Well hello there!

I'm Goddess Rachel, your Mean Girl BFF, and I can spot a sissy from a mile away!

What's a Mean Girl BFF? In this context, it's a real woman, with all the attributes you wish you had, or wish you were man enough to attract. She'll never let you forget that that's the case, but She'll still hang out with you, and encourage you to inhabit a social and sexual self in which you can actually flourish!

She'll cheer you with the constant reminder that just because you've failed as a male, it doesn't mean you can't be a complete success as a submissive, feminized dress up doll!

Or fuckdoll.

About that "spot[ting] a sissy from a mile away" part: sometimes I know a sissy gurl before s/he even knows he/rself! Even if s/he's in the throes of masculine delusion. Then I consider it My job, as the BFF s/he simply hasn't met yet, to bring he/r around to understanding he/r true nature, and developing the look and behavior to go with it!

How do I know?

Well, there are symptoms!

I can't remember what philosopher or self-help guru stated it, but have you ever heard the idea that whatever triggers you, controls you? That what bothers you about someone is actually shining a light on something in yourself you find troubling?

So for example, if a "man" goes about loudly braying about how women should stay in the kitchen, slaps waitresses on the hiney, laments the good ol' days when women knew their place, and complains about "feminists", well, that tends to be a case of "methinks the sissy doth protest too much".

That's a sissy that needs help and guidance to embrace what s/he's trying to avoid with he/r obnoxious misogyny.

With this variety, it can take some strong ropes, the assistance of a hearty friend or two, or a surprise stint in a chastity cage to gentle them down, but eventually they come to terms with the fact that their Goddess Rachel knows best.

Sometimes it's more subtle than that. Sometimes, I'll walk past a "man" on the street, and My spidey senses will tell Me, "I bet he's got panties on under those jeans, or wishes he did."

Others, I'll note a pair of long, lush eyelashes, a pair of plump lips just dying for lipstick, or a nice round bottom going to waste on a guy, and decide to make it My business to liberate him from the tragedy of wasted potential.

But I don't always need My spidey senses to key in from a distance on a man aching to be sissified. Sometimes the evidence is up close!

All "he" has to do is pull down "his" pants.

If I see anything smaller than 6" down there, I feel compelled start removing body hair, and coerce "him" into the smallest pink chastity cage I can find, as soon as possible. A BFF, even one you don't know is your BFF, sometimes has to save you from yourself and your delusions despite your surface objections. She has to save other beautiful women from disappointment, too.

But don't think My caustic friendship is only about bringing out the best in the reluctant or delusional. It's also about shepherding those who, but for the condemnation of society or their domestic or professional circumstances would dive headlong into their affinity for feminization and submission. I can be as understanding a confidant as I am a strict taskmaster. I can either be the one place you can acknowledge out loud the femme you long to be, without judgement, or encourage you to find ways to explore in the flesh without burning your life to the ground!

So, if you recognize yourself in any of the above, don't wait for Me to snatch you from the streets or the office or the bar. It's really better that way.

Just call and ask for your Mean Girl BFF, Goddess Rachel, and I'll take it from there!