Another Pink Xmas

It's been so long since I've posted anything, I almost forgot how to do it.  This is not a new drawing; I did it almost a year ago, not quite in time for Christmas of 2016, but here it is now.  I can't think of anything else to say about it.

Manhattan Marriage

Didn’t realise it’s been so long since I posted something. It’s coming up to Bea’s second anniversary on Christmas Day and he would not be pleased. I thought I had better post something before I get a visit from the Ghost of Christmas Past.

I did not have time to write something new so this will have to do, I posted this elsewhere so some readers may have read it before.

The story is not based in the present but in a more elegant period somewhere between the 30’s and 50’s.

Have a good and safe Christmas.

Carrie 

A Manhattan Marriage

By

CarrieP

 The tears came. At first these came as short bursts of sobbing which then quickly progressed to more prolonged weeping. 

 It had been a particularly trying afternoon for William but then again this was now true of every afternoon or to be more precise it was true of every day.

No man should have to go through this torture he said to himself as he dried his eyes avoiding the mirror as he did so although he knew this was ridiculous as he would eventually have to fix his make-up. He finally composed himself and tried to gather his thoughts.

Of course I know I shoulder some responsibility for this dreadful situation. I was far too naive, mesmerised by the glamour and glitter of Sophia’s wealth and position. Yes I was too gullible, he continued to berate himself as he looked down at the full length housecoat of the softest velvet in a most delicate shade of peach and felt another sob rise from within. So foolish, so stupid how could I have been such an idiot.

 These were the thoughts that ran through his head as he looked around the large bathroom of his mother in law’s spacious and elegantly appointed Manhattan apartment. This outpouring of frustration and emotion had become a daily occurrence and like every other aspect of his recent life it seemed powerless to control. Much as he hated to admit it this utter lack emotional control was a particularly feminine quality and one he seemed to be incapable of subduing.

It all happened so fast but how did I allow it get to this stage? he said quietly as he finally plucked up the courage to look at himself in the mirror and recalled the early days of his relationship with mother and daughter.

The van Horne’s were an old and extremely wealthy New York family and mesmerised not only by this wealth but also the social influence of Sophia and her mother he was flattered when he received an invitation to dine with them. He was smitten from the very start and although he felt Mrs van Horne was a little bit overbearing he reasoned this was from the perspective of protecting her daughter from gold diggers and this he thought entirely reasonable. In the subsequent weeks, seduced by their gilded lifestyle, he was inexorably drawn into their orbit. Soon all three became inseparable and it was not long before he was invited to stay with them on a permanent basis. Their luxurious apartment in Manhattan and their large house in the Hamptons made it impossible to refuse and he quickly became used to their opulent way of life. From the beginning Mrs van Horne was very generous to their new companion, fussing over him and lavishing him with expensive gifts as well as opening accounts in the most exclusive stores. He often wondered how he lived without such luxury and not only that but he now had the added bonus of having an attractive woman as a girlfriend. It didn’t take too long before Sophia’s mother made it known that she would welcome him as a son-in-law and also made it abundantly clear he would benefit greatly from a union with her daughter.

It was only now dressed as he was that he realised he should have been more circumspect in this new relationship when he remembered what Mrs van Horne said on one occasion. 

“He is such a darling boy Sophia, not a bit macho or aggressive like those other men you have dated.... and those high cheek bones and delicate features.... there are quite..... ”

She paused for moment before exclaiming,

“Feminine. It’s almost as if..... ”

“Mother!”  Sophia said brusquely cutting off her mother, giving her a glare for good measure” You’re embarrassing William.”

“Oh I don’t mean to, you’re not embarrassed are you darling?” her mother replied calmly as she acknowledged her daughter s interruption by stroking his face gently.

He was extremely disconcerted by her remarks but was too flustered to say anything. Mrs van Horne continued,

 “ and.....  he has such wonderful possibilities.”

Those words should have woken me up. he said to himself bitterly.

 The wedding was hastily arranged and was an extremely low key affair just the three of them and a city hall official as Sophia had to leave for Europe on a prearranged trip for the cultural foundation which the family’s wealth funded. A pathological fear of boats prevented William from accompanying his new bride although looking back on it now he wasn’t sure if he was even asked.

“This is most irregular, a husband should always be at his wife’s side. Seasickness is an extremely poor excuse for not escorting my daughter abroad.” she snorted indignantly when he told her of his phobia and only Sophia’s reasoned argument that she would be unable to concentrate on her mission if she also had to look after him eventually calmed her mother.

“Think of it as a quid pro quo Mother.” Sophia said on the dock as she boarded the liner.

“What!” her mother replied sharply.

“Well you’re not losing a daughter you are gaining a son.” Sophia answered.

“Mmm...Quid pro quo, you say.” her mother repeated in a thoughtful voice.

“Perhaps it’s all for the best.” Sophia said to William as she kissed him gently on the cheek “Mummy will need the company when I’m gone and there is so much to arrange for the wedding reception on my return, I’m sure you will be a great help and comfort to her.”

“Don’t worry Sophia.” her mother assured her daughter, William could see her demeanour had changed considerably.“I will take very good care of him as I always do. Isn’t that right William?”

“Yes of course Mrs van Horne.” he answered a little nervously.

“Oh come now, no need to be so formal dear boy, we are family now.” his mother in law said as she slipped her arm under his and drew him close, so close that he could feel the wiring in her large brassiere.”You really must address me as Mummy. That will be part of our quid pro quo, don’t you agree?”

He did not answer but she pulled him sharply to her and arched her eyes in an inquisitorial manner. A reply was expected – the correct reply. He felt extremely uneasy but did not want to cause an argument just as Sophia was leaving.

“Yes ...Mummy.” he said softly.

“Wonderful. I’m so relieved you two are not arguing. ” Sophia chirped as she kissed her mother and climbed the gangway.

“Quid pro quo, dear boy, quid pro quo.” his mother in law said as she led him away.

****************************

 “I thought I should remind you...........” a voice interrupted his recollections. Anna his mother in law’s loyal and trusted maid  appeared, a smile forming at the corner of her mouth, her eyes scornfully scanning the figure in a lady’s housecoat, before belatedly  adding in a tone dripping with mockery “....Sir. Miss Sophia will be telephoning from Paris very shortly.”

He winced at the glaringly obvious expression of ridicule in her voice. Only a few days ago he would berate her, a mere maid, for such insolence but now dressed as he was and knowing that she would report any such outburst to her mistress he knew it was best to ignore her scornful manner and try to maintain some semblance of dignity.

“Thank you Anna” he said trying to sound as authoritative as a man could to whilst wearing his wife’s clothes.

“Would...sir....like some help with his make-up?” the maid asked as she entered the bathroom and unnecessarily rearranged the already neatly folded towels. “Madam will be home shortly and I’m sure she will wonder how your make-up became so smudged.  She went to so much trouble applying it this morning I really think she will not be pleased to find your face in such a state.”

He looked in the mirror and saw she was right, his tears had cause his mascara to run and the tissues he used to dry them had ruined his immaculately made-up face and through the blotches he could see his faint masculine characteristics trying to emerge. His mother in had warned him on several occasions to ensure his make-up was always kept in perfect condition and he knew she would not be pleased to find his face in such disarray. Such was his anxiety about displeasing her he quickly agreed to the maid’s suggestion.

“Yes.... I suppose you are right.” he reluctantly conceded.

The maid smiled as she stood to one side and silently gestured he return to the bedroom and without having to be told he walked to the dressing table holding up the long housecoat so he would not trip.

“As sir will have to dress shortly I think it would save time if you removed your housecoat before I retouch your make-up.” Anna said.

He could not see the point of this request but the last few days dressed as a woman had destroyed his confidence and without questioning her he timidly complied. He unbuttoned the housecoat and she took it from him and placed it in on the bed.

“Is that Madam’s new Dior corselette?” she said as she ran her hands over the heavy black satin material stretched tightly over his buttocks.

His embarrassment and vulnerability prevented him from answering, he could only nod his confirmation. Anna continued “it really gives you such a wonderfully feminine figure but ... if sir will permit me... I think your straps need a little adjustment.”

He remained silent as she turned him around, he could feel her warm breath on his neck and her groin pressing hard into his plump behind as she altered the corselette’s brassiere straps to her satisfaction and then gently stroked his arms. It took him a few seconds to break free of the tight hold she had of him, Anna merely smiled at his feeble attempt to shake off her grip, she finally let him go and he quickly moved to the dressing table.

 “I hope you don’t mind me saying ...sir” she said as she applied the cream to his face “you have such fine features, high cheek bones, full lips, expressive eyes and long lashes. And Madam’s hairdresser told me your hair was a pleasure to work with....that perm really suits you and it only took two hours under the dryer. Maybe next time she will bring you to the salon and you can have your nails done at the same time. ”

He visibly winced but remained silent, this could not possibly be true. He had already done everything Sophia’s mother asked – and more so there was no reason for him to continue to wear women’s clothing.  Anna was so loyal to her mistress he did not want to say what he really felt because he knew this would be immediately reported back and would only antagonise his mother in law. He remained impassive hoping she would discontinue this line of conversation but his reticence only enthused her.

