by Priscilla Gay Bouffant
(A woman is dissatisfied with her niece's choice in a boyfriend; she uses a time-honored method to resolve the situation.)
I had always been intimidated by Margo Givens. When I had begun to work for her she let me know right off that she had hired me to fulfill a government-mandated quota. In no uncertain terms, she let me know, that I was, "No more then a glorified mail boy."
When I started dating her niece, Phyllis, she had let us both know she was not pleased in the least. "Reginald, you are hardly the type of boy I want my niece to have a relationship with. Hopefully though, you may prove me wrong," she stated, giving me the benefit of the doubt.
Phyllis was majoring in fashion design, with the idea of one day running her aunt's business. After her four years of schooling she would be spending at least one, if not two semesters in Europe, studying under some really famous designers.
At the time we had begun dating, I had just received my two-year Associates degree. I was 20 years old. Phyllis was a college senior and two years older. Therefore, though I did not show it, I was infuriated that her aunt would tell me that Phyllis had a 1 a.m. curfew. "I expect her in no later, Reginald," she had said when I picked her up for our first date.
My landlady, Ms. Marie Richard, was no different. Ms. Richard (French pronunciation, as in Re-shod) was a hair and make up artist who worked for Aunt Margo during fashion layouts. She owned several very nice rental properties. She had rented me an apartment above her own home. One stipulation in the lease was, no guests, male or female, after 11 p.m. without her prior approval.
This really cramped our dating, especially when Phyllis and I began to have an occasional sexual encounter. I would have to sneak her up to my place, and then make sure we could sneak back out. Then get her home before her curfew.
Twice I had gotten her home late, when she had lingered kissing me in the car. The next time we saw each other I asked her what had happened. She blushed and turned away somewhat embarrassed and said, "Never mind. It's not important."
The third time late I escorted her to her door where Margo surprised us and told me to come in. "I'm going to show you what my niece goes through whenever you bring her in the door late. Phyllis, get the hairbrush!"
"Please Aunt Margo? Not in front of Reggie!" she pleaded. When she returned she handed her aunt the brush and got over her knee. My goodness! She was going to be spanked!
"Stop! You can't do this! You can't spank a 22 year old woman for being late," I stated as if I had a say so.
"I can't? Who do you think you are? Clarence Darrow?" I'll do anything I like. Unless of course, you want to be her knight in shining armor and take the spanking for her?" Margo challenged me as Phyllis looked at me through her bangs, which were falling, in her face.
"Okay, I will. I'll take her spanking," I said as Phyllis jumped up, clapped her hands and hugged me.
"Phyllis, you may go to your room and get changed. Return in ten minutes," Margo asserted.
Ten minutes later I was huddled on the couch, a sobbing wreck! Margo had spanked my butt raw! Phyllis held me as Margo stood off to the side saying, "I had no idea he was such a sissy, pantywaist. Goodness! I barely hit him. Much softer then I hit you dear," she said as Phyllis rubbed my head.
"Aunt Margo, I'm used to it. Besides, Reggie is a sensitive boy. Hardly a macho type," she smiled as she petted me.
Before Phyllis left for Europe, I would get three more of these spankings, each time for being a few minutes tardy. The result was the same. I now could barely look Margo Givens in the eye, and did every single thing she told me to do, no matter what it was.
Phyllis had been gone for a week when Margo called me into her office. Ms. Richard was also present.
"Ms. Richard has told me that you and my niece were often seen leaving your apartment as late as midnight to 12:30 a.m. Reggie. She has also asked me if she should evict you. I think it's a good idea. I'll give you a leave of absence and have you move in with me. You seem to need some specialized training that I can provide," she said with a smirk.
"What type of training? I asked, somewhat scared.
"Well, I believe you need to be housebroken for my niece. After all, she is obviously going to be the breadwinner. You, on the other hand will be the house hubby. A cute house hubby like you will be quite the attraction with the housewives in the neighborhood. Quite tempting for both you and them," she smirked.
To keep you thoroughly in line, I will suggest to Phyllis a slight feminization for you, shaved body, unisex apparel, and things of that nature. You'll be appealing to her, but not to other females. That way you won't be tempted to stray," she added, as Ms. Richard nodded in agreement.
"You've got to be kidding! You wouldn't dare, and Phyllis wouldn't stand for it! I said, flaring up slightly.
"Don't ever use that tone of voice with me! I'll spank you right here in the office! Besides, you have no choice. It's over to my residence for proper domestic training, or you're out in the street with no job," she added, getting up from her desk and standing over me.
I had to think fast. Maybe I could play along until Phyllis returned from Europe to rescue me, from her aunt and Ms. Richard's clutches. "All right Ms. Margo. I'll do it, but only until Phyllis returns and say's I'm to stop," I said confidently.
"Good dear. Did I mention I'll be teaching you to keep house and perform tasks such as hair styling and nail care? It shouldn't matter to you. My niece will adore you for learning. A busy women like herself needs someone with the training I'll be giving you," she said with a wave of her hand.
She then continued, "You may move in this evening. Marie will collect your belongings for you. She has a key. Besides, you won't be wearing any of your boyish clothing for a while. As you said dear, you'll wait for my niece to return and tell you how to dress," she said as she left the office.
Chapter two: A Change of Style
That very evening, after work, I drove to Margo's residence. I arrived just after she did. I was told to pull into the garage. Once in the house I was given a navy blue stretch turban and a full length, white, ruffled apron and we began to prepare supper. I was sent to set the table for three and soon found out why. The doorbell rang and I answered the door to find the very attractive and impeccably groomed Ms. Marie Richard at the door.
Attired in a tailored suit with her short, sculpted, professionally styled hair, she was the picture of a confident, dominant female. On the way to the living room I saw myself in the mirror. My hair tucked under the turban, the ruffled apron, my bangs just showing, the very insecure, uncertain expression on my face. I was the picture of a nervous, dominated sissy boy.
Throughout dinner both women were charming. Margo spoke of Phyllis and the things she liked. Marie talked of the future interaction she would expect of me. Somehow I realized that part of my training would involve being a sort of junior assistant to her at the office. Margo asked for some input from me and I explained that the housekeeping should come easy, as I had done much of it as a youth and also as a bachelor. It was the performance of the beauty arts services I might find difficult.
Completing dinner I assisted in the cleanup and we began a tour of my new room and it's contents. As feminine as it was decorated, it was the clothing provided for me that was appalling! Unisex, indeed!
For starters I saw nothing other then an assortment of ladies slacks. These included spandex, stretch slacks, Capri's, stirrup style and even some 50's models of the old pedal pusher type. Worse yet, though there were dark colors, many of the slack and top sets were in bright pastels. The shorts were either tight hot pants or culottes, which resembled short skirts. Of course my underwear was all filmy, colorful and lacy, and the closet included tailored suits and jumper sets. The last straw was the ladies shoes in the closet and the cosmetics on the vanity.
"Ladies, surely you jest. I hardly think that this so called feminization will be in anyway slight. You can't honestly believe that I'd permit you to turn me into some sort of girl," I added with a true and apparent lack of conviction.
"Marie, I believe our sissy boy needs a workout in the gym, darling," said Ms. Margo as they both propelled me towards the room where Margo and Phyllis often exercised. I've never thought of myself as Charles Atlas, but I certainly didn't realize I was a complete pussycat. It took very little for Marie and Margo to soon have me restrained and tied to a chin up bar, my hands together, overhead and my ankles restrained together with me on tiptoes.
It had been so easy for them, they had joked about me being such a "rugged little sissy." To show me they meant business they used scissors to cut away all the clothing I was wearing and faced me naked towards a mirror to show me how helpless I was. "Marie, what do you prefer as an implement of discipline? Shall we use a hairbrush, riding crop, paddle, belt or birch rod?" Ms. Margo asked as if they did this routinely.
"Being of a European background, I'd much prefer a supple birch cane for disciplining our pantywaist," Ms. Marie replied, compelling me to begin begging for mercy.
"Please ladies, I'll comply with all your wishes. Dress my anyway you'd like. As a French maid, if need be. I'll wear lipstick, perfume, and a bra; just tell me your desires. Please I'll be a girl, talk like one, answer to a girl's name. Just don't spank me, please?" I begged, much to their amusement.
"My aren't we the brave little Milquetoast, today? She's in such a hurry to become a lady also," Ms. Marie added, sarcasm dripping from her tone of voice.
Ms. Margo then said, "I'm afraid we can't rush things Reggie dear. You see, part of the fun for us, and in your case, the lesson learned, is to display and parade you about, both publicly and privately, as a dainty, androgynous milksop. For the indefinite future we'll have our friends visit, and we'll take you places, including the office, so that everyone may enjoy your coming of age as a sissified doormat," she stated with a casual tone, adding, "Then and only then can we unveil you as the demure, well trained, ladies maid you were always meant to be."
"You'll actually thrive on the complements you get as you progress. You'll just shiver with delight when someone at a party tells Phyllis what a lovely girl you have become!" Ms. Richard said proudly. With that the birch rod, slapping against my thighs, broke the silence as I shrieked like a banshee. They took turns caning me, two or three strokes at a time up to a dozen or so. Blinded by my tears, it wasn't until Ms. Marie wiped my eyes and squeezed my penis that I realized I had a major erection.
"Look Margo our little weakling loves being spanked. Goodness, I'm going to need some cold cream and the milking chair before we can bathe and dress her." With that comment, Ms. Richard pulled a chair up along side of me and began to apply Ponds cold cream to my rear end, and penis at the same time, soothing my rear and making my penis swell even more.
At this point I'd say or do anything and both ladies realized it. Both Ms. Richard and Aunt Margo began to have me tell them embarrassing things such as how many times I had tried on women's clothes and how often I masturbated. They even had me admit I'd love to be taken to a beauty parlor and I couldn't wait to serve my future wife and mistress, Phyllis.
When I finally did squirt my sissy semen, they made me shout out in a babyish lisping voice, "I'm a little sissy pansy and I love it!" While still tied up and standing on tiptoes, I was shaved from the neck down and had my toenails painted coral pink. After releasing me, but before I took my scented bubble bath, they did my fingernails in the same shade, pierced by ears and completely shaved off my eyebrows.
I was so humiliated that I sobbed all the way to the bathtub. Once bathed, I was shown how to properly apply lotion, powder and scent to my effeminate body. First I would apply, from head to toe an almond scented baby oil. Following this, using a powder puff, I'd cover myself in sandalwood scented body talc. Next came an application of a honeysuckle scented, essential oil. Doing this continually, day after day, kept my mind in a feminine fog.
I was then dressed in a hot pink short pajama set, with a pair of three inch heeled clear plastic mules on my feet. Using a perfumed mousse, my hair was then set on mid sized brush rollers after being trimmed to chin length. I was made to go to bed with a pink turban with attached bow, covering my curlers. Once in bed a pillow was placed between my legs and I was told to curl up in the fetal position, and given a doll to hold. The doll was a Madame Alexander copy and was attired in a beautiful party dress. She had huge sausage curls and red hair. Her name was Tammy. I cuddled up with Tammy, told Mummy Marie and Aunt Margo, "Goodnight," and fell off to a peaceful, perfumed sleep.
Over the next few days, I would be dressed in some type of ladies slacks, top and heels, with a touch of lip-gloss and penciled in brows. I'd wear my normal sissy scents and underwear. I'd make and serve breakfast and once Margo left I'd style out my rolled up hair and begin making up beds, cleaning and waxing floors, vacuuming carpets and cleaning bathrooms.
Once Margo got home and had eaten, she'd begin to give me my sissy lessons as opposed to my future girl lessons. I was taught the speech patterns, voice and movements of a sissy. Everything I did was precise, exaggerated and theatrical. My mincing walk, my limp wrists, my batting eyelids, and my high pitched, falsetto, lisping voice, told everyone I was indeed a very effeminate male.
Weekends I had long beauty sessions with Margo, doing her hair nails and makeup. Shaving her legs, with her still naked in the bathtub was routine anytime she would bathe. Even more embarrassing was the way she had me ask her for my hormone pills. Every morning after breakfast I would kneel down kiss the hem of her dress, and get in the begging position of a dog. "Please Aunt Margo, may Reggie have his pretty pills please?" I would ask as she would drop the pills in my mouth and lift the glass of water to my glossed lips.
Before Margo allowed me to come into the office she began to tone down my sissy acting and began giving me girl lessons. Now I could act feminine instead of sissified and I actually felt better. "Why don't we have Marie come to the house this week to color your hair, Reggie? Then in a week to ten days you could come in to work and have her perm it, whenever she's not busy with the models. It would be nice to have a new stylish do, before returning to the office. The girls are aware of your change and are well prepared for you," she said.
She went on, "They are liable to tease you a little, and have you do demeaning jobs at first. Don't worry though. Once they see you are serious about being my daughter's feminized slave girl they should come around." I wasn't to keen on some of this but didn't dare complain until I spoke to Phyllis.
"Reggie dear," Phyllis said, the first time I spoke to her when she phoned from Europe, "It does sound as if Aunt Margo has gone overboard, but for the time being, go along with her and obey her. I'll straighten things out when I come home at Spring break next March," she said as my eyes filled with tears. I then asked why she wasn't coming home for the December and January holidays.
"Because Aunt Margo is coming here to visit me and the old friends I'm staying with. Marie will be there to see to your training and celebrate with you. Don't worry, the three of use and the people at Margo's office will be giving you some nice gifts," she added, before we said our good byes.
One Friday evening, Marie came to the house and dyed my hair a rich brunette, similar to hers. She then trimmed and shaped it into a cute wedge shaped bob. The sides were longer at my jaw line then the hair was in back. The bangs were really cute and went straight across my penciled in brows. The perm she put in ten days later was really chic.
She decided on a spot perm. She rolled the top on small rods and pinned the hair on the sides with metal clips. In the back she used Bobbie pins. Where the wave rods were located she used a very smelly full strength perm solution, and everywhere else a mild body wave chemical. When the do was completed, combed out, mousse was applied, along with hair spray; I had a really knockout, fab perm!
The back was done in cute little tendril waves to my collar. The top was parted on the left side with slightly bouffant curls and soft waves. The sides were sculpted. The hairstyle was just so precise, that my first day at the office I got plenty of compliments on it. My first day back I also realized I was at the bottom of the pecking order.
I ran errands, answered the phone and did a lot of filing. Not only at the filing cabinet either. I'm also speaking of filing nails. I did both a manicure and pedicure for Marie. Once that was complete I did Margo's nails also. They made sure to show the girls what a good job I could do, and soon nearly everyday someone would wiggle their fingers at me and call out, "Oh Reggie darling. Get your nail care kit and show me what a good little office girl you are." It was terribly embarrassing.
Once I began to shop and go to lunch with the girls, I became self-conscious of the puzzled looks I received from people as to my true sex. This prompted me one night to ask Margo, "Would it be all right with you to help me purchase some bras and padding?" I asked blushing. While shopping that evening she helped me pick out some skirts and blouses along with some real high heels, in addition to my foundation garments. These also included my first corsets.
Up until then I had not worn any dresses or hose. When I showed up at work Monday, I was wearing hoop earrings, four-inch slides, smoky gray stockings and a Navy blue Chanel suit. My make up was full and slightly heavy for effect. I was also scented with Shalimar powder and perfume. I now was given the job of receptionist for Marie, who would occasionally have me assist her with making over the models.
I was really looking forward to the future. I knew now, I was destined to be a feminized sissy girl. I had found my niche. One day, one of the models said to me, "You know Reggie, with some proper training, you could easily begin posing in the background for shoots. After that, who knows how far you could go with it?" I was thrilled!
My next hurdle would be spending the holidays in the states while both Margo and my love, Mistress Phyllis were in France. Marie would see me through it.
After seeing Margo off to Paris for three weeks, Marie and I returned to Margo's house. "I want you to begin wearing maid's outfits Regina. I'll tell you which ones are proper for the time of day and the service being performed. You'll only be coming to the office a few days a week as I believe that Phyllis will want you home much of the time, when she first begins working for her aunt," she explained, using my new feminine name, Regina.
"You've begun speaking very well as a female and I must admit your movements and manners are those of an exquisitely trained senior maid. Your skills are becoming quite advanced also. Phyllis will be quite pleased and proud," she added, as she put me through my paces, having me curtsey, serve her coffee and sashay back to the kitchen.
With the holidays approaching, there were quite a few gifts under the tree. I had been permitted to shop for Phyllis only and mail it to France. However, nearly everyone concerned with my transformation had sent me at least one present.
One the eve of the holiday, after cleaning away the dishes, and sitting down in the living room with Marie, I began to cry. She came over to me, put her arm around me and comforted me, asking me what might be wrong.
"I'm just so lonely and confused," I sobbed. "I miss Phyllis terribly. I hope I'm doing the right things for us. I mean, what if she returns and thinks I look silly and garish? What if she doesn't want a sissy maid? What if she wants a real husband? I'll never be able to be like that. I know now, that I'm a true sissy girl at heart!" I wailed as Marie patted my back and babied me.
"Oh Regina, my darling lovely, Regina Marlene," she said using the very sexy, feminine, middle name I had been given. "You need not worry about that. I'm quite sure your Phyllis will adore her very prissy, sissy maid. Margo took some lovely pictures of you with her. Phyllis will probably call tomorrow quite thrilled," she added as she hugged me and kissed my forehead.
Pausing and holding me at arms length she smiled and said quite invitingly, "Besides, my womanish little angel, if she doesn't like you, both Margo and I have discussed sharing you. At least until we can find someone else as emasculated as yourself, and decide which one of us can have you. Trust me, each of us would love to have an effeminate maid and secretary such as yourself," she finished as she kissed me full on my glossy, wet crimson lips.
The mixing of our lipsticks really turned me on and I found myself being confused and stirred up sexually. "Please Miss Marie, don't do this? Not now. I want to be chaste for my Phyllis," I said in a womanish manner," as she laughed haughtily.
"Oh my! You want to be a virgin bride, do you? Well I don't think so, Little Regina. No well-trained sissy is ever a virgin. No mistress wants a squealing little fairy, wiggling and wriggling beneath her, on her honeymoon. Sorry princess, doctors orders. You're to be broken in properly, sort of my payment for training you. Come along," she said as she pulled me to the bedroom.
I didn't resist much, especially when she asked me, "Would you care for the birch rod first?
Soon I whined prettily, "No birch Mistress Marie. Just please be gentle? It's my first time.
"Oh I know that darling. If you're pleasant, sexy and passionate, I'll definitely be gentle on your virgin butt. Over the weeks I'll get you all set for your Mistress' visit in March," she smiled as she began to undress me.
Once we were both naked we fell into bed, our creamy lips joining in passion. I was dressed in a pair of ruffled sissy panties and had removed my butt plug in the bathroom. Her first lessons were to show me how to caress and tongue a woman's breasts. I really enjoyed this as Ms. Marie was heavily scented with French perfume and powder.
Next, I touched her clitoris, before being made to move my head there, and use my tongue and lips to lick and suck her love button. Once she had my penis sufficiently aroused, she flipped me over on my back and began to ride my penis, while pinning my arms back. When she did orgasm, she shuddered atop of me. She lay there as I kissed her eyelids and pushed gently on her stomach as it fluttered.
Finally, she had me get off the bed, and lie, on my back, on the floor. She then had me use my hands and feet to elevate myself and arch my back. "You will hold this position through your upcoming orgasm. You will not collapse until I tell you to do so. Any failure to comply will result in you being spanked with the birch," she added commandingly.
With my back arched, and holding myself up with my hands and feet she began to manipulate my penis, using her fingers, hands and lots of cold cream. As I neared orgasm, she gave me specific instructions to cry out at the moment of orgasm, "Mummy, mummy, your prissy Regina is squirting her sissy cream!" Doing things like this, never fails to embarrass me, but it really is a big part of being a transformed, dominated sissy.
We slept together that evening and opened our gifts the next day. All the girls at work got me sexy lingerie. My two mentors bought me sex toys and a toy box to put them in. My future wife got me perfumes, scents, powders and lotions. A few sissy fiends I had recently made through Margo and Marie's ladies club gave me mild bondage items like handcuffs and collars, plus a leash.
Phyllis called me that evening raving about my photos. I curled up in bed like a girl in love and spoke to her sexily, like the coquette I had become. My hair was tightly rolled in curlers and covered with a scarf. I had green facial cream on. Still I felt very sexy, because of what I would go through to be pretty. I longed to please her, and would go through anything to do so, including becoming her emasculated slave for life.
"Please, Regina Marlene, don't be nervous. You'll do fine," Ms. Margo said as she patted my hands, the day of my future wife's arrival. It was early spring. Phyllis would be home for two weeks. She would return to Europe until mid June. She would then come back, and hopefully, make me her bride.
"You're perfect darling, the picture of an exquisitely trained, senior maid. Trust me, my niece will be astounded at your progress. You're the consummate representation of a demure, boudoir servant." Ms. Margo stated, attempting to build my confidence.
I needed it. I was nervous. I wanted nothing to go wrong. I didn't want Phyllis to see me as some garish caricature, a sort of overdone drag queen. No, I wanted her to accept me for the well-trained sissy servant I had aspired to be for the last seven months.
I sat on the couch, next to Ms. Margo, my mentor. I was seated primly at the end of the cushion, posture ever so prissy, perfect and erect, hands folded demurely in my lap. I wore a "plus five" corset, and my waist was slimmed to a petite, 20 inches. My nails were quite long, well manicured and painted a shade called "Passions Plum." My lipstick matched, as always.
My shaven eyebrows were penciled in to give me a seductive high arch and the wide-eyed look of an empty headed tart. Ms. Marie had done my face make up professionally and any fashion model would have been pleased with the results. The cosmetics had been carefully blended to maximize my best features. My brunette locks had been highlighted with a subtle copper shade. I had been given a root lift to enhance my perm.
My hair, since the conception of my feminization, had been kept at chin length. The curls were soft and tousled, and framed my cheeks, the proper style for my station. Easy to care for, an attractive conservative coif, with just the right amount of flair, a pleasing submissive house girl, in the kitchen, the parlor, and the boudoir.
My dress was knee length, tight and restrictive at the hem. My heels were four-inch pumps, in black and matched my hose and dress. The dress had a high collar, and the sleeves, collar and front were trimmed in white lace. The heart shaped apron and small, maids cap perched on my sculpted locks, matched the lace trim, definitely not the outfit to do much housework in, but perfect for showy afternoon serving, in front of the girls from the club.
In my case, the show was being put on for Phyllis, who now was in the drive, getting out of the car. "Go into the kitchen and await your call, Regina. Marie and I will get her luggage, and settle her in. She'll suspect we have you hidden for a grand entrance. Don't fret, she'll play along," Ms. Marie said as she shooed me away.
I heard the front door open, some laughter and talking and then all the ladies went upstairs. Finally I heard them return to the living room and Phyllis ask, "Now where is my maid hiding? I want to be served by my maid," she said as Ms. Marie rang my call bell, and said, "So you shall be served my dear Phyllis."
I minced into the living room, balancing the tea tray, with a full pot, three cups, cream, spoons, and sweetener. My dangling ears bobs tickled my neck and I smiled slightly as I set the tray on a stand, and curtseyed to my Mistress, saying, "Welcome home, Mistress Phyllis, I do hope your flight was enjoyable, Madame."
"Indeed it was young lady and who might you be?" she asked, knowing full well I had a prepared, practiced answer.
"My name is Regina Marlene, Madame. I am your personal sissy," I said proudly, as I curtseyed with a flourish.
"Oh my. Aunt Margo and Marie! You did such a wonderful job! She even openly admits she's my sissy! She's adorable! I love it!" she said clapping her hands and hugging both my mentors, as she got up and continued, "Let's take a good look at you, Sissy Maid Regina. Turn around for me; hold up your skirts; very pretty. Now twirl for your mistress like a ballerina. Very good! Marie, we're going to have to get her a tutu!" she exclaimed as she sat down and dismissed me.
"Stand in the corner facing the wall, until we need you. Better yet. Aunt Margo, do you have housework for her to do at the moment?" she asked, wanting to exert her newfound authority.
"Actually, dear, she could go to your room and put your things away. Of course we'd have to pour our own tea, unless you want to call her to do it," Margo answered.
"Regina, I'll meet you later in my room. Unpack my luggage and put everything in its proper place," my mistress instructed me as I curtseyed and minced upstairs.
I was nearly finished with everything when Phyllis came into the room. She ignored my smart curtsey and helped me complete her unpacking before having me draw her bath and help her undress. "We hardly want you to ruin that dress bathing me. Remove it and put a pink terry cloth robe over your lingerie," she instructed me.
While she relaxed, I washed her body, shaved her legs, and shampooed her hair. After drying her and powdering her head to toe, she had me wrap a towel, turban style, over her hair, and she lay down naked on the bed. "You may massage me. Remain silent unless I speak to you and require an answer from you," she said in a queenly manner that I truly love and respect.
I did just as told and showed her the skills I had learned. First I massaged her front, then her back, before she instructed me to "Prepare yourself to be taken sexually by your mistress, Regina." I disrobed, down to my corset. I wanted her to see my new, pubescent breasts. I placed sexual aids and love lotions at the bed stand, before climbing into bed.
I feel so fortunate for the training given me by my mentors. As a born sissy, I had little experience, or knowledge with pleasing a female. Nor did I have much nerve in approaching a female. That evening, by doing everything I had been taught, and doing everything Phyllis told me, I was very successful at pleasing my mistress. As a sissy, I have little else to offer her. I'm certain she would never have proposed to me had I not shown her pleasure. I live for her. I want to be pretty and pleasing in all I do for Phyllis.
I cried tears of joy that evening from the wonderful orgasm she allowed me to have, as well as her proposal to me to become her bride, and enjoy a lifetime of sissy servitude basking in her presence. For the next two weeks I waited on Phyllis hand and foot. I loved it then and still do when she would introduce me to people as, "My sissy, Regina."
I was so thrilled the day we were married with her in white linen pant suit and me in my sissy bride's costume, a white Fifi Maid outfit, complete with ribbon streamers, attached to my cap. A honeymoon in Europe was the icing on the cake, complete with a full days entertainment at the country residence of Mrs. Silk. What a lovely beginning to any marriage!
Phyllis is seated at her vanity bench. I stand behind her, removing the hot rollers in her lovely head of hair. Earlier I'd given her a pedicure and manicure. She hates wearing rollers for any length of time. That's why I only give her roller sets with hot rollers, and even that is rare.
She won't ever sit under a dryer in a salon with rollers in. It would take an act of congress to get her to sleep in rollers. "Rollers are for sissies and southern belles," she says. I was only able to get her to let me set her hair because I told her how gorgeous she looks with her shoulder length, honey blond hair in big curls.
We're going to her ladies club for a dinner and a play. Her gold, satin pantsuit is hanging up. I look like a girl prepping for a date, kimono on, mules, hair rolled up, facial cream, big hoop earrings. My sleek gown, shimmering white with sequins, floor length and skintight is hanging beside her suit.
I brush, comb, and spray, until she says, "Enough my little beauty parlor pansy. I'm curled enough and any more hair spray and I'll smell like a sissy," she laughs.
Once we reach the club, Aunt Margo and Marie meet us, hug us both and say we're "Lovely." "How is your new home, you gorgeous lovebirds?" Aunt Margo asks.
"It's so big Aunt Margo, quite a lot of cleaning," I answer. I really know nothing else since I stopped working at the fashion house, cooking, cleaning, being pretty and lovemaking.
The play is very good. "My Fair Lady." Some how I deeply identify with the heroine. On the way home, Phyllis driving, I curl up next to her, so deeply in love. If any woman ever tells you she has some lessons she wants to give you, give her a chance. You may not have a choice. The benefits are endless. No decisions to make, pretty clothes, always something to do. Trust me. You won't regret it.