Sissykins: A Perfect Sissy

Sissykins: A Perfect Sissy

Susie had called me just before quitting time. I could tell she was excited, her words rapidly flowing out of her mouth, her speech slightly slurred. She wanted me to meet her at our favorite restaurant for dinner, her treat. That in itself was unusual, her job as a stylist for one of the salons in town paid well, but the restaurant we liked was very much on the expensive side. I told her I could be there at five-thirty, a little over an hour from now. I smiled, it is not often my wife gets excited about anything, whatever this is she is totally wound up.

I finished up my work, put things away and headed out. It was about a thirty minute drive to our favorite eatery, the whole trip spent wondering what has happened to make her so jubilant. As I parked she was walking back and forth in front of the place looking for my car. Wow, this news must be awesome for her to get this wrapped up in it. As soon as I parked she was at my car door dragging my body out. Then as she leaned forward she planted an erotic kiss on my lips while squeezing my ass. No complaints from me, but it did make me wonder what her news is. Well wonder is not nearly strong enough, concerned might be a better choice of words. I headed towards the door as she was glued to my side making walking a little difficult.

We were seated right away, since she had called ahead and made reservations. A private booth in one of their alcoves no less. Now I was more than intrigued, this was costing her a bundle, the private booth even too expensive for me to use, when I made reservations for us on occasion. Then to add to the mystery our drinks were brought to us right away, along with an appetizer. She had apparently ordered ahead since we never were offered a menu. I stared at her, trying to get her to spill the beans, I couldn’t even think of anything that could have happened to cause this much excitement for her. All I got was a smirk from her, now she was purposefully denying me the reason for her being so happy. A favorite game of hers when she could manage to pull it off. I asked key questions to try and get some useful information from her, but alas she was on top of her game, vaguely answering my questions but not a hint of what was behind all of this.

I finally gave up, knowing I would not find out anything until she was ready to divulge it. The meal was delicious, everything I loved to eat and never allowed myself to order mainly because of the cost. After we had finished eating the check was brought out. I watched closely as she took a look at it, then reached into her purse and pulled out a platinum Am. Express card. She signed the ticket leaving a tip on it that was quite substantial. The waiter brought her a copy of the bill then closed the curtain around the booth allowing us some privacy. She scooted up right next to me, taking my hand in hers and delivering another toe curling kiss. I was told to remain quiet until she had explained everything, then I will be allowed a question or two. Another erotic kiss and she started in.

Her boss Francine, the owner of the salons came in today and took her out to lunch. Since I was booked up solid another stylist had to take a couple of my customers to free me up. She is building another salon in town a branch of her Turnabout Gurl Salons, the one I am presently employed at.

“I was offered the position of general manager of the new salon, to finish setting it up and hire the necessary staff to run it. I am also responsible for the advertising for the new salon, doing whatever is necessary to make it successful. We talked for over three hours with her giving me some hints on what she envisions for the new salon and how she would like to see it developed.”

“I was reluctant to take the job, since it seemed way above what I could handle. We talked some more while she asked me how I would develop the concept if it was up to me. My mind came up with several ideas, not having a clue where they came from. After I finished telling her my ideas, she reached over and hugged me, telling me I start tomorrow. Before I could say anymore I was handed a sheet with my name on the top, with a salary figure that blew my mind, a long list of benefits and attached to the sheet the American Express card I used tonight. I was given the address of the new salon, with her telling me that it would be ready to accept customers in ten days.”

I was told to take you out to dinner tonight, wining and dining you. Keep in mind that maybe he could fill an essential part in the development of the new salon. Maybe an example of what the new salon could do for its customers. I have been thinking about it all day, and you know she is right. A perfect spot for you, my beloved close to me where I can indulge in some kissing and groping when I desire it. But even better a perfect example of what is possible at the salon. Best of all it is where I can take care of you, seeing to your every need in the days to come.

Now the part you might be reluctant to participate in. The name of the new salon is Turnabout Sissies, where all of the cute sissies come to get sissified and find dreamy clothes to wear. We do everything from changing their apparent gender, to providing the cute dresses a sissy needs to wear. That includes makeup, a cute sissy hairstyle, long elegant nails and many other feminine treatments.

You will be ideal as the perfect sissy, one that prospective customers can look at and see how there own sissy might look after their transformation. No work involved, just allow us to transform you into the perfect sissy, then just be available to be seen when customers arrive.

I scooted away from her wanting to put a little more distance between us till I could figure out exactly what my part in this would entail. She was not to be deterred, following me closely with me now pinned up against the end of the booth. She leaned in and unleashed the big guns, the kiss that I then experienced causing a great turmoil within my body. I wanted to let go and enjoy the kiss, even junior had risen to the occasion, but alarm bells were going off. I doubted if I let my guard down I would be long for the masculine gender. Her hand found my erection and worked its magic, causing a few low moans to escape my lips. Another kiss and I had a hard time remembering my name, much less anything else.

The assault on my senses continued for quite some time, with me finally giving in some and allowing her to try her idea on me. I was sure I would look ridiculous, so one look at the finished product and she will have to make other plans. There was some doubt though, I am far from being classified as a he man, a life behind a desk not much for developing a male physique. At one hundred and thirty pounds and a little over five foot six, my real claim to be male resided with having a substantial male organ. Well, I thought it was substantial. One that my wife adored and took advantage of extensively.

I had mistakenly let my hair grow longer than normal, a fact that might make my transformation easier for her. Too late to do anything about the length now.

She continued her assault, with me twisting and turning trying to keep from coming right there in the restaurant. She sensed how close I was, kissing me hard, her tongue in my mouth almost to my throat. It did muffle my vocal outburst, while I deposited quite a load of goo in my underwear. Then just like nothing happened, she slid out of the booth and dragged me along. Right through the crowded restaurant, my face so red, with my one hand trying to cover up my groin some. I am sure there was quite a wet spot there, the thin pants I wore today not doing anything to hide the problem.

Once outside I looked down at my groin, seeing a huge wet spot, with trails of wetness down both pant legs. I was already bright red, so there was no further enhancement possible in the humiliation department. Suzie’s remark about me wearing diapers in the future not of any help.

She had me leave my car at the restaurant, she would have someone retrieve it tomorrow. I was helped into her car having to sit on a towel so as to not get the seat wet. She headed off looking my way often. To make matters worse she did not drive towards home, but to the new salon. I pleaded with her, but sitting in a puddle of your own cum not very much of a confidence builder. Arriving at the salon I was impressed at the size of the place, meanwhile she was leading me in and back to one of the rooms at the rear of the salon. I was quickly assisted in losing my clothes, the soiled pants and underwear put in a garbage bag. Now naked I was helped up onto a table and secured there, arms and legs in restraints at the side and end of the table. I was in a daze watching what she was doing, but did not utter a peep, content to just watch and hope for the best..

Protesting was now an afterthought, since I was already helpless to do anything about it. She took a towel and cleaned me up. More red showing up, a wife seeing to the aftermath of her effect on me. I found my voice, asking to be let go, then muttering words about how I couldn’t control myself, she just leaned in again and laid another sensuous kiss on me silencing my mutterings.

When she withdrew her face from mine, she had a pair of tongs in her hand, reaching into my mouth with them and grabbing my tongue. I stared at her trying to figure out what she was doing. The tongs had locked onto my tongue, words were now impossible and my mouth was open in disbelief. She placed something around my tongue, right behind the clamped on tongs. I felt her snap something shut and the tongs were removed from my mouth. Whatever she had placed around my tongue was secure, nothing I tried would dislodge it. I tried to say a few words, but nothing came out but gibberish.

She smiled at me, now that we have that mouth controlled we can take care of other matters. I tried to make a pitiful face at her, but she just gave me another kiss and continued with her agenda.

Once more she cleaned around my male organ, then applied an ice pack to the area. I violently twisted and turned trying to avoid the sudden cold. Another string of gibberish escaping my mouth, but to no avail. The ice had started melting before she removed the ice pack, then she started fitting something around my frozen male appendage. I couldn’t feel anything down there still in shock at what was transpiring. I heard a click, then Suzie placed a necklace around her neck with a single key on it. I looked down at my groin now only seeing my penis locked in a tube, with an attached band behind my testicles. My substantial male organ now shrunk and quite pathetic.

Another kiss from Suzie, then she proceeded to slip a diaper under my butt. I closed my eyes tightly, hoping this nightmare would cease to exist once I opened them again. No such luck, the diaper being secured around my body with pink diaper pins. It felt like more than one diaper, so much between my legs I couldn’t put them together any more.

She did gather up both of my hands in hers after releasing me, explaining what she had done and why. The tongue clamp was to limit my ability to complain, you agreed to help and we have to see if you will make a suitable sissy. The chastity device is to make sure you don’t spurt off again. Really right in the restaurant, your timing needs some adjusting. The diaper is to make my life easier, so I don’t have to constantly clean up behind you. Now I need to find you some shoes and a dress and then see what we have managed to accomplish. I was left there hands free but feet still restrained. I laid there wondering where all of this is going, and why I have put up with everything so far.

The dress she came back with was so over the top, a short little piece of nothing that barely covered my groin. Lacey, and covered in pictures of kitties, a most juvenile looking dress. The shoes though took the prize, nothing but a jumble of straps attached to a towering heel. It took her twenty minutes to affix them to my foot, I could see removing them would be nearly impossible. Finally released from the table I was helped to stand, then dragged over to a mirror. As soon as I saw my image I knew all was lost, a cute sissy dressed in heels and a juvenile dress was all there was to see. I imagine when she added other treatments she would have her sissy for advertising purposes. I closed my eyes, let out a huge sigh and tried to think of how I could live with this.

But soon remembered I didn’t have any choice. Already resembling a sissy, with just a dress, diaper and heels, further enhancements likely to put me firmly in the sissy hall of fame.

As if that was not enough, she led me to a chair near a sink, washed and conditioned my hair, then added a spray of something to the lock of hair in her hand then wound it on a curler. Repeated many times over my whole head receiving the curlers. Way too many to count each curler wound tight giving me a slight headache.

Next on her agenda was to do my makeup. She used more makeup than I thought possible, but the image in the mirror reflected the look she was striving for. I looked much younger, and so juvenile. It didn’t even look like I had any makeup on. A stint under the dryer to set my curls, then when she brushed it out I now looked like I was eight or nine years old, just big for my age.

Her smile said it all, I would be her perfect sissy from now on, confined to her salon showing all the customers what their own sissy could look like.

I was then taken home, dressed as a sissy, to be taken care of like a child from now on. When we entered the house, things had changed. The playpen in the middle of the living room an indication of the degree of changes. I was led back to the guest bedroom, to find it had been turned into a nursery. A crib, a changing table and a shelving unit loaded with diapers. My diaper was changed, and then a onesie replaced my infant dress. The heels were replaced by a pair of lacy socks. Ribbons were wrapped around each curl of my hair to keep the curls from getting tangled up during the night. The look so childish.

I was helped up into the crib, a strap secured over my stomach to keep me from rolling out of the crib. The strap buckled underneath the crib, so that I could not release it. A kiss on the end of my nose and she turned on the mobile over the crib. Sleep well Sissykins, you have a long day tomorrow.

I was left there, put to bed and it was not even seven o’clock. She returned about fifteen minutes later with a baby bottle in her hands. I shook my head, not wanting anything to do with what she was planning for me. The nipple of the bottle was slipped into my mouth, my tongue no longer able to push it out. My throat was rubbed a little, causing me to start sucking on the nipple. The warm milk had the desired effect, I was soon asleep after finishing the bottle.

I did wake up later, my diaper soaked, causing me to cry and whine wanting out of the crib along with a dry diaper. Mommy to the rescue, my diaper changed then I was put back in my crib. I did get back to sleep dreaming of cure little sissy dresses and being ogled at the new salon.

She woke me up with a kiss on the nose, then changed my diaper yet again. She dressed me in another sissy dress, this one had tons of petticoats attached, but was so short my diaper was still visible. Off to the salon for my first day of being seen, advertising what the salon could do for their sissy. The salon had not had a grand opening yet, but was open to the public as they finished setting up the styling areas. I was surprised at the number of customers they had so early in the morning, from my vantage point in the play pen near the reception area. I was placed in my home for the day, as a belt was fastened around my waist keeping me in the playpen. I couldn’t unfasten the belt, since my hands had been placed in mittens, rendering them useless.

Most of the females coming into the salon with their future sissies stopped to take in my appearance, telling the receptionist they wanted their sissy to look like me. My future sealed, a sissy for all to see and emulate. A perfect sissy.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Goldilocks: Sentenced To Be A Sissy

Goldilocks: Sentenced To Be A Sissy

Somehow my wife had talked me into this ridiculous costume for the costume party we were planning to attend. The costume party was a family tradition, one that my family had been participating in for over ten years. In the past I had attended as a pirate, a clown, and one year as a go go girl.

That was a year I so wanted to forget, luckily for me I was not married at the time. The kidding and teasing were awful, seemingly everyone made remarks or comments about my costume and my sexual orientation. No telling what my wife would have thought of my portrayal.

My sister is a beautician, so she was the one who transformed me into the hot go go girl. Of course, she tells the story every year complete with pictures, watching me twist and squirm as she relates the story to anyone who will listen.

I don’t think I have ever done anything to her to cause her to embarrass me in front of everyone. I have pleaded with her, even begged her to let the story be, but all I get is a smirk from her. Then she goes ahead and tells the story to any interested parties.

I don’t know where my wife came up with the idea for this year’s party, but I so wished she had never considered it. Her idea is that we would attend the party as two young sissies. Jennifer, my wife, did talk to Melody, my sister, about the costumes, but arranged for her salon in town to make the changes so we looked like young sissies and supply our dresses for the evening. I was dead set against the idea, but Jennifer had her mind set so there was no avoiding the change to sissy hood. I was extremely pleased that Melody was not going to be involved in the transformation itself, her possible involvement scared the living shit out of me.

From what Jennifer described, it would not be that intrusive, some body hair removed, hair curled and nails done. Then identical sissy dresses suitable for a young sissy, no older than two or three. She had arranged for the dresses to be made, to fit our bodies, the pattern for these dresses available in most any young girl’s boutique. I was shown a picture of the dress, shaking my head at the thought of wearing it. It was way too short with tons of petticoats, that description fitting the dress to a tee.

I still dreaded the day for the appointment at the salon, but Jennifer’s persistence did eventually get me to the salon. We were separated once in the salon, Jennifer taken to one side of the salon and me to the other. In a private room they started on me, my clothes removed so they could see what had to be done.

A cream to remove my body hair, face and eyebrows included was first. I tried to stop her from doing my eyebrows but by the time I was aware of what she intended it was too late.

Then my hair washed and conditioned, then set in curlers. The tech working on my hair kept consulting a card with what was to be done to me. After another look at the card, my hair was sprayed liberally with a liquid, then I was pushed under a dryer. The cream was removed on my way to the dryer, all of my body hair with it.

While the dryer was droning on, my nails were the next item to be handled. The tech consulted the card again, then got up and retrieved some other things to use to do my nails. I did get a funny look from her, like she couldn’t understand why I wanted the changes to my scheduled manicure. It took her quite awhile to get the extensions added now my nails extended past my fingertips by almost an inch. Then several coats of polish were applied and dried. I did wonder about the length of the nails, but figured if Jennifer is getting the same thing I could live with mine this long. It was only for the costume party, so tomorrow a return back to normal.

Once my hair was dry, I was moved to a reclining chair for the next step. It had places for my feet, as she placed each foot in a stirrup, then fastened a strap to hold it there. She placed a blindfold over my eyes, explaining it is better if I don’t peek until she is finished. It took her quite awhile to do what she needed to do, I couldn’t feel anything after she sprayed my groin with a liquid. I felt her touching me lightly, but couldn’t tell what she was doing to me down there.

She also did something with my calves of my leg, a pin prick the only thing I felt as she worked on them. As she released my feet from the stirrups she slid a shoe on my foot, then fastened a strap to hold it securely. I was helped up out of the chair, wavering quite a bit as I tried to get my balance with the shoes that had been put on me.

I still had the blindfold on as she moved me over to another area. I was asked to open my mouth, she needed to spray my throat, to raise my voice into the feminine range. It seemed apparent Jennifer had thought of everything. A quick spray, as it slid down my throat. Then another spray as I felt another bunch of liquid slide down my throat.

Each hand was raised above my head a strap fixed to hold them there. I started to ask what she was doing but I was told to not talk until the spray could do its job. A garment was fastened around me, fitting tightly around my waist. Since I always have had a little pouch there I figured it was indeed a corset or waist cincher. The garment seemed sticky against my skin, maybe it is just something to keep it in place. I know Jennifer has worn a cincher at times, so no big deal.

She then held something to my ear, a sharp jab and I now had a pierced ear. The other ear received the same, to balance the look. I wanted to protest what she had done, but just ignored it figuring it was something Jennifer wanted done to me. To late to do anything about it anyway.

My blindfold was finally removed, my eyes squinting to get used to the light. It took me a few moments to focus, my waist the first thing I noticed in my image in the mirror. The garment she had put on me blended with my skin, a perfect match color wise. It even looked like real skin.

After my arms were released my eyes focused further down, my male organ not visible, just a female sex just like what Jennifer has between her legs. I presume my original equipment is still there since there is no blood visible, although I still had no feeling down there.

Before I could process further thoughts about my new female sex a dress was slid over my head, a huge pile of petticoats attached to a small bodice that ended at my nipples. It extended out from my body at least two feet. The petticoats almost horizontal, not falling down like a normal skirt. It was extremely drafty, the bottom of the petticoats reaching only mid thigh.

Of course, Jennifer arrived at that moment squealing in delight at my appearance. I was hugged, kissed and made to turn around so she could get another look at me.

The tech got our attention, it was time for the last part of our costume. Jennifer did go first, I did smile as she was laid back on a table and diapered. The pins were fastened snugly, the tech noting that the diaper had a soaker pad added so that we could stay in the diapers longer.

I was next, not sure if I wanted the same thing done to me. Before I could figure out what to say I was laid back and encased in the same thing as Jennifer. I did try to say something after the fact, but no sounds came out of my mouth. I tried again but nothing. Jennifer noticed immediately and asked the tech about my voice. She replied that it was a liquid to raise the pitch of my voice, supplied by Melody wanting to help make our disguises perfect for the costume party.

A concerned Jennifer asked if Melody had supplied anything else, the tech looking at the card, then mentioned the waist cincher and the adhesive used for the nails and the female sex. I could hear Jennifer groan from across the room, I meanwhile just leaned back on the table I was diapered on and passed out.

When I became lucid again I noticed Jennifer reading a note that had been handed to her. There was a tear or two sliding down her cheek, I had bad feelings about the contents of the note, but didn’t really want to know what it said.

Jennifer did read the note again, hoping she had misread parts of it.

Jennifer

I am sure you will do well at the costume party tonight. I have supplied a few things to insure your success. No need to thank me that is what a sister does for her brother.

The glue supplied for the nails and female sex lasts for quite a long time, no solvent known to be available at the present time. I always thought of you two as a lesbian couple, now you can investigate to see if I am right.

The setting lotion used on her hair will turn her blonde over the next few hours, and of course insure long lasting curls. Curls and hair color to match her new name.

The waist cincher cost me quite a chunk of money, state of the art bonding to the skin and shed only when the natural skin cells are shed. By that time her waist will be naturally thin and petite. A gift for my new sissy relative.

Her leg calves have been treated to tighten the tendons, requiring her to wear high heels of at least five inches to be able to walk. Her legs looking quite feminine now from the pictures I have seen taken at the salon.

Lipstick, rouge and eye liner are stains taking months to wear off, but the effect well worth the sacrifice. Think of all the time she will save trying to do her own makeup.

Now pertaining to her new name. I have chosen Goldilocks a perfect match for her new hair color and abundant curls. My boyfriend wanted to help out too so he wiped out the old identity of my brother totally, no record of Jay ever existed in any records. In its place is Goldilocks, female at birth and sissy by choice. He even managed to register Goldilocks with the state as a sissy, there new classification for anyone desiring the life permanently. Since Jay never existed their is no marriage between the two of you, an inconvenience but I am sure you can figure out a way to deal with it

Oh, one last thing, while you were at the salon we stopped by your apartment and removed all of Jay’s clothing, since he will have no need of them in the future. We did leave some particular prissy dresses for her and a few pair of heels in her closet. Again just trying to help.

We are headed out west, planning to disappear for awhile, peace and quiet and lots of sex.

With much love Melody

P.S. Have fun at the party.

Jennifer approached me puling me into a tender hug. I was held for quite some time, then she led me from the salon. We did make a quite a sight, two identical sissies in heels and wearing diapers. The diapers were indeed visible under the petticoats. Jennifer never talked about the note, we did attend the costume party, everyone interacting with us. Jennifer explained my lack of a voice as acute laryngitis. A few raised eyebrows at that explanation but the subject was not brought up again. We did win one of the prizes for best costume, a gift certificate for one of the children’s boutiques in town. I am sure someone thought that would be hilarious, but Jennifer just accepted it and we soon left the party.

She was quiet on the ride home, hugging me tightly as we walked up the stairs to the apartment. Once inside she went to the kitchen to retrieve something to drink, we had watched our liquid intake at the party, not really wanting to have to use our diapers. Despite our precautions I ended up using mine right before we left the party. I tried to back away as she pretended to check my diaper to see if I had used it, her instant smirk as she felt its wetness. I was beet red from embarrassment, a grown man wetting his diaper.

She grabbed my hand and led me to our bedroom, taking time to check my closet before she laid me down on the bed. I just stared at the ceiling, not knowing what to do or say, well if I could utter any words that is. She returned with another diaper, quickly getting my wet one off and replacing it with a disposable one. The tabs were fastened snugly and I was helped up. I did get a glance at my now empty closet, a few dresses the only thing hanging on the rack. I thought that may have been part of the note that Jennifer had read at the salon, fearing lots more revelations to accompany that one.

Back to the living room, Jennifer taking a big swig of her drink before she started talking to me. Melody did have a lot to do with your transformation to a sissy, to spare you the details you will remain my sissy, for me to take care of and love. Your name is now Goldilocks, the male Jay no longer exists. You will be a stay at home sissy, only going out with me from time to time. Dressing as a sissy all the time and acting like one too. I don’t think you will ever be able to talk again, the spray used on your throat damaging your vocal cords. Maybe you can write your thoughts on a pad so that we can still communicate. I held up my hands, the long nails most likely to make that impossible. More hugs, as she cuddled me close to her body.

For now lets leave the explanation there, maybe later we can talk about it more. Another hug and kiss, then we can look at the new clothes in your closet. I will always love you and take care of you as you live out your sentence as a sissy. She pulled me into such a hug, squeezing the daylights out of me, the hug seeming to last an eternity. It felt so good, maybe Goldilocks can cope with this somehow, her sentence to become a sissy forever more.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Joni: Halloween Sissy

Joni: Halloween Sissy

A week to go before the Halloween dance that the company sponsored. Since we made costumes for the holiday it was a big thing for us. The costumes had already been shipped months ago so that they would be in the stores in time for the holiday. We made better costumes, not the cheap stuff that the mass marketers sold. Our customers were costume shops and some fancier party goods stores. To supplement that we had our own internet website where we marketed our wares, especially our high end costumes. The retail price of our costumes was usually in the hundred to two hundred dollar price range. Preliminary reports back from our customers this year hinted at sales far in excess of previous years. Our internet sales pretty much verified that conclusion, especially last minute sales to those who couldn’t find what they were looking for locally. The last day of shipping we had sent out five hundred and fifty-two next day air parcels.

After the costumes were shipped out, that pretty much ended the huge push we had every year. Usually from July to the end of September we were humping it to get as much produced and shipped as possible. Once that stopped most every body concentrated on what costumes we were going to produce for next year. September was spent developing new costumes for the upcoming season, our Halloween dance used to try them out and judge their popularity. The only exception in the company was our shipping department fulfilling last minute internet sales.

Traditionally the employees would wear the costumes to the dance, family and friends letting us know their opinion of the next year’s selections. In my case, my family was my wife and her parents. My parents lived all the way across the country and usually did not make the trek, even though they were invited every year. There was about two hundred employees that worked for the company, the seamstresses contracted to do the sewing not really an employee of the company. The guys in the warehouse were excused for having to wear a costume, their size usually exempting them from anything that might possibly fit. A fact that they were mostly pleased about. Since we were not shipping much, except internet sales, this is the time they arranged vacations and took time to attend to other matters.

That left about a hundred and fifty employees that would model our next year’s ideas for costumes. From that group we would select about a hundred costumes to be put into production, that figure further diminished when customer reactions to our catalog and website were taken into consideration.

This year we had put eighty seven costumes into production, about average for any previous year. I was in charge of taking the ideas that our employees came up with and figuring how much it would cost us to make that costume. After the selection process I bought the materials to produce the costume and worked with the contract seamstresses in how it would be put together. Sometimes I would have to adjust the cost or make minor changes to the costume to keep it priced so we would be able to sell it. Then after it was in production I had to monitor the sales of the costumes and make adjustments in how many of a costume was produced.

Not a difficult job, but usually entailing a lot of paper pushing before the costume was ready to be shipped. Now with computers that meant a lot of time behind a keyboard. In the past, I had a binder for each costume with cost, material sources, projected sales, actual orders and cost of production including sewing time. For however many costumes were selected to be produced a binder for each. Now each costume had a separate spreadsheet supplying all that same information.

Over the years there were mistakes made, a small adjacent warehouse holding those mistakes. For instance, we had a lot of super hero costumes left, several mistakes made that year. We had projected it would be super hot, but by the time the holiday arrived the craze had already peeked and we ended up making a series of costumes patterned after a TV show at the last minute which managed to save our butt. There were other mistakes made but none to the degree of the super hero disaster.

My assistant and partner in crime always tried to devise a costume utilizing some of these mistakes, she figured if she was successful it might mean a bonus for her. She was trying to scrape enough together to pay off the mortgage on her house, which would help her immensely. She was divorced raising two kids by herself. I often helped her out when I could, giving her extra jobs not under her regular duties which earned her some much appreciated overtime.

The employees were very inventive this year, by the middle of September we had over two hundred ideas submitted. After evaluating some of those ideas we narrowed it down to a number that would allow each of our employees to have a new costume idea to wear to the dance. Marissa, my assistant, wanted me to wear her idea, my smaller frame a perfect match for her idea. She got with my wife, saying she needed a little help getting me ready to wear her costume. She was so excited in her preparations that I just sighed and let them plan my appearance at the dance. Over the years I have been almost every character that you could think of, last year I appeared as a ballerina, again my small size seemed to get me in a female costume more often than not.

I was only five foot six and weighted about a hundred and thirty pounds, actually only one hundred twenty pounds but I will never admit to that figure. It embarrassed me, most of the time I weighed less than my wife, an unusual situation for a male. My wife Angie warned me that I would again be attired as a female, but Marissa was so excited, for me to just go with it. I would need to spend a day at her salon, nothing permanent to be done to me. Then I would be dressed there and she will come by to pick me up and take me to the dance. I raised my eyebrows at that statement, but Angie’s huge smirk kept me from making any comments. She informed me that the appointment had already been made, and I would be pampered and made ready for my debut.

Over the next few days I was stared at by the CEO of the company several times, a giggle escaping from her mouth soon thereafter. Debbie, the CEO, is a true gem, easy to work with and quite intelligent. Her contacts within the industry and our customer base kept us above water several times when the economy was depressed. She managed to make the connections to get us the needed customers or move a slow selling product out before we got stuck with it. The super hero mess was the only major thing she was not able to fix.

I presume Marissa has shared my costume selection with her and several other female upper level management. No outright laughter but lots of smiles and smirks. Our last sales figures from our customers pointed to a banner year for them, thus assuring us a good start on next year for us. If our customers did good, they were usually more willing to take chances on their purchases for next year making our outlook for next year quite favorable.

Angie warned me that some parts of my costume might be intimidating, but Marissa had made sure everything used in my costume came from the left overs from previous years. Each year we were able to move some of the leftovers, but not enough for us to gain financially from it. At the present rate of sales of these leftovers we still have ten years worth stored in that warehouse.

The morning of my salon appointment and the subsequent dance that evening arrived, Angie sending me off making me promise to do everything I was told, no protests, and no complaints. She promised she would make it up to me that evening and for the rest of the weekend. The kiss she gave me as I left the house definitely left me gasping and anxious for the dance to be over with and the weekends activities to commence.

I was surprised to be picked up by the salon’s limo, a gorgeous female driver getting my door and making me comfortable in the back seat. I was given a glass of wine for the trip and thirty minutes later we arrived at the salon. I was impressed, my mouth hanging open at the sight before me. I had never been with Angie when she used the salon, thinking it was some small beauty shop that over charged for their services. The place was huge, and oh so feminine. I imagined me just entering would move my gender toward the female perspective.

I was led by the chauffeur to a room near the back of the salon, asked to remove my clothes and my technician would be with me shortly. An intimidating lady entered scanned my body and rubbed her hands together savoring the challenge before her. She introduced herself and quickly removed my boxers that I had left on to try and maintain a little modesty. I was covered in a cream, the end result would be no body hair after it was washed off. In most cases it was permanent, not requiring another treatment to keep my body hair free. I was never very masculine, so having no body hair was not a problem for me.

She then sat me in a chair and washed and conditioned my hair. Then started applying other chemicals to it, each one washed out after some time. The she started winding my hair in curlers, after she sprayed a liquid on each lock of hair. The hair was thoroughly soaked, I could feel the extra moisture running down my neck. She wiped up the extra moisture, then wrapped a plastic bag around my head followed by a large towel around that.

I was next moved to a table where I was laid on my back, my head slightly elevated on a pillow. I could feel the curlers pressing into my head, I guess a necessary sacrifice to look pretty. Two breast forms were glued onto my chest, the weight and size quite noticeable. Then she moved to my groin, moving my male appendage back between my legs and then proceeded to glue him there so as to create a smooth female front. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable, already this is more then was done in past years to convert me to the female gender. It seemed a little much for a Halloween dance but I remembered my promise to Angie. I did immediately think of the upcoming weekend, wondering if junior could be unglued for the promised activities.

In the next couple of hours my eyebrows were shaped into two delicate high arches, and my fingernails received long extensions, then a bright red polish to make them stand out and be noticed. As I glimpsed at the mirror behind my technician there was no male image there anymore. Even with curlers and no makeup the image was female. I sighed a couple of times, remembering my damn promise to keep any comments to myself and accept what they were doing to me with a smile. Though the best I could do now was a half hearted smile.

She did get around to makeup for me, as she was applying it the makeup seemed almost juvenile. All of the normal cosmetic items were used but not producing an adult look. The rouge was heavier than I have seen on any female and the eyelashes were done in a heavy mascaraed effect with no eye shadow or eyeliner. The lipstick was a dark pink, then she added a clear gloss over it that had a glitter effect on the lipstick below it. I can imagine if my hairstyle is also childish I will look like a large sissy.

Oh gawd, that is what my costume is going to be. To prove my guess was correct a feminine dress is brought in and hung on a hanger at the side of the room. The dress had miles of lace on it, with two large ribbons that tied in the back in a huge bow. A hanger full of petticoats is hung in front of it, I am sure the perfect compliment to the dress. The dress was so short, I doubted it would cover my panties when on. It was not from the superhero disaster, but another smaller fiasco involving females dressing as little girls.

She sprayed my makeup, telling me that the spray would keep the makeup set for thirty-six hours, no need to worry about keeping it fresh and pretty. Then she slipped on the petticoats, followed by the dress. I had already donned a bra and panties, so now I was dressed in my costume. I was right about the dress, the hem barely covering my panties. A pair of heels with a buckle strap around the ankle completed the outfit.

I was glued to my image in the mirror, nothing of the old me was left. Angie appeared at the door to the room, a huge smile spreading over her face. She had a few items in her hands, dropping them on the table as she attacked my persona. I was hugged hard, then pushed back so she could see me from all angles. This went on for several minutes then she looked at her watch and shook her head. I was turned away from her as she grabbed each of my hands and slipped them into something that looked like a glove. Since she was behind me and had pulled my hand behind my back I was not aware of what she was doing until she released the hand. By then she had already grabbed my other hand and was slipping it into the other glove.

The gloves were covered in lace, looking nothing like a regular glove. They had a band that fastened tightly around the wrist, making the gloves impossible to slide off. After a few moments I remembered the gloves, they were part of an adult baby costume that we had some calls for from our customers, but they never took their order, leaving us stuck with several special orders. I don’t remember the lace though, must be something Marissa had added to the items.

Still behind me she snapped a collar around my neck, doing something with the catch at the back. The collar was fairly high, pretty much stopping me from looking down. Again, I suddenly remember the collar, part of a dominatrix costume that failed several years ago. A belt was added around my waist and my gloves were attached to the belt at my sides. I was backed up to the table and laid back on it. Something was attached to my collar and apparently fastened to the table preventing me from lifting my head. Angie lifted my dress while grabbing a hold of my panties and sliding them down my legs.

I started to protest, but a pacifier was inserted into my mouth and the strap attached behind my head. She leaned closer, whispering that I had no choice, but if I continue to protest she has some more accessories that she can utilize, most of them a lot more embarrassing that what I was going to end up with. I got a kiss on the tip of my nose and she continued in my preparation. I just sighed, fearing the worse and most likely receiving it.

A few moments later as she had me lift my rear in the air, I suddenly figured out what she was doing. She was going to diaper me, here I was a grown male and an executive in the company and was being diapered by my wife. She used a wipe to cleanse me, then baby powder. The diaper was placed under me, then pulled up tight and secured with some pink diaper pins. The smell of the baby powder infiltrating the whole room. Even if they could not see my diaper I am sure they could smell the baby powder scent on me. When she finished I couldn’t put my legs together for all the material bunched up between my legs. She had added some soft shoes or socks to my feet, probably the baby booties from the same adult baby costume. I let out a groan, at my situation, then a swat on my butt quickly stopping any more vocalizations.

Another whisper from Angie telling me she used another diaper folded as a soaker to handle me all through the evening. I vowed not to drink anything, only to have my pacifier removed and a warm bottle of milk in a baby bottle replace it. I tried to resist, but Angie rubbing up and down my throat caused me to suck on the bottle. It tasted good so I continued not realizing till later that I was setting myself up for disaster. Maybe she will let me out of the diaper before it gets to that point.

She added some contact lenses to my eyes, having to try several times to slip them in. Now my vision was blurred, just seeing objects not any idea of what they were or who. I was released from the table and taken out to her car, hearing lots of compliments on my costume and looks. I was driven to the company offices, she parked and soon there were several employees there to help her. Because of my fuzzy vision I couldn’t see who but I thought I recognized several voices. I heard some laughter and giggles as I was lifted from the passenger seat and placed in an object and a strap tightened around my waist holding me secure in it. Then I was wheeled into the warehouse where we were having the dance. I soon found out I was in a baby carriage, sized to accommodate me. The comments from a lot of the attendees cluing me in to my predicament.

With the gloves on, my vision blurred and strapped into the carriage I was pretty much screwed. I was instantly red, although I couldn’t see if I was actually that color. It seemed we were right in the middle of the crowd. The voices of my admirers many and loud. Then I was helped out of the carriage and placed in something else, a blanket or something padded underneath me. Another strap employed and I was unable to move from where I was put. I was quietly calling for Angie, hoping I could get her attention to stop this crazy scenario from going any further. I got another baby bottle shoved in my mouth and moved back and forth till I started sucking on it. At the same time I felt my bladder release, the suddenness of it shocked me, I immediately started crying wanting all of this to end and now. Why I started crying I have no idea, such a un-masculine response to how I am being treated. I should be shouting or angry, but instead I was frustrated, not so quietly shedding loads of tears.

Angie did reach down and rub the top of my head, but withheld any further contact with me. She told me to get all of my angst out however I am staying dressed as I am until the dance is over. Now finish you bottle and take a nap.

Marissa did come by, placing a doll in my arms, giggling and saying how cute I was. Then I was complimented on being such a sissy, maybe a better place for me than in the adult world. I did not appreciate her comments one bit. I did end up finishing the bottle, the urge to suck on it overwhelming at times. Then my eyes became heavy and I was soon sound asleep. Angie kissing me on the tip of my nose woke me, I was confused and disorientated until I remembered my situation. Then the blush of red overtook me as I saw all of the people gathered around my crib. Somehow the contacts that made my life blurry had been removed and all was now in focus. I had the doll in my arms and was holding it tight to my body. I realized I had a pacifier in my mouth again and was furiously sucking on it, trying to ease my stress somehow.

I was kissed, hugged and cuddled by a lot of the female employees as the dance wound down. Now maybe I will get out of these clothes and diaper and be allowed to be normal again. A few of the males appeared at the side of the crib and I was lifted and placed back in the baby carriage. Marissa pushed me outside and I was placed in Angie’s car. I just sighed heavily my apparent ordeal is not to be over for some time. Angie was there to fasten my seat belt and she drove us home. Now I was getting worried, still no mention of me getting out of the dress and diapers, my soaking wet diapers.

I was dragged into the house, and taken to our bedroom. I was laid on the bed, as she gathered the things necessary to change my diaper. I tried to protest but Angie reminded me that sissy’s who do not cooperate get put to bed wet and are not given any nourishment. I was about to protest, this has went on too long, but the nipple of a baby bottle shoved in my mouth stopped all protests. So being the submissive sissy I have apparently become I just sucked on the bottle. It wasn’t ten minutes later when my eyes closed and I was out for the count. I think Angie had managed to get my diaper changed but that was just a thought, not sure at all if it was actually accomplished. I am sure there was something in the milk bottle to help me sleep, since it wasn’t but a few minutes after I started on the bottle that I slipped off into dreamland.

I awoke later to being kissed, a wet sloppy kiss on my nose then she moved to my eyes and ears. I remembered back to my childhood, seeing my younger sisters treated this way often. My clothes were changed, still a dress to wear this one with lots of slips underneath keeping the skirt flared out. I did get my diaper changed again, it felt so good to get that cold wet diaper off and be cleaned and re-powdered. I was taken to the kitchen and helped up into a new chair that I had not seen before. It looked a lot like a high chair but there was no tray in front. The tray appeared and as she pushed it into the track for it I heard a click and found my arms and hands trapped underneath the tray. She sat facing me in a regular chair we used at the table and stuck a pacifier in my mouth. I started to spit it out, but her finger waving in front of me stopped that action.

She started her explanation, asking me to listen to all of it before I make any comments. “When this all started it seemed comical, to see you as a form of a sissy, bedecked in your cute dresses and panties. The more it was talked about almost everyone expressed the desire to see you this way. I don’t think they were trying to be mean, just that they could see you being a sissy and enjoying it. Something in your actions and behavior seemed to fit the costume. Of course it morphed, things added to the costume and more and more employees wanting to get in the act or help out. The guys in the warehouse built your baby carriage, your playpen and of course the high chair you are now confined too. They were so proud of their work, you will not believe the amount of pictures taken of you in those bits of their handiwork.”

“Well some of the pictures made it to the internet on our companies internet page. You are undoubtedly an overnight sensation since you have more requests for friends than the company has amassed in five years on the net. While you were occupied in your crib the executives have promoted you to spokesperson for the whole company. So your sissy costume is now your official dress for the time at your job. They want to do several more photo shoots, intending to sell autograph copies of your new look. The requests for pictures already in the thousands. From our customers we have received orders for your costume far in excess of our total production for the last three years. I was appointed to give you the good news since they are trying to find additional space to handle the orders now on hand. There will be only one costume made for next year, although numerous styles of dresses will be handled so each costume will be somewhat distinctive.”

“At work your job is to be a sissy, a cute feminine sissy always dressed to the hilt, kept in your play pen except when you are getting your diaper changed. Frequent naps so you are not grouchy, and fed numerous bottles of milk so that you will be needed to be changed often. Marissa will assume your duties since such a young sissy will not be able to handle the job.”

“There is a long list of female volunteers that want to change your diaper or feed you a bottle, even more that want to help you during lunch eating your jars of baby food. Twice a week technicians from the salon will visit, so that your hair is always perfectly curled. They will also see that your fingernails and toenails will be kept polished, and your lipstick kept refreshed.”

“Of course, the guys will help me get you home in the evening so that I can see to your care and feeding. You will have a crib for you to sleep in at night, so that you will not fall out of bed and hurt yourself. They will also furnish a play pen for you at home along with a high chair so you can be fed properly.”

“Now for our relationship at the present. I love my sissy, I have been drooling all during the dance waiting patiently for a chance to get you alone and show you how much I like you this way, no love you this way. So unless you are dead set against it, I will pack up your male things in the morning and you and I will go shopping for your new wardrobe. Marissa has offered to help, she also loves her new sissy boss and wants to show her appreciation for all you have done for her and now the company. So give me the word, and I will have you naked and seen to in a few seconds. No let me rephrase that. This is your life now with me, little girl dresses, diapers and baby food. John is no longer, Joni now your life, a life with me as my sissy. Consider this my Halloween gift for you.”

I took in a huge breath, muttered a whimper and then was attacked. I have no idea why I had agreed to be her sissy, the words just came out of nowhere. I don’t remember everything that happened after that, but I loved it all. Sissy clothes, diapers and baby bottles, all items I seem to want to embrace. A sissy for Halloween, now a babyish sissy for life. Ma Ma.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Jenny; A Sissy For Kayla

Jenny; A Sissy For Kayla

My girlfriend was quite the business woman, owning several fashion related businesses. Her latest acquisition had cut into some of our together time and I was whining about it. She handled the complaint as she normally does, a sensual kiss that turned my mind to mush as she rubbed my male appendage with her hand. Two weeks later I was back to whining, she had spent the last five days at her new business, leaving me alone at my apartment.

We both were spoiled brats, our parents providing each of us with everything we requested as we grew up. Then when we graduated college a huge trust fund to handle most anything we might want in the years to come. The trust fund provided so much every month, to be deposited into our checking accounts. Jobs were not needed, we had no needs that we could not obtain ourselves. That is how she had acquired her businesses, each one researched and after careful consideration bought for a song. The businesses all had been in trouble financially, so the expense in buying them was minimal.

Where I was content to waste my time on the internet and play an inordinate amount of time on video games, Kayla wanted something to occupy her time, something to do with her free time. Each business she tackled was turned around by her, profitability returned to the business within the first few months.

I was the one suffering, of acute Kaylaitis. I pleaded with her, I begged her for some of her time, making a royal ass of myself in the process. Finally she had enough of my persistent whining telling, me she would pick me up at ten the next morning and I could hang with her for the rest of the day. She was truthful with me letting me know she was still going in to the business, but with a little luck she would be finished about three in the afternoon, leaving the rest of the day just for us.

That was better than nothing so I quickly agreed to her plan. When she pulled up in front of the store my mouth was open in awe. It was a sissy store, part of a national chain that I had read about, with her buying the local franchise of it. I followed her in, and she sat about getting the lights on and the store open. I found a love seat over in the corner and made myself comfortable. Kayla was setting up a display, having a photographer coming in right after lunch to take some pictures for an ad she was planning to run in the local newspaper.

The whole idea of her owning a sissy store left me a little unsure. This is a side of her I have never seen before. So I did what any red blooded male might do and retreated to a safe spot and observed. I was quiet the whole morning only speaking to her when she asked me to go down a couple of stores and get each of us a tea. The sweet shop had candies and assorted tempting treats along with coffee, tea and other beverages. I ordered two cups of tea and waited for them to be prepared. Returning to Kayla’s store I did as she requested, giving her a cup of tea when she had finished with a customer, quickly retreating to my safe spot and sipping my tea.

Several customers showed up during the morning, a couple of ladies by themselves shopping for their sissies. I was listening to them talk with Kayla, the conversations most interesting. Then a mother dragging her teenage son with her right before lunch. She picked out a couple of dresses for him, as he tried to shrink into the chair he had positioned himself on. He was dragged to the dressing room and soon emerged wearing one of the dresses. To say he looked different would be quite an understatement. The dress was so frilly and juvenile, he now looked like he was a member of a kindergarten class, although a little bigger size wise than most of his classmates. With his hair in a ponytail the look was almost complete.

He was obviously embarrassed, trying to hide behind his Mom. Kayla helped adjust the dress a little better on him then suggested some panties and shoes that would complete the look Mom was after. Mom agreed, the boy soon wearing the panties and shoes as Mom paid for his clothes. I noticed that the mother had left his clothes in the waste bin at the register, his dress apparently the new mode of fashion for him.

Kayla’s sales help came in right before lunch, they conferred for a few minutes then Kayla came to get me so we could grab some lunch. We walked a few blocks to a fast food place, ordered then found a spot on their patio to sit and eat our lunch. I did notice Kayla looking at me a little more closely, a cute little smirk appearing on her face. I tried to ignore her attention, not wanting to inquire about the smirk and what it might mean for me.

We made it back to the store, Laney her sales help telling her that the model for the photographer had called in sick, not able to make it, since she was throwing up every few minutes. Kayla called the photographer and postponed the photo shoot until five, when the store would be closed. She took her phone and started calling a few people, presumably ones that she had talked to about modeling her outfits. An hour later she sat down in the stockroom disgusted and depressed. I could see she was in deep thought than that smirk again as she was looking my way. I got up to take a walk, and made it as far as the front door of the store. Kayla grabbed a hand and dragged me back to the stockroom and sat me on some boxes of clothing that had come in that afternoon. She was quiet for a minute, figuring out what to say.

I knew I was in deep do do, but was at a loss as what to do or say to avoid what I was sure was coming. It didn’t take much intellect to figure out what she had in mind. The fact that I was not much taller than her and quite thin made her idea quite plausible. I thought back to the teenage boy that had been dressed as a sissy and shuddered. That boy was just a little thinner than me, and probably the same height. I had allowed my hair to grow down to my shoulders, and wore it in a low ponytail. A fact that now might fit in perfectly with her proposed plans.

She wasted no time in coercing me to help her, along with her pleas her stroking my male equipment and her kisses to my face and ears were making thinking difficult. I didn’t tell her no, but I also didn’t agree to do as she wanted. When she relented some I looked down at my body and discovered I was naked. She had managed to get me undressed stashing my clothes somewhere. Laney had closed down the store and register, wanting to know if Kayla needed her to do anything else. As she surveyed my naked body she giggled, then hugged Kayla and left. As she closed the door and locked it the photographer had showed up and she let her in, yelling to Kayla that the photographer was here. Kayla left me for a few minutes to show the photographer where to set up, then returned with a handful of clothes apparently for me.

My body was carefully appraised, then she went to a cabinet and removed an electric shaver. My little bit of body hair was quickly removed, then she grabbed a brush and brushed out my hair after removing the scrunchie that held it in the ponytail.

Still naked I had given up resisting her efforts, figuring the sooner I cooperate the sooner that I can return to my male persona. I was not looking forward to any of this, far from it. What male would want to wear a frilly dress and pose for pictures in front of a lady photographer.

The panties were first, a frilly pair with rows of lace on the rear portion of the panties. Kayla called them rumba panties. They were silky, and fit way too good. Snug in the crouch, and caressing my body with their silky embrace. Kayla came up to me, reached into the front of the panties and grabbed junior and pushed him back between my legs. When she released the panties they kept him secured there, a flat front now on that portion of my body. It was a little uncomfortable, but the dainty slip and dress that was slid over my head caused me to focus on how I looked now. I looked in a mirror a few feet away, the juvenile look of a pretty sissy the only image I could see. Kayla added some lipstick to my lips, then dragged me out to the display that she had set up earlier.

I took a look at it, not really paying any attention earlier when she was setting it up. A huge teddy bear was on one side of the display, a life size doll dressed like me on the other side of the display. Each one was held by me as hundreds of pictures were taken, the photographer wanting me to kiss the bear and doll, and hug it tight to my body.

I was blushing at doing something so girly, I am sure making the pictures that much more humiliating. I was later to learn that is a key part of being a sissy, actions and clothes all designed to humiliate the sissy, and make them dependent on an adult to take care of them.

The evening wore on, with me having to change into at least fifteen different dresses, each one frillier and daintier than the last. The photographer must have taken at least a thousand pictures of me each one showing only a sissy. My hair was brushed different ways, each one emphasizing the sissy image. I got a set of pigtails for some pictures and even one with my hair in curlers while I was wearing a nightie. That luckily was one of the last pictures she took of me. Sometime during the evening I was referred to as Jenny, my apparent sissy name now.

While Kayla and the photographer discussed the photo shoot I sat back on the pile of boxes, waiting for her to finish. I thought of what all of this meant to me, the fact that I could be easily recognized from the pictures taken of me today worried me quire a bit. If Kayla ran this ad in the local newspaper I would be a laughing stock in a very short time.

If I refused to let her use these pictures I doubt there will be much future for us as a couple. Of course refusing to let her use the pictures is such a laugh, here I sit in a child’s nightie with my hair in curlers and wearing makeup. Not exactly the epitome of a strong no nonsense male. Luckily for me there was not a job involved on my part, I can see how ridiculous that might turn out.

Kayla returned grabbing my hand and after picking up her purse led me out of the store to her car. All the time I was trying to escape her, looking right and left to see if someone was looking at me. I asked about my clothes, my wallet and ID still in my pants pocket. She informed me she had my wallet, but the remainder of my clothes are in the trash. No further need for any ID, a sissy named Jenny not requiring any. She did get me in her car, the passenger seat where I was placed. I slumped down in the seat not wanting to be seen by anyone. She fastened my seat belt like you would a child, forcing me to sit up some. I received a kiss on my cheek and she came around to the driver’s side and got in. I breathed a sigh of relief, figuring we were on the way to our home.

Wrong, she pulled into a drive thru, ordering us some food, then after paying and receiving the food she drove over to a near by park. She parked in a spot, overlooking the lake and proceeded to feed me my dinner. I tried more than once to feed myself but was scolded vigorously. Finally I placed my hands on my lap and let her have her way. She used a wet napkin to clean my face, then reapplied some lipstick to my face.

Several people passed by my side of the car, looking in as they passed. No outright laughing but I heard a giggle or two and several turned around so they could get a better look at me as they went down to the lake. Kayla asked if I wanted to go down to the lake, there were several children there and she was sure I would be welcome to play with them.

I looked at her with sheer panic etched on my face. Kayla meanwhile giggling at my facial expressions. She did resume the drive home, once in sight I heaved a huge sigh of relief. I was taken into the house, then straight to her second bedroom. As she opened the door my mouth opened in awe, a super frilly girl’s room was all I saw. I tried to grab the door jamb as she led me into the room. She reached for my thingy and soon I was led over to the bed. She gave me a sizzling kiss, then laid me down on the sheets. She reached for something on each side of me, fastening them together over my waist. I looked down to see what she had done, figuring I could easily unfasten them after she had left. She removed my rumba panties, washed my thingy real good and then slid a diaper under my butt. This was done while she played with my thingy, as I raised my butt up off the bed so she would caress it some more. It was pinned tightly to my body, then a second pair of panties was slid over it. As she slid them up my leg they crinkled some, with me finally realizing they were plastic panties to keep my diaper from leaking. Of course I was beet red, not able to utter any protest to Kayla. Way too much for me to get a grip on, much less figure out what to do about it. Then she removed a pair of mittens and slid them on to my hands. They were finger less, just one pocket for my hand. They had a strap that fastened around my wrist keeping them from being removed. I tried to wiggle my fingers, but the mittens would not allow that movement. She slid a blindfold over my eyes, then raised my nightie up to my neck. She squeezed my nipples some, getting them erect and standing out, then fastened something on to the erect nipple. I felt the pressure from whatever she had attached to them but it was not painful. She pulled the nightie back down after tightening the strap holding me to the bed. Tucking the sheets tightly under my body. I was now trapped in the sheets unable to move or do anything to free myself. I was blind now, listening carefully to see if Kayla was going to do anything else to me. I was kissed on the tip of my nose. Then she left the room, apparently turning out the light as she left. The room seemed to get darker, as my eyes tried to adjust to the darkness of the blindfold.

Why I had let her truss me up like this, never saying a word to her in protest. I suddenly felt the need to pee, moaning out loud trying to get her attention. I finally realized that was the reason for the diaper, she had no intention of releasing me to go to the bathroom. I held out as long as I could, but the urge was greater than my willpower. I flooded the diaper, then thought of how I would have to wait until the morning before I could be changed. I did succumb to sleep, not able to free myself from my sheet prison, muck less remove the strap holding me down to the bed.

The next morning Kayla woke me with another kiss to my nose, then felt the diaper to see if I had been forced to use it. She smiled, then started releasing me from the bed. After waking up from my sleep, I started to ask her about why she was doing this, but her finger on my lips implied that I was not to talk. She changed my diaper, but slid the rumba panties over the diaper to cover it up. I smelled like a baby now, the amount of powder she used on me enough for several babies. The nightie was removed then she removed the clamps that she had placed on my nipples last night. Once the blood reentered the nipple I was suddenly in severe pain. They stayed erect though as the redness slowly faded away. I move a mittened hand up to touch them, but soon found out they were now super sensitive. Another one of Kayla’s sissy dresses was slid on to my body, then a pair of girls shoes were slipped on to my feet. A collar was attached around my neck, then I was led through the house and out to her car. Being led by a leash attached to my collar, left me confused and bewildered.

I thought about speaking up again, but decided not to, all of this really confusing me about our relationship now. A short while later she pulled up in front of a beauty salon, a few doors down from her sissy shop. She spoke to the receptionist and then someone from the back came to lead me away, the leash used to get me headed in the right direction. I was sat in a chair and leaned back my hair apparently the focus of today’s visit. She washed and conditioned it after removing the curlers from yesterday’s photo shoot. I had forgotten all about them, once I got used to the feel of them as I tried to get to sleep last night. In the mirror I saw my head covered in curls. Even washing my hair didn’t relax the curl. She cut my hair into a feminine style, with bangs I might add. Then she started weaving in longer strands of hair from my bangs all the way to my neck. The longer hair erased any masculinity I might have had left, The hair now a mixture of curls and straight hair. She separated it into little bunches, then wrapped a piece of paper around the bunch then around a smaller curler. This took quite a bit of time to accomplish. Then a smelly liquid was soaked into each curler with me figuring out I was being given a permanent. Another huge sigh, my time as Kayla’s boyfriend now over, a sissy for the foreseeable future. I guess I could put up with it, at least I will still be with her. I kind of zoned out for a while while my permanent was processed.

After another rinse, she combed through my hundreds of curls and then started wrapping them around colored curlers, many different colors depending on where on my head they were used. It had been at least two hours since she started and I was needing to use the bathroom. I started to ask the lady if I could use the bathroom, she looked over to Kayla, who shook her head no. Kayla came over and pushed on my lower stomach and I flooded the diaper. She smiled again and returned to her chair. I never realized she was just a few chairs down from me, my attention only focused on what the lady was doing to my hair.

As my hair was drying under the hair dryer, my nails were worked on, after she removed my mittens, It felt so good to have them off, my fingers flexing in their new found freedom. I received a manicure first, then extensions were added, my nails now extending a half inch past my fingertips. Again I thought of asking why, but silence reined and after the hair dryer shut off I had ten highly polished nails in a pinkish color, my formerly male looking hands now like part of an advertisement for a sissy store.

Then a sudden realization forged to the front of my small brain. Kayla is going to use me as advertisement for her sissy store.

Then back to the new curly hair as the curlers were removed from my hair. Oh gawd, what am I going to do now. I looked like what I imagined a sissy looked like, an exceptional girlish sissy. Not a hint of anything masculine left on my body. My nails, my sissy curls leaving no doubt about my apparent gender.

Kayla was also finished coming over to reclaim her sissy. The leash was reattached and I was led from the salon. A short walk and right into her sissy store. I was taken to the back, my diaper changed them out front to the same display where the photos were taken yesterday. I was positioned in the middle of the display and my leash attached to a beam over the display. She kissed my nose again and then went to take care of other business. I stood up and tried to reach the end of the leash, but my new fingernails prevented me doing anything. I tried where the leash was attached to my collar, the same result. I even tried to undo the collar. but could not find any seam or catch.

There were some customers in the store so soon my appearance was being appraised. They had a frock picked out, asking Kayla if they could see it on the live model. Of course, it was not a problem, my current dress was removed and the new one slipped over my head, right in the middle of the store. I tried to hang on to the dress I was wearing but soon found my hands slapped away, as she made the change. The changing of the dress happened several more times that afternoon, Kayla suggesting it even if the customer did not. Of course having to use the bathroom popped up again, but I knew better that to ask Kayla to free me. A short while later I flooded my diaper again, not even realizing I was doing it. So much for being potty trained, I would imagine I will be totally unable to control myself soon if this keeps up.

It was after five when I was unleashed from my display, and taken to the back. Diaper removed and I was totally washed and cleaned. She had something in her hand when she approached me again, her rubbing my male organ unexpected and bewildering. It was short lived however as she held an ice pack against my thingy, junior shrinking to a mere nubbin. I felt her doing something down there but since everything was still so cold I tried to ignore what was happening. When I did look down there a few minutes later I was shocked, my thingy locked into a male chastity device, the length of it only an inch with my balls locked into a ring snugly behind it.

Again no words spoken from me, just another long sigh, wondering if there was anymore surprises in store for me. I was shedding moisture from my eyes, although I will steadfastly deny that I was crying. Taken to her home, and straight to my new bedroom. The new routine continued on for the next few weeks, staying with Kayla at night and at the sissy store during the day. I now wasn’t even aware when I wet my diaper, the weight of the diaper the only clue to me flooding it yet again. I wore a never ending array of sissy dresses both to model them and also for the customer to see how they looked on a live model. The chastity device stayed on, any attempt to swell up quickly aborted as the points inside of the device dug into my soft flesh.

Then a change in the daily routine, as Kayla took me back to the salon for who knows what. In a private room at the back Kayla sat opposite me and explained what she wanted. She did ask me to listen to her first before I made any comments. First she wanted me to marry her, but the union will not be between husband and wife but between a sissy and her parent. She will see to my care, although the chastity device is permanent. A sissy has no need for any kind of sexual release.

I was to move in with her, sleep with her and she will take care of all of my needs. I will be loved, caressed, and fondled as appropriate for a sissy. The diapers are an another requirement, she loves me being dependent on her for diaper changes, so that is not negotiable.

Sales at the sissy store have soared since I have been there as a model, so that too will continue. She will take extra time to be with me, taking me places dressed as her cute sissy. I will never have to worry about being kept busy, out and about dressed in one of my frilly dresses, at the sissy store or at home with her as she changes my diaper and plays with me.

I hesitated in my response to her, realizing if I accept I will be forever a sissy, diaper dependent and unable to care for myself. I then realized I was already trapped, living the life as she wanted. A sissy for Kayla named Jenny.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca