Recent Posts
1
Active Sissy Stories / Re: Failed and Faulty
« Last post by antonia on Today at 03:32:25 AM »
Chapter 13
The next morning was one of disbelief as Suzanne woke up to the feeling of wet protective pants. Her fingers were all wrinkled where she had been suc-king them all night. She rushed to the shower and stripped off the pants and put them in a nappy bag. She got up, did her makeup and headed down to make early breakfast for Olivia and Norma. The women were seated at the table drinking coffee and eating toast.
“Have you put Andy in a disposable?” asked Olivia looking at the green plastic nappy sack.” I thought we agreed that he would always wear terry nappies”
Suzanne was caught out and was totally unprepared without an answer. Suddenly, she had some inspiration - “it’s my monthly, but I had a bit of a gusher” she explained “I hope you don’t mind but I borrowed one of your Tena pants”. She put the bag in the rubbish and went to make drink. Little did she know that her package was going to be examined by the women later. Nobody believed her excuse.
Andy stirred and Suzanne made her excuses and took her drink up to the nursery. She quickly got started on Andy and felt herself looking at his soft terry nappies with a sense of wishing. It was ridiculous, why would she want to put on one of his nappies? By the time it came to the soft vinyl plastic protection, she was really yearning to get in his pants.
The women left in Olivia’s car and Suzanne took nappies and pants into her room. She was in a turmoil, she had to be in a nappy and within five minutes she was wearing the same nappies as her charge. She and Andy went down for breakfast and by the time he had finished his bottle, it was back to his cot for a nap. She took one of his dummies out of the steriliser and without thinking took one for herself. Andy giggled as she put one in his mouth and the other in hers.
Suzanne felt the nappies rub against her in a sensual way and pulling up the cot rail, went to her own bed, pulled up her skirt and rubbed the front of her plastic panties until she was at the point of frenzy. She pushed down between her legs and triggered the start of an almighty orgasm. She suc-ked on her dummy as the rollercoaster of an orgasm began. She pulled out her wet dummy and used the rubber teat to rub her g-spot. She screamed out with the climax of pleasure.
The soft terry caressing her female sex triggered further orgasms as she tried to make her way back to the nursery. She ended up looking at the slumbering Andy as she rubbed herself against the post of his cot. Wave after wave of ecstasy swept over her.
She took a moment to come down from her high and every moment in her nappies, every rustle of her plastic pants caused a ripple of pleasure. She sat in the nursing chair in the nursery having turned on Andy’s music centre and picked up the mending she had started the day before. Andy would sleep for at least an hour, so she had some time on her own. As she sewed some lace back on a pair of nappy covers her mind had a violent flash back triggered by an instruction to “wet your nappy, you love being in wet nappies, you are a baby”. She was a toddler, maybe older, yes she was older, maybe four or five years old. Her mother had been very cross with her because she had wet herself as she was playing with her dollies, she was so engrossed in her game that old habits had taken over. No nappy, no training pants, just her brand new little girl pants with pretty lace and bows in delicate pink.
Her mother grabbed her by the arm and dragged her back to her bedroom where she was sat on her new big girl’s bed. She left for a moment and returned with a huge stack of fluffy white nappies that had been stored in the airing cupboard. On top of the pile, yellowing vinyl pants and nappy pins. Her panties were stripped off and she was put back in two thick nappies, securely pinned without powder or cream and the crackly pants pulled up her legs and settled snuggly over the towelling. Her memory was of a feeling of fear, letting her mother down, dread of being punished with smacking. However, once she was back in nappies she felt safe, secure and softly embraced. She didn’t have to worry about accidents, nothing would be damaged or hurt by her wetting or soiling. She was never told off for using her nappies because they were being used for their proper purpose.
Her mother told her that if she behaved like a baby then she would be treated like a baby. Suzanne took this as an instruction, it wasn’t a threat, she felt no humiliation because she had enjoyed the love and attention while she was in nappies and using them like a baby. She remembered most of all that she wanted her dummy and as an alternative used the fall back of suc-king her fingers. Her mother looked shocked and called her a big booby. Suzanne waddled off happily, pleased to be relieved of any toileting responsibilities and misinterpreting her mother’s intentions.
Suzanne mused on this flashback as she continued her stitching. She was changing the dress on one of her dolls and felt a pressure building deep inside her tummy. She hated the potty and she dreaded the big toilet, so with a little grunt and a small push she dropped a poo in the back of her nappy as she played with her doll. She got out the tea set and laid it out on the table. She sat on her bottom to arrange her guests round the table and paid no attention to the mess beneath her. It felt nice and warm.
She needed water for her teapot and went to the kitchen. Her mother immediately knew that Suzanne had soiled her nappy and shouted at her asking what she had done. It seemed a stupid question and the huge fuss made Suzanne so nervous that she started to wet her nappies as her furious mother watched on. She started to fill the teapot as her increasingly heavy nappies began to sag on her hips. Her mother looked on incredulous, had her daughter lost the plot? Did she not know that she was being punished by wearing nappies? She put the pot on the worktop and grabbed Suzanne’s hand dragging her quickly back to her bedroom. A towel was laid on her bed and she looked for a means to clean her up. She didn’t have baby wipes, but she found a tub of her nappy cream and they still had baby powder. She took all the nappies out of the airing cupboard and Suzanne couldn’t have been happier. The memory ran out.
She was back with the music in the room “lovely wet nappy, warm soft dirty nappies, go in your nappy” her brain was in tune with the messages, Norma’s earlier imprint was being activated as well. She looked at her sewing, the lace ruffle was fixed and she stood up to put the pants in the nappy covers drawer. She had a wave of satisfaction for a job well done. She really felt at peace today, the warm glow was still with her, but wait! There was a different type of warmth down below. No she couldn’t have. She pulled up her dress and put her hand down the front of her nappy, it was soaked. She broke into a big grin and she didn’t feel shame, she felt a sense of achievement, her nappies had been used for their proper purpose.
Olivia was on the web cam and talking on the phone to Norma.
2
Active Sissy Stories / Re: Failed and Faulty
« Last post by Baby Mac on Today at 12:09:08 AM »
Norma has her mind in her clutches and i hope its the beginning of her sinister control. I love using the victims past to condition there present and i hope she dose it to Andy sadistically. Please have her use Andy's past trauma to makes things scary and messed up. You are magnificent with thrilling stories please continue, thank you X.
3
Active Sissy Stories / Re: Failed and Faulty
« Last post by antonia on Yesterday at 09:56:08 PM »
Chapter 12
Olivia had watched events on the concealed nanny cam and was pleased at the way in which Suzanne was slowly working her way into the snare prepared for her. Tonight she would meet her special friend Norma who was a psychotherapist who used hypnotic suggestion as part of her treatment programme and had been heavily involved in Andy’s development.
Suzanne received the text on her phone. Make sure Andy is in bed by seven and don’t forget his favourite pink sleep bonnet. You did psychology before becoming a nanny, you are going to love my friend who will join us tonight. Please prepare dinner for the three of us, something simple will be fine.
She was intrigued and followed the instructions to the letter. The table was laid, she put on a clean uniform and had wine chilling in the fridge. Olivia arrived home with a tall raven haired woman who had piercing eyes and confident aura about her. She warmly greeted Suzanne who immediately felt at ease, although fascinated by the sparkling crystal pendant she had about her neck.
Norma was highly qualified and had an impressive cv, she showed great interest in Suzanne’s degree in psychology and was fascinated as to why she decided to go into specialist nursing as a nanny. The wine flowed, and it was decided that Norma would stay the night in the spare room, amazingly she had expected this might happen and had a small overnight case with her.
