Mistress Psyche's Feminization Fantasies

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A Mother’s Dream Come True

By Nina

Tonight my lovely sixteen-year old twin daughters are going on their first real date. Their beaus will pick them up in a few minutes. I am somewhat saddened that this phase of their and my lives are coming to an end but they will always be my daughters. It wasn’t always that way. You see, Lorna and Linda were born Allen and Alex. They are identical twins. I was very old fashioned and, in spite of my husband’s protests, kept them in infants’ dresses until they were two. Shortly after they graduated to boy’s things my husband, their father, was killed in a tragic traffic accident. After the funeral I returned home, paid the baby sitter, took them in my arms and had a good cry. A day or two later I became bothered by the idea of how I would raise two boys without a father. Without making any connection, I resumed dressing them in their former clothes for nostalgic reasons.

All my neighbors, the few relatives and I had, always thought the boys actually looked too pretty to be boys. In their boy things they just looked like, well, boys. I decided to keep the status quo for a few months until I could sort things out. The ‘few months’ stretched into a year during which I, for no apparent reason, started dressing them as three-year old girls. I even provided them with girls’ toys. As they made friends they became accepted as little girls and of course they themselves didn’t know they weren’t girls. With the insurance proceeds we moved to a suburbs. I no longer had to worry about my neighbors’ opinions. I could start fresh. Of course my relatives, actually my mother, my younger sister and a maiden aunt thought my dress code was, to say the least, unusual but they were gradually getting used to it and grudgingly accepting it silently thinking I was a kook.

At six they were accepted into kinder garden as little girls. Birth certificates were neither requested nor offered. By this time I had introduced them to wearing snug, heavy panties to hide their tiny ‘bulges’. I also taught them never to show their private parts to anyone. At eight I managed to find very small panty girdles to better hid ‘it’, and more importantly to accustom them to gentle figure training to later be followed by stricter training. I had long since decided that they would always be raised as girls and young ladies and course, the ungainly figures that all boys have would not be tolerated. At ten, I added boning to their girdles. This was accepted as a matter of course, although they did occasionally ask why their classmates weren’t similarly attired.

As they approached their eleventh birthdays I decided that it was time for serious figure training before their rib bones began to harden and their figures got out of hand. I envisioned that at their sixteenth birthday their waists would be no larger than 20 inches. The only way to achieve that goal was with corsets. In conjunction with corsets I planned a course of hormone therapy that I heard, when started before puberty, had excellent results. My girls would lack nothing. They had already become conscious of the shape older girls had, and I frequently heard them behind the closed doors of their room comparing their little figures, nipped by the panty girdles into a gently defined waistline. Having been treated as girls from a very young and formative age and shielded from most outside activities they didn’t have the faintest idea that they were not real girls. As I made an appointment with a corsetiere I wondered how they would take to corsets. I was sure that after the initial shock they would soon be secretly comparing their figures in their room. Vanity is already well established in eleven-year old girls. Perhaps they would even develop a competition?

Before their visit to the corsetiere I prepared them for their fitting. I explained what corsets were and that they might be uncomfortable at first but before long they would love wearing them and hate to remove them. The prospect of having nice figures intrigued them. I also explained that not many girls wore them and to avoid ridicule in school I would have them tutored at home. By the time I finished they were ready and willing to try them.

The next morning we took the train to downtown Chicago for their fitting. The receptionist greeted us and ushered us into the fitting room. The corsetiere, Sally, introduced herself and asked the girls to undress and put on little nylon slips. I had apprised Sally that the girls were actually boys when I made the appointment so there was no element of surprise. Sally made numerous measurements, entering them on her clipboard. She them showed me a catalog of corset styles. I originally selected a style that extended from just under the bust to the top of the thighs. She noted that I had made a good choice but suggested that the corset incorporate a bra top. “I call it a corselette or a full body corset. The corset will push up flesh and the cups will mold it into small breasts”, she suggested. I agreed. Just to give the girls and idea of what it was like to wear a corset she brought out two stock corsets. She wrapped one around Linda’s little body, fastened the busk and began drawing the laces closed. It was then that I noticed, for the first time (I presumed),Linda’s ‘it’ stiffened. At that point I decided it was high time to look into hormone therapy for them. Sally noticed it also and whispered to me, “I guess he likes being corseted. Most of the young boys I corset become “tensioned” when laced for the first time”. Later in private she recounted many instances of young boys wearing corsets. “I corset more boys than girls these days. Some are corseted as punishment, some are like your boys, and some teenage boys have been known to request it for whatever reason. Some of the first two groups resent it at first but soon come to accept and even like wearing them. Of course the latter teenagers enjoy it from the start.” My boy/girls were upset when Sally removed their trial corsets. I felt sorry for them and asked Sally to re-corset them and I would buy the corsets for them to wear until the custom ones were ready. Before leaving I decided that I would wear a corset also. My choice was a full body corselette similar, except for size, to my girls’. My figure left a lot to be desired so I was measured and fitted. Besides, it would be good for the girls to see their mother wearing similar clothes. I bought a temporary corset for me to wear home. As we walked to the train I had a few misgivings about wearing a corset but I felt it was indeed necessary.

A week later we returned for their custom corsets. The girls were very excited. To allay any trepidation the girls might have I had Sally fit my custom corset first. It was identical in style to the girls but of course much larger. As she tightened the laces I had some additional misgivings about my decision to wear a corset but a quick glance in the mirror told me it was going to be worth it. My sagging figure assumed an upright stance and my tummy vanished. My breasts were firmly secured in place. Besides, I did have to set an example for my girls. Sally quickly had both of them laced into their corsets. I was pleased to note that they were quite long; with the bra tops, they extended from the top of the breastbone to an inch or so below their crotches. As soon as Sally started lacing them their little “its” tried to peak out under the corset bottoms but the corset length effectively kept the bulge to a minimum. The girls fussed a bit as the corsets were tightened. These were smaller, longer and stiffer than the temporary stock ones they had been wearing since the initial fitting. She stopped when the laces were two inches from closing saying, “That’s enough for today. It would be better for them if you reduced the gap a small amount every day till they are closed. It’s better to get used to being tight laced gradually. That way the “girls” won’t object.” Saying that, she proceeded to insert foam rubber falsies into the bra tops. The corsets were equipped with four garters per leg. Sally also provided nylons to anchor their corsets. The girls did comment on how nice the nylons felt as they tugged against the pull of the garters. Linda and Lorna looked at each other and were fascinated by their shape, as was I. My girls were shaped like fourteen-year old girls.

Their outer clothes were not at all suited to their new shapes and their shoes did not go with the nylons, so I decided to stop on the way home and get them some new things. Sally suggested that they wear their panty girdles over the corsets for modesty reasons. That done we left the corset shop. The first stop was a dress boutique. The attendants marveled at their figures, not realizing at first that they were wearing corsets. When the girls disrobed for the dress fittings, the corsets astounded the attendants, noting that they had never seen such young girls, or any girls for that matter, wearing them. Without further adieu they proceeded to bring a variety of dresses and skirts to try on, mostly just above the knee skirt length. The dresses hung perfectly on their corseted forms. The girls were very pleased with their appearance. I was sure at that point that they would never tire of their corsets. I let them wear dresses of their choice home. Walking along the street I couldn’t help but think how lovely and old my daughters appeared.

 The next stop was a shoe store. Apparently the young male clerk was similarly impressed by their appearance. He couldn’t stop trying to peak under their skirts as he fitted the shoes. He also seemed to fondle their legs as he held them to slip the shoes on their feet. A bulge in his trousers told me he was enjoying himself. Strangely the girls’ facial expressions appeared to indicate that they too were enjoying the attention: the little hussies. Each girl left with some dressy flats and several pair with two-inch heels. On an impulse I got them each a pair of black patents with three-inch heels, why I did escaped me at the time. They wore the shorter heels home. They were a bit wobbly at first but soon took to the heels. How lovely they looked; just like a pair of young teenagers. I knew that I had made the right decision when they were babies. There’s nothing wrong with boys except they never look pretty. By the time we reached the train station they had received many admiring glances and a few wolf whistles. They were well pleased with themselves.

After the first few days I allowed them to lace each other provided that they didn’t force their waist reductions. As per Sally’s advice I limited them to one quarter inch reduction a week. They begged to go further but I insisted and they complied. I had read once long ago that reduction is more easily accomplished if one sleeps in one’s corset so I established that routine. The girls didn’t seem to mind. They were taking to the idea of wearing corsets as a way of life. By the time they were wearing their corsets with the laces closed they become upset when they had to remove them for bathing. At that time their waists were a diminutive twenty-three inches, a trip to Sally’s shop would soon be necessary.

I set up two appointments the next day, Sally’s and the doctor. The family doctor had delivered the twins and had provided care as they were growing up. He was therefore familiar with their transition. It was obvious he accepted my “conditioning” of them by the fact that he never questioned it. When I mentioned the hormone therapy He just smiled and asked, “What took you so long, we could have started a year ago. But not to worry, they’ll turn out just fine.” A few minutes later they had their first shots. “The use of injections will speed up the conversion process but after a few months we can administer the hormones orally”, he assured me. “One more thing, the hormones will slightly inhibit their sex drive but young boys have too much anyway. They will still be able to ‘enjoy’ themselves.” Instinctively I knew they would. It always seemed to take them an unusually long time to lace each other, much longer than necessary and then there were the spots on the bed sheets. Should I have them sleep in separate rooms? I mentioned it to the doctor but his only comment was, “don’t worry, boys will be boys or in their case girls.”

The next stop was at Sally’s. She made a few measurements and suggested that even though my goal was twenty inches the corsets be made for twenty-one. “A three inch gap would be uncomfortable at first until it was reduced. You can pick up the additional inch when these are closed. Who knows, you might even want to take another two-inch step to nineteen the next visit.” I assured her that twenty was our limit but I agreed with the two-inch reduction step. I also requested that she add a few more stays. The girls overheard us taking and wanted to know why they couldn’t have smaller waists. I assured them that mother knows best.

By their twelfth birthday they had well defined breasts due to the hormones and the falsies were relegated to the trashcan. They were accumulating body fat over the hips that gave their shapes a more rounded look. A side effect of the particular type of hormone the doctor prescribed was that their growth was inhibited so they probably never would be taller than five foot five or six. My girls were absolutely gorgeous. Only I knew they were boys. They didn’t even suspect they were males. They were happy in their world so let them be. Besides they were well past the point of no return. Some day they were bound to find out but I was sure they would never want to change. They had been corseted for so long that leaving them off was not only unthinkable, but also impossible. Their bodies could not go unsupported.

My girls seemed happy with their way of life. In the quiet of the night I could hear them giggling in their bed, punctuated by an occasional moan of pleasure. I have no idea of their activities except to say there were rarely spots on the sheets anymore. I decided that their tutor was becoming suspicious so I began a secret search for one who had, shall I say, a different outlook on life? My efforts finally bore fruit (no pun intended). A Miss Alice ------- applied for the position. ‘She’ was a fairly young, attractive crossdresser who obviously had a love, or at least need for tight lacing. My only concern was that the subconscious “boy” in my girls might find an attractive younger “lady” desirable. That did not happen. Apparently the hormones were effective in suppressing any latent desires. As I look back if they had become infatuated with her it wouldn’t have been a bad thing. They thought of her as a girl and they were physically similar. Under her guidance the girls were doing well academically.

I loved to take them out in public. We frequently went to restaurants and the theater, both plays and movies. I purchased semiformal dresses for the plays. Dressed this way they appeared to be fifteen year old girls. After seeing an ad for shoulder length rubber gloves I sent for some and a rubber polish that was advertised. These they wore when dressed in their fancy dresses, the longer sleeves hiding the full length of the gloves. The latter were skintight and when polished could easily be taken for patent leather. The girls loved the feel of them and frequently begged to wear them more often. I declined their request saying that it would be more discrete not to display the full length of the gloves. I did allow it with less formal attire if the dresses had long sleeves. People sometimes would stare at them as if trying to figure out what the material was. The girls were so taken with their gloves that they usually wore them to bed. After finding that their long nails were puncturing the glove fingers I came up with the idea of wearing surgical gloves underneath the long gloves, that were quite expensive, to take the brunt of abuse. The added restraint limited the use of their fingers but not excessively. They were quite able to eat while wearing them. I was certain that they could wrap their fingers around small things if you know what I mean. I never heard any complaints.

Walking with the girls was a wonderful experience. Their carriage was perfect. The corsets kept their young bodies as stiff as a ramrod. Their derrieres swayed as only a tightly corseted body can. The motion was extremely provocative judging by the admiring glances they received. The girls had become little coquettes and returned the glances with broad smiles. I often wondered what the boys would think if they knew the gorgeous, waspwaisted girls they were admiring were actually boys. At thirteen I allowed their skirts to rise to mid thigh giving passersby fleeting glimpses of their gartered stocking tops, a rare sight in this age of pantyhose. In restaurants the sight of them taking their seats was a joy to behold. I was sure of what the young admirers, and the older ones too, would do when they got home. When we rode the train males would parade back and forth just to look at my pretties and my girls ate up the attention. They were gorgeous and sexy and they knew it and flaunted it at every opportunity.

As their fourteenth birthdays were approaching another event was about to take place. Their academic training had reached the level where they would be ready for high school in the fall. This posed a problem. Alice, their boy/girl tutor only had credentials through the eighth grade level. I decided that I would enroll them in an exclusive girls’ school, one that didn’t have a physical education program for obvious reasons. I didn’t know what to do about Alice. She was only about five years younger than I. She was unattached and not gay. Over the years we had developed an attraction for each other. We had been lacing each other’s corsets, a very intimate action, for the whole time and naturally one thing led to another. My girls weren’t the only ones who became ‘tensioned’ when laced into a corset. To put it plainly, we were in love. I had always wanted to write novels and I decided that she would make an ideal live-in secretary and editor for my writings. For the sake of the girls we would keep our relationship openly as employer/employee. After the ‘lights were out’, well making love to a pretty transvestite was something special. Alice agreed to go along with my idea.

Entering the girls in the girls’ school was easy since many years ago I had managed to have their birth certificates change. The school had no official uniforms so I would be able to dress them in loose fitting dresses thereby concealing their corseted waists. They would have to be content with low heel ordinary shoes during school hours. The coquettish high heels would have to wait until they were home. Their use of makeup would also be restricted. The girls were very unhappy about it all but the soon realized that it was necessary. They entered school without any problems. They looked like any other girls their age. When they returned home the first day they literally flew to their rooms and soon emerged dressed to the nines in form fitting mini dresses and four-inch heels. I thought they looked much better that way than in their rather drab school outfits. I even missed seeing their tightly laced figures, their corsets had been changed once more and they now had twenty-inch waists, a few years ahead of my schedule. Someday, if a special occasion arose I might order nineteen-inch corsets for them. I knew they wanted them and so did I. After a few weeks in class some of the other girls, in spite of their loose clothes realized that my girls were tightly corseted, and the word spread around the school. Most of the comments were complimentary and or envious, although a few wondered why girls in this day and age would wear such old fashioned ‘things’. The novelty soon wore off and I allowed the girls to wear tighter clothes although nothing like their regular things.

For their fifteenth birthday I decided to have a dinner party. They invited a few of their closer friends from school. Some of their friends had brothers and boy cousins about the same age so they were also invited. I made it known that we would go to dinner at ----------- restaurant and the dress would not be casual. For the day my girls wore formfitting mini dresses and four-inch heels. Their corsets were laced closed as usual. The dresses had belts that emphasized their lovely figures. Had I known the attraction corsets have to males I might have had them wear looser things. The boys fell over them, taking every opportunity to brush against them and even hug them. I was sure that the other girls felt slighted by the attention that Linda and Lorna were receiving but all went well. From then on the girls were deluged with requests for dates but I put my foot down. At the party I saw too many longing stares and trouser bulges to allow dating.

At the end of their sophomore year the girls were approaching sweet sixteen and never been kissed; fondled perhaps but never kissed. Several boys that had attended their party last year were juniors and planned to attend the prom. The asked my girls to accompany them. I was reluctant but the girls begged so that I relented. I had misgivings because they and the boys hormones were raging and I was afraid of an ‘incident’. With real girls a little necking would be acceptable but in this case if one of the boys discovered their true identity, and I was sure that they would try to feel the girls up, there would be hell to pay. I decided it was time for nineteen- inch corsets and an appointment was made. We still had two months but I knew that it would take a few weeks to get used to the increased restriction. The corsets were ordered and fitted. I thought the girls might like under bust corsets and wear bras to better display their maidenly charms. They were adamant. They insisted on the full body corsets they were so used to wearing. Linda even commented, “I would feel naked in a shorter corset”. Alice and I gave them impromptu dancing lessons, which they took to immediately. Their quick learning was probably due to watching shows on TV.

 A day or two later I decided the time had come. It was with reluctance, fear and trepidations that I took the next step. Shortly after dinner one evening I called the girls into the living room and had them sit down, one on each side of me and put my arms around them. I started out, “there’s something I have to tell you. It’s very difficult to say but it’s something I should have told you years ago. First of all, a long time ago a lady with two baby boys lost her husband. She was convinced that she could never cope with raising two boys so she raised them as girls. You two and Alice are girls, only there’s one problem, I don’t know how to explain it. Oh hell, I can’t beat around the bush, I’ll just come out straight”. Linda interrupted, ‘Let me make it easy for you Mom. Lorna and I have known for a year that we weren’t girls. We discovered it at our birthday party when the boys hugged us. We could feel the hard things between their legs pressing against us. We also saw the bulges in boy trousers as they stare at us. It didn’t take an IQ of 200 to figure out that we had the same thing and if they were boys, so were we. We were initially upset after the party but after we compared notes we quickly decided that we loved wearing all our pretty things and were so used to the delightful sensations of wearing corsets that we didn’t care. We’d rather be girls and be admired and sought after than be dull, drably dressed boys. Besides being girls is all we’ve ever known and we love it. We didn’t want to upset you so we kept quiet”. The weight of the world fell off my shoulders. They knew all along and never mentioned it. We kissed and had a good cry of joy together. We were still a happy family. Later they even thanked me for giving them an unforgettable lifestyle. A quick lesson on the facts of life followed. I told them they must never let a boy find out. Boys tend to get violent when they’ve been fooled or deceived. If the situation got intimate tell them it was your time of the month. If things still got out of hand there were two ways to satisfy a boy without giving yourself away. The detailed explanation didn’t appear to shock them; after all they did sleep together.

When the corsets were delivered the girls started their training regimen. Within two weeks they were down to nineteen inches. Now we could have formal dresses made to fit their figures. The dressmaker marveled at their figures and their ability to wear such restrictive corsets. They would wear identical gowns and after a little bickering decided on black satin with long sleeves, presumably so they could wear their long rubber gloves, which they dearly loved, unobtrusively. From two feet away one couldn’t tell that they were rubber. When they touched their escorts they would know, but girls wearing anything made of rubber fascinate most males and increases the mystique. When they tried on the gowns for the first time I couldn’t believe my eyes. A tight fitting long, black, shiny satin dress worn over a nineteen-inch corset is a sight to behold. They would be the belles of the ball. For the occasion I bought them black patent shoes with five-inch heels. The day of the prom I took them in for the ‘works’ at the beauty shop. We had been there before but usually for a hair set or permanent. Yes the girls’ hair was real, reaching to their waist. They had it lightened to a light brown and coiled coquettishly on top of their heads. With the professionally applied makeup my girls were absolutely gorgeous. They would break a lot of hearts at the prom.

As soon as we reached home I proceeded to get them dressed. The long rubber gloves that they loved went on first. I purposely didn’t polish them. The dull finish more closely resembled black kidskin. They carefully lowered the dresses over their fancy hairdos. How the dresses hugged their tightly corseted waists. If one looked closely the corset laces image could be slightly detected. Diamond solitaire pierced earrings adorned their lovely faces. Tastefully designed necklaces completed the neckline look. A short corset would have allowed a display of cleavage but they wanted the full body corsets so that was out. They looked very sexy in spite of it. How could they help but look that way with a tightly corseted nineteen-inch waist? The high heels just peaked out under the hem of the dresses. They wore rhinestone bracelets over their rubber-gloved wrists.

It wasn’t long before the doorbell rang and the moment they were waiting for arrived. They purposely left their coats of at my suggestion to let the boy feast their eyes on their magnificent figures, and feast they did. I thought their eyes would pop out of their heads. The boys were speechless at first. They finally gained their composure as the girls introduced them. Linda’s beau was Ken who managed to stammer “My pleasure meeting you”. Lorna’s beau was Tom who could only manage a “hi”. As the boys helped the girls put on their coats the girls deliberately brushed the boys’ faces with their gloved hands. The look on their faces was definitely one of approval. The ‘unique’ feel of the gloves did not repulse them even though this was probably the first time they ever met girls who wore them. As they slipped the coats on the girls they made sure their hands lingered on the girls’ tightly laced waists, another first I was sure.

It suddenly occurred to me that the corsets and gloves were bait for the boys as I noticed a familiar ‘bulge’ in their trousers when they left the house. Since the boys were too young to drive, Ken’s mother was taking them to and from the party and was also one of the chaperons. There might be some heavy petting and touchy feely in the back of the SUV but nothing else. It would be good for the girls to get some experience in that area since they were growing up and someone’s mother wouldn’t always be driving. Shortly after eleven they returned as promised. Smeared lipstick told me there was some activity in the back seat. As we sat and talked the girls admitted that they enjoyed dancing and being held close. They were the belles of the ball. They hardly had a chance to dance with their escorts. They were dumbfounded that the boys all seemed to be ‘tensioned’ when they danced with them. The little hussies even admitted that they were ‘tensioned’, especially when their escorts kissed and held them during the ride home. My little girls had grown up. I hoped that someday they would meet understanding boys. I was glad that I didn’t have to worry about them meeting some gold digging girls who would love them and leave them. Me? A few months later Alice and I were married. She wore male clothes (with her corset and nylons underneath), briefly for the ceremony. The girls and my cousin were my bridesmaids. My elderly aunt was the guest of honor. My mother was the matron of honor. I was corseted to twenty-two inches for my wedding dress; not too bad for a forty-year old woman. Shoulder length white rubber gloves covered my hands. By some quirk of fate I became pregnant. When our baby boy was born, Alice and I named him Leslie. It would save confusion with changing his birth certificate later on. You realize that we intended to raise him as a girl, corsets and all. Linda and Lorna were enthusiastic about having a half sister. Leslie would get more than enough attention. I had everything a mother could ask for. My dreams came true.

The End

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