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Active Sissy Stories / Re: Philip’s Treatment Homage to Vicky’s, Lip Service by Wincy Willis/Khrissi Martin
« Last post by SissyCat on Today at 08:57:32 AM »
Chapter Five
Philip felt like he was in a fog. There was a strange throbbing feeling, but it felt far away. A large shiny high-heeled shoe loomed into Philip’s field of vision. It seemed too large, but Philip recognized it immediately—Dr Leticia Peabody. He was wearing his pyjamas, bib and mittens; the dummy was strapped firmly in his mouth. Suddenly she was holding his mittened hands and was placing him over her shoe like she was going to give him a “horsey ride.” That was impossible, he was far too old for that! The shoe seemed enormous, the crotch of his pink pyjamas was nestled in the instep of Dr Peabody’s foot and the pointy toe of the shoe seemed to curl up between his legs until it was nestled in his bum crack. He tried to pull away but she had him in an unyielding grip. The throbbing began to grow more intense, and was coming from between his legs where he was so firmly settled on Dr Peabody’ shoe. She looked down and started to laugh as she lifted him up and down. In the corner his mother was standing beside a huge clock, clapping her hands in time to the rocking. Dr Peabody spoke to him in a condescending babyish voice.
“What a silly Philly. One more horsey ride then it’s bedtime for little Philip” His mother was now pointing to the clock. Even as he bounced up and down, up and down he could see the clock was set at 3pm. “ Noooooo!” He was shouting through the dummy. The throbbing between Philip’s legs became more acute, as if a magnifying glass was focusing it into a tiny concentrated spot.
”Ooh Mother look, he is waking up.”
A familiar voice pierced Philip’s fuzzy mind. The bizarre dream melted away. A woman’s face was hovering over Philip. He realised he was still in bed with his blankets tucked in tightly up to his chin. His arms were pinned under the blankets and as his hands were rendered useless in the pink mittens, he couldn’t work up the leverage to free himself. The saliva was running straight down the back of his throat as his lips tightly gripped the shaft of his dummy.
The woman leaned forward and Philip recognised Mrs Swenson. In that case, oh no, the voice that woke him had to be….
Hyacinth Swenson’s features loomed into view.
“Hello Philip, I am pleased you are wearing my pyjamas I wore when I was a little girl!” She said mockingly as she smiled down at him.
“Now Hyacinth,” said her Mother. “Philip is only following the treatment recommended by Dr Peabody so no teasing please.”
It was then that he realised that the pressure in his bladder was severe. He desperately needed to relieve himself. Normally he would have bounded out of bed but he was helplessly trapped while the Swenson’s gazed down at him. He had to get out of this bed. He writhed and wriggled feebly, the exertion causing him to make loud involuntary suc-king sounds as he panted around his dummy. Where was his mother?
”Mpppppppfffffffff!” Philip’s voice croaked unintelligibly when he tried to speak. He had forgotten about the dummy and his words made no sense.
”What is it dear?” Mrs Swenson asked and leaned closer to Philip’s face. As she did so she inadvertedly pressured his bursting bladder. To Philip’s horror he began to wet himself. Once it started he couldn’t stop. Philip was distraught as he felt like he was having possibly the longest pee of his life!
”The big baby, he’s wetting the bed!” Exclaimed Hyacinth.
What on earth are they doing here? Philip thought as she continued. “You need a nappy Philip!” He would have said something scathing but the huge wet stain that was soaking into his sheets was taking all his attention.
“Mppppff!”
Philip was relieved when his entered the room “Has he behaved himself?” She asked, addressing Mrs Swenson.
”Oh Rita, I am afraid he has just wet the bed. He had slept like a baby the whole time you were gone, suc-king contentedly on his dummy. Suddenly he started thrashing about under the covers and when we went to check on him we notice the bed was err… quite wet.”
Philip’s Mother came and stood directly over him. She grabbed the blankets and pulled them down with one hard pull. Philip was completely exposed as a bed wetter; the large wet stain on the front of his pyjamas had spread to his chest and knees and he lay in an even bigger wet spot that was centred under his wet pyjama clad bottom.
Philip looked at his mother with pleading eyes. No, this wasn’t his fault. He tried to say something and managed to spray saliva onto the front of his bib. His frustration became so great that he could feel tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He banged his pink mittened fists against the mattress and tears started to well in the corner of his eyes. No! He was going to start crying!
His Mother, put a warning finger to her lips. Philip forced himself to calm down. He had to make her see that this was not his fault!
His Mother turned and thanked Mrs Swenson and Hyacinth for “babysitting.” The word made Philip’s ears burn as he lay there forlornly in his sopping pink pyjamas and suc-king his dummy.
”No trouble at all Rita, Hyacinth loves babysitting She would love the chance to put Philip into his jim-jams and tuck him into beddybyes, Hyacinth is hoping to go into childcare and become a nanny so she would be grateful for the experience. Look, she even sensed that Philip would like a teddy bear to comfort him. Poor Philip, he already seems quite fond of it.”
Puzzled, Philip turned to the side and the ring of his dummy bumped against a pink teddy bear with plush fur and pink satin belly that had been placed beside him while he slept.
Oh look, baby has given Pink Bear a kiss, did you see? Asked Hyacinth.
”Come along baby, give Pinky Bear another kiss,” she urged this time.
“You heard Hyacinth darling.” His Mother was looking at him pointedly. Philip, still breathing heavily, turned and looked at the bear. He quickly touched the ring of his dummy to the bear’s side and pulled away. Hyacinth clapped her hands with delight then turned to Philips Mother.
“Do you need any help to change Philip’s pyjamas?” Hyacinth asked, still exuberant at the predicament of her classmate.
She pause before continuing, “I would be happy to change his nappies if you decide he needs them and as Mummy said I would get him ready for bed and tuck him up if required.”
Philip couldn’t believe what was coming out of Hyacinth’s mouth and started to shake his head wildly.
”Mmmmpff”! He tried to exclaim in frustration, as a drool of saliva dribbled down his chin.
”That’s very kind Hyacinth,” Philip’s Mother said, pointedly wiping her son’s chin. “I shall certainly keep you in mind if I require any help.”
Chapter Six
His mother looked at Philip and pointed at the floor in front of her. Shamefacedly, Philip got out of the sopping wet bed and stood where his Mother indicated. His pink cloud pyjama bottoms drooped from the heavy wetness of the material. She removed the hand restraints and bib and peeled off the wet pyjamas. He put his hands in front of himself, ashamed of his nakedness but his Mother impatiently slapped his hands away.
Philip’s mother hooked her finger into the ring of the dummy and started to march Philip toward the bathroom. He almost tripped as he struggled to keep up with her. He had never felt so humiliated.
She ran the bath then took out a box of her bubble bath and poured it in. The perfume scent wafted into Philip’s nostrils. Then she added some bath oils with their own strong floral fragrances. As steam filled the room, Philip’s Mother started smearing a white cream all over him.
As she lathered it over him he experienced a hot, almost burning sensation. Her stern glance told him to stand still and not to complain. He suc-ked furtively on his dummy. Just when it became almost unbearable, his Mother directed him into the bubble bath. The scented oily water seemed to permeate his skin.
He soaked for what seemed to be a long time. He could hear activity in the next room.
His Mother returned clutching a washcloth; she began to scrub him vigorously. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d bathed him but she acted as if it had been yesterday. She scrubbed him from head to toe, even behind his ears.
She encompassed his pen-is and testicles in the soapy washcloth and squeezed and scrubbed to such an extent he became partly aroused, much to his intense embarrassment. His Mother seemed oblivious to the fact and took no notice. She applied more soap to the washcloth and got a rich lather up. She wound the soapy washcloth tightly around her manicured finger.
”Now I’ll have to get my nails done again.” She commented before she thrust her finger up his bottom. Philip grimaced as she briskly began cleaning his bum, pressing deep into his bum crack. The soapy washcloth covered finger pressed against his rosebud until it poked inside. Philip’s mother turned it like a corkscrew. Philip let a whimper of protest escape from around the shaft of his dummy.
”Stop fussing you baby!”
His Mother probed more deeply with the slippery washcloth as if to emphasize that she was going to do exactly as she pleased from now on and nothing he did or said was going to change a thing.
Mother rinsed him down with clean water. His skin felt odd, tingling all over. It was then he realised that he didn’t have a single hair left anywhere on his body. His pubic region was as smooth as it was when he was a little boy. Mother towelled him dry roughly. She took him by the hand and led him back to his bedroom; the bed had been stripped bare.
”The mattress is ruined. You will just have to sleep with mummy tonight until I can make other arrangements. You’re going the right way to find yourself back sleeping in your cot if you continue to behave like a baby!” Threatened his Mother.
Phillip stared up at her with disbelief as she led him quickly by the hand to her own bedroom. He had slept in his cot until he was eight years old until she had finally relented and bought him a bed.
”Lie down on your back,” she ordered. He did so with trepidation. His mother started smearing ointment over his smooth bottom. It felt cold and slick. She worked it over his pen-is and testicles, making him squirm. The strong talc smell of baby powder filled his nostrils as she liberally sprinkled it all over. Baby powder? Oh please no . . .
“See what happens when you start acting like a little baby? My son the bed wetter! Well let me tell you. You’re not going to be ruining any more mattresses! When Dr Peabody gave me these nappy’s and plastic panties I assured her that my little Philip was not a bedwetting little baby but she obviously knew something that I didn’t. You have made a fool of me Philip!”
His Mother lifted the seventeen year olds legs and thrust a fluffy nappy under his bottom.
”You are going to be dressed in nappy’s and pyjamas from now on until you prove you can be trusted to go to the toilet like a big boy, do you understand?”
Without waiting for a reply she took out an oversized safety pin with a pink plastic bunny on the head and pinned the cloth nappy in place on one side and repeated the process on the other side. She went back and forth, re-pinning the nappy until it was snug against his skin.
Picking up a translucent, pink plastic pair of baby pants with elastic around the waist and leg openings, she pulled then up snugly over the nappy. They crackled noisily as she pulled his feet through the holes making sure the towelling nappy was completely covered by the plastic.
Philip had his eyes tightly shut throughout this experience as though this waking nightmare would disappear if he chose not to look. Unseen then, his mother unfurled a pair of newly purchased pyjamas. She eased his legs into pink, brushed cotton pyjamas. The material felt soft and comforting against his freshly powdered skin as she manoeuvred his arms into the sleeves. It was only when she buttoned up the pyjama jacket and he opened his eyes that he realised he was actually wearing pink floral pyjamas!
“Yes that’s right Philip. I bought you three new pairs of pink pyjamas to comply with Doctor Peabody’s advice and if you continue to behave like a baby I can’t see you ever wearing anything but pink jim-jams ever again!”
Before he could even contemplate the horror of his pyjamas she had fastened on the first mitten and was lacing it tight. Soon its twin was in place. His mother took a fresh bib and tied it around his neck with the white towelling side facing outwards.
”Now then, time for beddy-byes.” Philip shook his head vigorously, not bedtime surely, he had just had a long nap. He glanced at the bedside clock, three thirty! Even Doctor Peabody had said six o’clock!
“Oh I see, the good behaviour hasn’t lasted, well let me tell you that I will be putting you to beddybyes whenever you disobey or annoy me. Since you will be permanently dressed in your nappies and your baby jim-jams that will be quite easy especially after you receive your bedtime spanking!”
Philip found himself once again draped over her lap. His mother reached down and removed her pink, fur-trimmed slipper. Quickly she built up a rhythm as she spanked, not his nappy clad bottom but his upper legs. The pain was unbearable, his pyjamas offered little protection and soon he was writhing and spluttering through his dummy, begging her to stop.
“Now, are you going to do as you are told and go to beddy-byes for mummy like a good little boy?”
Philip nodded miserably, anything to stop the pain and humiliation of the spanking.
“Goodness knows what Dr Peabody will have to say about all this when I tell her!”
She helped him into the bed and pulled the covers up to his chest, tucking him in so tight that movement was out of the question. She tousled his hair and kissed him night-night with a satisfied expression.
Philip felt like he was in a fog. There was a strange throbbing feeling, but it felt far away. A large shiny high-heeled shoe loomed into Philip’s field of vision. It seemed too large, but Philip recognized it immediately—Dr Leticia Peabody. He was wearing his pyjamas, bib and mittens; the dummy was strapped firmly in his mouth. Suddenly she was holding his mittened hands and was placing him over her shoe like she was going to give him a “horsey ride.” That was impossible, he was far too old for that! The shoe seemed enormous, the crotch of his pink pyjamas was nestled in the instep of Dr Peabody’s foot and the pointy toe of the shoe seemed to curl up between his legs until it was nestled in his bum crack. He tried to pull away but she had him in an unyielding grip. The throbbing began to grow more intense, and was coming from between his legs where he was so firmly settled on Dr Peabody’ shoe. She looked down and started to laugh as she lifted him up and down. In the corner his mother was standing beside a huge clock, clapping her hands in time to the rocking. Dr Peabody spoke to him in a condescending babyish voice.
“What a silly Philly. One more horsey ride then it’s bedtime for little Philip” His mother was now pointing to the clock. Even as he bounced up and down, up and down he could see the clock was set at 3pm. “ Noooooo!” He was shouting through the dummy. The throbbing between Philip’s legs became more acute, as if a magnifying glass was focusing it into a tiny concentrated spot.
”Ooh Mother look, he is waking up.”
A familiar voice pierced Philip’s fuzzy mind. The bizarre dream melted away. A woman’s face was hovering over Philip. He realised he was still in bed with his blankets tucked in tightly up to his chin. His arms were pinned under the blankets and as his hands were rendered useless in the pink mittens, he couldn’t work up the leverage to free himself. The saliva was running straight down the back of his throat as his lips tightly gripped the shaft of his dummy.
The woman leaned forward and Philip recognised Mrs Swenson. In that case, oh no, the voice that woke him had to be….
Hyacinth Swenson’s features loomed into view.
“Hello Philip, I am pleased you are wearing my pyjamas I wore when I was a little girl!” She said mockingly as she smiled down at him.
“Now Hyacinth,” said her Mother. “Philip is only following the treatment recommended by Dr Peabody so no teasing please.”
It was then that he realised that the pressure in his bladder was severe. He desperately needed to relieve himself. Normally he would have bounded out of bed but he was helplessly trapped while the Swenson’s gazed down at him. He had to get out of this bed. He writhed and wriggled feebly, the exertion causing him to make loud involuntary suc-king sounds as he panted around his dummy. Where was his mother?
”Mpppppppfffffffff!” Philip’s voice croaked unintelligibly when he tried to speak. He had forgotten about the dummy and his words made no sense.
”What is it dear?” Mrs Swenson asked and leaned closer to Philip’s face. As she did so she inadvertedly pressured his bursting bladder. To Philip’s horror he began to wet himself. Once it started he couldn’t stop. Philip was distraught as he felt like he was having possibly the longest pee of his life!
”The big baby, he’s wetting the bed!” Exclaimed Hyacinth.
What on earth are they doing here? Philip thought as she continued. “You need a nappy Philip!” He would have said something scathing but the huge wet stain that was soaking into his sheets was taking all his attention.
“Mppppff!”
Philip was relieved when his entered the room “Has he behaved himself?” She asked, addressing Mrs Swenson.
”Oh Rita, I am afraid he has just wet the bed. He had slept like a baby the whole time you were gone, suc-king contentedly on his dummy. Suddenly he started thrashing about under the covers and when we went to check on him we notice the bed was err… quite wet.”
Philip’s Mother came and stood directly over him. She grabbed the blankets and pulled them down with one hard pull. Philip was completely exposed as a bed wetter; the large wet stain on the front of his pyjamas had spread to his chest and knees and he lay in an even bigger wet spot that was centred under his wet pyjama clad bottom.
Philip looked at his mother with pleading eyes. No, this wasn’t his fault. He tried to say something and managed to spray saliva onto the front of his bib. His frustration became so great that he could feel tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He banged his pink mittened fists against the mattress and tears started to well in the corner of his eyes. No! He was going to start crying!
His Mother, put a warning finger to her lips. Philip forced himself to calm down. He had to make her see that this was not his fault!
His Mother turned and thanked Mrs Swenson and Hyacinth for “babysitting.” The word made Philip’s ears burn as he lay there forlornly in his sopping pink pyjamas and suc-king his dummy.
”No trouble at all Rita, Hyacinth loves babysitting She would love the chance to put Philip into his jim-jams and tuck him into beddybyes, Hyacinth is hoping to go into childcare and become a nanny so she would be grateful for the experience. Look, she even sensed that Philip would like a teddy bear to comfort him. Poor Philip, he already seems quite fond of it.”
Puzzled, Philip turned to the side and the ring of his dummy bumped against a pink teddy bear with plush fur and pink satin belly that had been placed beside him while he slept.
Oh look, baby has given Pink Bear a kiss, did you see? Asked Hyacinth.
”Come along baby, give Pinky Bear another kiss,” she urged this time.
“You heard Hyacinth darling.” His Mother was looking at him pointedly. Philip, still breathing heavily, turned and looked at the bear. He quickly touched the ring of his dummy to the bear’s side and pulled away. Hyacinth clapped her hands with delight then turned to Philips Mother.
“Do you need any help to change Philip’s pyjamas?” Hyacinth asked, still exuberant at the predicament of her classmate.
She pause before continuing, “I would be happy to change his nappies if you decide he needs them and as Mummy said I would get him ready for bed and tuck him up if required.”
Philip couldn’t believe what was coming out of Hyacinth’s mouth and started to shake his head wildly.
”Mmmmpff”! He tried to exclaim in frustration, as a drool of saliva dribbled down his chin.
”That’s very kind Hyacinth,” Philip’s Mother said, pointedly wiping her son’s chin. “I shall certainly keep you in mind if I require any help.”
Chapter Six
His mother looked at Philip and pointed at the floor in front of her. Shamefacedly, Philip got out of the sopping wet bed and stood where his Mother indicated. His pink cloud pyjama bottoms drooped from the heavy wetness of the material. She removed the hand restraints and bib and peeled off the wet pyjamas. He put his hands in front of himself, ashamed of his nakedness but his Mother impatiently slapped his hands away.
Philip’s mother hooked her finger into the ring of the dummy and started to march Philip toward the bathroom. He almost tripped as he struggled to keep up with her. He had never felt so humiliated.
She ran the bath then took out a box of her bubble bath and poured it in. The perfume scent wafted into Philip’s nostrils. Then she added some bath oils with their own strong floral fragrances. As steam filled the room, Philip’s Mother started smearing a white cream all over him.
As she lathered it over him he experienced a hot, almost burning sensation. Her stern glance told him to stand still and not to complain. He suc-ked furtively on his dummy. Just when it became almost unbearable, his Mother directed him into the bubble bath. The scented oily water seemed to permeate his skin.
He soaked for what seemed to be a long time. He could hear activity in the next room.
His Mother returned clutching a washcloth; she began to scrub him vigorously. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d bathed him but she acted as if it had been yesterday. She scrubbed him from head to toe, even behind his ears.
She encompassed his pen-is and testicles in the soapy washcloth and squeezed and scrubbed to such an extent he became partly aroused, much to his intense embarrassment. His Mother seemed oblivious to the fact and took no notice. She applied more soap to the washcloth and got a rich lather up. She wound the soapy washcloth tightly around her manicured finger.
”Now I’ll have to get my nails done again.” She commented before she thrust her finger up his bottom. Philip grimaced as she briskly began cleaning his bum, pressing deep into his bum crack. The soapy washcloth covered finger pressed against his rosebud until it poked inside. Philip’s mother turned it like a corkscrew. Philip let a whimper of protest escape from around the shaft of his dummy.
”Stop fussing you baby!”
His Mother probed more deeply with the slippery washcloth as if to emphasize that she was going to do exactly as she pleased from now on and nothing he did or said was going to change a thing.
Mother rinsed him down with clean water. His skin felt odd, tingling all over. It was then he realised that he didn’t have a single hair left anywhere on his body. His pubic region was as smooth as it was when he was a little boy. Mother towelled him dry roughly. She took him by the hand and led him back to his bedroom; the bed had been stripped bare.
”The mattress is ruined. You will just have to sleep with mummy tonight until I can make other arrangements. You’re going the right way to find yourself back sleeping in your cot if you continue to behave like a baby!” Threatened his Mother.
Phillip stared up at her with disbelief as she led him quickly by the hand to her own bedroom. He had slept in his cot until he was eight years old until she had finally relented and bought him a bed.
”Lie down on your back,” she ordered. He did so with trepidation. His mother started smearing ointment over his smooth bottom. It felt cold and slick. She worked it over his pen-is and testicles, making him squirm. The strong talc smell of baby powder filled his nostrils as she liberally sprinkled it all over. Baby powder? Oh please no . . .
“See what happens when you start acting like a little baby? My son the bed wetter! Well let me tell you. You’re not going to be ruining any more mattresses! When Dr Peabody gave me these nappy’s and plastic panties I assured her that my little Philip was not a bedwetting little baby but she obviously knew something that I didn’t. You have made a fool of me Philip!”
His Mother lifted the seventeen year olds legs and thrust a fluffy nappy under his bottom.
”You are going to be dressed in nappy’s and pyjamas from now on until you prove you can be trusted to go to the toilet like a big boy, do you understand?”
Without waiting for a reply she took out an oversized safety pin with a pink plastic bunny on the head and pinned the cloth nappy in place on one side and repeated the process on the other side. She went back and forth, re-pinning the nappy until it was snug against his skin.
Picking up a translucent, pink plastic pair of baby pants with elastic around the waist and leg openings, she pulled then up snugly over the nappy. They crackled noisily as she pulled his feet through the holes making sure the towelling nappy was completely covered by the plastic.
Philip had his eyes tightly shut throughout this experience as though this waking nightmare would disappear if he chose not to look. Unseen then, his mother unfurled a pair of newly purchased pyjamas. She eased his legs into pink, brushed cotton pyjamas. The material felt soft and comforting against his freshly powdered skin as she manoeuvred his arms into the sleeves. It was only when she buttoned up the pyjama jacket and he opened his eyes that he realised he was actually wearing pink floral pyjamas!
“Yes that’s right Philip. I bought you three new pairs of pink pyjamas to comply with Doctor Peabody’s advice and if you continue to behave like a baby I can’t see you ever wearing anything but pink jim-jams ever again!”
Before he could even contemplate the horror of his pyjamas she had fastened on the first mitten and was lacing it tight. Soon its twin was in place. His mother took a fresh bib and tied it around his neck with the white towelling side facing outwards.
”Now then, time for beddy-byes.” Philip shook his head vigorously, not bedtime surely, he had just had a long nap. He glanced at the bedside clock, three thirty! Even Doctor Peabody had said six o’clock!
“Oh I see, the good behaviour hasn’t lasted, well let me tell you that I will be putting you to beddybyes whenever you disobey or annoy me. Since you will be permanently dressed in your nappies and your baby jim-jams that will be quite easy especially after you receive your bedtime spanking!”
Philip found himself once again draped over her lap. His mother reached down and removed her pink, fur-trimmed slipper. Quickly she built up a rhythm as she spanked, not his nappy clad bottom but his upper legs. The pain was unbearable, his pyjamas offered little protection and soon he was writhing and spluttering through his dummy, begging her to stop.
“Now, are you going to do as you are told and go to beddy-byes for mummy like a good little boy?”
Philip nodded miserably, anything to stop the pain and humiliation of the spanking.
“Goodness knows what Dr Peabody will have to say about all this when I tell her!”
She helped him into the bed and pulled the covers up to his chest, tucking him in so tight that movement was out of the question. She tousled his hair and kissed him night-night with a satisfied expression.
2
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on Today at 05:54:00 AM »
Chapter 337.
They let Tim sleep in that Sunday. It was the last day of November. The women were all in the breakfast room. Over coffee, Serena related the events of the previous day to the others, and showed them such pictures as she had manged to take.
“So you would say he was a success?” asked Cassandra.
“Mum, he was a fuc-king hit! I’m telling you, he was, like, the main attraction! I have a list of names and phone numbers of people who want to hire him. And Deborah was delighted, not only with his performance in church, but in the way he entertained her guests. “They won’t forget my wedding for a while,” she said to me. No, you should be proud of him. And he was really enjoying himself, too. You should have seen the way he was showing off to all the ladies.”
“Excellent… And did he manage to stay, shall we say, well-behaved?”
Serena laughed. “Yes, right up until we were about to leave. He was so focussed on pleasing all his admirers, I don’t think he had time even to consider pleasuring himself!”
“Good boy. This opens up a whole new role for him. Text me that list, won’t you? I should start making a calendar.”
“So what’s happening this week?” asked Priscilla.
“So Cynthia tells me the new stuff will be in Wednesday afternoon,” said Cassandra. “We can collect it Thursday first thing and do the photoshoot.”
“That’s for the new brochure, right?” asked Nicola.
“Yes… And anything else. We’ve got limited space in the brochure, but we can put multiple photos on the website for people to choose from.”
“Mum…about the photoshoot…”
“Yes, dear?”
“Have you got a venue in mind?”
“Well, I was thinking of the park… There’s a play area there, with a climbing frame. There shouldn’t be many people about on a Thursday…”
“I was wondering. Tim’s desperate to see Bobby. I was thinking maybe the stables would be a good place, and he and Bobby could get together after we were done. Actually there’s quite a nice play area there, if you wanted one, behind the new stable block.”
Cassandra thought for a moment. “That’s a brilliant idea, Serena. It would work perfectly. It’s near Fantastex. And there’d be a few girls about to add a bit of atmosphere. I’ll ask Violet today. I’m sure she’ll agree.”
“He’ll be so happy, mum. By the way, today’s his official day off, yeah?”
“Well, it was supposed to be. But Violet’s already had some feedback from her friends, and she’s asked to see him today, all dressed up in his pageboy uniform. I hope he won’t be disappointed…”
“He’ll be happy! He’ll be able to hang out with Bobby today as well! Oh, here he is…”
A very sleepy-looking Tim had pushed open the door of the breakfast room, and was standing there in his pyjamas blinking and rubbing his eyes.
“A piece of him, anyway,” she added, with a smile.
“He looks so cute in his new PJs,” grinned Doreen.
“Tim!” cried Cassandra. “Come in, darling. I’ve just been hearing all about yesterday. Well done! You were a great success. Come and sit down. What would you like to eat? Tell Margaret and she’ll make it for you.”
He was still tired, but hungry too.
“M-maybe a few pancakes,” he said, weakly.
“Maple syrup, Tim?” asked Margaret.
“And lemon juice…”
“Coming up!”
They let Tim sleep in that Sunday. It was the last day of November. The women were all in the breakfast room. Over coffee, Serena related the events of the previous day to the others, and showed them such pictures as she had manged to take.
“So you would say he was a success?” asked Cassandra.
“Mum, he was a fuc-king hit! I’m telling you, he was, like, the main attraction! I have a list of names and phone numbers of people who want to hire him. And Deborah was delighted, not only with his performance in church, but in the way he entertained her guests. “They won’t forget my wedding for a while,” she said to me. No, you should be proud of him. And he was really enjoying himself, too. You should have seen the way he was showing off to all the ladies.”
“Excellent… And did he manage to stay, shall we say, well-behaved?”
Serena laughed. “Yes, right up until we were about to leave. He was so focussed on pleasing all his admirers, I don’t think he had time even to consider pleasuring himself!”
“Good boy. This opens up a whole new role for him. Text me that list, won’t you? I should start making a calendar.”
“So what’s happening this week?” asked Priscilla.
“So Cynthia tells me the new stuff will be in Wednesday afternoon,” said Cassandra. “We can collect it Thursday first thing and do the photoshoot.”
“That’s for the new brochure, right?” asked Nicola.
“Yes… And anything else. We’ve got limited space in the brochure, but we can put multiple photos on the website for people to choose from.”
“Mum…about the photoshoot…”
“Yes, dear?”
“Have you got a venue in mind?”
“Well, I was thinking of the park… There’s a play area there, with a climbing frame. There shouldn’t be many people about on a Thursday…”
“I was wondering. Tim’s desperate to see Bobby. I was thinking maybe the stables would be a good place, and he and Bobby could get together after we were done. Actually there’s quite a nice play area there, if you wanted one, behind the new stable block.”
Cassandra thought for a moment. “That’s a brilliant idea, Serena. It would work perfectly. It’s near Fantastex. And there’d be a few girls about to add a bit of atmosphere. I’ll ask Violet today. I’m sure she’ll agree.”
“He’ll be so happy, mum. By the way, today’s his official day off, yeah?”
“Well, it was supposed to be. But Violet’s already had some feedback from her friends, and she’s asked to see him today, all dressed up in his pageboy uniform. I hope he won’t be disappointed…”
“He’ll be happy! He’ll be able to hang out with Bobby today as well! Oh, here he is…”
A very sleepy-looking Tim had pushed open the door of the breakfast room, and was standing there in his pyjamas blinking and rubbing his eyes.
“A piece of him, anyway,” she added, with a smile.
“He looks so cute in his new PJs,” grinned Doreen.
“Tim!” cried Cassandra. “Come in, darling. I’ve just been hearing all about yesterday. Well done! You were a great success. Come and sit down. What would you like to eat? Tell Margaret and she’ll make it for you.”
He was still tired, but hungry too.
“M-maybe a few pancakes,” he said, weakly.
“Maple syrup, Tim?” asked Margaret.
“And lemon juice…”
“Coming up!”
3
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on Yesterday at 07:14:04 PM »
Chapter336.
He wasn’t alone for long. At once he was surrounded by a group of women who had been waiting their opportunity to pounce. He tried to make an excuse, by they were having none of it. Emboldened by wine, they grabbed him, eulogising over his uniform, cuddling and virtually groping him, and demanding he pose for them and with them. They only released him when their husbands and boyfriends came and marched them away.
“Don, we haven’t finished with our little toy-boy… Please…”
“Oh yes you have, madam. He’s a little too young for you and your mates.”
“But look at him… He so cute…”
“Sorry, Tim…”
“That’s all right, sir…”
The celebrations went on long after the departure of the bride and groom. It had been a long day though, and guests with young children started leaving about eight, and by ten-thirty most of the others were getting ready to leave, while the dedicated party animals were heading to the main hotel bar. At last he could chill. He stood on the dance floor watching the last few couples dancing. Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned. A girl in a pretty pink dress, holding a pink helium balloon on a string. She held out her hand.
“Hi. I’m Esther. We have to leave now, but I didn’t want to go before I’d said hello.”
“The balloon…”
“It was meant for the happy couples car, but they drove off before I could tie it on. So I thought of you. It would go well with your pretty hot pants.”
“They’re not…”
“Go on, take it. See? You look even more like a sweet little boy. Stand there so I can take a snap. There. Now, let’s have a selfie.” She stood beside him. “Smile, Tim. Cool.”
She was so open and charming, Tim almost fell for her on the spot.
“Who…?”
“I told you. Esther. Esther Shilling. I have to go. But don’t worry – we’ll meet again soon. I got your number from one of my friends, and I’ve been talking to Miss Egerton. I already know quite a bit about you, little boy.” She wrinkled her nose and giggled teasingly.
“You can’t call me that. I’m older than you…”
“Only in body… Bye Tim.” She gave him a mischievous look, flicked her hair, turned and skipped away. He looked after her. He almost called to her. Instead he frowned.
“That’s the second time tonight I’ve been abandoned,” he said to himself. “Each time before I’d said what I wanted to say, each time by a pretty girl… Damn…”
Tim had been sipping champagne for most of the evening, and that, combined with the warmth of the room, the constant attention, and the hugs, kisses and cuddles of departing friends and acquaintances, were having their effect. He could feel growing pressure in his shorts. He smoothed the hot latex with one hand – the one not holding the balloon. There was a little bulge just to the right of the centre seam, swelling and firming slowly but inexorably.
“Time to go…”
“There you are!” It was Serena.
“Miss, can we go?”
“I was just about to say… Get rid of that balloon, and…”
“No. I want to keep it.”
She laughed. “Okay. You do look sweet holding it. Let me get a quick piccy…”
They went to the car.
“You look tired. I’ll put the seat down. You can sleep if you want. Where did you get the balloon? Was it that girl in pink? It was, wasn’t it? Very pretty. Who is she?”
“Dunno. Her name’s Esther…”
“Okay.”
She leant across him, pulled his seatbelt over, and clipped it home. She started the engine. “We can take our time. Just rest, Tim. You’ve had a busy day.”
She started the Porsche and pulled out of the hotel car park.
“Miss…?”
“Yes, Tim?”
“When will I get to see Bobby? I really miss him…”
“Oh, I’m not sure… Soon, though.”
“Couldn’t we call in at the stables one day?”
“Well, it’s going to be a busy week. Fittings, photo-shoot, getting ready for Mrs Brookshaw…”
“Where’s the photo-shoot gonna be?”
“Not sure… Well, I suppose it might be possible…”
“Yeah?”
“To have it at the stables. If the weather’s okay.”
“Could we? That would be great. I could see Bobby.”
“I’ll ask mum… Don’t see why not. It would be a great location…”
“Do… Please…”
He leaned back, eyes half-closed. He was still holding the balloon string. She noticed his other hand crept onto the front of his shorts. After a while he began slowly, surreptitiously kneading the bulge. Occasionally there was a faint squelching sound, and he would stop for a few seconds, then, believing Serena had not noticed, he would continue. She smiled. “Naughty boy,” she thought. “But he must be feeling so horny after spending a day in his little rubber pants being pawed by all those women… Go on, darling, enjoy… Don’t hold back…”
And he didn’t. They were less than five minutes from ESDS when he suddenly tensed, moaned, bit his lip, and shuddered to an ill-concealed climax. Serena grinned, muttering under her breath, “I think you needed that, darling”
He wasn’t alone for long. At once he was surrounded by a group of women who had been waiting their opportunity to pounce. He tried to make an excuse, by they were having none of it. Emboldened by wine, they grabbed him, eulogising over his uniform, cuddling and virtually groping him, and demanding he pose for them and with them. They only released him when their husbands and boyfriends came and marched them away.
“Don, we haven’t finished with our little toy-boy… Please…”
“Oh yes you have, madam. He’s a little too young for you and your mates.”
“But look at him… He so cute…”
“Sorry, Tim…”
“That’s all right, sir…”
The celebrations went on long after the departure of the bride and groom. It had been a long day though, and guests with young children started leaving about eight, and by ten-thirty most of the others were getting ready to leave, while the dedicated party animals were heading to the main hotel bar. At last he could chill. He stood on the dance floor watching the last few couples dancing. Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned. A girl in a pretty pink dress, holding a pink helium balloon on a string. She held out her hand.
“Hi. I’m Esther. We have to leave now, but I didn’t want to go before I’d said hello.”
“The balloon…”
“It was meant for the happy couples car, but they drove off before I could tie it on. So I thought of you. It would go well with your pretty hot pants.”
“They’re not…”
“Go on, take it. See? You look even more like a sweet little boy. Stand there so I can take a snap. There. Now, let’s have a selfie.” She stood beside him. “Smile, Tim. Cool.”
She was so open and charming, Tim almost fell for her on the spot.
“Who…?”
“I told you. Esther. Esther Shilling. I have to go. But don’t worry – we’ll meet again soon. I got your number from one of my friends, and I’ve been talking to Miss Egerton. I already know quite a bit about you, little boy.” She wrinkled her nose and giggled teasingly.
“You can’t call me that. I’m older than you…”
“Only in body… Bye Tim.” She gave him a mischievous look, flicked her hair, turned and skipped away. He looked after her. He almost called to her. Instead he frowned.
“That’s the second time tonight I’ve been abandoned,” he said to himself. “Each time before I’d said what I wanted to say, each time by a pretty girl… Damn…”
Tim had been sipping champagne for most of the evening, and that, combined with the warmth of the room, the constant attention, and the hugs, kisses and cuddles of departing friends and acquaintances, were having their effect. He could feel growing pressure in his shorts. He smoothed the hot latex with one hand – the one not holding the balloon. There was a little bulge just to the right of the centre seam, swelling and firming slowly but inexorably.
“Time to go…”
“There you are!” It was Serena.
“Miss, can we go?”
“I was just about to say… Get rid of that balloon, and…”
“No. I want to keep it.”
She laughed. “Okay. You do look sweet holding it. Let me get a quick piccy…”
They went to the car.
“You look tired. I’ll put the seat down. You can sleep if you want. Where did you get the balloon? Was it that girl in pink? It was, wasn’t it? Very pretty. Who is she?”
“Dunno. Her name’s Esther…”
“Okay.”
She leant across him, pulled his seatbelt over, and clipped it home. She started the engine. “We can take our time. Just rest, Tim. You’ve had a busy day.”
She started the Porsche and pulled out of the hotel car park.
“Miss…?”
“Yes, Tim?”
“When will I get to see Bobby? I really miss him…”
“Oh, I’m not sure… Soon, though.”
“Couldn’t we call in at the stables one day?”
“Well, it’s going to be a busy week. Fittings, photo-shoot, getting ready for Mrs Brookshaw…”
“Where’s the photo-shoot gonna be?”
“Not sure… Well, I suppose it might be possible…”
“Yeah?”
“To have it at the stables. If the weather’s okay.”
“Could we? That would be great. I could see Bobby.”
“I’ll ask mum… Don’t see why not. It would be a great location…”
“Do… Please…”
He leaned back, eyes half-closed. He was still holding the balloon string. She noticed his other hand crept onto the front of his shorts. After a while he began slowly, surreptitiously kneading the bulge. Occasionally there was a faint squelching sound, and he would stop for a few seconds, then, believing Serena had not noticed, he would continue. She smiled. “Naughty boy,” she thought. “But he must be feeling so horny after spending a day in his little rubber pants being pawed by all those women… Go on, darling, enjoy… Don’t hold back…”
And he didn’t. They were less than five minutes from ESDS when he suddenly tensed, moaned, bit his lip, and shuddered to an ill-concealed climax. Serena grinned, muttering under her breath, “I think you needed that, darling”
4
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on Yesterday at 06:45:25 PM »
Chapter 335.
In an instant he found himself surrounded by a little group of teenage girls, all asking questions at once and snapping away with their phones.
“Your outfit’s so cool…”
“Can I have a selfie?”
“My mum thinks your great! She said to ask you for your phone number…”
“Did she? Does she want to make a booking?”
“Er… Yes…”
“Because that would have to go through my aunt or ESDS.”
“Oh… ESDS? I don’t know…”
“They’re like, er, my manager…”
“Oh…I see… But we I…I mean my mum…wants to call you about, er, something else…yes, about your uniform and stuff…”
“Oh. Okay then. Ready?”
She seemed very excited to have got his phone number…for her mum… In fact they all seemed happy about it!
Another got him to sign the dinner menu. Then they took it in turns to cuddle up to him while their friends took snaps. One of them gave him a little heart ring which would just about fit on his little finger. Another gave him one of her scrunchies. It was great - even the kids appreciated his outfit. He felt quite overwhelmed, and so happy. Not that he had ever felt really nervous, but in the event the whole day had been an even greater success than he could have hoped.
He needed a break. Coffees were being served now, and a few couples had made their way onto the dancefloor. He was hanging out on the edge when he was approached by a pretty blonde girl in a green dress.
“Hello.”
“Oh…hi…”
“Your Tim, aren’t you? I know you are, because I’ve been waiting to talk to you. You have a lot of admirers here.”
“Well, not really…”
“Oh, yes you do. I’m one too. And I’m going to be seeing a lot more of you in future, I believe.”
“You are…? Who…?”
“I’m Robyn. I’m Connie Brookshaw’s niece.”
“Connie…? Oh! Mrs Brookshaw! Yes, I see… I’ve haven’t actually met your aunt, but…”
“I know. You will soon, though, won’t you? Don’t worry, I’m not here to suss you out. She’s already seen a picture. She picked you out at once. I can see why.”
Tim blushed. Despite his swaggering, he felt flattered. Robyn was really pretty.
“I’ve been talking to Serena. She was saying she’s going to pick up some new pageboy outfits from that shop…”
“Fantastex?”
“Yes, Fantastex. Also a couple of maid outfits for my aunt. She has particular tastes, you know. I’ve asked if I can come to the fittings, or at least the photo-shoot for the ESDS brochure.”
“Oh…”
“Wherever it is. I gather that hasn’t been decided yet.”
“I see…”
“So I’ll look forward to seeing you there. Take care, Tim dear…”
“Oh, yes…and you…”
She gave him the sweetest smile, turned, and rather abruptly walked away.
In an instant he found himself surrounded by a little group of teenage girls, all asking questions at once and snapping away with their phones.
“Your outfit’s so cool…”
“Can I have a selfie?”
“My mum thinks your great! She said to ask you for your phone number…”
“Did she? Does she want to make a booking?”
“Er… Yes…”
“Because that would have to go through my aunt or ESDS.”
“Oh… ESDS? I don’t know…”
“They’re like, er, my manager…”
“Oh…I see… But we I…I mean my mum…wants to call you about, er, something else…yes, about your uniform and stuff…”
“Oh. Okay then. Ready?”
She seemed very excited to have got his phone number…for her mum… In fact they all seemed happy about it!
Another got him to sign the dinner menu. Then they took it in turns to cuddle up to him while their friends took snaps. One of them gave him a little heart ring which would just about fit on his little finger. Another gave him one of her scrunchies. It was great - even the kids appreciated his outfit. He felt quite overwhelmed, and so happy. Not that he had ever felt really nervous, but in the event the whole day had been an even greater success than he could have hoped.
He needed a break. Coffees were being served now, and a few couples had made their way onto the dancefloor. He was hanging out on the edge when he was approached by a pretty blonde girl in a green dress.
“Hello.”
“Oh…hi…”
“Your Tim, aren’t you? I know you are, because I’ve been waiting to talk to you. You have a lot of admirers here.”
“Well, not really…”
“Oh, yes you do. I’m one too. And I’m going to be seeing a lot more of you in future, I believe.”
“You are…? Who…?”
“I’m Robyn. I’m Connie Brookshaw’s niece.”
“Connie…? Oh! Mrs Brookshaw! Yes, I see… I’ve haven’t actually met your aunt, but…”
“I know. You will soon, though, won’t you? Don’t worry, I’m not here to suss you out. She’s already seen a picture. She picked you out at once. I can see why.”
Tim blushed. Despite his swaggering, he felt flattered. Robyn was really pretty.
“I’ve been talking to Serena. She was saying she’s going to pick up some new pageboy outfits from that shop…”
“Fantastex?”
“Yes, Fantastex. Also a couple of maid outfits for my aunt. She has particular tastes, you know. I’ve asked if I can come to the fittings, or at least the photo-shoot for the ESDS brochure.”
“Oh…”
“Wherever it is. I gather that hasn’t been decided yet.”
“I see…”
“So I’ll look forward to seeing you there. Take care, Tim dear…”
“Oh, yes…and you…”
She gave him the sweetest smile, turned, and rather abruptly walked away.
5
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on Yesterday at 06:29:20 PM »
Chapter 334.
There was quite a hubbub now – chattering, voices raised in delight, laughing. Tim was in his element. Everyone was so nice to him – friendly but respectful. He posed by himself, relaxed, or hands on hips, or pointing at his shorts – there were quite a lot of requests for that – and of course everyone wanted selfies. He seemed very quickly to have become the star of the proceedings. He hoped he wasn’t stealing Deborah’s thunder. He glanced over at her sitting at the top table. She smiled and gave him a little wave. No, she was clearly happy that he was such a hit. She said something to Sebastian, at which he laughed and nodded, and gave him a thumbs-up. Wow, this was great! It was like being a rock star, or some sort of celebrity with a huge fan-club!
He was buttonholed by three ladies. One of them, an elderly lady in a blue dress, congratulated him on his outfit. She pointed at his shorts. “I love the little frills – such a nice touch.” One of the others asked him if he was for hire. “My niece’s wedding is coming up in February. If there’s any chance…”
“Oh, there may be. You’d have to ask my aunt… She does bookings and stuff… Lady in blue…”
He pointed her out. It wasn’t the first time he’d been asked, nor would it be the last.
“Would you be able to wear, er, the same outfit, do you think?”
“Oh, possibly. Though my outfitters is experimenting with some new colours, I believe.”
“How interesting. Maybe we could even commission colours to match my daughter’s dress…”
“Maybe…”
“…or even discuss styles. The wedding is costing us a fortune… Really money would be no object if we could have something, you know, a little creative…”
“I’m sure anything’s possible if I’m free…”
“Super! I’ll go an talk to your aunt…”
“Serena. Serena Egerton.”
“Yes, we’ve got all the photos we wanted, girls? Yes, let’s go. Looks like some of the youngsters want to have a piece of you too!”
There was quite a hubbub now – chattering, voices raised in delight, laughing. Tim was in his element. Everyone was so nice to him – friendly but respectful. He posed by himself, relaxed, or hands on hips, or pointing at his shorts – there were quite a lot of requests for that – and of course everyone wanted selfies. He seemed very quickly to have become the star of the proceedings. He hoped he wasn’t stealing Deborah’s thunder. He glanced over at her sitting at the top table. She smiled and gave him a little wave. No, she was clearly happy that he was such a hit. She said something to Sebastian, at which he laughed and nodded, and gave him a thumbs-up. Wow, this was great! It was like being a rock star, or some sort of celebrity with a huge fan-club!
He was buttonholed by three ladies. One of them, an elderly lady in a blue dress, congratulated him on his outfit. She pointed at his shorts. “I love the little frills – such a nice touch.” One of the others asked him if he was for hire. “My niece’s wedding is coming up in February. If there’s any chance…”
“Oh, there may be. You’d have to ask my aunt… She does bookings and stuff… Lady in blue…”
He pointed her out. It wasn’t the first time he’d been asked, nor would it be the last.
“Would you be able to wear, er, the same outfit, do you think?”
“Oh, possibly. Though my outfitters is experimenting with some new colours, I believe.”
“How interesting. Maybe we could even commission colours to match my daughter’s dress…”
“Maybe…”
“…or even discuss styles. The wedding is costing us a fortune… Really money would be no object if we could have something, you know, a little creative…”
“I’m sure anything’s possible if I’m free…”
“Super! I’ll go an talk to your aunt…”
“Serena. Serena Egerton.”
“Yes, we’ve got all the photos we wanted, girls? Yes, let’s go. Looks like some of the youngsters want to have a piece of you too!”
6
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on Yesterday at 06:20:59 PM »
Chapter 333.
There was a female attendant by the door, a young woman in a crisp white blouse and smart black skirt. She was well-disciplined, and the only reaction she showed was a slight widening of the eyes, which Tim registered and took for surprised admiration.
“Sir…”
She opened the door with a slight inclination of the head, which he took for respect, but which in fact served to hide an irrepressible grin. He was feeling pleased with himself. In full uniform, gloves and all, even those who had already seen him would pay attention. He strode boldly into the crowded room, head erect, wearing a faintly superior smile.
This side of the ballroom was occupied mainly by guests who hadn’t been invited to the ceremony. He passed casually between the tables, looking around as if searching for someone. The buzz of conversation faded as he passed, replaced by a stunned silence, broken only by gasps, and a little cry of surprise from a woman somewhere behind him. Ahead of him two women on adjacent tables had been chatting. But when they saw him they stopped and stared, open-mouthed. He gave one a friendly, condescending smile, and was about to pass on when she spoke.
“Are you…the pageboy?”
He stopped. “I am, yes.”
“Oh…gosh…” She fought back the urge to burst out laughing. “We…we’ve heard so much…about you… Now I see why.” She blinked, and stared at his shorts. “What an…incredible – I mean, absolutely amazing, outfit… We’ve never actually seen a real pageboy in a real pageboy outfit. Have we, Eileen?” she added, addressing the woman across the aisle.
“No, never… What’s your name, young man?”
“I’m Tim.”
“You look…well, so smart. Deborah told us to check you out… I mean, to make sure we said hello… Can I ask… Your shorts… Is that vinyl?”
They were clearly impressed. And so were their neighbours, to judge by the clicking of camera shutters from the nearby tables.
“Latex, actually,” he said, proudly. She looked closer, so he added, “in fact, it’s the highest grade of natural latex you can get. And the colours are very special.”
“They are…?”
“These colours will be trending next year. The fashion house assures me next year will be dominated by purple and pink in combination.”
“Goodness! Doris, make a note of that. Thank you, Tim. We’ll beat that in mind when we’re shopping for our new wardrobes.”
“No problem.”
“Could we…? I mean, would you mind if we took a couple of snaps? Perhaps a selfie?”
“Please, ladies. It would be my pleasure.”
He could never have spoken like that before ESDS…or before Shirley. He remembered how he had flunked Nicola’s first elocution class. But now… Not only was his outfit super cool, but he sounded classy and educated. He no longer stammered, or felt lost for words. He felt confident. Everyone was so pleasant and friendly, especially the more knowledgeable, mature women. Soon others were gathering round, complimenting him on his uniform.
“Tim, darling… “ one asked politely, extending a hand towards his shorts, “would you mind if I… They’re so well-tailored…”
“Not at all…”
She ran her fingertips down his flank.
“Laura. Feel that seam. Smooth as silk! And the frills! How on earth did they make them so perfectly regular? Who did you say it was?”
“Fantastex. You may have heard of them…”
“Yes, really amazing workmanship,” added her friend, Laura, teasingly tracing the front seam downwards from his belt buckle with a bejewelled fingernail, stopping short and bestowing the sweetest smile on him when she felt him tense with alarm. Soon ladies were queueing up to take photos, to chat and compliment him. Some were terribly discreet, other less so.
“Now I know what all the fuss was about!” commented one lady in a flowery dress, bending forward to admire his shorts. “What super little hot pants!”
Tim jibbed slightly at her calling them that.
“Well, they’re actually…” (“Actually” was becoming one of his favourite “classy” words.) “…they’re actually proper pageboy shorts. You can ask my outfitters, if you don’t believe me. They’re not far from here…”
“Oh, really?… Yes, I must go ask your outfitters, mustn’t I?”
The slight sarcasm was largely wasted on Tim’s swollen ego.
“Well Cynthia assures me that, to the best of her knowledge, this style of shorts is not available anywhere else in the country – and in latex, probably anywhere else in the world!”
He could have added “so there!” – but he just managed to stop himself.
Flowery dress decided to play along.
“Really? I believe you. I’ve never seen anything quite like them. Have you, Tracey?”
“I don’t think I have. Tim, darling… Please tell us. Where is Fantastex based? I would love to get something as unique as that for my daughter. I assume they do ladies’ clothing as well?”
This was all very gratifying. “Of course. I’d be delighted. Actually my aunt – see that lady over in the corner in the blue dress – she’s looking at us now – she can give you their business card.”
“Oh, perfect. Thank you.”
“Now if you’ll excuse me… I think these ladies are next…”
There was a female attendant by the door, a young woman in a crisp white blouse and smart black skirt. She was well-disciplined, and the only reaction she showed was a slight widening of the eyes, which Tim registered and took for surprised admiration.
“Sir…”
She opened the door with a slight inclination of the head, which he took for respect, but which in fact served to hide an irrepressible grin. He was feeling pleased with himself. In full uniform, gloves and all, even those who had already seen him would pay attention. He strode boldly into the crowded room, head erect, wearing a faintly superior smile.
This side of the ballroom was occupied mainly by guests who hadn’t been invited to the ceremony. He passed casually between the tables, looking around as if searching for someone. The buzz of conversation faded as he passed, replaced by a stunned silence, broken only by gasps, and a little cry of surprise from a woman somewhere behind him. Ahead of him two women on adjacent tables had been chatting. But when they saw him they stopped and stared, open-mouthed. He gave one a friendly, condescending smile, and was about to pass on when she spoke.
“Are you…the pageboy?”
He stopped. “I am, yes.”
“Oh…gosh…” She fought back the urge to burst out laughing. “We…we’ve heard so much…about you… Now I see why.” She blinked, and stared at his shorts. “What an…incredible – I mean, absolutely amazing, outfit… We’ve never actually seen a real pageboy in a real pageboy outfit. Have we, Eileen?” she added, addressing the woman across the aisle.
“No, never… What’s your name, young man?”
“I’m Tim.”
“You look…well, so smart. Deborah told us to check you out… I mean, to make sure we said hello… Can I ask… Your shorts… Is that vinyl?”
They were clearly impressed. And so were their neighbours, to judge by the clicking of camera shutters from the nearby tables.
“Latex, actually,” he said, proudly. She looked closer, so he added, “in fact, it’s the highest grade of natural latex you can get. And the colours are very special.”
“They are…?”
“These colours will be trending next year. The fashion house assures me next year will be dominated by purple and pink in combination.”
“Goodness! Doris, make a note of that. Thank you, Tim. We’ll beat that in mind when we’re shopping for our new wardrobes.”
“No problem.”
“Could we…? I mean, would you mind if we took a couple of snaps? Perhaps a selfie?”
“Please, ladies. It would be my pleasure.”
He could never have spoken like that before ESDS…or before Shirley. He remembered how he had flunked Nicola’s first elocution class. But now… Not only was his outfit super cool, but he sounded classy and educated. He no longer stammered, or felt lost for words. He felt confident. Everyone was so pleasant and friendly, especially the more knowledgeable, mature women. Soon others were gathering round, complimenting him on his uniform.
“Tim, darling… “ one asked politely, extending a hand towards his shorts, “would you mind if I… They’re so well-tailored…”
“Not at all…”
She ran her fingertips down his flank.
“Laura. Feel that seam. Smooth as silk! And the frills! How on earth did they make them so perfectly regular? Who did you say it was?”
“Fantastex. You may have heard of them…”
“Yes, really amazing workmanship,” added her friend, Laura, teasingly tracing the front seam downwards from his belt buckle with a bejewelled fingernail, stopping short and bestowing the sweetest smile on him when she felt him tense with alarm. Soon ladies were queueing up to take photos, to chat and compliment him. Some were terribly discreet, other less so.
“Now I know what all the fuss was about!” commented one lady in a flowery dress, bending forward to admire his shorts. “What super little hot pants!”
Tim jibbed slightly at her calling them that.
“Well, they’re actually…” (“Actually” was becoming one of his favourite “classy” words.) “…they’re actually proper pageboy shorts. You can ask my outfitters, if you don’t believe me. They’re not far from here…”
“Oh, really?… Yes, I must go ask your outfitters, mustn’t I?”
The slight sarcasm was largely wasted on Tim’s swollen ego.
“Well Cynthia assures me that, to the best of her knowledge, this style of shorts is not available anywhere else in the country – and in latex, probably anywhere else in the world!”
He could have added “so there!” – but he just managed to stop himself.
Flowery dress decided to play along.
“Really? I believe you. I’ve never seen anything quite like them. Have you, Tracey?”
“I don’t think I have. Tim, darling… Please tell us. Where is Fantastex based? I would love to get something as unique as that for my daughter. I assume they do ladies’ clothing as well?”
This was all very gratifying. “Of course. I’d be delighted. Actually my aunt – see that lady over in the corner in the blue dress – she’s looking at us now – she can give you their business card.”
“Oh, perfect. Thank you.”
“Now if you’ll excuse me… I think these ladies are next…”
7
Active Sissy Stories / Re: Philip’s Treatment Homage to Vicky’s, Lip Service by Wincy Willis/Khrissi Martin
« Last post by BabyJay on Yesterday at 10:15:59 AM »
Oh dear! I think Phillip is in more trouble than he realises. Trapped in bed after having a big drink can only end in one result, a very wet bed and pyjamas. I wonder what Mother will do now, nappies and plastic knickers?. Look forward to next episode. (:
8
Active Sissy Stories / Re: Philip’s Treatment Homage to Vicky’s, Lip Service by Wincy Willis/Khrissi Martin
« Last post by SissyCat on April 15, 2026, 01:48:58 PM »
Chapter Four
Philip’s mother steered him to the door and out to the car. She didn’t say a word, but Philip could feel the tension in her vice-like grip. She put him into the back seat and strapped on his seat belt. She got into the driver’s seat, let Mrs Swenson into the passenger side and started up the car. Philip sat unable to do anything but keep his head down and remain silent as the two women chatted. By the time they pulled up outside the Swenson home he was falling asleep.
“I am going into the house for a minute or two Philip, just you sit here and take your nap like a good boy.”
Philip went beetroot red with embarrassment at the suggestion he needed a nap and was surprised at how much this made the two women laugh.
True to her word his mother returned after a couple of minutes and once they started their journey home she began to speak.
”Your behaviour today was appalling Philip. Acting like a great big fussy baby, well if little Philip is going to act like a baby than he is going to be treated like a baby. Do you understand what mummy is saying?”
Philip wanted to argue but hadn’t seen his mother this angry in a long time. He could see her glare at him in the rear-view mirror so he just nodded his head. He didn’t have a clue what she actually meant.
”Mother is not sure that you understand the consequences of misbehaving. You have 24 hours. If you do exactly as you are told, with no argument or hesitation of any kind then Dr Peabody will get a good report. If not, Mother will tell Doctor Peabody that you’ve been a very naughty boy and very uncooperative!”
His Mother’s face softened and he could see her smile in the rear-view. “Dr Peabody gave mummy lots of advice concerning your treatment. She told me that if the strap and mittens don’t cure your problem behaviour, there’s lots of additional measure that can be taken.”
Her smile seemed to become smugger as she thought about these undisclosed “measures.”
Philip looked down at the bib and mittens. How could things get worse than this?
As they completed their journey, Philip formed a plan. All he had to do was be completely cooperative for one day. Just make it to tomorrow and get a good report from Mother so that Dr Peabody would ease up on his treatment and stop scheduling follow up appointments. If he could get a few days alone with Mother he was sure he would convince her that things were getting out of hand.
Philip stood silently as his Mother, with a pointed look at him, removed first one and then the other hand restraint. His hands felt cool in the air and he wiggled his fingers gratefully as Philip’s Mother grabbed his shoulders.
“I am quite tired out with your disgraceful childish behaviour so I am going to take Dr Peabody’s advice and put you to bed right now young man.”
Philip’s first instinct was to protest. It was barely lunchtime! His newly freed hands clenched into frustrated fists, but he quickly unclenched them. Concentrating on his plan he remained calm and obedient as she marched him by the shoulders into his bedroom and started undressing him.
Philip’s Mother continued removing his clothes until he was quite naked.
“Now don’t you dare move or make a sound,” she warned as she left the room. Philip made sure to stand quietly. She returned holding a pair of pyjamas. Not his normal paisley patterned winceyette pyjamas though; these were pale pink and printed with fluffy clouds!
His eyes made contact with his mothers as she held the pyjamas in front of him.
“There’s no need to look so surprised Philip. You heard Dr Peabody recommend you wear soothing pink pyjamas so I asked Mrs Swenson if Hyacinth had any old pairs that you could wear. That’s why I left you in the car. Hyacinth hasn’t worn these pyjamas for some years now; luckily they will fit you easily. They will keep you calm and soothed as Doctor Peabody recommended as well as being lovely and warm, see, aren’t they sweet?”
The very idea that he would have to wear Hyacinth Swenson’s cast-off pyjamas made him recoil in horror as she waved the pyjama jacket in front of his face.
“What have we discussed? His mother said sternly, “Not an ounce of defiance or Dr Peabody will hear of it,” she warned.
Philip’s mother dressed him in his new pink pyjamas. First buttoning him into the pyjama jacket and then stepping him into the pyjama bottoms. Hyacinth was much taller than Philip and her pyjamas were far too large for him. His mother had to tuck the jacket into the pyjama bottoms and pull them high up to his chest until he looked ridiculous.
“There, I am so pleased I could get you some pink pyjamas. Dr Peabody was correct; the pink pyjamas are already soothing you and keeping you calm. I will definitely have to buy you some so you can wear them all the time, pretty in pink pyjamas, that’s mother’s sweet little babykins will be from now on!”
Philip wanted to scream his objection to her plan but standing there in his pink pyjamas with the device strapped in his mouth he dare not risk getting a bad report. Picking up one of the pink mittens she watched intently for any sign of resistance or disobedience. Philip slid his hand into the pink ball. The inner lining gripped his clenched fingers snugly. Mother pulled the laces tight and tied a double bow with a flourish. She repeated the process on his right hand. Then came a fresh clean bib, she smartly tied the bib around his neck in a large bow and smoothed the front of his fresh bib against his pink pyjama top. His mother was obviously beside herself with satisfaction as she conducted this ritual slowly and methodically, her breathing controlled but slightly faster than normal.
Philip stood and endured this humiliation being visited upon him by his mother. He was seventeen years old and was wearing girls pink pyjamas and a pink bib. His hands were useless, encased as they were in Dr Peabody’s strange mittens and he was being forcibly made to suc-k continuously on a corrective device that was remarkably like a dummy.
“There now my angel, all ready for beddy-byes now aren’t we? Come along, in you go.”
Philip’s Mother pulled down his bedclothes and fluffed up his pillows. She patted the bottom sheet with the palm of her hand, beckoning Philip into bed. ”Into beddies my angel,” she cooed.
Philip, feeling very foolish climbed into bed. His Mother tucked the blankets tightly in, pinning him to the neck. She then left the room for a few minutes. Philip sat in the bed suc-king the dummy. When she returned she had a large glass filled to the brim with fruit juice. Mother placed it on the nightstand. She then took hold of Philip’s strap and eased it off the hook of the dummy. The pressure pushing it into his mouth finally ceased. Mother took the ring and slowly pulled it out of Philip’s mouth, and it gleamed wet with saliva as she placed it on the nightstand. Philip wiggled his jaw back and forth. The feeling of relief was exquisite.
His Mother placing the rim of the glass against his lips broke Philip’s reverie. He took the rim between his lips just as Mother started to tip the glass. The cold sweet liquid flowed into this mouth. It was refreshing at first, but was a bit more than he would have wanted. Mother held his head forward by the back of his neck. She continued to tilt the glass until Philip had drained it of every drop. Philip licked his lips as she placed the empty glass back on the nightstand and he relaxed against the pillows. But not for long, his Mother was in front of him holding his dummy!
Philip’s eyes darted to hers with a brief pleading glance. Philip could see Mother’s eyebrow begin to rise. He quickly opened his mouth wide. Mother slid the dummy back into his mouth until the “V” of the heart-shaped guard was once again nestled against the bottom of his nose. She pulled the strap into place and hooked it securely. Once again the rubber shaft was pressing deeply into Philip’s mouth. Mother smiled. She sat on the bed and smoothed the bedclothes over Philip’s chest and tummy.
“Now then, Mother is pleased with your behaviour so far but you must be punished for your earlier behaviour. So you’ll stay tucked up in beddybyes for the time being. Now be a good boy and suc-k quietly on your dummy.”
Mother got up and left, closing the door behind her. Philip lay in bed with his hands encased in their pink spherical prisons while his body was encased in pink, cloud motif pyjamas. Miserably he did as she suggested and suc-ked forlornly on his dummy.
Philip’s mother steered him to the door and out to the car. She didn’t say a word, but Philip could feel the tension in her vice-like grip. She put him into the back seat and strapped on his seat belt. She got into the driver’s seat, let Mrs Swenson into the passenger side and started up the car. Philip sat unable to do anything but keep his head down and remain silent as the two women chatted. By the time they pulled up outside the Swenson home he was falling asleep.
“I am going into the house for a minute or two Philip, just you sit here and take your nap like a good boy.”
Philip went beetroot red with embarrassment at the suggestion he needed a nap and was surprised at how much this made the two women laugh.
True to her word his mother returned after a couple of minutes and once they started their journey home she began to speak.
”Your behaviour today was appalling Philip. Acting like a great big fussy baby, well if little Philip is going to act like a baby than he is going to be treated like a baby. Do you understand what mummy is saying?”
Philip wanted to argue but hadn’t seen his mother this angry in a long time. He could see her glare at him in the rear-view mirror so he just nodded his head. He didn’t have a clue what she actually meant.
”Mother is not sure that you understand the consequences of misbehaving. You have 24 hours. If you do exactly as you are told, with no argument or hesitation of any kind then Dr Peabody will get a good report. If not, Mother will tell Doctor Peabody that you’ve been a very naughty boy and very uncooperative!”
His Mother’s face softened and he could see her smile in the rear-view. “Dr Peabody gave mummy lots of advice concerning your treatment. She told me that if the strap and mittens don’t cure your problem behaviour, there’s lots of additional measure that can be taken.”
Her smile seemed to become smugger as she thought about these undisclosed “measures.”
Philip looked down at the bib and mittens. How could things get worse than this?
As they completed their journey, Philip formed a plan. All he had to do was be completely cooperative for one day. Just make it to tomorrow and get a good report from Mother so that Dr Peabody would ease up on his treatment and stop scheduling follow up appointments. If he could get a few days alone with Mother he was sure he would convince her that things were getting out of hand.
Philip stood silently as his Mother, with a pointed look at him, removed first one and then the other hand restraint. His hands felt cool in the air and he wiggled his fingers gratefully as Philip’s Mother grabbed his shoulders.
“I am quite tired out with your disgraceful childish behaviour so I am going to take Dr Peabody’s advice and put you to bed right now young man.”
Philip’s first instinct was to protest. It was barely lunchtime! His newly freed hands clenched into frustrated fists, but he quickly unclenched them. Concentrating on his plan he remained calm and obedient as she marched him by the shoulders into his bedroom and started undressing him.
Philip’s Mother continued removing his clothes until he was quite naked.
“Now don’t you dare move or make a sound,” she warned as she left the room. Philip made sure to stand quietly. She returned holding a pair of pyjamas. Not his normal paisley patterned winceyette pyjamas though; these were pale pink and printed with fluffy clouds!
His eyes made contact with his mothers as she held the pyjamas in front of him.
“There’s no need to look so surprised Philip. You heard Dr Peabody recommend you wear soothing pink pyjamas so I asked Mrs Swenson if Hyacinth had any old pairs that you could wear. That’s why I left you in the car. Hyacinth hasn’t worn these pyjamas for some years now; luckily they will fit you easily. They will keep you calm and soothed as Doctor Peabody recommended as well as being lovely and warm, see, aren’t they sweet?”
The very idea that he would have to wear Hyacinth Swenson’s cast-off pyjamas made him recoil in horror as she waved the pyjama jacket in front of his face.
“What have we discussed? His mother said sternly, “Not an ounce of defiance or Dr Peabody will hear of it,” she warned.
Philip’s mother dressed him in his new pink pyjamas. First buttoning him into the pyjama jacket and then stepping him into the pyjama bottoms. Hyacinth was much taller than Philip and her pyjamas were far too large for him. His mother had to tuck the jacket into the pyjama bottoms and pull them high up to his chest until he looked ridiculous.
“There, I am so pleased I could get you some pink pyjamas. Dr Peabody was correct; the pink pyjamas are already soothing you and keeping you calm. I will definitely have to buy you some so you can wear them all the time, pretty in pink pyjamas, that’s mother’s sweet little babykins will be from now on!”
Philip wanted to scream his objection to her plan but standing there in his pink pyjamas with the device strapped in his mouth he dare not risk getting a bad report. Picking up one of the pink mittens she watched intently for any sign of resistance or disobedience. Philip slid his hand into the pink ball. The inner lining gripped his clenched fingers snugly. Mother pulled the laces tight and tied a double bow with a flourish. She repeated the process on his right hand. Then came a fresh clean bib, she smartly tied the bib around his neck in a large bow and smoothed the front of his fresh bib against his pink pyjama top. His mother was obviously beside herself with satisfaction as she conducted this ritual slowly and methodically, her breathing controlled but slightly faster than normal.
Philip stood and endured this humiliation being visited upon him by his mother. He was seventeen years old and was wearing girls pink pyjamas and a pink bib. His hands were useless, encased as they were in Dr Peabody’s strange mittens and he was being forcibly made to suc-k continuously on a corrective device that was remarkably like a dummy.
“There now my angel, all ready for beddy-byes now aren’t we? Come along, in you go.”
Philip’s Mother pulled down his bedclothes and fluffed up his pillows. She patted the bottom sheet with the palm of her hand, beckoning Philip into bed. ”Into beddies my angel,” she cooed.
Philip, feeling very foolish climbed into bed. His Mother tucked the blankets tightly in, pinning him to the neck. She then left the room for a few minutes. Philip sat in the bed suc-king the dummy. When she returned she had a large glass filled to the brim with fruit juice. Mother placed it on the nightstand. She then took hold of Philip’s strap and eased it off the hook of the dummy. The pressure pushing it into his mouth finally ceased. Mother took the ring and slowly pulled it out of Philip’s mouth, and it gleamed wet with saliva as she placed it on the nightstand. Philip wiggled his jaw back and forth. The feeling of relief was exquisite.
His Mother placing the rim of the glass against his lips broke Philip’s reverie. He took the rim between his lips just as Mother started to tip the glass. The cold sweet liquid flowed into this mouth. It was refreshing at first, but was a bit more than he would have wanted. Mother held his head forward by the back of his neck. She continued to tilt the glass until Philip had drained it of every drop. Philip licked his lips as she placed the empty glass back on the nightstand and he relaxed against the pillows. But not for long, his Mother was in front of him holding his dummy!
Philip’s eyes darted to hers with a brief pleading glance. Philip could see Mother’s eyebrow begin to rise. He quickly opened his mouth wide. Mother slid the dummy back into his mouth until the “V” of the heart-shaped guard was once again nestled against the bottom of his nose. She pulled the strap into place and hooked it securely. Once again the rubber shaft was pressing deeply into Philip’s mouth. Mother smiled. She sat on the bed and smoothed the bedclothes over Philip’s chest and tummy.
“Now then, Mother is pleased with your behaviour so far but you must be punished for your earlier behaviour. So you’ll stay tucked up in beddybyes for the time being. Now be a good boy and suc-k quietly on your dummy.”
Mother got up and left, closing the door behind her. Philip lay in bed with his hands encased in their pink spherical prisons while his body was encased in pink, cloud motif pyjamas. Miserably he did as she suggested and suc-ked forlornly on his dummy.
9
Active Sissy Stories / Re: Philip’s Treatment Homage to Vicky’s, Lip Service by Wincy Willis/Khrissi Martin
« Last post by babyian on April 15, 2026, 06:33:44 AM »
more please, will doctor be putting him in nappies and plastic baby pants at his next appointment
10
Active Sissy Stories / Re: Philip’s Treatment Homage to Vicky’s, Lip Service by Wincy Willis/Khrissi Martin
« Last post by Rostr90 on April 12, 2026, 09:16:44 AM »
Thank you SissyCat! You’re so kind to post this for us adoring fans. I really appreciate it ^.^
The more you give, the more I can give back.
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