Suzanne declined coffee but accepted a glass of Bailey’s as a night cap. It was not as it was bottled, a tablet had been ground and added to the sweet liqueur that would make her receptive to suggestion.
Norma moved in with her crystal, twirling and swinging it like a pendulum. Deeper and deeper went Suzanne, as she was regressed back to her earliest cognitive years. A time of potty accidents, bedtime wetting and even a poopy accident in her training pants. Uncertainty was suggested with regard to her continence, she might easily have accidents again if the work became stressful. suc-king her fingers, or even a dummy might be useful on these occasions. Nobody would notice a little suc-king to make one feel better or calmer. If things got very stressful then maybe wearing some training pants or pull-ups might be the answer, in extreme cases maybe a terry nappy and plastic baby pants.
Slowly, Suzanne was brought back, she was told she would have no memory of the past hour. She came to and realised that she must have nodded off. Everybody was sympathetic because she worked so hard looking after Andy. She asked to be excused and made her way to her room. The smirks between Olivia and Norma were missed.
Suzanne took off her clothes and carefully put them away. She brushed her teeth and removed her makeup. She climbed into bed. Something was missing, but what was it? She felt vulnerable, but she could not put her finger on it. Silly! She hadn’t been for a wee, that was it, she needed to take a pee. She got out of bed and went into her en suite, then thought about things, she had been, and now she had nothing further to give. What if I wet the bed? That was the feeling, where did that come from? She hadn’t wet the bed for decades. She thought about the pull-ups under the bed, she would put one on to play safe, that wouldn’t hurt. Olivia and Norma watched the secret camera hidden in the room and were almost gleeful.
Suzanne fed her feet through the leg holes and pulled them up her legs into place. They felt wonderfully soft and the feeling of insecurity evaporated immediately. She snuggled into bed and was unaware that the two fingers on her right hand had slowly worked their way into her mouth. She quickly fell into a deep untroubled sleep.
In the early hours of the morning she wet the pull up and barely stirred as she suc-ked on her fingers.
Olivia had watched events on the concealed nanny cam and was pleased at the way in which Suzanne was slowly working her way into the snare prepared for her. Tonight she would meet her special friend Norma who was a psychotherapist who used hypnotic suggestion as part of her treatment programme and had been heavily involved in Andy’s development.
Suzanne received the text on her phone. Make sure Andy is in bed by seven and don’t forget his favourite pink sleep bonnet. You did psychology before becoming a nanny, you are going to love my friend who will join us tonight. Please prepare dinner for the three of us, something simple will be fine.
She was intrigued and followed the instructions to the letter. The table was laid, she put on a clean uniform and had wine chilling in the fridge. Olivia arrived home with a tall raven haired woman who had piercing eyes and confident aura about her. She warmly greeted Suzanne who immediately felt at ease, although fascinated by the sparkling crystal pendant she had about her neck.
Norma was highly qualified and had an impressive cv, she showed great interest in Suzanne’s degree in psychology and was fascinated as to why she decided to go into specialist nursing as a nanny. The wine flowed, and it was decided that Norma would stay the night in the spare room, amazingly she had expected this might happen and had a small overnight case with her.
Suzanne declined coffee but accepted a glass of Bailey’s as a night cap. It was not as it was bottled, a tablet had been ground and added to the sweet liqueur that would make her receptive to suggestion.
Norma moved in with her crystal, twirling and swinging it like a pendulum. Deeper and deeper went Suzanne, as she was regressed back to her earliest cognitive years. A time of potty accidents, bedtime wetting and even a poopy accident in her training pants. Uncertainty was suggested with regard to her continence, she might easily have accidents again if the work became stressful. suc-king her fingers, or even a dummy might be useful on these occasions. Nobody would notice a little suc-king to make one feel better or calmer. If things got very stressful then maybe wearing some training pants or pull-ups might be the answer, in extreme cases maybe a terry nappy and plastic baby pants.
Slowly, Suzanne was brought back, she was told she would have no memory of the past hour. She came to and realised that she must have nodded off. Everybody was sympathetic because she worked so hard looking after Andy. She asked to be excused and made her way to her room. The smirks between Olivia and Norma were missed.
Suzanne took off her clothes and carefully put them away. She brushed her teeth and removed her makeup. She climbed into bed. Something was missing, but what was it? She felt vulnerable, but she could not put her finger on it. Silly! She hadn’t been for a wee, that was it, she needed to take a pee. She got out of bed and went into her en suite, then thought about things, she had been, and now she had nothing further to give. What if I wet the bed? That was the feeling, where did that come from? She hadn’t wet the bed for decades. She thought about the pull-ups under the bed, she would put one on to play safe, that wouldn’t hurt. Olivia and Norma watched the secret camera hidden in the room and were almost gleeful.
Suzanne fed her feet through the leg holes and pulled them up her legs into place. They felt wonderfully soft and the feeling of insecurity evaporated immediately. She snuggled into bed and was unaware that the two fingers on her right hand had slowly worked their way into her mouth. She quickly fell into a deep untroubled sleep.
In the early hours of the morning she wet the pull up and barely stirred as she suc-ked on her fingers.
4
Active Sissy Stories / Re: Failed and Faulty
« Last post by Baby Mac on Yesterday at 07:30:00 PM »
Like always well told and making us want more
5
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on Yesterday at 07:41:47 AM »
Chapter 369.
The women stood up and looked at each other open-mouthed. All except for Connie, who sat smiling like a Cheshire cat. That Rose-Stim stuff wasn’t a scam after all. She’d definitely use it again. She stood up with the others, and they approached the little tableau playing out on the other side of the coffee-table. Tim’s climax was fading now, and he was down on all fours, panting like an exhausted puppy.
Connie winked. “I warned you, Kit… Fireworks.”
The others gathered round. Frieda led a little round of applause, much to Tim’s irritation as he slowly returned to reality.
“Super show, Tim,” she laughed. “When are you going to do Kit’s other boot? I definitely want to be here for round two!”
He was too embarrassed to stand up and face them. But he needed to move. A bead of sticky fluid had escaped from one leg of his shorts and way making its way down the inside of his thigh.
“C-could I, er, have a tissue, please, miss?”
Connie fetched a handful from a box on the sideboard, taking the opportunity to collect her phone and stop the video. Now she had photos and a video. But she wasn’t finished yet. The more material the better. She handed them to Tim. Despite the tightness of the leg bands, his shorts were leaking now from several places, and one sticky rivulet had reached the top of his sock. He was a mess. The ladies didn’t even bother to hide their amusement.
“Thank you, miss Connie…”
Good boy, she thought, always polite.
He struggled to his feet, cheeks glowing, wiping his legs with bunches of slimy tissue, and made his way awkwardly, thighs pressed tightly together, to the bathroom. The ladies collapsed in with laughter. Kit allowed herself a faint smile.
“Oh my god, did you see the state of him?” cried Bridget. “Must have been half a pint! Kit, darling, it’s all your fault – you know that, yeah?”
“I hope so…”
“He’s infatuated,” grinned Frieda. “Kit, you have a ready-made slave there. I’m sure he’d do anything you told him to. Absolutely anything.”
“Right,” added Bridget. “We didn’t really get to see the whole thing. Only the last act. Next time, make him put on a little show for us, would you?”
“Oh, you mean…” began Maxine. “Like, solo…?”
“Yes. Why not? All she’d have to do is pose for him. He can’t take his eyes off her.”
“Interesting idea,” mused Connie. “But today I think he needs to recharge. Let’s have tea, let him recover, then maybe we could get him to model some of the other outfits I have for him. I’ll go and help him, and get his clothes in the wash…”
Bridget made tea for everyone. She and Frieda had made cakes, and Connie too, so there was plenty to eat. Tim reappeared wrapped in a turquoise gown. He was naturally still a bit embarrassed at first, but once seated, with tea and cakes in his hands, and Kit next to him with a reassuring hand on his thigh, he chilled out and even smiled. Everyone was very discreet, secretly hoping that more displays may be forthcoming, and not wanting to scare him off.
They chatted away happily. Kit, now regarded as the source and instigator of their entertainment, was accepted into the club. After a while Connie made a suggestion.
“Tim, I’m sure you’ve had enough of being a pageboy for one day. Why don’t you try a couple of your other costumes?”
He looked at her suspiciously.
“Do you mean…girly stuff, miss?”
“Don’t say it like that! You’re supposed to be my maid – remember? I’m not even talking about that. You have a beautiful dress, and there’s other things that are virtually unisex. Kit, what do you think?”
“Tim, I love to see you in dress. I love boy who brave enough to wear dress. It is my fantasy…”
Tim immediately sat up and took notice. “Really, miss? Truly?”
Kit nodded, and gave him a look that said, “try me, if you have the nerve…”
“I’ll bring some things down,” said Connie, jumping up.
She was back a few minutes later, with an armful of clothes.
“This is a lovely dress…” she cooed. “It’s the pale pink version of the white floral one you modelled at Pitt’s Wood. That one was my favourite then, but I think I like this even better.”
“Oh, yes…I remember…”
“Come next door to the big living room. You can change and I’ll do your makeup. Let’s see if Kit can recognise you.”
Tim smiled. “Okay.” Dressing as a girl wasn’t so bad when you could look really pretty and wear amazing clothes. And if Kit was into it…
Connie used the subtlest makeup, and a little hair gel, to give him a really cool, slightly spikey, look. She took the opportunity to fill him in about Jenny.
“I heard your new girlfriend was devastated about not being able to talk to you for two weeks.”
Tim looked at her sharply, uncertain what was coming.
“She was?”
“Yes, of course. It must have been a shock. Just as you’d started dating, and no warning…”
She watched his reaction carefully. As she suspected, he didn’t seem quite so concerned as one might have suspected.
“So earlier I called her…”
He stared at her in surprise. “You called her…?”
“Yes. I didn’t tell her the whole truth, of course. I said we were fashion designers, and that we had employed you as a model and domestic help, and that usually our employees were not allowed to contact outsiders due to commercial secrecy.”
“You said that?”
“Well, it’s half true, and it explains everything. We’re called CFBM Couture – that’s Connie, Frieda, Bridget and Maxine. Remember that in case she asks. Think of a phrase. Say, “Come for brunch, miss”. But I said, given the exceptional circ-umstances…”
“Exceptional circ-umstances…?”
“You know, that you’d only just started a relationship, and suddenly you’re snatched away.”
“Oh, yeah…”
“Given all that, you’d be allowed one fifteen minute phone call every evening. The first one’s tonight. You should call her. What time did she say? Nine. Yes, nine. But strictly fifteen minutes, okay? Happy now?”
“Oh, yeah…I guess…”
“You don’t seem very happy…”
“No, I am. Yeah, great. Thank you, miss…”
Connie compressed her lips, to hide a faint smile. So, the great romance may not be all it was made out to be. Pity. But he was still under an obligation to her, and the phone calls could only reinforce that…
She applied a hint of blusher.
“You know what you look like? You look like an exceptionally pretty girl whose adopted a tomboy style. I reckon most people would think you were female. Either way, you’re drop dead gorgeous. Wait till Kit sees you.”
“Do you reckon, miss?”
Now that was something he was interested in.
“There. All done. Now, just wait. Now I’m going to go back first. Give us a minute or two, then follow. Remember you’re a girl. Walk as if you were a maid, as you were trained to do.”
“Yes, miss. Of course.”
When he made his entrance, there was general wonderment.
“My god, Tim…” exclaimed Bridget. “You look totally different… I mean, stunning, actually…”
Kit was standing apart, by the French doors.
“What do you think, Kit?” asked Connie. “Tim - go over there in the light, so she can have a proper look at you.”
Tim made his way over, wobbling a little on his heels, and looking very self-conscious. Kit didn’t say anything. She didn’t smile. She just watched him as he approached. He stood before her, head lowered. She touched his arm.
“You are beautiful,” she murmured, “more than boy Tim even…”
Then she put her arms around him, and drew him to her…
The women stood up and looked at each other open-mouthed. All except for Connie, who sat smiling like a Cheshire cat. That Rose-Stim stuff wasn’t a scam after all. She’d definitely use it again. She stood up with the others, and they approached the little tableau playing out on the other side of the coffee-table. Tim’s climax was fading now, and he was down on all fours, panting like an exhausted puppy.
Connie winked. “I warned you, Kit… Fireworks.”
The others gathered round. Frieda led a little round of applause, much to Tim’s irritation as he slowly returned to reality.
“Super show, Tim,” she laughed. “When are you going to do Kit’s other boot? I definitely want to be here for round two!”
He was too embarrassed to stand up and face them. But he needed to move. A bead of sticky fluid had escaped from one leg of his shorts and way making its way down the inside of his thigh.
“C-could I, er, have a tissue, please, miss?”
Connie fetched a handful from a box on the sideboard, taking the opportunity to collect her phone and stop the video. Now she had photos and a video. But she wasn’t finished yet. The more material the better. She handed them to Tim. Despite the tightness of the leg bands, his shorts were leaking now from several places, and one sticky rivulet had reached the top of his sock. He was a mess. The ladies didn’t even bother to hide their amusement.
“Thank you, miss Connie…”
Good boy, she thought, always polite.
He struggled to his feet, cheeks glowing, wiping his legs with bunches of slimy tissue, and made his way awkwardly, thighs pressed tightly together, to the bathroom. The ladies collapsed in with laughter. Kit allowed herself a faint smile.
“Oh my god, did you see the state of him?” cried Bridget. “Must have been half a pint! Kit, darling, it’s all your fault – you know that, yeah?”
“I hope so…”
“He’s infatuated,” grinned Frieda. “Kit, you have a ready-made slave there. I’m sure he’d do anything you told him to. Absolutely anything.”
“Right,” added Bridget. “We didn’t really get to see the whole thing. Only the last act. Next time, make him put on a little show for us, would you?”
“Oh, you mean…” began Maxine. “Like, solo…?”
“Yes. Why not? All she’d have to do is pose for him. He can’t take his eyes off her.”
“Interesting idea,” mused Connie. “But today I think he needs to recharge. Let’s have tea, let him recover, then maybe we could get him to model some of the other outfits I have for him. I’ll go and help him, and get his clothes in the wash…”
Bridget made tea for everyone. She and Frieda had made cakes, and Connie too, so there was plenty to eat. Tim reappeared wrapped in a turquoise gown. He was naturally still a bit embarrassed at first, but once seated, with tea and cakes in his hands, and Kit next to him with a reassuring hand on his thigh, he chilled out and even smiled. Everyone was very discreet, secretly hoping that more displays may be forthcoming, and not wanting to scare him off.
They chatted away happily. Kit, now regarded as the source and instigator of their entertainment, was accepted into the club. After a while Connie made a suggestion.
“Tim, I’m sure you’ve had enough of being a pageboy for one day. Why don’t you try a couple of your other costumes?”
He looked at her suspiciously.
“Do you mean…girly stuff, miss?”
“Don’t say it like that! You’re supposed to be my maid – remember? I’m not even talking about that. You have a beautiful dress, and there’s other things that are virtually unisex. Kit, what do you think?”
“Tim, I love to see you in dress. I love boy who brave enough to wear dress. It is my fantasy…”
Tim immediately sat up and took notice. “Really, miss? Truly?”
Kit nodded, and gave him a look that said, “try me, if you have the nerve…”
“I’ll bring some things down,” said Connie, jumping up.
She was back a few minutes later, with an armful of clothes.
“This is a lovely dress…” she cooed. “It’s the pale pink version of the white floral one you modelled at Pitt’s Wood. That one was my favourite then, but I think I like this even better.”
“Oh, yes…I remember…”
“Come next door to the big living room. You can change and I’ll do your makeup. Let’s see if Kit can recognise you.”
Tim smiled. “Okay.” Dressing as a girl wasn’t so bad when you could look really pretty and wear amazing clothes. And if Kit was into it…
Connie used the subtlest makeup, and a little hair gel, to give him a really cool, slightly spikey, look. She took the opportunity to fill him in about Jenny.
“I heard your new girlfriend was devastated about not being able to talk to you for two weeks.”
Tim looked at her sharply, uncertain what was coming.
“She was?”
“Yes, of course. It must have been a shock. Just as you’d started dating, and no warning…”
She watched his reaction carefully. As she suspected, he didn’t seem quite so concerned as one might have suspected.
“So earlier I called her…”
He stared at her in surprise. “You called her…?”
“Yes. I didn’t tell her the whole truth, of course. I said we were fashion designers, and that we had employed you as a model and domestic help, and that usually our employees were not allowed to contact outsiders due to commercial secrecy.”
“You said that?”
“Well, it’s half true, and it explains everything. We’re called CFBM Couture – that’s Connie, Frieda, Bridget and Maxine. Remember that in case she asks. Think of a phrase. Say, “Come for brunch, miss”. But I said, given the exceptional circ-umstances…”
“Exceptional circ-umstances…?”
“You know, that you’d only just started a relationship, and suddenly you’re snatched away.”
“Oh, yeah…”
“Given all that, you’d be allowed one fifteen minute phone call every evening. The first one’s tonight. You should call her. What time did she say? Nine. Yes, nine. But strictly fifteen minutes, okay? Happy now?”
“Oh, yeah…I guess…”
“You don’t seem very happy…”
“No, I am. Yeah, great. Thank you, miss…”
Connie compressed her lips, to hide a faint smile. So, the great romance may not be all it was made out to be. Pity. But he was still under an obligation to her, and the phone calls could only reinforce that…
She applied a hint of blusher.
“You know what you look like? You look like an exceptionally pretty girl whose adopted a tomboy style. I reckon most people would think you were female. Either way, you’re drop dead gorgeous. Wait till Kit sees you.”
“Do you reckon, miss?”
Now that was something he was interested in.
“There. All done. Now, just wait. Now I’m going to go back first. Give us a minute or two, then follow. Remember you’re a girl. Walk as if you were a maid, as you were trained to do.”
“Yes, miss. Of course.”
When he made his entrance, there was general wonderment.
“My god, Tim…” exclaimed Bridget. “You look totally different… I mean, stunning, actually…”
Kit was standing apart, by the French doors.
“What do you think, Kit?” asked Connie. “Tim - go over there in the light, so she can have a proper look at you.”
Tim made his way over, wobbling a little on his heels, and looking very self-conscious. Kit didn’t say anything. She didn’t smile. She just watched him as he approached. He stood before her, head lowered. She touched his arm.
“You are beautiful,” she murmured, “more than boy Tim even…”
Then she put her arms around him, and drew him to her…
6
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on Yesterday at 07:32:57 AM »
Chapter 368.
She sipped her wine unconcernedly, exchanging the odd remark with the ladies, but she was watching him carefully out of the corner of her eye. Despite his discomfort, for the first ten minutes or so he worked diligently and professionally. It was obvious he was highly experienced. She thought that as well as being a most desirable pet, he could be very useful in helping to maintain her wardrobe. She could see why Connie was interested in some more permanent arrangement. But so was she. She was considering various strategies, when she noticed for the first time that the front of his shorts was stretched like a tent over a tentpole. She showed no reaction, but felt a little thrill of delight that even merely servicing her boots – aided by the Rose-Stim, of course - could have such a gratifyingly arousing effect. She noticed also that when he turned to one side to load more cream onto the cloth, the head of his boyhood, clearly outlined under the thin latex membrane, would slide to the other side, making him flinch, then back again as he resumed polishing. Occasionally he was forced to stop, and bite his lip. These occurrences became more frequent, slowing the progress of his work. He gulped, and squirmed uncomfortably. After a while, she realised he must be closer to the edge than she had thought possible. She wondered if… It would be so cool if he actually… Right there at her feet…
She leant forward and patted his cheek with her hand, letting it linger so he could inhale the scent of her latex glove.
“Good boy… You do such good job…”
Even in the boot parlour, in all those sessions, he’d never got in such a state. Under the influence of the stimulant, with which the oozing head of his coc-k was now coated, his erection felt as if it was vibrating… He was on the very edge, but still fighting to regain control. He paused, hoping to gather his resources..
“Don’t stop Tim. There is other boot too…” teased Kit.
She drained her glass and leant down to put in on the floor, taking the opportunity to give his thigh an affectionate squeeze. The shock of feeling her gloved hand on his bare flesh was too much. He gasped, moaned…and capitulated.
“Oh…ah… No… Oh, gosh!”
Even the first throes of orgasm he didn’t forget his elocution training, and managed to substitute the expletive with the first word that came to mind. Kit laughed. “Gosh!” That must be the cutest reaction to a massive climax ever recorded! But with that first explosion of pleasure, every ounce of energy he had left drained from his body. He slipped forward till his head was resting on Kit’s leg, his hand still clutching the toe of her boot, his body jolted with spasm after spasm.
Oh, but the relief! The overwhelming, intense pleasure as warm c-um flooded his tight rubber pants. In between spurts he tried to apologise.
“M-miss, I…oh…I’m s-sorry…oh…I’m really…oh my god….”
Maxine had risen from her seat, seeking a better view. “W-what’s he doing? He’s not…?”
“What’s happening?” queried Bridget, excitedly. “Kit? Is he really…?”
Kit didn’t take her eyes off him for a moment. “I think big pop…” was all she said.
She sipped her wine unconcernedly, exchanging the odd remark with the ladies, but she was watching him carefully out of the corner of her eye. Despite his discomfort, for the first ten minutes or so he worked diligently and professionally. It was obvious he was highly experienced. She thought that as well as being a most desirable pet, he could be very useful in helping to maintain her wardrobe. She could see why Connie was interested in some more permanent arrangement. But so was she. She was considering various strategies, when she noticed for the first time that the front of his shorts was stretched like a tent over a tentpole. She showed no reaction, but felt a little thrill of delight that even merely servicing her boots – aided by the Rose-Stim, of course - could have such a gratifyingly arousing effect. She noticed also that when he turned to one side to load more cream onto the cloth, the head of his boyhood, clearly outlined under the thin latex membrane, would slide to the other side, making him flinch, then back again as he resumed polishing. Occasionally he was forced to stop, and bite his lip. These occurrences became more frequent, slowing the progress of his work. He gulped, and squirmed uncomfortably. After a while, she realised he must be closer to the edge than she had thought possible. She wondered if… It would be so cool if he actually… Right there at her feet…
She leant forward and patted his cheek with her hand, letting it linger so he could inhale the scent of her latex glove.
“Good boy… You do such good job…”
Even in the boot parlour, in all those sessions, he’d never got in such a state. Under the influence of the stimulant, with which the oozing head of his coc-k was now coated, his erection felt as if it was vibrating… He was on the very edge, but still fighting to regain control. He paused, hoping to gather his resources..
“Don’t stop Tim. There is other boot too…” teased Kit.
She drained her glass and leant down to put in on the floor, taking the opportunity to give his thigh an affectionate squeeze. The shock of feeling her gloved hand on his bare flesh was too much. He gasped, moaned…and capitulated.
“Oh…ah… No… Oh, gosh!”
Even the first throes of orgasm he didn’t forget his elocution training, and managed to substitute the expletive with the first word that came to mind. Kit laughed. “Gosh!” That must be the cutest reaction to a massive climax ever recorded! But with that first explosion of pleasure, every ounce of energy he had left drained from his body. He slipped forward till his head was resting on Kit’s leg, his hand still clutching the toe of her boot, his body jolted with spasm after spasm.
Oh, but the relief! The overwhelming, intense pleasure as warm c-um flooded his tight rubber pants. In between spurts he tried to apologise.
“M-miss, I…oh…I’m s-sorry…oh…I’m really…oh my god….”
Maxine had risen from her seat, seeking a better view. “W-what’s he doing? He’s not…?”
“What’s happening?” queried Bridget, excitedly. “Kit? Is he really…?”
Kit didn’t take her eyes off him for a moment. “I think big pop…” was all she said.
7
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on Yesterday at 07:08:06 AM »
Chapter 367.
A moment later he came scurrying back, clutching a couple of glass pots and some cloths. He headed straight for the sofa, selected a cloth and one of the pots, turned and addressed Kit. He was clearly excited, and blushing more than ever.
“Miss? I’ve got the polish. I’m ready any time you are!”
Kit smiled. She’d taken advantage of his absence to refill her glass, and now made her way over and sat down. He dropped to his knees in front of her, heart pounding and hands trembling. He put the pot down beside him, and picked up a small blob of leather soap on the cloth.
“Miss, I’ll do two applications. First I’ll use a little saddle soap to clean off any surface dirt, then I’ll use the leather cream. Then after a minute or two I’ll polish an finish them.”
He began work. The ladies craned their heads to watch, but they were too far away.
“Why don’t you come into the extension area,” suggested Connie. “The we can sit by the window and watch.”
“Yes, please do,” added Bridget. “I’ve never seen a real boot boy at work.”
“Shall we?”
Kit rose and headed for the extension. Tim followed, holding his equipment in front of him, hiding the growing bulge in his shorts. Kit’s lingering kiss had fractured his self-control, the Rose-Stim was taking effect, and the anticipation of getting his hands on Kit’s beautiful clumpy boots did the rest. Kit sat down, and he quickly fell to his knees again, concealing his erection, hoping no-one had noticed. Connie unostentatiously propped her phone on a sideboard, then joined the ladies, who seated themselves by the window, chatting excitedly like kids in the cinema before the film starts. Kit relaxed and sipped her wine. He resumed work, starting at the toes. Having superficially cleaned one boot, he opened the pot of cream. It was white and slimy. He tried to focus on his task. For a while he was doing okay. But after a few minutes, whether it was his proximity to Kit herself, or the pungent scent of her latex suit, or the sensation of smearing cream onto her legs, his arousal began to grow, and he was finding it increasingly difficult to keep it under control. From where they were sitting, the ladies were unaware of his excitement. Indeed, Connie was thinking that the Rose-Stim must be a just a scam. Kit however, despite showing no outward signs, could tell from his burning cheeks and trembling hands that he was far from relaxed.
A moment later he came scurrying back, clutching a couple of glass pots and some cloths. He headed straight for the sofa, selected a cloth and one of the pots, turned and addressed Kit. He was clearly excited, and blushing more than ever.
“Miss? I’ve got the polish. I’m ready any time you are!”
Kit smiled. She’d taken advantage of his absence to refill her glass, and now made her way over and sat down. He dropped to his knees in front of her, heart pounding and hands trembling. He put the pot down beside him, and picked up a small blob of leather soap on the cloth.
“Miss, I’ll do two applications. First I’ll use a little saddle soap to clean off any surface dirt, then I’ll use the leather cream. Then after a minute or two I’ll polish an finish them.”
He began work. The ladies craned their heads to watch, but they were too far away.
“Why don’t you come into the extension area,” suggested Connie. “The we can sit by the window and watch.”
“Yes, please do,” added Bridget. “I’ve never seen a real boot boy at work.”
“Shall we?”
Kit rose and headed for the extension. Tim followed, holding his equipment in front of him, hiding the growing bulge in his shorts. Kit’s lingering kiss had fractured his self-control, the Rose-Stim was taking effect, and the anticipation of getting his hands on Kit’s beautiful clumpy boots did the rest. Kit sat down, and he quickly fell to his knees again, concealing his erection, hoping no-one had noticed. Connie unostentatiously propped her phone on a sideboard, then joined the ladies, who seated themselves by the window, chatting excitedly like kids in the cinema before the film starts. Kit relaxed and sipped her wine. He resumed work, starting at the toes. Having superficially cleaned one boot, he opened the pot of cream. It was white and slimy. He tried to focus on his task. For a while he was doing okay. But after a few minutes, whether it was his proximity to Kit herself, or the pungent scent of her latex suit, or the sensation of smearing cream onto her legs, his arousal began to grow, and he was finding it increasingly difficult to keep it under control. From where they were sitting, the ladies were unaware of his excitement. Indeed, Connie was thinking that the Rose-Stim must be a just a scam. Kit however, despite showing no outward signs, could tell from his burning cheeks and trembling hands that he was far from relaxed.
8
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on Yesterday at 06:59:14 AM »
Chapter 366.
Connie adopted a relaxed smile and walked casually into the living room. Her friends were sitting together around a coffee-table, talking amongst themselves. Tim and Kit were standing apart from them, but close to each other, by the French door. A single glance showed her everything she needed to know. In her outfit Kit looked like a snake – a glossy black snake – eyes locked onto Tim’s, whilst he returned a stare of adoration, like a puppy with its mistress.
For now it was necessary that she break the spell.
“Kit!” Kit turned her head sharply. “I wanted to ask your advice about something. Shall we go into the kitchen?”
Kit momentarily inclined her head, and without a word to Tim, turned and walked away, leaving him looking bereft. Connie led her into the kitchen and closed the door.
“Kit. First of all, I want to say how glad I am you came to visit. Tim obviously adores you. Now, I’ll be frank.”
Kit’s expression betrayed nothing, but Connie wondered if she was expecting cautionary advice. If she were, however, she was not about to get any. Quite the opposite.
“As far as I’m concerned, anything or anyone that can tighten the bonds which I’m trying to weave around him is welcome here.”
Kit looked slightly puzzled. “You weaving bonds…?”
“Ah. I should explain fully. I don’t know how much Robyn told you…”
“She say you have new maid – “cute sissy boy maid” – and I should come see him. Tim is delighted – no, delightful boy. I never expect such a thing here in English countryside, where people are so… conservative? I’m excited as soon as I see him…”
“Well, I and my friends also love young men like Tim, who recognise the innate superiority of women, and only wish to serve them. Fortunately we have a training agency for boys like Tim right on our doorstep. It’s called ESDS – Egerton’s Special Domestic Services. Cassandra Egerton is one of my closest friends. We, and others like us, represent the ultimate goal and practical manifestation of their training – though we regard our role not only as clients, but also as associates whose vision it is to continue and to help perfect that training.”
As Connie spoke, the expression on Kit’s face had slowly morphed from uncertainty to enlightenment. “Now I see all! You are doing very good job, Mrs Brookshaw. I would love help you…”
“I would love you to help. I think you can wind that boy around your little finger.”
“Where did he come from?”
“Ah. That’s another story. He was working as a boot boy at Pitt’s Wood Equestrian Centre.”
Kit looked puzzled. “Boot boy...?”
His job was to clean all the girls’ boots. He and his friend Bobby have a special place there, all equipped so that a girl or a woman can come in and sit comfortably while the boys kneel and clean and polish their boots. They were made to wear cute little latex outfits, most recently like pageboys. The customers loved them. Serena – that’s Cassandra’s daughter – went there in thigh boots and a latex catsuit! She got quite a response. They even have their own apartment. They were always busy - they had more customers than they could handle really - but from what I hear they enjoyed every minute.”
Kit smiled. “So Tim could…clean my boots if I asked him…”
“Haven’t you seen him staring at them? I doubt he’s ever serviced boots like that before. Especially on a girl sheathed entirely in shiny black latex. If he does, expect fireworks, darling…”
“Fireworks?”
Connie grinned. “You know, little bangs and whizzes and pops. Maybe a big pop.”
“Big pop? Would he do big pop?”
“If you’re lucky…” She held up the little bottle of Rose-Stim. “Do you know what this is? I sprayed his shorts earlier…”
Kit’s face lit up. She knew very well. “You very naughty lady, miss Connie…”
“Not as naughty as you, miss Kit. In any case, I gather he’s been in training all the week, so he’s probably in need of a little relief by now. I’ll leave it to you. There’s plenty of cloths and leather cream.”
“My boots do need polish…”
“Go for it, then. But I’m really curious about you, Kit. Can you tell me something about yourself?”
“Ah, yes. Of course. I rather rude, not introduce myself properly. Well, where to start? I born and brought up in Czech Republic, yes? No father, mother leave when I little, grandmother look after me. We live in village. No future there. Then I go into local beauty competition…and win! Miss Katerinice 2021. Man from UK there in audience, very smart, suit and tie, look wealthy, he offer me job in London, modelling. Very exciting. Grandmother tell me, “go, go silly girl…make fortune in UK”. He fly me to London, we go to very busy place in city, to studio high up in tall building, all glass and steel… He work for big company… Onassis…? Onanni? Something. Lots of girls. I specialise in leather, latex. Just pose, videos… Nothing bad. A few times have to hit men with whip, put on lead… Things like that. I enjoy. Good pay. Stay there eighteen months. Then trouble with other girls. I get more pay than them, they jealous. Then I move to new agency. Private work… I meet girl there – Marguerite. French. We like each other very much. They want us have sex with men, we say no, they try to bully us, so we leave one night, take train, end up here. We not know what to do. Then meet another girl in bar. Jo. She want to leave home, but no money. But we have saved, we have money. So we team up. She know her way around. We find apartment, now all live together. Very nice, very comfortable. We get jobs to pay rent, bills. Me, I work four days as receptionist in law firm. Also study. I will take law exam in year or two, hope to become lawyer.”
“Wow. Quite a story. How old are you now?”
“Nineteen. Twenty next June. Can I ask…how old Tim?”
“He was eighteen on the first. He doesn’t know we know. For various reasons he wants to keep it a secret as long as possible. But he couldn’t lie to Miss Poole – she’s the principal of Pitt’s Wood Equestrian Centre - though he swore her to secrecy. But Miss Poole’s on the board of ESDS, and her first duty is to the directors. They’ll ask him to sign a new contract now he’s of age, which he doesn’t want to do. As soon as I saw him I wanted him for myself, my permanent maid. Maybe I’ll be able to come to some arrangement, whether he stays at ESDS or not. But it would be helpful to have something on him, if you know what I mean.”
“On him…?”
“You know… Something he wouldn’t like others – his new girlfriend for instance - to find out about… Would you be prepared to help, maybe…?”
“Ah, yes. I understand. Yes, miss Connie, I love to help you! Tim is so cute…so sweet and innocent. I never feel attracted to boys usually. Can’t wait to see him as real girl, sissy maid. But he sexy just in little hotpants outfit. Robyn show me photos of wedding… So cute… Would be pleasure…”
“So this amazing gear…” She touched Kit’s arm. “Is this from your previous job?”
“I have some things… But this one I have made to measure by specialist. And now I hear from Robyn about this place… Fantastex? Just nearby? I will go there to see next week.”
“Ah, yes… ESDS uses it all the time. They can make anything. And very good workmanship. It’ll be perfect for you.”
“I excited to visit store. But Tim… What shall I do…?”
“Really, Kit, if you like him, just do whatever you like. That will serve my purpose too. I don’t know what your plans are, how busy you are. I don’t want to impose upon you in any way. But…”
“Miss Connie… May I stay through to Monday? I back to work Tuesday.”
“If you want to, I’d be only too delighted… I like you very much, Kit. You’re an exceptional girl. You can stay here as long as or whenever you like. We always have spare rooms.”
“Thank you, miss Connie. I like you too. And I like Tim very much. I ring my friends and explain I will return Monday night. Tell them all about pretty boy I have discovered in super sexy latex hotpants. Marguerite will be jealous! And I will keep Tim on string for you. No, on chain. Invisible chain. For me it will be pleasure…”
Just how much of a pleasure it was for Kit soon became evident after they returned to the living room. As Connie sat with her friends quietly explaining tactics, Kit consolidated her relationship with Tim over by the French doors, in the most irresistible way possible. Tim made little attempt to resist her kiss. Connie raised an eyebrow, Had he already forgotten about Jenny? But given his nature, and Kit’s extraordinary sexual power, it would have been almost impossible for him to resist.
Kit whispered something in his ear, and pointed to a sofa next to the fireplace. Tim’s eyes lit up.. He hurried over to Connie. His cheeks were burning and his lips looked swollen. It must have been his first proper snog.
“Miss…? Where do you keep the leather cream, please?”
“In the kitchen, Tim. In the utility cupboard under the sink.”
“Miss Kit wants me to polish her boots. Can I…?”
“Of course. You must do whatever Miss Kit asks.”
“Yes, miss. Thank you, miss.” And he hurried off towards the kitchen.
Connie adopted a relaxed smile and walked casually into the living room. Her friends were sitting together around a coffee-table, talking amongst themselves. Tim and Kit were standing apart from them, but close to each other, by the French door. A single glance showed her everything she needed to know. In her outfit Kit looked like a snake – a glossy black snake – eyes locked onto Tim’s, whilst he returned a stare of adoration, like a puppy with its mistress.
For now it was necessary that she break the spell.
“Kit!” Kit turned her head sharply. “I wanted to ask your advice about something. Shall we go into the kitchen?”
Kit momentarily inclined her head, and without a word to Tim, turned and walked away, leaving him looking bereft. Connie led her into the kitchen and closed the door.
“Kit. First of all, I want to say how glad I am you came to visit. Tim obviously adores you. Now, I’ll be frank.”
Kit’s expression betrayed nothing, but Connie wondered if she was expecting cautionary advice. If she were, however, she was not about to get any. Quite the opposite.
“As far as I’m concerned, anything or anyone that can tighten the bonds which I’m trying to weave around him is welcome here.”
Kit looked slightly puzzled. “You weaving bonds…?”
“Ah. I should explain fully. I don’t know how much Robyn told you…”
“She say you have new maid – “cute sissy boy maid” – and I should come see him. Tim is delighted – no, delightful boy. I never expect such a thing here in English countryside, where people are so… conservative? I’m excited as soon as I see him…”
“Well, I and my friends also love young men like Tim, who recognise the innate superiority of women, and only wish to serve them. Fortunately we have a training agency for boys like Tim right on our doorstep. It’s called ESDS – Egerton’s Special Domestic Services. Cassandra Egerton is one of my closest friends. We, and others like us, represent the ultimate goal and practical manifestation of their training – though we regard our role not only as clients, but also as associates whose vision it is to continue and to help perfect that training.”
As Connie spoke, the expression on Kit’s face had slowly morphed from uncertainty to enlightenment. “Now I see all! You are doing very good job, Mrs Brookshaw. I would love help you…”
“I would love you to help. I think you can wind that boy around your little finger.”
“Where did he come from?”
“Ah. That’s another story. He was working as a boot boy at Pitt’s Wood Equestrian Centre.”
Kit looked puzzled. “Boot boy...?”
His job was to clean all the girls’ boots. He and his friend Bobby have a special place there, all equipped so that a girl or a woman can come in and sit comfortably while the boys kneel and clean and polish their boots. They were made to wear cute little latex outfits, most recently like pageboys. The customers loved them. Serena – that’s Cassandra’s daughter – went there in thigh boots and a latex catsuit! She got quite a response. They even have their own apartment. They were always busy - they had more customers than they could handle really - but from what I hear they enjoyed every minute.”
Kit smiled. “So Tim could…clean my boots if I asked him…”
“Haven’t you seen him staring at them? I doubt he’s ever serviced boots like that before. Especially on a girl sheathed entirely in shiny black latex. If he does, expect fireworks, darling…”
“Fireworks?”
Connie grinned. “You know, little bangs and whizzes and pops. Maybe a big pop.”
“Big pop? Would he do big pop?”
“If you’re lucky…” She held up the little bottle of Rose-Stim. “Do you know what this is? I sprayed his shorts earlier…”
Kit’s face lit up. She knew very well. “You very naughty lady, miss Connie…”
“Not as naughty as you, miss Kit. In any case, I gather he’s been in training all the week, so he’s probably in need of a little relief by now. I’ll leave it to you. There’s plenty of cloths and leather cream.”
“My boots do need polish…”
“Go for it, then. But I’m really curious about you, Kit. Can you tell me something about yourself?”
“Ah, yes. Of course. I rather rude, not introduce myself properly. Well, where to start? I born and brought up in Czech Republic, yes? No father, mother leave when I little, grandmother look after me. We live in village. No future there. Then I go into local beauty competition…and win! Miss Katerinice 2021. Man from UK there in audience, very smart, suit and tie, look wealthy, he offer me job in London, modelling. Very exciting. Grandmother tell me, “go, go silly girl…make fortune in UK”. He fly me to London, we go to very busy place in city, to studio high up in tall building, all glass and steel… He work for big company… Onassis…? Onanni? Something. Lots of girls. I specialise in leather, latex. Just pose, videos… Nothing bad. A few times have to hit men with whip, put on lead… Things like that. I enjoy. Good pay. Stay there eighteen months. Then trouble with other girls. I get more pay than them, they jealous. Then I move to new agency. Private work… I meet girl there – Marguerite. French. We like each other very much. They want us have sex with men, we say no, they try to bully us, so we leave one night, take train, end up here. We not know what to do. Then meet another girl in bar. Jo. She want to leave home, but no money. But we have saved, we have money. So we team up. She know her way around. We find apartment, now all live together. Very nice, very comfortable. We get jobs to pay rent, bills. Me, I work four days as receptionist in law firm. Also study. I will take law exam in year or two, hope to become lawyer.”
“Wow. Quite a story. How old are you now?”
“Nineteen. Twenty next June. Can I ask…how old Tim?”
“He was eighteen on the first. He doesn’t know we know. For various reasons he wants to keep it a secret as long as possible. But he couldn’t lie to Miss Poole – she’s the principal of Pitt’s Wood Equestrian Centre - though he swore her to secrecy. But Miss Poole’s on the board of ESDS, and her first duty is to the directors. They’ll ask him to sign a new contract now he’s of age, which he doesn’t want to do. As soon as I saw him I wanted him for myself, my permanent maid. Maybe I’ll be able to come to some arrangement, whether he stays at ESDS or not. But it would be helpful to have something on him, if you know what I mean.”
“On him…?”
“You know… Something he wouldn’t like others – his new girlfriend for instance - to find out about… Would you be prepared to help, maybe…?”
“Ah, yes. I understand. Yes, miss Connie, I love to help you! Tim is so cute…so sweet and innocent. I never feel attracted to boys usually. Can’t wait to see him as real girl, sissy maid. But he sexy just in little hotpants outfit. Robyn show me photos of wedding… So cute… Would be pleasure…”
“So this amazing gear…” She touched Kit’s arm. “Is this from your previous job?”
“I have some things… But this one I have made to measure by specialist. And now I hear from Robyn about this place… Fantastex? Just nearby? I will go there to see next week.”
“Ah, yes… ESDS uses it all the time. They can make anything. And very good workmanship. It’ll be perfect for you.”
“I excited to visit store. But Tim… What shall I do…?”
“Really, Kit, if you like him, just do whatever you like. That will serve my purpose too. I don’t know what your plans are, how busy you are. I don’t want to impose upon you in any way. But…”
“Miss Connie… May I stay through to Monday? I back to work Tuesday.”
“If you want to, I’d be only too delighted… I like you very much, Kit. You’re an exceptional girl. You can stay here as long as or whenever you like. We always have spare rooms.”
“Thank you, miss Connie. I like you too. And I like Tim very much. I ring my friends and explain I will return Monday night. Tell them all about pretty boy I have discovered in super sexy latex hotpants. Marguerite will be jealous! And I will keep Tim on string for you. No, on chain. Invisible chain. For me it will be pleasure…”
Just how much of a pleasure it was for Kit soon became evident after they returned to the living room. As Connie sat with her friends quietly explaining tactics, Kit consolidated her relationship with Tim over by the French doors, in the most irresistible way possible. Tim made little attempt to resist her kiss. Connie raised an eyebrow, Had he already forgotten about Jenny? But given his nature, and Kit’s extraordinary sexual power, it would have been almost impossible for him to resist.
Kit whispered something in his ear, and pointed to a sofa next to the fireplace. Tim’s eyes lit up.. He hurried over to Connie. His cheeks were burning and his lips looked swollen. It must have been his first proper snog.
“Miss…? Where do you keep the leather cream, please?”
“In the kitchen, Tim. In the utility cupboard under the sink.”
“Miss Kit wants me to polish her boots. Can I…?”
“Of course. You must do whatever Miss Kit asks.”
“Yes, miss. Thank you, miss.” And he hurried off towards the kitchen.
9
Active Sissy Stories / Re: Failed and Faulty
« Last post by antonia on June 17, 2026, 03:07:37 PM »
Chapter 11
Suzanne was woken by the sounds of Olivia getting ready for work, a look at her watch told her it was six o’clock and she decided to score a few points with her employer by making her a cup of coffee. She checked her progress as she went to get out of bed, her pyjama bottoms felt positively damp, not wet but definitely as if she had suffered a few leaky dribbles. Suzanne was shocked, she never had accidents, never had any problems. She pealed back the sheets and was pleased to note that her bedding was perfectly clean and dry. However, she spotted a ridge that ran across her bed that was just discernible under her sheet. She looked under the sheet - nothing. She looked under the quilted mattress cover and there it was - an old fashioned rubber sheet. Her bed was already protected against infantile bed wetting.
She remade her bed somewhat shocked and put on a bathrobe, before making her way downstairs to make coffee.
She took a freshly made Nespresso coffee up to Olivia.
“Good morning” she said “can you manage a coffee”?
“Morning Suzanne, did you have a good sleep? Do you need a change?” She asked. Suzanne looked a bit shocked, how could she know about her near miss? Olivia laughed. “No not that, do you need a change from a duvet to sheets and blankets”?
“No all good” replied Suzanne with relief.
Olivia left for work and Suzanne started her chores by emptying the dish washer and tidying the kitchen. She collected up the nappies that seemed to be piled in the kitchen, dining room and lounge. How many nappies did Andy need? She counted 17, then there were the 20 from the big wash yesterday that she was tumbling in the drier to fluff them up. There were plastic baby pants on every radiator, most were clean and in good order but a couple were badly stained. She knew it was pointless trying to lift out those indelible marks.
She heard babbling from the nursery, her charge was waking up. She completed folding up the nappies, carefully to make sure all the labels were in the same position with all folds in the same orientation in the pile. She steadied the pile with her chin and slowly climbed the stairs. She went into the nursery and filled the shelves with her load. Andy looked sleepily at her while suc-king on his do-di. She cooed at him affectionately and he responded with happy gurgles.
Unlike her first sight of him, when he was dirty and soiled, today he was clean and smelt like a baby, warm wee and baby powder. She changed him out of his wet nappy and dressed him in one of his freshly laundered terries and sweet smelling baby pants. Today she picked out a pale blue bubble romper that gave him a huge nappy bum.
She fed him a wholesome breakfast and Andy was alert and seemed about to engage in a dialogue with her. By the time he had had his juice with the vitamin supplement he was back into a slump. He barely had the energy to soil his fresh nappy as he sat in his high chair. He strained and grunted, but hadn’t the strength to lift himself up from his seat to void in his nappies. His face went redder and redder until soiling could escape his body.
Suzanne changed him and put him down for his nap.
Olivia had left a list of chores to do on the kitchen table and they were not the work expected of a fully trained nanny from Norlands. Cleaning floors and bathrooms was not in her remit, nor was cutting the grass or looking at the lock on the gate. She did not want to set a precedent and decided to stick to the jobs that needed to be done for Andy. His clothes were a disgrace, some outfits were stained, buttons were loose, stitching had come undone. The nursery floor was dirty and all the units needed to be polished. So she set about her tasks as Andy slept. She hated the silence and turned on an MP3 player in the nursery that played through speakers on the wall. The music was a mixture of classical excerpts and very soothing, so would not disturb her sleeping charge.
She finally sat down as the floor dried and began her sewing tasks, her lack of sleep made her eyes heavy and she slowly nodded off. “You need nappies. You must suc-k your dummy. You love going in your nappies. A good baby wets his nappies”. She had put on a specially adapted piece of subliminal messaging designed for Andy, this is the diet of sound he was fed every night.
Suzanne was woken by the sounds of Olivia getting ready for work, a look at her watch told her it was six o’clock and she decided to score a few points with her employer by making her a cup of coffee. She checked her progress as she went to get out of bed, her pyjama bottoms felt positively damp, not wet but definitely as if she had suffered a few leaky dribbles. Suzanne was shocked, she never had accidents, never had any problems. She pealed back the sheets and was pleased to note that her bedding was perfectly clean and dry. However, she spotted a ridge that ran across her bed that was just discernible under her sheet. She looked under the sheet - nothing. She looked under the quilted mattress cover and there it was - an old fashioned rubber sheet. Her bed was already protected against infantile bed wetting.
She remade her bed somewhat shocked and put on a bathrobe, before making her way downstairs to make coffee.
She took a freshly made Nespresso coffee up to Olivia.
“Good morning” she said “can you manage a coffee”?
“Morning Suzanne, did you have a good sleep? Do you need a change?” She asked. Suzanne looked a bit shocked, how could she know about her near miss? Olivia laughed. “No not that, do you need a change from a duvet to sheets and blankets”?
“No all good” replied Suzanne with relief.
Olivia left for work and Suzanne started her chores by emptying the dish washer and tidying the kitchen. She collected up the nappies that seemed to be piled in the kitchen, dining room and lounge. How many nappies did Andy need? She counted 17, then there were the 20 from the big wash yesterday that she was tumbling in the drier to fluff them up. There were plastic baby pants on every radiator, most were clean and in good order but a couple were badly stained. She knew it was pointless trying to lift out those indelible marks.
She heard babbling from the nursery, her charge was waking up. She completed folding up the nappies, carefully to make sure all the labels were in the same position with all folds in the same orientation in the pile. She steadied the pile with her chin and slowly climbed the stairs. She went into the nursery and filled the shelves with her load. Andy looked sleepily at her while suc-king on his do-di. She cooed at him affectionately and he responded with happy gurgles.
Unlike her first sight of him, when he was dirty and soiled, today he was clean and smelt like a baby, warm wee and baby powder. She changed him out of his wet nappy and dressed him in one of his freshly laundered terries and sweet smelling baby pants. Today she picked out a pale blue bubble romper that gave him a huge nappy bum.
She fed him a wholesome breakfast and Andy was alert and seemed about to engage in a dialogue with her. By the time he had had his juice with the vitamin supplement he was back into a slump. He barely had the energy to soil his fresh nappy as he sat in his high chair. He strained and grunted, but hadn’t the strength to lift himself up from his seat to void in his nappies. His face went redder and redder until soiling could escape his body.
Suzanne changed him and put him down for his nap.
Olivia had left a list of chores to do on the kitchen table and they were not the work expected of a fully trained nanny from Norlands. Cleaning floors and bathrooms was not in her remit, nor was cutting the grass or looking at the lock on the gate. She did not want to set a precedent and decided to stick to the jobs that needed to be done for Andy. His clothes were a disgrace, some outfits were stained, buttons were loose, stitching had come undone. The nursery floor was dirty and all the units needed to be polished. So she set about her tasks as Andy slept. She hated the silence and turned on an MP3 player in the nursery that played through speakers on the wall. The music was a mixture of classical excerpts and very soothing, so would not disturb her sleeping charge.
She finally sat down as the floor dried and began her sewing tasks, her lack of sleep made her eyes heavy and she slowly nodded off. “You need nappies. You must suc-k your dummy. You love going in your nappies. A good baby wets his nappies”. She had put on a specially adapted piece of subliminal messaging designed for Andy, this is the diet of sound he was fed every night.
10
Active Sissy Stories / Re: Failed and Faulty
« Last post by Baby Mac on June 17, 2026, 02:46:00 PM »
I love the women you write they are comfortably cruel and i am looking to see what this sadistic weight gain and regression will bring
The more you give, the more I can give back.
Website, forum design, software, & security on this site is copyrighted. It was made personally by Betty Pearl, of Betty Pearl's Pubs, Sissy Stories, buffalobetties, pearlcorona. Betty's Pub is a non-profit organization & support group for the transgendered, & Fetware community. We don't sell anything, & we don't data mine your personal information & habits to sell like MOST other sites do. We respect your privacy & won't sell it out for a few bucks.
Site for: Sissy Stories, ABDL Stories, Sissy Art, Crossdressing, Transgender