Monday, August 19, 2013

Swiss Miss Sissy, Chapter 1 of 6

Back again, with the first part of another classic Bea tale.  To those who have been fans of Bea's work for years, this story may already be familiar, but perhaps you haven't had the opportunity to read it in a while, or perhaps it'll be new to you entirely.  A few of Bea's stories are on Fictionmania and a great many others can be read on the website A Submissive Sissy.  I was a little surprised that I was unable locate this on either of those sites or elsewhere, considering that I always regarded "Swiss Miss Sissy" as one of Bea's more noteworthy efforts.  Fortunately, I preserved most of Bea's "freebies" from the old website and am happy to be able to present this one to you now.  

Since it is in several parts, my idea is to follow the formula of uploading one chapter per week.  As you can see, I composed a piece of artwork to accompany this narrative.  Time permitting, there may be other illustrations, though I make no guarantees, as I am rather swamped at the moment.  With or without artwork, however, I believe you will probably agree that this is a story worth reading.  And now, without further ado...


By Bea

  Chapter I:  The Birthday Present.  Charles becomes Cheryl 

I knew I should feel happy - I was in Switzerland - a place I’d always wanted to visit.  Instead I just felt alone, and sorry for myself.

It was a beautiful spring day.  I was sitting in a street side cafe, and all about me, people were having a wonderful time chatting and laughing:  drinking wine and enjoying dessert pastries with lots of fresh fruit.  Lovers sat staring into each other's eyes, and friends sat telling jokes and laughing at, and with, each other. (At least, that’s what I thought.  I had no comprehension of the Swiss language, so could only guess at what was going on in the conversations going on around me).

I knew my travel vacation was drawing to an end.  I’d visited England, then France, then Italy.  Had hoped to visit Germany and Austria as well, but had learned that the cost of living was far higher than I had estimated.  I’d finally decided that if I only had enough money for one country, it was going to be Switzerland.  Now I was here, I had no idea of where to go next.  I knew I should be looking for a youth hostel or a cheap zimmer instead of sitting drinking wine I could not afford, but just felt far too unhappy and sorry for myself.  All of a sudden, I realized that someone had just said something to me.  Looked up to see a very pretty young woman standing beside my table, smiling, obviously waiting for an answer.

 “I’m sorry miss,”  I said.  “I don’t speak Swiss.  Sorry.  Ich sprechen nicht  Deutsch!”

“Is my English really that terrible?” she said, smiling broadly.  “I’m truly sorry to disturb you...”

I jumped to my feet.  “Oh, I AM sorry.  I was just thinking about something.. No, you’re not disturbing me.  Can I buy you a drink?  Coffee? Wine?   And your English is - - wonderful!”  I was babbling.

She laughed - what a beautiful sound!  “Let me start again.  I was asking if you were an American?”

“How did you know?”  I asked.

“The flag sewn into your back pack is a very good clue, perhaps?”  she teased.

“Oh grief!”  I said, feeling like an idiot. “Yes.  I’m American.”

“Very good!”  she said slowly, as if she were talking to someone not too bright.  “My sisters and I like to practice our English at all times.  We wondered if you’d like to join us?  Talk and make our English better. Yes?”

She was pointing at a table where another two very attractive girls sat smiling at us.  One actually beckoned with her hand and pointed to a vacant chair beside her.

I was doing mental calculations in my head.  Could I possibly afford to buy THREE women drinks?  I knew the answer was a definite negative, but it didn’t matter, because the girl laid a warm hand on my arm.

“Please?  It would please us so very much?  We would be happy to buy you a drink or two if you would be kind enough to help us in this way?”

How could I refuse?  Blushing with pleasure, I picked up my backpack.  She carried my wine glass for me over to their table.  The other two girls stood up and smiled at me, then shook hands with me as she first introduced us all.  “I’m Martina.”  she said.  “This old lady is my older sister Brigitt, and this not-so-old lady is my other, older, sister Ingrid.”

I told them my name, Charles.

They were all beautiful.  The oldest, Brigitt had to be all of twenty-six Martina twenty two maybe.  Ingrid somewhere in between.  All of them were very smartly, and expensively, dressed with immaculate well coifed hair and just enough high quality jewelry to make a fashion statement that their self confidence was obviously backed up by money - lots of it.

“Do we pass inspection?”  Ingrid asked, a gleam in her eye - and I realized that I’d been staring at them for just a few seconds too long.

“I’m sorry for being so rude.”  I replied, blushing a deep red.  “But you ladies are very.. very .. pretty.  And you’re dressed much more formally than all the other ladies here...?”

“He blushes very prettily. Just as a girl would do.”  Brigitt said seriously.  She stared at me quite openly.  “Why do you blush like that?  You have girlish inclinations perhaps?”  she asked.

My mouth dropped open with this apparent attack on my masculinity, but just as I started to deny it, Martina laughed and put her arm around my shoulder.

“Don’t listen to that old grouch!  Her English is awful!  She meant nothing by that at all!  She’s probably just jealous of your pretty hair.  Swiss men don’t like their hair as long as that.  Too scared that us girls will laugh at them and call them ‘girls’ too.  Just ignore her when she gets mean!”

I put my hand to my pony tail.  “I’ve been meaning to get it cut since I arrived in Europe.  Just never have seemed to find the time.”

“How long have you been in Europe.  And where have you been?”  Ingrid asked pleasantly, and the conversation got steered on to a more conventional area.

It took me a little while to realize that I was being skillfully interviewed as to my family - none.  Marital status - single.  Relatives - none.  Job prospects - poor.  Financial status - poorer.  they got all this information from me in practically no time at all.  I did find out why they were so nicely dressed.  They had come into town to buy a birthday present for “Mutter” - their mother.  It seemed that her birthday was the following day, and they were having a terrible job agreeing on what to buy her - “She’s impossible!  Has everything!”  Martina complained, and the other two nodded their heads in agreement.  Shook their heads to show complete befuddlement.

 There also was a chance that their mother would meet them at this sidewalk cafe as well, as she was going to be passing it on the way to visit a friend who lived close by.

“You got all dressed up, just in case  you met your mother for a few minutes?”  I teased them back a little.

“You don’t know Mutter!” Ingrid said, laughing.  “She’s very proper...”

“Very BOSSY!” Martina interjected laughing...

“Wants things just SO!”  said Brigitt.

“Wants her OWN way!”  Ingrid broke in again.. and all three girls laughed loudly.

I couldn’t help it.  Started laughing with them.

“Is this the way you girls behave in public?” A very well dressed woman had appeared from out of nowhere and was addressing our table.  Tall, blonde, and commanding, she was obviously the mother of my three companions. I was taken aback by her sudden appearance, and Ingrid was as well - she started hiccuping immediately.

“Oh Mutter!  Look what you’ve done!”  Martina chided the woman fondly before getting up from the table and giving her a  hug and a kiss.  “Scared our American guest, and almost given Ingrid a heart attack!  Mutter?  This is Charles.  Charles?  This old lady is our beloved Mutter.”

As I stood, the woman turned her blue eyes on me.  It was like being looked at by a searchlight.  She held out her hand.  “Mon Dieu, you are very tiny for an American. I thought all American men were supposed to be huge?”

“He’s girlish Mutter”  Brigitt said.  “That’s probably why.”

I was still in the process of holding my hand out to take hers, so kept on.  Her hand now took mine and was exceptionally strong – or ar least felt that way.  I noticed the huge, heavy gold bracelet, studded with diamonds on her wrist.

“A pleasure to meet you ma’am”  I said, and started to blush again.

She looked at me with a strange expression.

Brigitt smiled.  “In Switzerland Charles you must address her as Madame!”

I blushed even more.  “I’m very sorry MADAME - a pleasure to meet you.”

“See what I mean Mutter?”  Brigitt said.  “He blushes like a girl!”

She spoke so casually and in such a pragmatic tone of voice that there seemed nothing I could do but accept it.  I had to put down what she was saying with unfamiliarity with the English language. Certainly saw no way that I could make a fuss.
“Oh Brigitt!” Martina said, and Ingrid tried to join her - but hiccuped, making everyone laugh.

“Sit down girls.  I’m not staying.”  Mutter said looking at her watch.  “I’m late already.”  A trace of a grin showed on her face.  “I must assume you three have spent all of your money on buying me a gloriously expensive birthday present?”

Martina hit her brow with the flat of her hand.  “Your birthday!  Oh goodness Mutter!  we’d quite forgotten all about it.  Hadn’t we girls?  When is it?  Next week?”

“You are a scamp Martina!”  Mutter was laughing.  “You better NOT forget my party tomorrow night!  Charles?  Would you like to come?” she added.  “You are NOT to buy me a present - only these ungrateful daughters of mine are required to do that.”

Oh.. Thank you, but I couldn’t .. A family party... I’m sorry.. I don’t even know where I’m staying tonight.. Thank you but I couldn’t....”  I was stammering - and, naturally, blushing again.

“Oh ist er aber Scheu haha!  You’ve nowhere to stay?  Girls!  Did you not...” She started indignantly.

Ingrid hiccuped again, but spoke up.  “Mutter?  We didn’t   know   .   Charles?  If you want, you  can stay with  us for tonight.  Right girls?  You could use the spare room.”  Then she hiccuped ,  and everyone laughed.   When the laughter died down, it seemed to be accepted by everyone that I had accepted the offer.

To tell the truth, I was delighted.  A night -   at least  one night’s accommodation with three beautiful women?  FREE!  Not only that?  No language problems!  I could be understood!  I understood them!  Admittedly, Brigitt scared me a little.  She was nice enough, but she kept on looking at me in a funny way, and I wasn’t sure that her questions about my masculinity were altogether because of her bad English. As I've said, there was a possibility that was the reason, but I had my doubts.

Madame left a few minutes later, making me promise to attend her party.  The four of us sat for a little while, finishing our white wine.  Flushed with the knowledge of my free accommodations, I offered to pay for the drinks which, thank goodness, my companions refused.  When I saw the amount that Brigitt laid on the table to pay the bill I almost fainted.  It looked as if we’d been drinking very expensive wine indeed!  I puffed my cheeks out in a silent 'whew' of relief.
We all bundled into a taxi.  Brigitt sat in front with the driver.  “Pouertalesstrasse Muri”  She told him firmly.  The driver nodded and we moved away.   Me, being the smallest, had to sit in the middle of the back seat, flanked by Martina and Ingrid (who had finally got rid of her hiccups).  Both girls put an arm around my shoulder, and I suddenly became very conscious of being an integral part of a very feminine group.  Almost as if I was gradually being immersed in them, becoming as one..

Brigitt paid the taxi and Ingrid got my backpack from the trunk.  Would not let me carry it.  Martina took me by the arm and led me into their house.  It was gorgeous!  A very elegantly furnished, two storied house, with a beautiful view of the Alps.  Looking from the window, Martina pointed out three of the most beautiful mountains I’d ever seen,  the Eiger, Monch and Jungfrau.  I was awestruck at how impressive they were.  The bedroom where Martina took me was very feminine, all in white and different tones of pink.  A canopied bed, covered in a white and pink eiderdown quilt had some stuffed toys and dolls sitting on top of it.  I noticed that the dolls dresses were all of satin - and also in pink and white.  Brigitt brought up my things and laid them down on the floor of my room.  Stood there and smiled, making me nervous

“This is lovely!”  I gasped. “What a pretty room!”  Hated the way my voice squeaked.

“We thought you’d like it.”   Martina said.  “Here’s the bathroom.  You said you’d love a bath?  Well now’s your chance!”

"Of course he likes it!  You expected something else?" Brigitt asked with a smile.  Then she spoke to me again. "Please don't be shy about using the powders and bath oils here. You must be dying to smell nice.  No?'

During our chat at the cafe, I’d mentioned how I’d missed having a nice long soak in a bathtub.  "I mean, it’s not as if I have that many baths at home but not having the choice when you’re traveling, you know?"  I'd said.  "Now Brigitt was saying basically the same thing – but differently.  Again I couldn't pinpoint anything to pick on, but felt decidedly defensive.  Had to settle for "Thank you."

I looked in the bathroom attached to my room.  It was so feminine!  Just about everything was pink and flounced.  To enhance that impression were the cosmetics that lay everywhere - bath oils, powders, shampoos, hair conditioners, perfume and cologne bottles - and all sorts of other bottles and boxes of a feminine nature.  I laughed self-consciously.  “I feel kinda out of place here.”  I muttered.

“Oh you mustn’t!” Martina cried.  “You’ll just have to work at feeling right at home!  Do as Brigitt suggested!  Promise?”

As she said this, she went and turned on the bathwater, holding her hand under the spigot to check the temperature.  Once she had it to her satisfaction, she did something that closed the drain, then dumped a whole lot of bath oils and bubble bath in the water.  The perfume filled the air, that was already becoming misty from the heated water.

“There you are Charle (though it sounded more like ‘Cheryl’)  Get your clothes off, and into your nice warm bath.  Hurry now!”

“Yes Cheryl, Bath time!” Came from the door of the bathroom, and I turned to see Brigitt there now.  She had a strange expression on her face.  I licked my lips nervously.  “Okay.  Okay.  Got the message.   Can I ask you ladies to leave, so that I can get undressed?”  I said nervously.

“No!”  This was from Ingrid who’d joined Brigitt in the doorway. “Clothes off Cheryl!  Into your bath!”

Martina laughed and came towards me.  “Looks like you’re outvoted Cheryl.  Want me to help undress you?”

“Oh no Martina!  I want to do that!” came from Brigitt, who stepped into the bathroom.

“I found him!”  Martina argued. “He’s mine!”

“No!  Share and share alike!”  Ingrid giggled - then hiccuped again!  But she was coming into the bathroom as well!

“Please ladies?  Please?  Okay.  I’m doing it.  Okay?”  I said, almost weeping in embarrassed humiliation.

“Well?  Hurry UP then!”  Brigitt said.  “I’m getting impatient   !”

 They all started whistling and cheering as I took my clothes off. - shirts, then socks and shoes, then my jeans, then my undershorts.

“Lets’ see what you’ve GOT Cheryl!”  Brigitt taunted.  “Take your hands away!  Turn around now!  OH!  What a pretty little thing!  Honest! I think mine’s is bigger!”

“You WISH!”  Ingrid laughed.

“Oh please ladies?”  I whimpered.

“That’s okay Cheryl.  You’ve been a good girl.”  Martina said.  “You can get in your bath now.”

Thankful to get away from the eyes of these suddenly-strong women I certainly wasn't going to argue about being called a girl.  Slid into my scented bathwater, the suds rising up around me, and hiding my embarrassment.  Then I looked up at them, all standing around the tub, looking down.

“Maybe?”  Martina said.

“Maybe!”  Brigitt  said, then added.  “I think so!”

“Stop being such pessimists!”  Ingrid said forcefully. “Perfect!  You did really well Martina.  I thought you were wrong, but you weren’t.  Congratulations!”

I was starting to get scared feelings running through my system, but the scented warmth of the bath was lulling me into a dazed state.  I’d no idea of what they were actually talking about, but, whatever it was, at least they seemed pleased with me.  (I had a little internal shudder when I wondered what might have happened if they were displeased with me).  I laid my head back and half closed my eyes.  Sensed, rather than felt something and opened them again.

Ingrid had got down on her knees beside the bath tub and was looking at my hair intently.  She started to undo my pony tail holder.  I began to lift a hand to stop her, but she just gave my a cool stare and waggled her finger at me, the way you’d caution a child.  Staring at her I found myself freezing my action and let my hand down back into the water again.  She smiled approvingly and she removed the band.  Fanned my hair out.

“Oh lovely!” she said happily.  “I didn’t think it was going to be that long!  Oh Cheryl!  You have such nice hair.  I’m going to make you SO pretty!”

With her blocking my view, I was surprised to feel someone take hold of my leg and lift it partway out of the water.  Horrified, I saw that Martina was holding a lady’s disposable razor and was starting to shave my legs!

“Oh please Martina, don’t!” I protested weakly.

“What are you complaining about?”  she asked jokingly.  “It’s not as if you’ve much hair here. I think Ingrid’s got hairier legs than you!”  She let out a roar of laughter as Ingrid splashed some of my bathwater at her.  It didn’t stop her though.  She’d make stroke after stroke up and down my legs, then wipe the razor on a paper towel.  After Ingrid got back on her feet, Martina took her place and proceeded to shave my arms and underarms.

It didn’t take her long to finish.  Ingrid and Brigitt had left the bathroom, leaving her alone with me.  She had proved to be the nicest one of the three, so I felt I could talk to her.

“Why are you doing this to me?”  I asked weakly.

“Don’t you like it?”  was the answer she gave, but she spoke kindly.  She stroked my erection briefly and gazed at me with challenging eyes.

“No... well  ... some ...”  I admitted.

“Well then.  We’re not hurting you, and you admit to liking what we’re doing.  And you DID promise to go to Mutter’s party tomorrow, didn’t you?”

“What does that have to do with it?”  I asked, perplexed by this sudden change of subject.

“Well silly!  We only have one costume that will fit you - and no chance of getting another..”

“A costume?”  I interrupted her.

“Yes.  Didn’t Ingrid or Brigitt tell you that it was a costume party?”

 I shook my head. “No.  Is that what this is all about?”

“Of course, silly!  Now?  Why don’t you just lie and enjoy your bath for another ten minutes.  I’ll look you out something to wear...”

“Oh thanks Martina.  There’s some clean stuff in the main section of my back pack..”

“Oh?  We didn’t know that.  It all looked dirty, so Ingrid’s going to wash it later...

“But what....?”

“Cheryl?  Behave!  Stop asking so many questions!  Stop arguing!  Want me to lose my patience?”

“No.”  I said meekly.

She patted my head.  “Fine!  That’s a good little sissy boy!”

Her reversion to being mean bothered me.  “Oh Martina!  I’m not a sissy” I complained.

She smiled down on me.  “No?  You’re sitting in a perfumed bubble bath?  You have your legs and underarms shaved?  Have nice long, girlish, hair.  Let yourself be called Cheryl?  Have soft weak looking arms?  What are you if you’re NOT a sissy - a girl?  Think you're a man?”

Ashamed, I didn’t answer, just looked down at the water instead.  She took hold of my ear lobe and made me look up at her. “I want you to tell me - right now - that your name is Cheryl, and that you are a little submissive sissy boy.  Verstanden!    Now   please!”

My eyes were watering, but whether from the pain in my ear, or humiliation, I didn’t know.

“My name is Cheryl, and I’m a little sissy boy - a submissive sissy boy, I mean.” I squeaked out.

She smiled kindly at me and let my ear go.  I sat there in the bath, rubbing me ear lobe and looking up at her.

 “That’s better!  Much better!” she said,   “Very good Cheryl.  Time to get out of the bath and dry yourself off.  After that?  powder yourself with this stuff here - then put on that robe hanging at the back of the door,  and come back into the bedroom.  Don’t keep us waiting, please.”

The ‘stuff’ was heavily perfumed talcum.  I applied it liberally, using the large fluffy applicator.

The robe was of peach colored satiny material that came almost to my ankles, and  sleeves that became huge as they ended at my wrists.  It was decorated with gaudy blue flowers on some sort of twining green ivy.  It felt nice on, and I was very particular in the bow I used to tie the sash at the waist.    I had to admit that I felt just like a sissy.  Of course they had picked up a wrong impression somewhere, but I could see that I'd need to correct them sometime.- but one cannot claim to be masculine while dressed in satin, and smelling effeminate. I took a deep breath and went back into the room, where my three tormentors sat chatting.  They all looked up at my entrance, smiling a welcome.

“Well!  If it’s not our little sissy boy!  Isn’t he pretty!”  Brigitt sneered.

“Not as pretty as he’s going to be in a little while!”  Ingrid said, getting up. “Let’s go, Cheryl.  I’ve been just dying  to get my hands on your hair.”

“What do you mean Ingrid?  Please?  What are you going to do?”  I had to ask.

“Do?  I’m going to do your hair of course.  Never heard of a hair do?  But follow me.  The stuff I need is in my bathroom.  Let’s go, little sissy Cheryl.”
She wasn't mean or anything and I felt that it might be a good time to try and explain the mistake that had been made – but Brigitt looked at me darkly, and I went along.  I followed Ingrid obediently down a long hallway and into her bedroom then bathroom. She had me sit on a chair in front of her sink. “Okay Cheryl.  Lean forward, and we’ll shampoo your hair.  There, that’s it!”

She soaked my hair, then applied shampoo, then rinsed thoroughly two or three times,  and then repeated the process twice more.  My hair had never felt so clean.  I would have enjoyed myself much more if the shampoo had not been so heavily perfumed.  As it was, I felt almost dizzy from the scent.

My back was beginning to ache from bending forward so much, so I breathed a sigh of relief when she let me straighten up.  She took a towel and roughly dried my hair for about two minutes.  “Just get most of the wet away,” she explained.  Then she wrapped a little cape-like thing about my shoulders.  It seemed to be made of plastic and was fastened by dainty ties at the neck.  She tied in me in, fastening the ties into a little bow.  Then she put on a pair of latex gloves and started massaging a creamy solution into my hair.

“What’s this Ingrid?  Hair conditioner?”  I asked.

I saw her nice smile reflected in the mirror.  “Not exactly, Cheryl.  Just wait and see what it does for you though.  You’ll be so pretty!”

 When she had finished, she went back into her bedroom.  Came back with a women’s magazine.

“I know this is all in Swiss, and you can’t read it.”  she said  “But just sit here for a while and look at all the pretty dresses the models are wearing.  When I come back, you can tell me which one you like best - and why you like it the best.  Yes?  Then maybe anything else you se that you would like?”

It seemed like an awfully long time she was gone, but it was more like a half hour.  I’d learned though that having company of any of these women generally made me uncomfortable one way or the other, so studied the dresses in the magazine quite contentedly.

When she came back, I blushingly told her that my favorite dress was one worn by a bridesmaid in one of the articles.  Blushed even more when she pointed out that I’d picked one whose color would suit me perfectly.  As we chatted, she had me lean over the sink again, and rinsed my hair out two more times.  Then she allowed me to get upright again and combed my soaking wet hair straight forward.   I had to look down as the hair was getting in my eyes, but a glimpse of reflection made me wonder.  My hair looked quite light colored.  Wasn’t it usually the case that hair looked darker  after it had been soaked?

Then she seemed to be squeezing another kind of lotion onto my hair.

“More conditioner Ingrid?”  I asked.

“Oh no!  This will help make your hair behave the way I want.  It’s called setting lotion.” she told me.

I was starting to be afraid.  Setting lotion?  Wasn’t that the stuff.....?

I never got the chance to complete the thought.

“Hold perfectly still for a moment Cheryl.  I want to get these parts just right.  Understand?’

“Yes Ingrid” I said meekly, then looked in the mirror.  Saw that there was no doubt about it.  She had dyed my hair, I was a blonde - a platinum blonde!

“Oh Ingrid!  What have you done?”  I was almost weeping.

“Just shush you ungrateful little sissy boy!” she snapped.  “I’m working to make you pretty.  You should be grateful to me, not moaning! Verstanden!  If you don’t start behaving, I’ll take you over my knees.  Give you a right good spanking!  Ich versohle Dir den Hintern, Kleiner!”

I didn’t know what she meant, but could make a good guess so sat very quiet, very still, , horrified, as she combed two straight parts about four inches apart in my hair.  Then, she took some huge pink rollers and started rolling my hair up - so tight that I winced.  Then she pinned them to my hair.  She only used three big jumbo rollers at the top, then went to a smaller size at the back and sides.  She was very deft, but it still took her a while to finish.   I wasn’t sure, but I could have sworn there were more than another twenty rollers added before she finished.  My scalp felt like it had been spanked.  I just wanted to scratch at it, so much - but she wouldn’t let me.

Then, she sprayed my whole head with lacquer!  The whole room seemed to fill with the smell of it.

“That’s why I use the perfumed shampoo Cheryl” she explained. “It’s the only way to overcome the lacquer odor and for you to still smell beautiful and girlish.”
The final humiliation came when she fitted a black hair net over my head.  It was of a much thicker mesh than I’d ever seen before, and had a little satin bow that sat just above my brow.  Then she paraded me back into her room where her sisters whistled and made little kissy sounds at me as if I were a girl. They all laughed as I started to cry.

"Says he's not a sissy!" Brigitt commented dryly. "Sure sounds like one to me!"

"You're just being cruel!"  Martina laughed.

I cried more when Martina plucked my eyebrows and pierced my ears, but then she and Ingrid had me lie back in a reclining chair and put cool pads on my reddened eyes.  They felt lovely, and I made no complaint as a cleansing masque was applied to my face.

“Cheryl!  Your toenails are a disgrace!”  Martina said. “Can’t you take care of yourself?”

“I’m sorry Martina.”  I mewled weakly.

“Oh, that’s all right, I suppose.” she said nicely. “I can do something with them, I guess”

I felt cotton balls being placed between my toes then knew that she was applying polish to the nails. Ingrid was working on my fingernails.  It took me just a little time to figure that she was applying false nails.  I took a huge breath.  My ordeal was almost over I thought.  But I was wrong.

 “Sit up sissy.  Just for a minute.”  I heard Martina say.

I did as she had said, then felt my robe being pulled back to reveal my bare shoulders, then being pulled back all the way down to my waist.  With the pads over my eyes I could see nothing at all.

“Here, hold your arms out in front of you - just a little,”  Ingrid said.  “That’s good!”

 Seconds later, a bra had been looped over my arms and was being fastened at my back, and straps were being adjusted at my shoulders.  I knew what it was, there was no sense in kidding myself.

“Sit Straight up Cheryl.  Stop slouching!”  Ingrid snapped at me.

Then, I could feel them put something into the bra cups, followed by some muttered whispers in Swiss, and more tiny adjustments.

“Cheryl?  Is that comfortable on?”  Martina asked.

I nodded, too ashamed to talk.

Then I could feel someone very close to me, with a strange feeling that my chest was being marked.  Then, surprise!  The bra was taken off!  Then something cold was being painted on my chest.  I could feel my skin shrink at the feeling, then something was being pressed up against both sides of my chest.  It was held there for only a minute or so, then the pressure was released - but something felt different somehow.  As if I had small weights hanging from my chest.   Then I was told to hold my arms out again and my bra was fitted to me - and I knew then that I was  wearing breast forms. Knew from the smell and the feel that they were attached to me now.

“Wow!”  I heard Brigitt speak for the first time in a while.  “You can hardly tell, can you?”

“I must admit, I’m impressed as well.”  Ingrid said.  “Never thought they’d look that real.  Even the color looks natural.  Okay Cheryl. Let’s get your robe back on.  Don’t want you catching cold.”

“Ladies?” I said, my voice quivering.  “I’m very tired.  Please, can I get some sleep?”

“No, Cheryl.  You need to eat something before you go to bed.  And?  Something very important?  Can you walk in high heels?”

“I don’t think so.” I said.  “I’m sorry.  I’ve never worn them, so I don’t know.”

All of a sudden, I could feel Martina standing beside me, hugging me with one arm around my shoulders.

“We’ve been very cruel to you Cheryl.  I’m sorry.  We’re not really mean people, though I know we must look that way to you...”

“Oh no Martina”  I said  “You’re just getting me ready for your mother’s party.  I understand.”

“You do ?”  Brigitt sneered openly. “My!  What an understanding little sissy we have here!  Do REAL men in America wear dresses and false breast for parties? I must GO there!”

