The reason I say that is because I can't help observing that on the last couple chapters, more people have been clicking on the "not" button at the bottom of the posts than the "interesting" or "more" buttons. This would not be a big deal to me, except for the fact that I've gotten relatively little acknowledgment of my recent postings, so a few negative clicks almost feels like a wave of hostility.
I can handle not getting a lot of comments; I know it's par for the course on many blogs. It's the casual negativity that really rankles.
Why should I take it so personally? I didn't even write the thing. Part of me is offended in the same manner as when I see people offhandedly dismissing movies, TV shows or books I like. True, I don't love every single one of Bea's stories; I fully understand if not everything in this one has been appealing to all, but just clicking on "not" doesn't exactly give me a clue as to what it is that prompted that action.
Hopefully, I'm getting bent out of shape over nothing. I know from experience that people are more likely to register dissatisfaction than they are to speak up when they've got nothing to complain about. For all I know, the ones who clicked "not"could simply be jerks who ended up on this blog by mistake.
It was always my view that the reaction buttons are kind of worthless, but since most seem disinclined to comment, if you are one of those who liked this story, I would be obliged if you would take half a second to click on the "interesting" and/or "more" buttons so that I know I haven't been wasting my time. If it makes it any easier on you, "interesting" doesn't necessarily even have to mean you liked it- just that you didn't find it completely dull or without merit.
I hate to sound overly sensitive, but if my contributions are to be met with antipathy or indifference, it would be pointless to continue my efforts to help keep the blog going.
 |
| In fact, forget the blog and the blackjack. Ah, screw the whole thing. |
All grousing aside, despite the malcontents, I don't rue my attempt to preserve this story.
Now here's Bea:
Chapter 6
In which our sissy heroine finds himself in the process of having a complete makeover!
Authors note:
This chapter has been formatted by me (Bea) to conform to previous chapters, but I did precious little else. In actuality, most of it was penned by a very pleasant young sissy who is, as will be obvious, is much better versed than I am in the rites of hairdo’s and cosmetic applications. She also appears as an author fir the very first time on this site – see her story "The Center" If anyone would care to correspond with her directly, she would love to hear from you and can be reached at: cogen777@aol.com .
Thank you very much Priscilla – don’t know what I’d have done without you!
Lying there, face down, impaled by Miss Brigitt, I suffered agonies of shame and humiliation as Madame Directrice approached us and started whispering in her ear. I knew better than to eavesdrop, but could not help but overhear the muffled, but angry exclamations from my tormentor, especially when she’d punctuate them by giving me the occasional sharp slap on the buttocks for emphasis.
I was actually frightened when the young mistress withdrew the dildo from me, and was very grateful that Madame Directrice stayed, murmuring comfortingly to her as I managed to get myself upright. I’m sure that I might have suffered a physical beating otherwise. Miss Brigitt was extremely forceful in tightening my corset that morning after Madame Directrice left and very abrupt in her tone and treatment as I readied myself for my maids duties at the breakfast table. Actually cuffed me about the ears a few times.
For the next few weeks, my training intensified. Whenever I wasn't learning my maids duties, I was undergoing lessons in the demeanor expected of me. I was consistently under the ministrations of Misses Ingrid or Brigitt. I only saw Miss Martina a few times, but she seemed to have forgotten who I was – still treated me nicely all the same, but as a maid. Lady Christina was pleasant, but distant. Never, ever, indicated a desire to have me in her bed again during that period.
My training was definitely becoming more concentrated in some areas. First, my walk had to be just right. Between my ever growing butt plugs, and my introduction to gaffs, and/or penis petticoats, my higher and higher heels and increasingly restrictive clothing, my way of locomotion had really changed. With my tight corsets, all of my skirts and dresses were now worn with a tight inner skirt or petticoats that fitted me like sausage casings, and hobbled me terribly. I now took dainty almost babylike steps, and with my ever higher bouffant do's and beehive styles, I looked as if I was trying to balance my hair. My hands were always held out daintily, with my fingers spread, as if my nails were constantly wet.
I also seemed to be being readied for life outside the house. At least I was now occasionally wearing clothes other than maids outfits and a little more adult than Danielle. We had become almost constant companions and it appeared that we were being prepared to go out in public as a twosome. For some reason, it was apparent that her youth, innocence, and virginity were being emphasized. They were dressing her in puffy little party frocks and poodle skirts, and more and more childish apparel.
I did envy her for her conventional, even if childish hair dos. Her medium brown hair was being kept in French braids, and occasionally Shirley Temple like banana and sausage curls, whereas mine was still the lacquered, difficult to maintain, style favored by my lady.
We both wore exaggerated bows everywhere. In our hair, at our waists, all over our clothes, and we literally dripped ribbon and lace. We had voice lessons, cosmetic class, hairdressing school. We learned everything we possibly could about the feminine arts and domestic sciences.
Danielle impressed me. Despite appearances, she still revolted now and then at being effeminized, though less and less often. I, on the other hand, suffered from mixed feelings of pride and humiliation, when they used me as an example to her of how a sissy – or young lady – should behave – and there was no question about it. That was what I was becoming..
Finally the day came for our scheduled trip to "Miss Daphne's Exotic Illusion Salon and Boutique.” The puzzling thing about the trip though was the fact that I didn't need to sleep in rollers the night before.
The morning of the trip I was dressed in white 4' heels and matching hose, panties, and bra. My waist was practically severed by the 'plus 5' corset I wore. Ms. Brigitt proudly announced me a svelte 18". After slithering into my hobble petticoat, I was given the most adult dress I had worn to date.
It was lavender, with white polka dots. A huge white bow at my waist accented my figure, and the hem flared out, at my knees, and was trimmed in ruffled lace. With my white hand bag, gloves and sun hat trimmed with a lavender ribbon, I really felt like a grown young lady. My hair was done in a tasteful pony tail, and clipped with a pretty barrette. My make up was subtle, but highlighted my eyes quite prettily, I thought.
Mistress Christina and I were chauffeured there by Madame Directerice. We met a tearful Danielle and a smiling Mistress Margot in the lobby. The reason that Danielle was upset was quite obvious. She was dressed more like "Little Lady Fauntleroy" than her usual "Shirley Temple, Let's have a party!" look. “I feel ridiculous!” he stormed. “It’s bad enough to be sissified – but to be dressed like a little girl child is going too far!” (Mistress Margot pulled him into a private room off the foyer for a moment though, and he was more subdued when they returned).
At the same time, I had a premonition, and was pre-occupied by something I'd seen on the way in to the Salon. I had noticed a huge Bay Window in front. In that window was a slightly raised platform.. On the platform were chairs. Seated in the chairs wearing ruffled salon smocks and satiny robes, were patrons of the salon in various stages of beauty treatments.
Some had creamy facial masques while others were wearing frosting caps. A few had hair put up in hot rollers, perm rods, brush rollers or oversized curlers. Some had on hair nets, others plastic caps. Although a couple looked relaxed and were reading magazines while they waited for the next stage of their makeover, most looked nervous and very self conscious as the passersby on the street - mostly women - pointed and giggled.
It was then I overheard a women say, "Just look at those adorable sissies! My husband – I call him Veronica now - still nearly bursts into tears, when I have them put him in the display window, just before his comb out." I was sure then that, very soon Danielle and I would be in that window, subject to all the humiliating comments and finger-pointing of the amused women as they passed by.
Ms. Margot and Ms. Christina spoke to the receptionist and soon our beauty consultants were present in the lobby. After a very private discussion our mistresses went into the boutique and we were ushered into a change room.
The salon had a definite international flavor. Ms. Daphne was French, and Ms. Helene, who had taken the ladies into the boutique was German. Ms. Katherine, an American lady, was going to be "in charge" of me for the day. Ms. Lillian, a British Lady would be taking care of "Little Danielle."
We were made to strip to our bra and panties. We were shown where to hang up our clothes and purses. Our jewelry we placed in our handbags, and we were given satiny robes and matching high heeled slippers. We both avoided each others eyes as we readied ourselves for another step into our transformation into sissies.
Ms. Katherine then said, "Okay girls follow us. First you'll be getting a nice full body wax, followed by an exciting Swedish massage. After that, a hot steamy relaxing sauna, followed
a brisk cold shower, and a dip in the hot baths. You’ll feel wonderful! Then you’ll have your ears pierced, a manicure and pedicure, and of course a facial. Then we'll finish up working on your hair and make up. You'll get your clothes back, just before your final comb out and make up application. Then I believe you’re scheduled to be trying on some sort of gowns in the boutique."
On the way to the waxing room, we passed a sissy in the make up area and heard her crying. I wondered what was happening to her when Ms. Lillian explained she was having her make up outline tattooed on. That scared me.
As it turned out, we wouldn't be wearing the satiny stuff for very long. For much of the next few hours, we would either be disrobed, in bikini swimsuits, or terry cloth robes with matching stretch turbans. The turbans were set off with pert bows at the forehead.
The first procedure, the body wax, was very uncomfortable. To this day I dislike having a hot, zip wax. Our eyebrows, legs and bikini lines were all waxed. Both of us let out little gasps when the wax along with the hair was removed. Then our eyebrows were penciled in.
Next came a relaxing Swedish massage. Although we were on the same adjoining tables for this procedure a curtain was drawn between the cubicles. As the soft music played, Miss Yvette (my masseuse) cooed to me softly talking about this or that. Through the curtain I could hear Carolyn cooing to Danielle. Soon I was rolled over on my side and my knees were brought into my body. I was made to fold my hands across my chest. In this tucked in, fetal type, position, my genitals and rectum were fair game for the expert, well lubricated, fingers and hands of Miss Yvette. Soon a surgically gloved finger was in my anus, and my genitals were being oiled lovingly. Because of the position of my folded hands I was soon rocking back and forth and whimpering like the effeminate sissy I had become, totally under the command of another real woman. Yvette hummed a quiet little melody, more to herself than to me. It sounded almost like a lullaby. I think I heard her giggle softly as, moaning softly, I ejaculated. Within a minute or so I heard a soft sigh come from the other side of the curtain and I knew that Danielle had undergone the same humiliation.
Soon, Danielle and I were being assisted into a steamy sauna, followed by an ice cold shower, then immersed into a heavily perfumed, hot tub. Once we were bathed and rinsed, we were treated to a powdering, lotioning and perfuming that seemed to envelop us in a field of flowers. Very soon we were lying back on the tables, cotton pads covering our eyes, as we were given manicures, pedicures and green clay facials. My ears were also pierced for a third set of earrings.
Still wearing the facial cream we were escorted back to our dreaded window seats, dressed now in 3" heeled slippers, bikini swimsuits,and our ribboned turbans and pink robes. There were about four onlookers standing outside grinning and pointing at us as we came back into view. Both Ms Katherine and Ms Lillian were waiting for us.
“My goodness Lillian!. These girls should look all relaxed!” Katherine said. “But they don’t, do they? They look tired instead. I wonder why?”
“I think I can guess” Lillian laughed. “I’ll bet that these naughty girls Yvette and Carolyn have been playing with our little sissies. Getting them all worked up.”
Katherine laughed. “Yes, that’s probably it. I think I’ll milk my little sissy Cheryl.. Get her revitalized.” She crooked her finger at me. “Come over here darling. Closer to the windows so’s the ladies outside can see better.”
She had a square of a silk fabric in her hand and what looked like a pair of panties.. I shrank back into my chair, shaking my head in a horrified denial.
“Cheryl! Be a good girl! Do as I tell you!” she commanded.
“ Don’t Cheryl! This is too much to ask, even of a sissy!” Danielle exhorted me.
“Be quiet Danielle! You’re going to be next!” Carolyn snapped.
“Please Mistress Katherine. Please don’t” I pleaded, but the obedience I'd had instilled in me for weeks took over. I got up from my chair, and starting to cry, heading towards her.
“Oh you silly little sissy! I’m not a mistress!” Katherine giggled. “Just come on. Over here, where the nice ladies can see what I’m doing to you. There’s a good girl” she added as I reached her, and she pulled me into her embrace. “But lets get you properly dressed for this” she laughed. “Get these bikini panties off you”. With that, she reached up under my robe and, getting hold of my panty waistband pulled them down for me to step out of.
Daintily, I did so – and the next thing was that she was opening up a pair of satin panties for me to step into. I didn’t know what was going on, but put my feet into the openings and felt her pull my new undies up my legs. I hadn’t looked at the new panties too closely, but all of a sudden thought I heard what sounded like tiny bells ringing down in that area.
The thickness of the glass muffled some of the sounds, but I heard many of the amused comments from the onlookers. Most were in Swiss though, so I was happily ignorant of most of what was actually said as, the front of my robe open to the street, Katherine’s hand – and the silk square were slid through the opening and I was masturbated in public… She even had me make soft mooing sounds as she slowly caressed me to ejaculation. Again I heard the sound of the tiny bells all of the time she was administering to me.
“Now it’s your turn, sissy Danielle” I heard Lillian say. This was followed by a sharp slap, and Danielle’s voice snapping “Keep your hands to yourself!” At first I was confused, and then it dawned on me. He had slapped Ms Lillian!
His rebellion was short lived however. Ms Katherine immediately joined her friend in subjugating my friend – to the vast enjoyment of the growing number of women spectators.
Ms Lillian had been taken aback by Danielle’s slap but started laughing out loud as the two women easily overcame the ineffectual struggles of my weak sissy friend. As Danielle finally slipped into Katherine’s embrace and caresses, Lillian left them and came over to the chair where I sat.
“I think that you should have come to help your friend, don’t you? Aren’t you ashamed for not helping him? Sitting here like a sissy coward”
I blushed. She grinned widely and called over to her friend. “Hold off a second Katherine, lets give our spectators a treat!” Then, giggling and laughing, she pulled me out of my chair and then sat down again, pulling me down over her knees. Squalling helplessly, I then had the back of my robe pulled up and was spanked severely on my bikini panties. The women outside the window all applauded heartily at the sight of two sissies being manhandled simultaneously and weeping softly in concert, one being milked against his will, the other licking his legs oh so prettily as his backside was spanked. Off to the side I could hear the sounds of tiny bells and Danielle mooing softly. My own panty bells ring quite merrily with the severity of the spanking.
Later, after our faces had been washed and cooled, we were allowed to look at our gleamingnails. Mine looked gold or brown. A lady "monitor", seated near the window, and used to keep an eye on unattended sissies, let me know that my color was "Smoky Cinnamon" and that Danielle’s was, "Satiny Crimson."
"All the hair colors and cosmetics we use here are from the Ultra Priss Cosmetic Company. We just got in a whole new line we're trying out. It's the Spicy Sissy Collection." the monitor remarked. She then told us we could read fashion magazines or talk, but we had to face the window so the people could see us. From time to time she would have one of us get up, mince close to the window, and smile and curtsy to the people watching us. They were still mostly ladies, though the total number had decreased since the physical activities had died down..
But all good things must come to an end, and very soon we were called through to the styling area. Our monitor directed us there and we were immediately taken to a sink to have the goop removed from our faces. Then we were ushered into a lounge area, where my Mistress and Madame Margot sat waiting.
Madame Margot welcomed both of us, an evil smile playing on her narrow lips. “We’ve been hearing that you girls are becoming the main attraction in the window today? You really must learn to curb these exhibitionistic tendencies Danielle. You’ll be leading poor Cheryl astray!”
“You are very mean aunt!” Danielle remonstrated quickly. “I am not as you say. I am being forced.. . . .”
“Danielle? Do you want me to call for Miss Katherine again? Have her restrain you?” Margot interrupted.”
“No aunt. Please don’t have me shamed any more,” Danielle capitulated, subjugation evident in his voice as he did so.
“Very good Danielle. I’ll forgive you. After all, you’ve had a very busy day. Have you been enjoying those little things that girls – and little sissy boys love??” The threat was deep in her voice.
Danielle knew what he had to do. He curtsied and managed a travesty of a smile. “Oh yes aunt Margot. I’ve had a wonderful time. And I’m sure that Cheryl has as well. Right Cheryl?”
I was well aware of what was required of me as well. Simpering, I curtsied and said “Oh YES! It’s been a wonderful experience!”
“Well, seeing you’re enjoying it so much? We won’t take you with us.” Mistress Christina said laughing. “For the time being girls, Margot and I are going back to my house. We have had lunch, so are going to rest and maybe have a drink or two. Then we’ll have a light supper, and then wait for your return. After that? We’ll have the two of you try on some gowns we've selected for you.. Have you any questions?”
Both Danielle and I looked at the ground and shook our heads.
“Very well then! Now be good little sissies and don’t be creating any more disturbances!." Mistress Christina said. She and Madame Margot then came and kissed us, then left without saying another word. Before Miss Katherine, Miss Lillian and their able assistants started on our hair, Danielle and I were served a light lunch of chilled shellfish, salad, and tea. We didn’t talk much, realizing that soon the crowning glory of our transformation would begin.
Once lunch was over, we were led to the special styling area. Our consultants told us that they were only responsible for giving us our cuts, perms, sets and comb outs. Our hair color and make up was going to be done first by special 'colorists.'
These girls, Jeanette and Pamela, took Danielle and myself to their adjacent individual ‘cubes’ then removed our turbans. Next came rich and thorough shampoos. Then they began to work in the specialized colors they had mixed for us. Pamela called mine, 'Copper Sparkle.'
"It's gorgeous," she said. "Wait until I give you a sort of frosting and highlighting. If you are in a well lit room around a mirror, the lights will seem to dance off your hair. I'm going to use a very generic, strawberry blonde for the frost/highlight stage. It will set off the brilliance of the coppery red, and make you look stunning."
She let the color set before giving me a crème rinse. Then she put a plastic cap with a lot of holes in it on me and began pulling hairs through the holes with a thing that looked like a crochet hook. Again it was uncomfortable. Soon she had an amount of hairs pulled through, that satisfied her, then began applying the second color with a sort of paint brush.
I was told my hair had been conditioned during the massage with a hot, creamy, leave-on conditioner. It had only just been rinsed out during my shampoo. Finally she wrapped sections of my hair with foil, and escorted me to a dryer. Just about then, Danielle was also being seated under her drier alongside mine. "Fashion or Romance?" Miss Jeanette asked.
We both looked at her with obvious questioning glances.
"What type of magazine would you girls like? Fashion or Romance?" she replied .
We both opted for romance, and much to our surprise, found that the magazines contained sissy bridal stories. These stories were entitled, "Loving Dommes", and "Satisfied Sissies". Each was very good, we agreed later when we swapped notes. It didn’t take me long to realize that we were now playing the same role of the sissies we had seen when we first entered the salon. I didn’t say anything to Danielle though, realizing that I was actually quite comfortable in playing the part – and relishing the break from the girl’s attentions.
Our trip under the dryers ended, and we were given yet another cream rinse before our haircuts were begun by our original consultants. Miss Katherine then explained to me that we were being given so many heavily perfumed cream rinses in hopes of toning down the smell of the perm solution. In Danielle’s case it was needed even more, because of the large amount of jell and lacquer being used on her.
"We have this new apple scented spritz we use to counter act the affects of the lacquer", she stated.
She began to comb, section and trim my hair and when this was finally done she stepped back to let me get the full effect. As I said earlier, we were seated on special, very high salon chairs. The booth was mirrored on three sides with a curtain in the middle. It wasn't being used at the time. There was also an unused curtain in back.
The chairs were high enough, that I could see my full body, from my painted toes, to my titian topped head. The platform around the chair made it so that the stylist was eye level with the top of my head. Instead of my raised position making me feel superior, it made me feel very helpless and vulnerable instead.
My hair had been bobbed, with full bangs. The length was such that it was not almost shoulder length at the sides of my face, and tapered shorter towards the rear, to about just off my collar. It was a perfect cutting. Katherine saw my pleasure, and turned me towards Danielle and Miss Lillian
Danielle's hair was a beautiful, Burnished Auburn, with burgundy highlights. It was just to the top of her shoulders, had full bangs, and framed her face perfectly. We smiled at each other, shamed I think, but becoming more and more content in our transformation.
Soon our hair was being wrapped with perm rods and papers. The ones being used on Danielle were of a darker color plastic then mine. Miss Katherine used small rods in the front and top and larger ones at my back and sides. She rolled them really tight. At least, I thought they were tight then. But I was in for a really big surprise.
Soon she finished rolling me, and took a gauzy cotton wrap, put it behind my head, and pulled all of the rollers together really tightly. She then tied the cloth off in front of my head in a neat but very tight bow. Handing me a warm wash cloth, she had me tilt my had back, and instructed me to wipe any solution off, that might drip on my face. She then snipped the top off of a squeeze bottle of perm solution and began to saturate each rod and paper with this really smelly stuff. When she had finished each rod, she used up the rest of the solution by moving the bottle in a circular motion and saturated my entire scalp. Finally she wrapped up the entire soaked mess and got me under the dryer again.
The effect of the smelly solution had been to make the rods feel yet tighter, but this was nothing though compared to how tight they felt when the dryer heat came on.
The only thing I could do to keep my mind off the heady odor and the tightness off the perm rods was to go back to reading my romance magazine. (There was this really neat story of this sort of country club, southern belle, trophy sissy housewife, named Prissy, who had her very own sissy maid, Beatrice Claire. They were really great friends, and the Mistress of the household let them do all kinds of stuff together. Movies, share clothes, do each others hair and nails etc. Of course the little belle's first responsibility was to the mistress, and the mistress would alternate, taking each of them to bed separately. It was a little mixed up in the relationship aspects, but I thought it nice and sexy to read).
Once dried we got another cream rinse and then a similar application of neutralizer from another squeeze bottle. It didn't smell any better.
During this process we were made to take another series of trips to the window and again had to wave, curtsy, and smile for the viewers.
“Must keep your fans happy girls. Let them see that you care!” Ms Lillian sniggered, her English accent very noticeable.
This was short lived, however, and after yet another scented rinse, I was ready for my comb out, styling and make up. Danielle was getting the same with a heavy duty gel set thrown in for good measure.
Our rods had been removed during our last cream and water rinse, and now our stylists were toweling us to a sort of damp tousled look. Immediately this was finished, Miss Lillian began work a huge amount of pink setting gel into Danielle’s hair. Then she began to set it on these rollers that looked like small soup cans.
I felt that my styling was going to be much more grown up, and was delighted at the prospect. Miss Katherine took a small amount of sculpting lotion on the tips of her fingers and worked in into the ends of my hair. Then she began to lightly fluff it with her hands. After a light spritzing, I was left with a gorgeous head of shiny, springy curls. To add some hotness, to my sexy appearance she took the hair on the left side and pulled it back to expose my ear. She pinned it in place with a ornate, jeweled, barrette. “Just you wait until we put your make up and jewelry on! See how pretty we’ve made you!" she smiled. Then "Let's get you dressed" she added.
Soon I was in the lounge area, again having some light fare, served to me by an obedient sissy maid. (I did think that her walk was very masculine though. I’d have made her wear a bigger butt plug, I thought to myself. But I thanked her graciously – like a real lady would).
Then back to the dressing room, where after I was naked, I was given my freshly laundered (hand washed by sissies), panties, bra, and hose. The wardrobe mistress, Lady Claudia, announced that my mistress wished to put my gaff on me later when I got home. I was glad that I had not worn my butt plug to the salon.
After I'd stepped into my heels I automatically sashayed to the lacing bar. I might mention, that with a butt plug in, I minced, but without one, my walk was the sexy sashay of a runway model.
Soon I was being laced in tightly by the maid who had served me earlier. She wasn’t very good – nowhere near as tight as Miss Brigitt – but I wasn’t about to complain!
Finally I stepped into my dress, and reached into my purse for my 2 sets of earrings and my charm bracelet. I got back to the styling station just in time to see that poor Danielle was still undergoing work on her hair. At that point Miss Lillian was applying a foamy setting lotion and a full can of lacquer to Danielle’s tightly rolled hair.
Danielle’s eyes were tearing up from the effects of the spray and the complete humiliation of seeing me dressed prettily while she was still requiring attention.. Then she received a really healthy application of perfumed spritz and burst into tears. "Cheryl, I'm so sorry I made fun of your hair," she sobbed hysterically. "Please tell your mistress I said that," she begged.
"I'll certainly mention it," I replied. Of course I wouldn't dare to intercede on her behalf, but I wanted to make her feel better.
As Danielle was escorted towards the dryer, I was given a real surprise. In walked our mistresses. Strangely enough, it was Ms. Margot who walked into MY styling area along with my colorist. She then closed the curtain, and helped me into the chair. Miss Pamela thenhelped me into a smock and then Mistress Margo asked her to pin up my skirts in front.
"I can put her gaff on easier, when you’re finished," she explained. "Here my child, let me put on these new ear rings I bought for you. Your new pierced holes look lonely."
I was shocked at this new degree of intimacy that seemed to have been formed between me and this awful woman, but had to agree that the jade ear rings were stunning.
“Thank you mistress” I said gratefully. “These are really pretty!”
She smiled and stepped back to let Pamela go on with my makeup.
After Miss Pamela put on my foundation, she powdered it to give it a softer look. She then penciled in a pronounced arch to my nearly non existent eyebrows to give my eyes a very vacant "little girl lost" look.
Following this were mascara for my lashes and a colorful blend of pastels for my eye shadow and blush. While she outlined my lips with a dark brown shade she told Mistress Margot of the benefits of permanently tattooed make up. Mistress Margot sounded very interested. At no time did she mention that she wasn't my mistress. At the same time, the women whom I believed to be my true – my REAL mistress, was comforting a whimpering Danielle, just before her descent under the dryer in the next cube.
I wasn't positive about this new turn of events, but had the sinking feeling that I would soon find out. At the same time, the ministrations of Pamela were very soothing, very relaxing. I settled back and enjoyed the feeling of being beautified. Finally, my lips were coated with a lovely shade that Pamela told me was called Creamed Ginger Matte and I felt absolutely gorgeous.
Then Miss Pamela left and Mistress Margot went to the styling table and picked of a jar of scented cocoa butter cream. She sat next to me, slid my panties to my knees, and propped me up on a velvet pillow. Applying the cocoa butter to her fingers, she began to expertly manipulate my penis. I wanted to complain. Who had said that she had the right to do this to me? I belonged to Madame Christina! I said nothing, however, scared of this commanding woman.
She began whispering in my ear. "Darling Cheryl, do you wonder why I am here with you, and Christina is with my niece? You may nod dear. I know that you’re speechless with happiness. Besides? I don't want you to interrupt. Well sweetie, Christina has loaned you to me, because I'm lonely for a pretty sissy in my life, and it would not be proper for me to play games like this with my Danielle. After all, she and I, are related. And you were so delightful that night a few weeks ago that I knew you would be happy with this new arrangement.”
She kissed my neck softly, then continued. “In exchange of course, I have given Danielle to Christina as a companion. So now that you two sissies have been fully beautified, we have decided to take you both to the boutique where you and Danielle will model some pretty gowns.
Now, if you agree that you’re happy to be my little personal sissy, you may spurt your sissy cream. If you don't like our little trade, then you must not ejaculate.
Of course, If you refuse, we'll take you to the U.S consul immediately. You can tell them what a nightmare these past weeks have been. How you have been mistreated. All the little sissy things you have been made to do. We’ll even give you pictures of you sucking on your dildo lollipop – and that camcorder tape of you with the vibrator and dildo? I’m sure that the U.S embassy will be shocked at what we’ve done to you. May even want to prosecute that evil Christina and me? What is your answer my pet?" she asked.
Her voice was very melodious and her soft hands were softly caressing my penis and testicles in a way that was driving me to distraction. My breathing was very labored at this point and I was very excited.
“I think that you want to spurt? Is this true, my sweet little sissy? Want to belong just to me? Say yes – then ask my permission, and I’ll let you have release.”
“Yes mistress, I want to belong to you. And please, may I come?”
“You do know that I can be very cruel? That I get a great deal of pleasure from humiliating and hurting little sissies like you?”
“Yes Mistress Margot. But that’s all right. Please may I come?”
“Of course my dear, pretty little sissy. Here, you may spurt into this little chiffon scarf I have in my hand.”
Although not as strong as the previous ones I had a shuddering climax, minus the tears. After all, I didn't want to mess up my make up. Mistress smiled and said.
"Yes that's lovely my dear, you agreed. How wonderful! Come my lamb. We must put on your gaff, and get you together. We need to see how my nephew – my niece now - has turned out."
Weakly, I laid back in her arms as she put the gaff on me, then allowed my skirts to fall back to their proper position, before leading me back to where Danielle and Madame Christina were.
Danielle’s hair had been unrolled and was now being teased, sprayed, twisted, jelled, bushed, combed, sectioned etc. When Miss Lillian finished she had created a high fashion bouffant do, that was called "The Annette", after the beach movie princess of the 60's.
One side was pinned back to show his now- jeweled ears. The rest was totally Bouffant,, flipped up in back and was identical to the beach movie do's of that period.
Her make up was applied like mine except in darker shades to go with her hair and nails. Her lipstick was called Black Cherry Sherry according to Lillian. Meek now, he allowed himself to be led away to the dressing room. Some minutes later he returned with a much slimmer waist.
Instead of the clothes he had worn earlier, he was now attired like a preppy finishing school princess, with high heeled Mary Janes, white tights, a powder blue gabardine jumper with matching vest, and a high collared blouse with lace cuffs and front. His hair was topped off with a lace white bow in back to match.
Madame Christina linked her arm in his at the same time as my new mistress Madame Margot linked arms with me.
“Time for a visit to the boutique, girls” they said – and laughed in unison as they led us away.
End of Chapter 6
In which our sissy heroine finds himself in the process of having a complete makeover!
Authors note:
This chapter has been formatted by me (Bea) to conform to previous chapters, but I did precious little else. In actuality, most of it was penned by a very pleasant young sissy who is, as will be obvious, is much better versed than I am in the rites of hairdo’s and cosmetic applications. She also appears as an author fir the very first time on this site – see her story "The Center" If anyone would care to correspond with her directly, she would love to hear from you and can be reached at: cogen777@aol.com .
Thank you very much Priscilla – don’t know what I’d have done without you!
Lying there, face down, impaled by Miss Brigitt, I suffered agonies of shame and humiliation as Madame Directrice approached us and started whispering in her ear. I knew better than to eavesdrop, but could not help but overhear the muffled, but angry exclamations from my tormentor, especially when she’d punctuate them by giving me the occasional sharp slap on the buttocks for emphasis.
I was actually frightened when the young mistress withdrew the dildo from me, and was very grateful that Madame Directrice stayed, murmuring comfortingly to her as I managed to get myself upright. I’m sure that I might have suffered a physical beating otherwise. Miss Brigitt was extremely forceful in tightening my corset that morning after Madame Directrice left and very abrupt in her tone and treatment as I readied myself for my maids duties at the breakfast table. Actually cuffed me about the ears a few times.
For the next few weeks, my training intensified. Whenever I wasn't learning my maids duties, I was undergoing lessons in the demeanor expected of me. I was consistently under the ministrations of Misses Ingrid or Brigitt. I only saw Miss Martina a few times, but she seemed to have forgotten who I was – still treated me nicely all the same, but as a maid. Lady Christina was pleasant, but distant. Never, ever, indicated a desire to have me in her bed again during that period.
My training was definitely becoming more concentrated in some areas. First, my walk had to be just right. Between my ever growing butt plugs, and my introduction to gaffs, and/or penis petticoats, my higher and higher heels and increasingly restrictive clothing, my way of locomotion had really changed. With my tight corsets, all of my skirts and dresses were now worn with a tight inner skirt or petticoats that fitted me like sausage casings, and hobbled me terribly. I now took dainty almost babylike steps, and with my ever higher bouffant do's and beehive styles, I looked as if I was trying to balance my hair. My hands were always held out daintily, with my fingers spread, as if my nails were constantly wet.
I also seemed to be being readied for life outside the house. At least I was now occasionally wearing clothes other than maids outfits and a little more adult than Danielle. We had become almost constant companions and it appeared that we were being prepared to go out in public as a twosome. For some reason, it was apparent that her youth, innocence, and virginity were being emphasized. They were dressing her in puffy little party frocks and poodle skirts, and more and more childish apparel.
I did envy her for her conventional, even if childish hair dos. Her medium brown hair was being kept in French braids, and occasionally Shirley Temple like banana and sausage curls, whereas mine was still the lacquered, difficult to maintain, style favored by my lady.
We both wore exaggerated bows everywhere. In our hair, at our waists, all over our clothes, and we literally dripped ribbon and lace. We had voice lessons, cosmetic class, hairdressing school. We learned everything we possibly could about the feminine arts and domestic sciences.
Danielle impressed me. Despite appearances, she still revolted now and then at being effeminized, though less and less often. I, on the other hand, suffered from mixed feelings of pride and humiliation, when they used me as an example to her of how a sissy – or young lady – should behave – and there was no question about it. That was what I was becoming..
Finally the day came for our scheduled trip to "Miss Daphne's Exotic Illusion Salon and Boutique.” The puzzling thing about the trip though was the fact that I didn't need to sleep in rollers the night before.
The morning of the trip I was dressed in white 4' heels and matching hose, panties, and bra. My waist was practically severed by the 'plus 5' corset I wore. Ms. Brigitt proudly announced me a svelte 18". After slithering into my hobble petticoat, I was given the most adult dress I had worn to date.
It was lavender, with white polka dots. A huge white bow at my waist accented my figure, and the hem flared out, at my knees, and was trimmed in ruffled lace. With my white hand bag, gloves and sun hat trimmed with a lavender ribbon, I really felt like a grown young lady. My hair was done in a tasteful pony tail, and clipped with a pretty barrette. My make up was subtle, but highlighted my eyes quite prettily, I thought.
Mistress Christina and I were chauffeured there by Madame Directerice. We met a tearful Danielle and a smiling Mistress Margot in the lobby. The reason that Danielle was upset was quite obvious. She was dressed more like "Little Lady Fauntleroy" than her usual "Shirley Temple, Let's have a party!" look. “I feel ridiculous!” he stormed. “It’s bad enough to be sissified – but to be dressed like a little girl child is going too far!” (Mistress Margot pulled him into a private room off the foyer for a moment though, and he was more subdued when they returned).
At the same time, I had a premonition, and was pre-occupied by something I'd seen on the way in to the Salon. I had noticed a huge Bay Window in front. In that window was a slightly raised platform.. On the platform were chairs. Seated in the chairs wearing ruffled salon smocks and satiny robes, were patrons of the salon in various stages of beauty treatments.
Some had creamy facial masques while others were wearing frosting caps. A few had hair put up in hot rollers, perm rods, brush rollers or oversized curlers. Some had on hair nets, others plastic caps. Although a couple looked relaxed and were reading magazines while they waited for the next stage of their makeover, most looked nervous and very self conscious as the passersby on the street - mostly women - pointed and giggled.
It was then I overheard a women say, "Just look at those adorable sissies! My husband – I call him Veronica now - still nearly bursts into tears, when I have them put him in the display window, just before his comb out." I was sure then that, very soon Danielle and I would be in that window, subject to all the humiliating comments and finger-pointing of the amused women as they passed by.
Ms. Margot and Ms. Christina spoke to the receptionist and soon our beauty consultants were present in the lobby. After a very private discussion our mistresses went into the boutique and we were ushered into a change room.
The salon had a definite international flavor. Ms. Daphne was French, and Ms. Helene, who had taken the ladies into the boutique was German. Ms. Katherine, an American lady, was going to be "in charge" of me for the day. Ms. Lillian, a British Lady would be taking care of "Little Danielle."
We were made to strip to our bra and panties. We were shown where to hang up our clothes and purses. Our jewelry we placed in our handbags, and we were given satiny robes and matching high heeled slippers. We both avoided each others eyes as we readied ourselves for another step into our transformation into sissies.
Ms. Katherine then said, "Okay girls follow us. First you'll be getting a nice full body wax, followed by an exciting Swedish massage. After that, a hot steamy relaxing sauna, followed
a brisk cold shower, and a dip in the hot baths. You’ll feel wonderful! Then you’ll have your ears pierced, a manicure and pedicure, and of course a facial. Then we'll finish up working on your hair and make up. You'll get your clothes back, just before your final comb out and make up application. Then I believe you’re scheduled to be trying on some sort of gowns in the boutique."
On the way to the waxing room, we passed a sissy in the make up area and heard her crying. I wondered what was happening to her when Ms. Lillian explained she was having her make up outline tattooed on. That scared me.
As it turned out, we wouldn't be wearing the satiny stuff for very long. For much of the next few hours, we would either be disrobed, in bikini swimsuits, or terry cloth robes with matching stretch turbans. The turbans were set off with pert bows at the forehead.
The first procedure, the body wax, was very uncomfortable. To this day I dislike having a hot, zip wax. Our eyebrows, legs and bikini lines were all waxed. Both of us let out little gasps when the wax along with the hair was removed. Then our eyebrows were penciled in.
Next came a relaxing Swedish massage. Although we were on the same adjoining tables for this procedure a curtain was drawn between the cubicles. As the soft music played, Miss Yvette (my masseuse) cooed to me softly talking about this or that. Through the curtain I could hear Carolyn cooing to Danielle. Soon I was rolled over on my side and my knees were brought into my body. I was made to fold my hands across my chest. In this tucked in, fetal type, position, my genitals and rectum were fair game for the expert, well lubricated, fingers and hands of Miss Yvette. Soon a surgically gloved finger was in my anus, and my genitals were being oiled lovingly. Because of the position of my folded hands I was soon rocking back and forth and whimpering like the effeminate sissy I had become, totally under the command of another real woman. Yvette hummed a quiet little melody, more to herself than to me. It sounded almost like a lullaby. I think I heard her giggle softly as, moaning softly, I ejaculated. Within a minute or so I heard a soft sigh come from the other side of the curtain and I knew that Danielle had undergone the same humiliation.
Soon, Danielle and I were being assisted into a steamy sauna, followed by an ice cold shower, then immersed into a heavily perfumed, hot tub. Once we were bathed and rinsed, we were treated to a powdering, lotioning and perfuming that seemed to envelop us in a field of flowers. Very soon we were lying back on the tables, cotton pads covering our eyes, as we were given manicures, pedicures and green clay facials. My ears were also pierced for a third set of earrings.
Still wearing the facial cream we were escorted back to our dreaded window seats, dressed now in 3" heeled slippers, bikini swimsuits,and our ribboned turbans and pink robes. There were about four onlookers standing outside grinning and pointing at us as we came back into view. Both Ms Katherine and Ms Lillian were waiting for us.
“My goodness Lillian!. These girls should look all relaxed!” Katherine said. “But they don’t, do they? They look tired instead. I wonder why?”
“I think I can guess” Lillian laughed. “I’ll bet that these naughty girls Yvette and Carolyn have been playing with our little sissies. Getting them all worked up.”
Katherine laughed. “Yes, that’s probably it. I think I’ll milk my little sissy Cheryl.. Get her revitalized.” She crooked her finger at me. “Come over here darling. Closer to the windows so’s the ladies outside can see better.”
She had a square of a silk fabric in her hand and what looked like a pair of panties.. I shrank back into my chair, shaking my head in a horrified denial.
“Cheryl! Be a good girl! Do as I tell you!” she commanded.
“ Don’t Cheryl! This is too much to ask, even of a sissy!” Danielle exhorted me.
“Be quiet Danielle! You’re going to be next!” Carolyn snapped.
“Please Mistress Katherine. Please don’t” I pleaded, but the obedience I'd had instilled in me for weeks took over. I got up from my chair, and starting to cry, heading towards her.
“Oh you silly little sissy! I’m not a mistress!” Katherine giggled. “Just come on. Over here, where the nice ladies can see what I’m doing to you. There’s a good girl” she added as I reached her, and she pulled me into her embrace. “But lets get you properly dressed for this” she laughed. “Get these bikini panties off you”. With that, she reached up under my robe and, getting hold of my panty waistband pulled them down for me to step out of.
Daintily, I did so – and the next thing was that she was opening up a pair of satin panties for me to step into. I didn’t know what was going on, but put my feet into the openings and felt her pull my new undies up my legs. I hadn’t looked at the new panties too closely, but all of a sudden thought I heard what sounded like tiny bells ringing down in that area.
The thickness of the glass muffled some of the sounds, but I heard many of the amused comments from the onlookers. Most were in Swiss though, so I was happily ignorant of most of what was actually said as, the front of my robe open to the street, Katherine’s hand – and the silk square were slid through the opening and I was masturbated in public… She even had me make soft mooing sounds as she slowly caressed me to ejaculation. Again I heard the sound of the tiny bells all of the time she was administering to me.
“Now it’s your turn, sissy Danielle” I heard Lillian say. This was followed by a sharp slap, and Danielle’s voice snapping “Keep your hands to yourself!” At first I was confused, and then it dawned on me. He had slapped Ms Lillian!
His rebellion was short lived however. Ms Katherine immediately joined her friend in subjugating my friend – to the vast enjoyment of the growing number of women spectators.
Ms Lillian had been taken aback by Danielle’s slap but started laughing out loud as the two women easily overcame the ineffectual struggles of my weak sissy friend. As Danielle finally slipped into Katherine’s embrace and caresses, Lillian left them and came over to the chair where I sat.
“I think that you should have come to help your friend, don’t you? Aren’t you ashamed for not helping him? Sitting here like a sissy coward”
I blushed. She grinned widely and called over to her friend. “Hold off a second Katherine, lets give our spectators a treat!” Then, giggling and laughing, she pulled me out of my chair and then sat down again, pulling me down over her knees. Squalling helplessly, I then had the back of my robe pulled up and was spanked severely on my bikini panties. The women outside the window all applauded heartily at the sight of two sissies being manhandled simultaneously and weeping softly in concert, one being milked against his will, the other licking his legs oh so prettily as his backside was spanked. Off to the side I could hear the sounds of tiny bells and Danielle mooing softly. My own panty bells ring quite merrily with the severity of the spanking.
Later, after our faces had been washed and cooled, we were allowed to look at our gleamingnails. Mine looked gold or brown. A lady "monitor", seated near the window, and used to keep an eye on unattended sissies, let me know that my color was "Smoky Cinnamon" and that Danielle’s was, "Satiny Crimson."
"All the hair colors and cosmetics we use here are from the Ultra Priss Cosmetic Company. We just got in a whole new line we're trying out. It's the Spicy Sissy Collection." the monitor remarked. She then told us we could read fashion magazines or talk, but we had to face the window so the people could see us. From time to time she would have one of us get up, mince close to the window, and smile and curtsy to the people watching us. They were still mostly ladies, though the total number had decreased since the physical activities had died down..
But all good things must come to an end, and very soon we were called through to the styling area. Our monitor directed us there and we were immediately taken to a sink to have the goop removed from our faces. Then we were ushered into a lounge area, where my Mistress and Madame Margot sat waiting.
Madame Margot welcomed both of us, an evil smile playing on her narrow lips. “We’ve been hearing that you girls are becoming the main attraction in the window today? You really must learn to curb these exhibitionistic tendencies Danielle. You’ll be leading poor Cheryl astray!”
“You are very mean aunt!” Danielle remonstrated quickly. “I am not as you say. I am being forced.. . . .”
“Danielle? Do you want me to call for Miss Katherine again? Have her restrain you?” Margot interrupted.”
“No aunt. Please don’t have me shamed any more,” Danielle capitulated, subjugation evident in his voice as he did so.
“Very good Danielle. I’ll forgive you. After all, you’ve had a very busy day. Have you been enjoying those little things that girls – and little sissy boys love??” The threat was deep in her voice.
Danielle knew what he had to do. He curtsied and managed a travesty of a smile. “Oh yes aunt Margot. I’ve had a wonderful time. And I’m sure that Cheryl has as well. Right Cheryl?”
I was well aware of what was required of me as well. Simpering, I curtsied and said “Oh YES! It’s been a wonderful experience!”
“Well, seeing you’re enjoying it so much? We won’t take you with us.” Mistress Christina said laughing. “For the time being girls, Margot and I are going back to my house. We have had lunch, so are going to rest and maybe have a drink or two. Then we’ll have a light supper, and then wait for your return. After that? We’ll have the two of you try on some gowns we've selected for you.. Have you any questions?”
Both Danielle and I looked at the ground and shook our heads.
“Very well then! Now be good little sissies and don’t be creating any more disturbances!." Mistress Christina said. She and Madame Margot then came and kissed us, then left without saying another word. Before Miss Katherine, Miss Lillian and their able assistants started on our hair, Danielle and I were served a light lunch of chilled shellfish, salad, and tea. We didn’t talk much, realizing that soon the crowning glory of our transformation would begin.
Once lunch was over, we were led to the special styling area. Our consultants told us that they were only responsible for giving us our cuts, perms, sets and comb outs. Our hair color and make up was going to be done first by special 'colorists.'
These girls, Jeanette and Pamela, took Danielle and myself to their adjacent individual ‘cubes’ then removed our turbans. Next came rich and thorough shampoos. Then they began to work in the specialized colors they had mixed for us. Pamela called mine, 'Copper Sparkle.'
"It's gorgeous," she said. "Wait until I give you a sort of frosting and highlighting. If you are in a well lit room around a mirror, the lights will seem to dance off your hair. I'm going to use a very generic, strawberry blonde for the frost/highlight stage. It will set off the brilliance of the coppery red, and make you look stunning."
She let the color set before giving me a crème rinse. Then she put a plastic cap with a lot of holes in it on me and began pulling hairs through the holes with a thing that looked like a crochet hook. Again it was uncomfortable. Soon she had an amount of hairs pulled through, that satisfied her, then began applying the second color with a sort of paint brush.
I was told my hair had been conditioned during the massage with a hot, creamy, leave-on conditioner. It had only just been rinsed out during my shampoo. Finally she wrapped sections of my hair with foil, and escorted me to a dryer. Just about then, Danielle was also being seated under her drier alongside mine. "Fashion or Romance?" Miss Jeanette asked.
We both looked at her with obvious questioning glances.
"What type of magazine would you girls like? Fashion or Romance?" she replied .
We both opted for romance, and much to our surprise, found that the magazines contained sissy bridal stories. These stories were entitled, "Loving Dommes", and "Satisfied Sissies". Each was very good, we agreed later when we swapped notes. It didn’t take me long to realize that we were now playing the same role of the sissies we had seen when we first entered the salon. I didn’t say anything to Danielle though, realizing that I was actually quite comfortable in playing the part – and relishing the break from the girl’s attentions.
Our trip under the dryers ended, and we were given yet another cream rinse before our haircuts were begun by our original consultants. Miss Katherine then explained to me that we were being given so many heavily perfumed cream rinses in hopes of toning down the smell of the perm solution. In Danielle’s case it was needed even more, because of the large amount of jell and lacquer being used on her.
"We have this new apple scented spritz we use to counter act the affects of the lacquer", she stated.
She began to comb, section and trim my hair and when this was finally done she stepped back to let me get the full effect. As I said earlier, we were seated on special, very high salon chairs. The booth was mirrored on three sides with a curtain in the middle. It wasn't being used at the time. There was also an unused curtain in back.
The chairs were high enough, that I could see my full body, from my painted toes, to my titian topped head. The platform around the chair made it so that the stylist was eye level with the top of my head. Instead of my raised position making me feel superior, it made me feel very helpless and vulnerable instead.
My hair had been bobbed, with full bangs. The length was such that it was not almost shoulder length at the sides of my face, and tapered shorter towards the rear, to about just off my collar. It was a perfect cutting. Katherine saw my pleasure, and turned me towards Danielle and Miss Lillian
Danielle's hair was a beautiful, Burnished Auburn, with burgundy highlights. It was just to the top of her shoulders, had full bangs, and framed her face perfectly. We smiled at each other, shamed I think, but becoming more and more content in our transformation.
Soon our hair was being wrapped with perm rods and papers. The ones being used on Danielle were of a darker color plastic then mine. Miss Katherine used small rods in the front and top and larger ones at my back and sides. She rolled them really tight. At least, I thought they were tight then. But I was in for a really big surprise.
Soon she finished rolling me, and took a gauzy cotton wrap, put it behind my head, and pulled all of the rollers together really tightly. She then tied the cloth off in front of my head in a neat but very tight bow. Handing me a warm wash cloth, she had me tilt my had back, and instructed me to wipe any solution off, that might drip on my face. She then snipped the top off of a squeeze bottle of perm solution and began to saturate each rod and paper with this really smelly stuff. When she had finished each rod, she used up the rest of the solution by moving the bottle in a circular motion and saturated my entire scalp. Finally she wrapped up the entire soaked mess and got me under the dryer again.
The effect of the smelly solution had been to make the rods feel yet tighter, but this was nothing though compared to how tight they felt when the dryer heat came on.
The only thing I could do to keep my mind off the heady odor and the tightness off the perm rods was to go back to reading my romance magazine. (There was this really neat story of this sort of country club, southern belle, trophy sissy housewife, named Prissy, who had her very own sissy maid, Beatrice Claire. They were really great friends, and the Mistress of the household let them do all kinds of stuff together. Movies, share clothes, do each others hair and nails etc. Of course the little belle's first responsibility was to the mistress, and the mistress would alternate, taking each of them to bed separately. It was a little mixed up in the relationship aspects, but I thought it nice and sexy to read).
Once dried we got another cream rinse and then a similar application of neutralizer from another squeeze bottle. It didn't smell any better.
During this process we were made to take another series of trips to the window and again had to wave, curtsy, and smile for the viewers.
“Must keep your fans happy girls. Let them see that you care!” Ms Lillian sniggered, her English accent very noticeable.
This was short lived, however, and after yet another scented rinse, I was ready for my comb out, styling and make up. Danielle was getting the same with a heavy duty gel set thrown in for good measure.
Our rods had been removed during our last cream and water rinse, and now our stylists were toweling us to a sort of damp tousled look. Immediately this was finished, Miss Lillian began work a huge amount of pink setting gel into Danielle’s hair. Then she began to set it on these rollers that looked like small soup cans.
I felt that my styling was going to be much more grown up, and was delighted at the prospect. Miss Katherine took a small amount of sculpting lotion on the tips of her fingers and worked in into the ends of my hair. Then she began to lightly fluff it with her hands. After a light spritzing, I was left with a gorgeous head of shiny, springy curls. To add some hotness, to my sexy appearance she took the hair on the left side and pulled it back to expose my ear. She pinned it in place with a ornate, jeweled, barrette. “Just you wait until we put your make up and jewelry on! See how pretty we’ve made you!" she smiled. Then "Let's get you dressed" she added.
Soon I was in the lounge area, again having some light fare, served to me by an obedient sissy maid. (I did think that her walk was very masculine though. I’d have made her wear a bigger butt plug, I thought to myself. But I thanked her graciously – like a real lady would).
Then back to the dressing room, where after I was naked, I was given my freshly laundered (hand washed by sissies), panties, bra, and hose. The wardrobe mistress, Lady Claudia, announced that my mistress wished to put my gaff on me later when I got home. I was glad that I had not worn my butt plug to the salon.
After I'd stepped into my heels I automatically sashayed to the lacing bar. I might mention, that with a butt plug in, I minced, but without one, my walk was the sexy sashay of a runway model.
Soon I was being laced in tightly by the maid who had served me earlier. She wasn’t very good – nowhere near as tight as Miss Brigitt – but I wasn’t about to complain!
Finally I stepped into my dress, and reached into my purse for my 2 sets of earrings and my charm bracelet. I got back to the styling station just in time to see that poor Danielle was still undergoing work on her hair. At that point Miss Lillian was applying a foamy setting lotion and a full can of lacquer to Danielle’s tightly rolled hair.
Danielle’s eyes were tearing up from the effects of the spray and the complete humiliation of seeing me dressed prettily while she was still requiring attention.. Then she received a really healthy application of perfumed spritz and burst into tears. "Cheryl, I'm so sorry I made fun of your hair," she sobbed hysterically. "Please tell your mistress I said that," she begged.
"I'll certainly mention it," I replied. Of course I wouldn't dare to intercede on her behalf, but I wanted to make her feel better.
As Danielle was escorted towards the dryer, I was given a real surprise. In walked our mistresses. Strangely enough, it was Ms. Margot who walked into MY styling area along with my colorist. She then closed the curtain, and helped me into the chair. Miss Pamela thenhelped me into a smock and then Mistress Margo asked her to pin up my skirts in front.
"I can put her gaff on easier, when you’re finished," she explained. "Here my child, let me put on these new ear rings I bought for you. Your new pierced holes look lonely."
I was shocked at this new degree of intimacy that seemed to have been formed between me and this awful woman, but had to agree that the jade ear rings were stunning.
“Thank you mistress” I said gratefully. “These are really pretty!”
She smiled and stepped back to let Pamela go on with my makeup.
After Miss Pamela put on my foundation, she powdered it to give it a softer look. She then penciled in a pronounced arch to my nearly non existent eyebrows to give my eyes a very vacant "little girl lost" look.