“I mean .. ” she said as she now applied a smokey shade of eye-shadow “...it must make it so much easier for you.” He was afraid to ask what she meant and held his tongue but it didn’t matter as she clearly considered it a rhetorical question. She noticed his reluctance to engage in the conversation and persisted in the one sided exchange.

“Now that you have had a few days wearing such beautiful clothes you probably feel more comfortable in skirts and dresses, and Madam’s gorgeous corselette gives you such a womanly figure you probably will not want to return to wearing men’s boring clothes.  She told me you have been such a great comfort and support to her while Miss Sophia is away she has purchased an entire wardrobe especially for you. She really has such excellent taste in clothes, wait until you see what she has bought for you. You will look simply stunning.”

He could not believe his ears, this was some cruel joke on Anna’s part.

“W..what!”  he almost screamed.

The sound of the phone rang in the bedroom.

“Excuse me sir.” She said unfazed by his outburst and left him with his mouth open “that will probably be Miss Sophia.”

“No, this can’t be true.” he said out loud “I’ve done everything she asked.”He was still trying to process what Anna had said as the maid returned.

“Miss Sophia is on the line from Paris....sir” she said.

At last he said to himself as he gathered the heavy skirts of his housecoat and rushed to the bedroom. Once Sophia hears what I have done to indulge her mother’s wishes she will soon put a stop to this nonsense.

“Hello darling.” Sophia’s husky voice crackled down the phone line “The voyage was quite pleasant, no bad weather and we arrived on schedule. Paris is wonderful, we really must come here on our honeymoon, you and Mother will absolutely love it. She sent me a telegram telling me how marvellous you have been, she is so impressed with you.”

“Oh Sophia...”he interrupted her, his voice almost breaking with emotion “it’s dreadful your mother has kept me in your clothes since the day after you sailed.”

“Calm down darling, don’t get too hysterical.” Sophia said in an unruffled tone “Yes dear, she telephoned me earlier but just as she was about to explain the line broke down, she said something about my wedding gown.”

“Yes..yes.. that’s how it started.” he blurted “your dressmaker wasn’t aware you had left for Europe and arrived the morning after you sailed with several bridal gowns that you wished to try on before deciding which one you preferred. Your mother said she would like to see them modelled before choosing one.”

“Oh that’s right, I trust Mother’s judgement completely she has such wonderful instincts when it comes to these things. She is a ........” his wife said but did not get to finish the sentence .

“She said that as you and I were almost a similar build … and I should.....” he interrupted her, his voice began to quiver and he stifled a tear “...wear them for her. I refused but she and the dressmaker insisted saying time was of the essence and they really must see the gowns modelled before you returned.”

He could no longer hold back the tears and he began weep.

“Your... mother and Anna......”he sobbed “practically ....forced me into one of the gowns”

“Oh darling ...such a brave boy.” she said encouragingly “I know we are a similar build but you are a little bigger than me particularly around the torso....how did...?”

“They.... made me wear...... “he snivelled “....one of your mother corselettes.”

“One of her black Dior ones I suppose or perhaps it was the new Spirella with back lacing?” Sophia asked in a strangely calm tone.

“The Spirella.”he replied “it was horrible they laced me in so tightly, can you telephone her and tell her....”

“Are you still wearing it?” she interrupted him and brushed aside his request.

“No.... she put me in her Dior corselette today, said it would be more comfortable” he answered distractedly then desperately tried to persist with his request he  blurted  “but can you.....”

“Oh that’s better.” she said continuing to ignore his pleading “her Dior is certainly tight and figure reducing but it is more comfortable than the new Spirella. I hated it when she insisted I wear it, it is so constrictive but it does give one a glorious shape, don’t you think?”

This talk of the merits of women’s foundation garments was making him quite agitated.

“Please darling” he began to insist “can you telephone her she wants to keep me in women’s clothes until you return. It is just awful and most humiliating.”

“William I asked you a question.” Sophia said an annoyed tone in her voice.

The last thing he wanted was to make her angry.

“I… suppose so…” he was forced to reply

“Yes they do give a girl a wonderful shape” Sophia said in a reassuring voice, before adding “Darling I know it’s difficult but try to stay calm.You must understand Mother and I are rarely separated, being an only child she and I have an extremely strong bond. Now that you have married me she considers you even closer than a blood relation,  she views you as the second child she never had. Of course the fact that we have- through sheer luck- similar facial features only strengthened this intense emotional connection and when she saw you in the bridal gown she probably saw me. You must know just how emotional mothers get when they see their daughters in bridal gowns.”

“But...”William tried to interrupt but Sophia ignored him and continued,

 “She was terribly upset when she found out I had to leave for Europe and I know she berated you for not coming but deep inside she was glad, your presence meant I was still with her and she took great comfort in that. In our brief conversation she said she could not manage without your phenomenal help and support.”

“But I can be of comfort and support to her without ...without...dressing in your clothes.” he appealed “it is so humiliating having to wear skirts and blouses. She even insists I wear make-up.”

“Of course she does. Every woman wears make-up and I’m sure it makes you more presentable otherwise you would probably look too masculine. ” his wife answered “please darling ....for my sake just indulge her for the time being. I know this is difficult for you darling but you have been absolutely wonderful so far. It’s only for another week or so and it would break her heart if you did stop now. It means so very much to Mother.”

“But ...I...” he began to protest.

Sophia quickly interjected.

 “Don’t forget ......she is extremely generous and you will find you will be greatly rewarded for your kindness.”

“But darling..” he said and suddenly heard a hissing on the line, hitting the cradle with his fingers he frantically exclaimed  “hello  ....hello   Sophia are you there....”

The line went dead.

************************************

 “Good afternoon Madam, shall I take your coat also?” Anna said as she took her mistress’s stole.

“No Anna, I am not staying long I have a meeting with my ladies club. They are simply dying to meet my son-in-law.” Mrs van Horne replied checking her appearance in the hall mirror before turning back to her maid “and how is our protégé progressing?”

“He is a little upset again Madam, he keeps fidgeting with the straps of his corselette, tugging at his garters and I have to remind him to keep his heels on at all times.” Anna answered “I’m afraid he still has not come to terms with his ....his...”

“Feminisation?”  Mrs van Horne said “I believe that is the correct term. He is such a darling boy, obviously does not realise he is far too pretty to strut about in pants like most men. Good heavens with skin like porcelain, small waist and those delicate features when he wears pants he looks more like Katherine Hepburn than Humphrey Bogart and the sooner he realises that the better.  He looks so much better in skirts and so much like Sophia, it’s almost like she never left.”

“ Yes Madam, he does seem to lack rugged masculine qualities.” Anna agreed “and  the ...ahem...the .. er.. ...protuberance in his chest area certainly does give him a slightly feminine silhouette.”

“Yes those two small but wonderfully distinct feminine mounds are apparently why he wears – or used to wear- loose fitting shirts.”Mrs van Horne said as she refreshed her lipstick in the mirror “All the more reason he should be wearing a proper brassiere. Don’t you agree Anna?”

“Of course Madam.” her maid concurred “In fact I have noticed his posture has improved since he has been wearing one. And if I may say so Madam, he does have quite shapely legs.....for a man.”

“Yes he does, doesn’t he? And those grey seamed stocking are perfect on him.” Mrs van Horne agreed “And his attitude has improved greatly, he wasn’t as compliant when I first met him, however as he gradually came under my influence and I established my authority over him his manner changed considerably.  It was quite subtle at first of course, he didn’t even know it had happened but after a day or two I knew he would make the perfect male companion for me and an ideal husband for Miss Sophia. You see Anna, society ladies like myself and Miss Sophia require only the outward or superficial presence of a male, but as you know very well, that is exactly what it is – a charade. Males are in fact mere window dressing- trophy husbands for ladies like us. Of course the best way to ensure they do not get ideas about any macho behaviour is to gradually dress them in pretty feminine clothes. This engenders those wonderful qualities of obedience and submissiveness in the male thus making him – as I have said - the perfect companion and husband.”

“I think there is no doubt he will make Madam a most suitable companion.”Anna said “but he does seem a little agitated at the moment. He was crying in the bathroom earlier.”

“Oh that is a good sign Anna.” Mrs van Horne chirped a broad smile spreading across her face “it means he is coming to terms with his new circumstances, albeit reluctantly. It may also mean he has a more feminine streak in him than we thought, after all what kind of man is so easily persuaded into wearing a bridal gown and then his wife’s trousseau.”

“Yes Madam it was wonderful to see his masculinity fade under your persuasive arguments.” Anna said “I just wish Miss Sophia was here to see it.”

“Yes but it will be worth it she will have a perfectly trained wife when she returns in a few weeks.” Mrs van Horne replied. “Now go fetch the dear boy I think he may need some reassurance and his poor masculine ego may need a little massaging.”

***************************

“Ah, there you are ......my beautiful  son-in law.” Mrs van Horne gushed as William perched on his four inch heels minced his way into the drawing room.

“Oh Mrs van.....”he bleated.

“Now, now William.” she gently chided him “I thought we agreed how you should address me. And while you are at it do so in the correct manner that befits ladies of your social standing.”

The young man stopped and hesitated, he could feel another layer of embarrassment envelop him but he knew he would have to comply with her wishes otherwise there would be a prolonged conversation which he would lose anyway. He swallowed hard and saw Anna, who had positioned herself behind her mistress, smile triumphantly. He hated this form of address as much as he hated his new clothes.

“Good afternoon .......Mummy.” he said quietly.

“Can you speak up William, you are not a schoolgirl meeting the headmistress.” his mother –in-law rebuked him.

“Good afternoon ....Mummy.” he repeated in a louder but still meek voice.

“Much better.” Mrs van Horne said approvingly, her voice more gentle now. “Now come and greet me the way we agreed, in a more affectionate manner.”

Hours spent in high heels under Anna’s supervision now became second nature and he moved across the room in a distinctively womanly gait and embraced his mother-in –law, kissing her on the cheek in an unmistakably feminine fashion.

“Now tell Mummy what exactly is upsetting you?”Mrs van Horne asked in her most soothing voice.

“It’s just that.... well....”he said haltingly almost afraid to say the words “....these clothes, Sophia’s clothes....it’s just ....not right ... I mean I should have my....”

“Ah yes my darling I think I understand.” his mother-in- law gently interrupted his babbling “you feel you should have your own clothes to wear.”

“Exactly!” he blurted and   now that he could see she was in good humour, he thought it a good idea to add ingratiate himself to her........“Mummy.”

He could see she was thinking over the idea and he decided to press his case.

“You see Mummy I think I have worn Sophia’s clothes long enough.” he began tentatively as she settled herself on the couch and listened to him intently “I know you miss Sophia and that is very understandable, she is your only daughter after all and I know you feel closer to her when you see me dressed in her clothes but I’m sure I will still remind you of her if I can wear my own clothes.”

He allowed his mother in law to absorb his argument before continuing.

“I will still be the same person and..” he decided to play what he considered to be his trump card “ like Sophia I will always be devoted to you.”

“Of course you are right dear boy, I should have seen it sooner.”Mrs van Horne said “I suppose it was intolerable of me to ask you to wear Sophia’s clothes. I see my mistake now, how foolish of me and thank you for bringing it to my notice. Of course you should have your own clothes.”

William breathed a sigh of relief. At last she understood.

“Tomorrow we will go to the most exclusive stores in New York and buy you an entire wardrobe of new clothes.” she exclaimed excitedly “you can have anything your heart desires, Chanel skirts, Doucet blouses, Schiaparelli and Dior have the most wonderful ball gowns this season. And of course we simply must get you your own lingerie and foundation wear. Sophia and I always go shopping together but I never thought I would be able to do this with you.”

Suddenly he felt a lightness in his head and his legs became weak, he began to tremble at the knees. His mouth opened but no words came out.

“Oh this is the most wonderful news.” his mother-in-law exclaimed in a most excited voice and she stood up and embraced her speechless son-in-law, “and if we have enough time we can get you a new hair-do, oh..yes... and of course your nails, maybe even get your ears pierced.  There is so much to be done, isn’t this thrilling? Oh dear you look pale.... is it all the excitement?”

“I....I.....I think..... I need to sit down.” he spluttered.

Intervention

Dear Readers,

This story was meant as another of my 'scenes from family life' series, where lots of family members witness the feminization of one of the members, and even get feminized themselves in the course of the story. However, as I realize that father-son feminzation stories do not blow everyone's skirt up, I re-wrote the story to a more conventional setting. Beside the feminization itself, I wanted to explore the feeling of being trapped in the good intentions of someone who just wants what's best for everyone.
I present both versions, so that you can pick the one you like. Or, better yet, read both and tell me which one you like best.

Hope you like it!

Kindly,

Rosie.

Relative Interference - A (Very) Short Story - and illustration

 I haven’t contributed to the blog for quite some time – a bit shamefaced about that as Dave and Rosie have been keeping it going between them.

This is a very short story I’ve posted elsewhere so some readers will have read it before.

It’s a small contribution but hopefully readers will enjoy it.

Carrie 

Relative Interference.

By

CarrieP

“I’m afraid I have some bad news William.” Mrs Sophia Dearlove addressed the young man in front of her and patting the seat next to her on the couch added “please sit down.”

The young man immediately knew there was something seriously wrong as he had never before been invited to sit in his employer’s presence.  He looked nervously at Miss Grayson the housekeeper and his immediate superior before taking such a liberty, sitting down in Mrs Dearlove’s company would be deemed quite a serious faux pas for a member of the domestic staff. However Miss Grayson nodded her approval but given his position in the household he was still reluctant to do so.

 “It’s quite all right William.” the housekeeper reassured him “you may sit next to the mistress.” 

It had now been several months since Mrs Dearlove had first met him at the orphanage where he had spent the previous six years. She was attending a charity event and afterwards as he had served her and her glamorous female companions’ coffee she had engaged him in conversation. He clearly remembered how he blushed when she remarked how delicate and feminine his features were, an opinion that was endorsed enthusiastically by her friends. Miss Parker the orphanage’s matron noticed the group of women talking to the young man and joined them. Mrs Dearlove quickly established that the young man would remain in the orphanage’s care for another two years, something the boy was deeply unhappy about as Miss Parker was a petty tyrant and now that his education had come to an end she was using him as unpaid labour. He recalled how his heart raced as Mrs Dearlove asked if he would be interested in a position in her household.  Given Mrs Dearlove‘s power and influence with the orphanage’s Board of Directors Miss Parker had to agree when William quickly agreed to her offer. The position was as a houseboy and despite some initial apprehension by the exclusively female domestic staff he had been treated reasonably well as the sole male.  The work wasn’t too hard and Miss Grayson the housekeeper was far kinder than Miss Parker, apart from a few misdemeanours for which he had received a mild punishment he had been very happy. Until now.

With all this coursing through his mind it was with a great degree of nervousness that William crossed the deeply carpeted floor to join Mrs Dearlove on the couch.

“William, my mother will be staying with me for a few months and ....”Mrs Dearlove said softly, almost apologetically “...well....she has some unusual ideas regarding male domestic servants.”

William looked at his employer with a quizzical look, Mrs Dearlove took a sip of her tea then continued,

“You see she has had several bad experiences in the past with butlers, footmen etc. and will not employ a male servant. Such is her aversion that she will not even stay in a house that has a male servant. So you see my dilemma.....unfortunately I will have to send you back to the orphanage.”

“Oh Madam ...please not that.” the young man pleaded.

“I’m so sorry William but there is very little I can do about it.” she answered sympathetically.

“Please Madam.” he implored now almost on the verge of tears at the prospect of being returned to the orphanage, “I’ll keep out of her way, stay in the kitchen, the garden...anything.”

“I’m afraid that would not make any difference.” she replied in a regretful voice.

“Please...Madam....”he was begging now and slipped off the couch onto his knees.

Miss Grayson bent down and whispered in her mistress’s ear.

“Oh I don’t think the boy would agree to..... that Miss Grayson.” Mrs Dearlove answered her housekeeper, “But...” she hesitated “... with his features, those wonderful high cheekbones and those beautiful long eyelashes perhaps he would  pass.”

William sensed   there was a suggestion of a lifeline, he would grasp at any straw that was offered as the very thought of being returned to the orphanage was enough to make him weep. Anything would be better than that.

“Stand up dear boy.” Mrs Dearlove said and rising to his feet both women examined him closely “yes...yes.. if mother is any way reasonable I think it may be a solution.”

“Turn around William.” Miss Grayson ordered and he quickly complied “Yes Madam he certainly has possibilities and I’m sure if he was given some intensive training perhaps Madam’s mother would be willing to consider the idea.”

William didn’t know what they were talking about but felt that whatever it was there was no doubt Mrs Dearlove seemed very enthusiastic and positive, even Miss Grayson seemed more animated than usual. He sensed there may be some hope of resolving the issue and while they were engaged in their conversation William considered his own situation. There were many advantages to working for Mrs Dearlove, he was treated much better and life in this house was easier than the orphanage, the food was also better and there were fewer restrictions. Of course he was still a servant but at least his uniform of a white jacket and black trousers appeared more casual than that of a maid’s uniform. In this outfit he imagined he could have been mistaken as a visitor to the house but no one could mistake a female servant as there was a strict uniform code for Mrs Dearlove’s female servants , blue or grey dresses in the morning and a black one in the afternoon  with the regulation white apron and cap of course.

“William!”  are you listening?”  Mrs Dearlove said in an exasperated voice, interrupting his thoughts. He looked at her blankly.

“Miss Grayson believes there may be a solution to our little problem.”Mrs Dearlove informed him as she looked at her housekeeper “ a trifle unusual but my mother may agree.”

“That’s wonderful.” William blurted, barely containing his excitement “what is it?”

“As my mother’s objection is to male domestics, you will be dressed as a housemaid.” Mrs Dearlove exclaimed, clasping her hands to her bosom with excitement and smiling at him expectantly. “you have such delicate.... almost feminine facial characteristics, a little make-up and a light colour lipstick would work wonders.”

“And with the correct foundation garments your figure would be transformed into a more girlish figure.” Miss Grayson beamed, delighted with her solution.

William thought he was hearing things.

“A housemaid?” he repeated incredulously.

“Yes, yes” Mrs Dearlove declared in an exhilarated voice “Isn’t it a wonderful idea? Mother could not possibly object.”

“I would have to dress as a....a... housemaid? A... girl?” he asked still unsure that he had heard her correctly.

“Yes of course, it’s the only way we could keep you here.” Mrs Dearlove replied her voice now losing patience with his questions.

“Well.....I.....it’s just that...a housemaid....”he stammered not knowing how to respond to such an outrageous suggestion.

“Yes it is unusual I suppose.” Mrs Dearlove said “but there is no alternative I’m afraid. I suppose it was too much to ask but I really thought you were happy here but I do understand it is not every day you are asked to dress as a girl. Such a pity I think you would have been a great addition to the staff. But it is your decision.”

So many thoughts were running through his head and he barely noticed Mrs Dearlove had retreated to the couch looking extremely disappointed.

“While you are packing Miss Grayson will call a cab to take you back to the orphanage.”

Those last two words sent a shiver down his spine, Miss Parker the matron would view his return from such a prestigious establishment as Mrs Dearlove’s  as a personal insult and he knew she would make his life miserable.

“I...I...”he spluttered

“Yes?” Mrs Dearlove said.

“I.. didn’t mean to... be disrespectful Madam.” he babbled as he struggled for the words.

“Yes?” Mrs Dearlove repeated her eyebrows arching ever so slightly.

“I mean I would like to stay.” he finally blurted.

“As a housemaid?” she said as she elegantly crossed her legs and fixing him with her large grey eyes added, “ and....wearing the appropriate uniform?”

He looked at Miss Grayson who still held the telephone in her hands and felt anything would be better than returning in disgrace to Miss Parker.

“Yes Madam.” he mumbled.

“Please speak up boy I can barely hear you.” she said and he could hear the irritation in her voice, the last thing he wanted was to get her angry.

“Yes Madam I would like to stay .....as.....your... housemaid and I will wear the appropriate uniform.” he blurted and as the words left his mouth he could feel a wave of shame wash over him.

“Excellent, Mother will be here soon so we had better get you into your new uniform. Miss Grayson,will you locate something in his size and meet me in my bedroom.”

William was still in a fog at what he had just agreed to and mindlessly followed Mrs Dearlove up the staircase to her room. In the months he had been in her service he had never been in Madam’s bedroom as Miss Grayson felt it would not be proper to have a male enter the mistress’s bedroom.

“Stand by the bed.” she instructed him as she went to the mahogany tallboy “and take off your clothes.”

As he began to slowly remove his shoes Miss Grayson entered with various items in her arms.

“Oh do hurry William Madam’s mother will be here shortly and we don’t want her to find we have a male servant in the house.” she said in an urgent voice and turning to Mrs Dearlove said “I think these will fit him Madam, they are your former lady’s maid’s uniform, although they may be a little bit tight.”

“I’m sure once he is in this his new uniform will fit wonderfully.” she said returning to the bed and held up a long pale blue satin corset with long laces dangling from its eyelets.

William by this time had stripped to his shorts and gasped as she held it up to his torso, the full implication of agreeing to her proposal was finally beginning to emerge in all its horrible reality.

A corset I have to wear a corset he cried to himself.

“Yes dear boy” she said noticing the shocked expression on his face “I’m afraid wearing restrictive corsetry is among one of the many sacrifices we ladies have to make to make ourselves presentable.......and now as part of your new life you too will endure a similar experience.  It may seem like torture at first but wearing such a garment has wonderful benefits, enhancing ones figure and promoting excellent posture for a girl. There is also a very practical reason for wearing the corset, to get into your new uniform you will need a little help to shape your body. And this is the very thing that will achieve the perfect shape.”

The boy felt a surge of terror rising up from within but despite this he knew he had to tread carefully to avoid arousing her ire.

“How long will I have to dress as a maid Madam?” he asked as diplomatically as he could.

“Oh only for mother’s visit, then you can revert to your normal uniform.” she answered absentmindedly as she untangled the corset’s laces.

Well, I suppose it could be worse. he thought, consoling himself that his humiliation would not last long.

“A few months at the most.” she added as she unravelled the last knot

A few months!  The words shook him now realising he would have to dress like this for such a lengthy duration.

 “Your shorts.” Miss Grayson snapped, indicating him to remove them and handed him a satin dressing gown.

“But..I ...you can’t mean.” he spluttered.

“I am quickly running out of patience, or would you prefer me to do it.” Miss Grayson said in a tone that left no room for any misunderstanding of her intentions.

After putting on the dressing gown he quickly slipped down his shorts, Miss Grayson held up a white satin panelled long legged girdle against the dressing gown trying to judge his size.

“This should fit.” she said and abruptly handed it to him, he looked at her blankly.

“What are you waiting for?” Miss Grayson said, a slight irritation in her voice as she commanded him “put it on....now.”

He turned his back to the women and under cover of his dressing gown he stepped into the heavy garment, struggling to pull it up.

“Oh dear there’s one of those horrible male bulges Miss Grayson.” Mrs Dearlove sighed pointing to the offending bump between his legs.

“Oh I’m sure I can fix that.” her housekeeper answered and without warning she grabbed the top of the boy’s new girdle and to his astonishment pulled it down leaving his totally exposed, paralysed with a mixture of shame and fear.

 “As I suspected..... nothing too large.” she said in a contemptuous tone as she viewed his flaccid penis before snapping “Open your legs boy.”

Stunned, he silently and meekly obeyed her instruction and in an instant she had pulled his member down and tucked it tightly between his legs.

“Now close them tightly and pull up your girdle.” she ordered, he looked down and saw there was practically no male bulge, any sign of his manhood had disappeared.

“Much better Miss Grayson” Mrs Dearlove said as she ran her hands over the now smooth and even satin material and slipped it between his legs and letting her hand linger momentarily she gently rubbed his hidden bulge which caused him to emit a slight groan. She ignored this and turned her head to Miss Grayson and added  “I would hate to have any unsightly lumps in case Mother wishes to inspect him.”

“Perfectly understandable Madam.” Miss Grayson replied.

She released him and nodded to her housekeeper, “Carry on Miss Grayson.”

 Mrs Dearlove watched as Miss Grayson sat him at the dressing table and showed him how to roll up stockings and attach them to the girdle’s garters and after he had finished she marched him back to her mistress who wrapped the corset around him and  as she tugged at the laces he felt his torso compress causing him to gasp.

“Yes it does have that effect, hold on to the bed post.” Mrs Dearlove said as she waited for him to grab hold of the bed post before resuming her task, he groaned once more as she tightened the stays.

“Oh don’t be such a baby.” Miss Grayson said sharply.

“Do you know William...” Mrs Dearlove said as she gave a final jerk to the laces “this is my mother’s corset, she gave it to me when I was about your age and was going through a tomboy phase. She insisted I wore it day and night for weeks, she said it would instil a more feminine attitude in me.”

She knotted the laces tightly, turned him around and inspected her handiwork before running her hands over the nipped in waist of her skirt and said

“And as you can see it really did work. There is nothing like a good corset to enhance one’s femininity.”

“Now my darling boy, how many petticoats would you like to wear?” she said.

“Petticoats?” he answered still trying to recover his breath.

“Yes I really want you to look your best when Mother arrives.” she said enthusiastically as Miss Grayson arranged several items on the bed.

“I... don’t  ... I mean  I...”he stammered barely comprehending what was happening.

“Yes..petticoats.” Mrs Dearlove explained as if talking to a child “you really will have to look as feminine as possible if you are to convince my mother  your intentions are honourable.

“I think Madeline always wore four under this particular uniform, Madam” Miss Grayson helpfully pointed out to her mistress referring to Mrs Dearlove previous lady’s maid.

“Yes, dear Madeline” Mrs Dearlove sighed at the mention of the name and turning to William said “an excellent lady’s maid I trained her myself...to a very high standard.”

William had heard the servants speak of Madeline and how glamorous she always looked and how obedient she behaved.

“Is four acceptable to you William?” Mrs Dearlove asked the bewildered boy who now unable to speak merely nodded. “Excellent , I think the silk and taffeta ones Miss Grayson, the ones with the deep frilled hems.”

In a daze he felt the soft fabric being pulled up his stockinged legs and watched them as they settled the petticoats over his now uncomfortably reduced waist, in a matter of moments they had slipped the heavy duchesse satin black uniform dress over his head and carefully arranged the skirt over his petticoats. Mrs Dearlove pulled back his longish fair hair into a knot at the back securing it with hairpins and placed a frilled lace cap on his head to which she attached more pins to keep it in place. Meanwhile Miss Grayson was busy slipping his arms into a starched white frilled apron which she tied in an ornate bow at the back. The youth was still quite disorientated as Miss Grayson applied some light make up foundation to his face.

“Pucker your lips William.” she instructed, meekly he obeyed as she covered his lips in a delicate shade of pink lipstick, both women stood back to view the result of their labours.

“Madam should really change as I believe your mother is due to arrive in a few hours.

“Oh! is that the time?” Mrs Dearlove said glancing at the clock “Yes I suppose I’d better change. Something conservative I think, you know how Mother is Miss Grayson.”

“Yes Madam.” The housekeeper said deferentially. “Perhaps the grey silk shantung and the pearls Madam’s mother sent from India?”

“Excellent suggestion!” Mrs Dearlove said “you fetch it and the boy can begin undressing me.”

As they were speaking William caught a glimpse of himself in the large ornate dressing mirror, it took several seconds for him to realise that he was the feminine figure in the formal maid’s uniform staring back. Still not quite believing his eyes he moved his body ever so slightly and the petticoats peeking out from under the dress of the girl in the mirror swayed. He was horrified at the sight but at the same time could not take his eyes away from it. So mesmerised by the reflection he did not notice that both women had stopped talking.

“I see your new maid is quite taken with her new uniform Madam.” Miss Grayson laughed.

“Yes he does seem to like it.” Mrs Dearlove agreed as she and Miss Grayson approached him, “I find that pretty boys are no different from girls Miss Grayson. Put them in a delightful dress and they behave just like a girl. Isn’t that so William?”

The boy hung his head in shame, this was the most humiliating experience of his short life. Miss Grayson began fussing with the skirt of his uniform.

“You were correct Madam he has made the transition from houseboy to housemaid quite easily.” she said “once he is trained properly he will make a wonderful addition to the staff. Madam’s mother will barely notice.”

“Oh dear just look at the time Mother will be here shortly I’d better hurry. William you may as well begin your duties now, unzip me.”

The boy just stared at her blankly.

“Oh I see your confusion you thought you would be put to work as a house or parlour maid. Well Miss Grayson and I have been discussing that and I think that as you are dressed in a lady’s maid’s uniform you may as well be trained as a lady’s maid. Of course when my friends come for morning coffee or afternoon tea we will have you in attendance, my friends simply adore pretty servant girls. Now do hurry up ....like a good boy.”

She turned her back to him as Miss Grayson busied herself in her mistress’s closet retrieving her change of dress. William in his new three inch heels minced his way across the room and began unzipping her dress. She pulled it down over her breasts and it slid to the floor leaving her standing in her pale blue satin slip. She stepped from the dress and looked at him quizzically.

“Well don’t just stand there.” Mrs Dearlove said as if speaking to a five year old “you are a maid.... pick it up and lay it on the bed, then fetch me a steel grey slip from the tallboy, the third drawer down. Oh dear you really are slow so I will remove my slip this time. Now run along and try to be quick I haven’t all day.

Miss Grayson returned with a beautiful grey silk shantung silk creation and laid it on the bed.

“Yes he is a bit slow Madam.”Miss Grayson said as she helped her mistress with her slip “and rather ungainly but once we get him trained properly I’m sure he will make an excellent servant girl.”

“Yes and hopefully Mother will approve.” Mrs Dearlove said as they both watched her new male maid return with her slip.

“Approve of what exactly my dear!” A voice boomed from the door as its owner looked at the uniformed maid and as she sailed gracefully into the room she added “you never told me you engaged a new lady’s maid....and such a pretty one. Come here girl and let me have a look at you.”

“Mother! How delightful to see you.”

William felt his knees weaken.

Swiss Miss Sissy, Chapter 37

This is the last chapter of Swiss Miss Sissy.  

That is to say, this is the last finished chapter and I'm afraid that it's likely to be the last chapter for some time.  Now that I know Bambi is just busy and not dead, I have a little more hope that Swiss Miss Sissy might be completed someday, but all signs point to it being a long wait.  I hope readers will find this chapter, as I do, a reasonably satisfying place to leave the characters for now.  There are still plot threads left unresolved, but at least there's no big, exasperating cliffhanger.  It's worth noting that this continuation is currently over five times longer than the story Bea originally began.  I'll bet Bea never dreamed his story might eventually be expanded into something novel-length.  I'd say Bambi has earned the right to take as long as he needs to with his writing process and is to be complimented on doing a really bang up job with this story.

by Bambi

Chapter 37: An unexpected party. Cheryl gets to celebrate a special someone’s birthday.

“What took you so long?” Mistress asked sternly.

“Sorry Mutter. Brigitt had made things... difficult.” I heard Martina say. Brigitt drew a face like she had just bit in a lemon.

“Difficult? What does that mean? Wait, don't answer that. I'll talk to Brigitt myself later. Is Cheryl all right?”

“Oh, she is. A bit intimidated, as she should be. But it allowed us to doll her up a bit.”

Ingrid chuckled. “Oh, I'll bet.”

“Ingrid...” Mistress admonished. “Well, where is she?”

“Cheryl, come in dear,” Martina called.

“Showtime,” Brigitt whispered behind me.

I straightened my back, pushed my breasts forward, puckered my lips, put my elbows in my sides and glanced at Brigitt.

She gave me a smile and opened the door for me. With tiny steps I minced into the room. My towering 5 inch heels gently tapped on the carpet as I stepped up to Mistress. My skirt ruffled as I excessively wiggled my hips with each step.

Mistress was sitting in her plush chair. She was wearing a dark blue suit with a loose skirt that fell over her knees, but with a high split at a side that allowed me a quick view of her fabulous thighs. Her jacket had white trimming, that complemented  her beige blouse. She was wearing two distinguished black pumps with moderate heels.

Her appearance was stern, but she couldn't hide the smile that grew on her face as she saw me.

I took my position in front of her so she could get a good look of my outfit. It was reminiscent of a teen's outfit. Separate skirt and pink blouse, but clearly intended for a sissy. My white skirt was not excessively short, but definitely not suitable for a sixteen-year-old. Lace of my panties peeked out from below my petticoats.

My blouse was a cut almost down to my navel, so my boobs peeked out prominently, with mostly just the white bra covering them. Even my white waist corset was visible. Blouse was closed at my tummy, with a broad ribbon tied in a small bow in front, and a large bow on my back. The bra and corset were made from shiny but very uncomfortable leather, I might add. The blouse has short sleeves, but was very puffy at the shoulders. Gloves in the same colour covered everything from the elbow down. Bright white stockings covered my legs, and on my feet were in white patent leather Mary Janes with horrible 5 inch stilettos and ornamental leather bows on top.

Martina had changed my hairdo, since she thought that my maid's haircut was unsuited for this outfit. She had untied and retied my hair, painfully using a brush to break the shapes previously achieved with the lacquer. She had tied it in a puffy ponytail, with curly bangs falling down at the front and sides of my face. With a herculean effort, she had given me a girl’s hairdo that complemented my current 'little sister' appearance. A big pink bow kept my ponytail together. I also wore some subtle jewelry. A bracelet around my right wrist, a chain with zirconia around my left ankle, and a loose shiny necklace around my neck, with a pendant that said 'sissy slave'.   

Glee radiated from Mistress' face. She was clearly very happy with my appearance. Still, she is a Mistress and I'm a sissy, so she hid it with a stern expression. Waiting for me to show the proper gestures of respect.

I did not bob a curtsey. It was expected, I know, but Brigitt and Martina had decided something else was appropriate. Mistress raised her eyebrow in surprise.

“Pretty little sissy...” I started to sing.

Ingrid started to laugh, then clap to the rhythm of my heels. Brigitt and Martina fell in.

I pattered around in front of Mistress, turned my back to her and bent forward, giving her a good look at my panties. “Mincing all about...” I looked over my shoulder, winking at her.

“Here comes your Mistress...” I cupped my hand behind my ear, like I was listening to something.

“And makes you cry out loud...” My hands went to the sides of my cheeks as I put up a hilariously scared face.

“Out come two dildos...” I put my gloved finger against my lips.

“She puts one in your mouth...” I put my finger in, sucking it seductively, tasting the satin of my glove.

 “And when you are nice and quiet...” I lifted my skirt and turned around.

“She'll put one there down south.” I bent forward, showing that I was not wearing a plug right now. Accessible. Then I turned around again, straightened myself, then dropped a deep curtsey, not coming up.

I was looking at the floor, but from the edge of my vision I saw Mistress smiling. Her daughters were chattering in Italian.

She left me in that position, and I felt the strain of my awkward posture. “Stand up, Cheryl.”

I got up, but I didn't assume my regular posture, but a more elaborate and girly one. I was turned about forty-five degrees, so Mistress could see my appearance in profile. I was bent slightly forward, so my bottom pointed upwards while my boobs were aimed forward. My head was turned towards Mistress, lips slightly parted invitingly. It wasn't a relaxed stance, but one I could maintain for some time.

Mistress was silent for quite a while, but her smile never left her face.

“What is your name, dear?” She finally asked.

“My name is Cheryl Rosatunte, Mistress.”

“Not Charles?”

“No Mistress. Charles is a man's name. I'm not a man. I'm a sissy. I love wearing skirts and heels. I want to act completely feminine and submissive. A sissy needs to be fully controlled by a strict Mistress, whose every wish or command she must fulfill.”

I was laying it on thick, I know. But I do not know if it was my strong feelings for Mistress, the fact I still had no sexual release, or that I had just been softened up by hours of inescapable bondage, but right then I meant every single word of it.

Ingrid and Brigitt laughed. Martina chuckled as she whispered something to Madame Directrice. Mistress just smiled, but kept her face stern.

“Cheryl, Esther told us about your... Situation.” The tapped the armrest of her seat. “Quite the change, I must say.”

“Yes Mistress. But I'm very happy I did. I did not need all that male stuff. I just want to mince around in heels and cute dresses. Look all pretty for my Mistress, serve and please her in whatever way she wants.”

“Is that so?” She said, leaning forward, elbows on her knees, hands folded. “Don't you think you are being very selfish, young lady?”

That was a question I did not expect. “Mistress, I do not understand.”

“You changed your name, your whole life, to be my sissy. Not once did you ask me if this is what I would want. This is quite something for me too, my dear. Put a lot of pressure and responsibilities on me. Never wondered if I would not want that? Instead you just went ahead and did it, expecting me to take you in. Do you think that is reasonable? That it is fair?”

I was shocked. She was right! I had followed Madame Directrice's directions, but never did I stop to think if Mistress would go along with the plan. Was Madame Directrice wrong? Did Mistress... not love me? I turned pale.

“No Mistress... I am sorry... I just... I mean...” I could only say. “Please don't make me leave...”

She didn't say anything. Everyone else was silent too. Ingrid stared at her mother. Brigitt was looking at me, concern on her face. Madame Directrice's face was a blank. Fear went through me. I had difficulty keeping my pose.

“Ask me,” she finally said. “Ask your Mistress nicely to be her sissy. Ask me to dress you the most ridiculously frilly outfits, the highest heels. To fill you with plugs and dildos and whatever I can fit in your little hole. Ask me to humiliate, bind you and punish you whenever and where-ever I wish.” She pointed her finger at me. “And Cheryl, ask me as a proper sissy.”

I do not know how I managed, but my stance became even more submissive, more sissy like. I spoke in my most exquisite voice; feminine, but sounding like an air-headed idiot.

“Mistress Christina, please make me your sissy and make me dress in the most frilly outfits that make me weep with humiliation. Please put me in heels that I can barely walk in, that make me mince and patter for Mistress' pleasure. A good sissy loves the feeling of having her sissy hole filled, so please fill me with dildos and plugs to remind me I'm a pretty little sissy. And let me serve you, I'll be your maid, your plaything who you can humiliate and tie up as you please. And if I displease you in any way, I ask you to punish me severely so I can improve myself.” I would regret this, I thought. She would do things to me, things I would loathe, and here I was asking her for it. Begging her for it.

But I didn't care. I wanted her to be my Mistress. If that meant I had to be her submissive, ultra-feminine sissy, then so be it.

She looked me straight in the eyes. “Cheryl, I told you to ask me as a proper sissy.”

I gulped. What did she mean by that? I was dressed as one. I had performed a humiliating song and dance. Curtsied. Asked in my most girly voice. What more did she want?

She smiled, then picked up a small box from the table next to her, put it on her lap. “Cheryl. Do you know what today is?” She asked.

I tried to think, but my mind was blank. “I... I do not know Mistress.”

“Why, today is a birthday. You know whose?”

I was stunned. It certainly wasn't Mistress’, and Brigitt's birthday was not for two more months. Martina's and Ingrid's were even later. I saw that Madame Directrice was smiling.

“Er... Madame Directrice's, Mistress?”

She chuckled. “No silly. Yours! Today is your birthday.” The other women smiled at me.

“Mistress? Today is not...” I started.

“Are you not Cheryl Rosatunte?” she asked sternly.

“I am, Mistress.”

“Then today is your birthday. Esther?” she said as she turned to Madame Directrice.

Madame Directrice took of her glasses as she started talking. “Cheryl, I didn't use Charles' birth date in your documentation. I kept the year, but changed the day and month. Those little details are important when creating a completely new person. Your birth certificate shows that you were born today, twenty years ago.” She smiled. “Today has always been your birthday. And you never even told us, you naughty girl. Why, I had to dig up your Swiss birth certificate just to find out!” 

The women laughed. I felt terribly confused, and that caused even more amusement.

Mistress opened the box, and took out an item. “You know what this is, Cheryl?”

I gulped. “It's my lollipop, Mistress.”

“Indeed. The very same one you took in your mouth the day you first came here. On my birthday. Such a great present you were.”

She put the box away, but pointed the dildo at me.

“On my birthday, I asked you to put it in your mouth, and with that I accepted you as my maid. Now today, on your birthday, I want you to ask me to put it inside your mouth. If you do, I will accept you as Cheryl Rosatunte, my sissy. Permanently. I will be a stern Mistress. Strict. I will put you in outfits that will make you cry with humiliation. I will spank you just to hear the musical clicking of your heels as you try to flee. I will use dildos that make you squeal in agony and delight. And when you can take no more, I will tie you up and do it all over again.” She smiled at me. It was a vicious smile.

I like to think I hesitated. That male pride shouted inside me not to continue, that there was still a way out. Here, now. Just say no.

“Mistress, would you please put my lollipop in my mouth. Please make me your sissy.”

“Come here, birthday girl. You know what to do.” She held up the dildo.

I minced four steps forward, until my mouth was right before the tip. I kept my sissy stance. Legs straight, torso bent forward slightly. Elbows at my sides, wrists limp. I puckered my red lips.

I stuck my tongue out and ran its tip gently along the underside. Next I closed my red lips and gave it a nice kiss. I opened my eyes. Mistress wouldn't want me missing anything. I gave it another kiss. I opened my mouth, so that I could suck on my lollipop. Mistress pushed it in a little further.

And, standing there in front of my Mistress, sucking on an obscene ivory penis, I realized that Ingrid was moving a video camera that I hadn't noticed before. Brigit was making flash photos. She said “Bet these will look great with her other pictures,” and everybody laughed mockingly.

Then the daughters all started singing and clapping to the tune of 'Happy Birthday'. “Zum geburstag viel gluck, Zum geburstag viel gluck, Zum geburstag liebe Cheryl, Zum geburstag......”

As I expected the dildo was being stuffed deeper and deeper into my mouth, and I had to correct my breathing accordingly. Mistress certainly made me work for it. The harder I sucked, the more she would pull it back out. But I was a sissy, so I knew to continue sucking it, cheeks moving in and out rapidly.

Mistress beamed at her daughters. “What a lovely obedient girl this little Miss Rosatunte. I say, I have never seen a sissy as cute and well behaved as her. What do you say girls, shall we make her a permanent part of our household? It is her birthday after all.”

“Absolutely, Mutter!” The girls chorused. “Make her yours. Then make her do anything you want.”

Still sucking on my lollipop, which she continued to hold, she pulled me forward, towards her chair. She got up, pulled me past her and onto the chair. My knees were on the cushion, heels pointing over the edge. My arms rested on the back of the seat.

Madame Directrice produced a pair of handcuffs, and in a quick movement snapped them shut around my wrists. 

“Hold this, use both hands” Mistress said, putting my cuffed hands up to the dildo. “Eyes front, Cheryl! No peeking. Don’t stop sucking though.” I nodded.

“Brigitt, help me with this...,” I heard Mistress say.

I heard the clinging of buckles. I knew what came next.

Mistress took position behind me. Ingrid repositioned the camera again, I was looking right as it. “Smile sissy,” she said. “Show the camera how happy you are.”

I smiled. Smiled when I felt Mistress pull down my panties and apply lubricant on my behind.

She reached around me grabbing my boobs, causing me to moan.

Surprised, Mistress pinched me in the nipple, which made me squeal.

“What is this?” She asked.

Brigitt smiled. “We replaced them with the ones Margot uses. You know, with the nipple clamps underneath? Her fake breasts are almost as sensitive as real ones.”

“I love them,” Mistress said as she tickled my nipples. I would have gasped if I didn't have a dildo in my mouth.

She kissed me on my neck. “Girls, I am happy to say that I decided to allow little miss Rosatunte to remain with us. I will look forward to seeing her cute ass mince around the villa.”

The other women cheered and applauded. Even Madame Directrice joined in.

“Now, shall I give the newest member of our merry little clan her first birthday present?”

The women cheered again. Mistress placed the tip of her strapon against my sissy-hole.

“Time make it official, my dear,” she whispered in my ear. She turned to her daughters. “Girls?”

They sang merrily in chorus, hands clapping “Pretty little sissy, was mincing all about.”

And Mistress entered me. It was big, but I had learned how to relax as filled me, took be from behind. I focused on sucking my lollipop.

“Here comes your Mistress, and makes you cry out loud.”

She started pumping, holding and teasing my delicate breasts through my bra.

“Out come two dildos, she puts one in your mouth.”

She forced me to move with her motions, still teasing my breasts. My clitty was already quite hard.

“Moan louder, sissy, let the camera know how much you are enjoying yourself,” I heard Ingrid say.

“And when you are nice and quiet,” the other women sang.

I felt my feet shake as Mistress pumped me. I felt her tongue in my ear, bite my neck. All of today's pent up sexual energy was about to find release.

“She'll put one there down south!” The women practically shouted. And with a deep thrust, Mistress made me come.

I came on my petticoats, and even on the chair. But no-one seemed to mind.

Mistress whispered in my ear. “You are mine, sissy. Now and forever.”

Tears filled my eyes. Out of happiness, lust or shame, I do not know. All of them, I suppose.

“Aww, sissy is getting all emotional.” Brigitt mocked. “Keep sucking! No idling.”

Madame Directrice handed something to Mistress.

“And here is your second birthday present, Cheryl,” Mistress said as she placed the collar around me.

“Get the mirror,” Mistress spoke as she withdrew from me. “You can take it out, my dear.” She took my lollipop from me.

Martina held up a mirror, showing me my reflection. I saw the familiar girl looking back at me. Her lipstick was smudged, her silly outfit ruffled, but then I noticed the metal collar.

It was a solid metal ring. The shiny metal felt cool against my skin. There were small D-rings along its circumference, and something that was probably a lock at my neck. But it was the ornament at my throat that drew my eyes. It was the shape of a shield, bright blue. On that surface was the constellation of Orion in silver. Mistress' family heraldry.

My fingers went up to the blue shield. She had marked me as hers. I wanted to laugh, weep.

“Wear it proudly, my sweet.” Mistress said.

“Yes Mistress, I will.” I answered softly as I stroked the small ornament. The other women burst into applause.

**********

Of course, the evening didn't end then and there. The ladies made an informal party out of it, with me the guest of honour. Martina brought some snacks and several bottles of expensive liquor. Ingrid used a wet cloth to clean the chair. I turned red as a beet as she cleaned my clitty next, laughing. Brigitt made a careful selection from their music collection before turning on the stereo. I was not expected to do anything but relax, look pretty and be girly.

That wasn't difficult. Mistress had pulled me onto her lap and was kissing and fondling me, mostly teasing my newly sensitive breasts, but also my hole and clitty. She would allow me to get excited, but not find release, keeping me on edge again.

She was very gentle though, and my oohs, ahhs and calls of 'ooh, Mistress!' were very genuine. Mistress was sweet-talking to me, telling me I looked wonderful and that my performance was excellent. This made me blush, and I blushed even more when I told her at length how glad I was to be a sissy.

Every now and then, she would grab me by the neck and push my head down towards her strap-on, making me suck it again while she sipped her brandy. She had not taken it off since Brigitt had helped her into it, but I was glad that in the meantime she had it cleaned!

The other women were drinking and laughing while exchanging gossip in German. Occasionally Mistress joined in, but the ladies mostly ignored me in their chatter.

Of course, once in a while I would suddenly be the centre of attention, the three daughters grinning at me maliciously. The ladies would then make me sing “Pretty little sissy” again, or shout comments and criticism on my cocksucking technique. At one point Madame Directrice would tell some funny stories from Cheryl Rosatunte's colourful past. This caused some hilarity and the ladies to ask me what I was thinking at the time! That certainly confused me, as I wasn't the one who made up that history. Then again, I was Cheryl Rosatunte, and my current past seemed much more real now than my previous one. I just stammered something about not knowing what I was doing at the time.

“Don't worry Cheryl. We'll be telling you what to do from now on.” Ingrid said with a grin. “You just have to look good while doing it.”

I didn't know if the women were supposed to be working tomorrow, but quite a few drinks were being consumed. The ladies insisted I would join them.

“Thank you, Miss Martina, but may I have a soda instead? Brandy is a bit too strong for me.” I never was much of an alcohol drinker to begin with, and with all the weight I had lost I doubted I could cope with more than a glass or two.

“Nonsense. This is a party, and we can't let the guest of honour leave without at least getting her tipsy.”

“You can suck it from a dildo if that would make it more palatable,” Ingrid smirked.

“Don't tease our lovely little sissy, Ingrid” Mistress intervened. “But have a brandy, my dear. I insist. You cannot have a party without alcohol.”

And with that settled, Martina poured me a brandy. Mistress clinked my glass and had me sip my drink as her free hand went over me. Brandy is an acquired taste, very sharp, but I was quite enjoying it before I had finished my first glass. Martina smiled as she poured me another.

The conversation shifted towards the merits of various forms of bondage, ways to discipline wayward sissies, and what would humiliate them the most. My expert opinion was consulted several times.

“Margot showed me these,” Brigitt said, producing a pair of metal rings “They are perfect for Cheryl here. Much more handy that handcuffs. More fashionable too.”

“How so?” Madame Directrice asked.

“Mutter, may I borrow Cheryl for a moment? Thank you. Come here, girl.” I minced over to Brigitt, flush with a alcohol and anxiety.

“Hold out your hands, sissy. Very good. Now ladies, to open them you need a key, and then just close them around the wrists of our unfortunate damsel-in-distress.” Brigitt winked at me maliciously, then turned towards the others.

“Using them is very simple,” Brigitt told them. “They may look like ordinary cuffs, but see these decorations?” Brigitt made me extend hands so the other women could clearly see the bracelets around my writs.

“These are actually snap-locks. Push them against one another...” She held my wrists and pushed the cuffs against each other. I heard a click.

“...And they will snap shut, binding our little Cheryl here. Go ahead sissy, pull them apart.” She let go of my wrists, which were crossed in front of me. I tried to pull my arms apart, but the cuffs resisted. I pulled harder, but aside from hearing some metallic sounds, nothing happened.

“You do not need a key to open them, either. Just push both these two buttons on both cuffs.” She looked right at me. “Something quite impossible for our naughty little sissy to do herself.”

She used thumb and index finger of both hands to push the buttons. With another click, my wrists came loose.

“Seems that little Cheryl will have to be careful not to accidentally bind herself,” Ingrid mocked.

“Accidentally? I fear sissy here will start to chain herself up on purpose. Don't you know girls like her love that sort of thing?” Martina countered. They all laughed.

“Anyway,” Brigitt continued. “You see there are several such locks around their circumferences, and will fix in any orientation. For example...” She grabbed my arms and turned me around, causing me to give a startled shriek. She pulled my wrists behind me crosswise and snapped them together. Brigitt's audience mumbled in approval.

“But you could also connect them like this...” She pulled my wrists apart and then my arms parallel, clicking the undersides of the cuffs against one another. My arms were now locked behind me like in an armbinder.

“Or like this...” I resigned myself with Brigitt binding me again. This time with lower arms parallel, in opposite direction to one another, so my hands were halfway up my back.

“Or any way you want, really.” She finally said. 

Without bothering to untie me, she tugged my shoulders and twirled me around. I squealed as I lost my balance and tipped over, but Brigitt put her arm around my waist and pulled me against her.

“Applause for my lovely assistant, little miss Cheryl Rosatunte,” Brigitt said smiling as she pulled me upright. The other ladies clapped her hands and cheered.

She let go of me and said to me “Thank your audience, girl.”

Mistress observed me closely. I knew what was expected of me.

I bobbed a curtsey, which is very difficult with your arms tied behind you, let me assure you. “Thank you all for you kind applause. It was my pleasure to perform for you,” I said.

Mistress smiled. “You are very welcome, my dear. Come sit with me.” She patted her lap.

The party continued much as it had already.  With her daughters chatting amongst themselves, and Mistress fondling and caressing me. Still with my arms behind tied behind my back, though.

I was getting quite tipsy as Mistress fed me the last of my brandy. And I was not the only one. Mistress had some quite some herself, and for her the evening was coming to an end.

“Girls,” Mistress said, “It is late. Cheryl and I will be retiring for the night.”

“Just retiring?” Brigitt teased.

“Watch your tongue, my dear.” Her voice was authoritarian, but her smile spoke volumes. “Feel free to continue as long as you want though. Good night.”

“Good night Mutter,” Martina said, then giggled. “I hope you – ahem - sleep well, Cheryl.” Ingrid and Brigitt laughed, then wished us good night too.

I performed a curtsey for the ladies, the combination of alcohol, heels and bonds making it less than perfect. They found that very amusing.

“Looks like little miss Rosatunte is a bit tipsy. I bet she'll trip before she's up the stairs.” Ingrid gibed.

“She will most definitely not,” Mistress said sternly, to both me and Ingrid. She produced a leash. “Cheryl is a proper sissy, and she will not disgrace me with such clumsiness. Isn't that right, Cheryl?”

“Yes, Mistress,” I said with pride, straightening myself into a prim and proper posture. As much as possible in my bonds, anyway. How dare Ingrid assume I would disappoint Mistress like that? Did she think that little of me? I assume the alcohol had somehow made me forget I was a sissy, dressed in a demeaning outfit, who had been the centre of ridicule for much of the evening.

Mistress attached the leash to my new collar and gave it a tug. I had some trouble with my balance, but managed to follow her lead submissively.

“Very well. We are off. Don't stay too long, dears. It is almost midnight,” Mistress said as she guided me towards the door.

“Wait, that means it is still Cheryl's birthday,” Martina said. “Let's give our Swiss miss sissy a proper Swiss goodbye, ladies.”

Martina, Ingrid, Brigitt and Madame Directrice joined in song and clapping.

 “Zum geburstag viel gluck, Zum geburstag viel gluck, Zum geburstag liebe Cheryl, Zum geburstag......”

They were still singing as Mistress led me out of the room and up the stairs towards her room.

************

I followed submissively – I could do little else – as Mistress pulled my leash and guided me into her room. She sat me down on her bed and unclipped the leash. She didn't unlock my cuffs, though.

She drifted around the room slowly undressing. First her jacket, then her skirt (not easy with the strapon still underneath). Next came her blouse.

“Cheryl, would you help me with my bra? Oh right, never mind. You are all tied up at the moment, aren't you?” She chuckled. Guess that joke never got old.

“Yes Mistress, it seems I am. My apologies. But if you would untie me...” I tried.

“That can wait,” she said. “Don't worry, I do not really need your help anyway.” She unhooked her bra. “No peeking, my dear. Close your eyes.”

I did. I heard her strip to her undies, taking the strapon off as I heard the harness thud as she dropped it on her dresser. Then she took of her panties, I am sure. I may then have accidentally blinked.

“Cheryl!  If I see you peeking one more time, you will wear a blindfold until morning! Understand, naughty girl?”

She accepted my hasty but elaborate apology.

She moved about the room. Picking a piece of clothing from one dresser, than another one from a closet. She took her time putting them on, and I felt like the very air was being charged.

When she was done, I heard her take place behind her vanity mirror, taking off her jewelry and letting her hair loose. With a brush she stroked it again and again, until I heard her fix it in place with what I assumed were hair clips.

She wiped her face, probably removing her make-up, but I also heard her touch it up here and there.

“You may open your eyes, honey.” She finally said.

It was amazing to see a woman over forty with such a body. Lean, but perfectly rounded in the right places. Long hair falling over her right shoulder.  Nothing artificial about her. Truly a piece of art only nature itself can make. 

She had framed that piece of art with a black bra and panties, which I saw were made of leather. Her waist was inside a matching corset, red lining giving striking contrast to the black satin, from which suspender straps held up stockings. Black patent leather pumps with four inch heels completed the ensemble.

I felt tongue tied, I couldn't help saying something. “You are beautiful, Mistress,” was the best I could come up with.

“Thank you, my dear,” she said with a warm smile. “Now, let's get that silly jacket and skirt off you, shall we? Stand up.”

I got on my heels, and she untied the small bow at my tummy. She pulled slowly on the silk until the knot came undone. She then reached around me to untie the larger bow at my back, looking deep into my eyes as she did. When the other knot was loose, she pulled back on the ribbons that Martina had wrapped around and around to make up the bows. Like silk serpents they twisted around my waist until they were off and Mistress held them up like some banner before letting them flutter to the ground.

She undid my jacket's only button, opening it to the sides and from my shoulders. I was still cuffed, so my arms were still in the sleeves, but she left it at that. I sighed as she stroked the nipples of my fake boobs.

“You are as sensitive as a real girl, Cheryl” she simply said. 

My mind must have melted under her touch. “Yes, Christina,” I replied inadvertently. I gasped as I realized what I had just said.

She gave me a warning look. Stern, but not unkind. She put her hand below my chin and tilted it back, forcing me to look right in her eyes “Mistress,” she said. “I am your Mistress, Cheryl. Forever and always. And you will address me as such. However, this is a special evening and you deserve the right to speak my given name. So just for tonight you may call me Mistress Christina.”

She sniggered. “But how should I call you now? Little miss Rosatunte?” She reached around me to unzip my skirt and pulled it down.

“Cheryl is fine, Mistress Christina.” I said sighing as I felt her hands running down my legs.

“Not tonight, my dear.” She gently turned me around, blowing softly in my ear. “You'd call a maid by her first name only. But today I accepted you as a true sissy in my household. You should cherish that position. Rejoice in your title. Tonight I will call you 'sissy Cheryl'.” She put a lot of emphasis on the first word.

I couldn't quite follow that logic, and I wasn't sure if she was mocking me.  As far as I was concerned 'sissy' is not a compliment. But I wasn't about to argue.

She finally unlocked my cuffs, but held my arms tight for a moment. Then she pulled the jacket off entirely. She unwrapped the pink bow around my ponytail and then fluffed my loose hairdo a bit. She gently turned me around.

Her bright eyes scanned me from top to bottom, stopping at my bra, panties and heels. She smiled.

“All in white. Just like out first night together, no?” she wiped a loose lock of hair out of my face. “Only, you are no longer a virgin. I already took your cherry.”

I blushed. “Yes, Mistress Christina. I am sorry, but Miss Brigitt insisted on it.”

“Don't worry, my dear. You look good in white. Besides, only men are obsessed with virgins. Women like their partners to have some experience. Sissies too.”

She stepped closer. She put her hands on my breasts, stroking them. I felt the lightest touch transmit through the material to my over-sensitive real ones. I gasped. I desperately wanted to put my hands on her, but kept them at my sides. She would determine when I was to touch her.

“You have gained some experience by now, haven't you, sissy Cheryl?”

“Yes, Mistress Christina. You have trained me well, and I have had a lot of practice.” That was true, up to a point. In another life I had my fair share of sexual encounters, but nothing compared to what has happened the last few months. At this rate, I would have had more sex as a girl than I could have ever hoped to have as a man before the year was out. I didn't dare linger on the fact that nowadays I was always the receiving party.

“Time to show me what you have learned,” she spoke as she sat me down on the bed, then walked over to the dresser to pick up the strapon.

“Lay down on the bed, sissy Cheryl. Your Mistress is going to give you the ride of your life,” she said as she fastened the straps of the harness around her.

“Shouldn't I take my heels off first, Mistress Christina?” I said hesitantly.

“Of course not, silly girl.” She said without looking up. “I'm not taking mine off either. Sex is better with heels on. It makes women feel more sexy, taller and empowered. It makes sissies more sexy too, hobbled and vulnerable. Now do as I say.” She finished adjusting the strapon.

I lay down on my back, and Mistress Christina sat down next to me. Her right hand stroking my breasts through my bra, then running down past my corset and to my clitty. I gasped.

“Do you want me to take my clothes off, Mistress Christina?” I said.

“No, sissy Cheryl. I want you to kiss me.” She said as she put her tongue in my mouth. I received it with a moan as I felt her hands dance over my body.

*********

I was already awake when the sun came up. I had slept, for sure. I was very tired afterwards. So was Mistress, who was still asleep, her arm around my naked body. I had lost most of my undies during the night. I only wore my heels and stockings now. So did Mistress, who had even taken the strapon off.

A ray of sunshine sneaked between the curtains and fell on the floor, illuminating the vibrator we had used only hours before.  Other items were there as well. A blindfold. Crop. Ballgag. Everything that was in the nightstand had found its way to the floor eventually. Through me, mostly.

When she was done, Mistress was sweating. She had given it her all for hours. One moment making me moan and squeal with whatever she was holding, the next having me make her groan and grunt as I worked furiously to please her.

Now do not get me wrong, there was no equality. She gave and I received. Everything I wanted to give to her, she took from me instead. When I teased her breasts, it was with her hands around my wrists holding them there. When I licked her, she was pushing my head down forcefully and slapping me hard if my tongue slackened. I entered her only because she sat her crotch down on me.

She had me dancing to her tune, however. I sweet talked, squealed, moved, kicked my legs, and blushed just the way she liked it, brooking no reluctance or failing. She was... forceful... every time she found me wanting, occasionally locking my cuffs and the crop was not for show. Nevertheless, she had made me come. Several times even. Some of the cum found its way back into my mouth or hole.

Yes, she pulled my strings with the grace and skill of a master puppeteer performing with a pretty doll.  Not because she simply could or to assert her dominance over me, but to make me feel it. She searched and probed me for the act that would make me moan and weep with embarrassed delight. I got a glimpse of the joy and pleasure of my humiliation and submission, the feelings of male ego, broken pride and dread silenced for the briefest of moments.

Mistress mumbled something as I moved her hand away and got up. I blushed as I felt a sting of embarrassment as I saw all the female sex toys that I both loved and loathed and had perhaps paid for myself.

I was already halfway dressed when she woke up. “Cheryl?” she said groggily.

I bobbed a curtsy. “Good morning, Mistress,” I said properly, not speaking her name. Perhaps I was her lover mere hours ago, but with the sunrise I was her maid again. I had to play the part. “I am sorry to awaken you, but I need to hurry, as it appears I'm already late for my shift. And it seems you have missed breakfast. Would you like me to ask Frau Seiler to bring some to your room?” I asked perkily.

She sat upright, smiling contentedly. “That will not be necessary. I'll just grab a big lunch at noon.” She hopped her feet from the bed and onto the floor. “And there is no rush. I'm giving you this morning off. Just make sure you are ready to help Frau Seiler at lunchtime.”

“Thank you, Mistress. But I still need to shower, put on my makeup and fix my hair. And I will need some time to put on an outfit for my shift. I fear Miss Brigitt will have me try various frilly dresses before she finds one that is appropriate. I'll be glad if I'm actually ready at lunchtime.”

“What a wonderfully considerate sissy you are,” she said with a happy smile. “I am so glad you offered yourself to me. Your whole life no less...” She beamed “Now I have you all to myself.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” I said as I bobbed a curtsey. But my smile was uneasy. That last remark had troubled me.

Mistress saw my broken smile. “What is the matter, my dear?” she asked concerned.

“That is not quite true, is it Mistress?” I said with a saddened voice. “Madame Directrice told me about Miss Rosenberg. About your arrangement. She will come for me soon, won't she?”

Mistress walked up to me, put her hands around me and drew my head against her shoulder. She kissed me on my forehead. “Yes,” She simply said. She didn't apologise- that was not her way- but I could feel her regret.

We stood there for a moment, until I just nodded. “If that is what it takes...” I uttered, fiddling with the ornament on my collar. I detached from her embrace. Looked her in the eyes, and smiled.

My heels clicked as I stepped back. I bobbed a deep curtsey. “May I be excused, Mistress?”

She gave the slightest of nods. I felt her gaze follow me as I left the room.