“Brigitt!  Behave!”  Martina said, but she was laughing.  “Cheryl?  Please don’t mind her.  But we have to make sure that you can walk in high heels.  Okay?”

I nodded.

“But first?  Let’s get that stuff off your face!  Make you pretty, huh?”

After the masque was taken off, Ingrid made my face up.  She didn’t put a lot on, but I had lipstick, eye shadow, mascara, and blush applied.  She also used a pencil to arch my eyebrows, then inserted gold posts in my pierced ears.
Ingrid’s shoes were a good fit.  I started with about one inch heels adidn’t have any problems.  then I was ‘promoted’ to three inch heels.  I had some difficulty with them, but everyone, including me, was surprised at how quickly I learned to walk ‘properly’ (like a girl).  I actually liked the extra height they gave me.  Was almost as tall as the girls when I wore them.
It took me longer to master how to move my hips properly, but after countless walks up and down the carpet Ingrid and Martina said I was passable.  Brigitt kept maintaining that ‘something’ was wrong, but couldn’t say what, exactly.

I was still yawning a lot, so was given a set of yellow baby doll pajamas to wear, though I had to give up the robe.  They gave me a new bra to wear - one that didn’t clash with my pajamas.  It didn’t provide quite the same support, so I was introduced to the sensation of walking around a house in high heels and flimsy nightwear, with my breasts bouncing around freely, while the hem of my pajama top flounced a great deal at the same time.  The girls laughed a lot.  Brigitt started getting very friendly, coming and hugging me - and patting my backside.  Once she kissed me on the lips, her arms around me, and her hands cupping my buttocks.  But I started to tremble, so she released me when Martina called her off.
Martina made a nice light meal of scrambled eggs and toast.  I really wasn’t that hungry, but the girls forced me to eat some.  They also made me drink a large glass of wine.  After that, I was so sleepy that I couldn’t keep my eyes open.  I made no complaint when Ingrid took me back to her room

I didn’t fall asleep right away though.  I lay there, totally humiliated, wearing women’s baby doll pajamas.   reeking of perfume - and actually had breasts - women’s BREASTS! - attached to me  - and was wearing a bra to support them, just like any woman would.  Somehow, I had been kidnapped by three young women - and dominated into acting and dressing like a girl.  I knew that they despised me for my weakness and was extremely ashamed of my behavior.  Tomorrow, I thought, I’ll start behaving like a man!  Teach these women who they were dealing with!  As I started to plan how I was going to do this, I slid into sleep, happily ensconced  in my nylon, frilly,  pajamas.

 I woke up  with no idea of where I was.  I felt refreshed, but strange.  Something felt funny about my chest.  My hair felt as if it would crack at any moment - all stiff.  I put my hand up to feel it - saw the scarlet nails, and the yellow lacy sleeve of the baby doll.  Closed my eyes as memory came flooding back.  Put my hand down to my chest - yes, I had breasts there.  Oh god!

As I lay there, bemused, the door to my room opened quietly and Martina peeked in.

“Guten Morgen mein Schatz!... Oh good!  You’re finally awake.  Sleep well Cheryl?”

With that, she came into the room, followed by Ingrid.

“Yes Martina.  I slept very well.  I’m kind of groggy though.”  I told her.  “Good morning Ingrid.”  I added.

 Both girls came and stood beside my bed.

“Well lazybones.  Time you got up out of there and got dressed.  But first, why don’t you shower.  Make sure the shower cap covers your hair now!  You get it wet, I’m going to be upset with you!”  Ingrid said.  “Here, let me take this net from your hair.  You don’t need it now.”  With that, she leaned over and carefully released the net from around my hair.

“Yes.  Get showered, but don’t take too long.  It’s after one o’clock now.”  Martina added

“It’s WHAT?” I said, astounded.

“That’s okay.  We wanted to make sure you were well rested, so gave you a sleeping pill last night.”  Ingrid told me.  "Kept the shades pulled."

“But I was sleepy anyway.  What made you think I needed a pill?”

“Well, even girls who are used to having rollers in their hair have a problem at times.”  she said.

 “The tight rollers can make sleeping difficult.” Martina added.  “But enough of this chatter.  Go and get showered.  Call us when you’re finished, and we’ll come and give you a hand.  You’ll find clean undies on your bed when you get back out here.  So get a move on Cheryl!"
With that, both girls left the room.

 It didn’t take me long to shower.  With the large, lacy, shower cap over my hair, I didn’t have a single strand of my hair wet when I came out.  It felt strange washing my breasts.  I wasn’t sure if the adhesive that had been used would continue to work, but it did.  I wondered how much effort would be required to move them after the party  I gave them a minor pull, but there was nothing that felt like ‘give’ – and it hurt - so I stopped.

 When I got back into my bedroom, I got a shock when I saw the lingerie lying on my bed.  A full set of lingerie consisting of a bra, camisole, panties, garter belt, and a short half slip - all in bright scarlet satin, and edged with jet black lace.  A pair of seamed, black, mesh stockings lay there as well.

 I let go a shuddering sigh, and stepped into the panties.  Then I put the bra on, and fastened it at the back after some fumbling.  Then I figured out how to put on the garter belt, so put it on, running the suspender straps under my panty legs.  Then I put on the camisole and short slip.  Lastly, I pulled the mesh stockings all the way up my legs, fastening them to the clips on the suspenders.

 The sensations provided by the materials and the little straps of the lingerie were incredible. I had an erection the whole time I was putting the clothes on, and it wouldn’t go away. There didn’t seem to be one square inch of me that wasn’t being caressed by satin, or tugged by straps or, even worse, feeling the laces of the slip slide back and forward over my stockings.

 Embarrassed at my own reaction, I finally stuck my head out of my room and called for Martina and Ingrid. They weren’t long in getting there, both pleased when they saw how I looked, though Martina immediately reprimanded me sharply for slouching.

 Then Ingrid took me into my bathroom and started removing the rollers from my hair.  This time, she was careful, constantly smoothing my hair as she removed each roller and making happy, contented ‘oh’ as she did so.  It seemed to take forever.  As she removed the rollers, it felt as if my hair was crackling.  Then, she started at the back of my head, pulling a strand of hair, and. brushing it with a rattail comb, next spraying lacquer at the base and smoothing it with her hands.  She repeated this process over and over again.  By this time, my hair was standing out over ten inches from my scalp!   Aghast, I watched her attack it vigorously, teasing and spraying  as she did so.  I had been half dozing, but the sight of what was happening to my hair woke me in a hurry.

It was truly platinum blonde, and swept up into a gleaming cap with bouffant waves curving down at the sides and back, and a coif slanting diagonally over my brow. The hair at the back of my head seemed terribly high and was overhanging my neck.  I had the feeling that it was an old fashioned style, but could see that it suited the shape of my face.  I looked like a  woman who’d been all tarted up.   Ingrid was grinning at me now, well aware of the horror on my face

“Listen you little sissy,” she said  “Our Mutter likes the ‘sixties’ looks on her boys - sorry ‘girls’.  All lacquered, and stiff, and shiny.  She’s just going to LOVE you!

 Singing softly to herself, Ingrid gently touched my hair with her fingertips in a few places then finally stepped back.

“Told you I would make you pretty.  Didn’t I?”

“Yes.  You did.” I said , blushing a fiery red.

“And you make a pretty girl.  You know that now, don’t you?”

I nodded shyly.

“Well, time to get your dress on.  But first, let’s get your petticoat on.”

With that, she went to the closet and pulled out a multi-layered petticoat.

 “You could probably do without the half slip, but I don’t suppose it matters,” she said, spreading the waist of the petticoat out so that I could step into it.  After I did, she tied the fasteners, then had me walk up and down the room, my layered underskirts swishing against my stockings as I did so.   I was ashamed but quite proud of how well I could walk like a woman now, and she seemed pleased.

I didn’t care for the waist clincher too much.  It had fasteners at the front, but then was tightened on by laces at the back.  I was breathless by the time that Ingrid finished lacing me in, but could tell by my reflection that I had lost some inches from around my waist.

 I was somewhat disappointed in my dress.  It was of nice black silk, but rather plain, I thought.  Nice puffed sleeves, with a square yoke neckline that did show a naughty flash of my scarlet undies now and then.  It did have a lovely full skirt though, that showed my petticoats off beautifully.  I adored the way the whole outfit flounced when I walked.  I lectured myself not to get to like wearing women’s clothes too much.  I’d be finished with this whole thing in less than a day, and I certainly didn’t want to get into any bad habits.

Then Martina made me up while Ingrid went to get ready.  Martina was wearing a very smart, lemon yellow skirt and matching jacket.  I was puzzled as to why she wasn’t in costume, then decided that she’d probably have it over at her mother’s house - which would let her go and come back without having to wear some gaudy costume in public.

I didn’t think that Martina did as good a job as Ingrid had done the previous evening.  The makeup she put on me was a lot more obvious now - a high gloss lipstick, bright blue eye shadow, crimson cheeks, black thick eyelashes.  Kind of cheap looking I thought, but didn’t want to say anything.

Once all the girls got together with me though, they all started giggling.  “Would you just LOOK at that hair!”  Brigitt roared.  “Mutter has really weird tastes!  Cheryl looks like a fugitive from one of those old American “beach” movies in the sixties.!”   She came and touched my hair.  “Yech!  what kind of a woman would allow herself to do that to her hair?”

“His kind of woman, I think!”  Ingrid said, also coming and touching it.  “Yes I see what you mean Brigitt!  Cheryl?  What kind of woman are you?”

“I think she’s a tart!”  Martina  laughed.  “Who else would wear all that perfume?  I wonder?  Would she make any money in a brothel?”

I felt so ashamed, I put my head down.

“Merde! “ Ingrid shouted.  “Leave her alone!  If she cries, I’ll have to get her makeup done all over!  Shut up you two!”  Then she came and hugged me.  Don’t cry Cheryl.  You’re pretty.  They’re just jealous.”

We were preparing to leave when Brigitt snapped her fingers.  “I know what’s wrong with the way he’s walking!”

Both Martina and Ingrid made no attempt to hide their impatience.  “He’s walking very well - and we don’t have too much time to fool around.”  Martina told her.

“Martina?  Give me three minutes.  When I bring him back, I’ll guarantee that he’ll be walking much better.  Honest!”

Martina and Ingrid looked at their watches.  “Okay. But please hurry?” Ingrid said.

Brigitt crooked her finger at me.  “This way Cheryl, sweetie.”  Nervously, I followed her to her bedroom.

“Go and stand in front of that chair” she said.  “Then wait for a second or so.”

I did as she had ordered. and heard her looking through drawers for something or other.  A grunt of satisfaction told me that she had found what she was looking for.  Then she went into her bathroom, and I heard the door of her medicine cabinet open and close.

She came and sat in the chair I was facing.  “Lift your dress and petticoats all the way up.  I want to see your panties Cheryl.”

Blushing furiously, I lifted the layers of clothing.  She leaned forward and lifted some of the layers to get a better view.  Saw my erection straining against the material of my panties.

“Thought so.”  she said “You’re not very big in the organ department, are you Cheryl?”

“No Brigitt”  I admitted.

“That’s all right”  she said consolingly. “Sissy’s don’t really need too much.  Here, come closer.”

As I neared her, she reached in and pulled my panties down to about my knees.  Then she shocked me by putting something on my penis.  I couldn’t see for all the layers of my dress and petticoats, but it felt as if something was now hanging from my erection.

Turn and face the other way.”  she said sharply. “You can let your dress down now.”

I did as she said, dropping my skirts happily but, as I did so, I felt her lift my skirts at the back.

“What.. What ... what are you DOING Brigitt?”  I squealed, but was too late as I felt something pulling my penis backwards.  It was painful as long as I had my erection - but that didn’t last long.

“Now, get over my knees.”  she said.  “and be quick about it!”

“Please don’t spank me!”  I cried.  “I’ve been good!”

“Oh shut up!”  she growled.  “I’m not going to spank you.  Just get over.”

Seconds later I was over her knees, my bare backside pointing straight up into the air.  Horrified, the next thing I felt was a finger smearing some kind of jelly on my anus.  Then a finger slipping in there me, bringing some of the lubricant with it.  Then, horror of horrors, something hard and large was being inserted inside me.

I pleaded and whimpered, but the thing, whatever it was, just kept growing inside me.  Then, all of a sudden my backside did a sort of involuntary ‘pull’ – and it was all the way in, and my backside had closed around it!  Astonished, I felt her pull  my panties back up into place.  “You’d better get up and re-arrange those yourself.” she said.  “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

I was going to agree with her until I actually stood up.  At that point, I realized that my penis was now anchored to something that seemed to be fixed in my backside.  I really couldn’t say that it hurt, but I was extremely uncomfortable.  As I was re-arranging my clothes, she took a hold of my arm.  “Let’s go!” she said.

As I started to move with her, I discovered what she’d meant all along about my walk.  I had a constant feeling that ‘something’ inside me was trying to escape.  To prevent it, I was holding my buttocks firmly together, and taking tiny little mincing steps.

Ingrid and Martina both applauded as Brigitt led me back to them.

“Oh Brigitt! You were right!  He’s walking so much better now.  How did you get him trained so quickly?”  Ingrid asked.

“Easy.  Put a butt plug in him.”  Brigitt said.  “I just knew he could be made to walk better.”

“Great!”  Martina said.  “Let’s get his costume finished.”  With that, she produced a frilled white cap, and a pristine white apron - and I knew what I was going to the party as - a maid!

 “I think he’s going to be a very pretty maid.”  Ingrid laughed.

“Yes.  maybe.  But can he curtsey properly.  Like a real ,maid?”  Martina said. “Cheryl?  Curtsey to me.  NOW!”

I did as well as I could, but Brigitt snorted and gave me a hard spank on my backside. “That’s TERRIBLE!  Do it again.  And this time?  Say ‘Yes Miss Martina!”

“I don’t know how to curtsey Miss Brigitt!”  I cried.  “No one has ever shown me!”

“What a shame!”  Ingrid cried.  “A pretty maid like you can’t curtsey?  Here Cheryl, let me show you how.”

And, with Martina and Brigitt smiling at seeing a sissy boy learning how to take his apron into his hands, then place his feet, just so - and when to say “Yes Miss” or “Yes Madame”. - I learned to curtsey like a good maidservant.

I was bundled into the car with three hilarious women.  It didn’t take long before I was being led into Madame’s  house.  My companions  didn’t wait for someone to answer the door, just opened it and led me in.  As I minced my way into the house I saw Mutter in the point of ending a telephone conversation.  She looked at me, puzzled for a second, then her mouth opened in an “O” of pleasure and she put the phone down.

“Look what we’ve brought you Mutter”  Brigitt said, laughing.

“Even though you don’t deserve it!”  Martina added

“His name is Cheryl, the maid with the sexiest hairdo,”  said Ingrid.  “Go and curtsey to Madame, Cheryl”

Face flaming, I minced  and hobbled my way across the floor, very conscious of my petticoats flouncing, my breasts bouncing and the feminine picture I made.  I curtsied “  Good afternoon Mistress”  I said.

“Oh - you’re so pretty Cheryl!  I think I’m in love!  And where did you get that wonderful    hairdo?”  Mutter said, touching my hair possessively and patting my burning cheek.  Then she turned to her daughters.  “Well, if I only get to keep her for my birthday, you girls will address her as ‘she’.  Understand!”

“Who said anything about it just being for the day?”  Martina asked.  “You need a maid - again - don’t you?  We thought that Cheryl might just be interested in the job, eh Cheryl?”

“But we didn’t tell her about how you can’t keep a maid - you sexy old thing!  Just can’t leave them alone, can you?” Ingrid added.

“Are you telling me to keep her prisoner?  I won’t do such a thing!”  Mutter said indignantly.

“No Mutter.  You’ve got the wrong idea.  Cheryl can leave any time she wants.  All she has to do is go to the U.S. consul and tell them - she is American - and has lost her passport...

“AND her clothes..” Martina added, giggling.

I could not picture me, wandering about in a strange town, where I didn’t know the language - in a maid’s uniform?  telling the consul - what.....?   Mutter’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Cheryl? Stand up straight!  Put your hands in front of you!   Pay attention girl!  I need my maids to be obedient little girls.  Will you be an obedient little girl for me?  Quick now!  Answer!”

“Yes Madame”  I said.

“Well you won’t mind just doing one  little thing to show this, would you?”

“Oh no ma’am”  I said.

“Very good!” she smiled.  “What I want you to do is make the prettiest, deepest, curtsey you can.  All right?”

Relieved at the easiness of the task, I smiled and, concentrating very hard, dropped a deep curtsey.

She clapped her hands. “Wonderful!  I think I’ll keep you”  Then she paused  thoughtfully.  “Though.. I hate to ask Cheryl, but would you mind doing something else for me?  Just   one    more thing?”

“Oh no ma’am” I said, curtseying.  “I would be glad to do as you wish.”

She sighed happily.  “Kneel down on the floor there in front of me.  Spread your petticoats nicely now.  There!  Doesn’t she make a pretty picture girls?

Looking directly at her, I couldn’t see the daughters, but heard their murmurs of agreement.  Then she said something in Swiss to someone.  There was a second or two of total silence, then a burst of laughter and someone left the room, giggling loudly.  Mutter then came to stand directly over me, looking down kindly.

“That was very nicely done Cheryl.  Very feminine - but would you mind?  One thing more?  Just a tiny  little thing - for me?”

I nodded.

“I’m sloppy about my personal appearance at times.  I expect my maids to inspect me - make sure that I’m at my best before I leave the house.  Do you think you could learn to do that?”

“Oh yes mistress”  I said.  “I’m Sure I could do that.”

“You are going to be such a wonderful maid.  I can tell!”  she said, patting me on the head. Then added  “Be a dear and check my shoes for me, would you darling?”

 Wanting to show her how well I could perform, I peered closely at her shoes.  They were of a beige leather, shiny and immaculate.

“Perfect mistress.  Just perfect!”  I reported.

“You missed something I think.  Look closer!”

My head was now down right at her shoes.  “I can’t see anything wrong mistress. Nothing!”

“Well, you are a silly girl!”  I saw a spot there on my right - or was it my left - shoe.  Clean it off please!”

“I’ve nothing to clean it with mistress” I said.  “Shall I go and get a cloth?”

“There isn’t enough time for that!  Use your tongue you cretin!  Lick my shoes clean.  Now!”

 And , down on my knees, my face burning with shame at how I had been fooled, I licked this woman’s shoes for the next few minutes.  While I was doing this, I saw somebody’s feet come up to her.  I thought that something was handed to her.  There was a lot of smothered laughing.

“She makes a cute little lap dog Mutter”  Brigitt said, and Ingrid laughed agreeably.

“Very well done Cheryl!  I’m sure you’ll make an excellent maid but...”  the woman standing over me started to say.

“Just ONE thing more?”  the girls said in unison, then  “You don’t object, do you Cheryl?”

Almost weeping in humiliation, all I could do was shake my head.  Then I saw that Mutter was holding something white at about waist level, pointing it at me.

“Do you know what this is Cheryl?”  she asked and pushed it nearer to my face.
 It was made of  a creamy white ivory, and the color threw me off for a  few seconds, then I realized what it was - a model of a male penis - circumcised, and quite a lot longer and thicker than my own.

“It’s a dildo, I think ma’am.”

“Yes.  But do you know that it’s also a magic wand?” she asked.

“No ma’am.  I don’t understand.”

She smiled benevolently.  “Well when I use it – I’ll become a man  – and, guess what?  You’ll become a woman!  Won’t that be fun?”

 What she said made me tremble. “Oh please ma’am.  No..”

“You’ll get that you’ll just love to have it inside you.  In a few weeks, I’ll bet you are knocking on my bedroom door at night, just pleading for me to make you my girl”  Then she put it even closer to my face.  “You promised that you’d be obedient, didn’t you?”

I didn’t answer, staring at the dildo so close to my face.

“Now, here’s what I want you to do - just one more little thing.  Stick your tongue out.  Come on now Cheryl!  There, that’s a girl!  Now?  Just take the tip of your tongue, run it gently along the underside.  Now, that’s not so bad,  is it?  Like to do it again?  Don’t cry Cheryl, you’re doing very well.  But just one more thing?  How’s about giving it a nice kiss with your nice red lips.  Yes just close your lips and give it a nice kiss.  Open your eyes please Cheryl!  Don’t want you missing anything!  Another kiss!  You are SO good Cheryl!  Just for that?  I’ll let you open your mouth, so that you can suck on your new lollipop. Here, let me push it in a little further...

And, kneeling there in front of my new mistress, sucking on an obscene ivory penis, I realized that flash photographs were being taken from all sides.  Someone said   “Bet these will make great passport pictures for her when she needs them”  and everybody laughed mockingly.  Then the daughters all started singing something that sounded like “ Zum geburstag viel gluck,  Zum geburstag viel gluck, Zum geburstag viel Chrissy, Zum geburstag......”  The tune was “Happy Birthday”.

 I could barely breathe, as the dildo was being jammed deeper and deeper into my mouth.  Then I  discovered that the harder I sucked, the more my mistress would pull it back out.  My jaws were aching by the time she relented and pulled it back out to where I was more comfortable.  I continued to suck it, my cheeks moving in and out rapidly.

Mistress beamed at her daughters.  “What a lovely obedient girl you’ve got for me.  But you don’t mind if I take her to her room and make some tiny changes?”

“Oh no Mutter!”  The girls chorused. “She’s yours now.  Do anything you want”

Still sucking on my ‘lollipop’, which she continued to hold, I was led out into a hallway, and then into another room.

“Here, take this!”  Mistress said, putting my hand up to the dildo.  “I need both hands.  Don’t stop sucking though. I need you to strengthen your jaw muscles, so I’ll want you to practice for an hour every day.  Understand?”

I nodded and made a deep curtsey.

She untied my apron and proceeded to unfasten my dress, then had me step out of it.  Then she undid my petticoat ties and made me step out of them as well.

“My!  What saucy undies!  Scarlet and black, eh?  Oh, these naughty girls dressing you like that   . And a waist clincher too!  here?  Let my get you out of that, and put you in something more appropriate.  Okay?’

I nodded happily, still sucking desperately.  She nodded her approval, then stepped around my back and undid the laces.   I relaxed as the restriction around my waist was eased, but then watched, horrified, as she went into a closet and came out with a long black corset.

“This will be MUCH better for training you to love  corsets.”  she said.  “It’ll be much tighter and  make you feel like a real girl!  Step into it Cheryl.”

Obediently, I did as she said.  Then she pulled the garment all the way up, and started tightening the laces really tight.

“I can’t breathe mistress.”  I panted after a while.

“Don’t be a silly girl!  You want to please me, don’t you?  Breathe in again - deeply!”

I did, and she tightened the laces some more, then I felt her tie them into a bow.

“Now for your skirt and blouse.  You’ll just love them.  Won’t you Cheryl, my little doll?

I hadn’t seen what she was going to dress me in, but I nodded agreeably a number of times, trying my very best to smile - which was difficult to do because I was sucking the dildo so hard and so fast.

My blouse was white and almost completely transparent  with long full sleeves that ended in six inch satin cuffs with six pearl buttons on each.

“Oh lovely!”  Mistress said.  “You have such lovely soft weak arms.  I just love my girls that way.  And the blouse lets all your pretty undies be seen.  Isn’t that just heavenly?”

At first I thought that the skirt would be easy to wear.  It was made of a black silky material, and came down to my calves.  Then there was a kick pleat, and the bottom of the skirt flared out.  As Mistress fastened me in though, I discovered that I could just barely walk, because the skirt was so tight at the hem. I then discovered that worse was to follow.

 “These are three inch heels,” she said, producing a pair of black high heeled shoes.  “Normally I have my maids in four inch heels, so I’m being kind to you today by letting you were these.  I am a kind mistress, amn’t I?”

She was staring at me, so I nodded again in full agreement.

“And you’ll want to stay with me for a long time, won’t you?  Be my little girl in bed at night and my maid during the day?  Learn to be my sweet little doll girl?”

I was too slow in agreeing I guess, because she came up to me and gently pushed the dildo farther into my mouth. “Suck harder girl!”  she said.

“Now do you want to answer that question?” she asked kindly.

I nodded desperately, tried to make happy sounds out of my mouth.  Tried to let my eyes show how happy I was.  She smiled, pleased at my response.

I was practically choking on the dildo as she fitted the shoes to my feet, then she led me over to the dressing table and sat me down facing the mirror, so that I could see the terrified looking girl there, sucking as if her life depended on it.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to give up your lollypop for a little while.  You don’t really want to give it up though, do you?”

I shook my head vigorously.

“Well, I’m truly sorry.  I want to put more makeup on you - lots and lots of makeup and perfume, and your toy just gets in the way.  But when we’re finished?  If you ask me prettily?  I’ll let you have it back.  Isn’t that nice of me?”

I nodded quickly.

“You just love your mistress, don’t you?”

I was nodding before she had finished talking.

She finally pulled the thing out of my mouth.  “Look at how red your lipstick has made this.  Isn’t that a pretty shade of red?  But your lipstick on your lips needs more.  Pout these pouting lips for me now Cheryl.  There’s an obedient little girl!  Ooooh!  your lips look so nice and inviting! So wet looking!  I’m going to love to kiss them after the party.  And let’s see, what else...”

And she plastered my face with makeup – eye shadow, mascara, blush - and she doused me in perfume!  “I want everybody to know you’re a girl.” she laughed.  “Now?  Isn’t there something you want to ask for?”

“My lollipop? But mistress?  If I suck on it, it’ll smudge my lipstick again - and I know you love to see my lips all wet looking.  Maybe I should wait until tomorrow - or later tonight to have it?”

“A beautiful little maid - and smart as well!” she sighed happily.  “Well, I’ll tell you what.  Here, take this little black purse and put your lipstick in it.  When you’re serving drinks to my guests later on, I’m afraid you’ll have to give up your lollipop, so you can keep that in your little purse as well. Now?  Ask me nicely for your favorite toy.”

 I had to plead for the dildo for a few minutes before she allowed me to have it. She then made me practice how I’d start to re-enter it into my mouth after each time I freshened my lipstick.  I had to lift it in line with my mouth then bring it up almost to my lips.  Next I’d smile happily - very happily - then stick my tongue out and lick it gently, rotating it slowly as I did so, as if I were savoring the finest ice cream cone.  Then I had to kiss it with my lips slightly open.  Then I had to shut my eyes in delight as I pushed the tip into my mouth a little ways.  Then, I had to take it all the way out, and look at it with satisfaction, then put it to my lips again and SUCK it in all the way into my mouth, eyes wide open in delight.  Naturally then, I had to start sucking it as if I were a little hungry baby suckling at its mother’s breasts.  It didn’t take me long to learn to perform all the actions that my mistress desired.

She tied my apron on, fastening a bow at the back, and adjusted my maids cap a little more to her satisfaction.

Lastly, she fastened a velvet collar around my neck, then attached a leash.  Gave the leash a gentle tug.  “Let’s go, maid Cheryl.  My guests should be arriving soon and you’re needed to answer the door - and do all the other sweet things that little sissy maids do.”

And, like the possession I was, I was led back towards the room where I was to begin my life as a maid, mincing and stumbling a little in my high heeled shoes, my breasts bouncing within my scarlet and black lingerie, easily visible beneath my transparent blouse.

Martina, Ingrid, and Brigitt all cheered and clapped as I was led back in front of them by their mother - just as if she were a Roman leading a slave girl into Rome in a triumphant procession.


No comments: