Sissy Feminization Story

After falling head over heels for Joe Smith for three years, I finally got the proposal I had been waiting for. However, on the day of our wedding, he did not show up until the wee hours of the morning. When I found him, Joe was drinking happily with a young girl in his arms. “I’m already tired of her clinginess. She’s a joke. Who else would want her?” Much later, he made me a wedding ring and proposed with my favorite jasmine flowers. But a muscular man opened the door instead. The man had two scratch marks on his neck and smirked at the disheveled Joe. “Isn’t it a bit too shameless of you to propose to a married woman?”

My mother-in-law is extremely frugal. She reuses paper others have discarded, carefully saving the unmarked portions. She even takes the black waste oil from the kitchen range hood and uses it to cook our meals. She says, "Frugality is a virtue—it brings blessings!" I try tirelessly to convince her otherwise, throwing out all her filthy items to protect my family's health. But while she praises me to my face, behind my back, she uses my baby's food scissors to clip her grimy toenails. My child eventually dies of a lung infection, leaving me heartbroken. My mother-in-law, however, points her finger at me, saying I'm unlucky and that I've brought misfortune to their family. Even my husband blames me. In the end, they use a knitting needle to pierce my throat and stab me to death. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day I first see her picking up dirty paper. The first thing I do is hide all the high-quality tissue paper I had stocked up on before my pregnancy, pretending I knew nothing. She calls these blessings, right? Fine. The blessings of this miserly frugality—she can reap them all herself!

Soon after I came back to the country, someone slapped me right across the face in broad daylight, yelling that I was a mistress. A crowd of reporters closed in, pelting me with questions about whether Chandler Armstrong, CEO of Armstrong Industries, was keeping me as his mistress. I was stunned speechless for a moment, but then I pulled out my wedding photo with Chandler from seven years ago and held it up. "What are you talking about? I'm his wife!" The crowd went silent, and the woman who'd slapped me turned white as a sheet. Only then did I finally get it: while I'd been overseas, Chandler had been openly involved with an actress, and everyone in his social circle had already decided she was the future Mrs. Armstrong. Today, they all came expecting to confront a mistress—only to find out that I was actually his wife. Later, Chandler tried to justify it. "Alina, you've been out of the country for years. I'm a man, and I have needs. She's just a B-list actress; it's not like she threatens your position. Why should you be upset? Just let it go," he said. "Don't make a scene." I handed him the divorce papers. "You make me sick."

25 years ago, a maternity nurse secretly switched me out for her daughter. Unfortunately for her, my six-year-old brother saw this and secretly switched me back. 25 years later, the maternity nurse comes knocking with her actual daughter by her side. She accuses me, the heiress of Crawford Group, of being an impostor. The company's janitor starts insulting me and insinuates that my lipstick is a cheap imitation. Even my boyfriend humiliates me with her. "And here I thought you were the heiress of the Crawford family. You can't even compare to a hair on Pammy's head!" When the DNA test results are out, everyone is stunned. "That wretch bewitched me, Lori! Please forgive me—give me another chance!" my boyfriend cries. I look at him icily. "Another chance to do what? To clean the toilets?"

In front of the orphanage gates, Rebecca Schwartz, the impoverished student I had been sponsoring, stood glaring at me with a face full of disdain. "If you don't let Freddie come along, I'm not going to your house either," she declared, her tone sharp and unyielding. In the past, blinded by love and hopelessly infatuated, I would have caved to her demands, humbling myself just to keep the peace. But things were different now—I had been reborn. Staring at this despicable pair, who had once caused my tragic demise, a tidal wave of fury surged within me. Yet, it settled into nothing more than a faint, icy smile on my lips. "Then stay here," I said, my voice cold and steady. "Rot in this place alongside your precious Freddie. After all, trash like you belong in the garbage heap."

On the eve of the National Robotics Championship, I smashed my carefully designed bot to pieces and announced my withdrawal. Everyone said I was a fraud who was quitting out of fear of being exposed. Online, the netizens mocked me relentlessly. Only one person, Adrian Cross, the so-called genius of the century, spoke up in my defense, his voice dripping with false sincerity, "I believe in River Lowell’s skills. Only he deserves to be my opponent. No matter what setbacks he’s facing, I hope he comes back to the arena and proves himself." In my previous life, the robot I built was identical to his. No matter how I tried to prove he had copied me, Adrian stood before the cameras, wearing his benevolent mask, and said, "It’s fine. This robot can go to River. I can always build something even better." His fans swarmed me, tearing me apart online, and no one believed in my talent. I swallowed the humiliation and vowed to rebuild my robot from scratch. However, when I was assembling it, the Power Core in my kit exploded, shattering my skull. That same night, I was rushed into the ICU. Netizens clapped and cheered, saying I got exactly what I deserved. That night, my girlfriend, Lila Hart, signed the hospital’s DNR consent form without hesitation. Until the day I died, I never understood how Adrian had gotten my robot’s data or why Lila had joined forces with him. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day of the competition.

After five years of marriage, Zac Saunders felt the need to protect his son with his mistress. Not only did he pressure me into terminating the pregnancy, but he also conspired with the board of directors to remove me from my position as vice president. He held Jemma Jacobs close, wearing a wicked grin."Samantha Lewis," he sneered, "since you won't obey...""...Jemma take your place from now on," he continued.I pushed his hand away, pulling Jemma in front of me. Ignoring her struggles, I firmly grabbed her hair and forced her to tilt her head back."Come on," I urged, "tell him, who do you belong to?"

I become unemployed when I'm four months pregnant, and my husband asks that we become independent of each other in our marriage. We manage our own finances and pay for our own expenses. Even when I'm suffering from major blood loss during labor, he's unwilling to pay to save my life. My child and I both lose our lives. When I open my eyes, I find that I'm back to the day my husband asks that we become independent of each other. I readily agree. What he doesn't know is that I can morph into a seahorse and transfer the baby to his body so he can carry it to term.

I'd been engaged to Ivan since we were kids. When he went off to the military, I stayed behind—ten years of caring for his paralyzed mom, putting my whole life on pause. By the time he came back, I was at the age where most women were settling down. And he showed up with someone else. Ivan laid it out, stone cold: "Nadia's my comrade's widow. If you want to marry me, you'll have to accept her too. Most of my pay goes to her. I promised I'd take care of her. She gets first pick of everything in the house. Don't like it? Then forget about getting married." I looked past him. Nadia stood there, tears dripping down her cheeks, playing the poor little victim. Right then, I ended it. No drama. No regrets. Signed up for the Rural Teaching Support Program the same day. Left love behind. Threw everything I had into teaching.

Ang mga magulang ko ay dinala ako sa korte para makuha ang puso ko at maligtas ang ampon na kapatid kong babae. Ang judge ay gumamit ng advanced technology upang ma-extract ang aming mga alaala. Ang jury ng 100-katao ang magdedesisyon ng hatol. Kung ang mga magulang ko ang mananalo sa kaso, ang mga laman-loob ko ay mapupunta sa kanila. Sa tingin nila ay hindi ako magpapakita sa trial dahil sa tingin nila ay masamang tao ako. Gayunpaman, ang lahat ay napuno ng luha nang makita nila ang mga alala at ang katotohanan ng nangyari!