fallen for the trap, to continue with the struggle, virtually guaranteeing another chapter in the dreaded suit! Even more importantly, 45% of you acquiesced… and what an interesting acquiescence it was.

Hoping you can groove with this most unusual twist, I nervously present to you Part Ten of your own chosen Trans-Venture!

Choose Your Own Trans-venture! (Part Nine)

2008-11-14T13:36:00.000-08:00

Only got time for a quick update today, but I wanted to get this to you all before the weekend (and I am already pushing the envelope as it is).

The voting was slimmer than usual, possibly because the margin was so wide: only one-third of you were ready to join the ranks of mindless slutdom. Two-thirds chose to keep up the noble fight.

I told you this was going to be short, didn't I? Here you go: Part Nine of Choose Your Own Trans-Venture!

Choose Your Own Trans-venture! (Part Eight)

2008-10-28T15:15:00.000-07:00

Well, you asked for it… after weeks of voting and some razor-thing decisions, you finally succumbed to some immense psychological pressures and relinquished poor Brad to the control of our mystery woman. Of course, she already seems to be firmly in control, but only one in six of you had the courage to escape, or at least try. Just over a third of you were resigned to these unusual circumstances, but unwilling to give in to the hunger, stubborn with your notions of free will and subjective autonomy.

Nearly half of you gave in to the hunger, willing to do whatever it took to feed your craving… or were you saying that you just wanted to see some action? I find it difficult to believe that so many of you just suddenly turned the corner and embraced my own personal fetish for mind control. Indeed, I am actually more than a little concerned that some improprieties occurred during the voting… could it be that some of you have figured out how to vote multiple times?

Please, please, please be fair! If you feel strongly about a certain direction, then write me and we can talk it out! Maybe I could even write you a custom caption to make you happy? But please do not vote more than once… I rely on the integrity of our voting system to be sure that our story meets the balance of our audience.

Before getting on with the story, I would just like to some issues that have been on my mind. The first is with regard to my last post, specifically my comparison between myself, as a TG fetishist, and a Star Wars fan. Surely there are some genuine “transsexuals” out there, and I would never intentionally diminish their challenges. However, I believe that the vast majority of us are just, well… fetishists. As difficult as it might be, we need to accept that we are male, fantasies of being female do not make us female, and gender realignment is probably not your road to happiness.

Listen: I am seeing a team of psychiatrists (no joke). I would never put myself out as the picture of mental health. But I do believe that the challenges we face are deeply personal, and can only be managed through intensive therapy. There is a considerable possibility that I will always have my fetish, but the trick is to learn how to manage it, not to let it impose on other important elements of your life. Obviously, this is easier said than done… perhaps the only way is to cut off the stimulus altogether, to quit the addiction?

I do not know the answer. A new online friend of mine recently commented that I do not seem very happy. This is true. I am sure that many of you have managed to figure this out, as well. It is not just a matter of blowing off steam, here on my blog… no. I am fundamentally dissatisfied with the state of my affairs. My fetish… my addiction… has indeed affected my development over the course of my years, stifled my ambition and been an unhealthy escape from many of the problems in my life that needed to be confronted head on. I am trying to counter this, but it is difficult. Old habits die hard, and this one is probably too deeply ingrained to ever go away completely.

Why are we like this? Is there something about our personalities that do not mesh with the mainstream world? Is our fetish a manifestation of some deep unreconciled needs, do we just straddle the gender line, or is it some combination of the two? Are we heroes or vicitims? I wonder if we will ever have any firm answers to these questions, but in the end, I suppose it is the answer that works for you. The gauge of it’s “truth” will be your capacity to live a healthy, happy life.

Anyway, if I had any other issues that I wished to discuss, I cannot remember what they are anymore. So I guess there is nothing left to do but proudly present Part Eight of your own chosen Trans-Venture!

Choose Your Own Trans-venture! (Part Seven)

2008-10-09T10:36:00.000-07:00

You know, I have to hand it to you people. Were it entirely up to me, I would have relinquished Brad's mind at the first opportunity. I guess it says something about me (and a good number of you, to be fair) that I desire mental control just as much, if not more, than physical transformation. All flagging aside, I truly admire the majority of you who exhibit strength of will and character through your voting preferences... either that, or you just want me to get down to the boobs and vagina as quickly as possible!

Before getting to the results of our last vote, I would just like to take this opportunity to get a bit personal. To be honest, I really do not spend as much time on these little blurbs as I feel that I should. Partly out of laziness, partly because I would rather spend my time on captions, and a bit because I am afraid of making myself vulnerable. I am really just a lonely guy, wrapped up in a very straight life with few opportunities to explore our shared passion. This blog is a bit like a prison, with so many exciting things happening outside, the most I can do is sit in my cell writing memoirs.

One of the reasons I started writing this blog was as an opportunity to meet people. That is why I am such a pest about getting you to comment or to send me an e-mail. I need explore and understand this strange condition we all share, and writing captions can only take me part of the way. I need you, to talk to you, not just about what happened to us at the age of eleven, but how we feel today, what being “TG” means to us in our everyday lives.

I have not dressed in over four years, and you know what? I do not miss it. Sure, I would love to have a bodacious bod and wear all sorts of clothes, but that is not my reality. I am a guy, and that is all I will ever be. I still have all the erotic impulses, but it all takes place inside my brain. It is the dream, the fantasy… like a Star Wars freak may dream of flying an X-wing fighter or wielding the Force, that simply is not going to happen… but the dream persists, and he remains a Star Wars freak.

Writing captions is my way of connecting with my dream and making it real, exploring all the dark crevices of my brain… I have so many stories, so many fantasies and ideas, still trapped inside my head. I wish I could draw, or hire actors, costumes and set… but the most I can do is find pictures on the net and try to squeeze them around my dialogue, and vice-versa.

I really like the way this current storyline is going (although some of you may beg to differ… I can almost hear your cries of “give us back our quick fix!”) and I need to find ways to explore more complex ideas. But to do that, I need to talk them through… maybe with you? I need the community, the discourse and the dialogue. Maybe then I can finally get to work on a novel… what do you think?

I like the voting because it is my way of interacting with you and creating something that somehow feels bigger than myself. On that note, let’s get down to it shall we? No more stalling…

From over three hundred votes, about a quarter of you wanted the magic to increase in intensity, to enter your brain and take over your soul… a very yummy prospect, but ultimately doomed. About another quarter of you were keeping it real, were willing to stand up to… who was this woman again? Just a simple stage performer? Yeah… you weren’t going to fall for any more of her cheap parlor tricks!

At the end of the day, the clear winner, with about half total votes, was the status quo: play it cool and let the magic do its work… ah, but what sort of magic have we gotten into? Do you really think that you’re in the clear? Anyway, commendable choice, and I am already looking forward to where you will take our story next.

Without further ado, I present to you Part Seven of Choose Your Own Trans-venture!

Choose Your Own Trans-venture! (Part Six)

2008-09-30T14:11:00.001-07:00

I had a suspicion that the race would be close, but for the longest while it seemed like a runaway… that is, until some strong weekend voting pulled our two leading contenders neck and neck. The results? Nearly 41% of you were willing to abandon our hero to magical forces, overcome as he was by otherworldly pleasure. However, over 43% of you maintained enough of your senses to assess the situation rationally, being understandably shocked but in reasonable control. (For the record, around 16% were hoping to wake up from a dream… but wake up to what?)

Thank you to everyone who provided their feedback. Please do not stop adding your comments… it is in your own best interest to let me know what you think. That way, I can give you all the most wankingest experience possible. Incidentally, if you wish to contact me privately, just drop me a line at brndbgtts@yahoo.com (I have been trying to figure out how to turn my e-mail address into hotlink, or whatever you call it, but my techie skills leave much to be desired. Can anyone help me?)

Without further ado, please enjoy Part Six of Choose Your Own Trans-venture!

Choose Your Own Trans-venture! (Part Five)

2008-09-15T15:19:00.000-07:00

Ancient wisdom states that desire is the cause of suffering. The solution: cut out the root, eliminate your desires. On the other hand, one could accept that suffering is unavoidable and strive for pleasure however possible. Is suffering a personal choice, or are we just fooling ourselves?

I do not know the answer to such questions. All I know is that my life is generally fine, punctuated by periods of misery and contentment. I do know that my desire to find acceptance, be it among my family, friends... or even you people... can lead me down either road. In the end, only art has true meaning, which happens to be a very good segue...

The votes are in! For those of you paying close attention, you will notice that I cut this round short by about eight days -- lucky you! I reserve the right to do this on occasion, when the lead seems reasonably established (hey, if CNN can declare a winner, so can I). Anyway, I am really happy that some of you heeded my words and chose to try something different: 27% acknowledged the trap and wanted to escape, while 14% went even further and demanded some answers. Unfortunately, there can only be one winner: 57% decided to stick around and watch the show... after all, what could possibly go wrong?

[Side note: even if you tally up the two losing categories (or the strong-minded categories, as I like to call them) they still lose to the "horn-dog" vote.]

Before I present you with Part Five of your own chosen trans-venture, I implore you to leave a comment and let me know what you think: do you like the direction our story is taking? Would you like me to continue or is it getting old? Please help me out here... like the woman in the story, it is my intention to get you off as much as possible, and any feedback you can provide would be good for everyone... the choice is yours!

Choose Your Own Trans-venture! (Part Four)

2008-09-04T15:23:00.000-07:00

Hello, sissies! It feels good to be back... did you miss me? It has been so much fun these past few weeks, not having to worry about giving you your playtime fix, but duty calls.

I must say that I am mildly disappointed with this last round of voting. Once again, you overwhelmingly chose to take the "easy" way by sticking around for the show (84%) rather than continue chasing the girl (9%) or turning back the way you came (5%). I cannot blame you for thinking with your dicks, but do you really think that I would leave you high and dry if you chose a less obvious path? Let's get creative, people!

I realize that I may come across as something of a bitch when I write these little blurbs. I guess a part of me is bitter that no matter what I write here, most of you just want to get straight to the goodies (again, can I really blame you?) I think another part of me needs to release all the pent up sexual frustration that comes from writing these little stories and, after all, is it not anger that fuels our little paraphilia?

The truth is, I am actually quite a nice little sissy once you get to know me. I have had the privilege of getting to know a few of you, and it has actually increased my optimism and confidence in people. Come join hands, sissy-ters... we are all in this together. Nobody will improve our lot except ourselves!

Okay, enough preaching... without further ado, please enjoy Part IV of Choose Your Own Trans-venture!

Choose Your Own Trans-venture! (Part Three)

2008-08-08T14:10:00.000-07:00

It just goes to show... if the last segment was decided by just a hair, then this one had a full head of honey blonde, shoulder length curls, coiffed elegantly with big pink silk ribbons! In other words, it was a landslide -- out of 306 total votes, a whopping 83% of you chose to chase the rabbit down the rabbit hole (oh, Alice… when will you learn?) Only 9% of you and the strength and conviction to stay the course, and a mere 6% of you had the good sense to get the hell outta there.

Granting that the results of this contest were pretty clear from the start, I took the risk and began writing this chapter rather early on. You will not be so fortunate for the next chapter, even if the results are similarly skewed. I am going on (another) brief hiatus, but should be back just in time to see the polls close. So I will try to get the fourth chapter out by the end of August, if you’re lucky.

So please remember to vote in that box to your right, and enjoy the third chapter of Choose Your Own Trans-Venture!

Choose Your Own Trans-venture! (Part Two)

2008-07-29T09:36:00.000-07:00

Well, it really doesn't get much closer than this: from a total of 444 votes, by a margin of just two, you chose to sneak in through the back rather than face the front door like a man... good for you. Please enjoy the second chapter of your own chosen Trans-venture!

You will notice our new poll to the right. It seems our hero has another tough choice ahead, as our plot thickens... Remember to vote early, vote often (just kidding... please just one vote per sissy) and if you have any questions or suggestions, you know where to find me.

On an unrelated note, I recently had the pleasure of finding Bimbo Boutique, a strange new bimbofication website that is looking for activity. Why strange, you ask? Well, it appears that this site is actually geared towards women who want to be bimbofied -- amazing! Let us join our bimbo sisters in our ongoing quest for bigger boobs and smaller brains!

Choose Your Own Trans-venture! (Part One)

2008-07-04T14:47:00.000-07:00

Hi folks!

It has been a while... did you miss me? I have been watching my little blog from a distance for the past few weeks and have been thrilled with the level of response for my new Choose Your Own Trans-venture project -- over 500 votes! This is thanks in no small part to the wonderful traffic directed from the incomprable TG Comics website (which is well worth the look, if you haven't done so already).

Anyway, the masses have spoken. The "mysterious house" beat "lost and confused woman" by a margin of three-to-two... so let our Trans-venture begin! Please turn your attention towards the next round of voting and let's keep this story going. Again, my apologies for being away for so long, but I am back, and I'll see you again in about two or three weeks.

Maid to Serve

2008-06-09T14:29:00.000-07:00

Can you believe the nerve??? The good folk at MissBimbo.com saw fit to change my name against my consent. Apparently a website geared towards young girls, one that encourages excessive vanity, plastic surgery and calls its members bimbos, finds the term "tits" offensive. I may grant them that, but did they really have to give me such a dorky name?

Oh well, Brenda Big Brain it shall be from now on.... I would encourage you all to call me this, if any of you ever called me anything! Do you have any idea just how damn lonely I am, and all you can do is sit there with your hands in your pants... that's right, I said pants. I reserve the sexy talk for my work. You want to be called a short-skirted sissy slut, well... you'd better earn it!

Anyway, those who comprise my loyal following (all three of you) know that I must always accompany every posting with some sort of captioned image. So despite my annoyance with the lot of you (three notable exceptions excluded) I present my latest, again with a fatherly theme. By the way... keep your eyes glued to the poll at the right side of your screen: a very interesting new question will be coming out any day now, guaranteed thrills and excitment. Stay tuned.

Daddy Dearest

2008-05-23T13:21:00.000-07:00

"Sorry it has been so long since my last post"... yeah, yeah, yeah. Listen: I love each and every one of you, and if it were up to me, I would do nothing but spend all day, every day, making delightful little stories for you to wank off too. But I am selfish. Lately, I have been spending most of my free time at Miss Bimbo and melting my brain in the process.

Take a look at me, Bimbo Brenda Big Tits! If I keep working hard at being a bimbo, then one day I might afford some breast augmentation surgery... no kidding! Of course, I could always spend some real money to purchase some of their "Bimbo Dollars" but I will just work hard at advancing my career and mooching off my boyfriend instead.

If you do choose to register, then you much look me up (BrendaBigTits) and give me some Bimbo Cred... this is so much fun, I just hope that I don't grow bored of it too quickly.

Anyway, in other more important news... I can assure you that despite my ongoing bimbofication, the male side of my brain has been hard at work and should have some delightful surprises in store for you all in the weeks and months to come.

In the meantime, please enjoy this lovely little cap that I will be entering in Rachel's Haven June contest, appropriately themed for Father's Day... I thought it was a very strange theme at first, but it is starting to grow on me. The trick is to focus on all the damage that miserable bastard has done to me over the years and them sublimate it into pure aesthetic experience. Don't be surprised if a few more of these babies pop out in the next few days or so.

Femploy is Here!

2008-05-07T09:41:00.000-07:00

Okay ladies, because you asked for it… after weeks of slavish dedication, I am pleased to present the latest installment of my Femploy series. Soak it all up, because you will not be seeing anything like it for quite some time. I really do not remember the last time I worked so hard on something… it literally took hours and hours (and hours) of borrowed time. I just hope it paid off with dozens of hard little boyclits.

Special thanks go out to Venatus for politely informing me that my Comments section has not been functioning as of late… Oops! This bug has now been fixed, so I highly encourage you to add some feedback (just look for the word “comments” in bold, gray, italicized font at the bottom of this post and give it a click). I am still waiting for an offer to write these things for money, but until that day arrives, all I have to go on are your delightful comments… so go back into the archives and offer some there, too!

Without further ado, please enjoy my latest work, in eleven parts:

Homecoming Queen

2008-04-21T11:02:00.000-07:00

Patience is a virtue, my friends... I know that many of you are eagerly awaiting the Femploy Sequel and I can assure you that I am hard at work, just taking a little bit longer than expected. Still, I do not know why I bother... so far nobody has commented on the Back to School Sequel that I posted a couple of weeks ago. Come on, people: you've got to give some to get some! High school was hard enough without reliving the days of being the least popular guy in class that nobody will talk to. I look around and see all these fantastic blogs to which people are posting streams of comments. The best I can hope for is a dribble... is it my personality? What do I have to do to win your adoration?

Anyway, I do love each and every one of you, so to tide you over (and offer myself something of a brief reprieve) I am posting my modest entry to the May caption contest from Rachel's Haven website. If you have not done so already, I strongly recommend that you pay a visit, register, and then vote for yours truly. As you can probably tell by now, I do not waste my time on these captions (and it is a considerable amount of time, trust me) for the money: just the glory. Of course, the glory has been small and fleeting, so I have to ask myself why I bother to do this at all. Is it just a matter of getting myself off? Am I looking to find my own inner story? Makes me wonder if I have grown as a person in the slightest.

Truth is, all this transgendered nonsense is an addiction, and I am addicted. Were it up to me, I would spend thousands of dollars on clothes, makeup and surgery, fly all around the world to all the expense fetish resorts and play out my fantasies with highly-paid professionals. I would even hire a team of scientists to bring some of my more twisted and fantastic inventions to life (wouldn't you love to hear about them?) Unfortunately, I am forced to dredge up my daily fixes with the rest of you louts... but we are all in this together, yes? Anyway, please enjoy my latest caption... and talk to me, dammit. The loneliness is unbearable.

Back to School: A New Beginning

2008-04-07T13:01:00.000-07:00

Okay you little lurkers... I busted my boobs to you get you this little sequel on time, so you'd better appreciate it!

You know, I spent many years searching this way and that for some free kicks, and am happy to repay some of this very long tab... but sweet Mary, I am getting hungry again from some fresh juice. Come on and help me out, spread the karma. Let me know what sort of cutting edge fiction is going on out there. Heck, just tell me what is going on through that depraved little head of yours... give me some stimulus!

Ranting aside, make sure to read the first part of this little series before going any further. When you are done, let me know what you think... this is very, very important! I need to know what works and what doesn't so I can continue to bring you more and better perversity. Anyway, I hope you like this one... in any case, it better last you for another couple of weeks until the Femploy sequel comes out (yes, it is coming).

Femploy is Coming!

2008-03-31T14:41:00.001-07:00

Well, the results are in... the people of spoken, and nearly half of them said that Femploy.com is the series most worthy of sequel. However, a surprising one-third of you also showed a strong preference for Back to School so I'll tell you what I'll do... I'll do both of them!

That's right, sometime in the very near future, you will see two (count 'em) two high quality sequel series for your masturbatory amusement! Can you believe that I do all this work for you and I'm not even paid a single penny? It's gotta be love, I tell you.

However, you will have to wait (for the very near future) as I plot and write this babies out. I can assure you that I am hard at work as we speak... so keep the comments coming, keep my motivation up and I guarantee that you will not be disappointed.

In the meantime, I give you few little "Lo-res" shorties to curb your appetite. They are all connected, not connected, I don't know... just enjoy:

New Poll

2008-03-10T15:29:00.000-07:00

Apologies to my regular readers (yes, both of you) for not posting any new material lately. Rest assured that I have not forgotten about you... just over-burdened with work, life, and everything else that gets in the way of an unhealthy fantasy life.

Please take the time to vote on my new poll. Although I have hundreds of ideas running through my head, it sometimes take more time deciding on one than actually writing. So this is where you help out: vote on the series that you would most like to see continued. This will not only provide you with new and better stroking material, but it will also help me figure out what elements are working and where I should focus my efforts.

(Here's a hint, a quick way to get your skin-fiction... just drop me a comment or e-mail! I love hearing from you, and nice responses often inspire me to write new captions.)

Thank you, by the way, to everyone who took the time to vote on my old poll. nearly 9 out of 10 want to know where to get more of this stuff... I would like to add myself to that list (anyone know of any good caption sites?)

In the meantime, I sign off with a pretty little picture of a friend of mine who lay down on the sofa with a terrific headache one day and woke up to find that more than his pain had disappeared:

Valentine's Day: SRU Tales

2008-02-14T09:24:00.001-08:00

SITE UPDATE: New and improved with high-resolution images, you must visit femploy.com again and again!

Happy Valentine's Day!

Please wish me luck on the following two entries for Rachel's Haven February Caption Contest. This year, we were instructed to comply with the "Spells 'R' Us" universe (which should require no further explanation).

Help my cause by joining the website and voting for yours truly! In the meantime, please enjoy the following two unrelated captions: My Faithful Valentine and Pandora's Bottle

Femploy: The Waitress

2008-02-07T14:57:00.000-08:00

I don't know if I want to make a habit of this, but I am all excited about my new blog so what the heck. I received a comment from a nice individual who enjoyed my Femploy.com series and requested that do one about a guy transformed into working as a bunny... and here it is!

(Let this be a lesson to the rest of you: leave a comment, and you just might see your wish come true!)

Introductory Remarks

2008-02-06T14:13:00.000-08:00

My name is Brenda Big Tits and welcome to my blog! I don’t know much by way of introductions, but I’ll do my best to tell you a little bit about who I am and what this blog is about.

Over the past several years, I’ve become increasingly frustrated with the mediocre quality of TG fiction. This is not to say there are no talented writers or titillating stories -- far from it -- it just came to the point where it took me about one hour to search for every minute of arousing material. So I decided to do something about it: create my own stories, the way I would like them to be told. My influences are numerous and varied, and I rely on them implicitly in all aspects of my work.

I chose “captioning” for many reasons, not the least of which is a newsgroup that I came across, which ran monthly contests for captioned pictures. This provided me the forum I desired, as well as an excuse to write my stories in short little segments rather than ongoing pages. Over time, I began to appreciate the power of the picture and its reciprocity with the written word (although I still have much to learn about writing, such as the proper use of the word “reciprocity”).

I will try to update this blog as frequently as possible, both with new work and random thoughts such as these. Maybe over time I will develop “real” stories with less reliance on pictures. I would also like to develop comic strips, animations or even rudimentary computer games, if I ever find someone willing to collaborate. In any case, please search through my archive for past work and keeping checking back for new stuff… and remember to leave a comment or two behind, even if it’s short (your feedback is all I have to keep me going).

Enjoy!

Christmas Wish Foundation

2008-01-29T14:27:00.000-08:00

Four otherwise unrelated captions paint a Christmas picture to warm the heart.

A Thanksgiving Tale

2008-01-29T14:25:00.000-08:00

Technically, a four-part story with an alternate ending... careful with the last (fifth) caption, to see where it picks up from the fourth.

The Driver

2008-01-29T14:23:00.000-08:00

A Halloween tale of intrigue...

Only on Halloween

2008-01-29T14:22:00.000-08:00

Back to School

2008-01-29T14:21:00.000-08:00

Femploy.com (Part 1)

2008-01-29T14:19:00.000-08:00

NEW AND IMPROVED!

Hey folks, your favorite caption series has just been updated with high-resolution images! Now you can enjoy your favorite fictious employment service without squinting your eyes!

(Don't forget to check out Part 2 when you're done!)

Go to Part 2

Femploy.com (Part 2)

2008-01-29T14:12:00.001-08:00

Welcome to the concluding chapter of our saga... or is it? When you're finished, you must check out Femploy: The Waitress if you haven't done so already.

Making of Brenda Big Tits

2008-01-29T13:55:00.000-08:00

The following work was done in collaboration with Jamie Powers (she did 98% of the work, I simply provided the story outline). The story itself is loosely based on "BBS: Bulletin Board Sissy" by Pretty Sissy Dani... one of my favorite stories and the source of my unusual name.

Eastwood Saga (Part 1): Valentine's Day

2008-01-29T12:40:00.001-08:00

Part One of the Eastwood Saga (and my first published work):

Eastwood Saga (Part 2): April Fool's Day

2008-01-29T12:36:00.000-08:00

Part Two of the "Eastwood Saga" (and final part, unless I figure out where to go from here). Be sure to check out the first part before reading any further: