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41
Active Sissy Stories / Re: The Second Floor
« Last post by BabyJay on May 26, 2025, 09:39:08 AM »
So! Leighton is finally snared. Sounds like He will become Emily's pet Sissy. Looks like Dorian is, meanwhile, going to give him an insight as to what he may be letting himself in for as she tells him of her plans for poor Allen/Allison.
42
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on May 26, 2025, 07:47:25 AM »
Chapter 184.
His performance went through three stages. The first stage – awkward, apologetic fumbling, looking about him as if seeking an escape route, was met by Miki with patient silence and an expectant, questioning expression. There was much squirming and crossing of legs, and adjustment of leg-bands, which achieved nothing but sticky-fingered gloves. The second, when it became clear to him that she had no intention of letting him off the hook, was a period of five minutes or so when he went through the motions, sliding it back and forth, indulging in perfunctory manipulation, and feigning rising excitement. But even that charade eventually produced real results, a yearning to satisfy his natural needs, which thrust him into the third phase, when he finally lost control. Miki focussed on keeping him neatly framed in the video as he began to masturbate in earnest. His gasps and moans were no longer fake, he pressed his thighs together or crossed one over the other as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and as his arousal mounted he began to emit little pathetic whimpers. The head of his coc-k lay just below and to the right of his belt buckle. Every now and then it would spasm, as if he was about to c-um, and then he’d take his hand away for a moment. The latex was smeared with sticky finger-marks, and the dribbles of clear juice on his thighs had now reached his knees.
He was on his second boiled sweet when Miki thought she ought to check the time. He’d been at it now for nearly forty minutes. The girls could come back at any minute. She decided it was time to begin her interrogation.
“So Bobby… Pitt’s Wood Boot Boy! Gosh, that’s an important job, isn’t it? Are you looking forward to it?”
“Ooh…ah….y-yes… I can’t wait…”
“But weren’t you tricked into it originally?”
“Yes, but… I hadn’t thought it out…<gasp>…my own parlour…<ahh>…I’ll make quite a lot of money, I think…<moan>…I’ll be a full member of staff…” (For some reason that phrase made Miki smile.) “And I’m gonna have…oh, gosh…I’m gonna have, like several really cool outfits…”
“Yes, you will. I think the ladies are going to be fighting for bookings!”
“Really? Do you…<ahh>…think so?”
“I’m sure of it. So, will you be serving just horse-riders in riding boots, or…”
“Miss Poole thinks I can attract ladies from outside, too. She’s gonna advertise. Then if they like the place they might…<gasp>…they might join the Centre!”
“Wow! That would be great. So you would be cleaning all sorts of boots. Ankle boots, knee boots…even thigh boots!”
“Th-thigh b-boots…?”!
“Yes! You’d have to be very discreet. I’ve seen a lot of girls and women about town wearing really high thigh boots with tiny little pleated leather mini-skirts, barely hiding their panties! Imagine if…”
But she got no farther. A shudder ran through his body, and his eyeballs drifted upwards.
“Bobby! Keep your position! Nice and straight or you’ll lose points!”
He did his best. Somehow he kept his feet together and on the spot. The first ejaculation actually spurted upwards out of the waistband of his shorts, soaking his shirt. Then his pulsating coc-k slipped sideways, and wads of c-um erupted from under the leg-band, and streamed down between his legs, all over his shoes and onto the grass. He stood there, jolted by orgasmic spasms, but dutifully holding his position, until his climax eventually subsided..
“Good boy, Bobby! You’re a trooper!”
It was at that very moment that Miki heard the sound of girls voices in the street. She had all the footage she wanted. She had to act fast. Bobby had sunk to his knees. He looked barely conscious. Pocketing her phone, she dragged him to his feet, and helped him through the French doors, across the living-room, and towards his bedroom. Just in time. She heard Mélisande’s voice.
“Bobby? Where are you?”
She pushed him inside, and made her way back. Everyone was either in the kitchen or the living-room.
“Where’s Bobby? We played a great game…” said Rochelle, excitedly.
“Oh, he’s just getting changed, darling. Be out in a few minutes.”
“Oh! Mrs Burlington, why is Bobby getting changed? You said he could wear his pageboy outfit all day…”
“I’ll check, dear. Nicole…?”
His performance went through three stages. The first stage – awkward, apologetic fumbling, looking about him as if seeking an escape route, was met by Miki with patient silence and an expectant, questioning expression. There was much squirming and crossing of legs, and adjustment of leg-bands, which achieved nothing but sticky-fingered gloves. The second, when it became clear to him that she had no intention of letting him off the hook, was a period of five minutes or so when he went through the motions, sliding it back and forth, indulging in perfunctory manipulation, and feigning rising excitement. But even that charade eventually produced real results, a yearning to satisfy his natural needs, which thrust him into the third phase, when he finally lost control. Miki focussed on keeping him neatly framed in the video as he began to masturbate in earnest. His gasps and moans were no longer fake, he pressed his thighs together or crossed one over the other as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and as his arousal mounted he began to emit little pathetic whimpers. The head of his coc-k lay just below and to the right of his belt buckle. Every now and then it would spasm, as if he was about to c-um, and then he’d take his hand away for a moment. The latex was smeared with sticky finger-marks, and the dribbles of clear juice on his thighs had now reached his knees.
He was on his second boiled sweet when Miki thought she ought to check the time. He’d been at it now for nearly forty minutes. The girls could come back at any minute. She decided it was time to begin her interrogation.
“So Bobby… Pitt’s Wood Boot Boy! Gosh, that’s an important job, isn’t it? Are you looking forward to it?”
“Ooh…ah….y-yes… I can’t wait…”
“But weren’t you tricked into it originally?”
“Yes, but… I hadn’t thought it out…<gasp>…my own parlour…<ahh>…I’ll make quite a lot of money, I think…<moan>…I’ll be a full member of staff…” (For some reason that phrase made Miki smile.) “And I’m gonna have…oh, gosh…I’m gonna have, like several really cool outfits…”
“Yes, you will. I think the ladies are going to be fighting for bookings!”
“Really? Do you…<ahh>…think so?”
“I’m sure of it. So, will you be serving just horse-riders in riding boots, or…”
“Miss Poole thinks I can attract ladies from outside, too. She’s gonna advertise. Then if they like the place they might…<gasp>…they might join the Centre!”
“Wow! That would be great. So you would be cleaning all sorts of boots. Ankle boots, knee boots…even thigh boots!”
“Th-thigh b-boots…?”!
“Yes! You’d have to be very discreet. I’ve seen a lot of girls and women about town wearing really high thigh boots with tiny little pleated leather mini-skirts, barely hiding their panties! Imagine if…”
But she got no farther. A shudder ran through his body, and his eyeballs drifted upwards.
“Bobby! Keep your position! Nice and straight or you’ll lose points!”
He did his best. Somehow he kept his feet together and on the spot. The first ejaculation actually spurted upwards out of the waistband of his shorts, soaking his shirt. Then his pulsating coc-k slipped sideways, and wads of c-um erupted from under the leg-band, and streamed down between his legs, all over his shoes and onto the grass. He stood there, jolted by orgasmic spasms, but dutifully holding his position, until his climax eventually subsided..
“Good boy, Bobby! You’re a trooper!”
It was at that very moment that Miki heard the sound of girls voices in the street. She had all the footage she wanted. She had to act fast. Bobby had sunk to his knees. He looked barely conscious. Pocketing her phone, she dragged him to his feet, and helped him through the French doors, across the living-room, and towards his bedroom. Just in time. She heard Mélisande’s voice.
“Bobby? Where are you?”
She pushed him inside, and made her way back. Everyone was either in the kitchen or the living-room.
“Where’s Bobby? We played a great game…” said Rochelle, excitedly.
“Oh, he’s just getting changed, darling. Be out in a few minutes.”
“Oh! Mrs Burlington, why is Bobby getting changed? You said he could wear his pageboy outfit all day…”
“I’ll check, dear. Nicole…?”
43
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on May 26, 2025, 07:39:08 AM »
Chapter 183.
Nicole, Clarissa and Miki sat on the grass a little way from the playground and watched Bobby and the girls playing. Miki sighed.
“He seems happiest playing with them. It’s not healthy. I mean, I’ve flirted with him enough, haven’t I?”
“Flirted?” laughed Clarissa. “Is that what you call it? I saw what you were up to, young lady.”
Miki blushed. “Oh. Well I was just trying to get a reaction.”
“You got one, didn’t you?”
“Don’t give up,” said Nicole. “I know…” She stood up. “Bobby?” she called. “Here a minute.”
He came over. “Yes, aunt?”
“We need to think about supper. It’s ready, but we need a salad. All the stuff’s in the fridge. And we need to have the candles nicely arranged on the cake. Miki’s going to start getting things ready. Could you give her a hand?”
“Sure. Let’s go, Miki.”
“We’ll give the girls till five, but no later. The sun’s warm, but there’s a definite chill in the wind now.”
“Okay – see you later.”
Miki understood perfectly. She had until about five-fifteen to work her magic on Bobby. She walked back to the house at the fastest pace she could muster, Bobby by her side. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see his coc-k flicking to and fro under the super-slick latex as he made an effort to keep up.
“Why are you in such a hurry?”
“Oh… Am I going too fast for you?”
“No, of course not…”
But by the time they got back to the house, she could see that the work-out had done the trick, and the bulge in his shorts had noticeably grown. She got to work on the salad, delegating the positioning of the candles to Bobby, and they were finished by a quarter past four. She took his hand and led him out into the garden, and stood him in front of the cherry tree..
“I wish you’d play with me a bit more instead of those little girls. Do you like them better than me?”
“Of course not, Miki…”
She opened her eyes wider, waiting for an explanation.
“You know, it’s just that…it’s Mellie’s birthday, after all…so I, you know, feel I should…”
“Show off to all the little ones? I see…”
“No…”
“Never mind. Next month you’ll be able to show off to a whole weddingful of guests. Lucky them. I just wish you’d show off to me a bit, that all. Like you did earlier.”
“Earlier…?”
“You know, your lovely little coc-k got so big and hard… It made me feel you liked me. It’s a little bit big now, isn’t it…?”
It was vertical under its latex skin, and, sliding two fingers of her left hand through one of his belt loops, she drew the point of a nail down the length of the shaft, making him gasp and flinch.
“Ooh…” She looked at him coyly. “That got a reaction. See – that’s what I mean…”
He tried to pull back but she declined to release him, instead repeating the action, then starting to stroke and palpate it with exquisite delicacy, coaxing it back into full erection. Bobby gasped, and went to push her hand away.
“Keep your hands by your sides, Bobby! You’ll get your turn soon enough.”
She pushed it gently this way and that under the latex skin, watching his face all the time with an amused smile. Extra-lubricated with his juices, it slipped about easily. Not wanting to spoil her plan, she handled it carefully, finally leaving it maybe twenty degrees off the vertical, nearest his right hand, with the swollen head lying against his tummy. Little dribbles of clear fluid were leaking from the legs of his shorts. She took a few paces back, and took out her phone.
He groaned. “Please, Miki…”
“What? I suppose you’d like me to finish the job, yes?”
He didn’t reply in words, but the expression on his face said it all. His ears, neck and cheeks were flushed with arousal.
“No, Bobby. I’ve done my bit. You yourself did the rest, so it’s down to you to finish up. Now...” – she glanced at her phone – “by my calculations you have forty-five minutes before your friends return. I’d suggest you get started – because you’re not going anywhere until you look a bit more respectable.” She took a quick snap. Bobby took a pace towards the house. “No, no! Back where you were! If you move I’ll show this to your darling Mellie! I wonder what she’d say if she saw what you got up to behind her back.”
Bobby stepped back again. “Okay, okay… What do you want me to do?”
Miki smiled. He was getting agitated now, and looking nervously at the corner of the house, where the driveway joined the back garden.
“That’s better. You know what I want. I want to check out your technique. Time’s getting on, so I’ll explain the rules. Relax, they won’t be back just yet. First rule, you stay right on that spot, feet together and don’t move while you’re doing it.” She pulled up a garden chair. “I’m going to sit here and film your performance. Over the next few days I’ll review it and give you a score out of twenty. If you score sixteen or better, I will allow you to date me. You want that, right?”
Bobby pressed his trainers tight together. “Y-yes…”
“That’s why I need to check out your sexual performance, to see if you measure up to my standards. I’ll tell you the result on your birthday… Yes, I’m invited. Second rule, no hurrying. Take your time. A premature climax will certainly disqualify you. Third rule, right hand only. Fourth and final rule, I may ask you some questions about your boot boy job. You must give honest and articulate answers.”
“B-but…”
“Yes, it’s quite a test, I know. But I’m confident you’ll be up to it.” She checked the time. “Okay, four thirty-two. Start when you’re ready.”
“Wait…”
Miki sighed impatiently. “What now?”
“C-can I…”
“Can you what?”
“C-can I have a sweet?”
“What?”
“A boiled sweet. I’ve got a couple in my purse.”
Miki looked puzzled.
“See… I always suc-k a sweet when I…you know, when I...do it. It…helps me concentrate…”
Miki was seized with a fit of coughing, but managed to keep a straight face.
“Yes, all right… I don’t see why not. Keep it in your cheek so you can answer my questions clearly.”
“Yes, Miki…”
He unbuttoned his purse, took out a red sweet, unwrapped it, popped it in his mouth. then replaced the wrapper in his purse, and buttoned it up again. He took one deep breath, stood for a moment fiddling shyly with the slimy leg frills, and then began…
Nicole, Clarissa and Miki sat on the grass a little way from the playground and watched Bobby and the girls playing. Miki sighed.
“He seems happiest playing with them. It’s not healthy. I mean, I’ve flirted with him enough, haven’t I?”
“Flirted?” laughed Clarissa. “Is that what you call it? I saw what you were up to, young lady.”
Miki blushed. “Oh. Well I was just trying to get a reaction.”
“You got one, didn’t you?”
“Don’t give up,” said Nicole. “I know…” She stood up. “Bobby?” she called. “Here a minute.”
He came over. “Yes, aunt?”
“We need to think about supper. It’s ready, but we need a salad. All the stuff’s in the fridge. And we need to have the candles nicely arranged on the cake. Miki’s going to start getting things ready. Could you give her a hand?”
“Sure. Let’s go, Miki.”
“We’ll give the girls till five, but no later. The sun’s warm, but there’s a definite chill in the wind now.”
“Okay – see you later.”
Miki understood perfectly. She had until about five-fifteen to work her magic on Bobby. She walked back to the house at the fastest pace she could muster, Bobby by her side. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see his coc-k flicking to and fro under the super-slick latex as he made an effort to keep up.
“Why are you in such a hurry?”
“Oh… Am I going too fast for you?”
“No, of course not…”
But by the time they got back to the house, she could see that the work-out had done the trick, and the bulge in his shorts had noticeably grown. She got to work on the salad, delegating the positioning of the candles to Bobby, and they were finished by a quarter past four. She took his hand and led him out into the garden, and stood him in front of the cherry tree..
“I wish you’d play with me a bit more instead of those little girls. Do you like them better than me?”
“Of course not, Miki…”
She opened her eyes wider, waiting for an explanation.
“You know, it’s just that…it’s Mellie’s birthday, after all…so I, you know, feel I should…”
“Show off to all the little ones? I see…”
“No…”
“Never mind. Next month you’ll be able to show off to a whole weddingful of guests. Lucky them. I just wish you’d show off to me a bit, that all. Like you did earlier.”
“Earlier…?”
“You know, your lovely little coc-k got so big and hard… It made me feel you liked me. It’s a little bit big now, isn’t it…?”
It was vertical under its latex skin, and, sliding two fingers of her left hand through one of his belt loops, she drew the point of a nail down the length of the shaft, making him gasp and flinch.
“Ooh…” She looked at him coyly. “That got a reaction. See – that’s what I mean…”
He tried to pull back but she declined to release him, instead repeating the action, then starting to stroke and palpate it with exquisite delicacy, coaxing it back into full erection. Bobby gasped, and went to push her hand away.
“Keep your hands by your sides, Bobby! You’ll get your turn soon enough.”
She pushed it gently this way and that under the latex skin, watching his face all the time with an amused smile. Extra-lubricated with his juices, it slipped about easily. Not wanting to spoil her plan, she handled it carefully, finally leaving it maybe twenty degrees off the vertical, nearest his right hand, with the swollen head lying against his tummy. Little dribbles of clear fluid were leaking from the legs of his shorts. She took a few paces back, and took out her phone.
He groaned. “Please, Miki…”
“What? I suppose you’d like me to finish the job, yes?”
He didn’t reply in words, but the expression on his face said it all. His ears, neck and cheeks were flushed with arousal.
“No, Bobby. I’ve done my bit. You yourself did the rest, so it’s down to you to finish up. Now...” – she glanced at her phone – “by my calculations you have forty-five minutes before your friends return. I’d suggest you get started – because you’re not going anywhere until you look a bit more respectable.” She took a quick snap. Bobby took a pace towards the house. “No, no! Back where you were! If you move I’ll show this to your darling Mellie! I wonder what she’d say if she saw what you got up to behind her back.”
Bobby stepped back again. “Okay, okay… What do you want me to do?”
Miki smiled. He was getting agitated now, and looking nervously at the corner of the house, where the driveway joined the back garden.
“That’s better. You know what I want. I want to check out your technique. Time’s getting on, so I’ll explain the rules. Relax, they won’t be back just yet. First rule, you stay right on that spot, feet together and don’t move while you’re doing it.” She pulled up a garden chair. “I’m going to sit here and film your performance. Over the next few days I’ll review it and give you a score out of twenty. If you score sixteen or better, I will allow you to date me. You want that, right?”
Bobby pressed his trainers tight together. “Y-yes…”
“That’s why I need to check out your sexual performance, to see if you measure up to my standards. I’ll tell you the result on your birthday… Yes, I’m invited. Second rule, no hurrying. Take your time. A premature climax will certainly disqualify you. Third rule, right hand only. Fourth and final rule, I may ask you some questions about your boot boy job. You must give honest and articulate answers.”
“B-but…”
“Yes, it’s quite a test, I know. But I’m confident you’ll be up to it.” She checked the time. “Okay, four thirty-two. Start when you’re ready.”
“Wait…”
Miki sighed impatiently. “What now?”
“C-can I…”
“Can you what?”
“C-can I have a sweet?”
“What?”
“A boiled sweet. I’ve got a couple in my purse.”
Miki looked puzzled.
“See… I always suc-k a sweet when I…you know, when I...do it. It…helps me concentrate…”
Miki was seized with a fit of coughing, but managed to keep a straight face.
“Yes, all right… I don’t see why not. Keep it in your cheek so you can answer my questions clearly.”
“Yes, Miki…”
He unbuttoned his purse, took out a red sweet, unwrapped it, popped it in his mouth. then replaced the wrapper in his purse, and buttoned it up again. He took one deep breath, stood for a moment fiddling shyly with the slimy leg frills, and then began…
44
Active Sissy Stories / Re: The Second Floor (#19)
« Last post by petticoated on May 25, 2025, 07:45:11 PM »
Orchids of all colors were tastefully displayed as Dorian and Leighton entered the spacious living room area. The marble floors and the deliberate click ckacking of Dorian's 5-inch heels enhanced the beautiful blonde's air of control. Her miniskirted white wool power suit already was doing its job masterfully. "Emily is freshening up. She got held up at her office, too. Let's have a seat here, on this couch, while you tell me all about yourself," adding, "Em seems quite smitten with you, Leighton," as she smiled. When she took her seat first, in the middle of the plush sofa, she reached behind her white wool miniskirt, smoothed the skirt as she lowered herself slowly, and when she was all the way sitting down, she tugged slightly at the hem if her short skirt, while Leghton feasted his eyes on the Feminine white lace hem of her exposed white satin mini slip. And then Dorian crossed her legs...slowly...allowing even more of Her pretty lace to peek out, and folded her beautifully maniucured hands, her frosted pale pink nails landing directly on her slip's lacy hem. Her Feminine fingers began playing with the lacy hem of Her exposed white slip. While her left hand toyed with her lace, her right hand moved up to the small pink key on the silver chain she wore around her neck. Leighton's face was flush with nervous anxiety. And Dorian knew it. He was staring in the direction of the pink key, but his eyes were even more focused on the lacy white bra beneath her sheer top. Playfully fingering her lacy half slip, she began her conversation with Leighton. " Did you notice the lace on my minislip matches the lacy white bra I am wearing, Leighton? Isn't it pretty? Or," as she played with her thick blonde hair, asked, " Of course, some men just don't notice little things like that?" Leighton was too awe-struck to render a response. And Dorian wasn't waitng for one, either. She seductively moved closer, pushing Leighton into the corner of the plush sofa. Her floral scented perfume was helping her to weaken his resistance. She took his little girlish right hand purposely in Hers, and placed it on the now two inches of Her exposed white lace. Then, while continuing to play with Her long thick blonde hair, she encouraged Leighton. "Go ahead, Leighton, play with my lace while I tell you all about my plans for Allen..."
45
Active Sissy Stories / Re: The Second Floor (#18)
« Last post by petticoated on May 24, 2025, 04:42:28 PM »
Dorian then reached into the right side pocket of her white wool miniskirt and retrieved her cell phone. As she did, her short skirt edged up ever so slightly, revealing a peek of white floral French Lace..It was beautiful...It was Feminine...and then it vanished as the tall blonde reached down to the hem of her wool miniskirt and gently tugged it down, ever so slightly. Skirt Management 101. This stunning blonde beauty had to be wearing a lacy minislip! Leighton was going crazy now. This was Femininity Overload, and along with Dorian's towering height, Her stunning blonde beauty, and Her miniskirted power suit, Leighton understood now why poor Allen had been unable to stop Her determination to seduce (Feminize) him, complete with all of the shame and humiliation that would inevitably come with it. No, Leighton realized.Tonight, there would be no ugly muscle-bound matrons, no leather-clad butches, nor were there any elderly grey-haired Governesses. Ohhh no. Not here. Not tonight. THIS was Seduction. Pure and simple. Unrelenting seduction. By Powerful Feminine Women. Beautiful Women who thoroughly enjoyed every moment of forcibly Feminizing...aka "Sissifying"...pretty little beta bois for Their own personal entertainment and amusement. Seemingly, it was already too late for Allen...aka..."Allison"... to stop this UltraFeminine, controlling, blonde beauty. Leighton could see the trepidation...the resignation in Allen's eyes. And then when Dorian quickly punched a series of numbers into Her phone, Leighton immediately heard a series of three locks, thereby preventing any escape he may have been considering...
46
Active Sissy Stories / Re: SFI
« Last post by BabyJay on May 24, 2025, 08:45:56 AM »
What a delightful continuation. Steven doesn't know what he is in for. I imagine he will be one of the "Squirmers" and "Screamers" and be Sissified much against his will. Look forward to continuation. Thank you.
47
Active Sissy Stories / Re: The Second Floor
« Last post by BabyJay on May 24, 2025, 08:33:21 AM »
Oh dear! Leighton has now become ensnared. How long before he is introduced to his own start into the world of Feminisation and Sissydom and who's pet will he become or will he be shared between Dorian and Emily?
48
Active Sissy Stories / Re: The Second Floor (#17)
« Last post by petticoated on May 24, 2025, 02:43:49 AM »
Leighton was dumbfounded by what he had just witnessed. As Allen mimicked another pitiful curtsy to Dorian, in an effeminate voice, he responded after his curtsy with, "Y...y...yesss, Mistress." Leighton could see that the redfaced humiliated man would offer no resistance at all. Dorian's mention of "Cinderella" did not go unnoticed, either. And She threatened to "Petticoat" Allen, too. As Leighton contemplated leaving, he noticed a sterling silver and diamond necklace around Dorian's neck. He also saw a small pale baby pink key hanging from the chain. Oh no! It couldn't be. It just couldn't. Had Dorian caged Allen, Leighton wondered. "Emily will be out shortly, Leighton. She and I both had to work later than we expected." Dorian moved closer to Leighton. She opened her white wool jacket just enough to allow Leighton a closer look at the white silk blouse she was wearing. The hint of an ultralacy white bra underneath her blouse further increased her control over Leighton. Fingering the pink key, she invited Leighton into the living room. The penthouse had an incredible view of the Manhattan skyline. The predominate color was white, with gold fixtures, crystal chandeliers, and feminine splashes of pale pink. It was beautiful. This penthouse was by far the largest, most expensive, and most luxurious of any unit in this magnificent building. The main floor had a white marble surface. There were two "Mistress Bedrooms," both with attached offices and luxuriously ultrafeminine en suite bathrooms. A small library and a spacious open kitchen completed the main floor. White sofas, several of them, and several chairs, all in soft pinks and white, were tastefully arranged. On the white walls were at least three paintings that immediately caught Leighton's full attention: Two original Roy Lichtensteins and a Degas ballerina original. As Dorian pointed to a spiral staircase, she stated that additional guest bedrooms and a maid's quarter were upstairs. "Perhaps we can show them to you later, Leighton. One of the guest bedrooms is specifically themed..."
49
Active Sissy Stories / Re: SFI
« Last post by sissyboy1212 on May 23, 2025, 07:00:18 PM »
Part 6
Carl’s legs were spread apart and strapped down on the padded leg rests of the chair. He was wriggling helplessly against his restraints, and he was protesting greatly and demanding to be let go. Beth couldn’t help but notice how he was dressed. Carl was wearing a very frilly and ruffled set of pink panties as well as what looked like a satiny pink corset that came almost all the way up to his collarbones! His hands were also enclosed in what looked like thickly padded pink leather mitts!
Helen began to narrate, “Ellen, I know you can see Carl is agitated, but remember we talked about this. It’s to be expected. He’s perfectly safe and unharmed. After we picked him up from your home this morning, he was processed though the IIR and given a basic medical examination in our clinic. Next, he was taken to one of our staging rooms to be checked for contraband and then vigorously scrubbed clean, head to toe, by our matrons. You can see his hair is still damp from all the washing, and I can promise you they’ve made sure that Carl’s every nook and cranny is squeaky clean!”
Beth looked over at the Baxter sisters. Ellen had a look of motherly concern on her face, but her sister Janice seemed to be reveling in the spectacle. If anything, her expression was one of immense satisfaction.
The matrons wheeled Carl’s chair into place and then locked a series of clamps to hold it down. Although Carl was completely strapped down, it was obvious he had begun to take in his surroundings. He ogled at the posters of reluctant boys just like him being dressed in the girliest outfits imaginable and being given sissy hairdos, makeovers, manicures and the like.
Fully comprehending his situation, he began voicing his objections loudly. He wiggled desperately in his restraints. It was obvious now he saw his mother and the other ladies watching him, and he cried out even more loudly but somewhat unintelligibly: “Mom, you can’t leth them do thith! Theeth bi%$&s want to turn me into a th-ithy! Pleath make them FU&%$*ing TH-TOP! Thith ith cra-thee, Mom! No Fu$&%*ing way I’m leth-ing them do that! I know Aunt Jan-ith ith behind thith! Don’th li-then to her!”
At this point, Helen spoke loudly in an attempt to speak over Carl’s protestations. Almost yelling, she said, “As you can see, our boys often start out rather petulant, but we are quite adept at dealing with this type of behavior!”
As Helen spoke, Beth was practically transfixed as one of the matrons picked up a bulbous rubber implement with a small tube attached. With practiced ease, one matron grabbed Carl from behind and pulled his head back against the pad of his salon chair. The other matron swiftly inserted the phallic pink gag in the boy’s open mouth. Without missing a beat, she inflated it inside his mouth until the boy’s shouts were reduced to a series of heavily muffled grunts and groans. Carl’s eyes bulged in surprise and anger as his mouth was completely engorged with the foreign intruder. It seemed to have a thin rubber flange that fitted between his lips and his front teeth. Next, the matron skillfully disconnected the air tube from Carl’s inflatable gag leaving him frustrated and helpless. The flange on the gag caused his lips to jut out in a somewhat pouty and conspicuous way.
Helen resumed speaking in a more normal tone of voice, “That’s much better. As you can see, young Master Carl is now all ready for his Initial Sissification. And despite all his unseemly yelling, you may have detected that he was lisping. During the medical exam, the nurse applied a semi-permanent numbing agent to his tongue. This will help him develop an adorable sissy lisp, and he will begin working with our speech therapists. By the time the numbing agent wears off in about a month, his lisp should be second nature!”
Helen continued, “I hope you can appreciate that we at SFI are more than ready to deal with the ‘Squirmers’ and the ‘Screamers’ as we call them in the business. Our teen-size inflatable pacifiers, or Sissy Soothers, are a wonderful innovation for boys who resist the path that has been laid out for them. As you can see, it calms the Sissy right down! In years past, we had to put a strap behind the Sissy’s head to hold his Soother in, but now these inflatable versions don’t interfere with their Punishment Perms in the same way. So nice to have the straps out of the way when we start on their hair! And you can see that once a boy’s Sissy Soother is inflated, it’s quite impossible to spit out. Here at SFI, we are constantly focused on process improvement!”
Ellen looked down at her son sympathetically. She seemed ready to speak, but then Janice exclaimed, “it’s perfect! I can’t wait to see the rest! Isn’t that right Ellen?” she asked her sister pointedly.
Ellen opened her mouth as if to say something, and then she closed it silently without uttering a word. Finally, she spoke to her sister, “Yes Janice… I know you’re right and it’s all for the best.”
Carl’s legs were spread apart and strapped down on the padded leg rests of the chair. He was wriggling helplessly against his restraints, and he was protesting greatly and demanding to be let go. Beth couldn’t help but notice how he was dressed. Carl was wearing a very frilly and ruffled set of pink panties as well as what looked like a satiny pink corset that came almost all the way up to his collarbones! His hands were also enclosed in what looked like thickly padded pink leather mitts!
Helen began to narrate, “Ellen, I know you can see Carl is agitated, but remember we talked about this. It’s to be expected. He’s perfectly safe and unharmed. After we picked him up from your home this morning, he was processed though the IIR and given a basic medical examination in our clinic. Next, he was taken to one of our staging rooms to be checked for contraband and then vigorously scrubbed clean, head to toe, by our matrons. You can see his hair is still damp from all the washing, and I can promise you they’ve made sure that Carl’s every nook and cranny is squeaky clean!”
Beth looked over at the Baxter sisters. Ellen had a look of motherly concern on her face, but her sister Janice seemed to be reveling in the spectacle. If anything, her expression was one of immense satisfaction.
The matrons wheeled Carl’s chair into place and then locked a series of clamps to hold it down. Although Carl was completely strapped down, it was obvious he had begun to take in his surroundings. He ogled at the posters of reluctant boys just like him being dressed in the girliest outfits imaginable and being given sissy hairdos, makeovers, manicures and the like.
Fully comprehending his situation, he began voicing his objections loudly. He wiggled desperately in his restraints. It was obvious now he saw his mother and the other ladies watching him, and he cried out even more loudly but somewhat unintelligibly: “Mom, you can’t leth them do thith! Theeth bi%$&s want to turn me into a th-ithy! Pleath make them FU&%$*ing TH-TOP! Thith ith cra-thee, Mom! No Fu$&%*ing way I’m leth-ing them do that! I know Aunt Jan-ith ith behind thith! Don’th li-then to her!”
At this point, Helen spoke loudly in an attempt to speak over Carl’s protestations. Almost yelling, she said, “As you can see, our boys often start out rather petulant, but we are quite adept at dealing with this type of behavior!”
As Helen spoke, Beth was practically transfixed as one of the matrons picked up a bulbous rubber implement with a small tube attached. With practiced ease, one matron grabbed Carl from behind and pulled his head back against the pad of his salon chair. The other matron swiftly inserted the phallic pink gag in the boy’s open mouth. Without missing a beat, she inflated it inside his mouth until the boy’s shouts were reduced to a series of heavily muffled grunts and groans. Carl’s eyes bulged in surprise and anger as his mouth was completely engorged with the foreign intruder. It seemed to have a thin rubber flange that fitted between his lips and his front teeth. Next, the matron skillfully disconnected the air tube from Carl’s inflatable gag leaving him frustrated and helpless. The flange on the gag caused his lips to jut out in a somewhat pouty and conspicuous way.
Helen resumed speaking in a more normal tone of voice, “That’s much better. As you can see, young Master Carl is now all ready for his Initial Sissification. And despite all his unseemly yelling, you may have detected that he was lisping. During the medical exam, the nurse applied a semi-permanent numbing agent to his tongue. This will help him develop an adorable sissy lisp, and he will begin working with our speech therapists. By the time the numbing agent wears off in about a month, his lisp should be second nature!”
Helen continued, “I hope you can appreciate that we at SFI are more than ready to deal with the ‘Squirmers’ and the ‘Screamers’ as we call them in the business. Our teen-size inflatable pacifiers, or Sissy Soothers, are a wonderful innovation for boys who resist the path that has been laid out for them. As you can see, it calms the Sissy right down! In years past, we had to put a strap behind the Sissy’s head to hold his Soother in, but now these inflatable versions don’t interfere with their Punishment Perms in the same way. So nice to have the straps out of the way when we start on their hair! And you can see that once a boy’s Sissy Soother is inflated, it’s quite impossible to spit out. Here at SFI, we are constantly focused on process improvement!”
Ellen looked down at her son sympathetically. She seemed ready to speak, but then Janice exclaimed, “it’s perfect! I can’t wait to see the rest! Isn’t that right Ellen?” she asked her sister pointedly.
Ellen opened her mouth as if to say something, and then she closed it silently without uttering a word. Finally, she spoke to her sister, “Yes Janice… I know you’re right and it’s all for the best.”
50
Active Sissy Stories / Re: The Second Floor (#16)
« Last post by petticoated on May 23, 2025, 03:10:57 PM »
Allen's eyes widened with fear. He swallowed hard. Surely this Blonde Goddess, dressed to the nines in her Feminine white wool miniskirted skirt suit, would not humiliate him in front of another male. "Well, 'Allison,' do you need to be Petticoated for the evening?" Quickly curtsying in his black silk women's pants, fully aware another male was watching him, he whispered almost in a lisping frightened voice, "I promise to improve my curtsy, Mistress Dorian." Dorian wasn't satisfied. "Go ahead. Continue." He desperately looked to Dorian for any kind of respite, his eyes pleading. Dorian put her hands on her hips, glaring at Her cowering "personal assistant." Now she started to tap her right foot impatiently on the glistening white marble floor. Leighton was captivated. A blonde Goddess, standing almost six feet tall in her heels, hands on her hips, in her white wool miniskirt power
suit, in complete Feminine control. Finally, Allen broke the silence. "And if I am unable to improve my curtsy, I need to be...I need to be...Petticoated." Smiling satisfactorily, and
before addressing Allen, Dorian gave a distinctly prolonged glance at Leighton. She looked at Allen, "Good gurl...Allison. I'm happy you see it My way. I agree with you. Now, get two scotch on rocks...and a Shirley Temple...for Leighton. Ask Em to help you into your full-skirted serving pinafore...the black satin one with the frilly white lace trim and the three attached layers...stiff layers...
of white tulle. While you're at it, go ahead and remove your long pants and pantaloons. You won't be needing them any more tonight. Replace them with the new black ruffled double satin rhumba panties. The ones with five rows of ruffled white lace on the back...and reads "Petticoated Sissy" in that pretty feminine white script on the front. While you are serving us and our little guest tonight," she smiled at Leighton, "You'll already be prepared should I need to Petticoat you." She paused thoughtfully, before adding, "As a matter of fact, a Special ~Intensive Sissification~ Petticoat that I ordered especially for you arrived from Cinderella this morning." Have it available on your mannequin and display it prominently while you are serving us our drinks...and while we are critiquing your curtsy. Hopefully, a sweet little bouffant petticoat...especially one from Cinderella...can serve as a gentle reminder for you to perfect your curtsy as you are serving us tonight." "Oh,she added, "Replace that pink satin bow in your hair with a larger one. One with frilly ruffled white lace. You are dismissed, Allison..."
suit, in complete Feminine control. Finally, Allen broke the silence. "And if I am unable to improve my curtsy, I need to be...I need to be...Petticoated." Smiling satisfactorily, and
before addressing Allen, Dorian gave a distinctly prolonged glance at Leighton. She looked at Allen, "Good gurl...Allison. I'm happy you see it My way. I agree with you. Now, get two scotch on rocks...and a Shirley Temple...for Leighton. Ask Em to help you into your full-skirted serving pinafore...the black satin one with the frilly white lace trim and the three attached layers...stiff layers...
of white tulle. While you're at it, go ahead and remove your long pants and pantaloons. You won't be needing them any more tonight. Replace them with the new black ruffled double satin rhumba panties. The ones with five rows of ruffled white lace on the back...and reads "Petticoated Sissy" in that pretty feminine white script on the front. While you are serving us and our little guest tonight," she smiled at Leighton, "You'll already be prepared should I need to Petticoat you." She paused thoughtfully, before adding, "As a matter of fact, a Special ~Intensive Sissification~ Petticoat that I ordered especially for you arrived from Cinderella this morning." Have it available on your mannequin and display it prominently while you are serving us our drinks...and while we are critiquing your curtsy. Hopefully, a sweet little bouffant petticoat...especially one from Cinderella...can serve as a gentle reminder for you to perfect your curtsy as you are serving us tonight." "Oh,she added, "Replace that pink satin bow in your hair with a larger one. One with frilly ruffled white lace. You are dismissed, Allison..."
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