Following this were mascara for my lashes and a colorful blend of pastels for my eye shadow and blush. While she outlined my lips with a dark brown shade she told Mistress Margot of the benefits of permanently tattooed make up. Mistress Margot sounded very interested. At no time did she mention that she wasn't my mistress. At the same time, the women whom I believed to be my true – my REAL mistress, was comforting a whimpering Danielle, just before her descent under the dryer in the next cube.
I wasn't positive about this new turn of events, but had the sinking feeling that I would soon find out. At the same time, the ministrations of Pamela were very soothing, very relaxing. I settled back and enjoyed the feeling of being beautified. Finally, my lips were coated with a lovely shade that Pamela told me was called Creamed Ginger Matte and I felt absolutely gorgeous.
Then Miss Pamela left and Mistress Margot went to the styling table and picked of a jar of scented cocoa butter cream. She sat next to me, slid my panties to my knees, and propped me up on a velvet pillow. Applying the cocoa butter to her fingers, she began to expertly manipulate my penis. I wanted to complain. Who had said that she had the right to do this to me? I belonged to Madame Christina! I said nothing, however, scared of this commanding woman.
She began whispering in my ear. "Darling Cheryl, do you wonder why I am here with you, and Christina is with my niece? You may nod dear. I know that you’re speechless with happiness. Besides? I don't want you to interrupt. Well sweetie, Christina has loaned you to me, because I'm lonely for a pretty sissy in my life, and it would not be proper for me to play games like this with my Danielle. After all, she and I, are related. And you were so delightful that night a few weeks ago that I knew you would be happy with this new arrangement.”
She kissed my neck softly, then continued. “In exchange of course, I have given Danielle to Christina as a companion. So now that you two sissies have been fully beautified, we have decided to take you both to the boutique where you and Danielle will model some pretty gowns.
Now, if you agree that you’re happy to be my little personal sissy, you may spurt your sissy cream. If you don't like our little trade, then you must not ejaculate.
Of course, If you refuse, we'll take you to the U.S consul immediately. You can tell them what a nightmare these past weeks have been. How you have been mistreated. All the little sissy things you have been made to do. We’ll even give you pictures of you sucking on your dildo lollipop – and that camcorder tape of you with the vibrator and dildo? I’m sure that the U.S embassy will be shocked at what we’ve done to you. May even want to prosecute that evil Christina and me? What is your answer my pet?" she asked.
Her voice was very melodious and her soft hands were softly caressing my penis and testicles in a way that was driving me to distraction. My breathing was very labored at this point and I was very excited.
“I think that you want to spurt? Is this true, my sweet little sissy? Want to belong just to me? Say yes – then ask my permission, and I’ll let you have release.”
“Yes mistress, I want to belong to you. And please, may I come?”
“You do know that I can be very cruel? That I get a great deal of pleasure from humiliating and hurting little sissies like you?”
“Yes Mistress Margot. But that’s all right. Please may I come?”
“Of course my dear, pretty little sissy. Here, you may spurt into this little chiffon scarf I have in my hand.”
Although not as strong as the previous ones I had a shuddering climax, minus the tears. After all, I didn't want to mess up my make up. Mistress smiled and said.
"Yes that's lovely my dear, you agreed. How wonderful! Come my lamb. We must put on your gaff, and get you together. We need to see how my nephew – my niece now - has turned out."
Weakly, I laid back in her arms as she put the gaff on me, then allowed my skirts to fall back to their proper position, before leading me back to where Danielle and Madame Christina were.
Danielle’s hair had been unrolled and was now being teased, sprayed, twisted, jelled, bushed, combed, sectioned etc. When Miss Lillian finished she had created a high fashion bouffant do, that was called "The Annette", after the beach movie princess of the 60's.
One side was pinned back to show his now- jeweled ears. The rest was totally Bouffant,, flipped up in back and was identical to the beach movie do's of that period.
Her make up was applied like mine except in darker shades to go with her hair and nails. Her lipstick was called Black Cherry Sherry according to Lillian. Meek now, he allowed himself to be led away to the dressing room. Some minutes later he returned with a much slimmer waist.
Instead of the clothes he had worn earlier, he was now attired like a preppy finishing school princess, with high heeled Mary Janes, white tights, a powder blue gabardine jumper with matching vest, and a high collared blouse with lace cuffs and front. His hair was topped off with a lace white bow in back to match.
Madame Christina linked her arm in his at the same time as my new mistress Madame Margot linked arms with me.
“Time for a visit to the boutique, girls” they said – and laughed in unison as they led us away.
End of Chapter 6
14 comments:
I assisted with the writing of this under the femme name of Priscilla Gay Bouffant. I'm no longer at the above address. I have written under other names since then. Felicia Fussyfrocks and Madame Tessa Mannheim. Anyway it's better here then I recall it. Love the illustration. I'm now at cogen777@aol.com
Ah. I was not certain that email address was still valid, but I decided it was best not to edit anything- even Bea's couple of minor spelling and grammatical errors in the introduction. But I will change the email address. Good job on the story, Priscilla/Felicia/Tessa. I kind of debated with myself over whether I wanted to expend any effort on another illustration due to my recent disillusionment, but this one didn't take up much time anyway; I'm glad you like it.
I love hair salon illos. Also adore illos of elaborate "do's" as you did in Chapter 4 I believe. This chapter seems to have gotten some decent response. Thanks.
Priscilla/Felicia/Lady Tessa.
Thanks to all of you for providing this wonderful, exciting story. I am sorry to see it end but maybe someone out there has a new story to post.
Kammi
Beautiful story!
sissy maid colette.
Some of this gets a bit too ridiculous for my liking, and I guess for a few other readers too. But it's good to have plenty of variety - and lots more stories of all kinds, to keep us all visiting this excellent site.
A casual reader.
All stories with forced feminization are ridiculous to me. But I guess each of us has different ideas on how ridiculous is too ridiculous.
I think that it's been a great story series. The Swiss angle made me think of Swiss banking and what fun the women in this story would have(if they were Swiss bankers)with some rich asshole who's hidden stolen millions and then gets manipulated into transforming while trying to get his money back.
September 26, 2013 at 7:07 AM
Blogger rocketdave said...
All stories with forced feminization are ridiculous to me. But I guess each of us has different ideas on how ridiculous is too ridiculous.
From Priscilla/Felicia/Madame Tessa
That is an interesting comment Rocket. As a writer of Cross dressing fiction I can understand. I don't try and make my stories realistic or believable. They're fantasies. The more outrageous I can make the stories the more fun and erotic they become for me. Anyone looking for realistic content is going to be disappointed with anything I write.
Wow, I finally got through Part 6 and thoroughly enjoyed it! Especially the descriptions of the salon experience. I have always enjoyed the author's "over the top" fantastical writings. And thanks for a wonderful illustration to accompany the text.
I love this story, I would do the same thing tattoo makeup too my boyfriend? Sounds like fun! For me not him! He have a pretty, pretty girl face! " sweet" Gretchen.
Hello all,
I've read Bea's and Pricilla's tale 'Swiss Miss Sissy' and it is probably my favourite piece of femdom literature. Too bad it was never finished.
However, it captured my imagination, and I wrote a continuation of the story, trying my utmost to do justice to Bea's vivid storytelling and quality. Right now I have over a hundred pages of writing, and more every day as I fill in a storyarc (with I think a satisfactory ending) that I have imagined.
If you like, and if Bea doesn't mind me using her characters, I could leave it with this site and let the you decide it it is suitable for putting it up on the blog. If it is decided I should change aspects, I'm happy to oblige.
I hope you are just as interested in seeing what I wrote as i am writing it.
Cheers.
....oooh....just adore this chapter....its so onderfully exciting and have read it many times and adore imagining being one of the pathetic pansy characters ..its the ultimate sissy wish fulfilment fantasy...no surprise the legendary Priscilla Gay Bouffant was involved in it...
Am loving this story. Please keep it up.
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