how a sissy was caught and tamed

[frillibabi]

Hope this belongs here!





I had been lodging at Mrs Carter’s house for about 4 months whilst I re-sat my first year at university. Mrs Carter was probably in her early 50’s and a fairly large well built lady. I wouldn’t really say we got on that well – she was quite old fashioned in her outlook and was constantly complaining about the state of my room, or how I had long I had occupied the bathroom. I suppose that part of her outlook on life was coloured by the fact that she was divorced – her husband had left her many years ago – and she’d had to bring up their 3 daughters on her own. She made a small income from a dress making business she operated from a workshop attached to her house and supplemented it by taking in the odd lodger like myself. Why didn’t I leave? Well the real reason for staying was not the accommodation, nor the food, or the rent. I could have fared better elsewhere in town, and indeed now wish I had. No the real reason was Mrs Carter’s youngest daughter, Emily, who still lived at home. She was about a year younger than me and whilst I never dared, I often wished I had the courage to ask her for a date. I heard it said that if you want to see what the girl will be like in 20 years look at her mother. Well in Emily’s case it was hard to see how that could be true. She was everything her mother wasn’t – slim, bubbly and very attractive. Perhaps the only thing she shared with her mother was her height. Booth mother and daughter were nearly 6 foot tall in their stockinged feet. And there I said it: stockings. Because I had a thing about stockings. In particular I had a thing about Emily’s stockings. I knew she wore them as I had seen them in the laundry basket where she left them after a date with one of her numerous boyfriends. I had seen the suspender belts she wore too. If I am to confess all then I should say that not only had I seen them, but I had worn them. I was obsessed with Emily’s intimate clothing. I would lock myself in the bathroom, pretending I was bathing, and root around in the laundry basket for Emily’s underwear or nightwear before sniffing it to inhale her bodily fragrance and then wear it. I guess you know that I didn’t just wear the clothing. I got so excited that I just couldn’t help myself. Sometimes I would lie on the floor wearing of the bathroom clad in Emily’s Stockings and suspenders, a pair of her worn panties on my face, the crotch to my nose, and play with myself. Of course I had to be careful. I had to ensure that I tidied up and left no trace of my embarrassing games. After all, there would be hell to pay if it was discovered. But how was I going to be discovered I thought. And so my solitary games continued – until, of course I was caught.



Looking back it was so stupid. Mrs Carter tells me that I must have wanted to be caught, that it was a cry for help from a “suppressed sissy panty waist” – that’s what she calls me now. I don’t know – I don’t really know anything now. I just do as I’m told like the “silly sissy” Emily now calls me. And I blush every time she does.



So how did I get caught? Well after a few months of my games in the bathroom I became bold enough to remove a pair of Emily’s worn panties to the comfort of my bedroom. Well I thought, I’ll put them back in the wash basket tomorrow and enjoy them in the comfort of my room. Soon I found that my frequent excuses to Mrs Carter for a bath were no longer required. I simply rummaged through the laundry basket for suitable underwear, removed them to my room where I stored them under my pillow and then could “play” at night in the comfort of my bed. Inn the morning I would carefully return the purloined items to the basket.



One Saturday I came down from my room for the evening meal to see Emily dressed for a date. She looked so sexy. She was wearing a short satin dress flared at the waist and trimmed at the hem with an inch or too of net. She was wearing black stockings and black patent stiletto heels making her appearance statuesque. As I looked at her I imagined the fine lingerie that was being worn under the dress. Was it the black lacy set, I thought, or the red mesh set, or the ivory satin set? I knew I couldn’t ask her but I knew how I could find out later. For now I just had to conceal my stiffened member caused by the sight of Emily and my dirty mind. “Off out on a date?” I asked and Emily told me how her new boyfriend was taking her out for dinner and then to a club. “Well have a good time” was all I could say, wishing it was me that might get the opportunity to inspect the lingerie whilst Emily was wearing it.

That night I lay in my bed waiting to hear Emily return. It was in the small hours that I heard her open the front door and climb the stairs to her room. I heard her brushing her teeth in the bathroom and waited for about ten minutes after I heard her return to her room and close the door. I quietly crept to the bathroom and locked myself in – if any one noticed I would say that I’d needed to go in the middle of the night. When I approached the laundry basket I saw exactly what I was looking for. Emily’s lingerie, still warm from her body. What joy! But this was a new set – satiny, silky in white with black polka dots and edges in white lace. The panties were little more than a thong whilst the bra was under wired and stiff. I had to take them back to my room – I just had too, and I did. It being late, of course, I slept in the next morning and was woken by a knock on the door at about 9 am from Mrs Carter informing me that my breakfast was on the table and that if I wanted it I was to come down immediately as she wanted to start clearing up as she and Emily were off to Church.

Of course I forgot about the panties and bra that I’d taken during the night and played with in my bed before falling asleep. I did remember them whilst I was eating my breakfast but thought that I would have the opportunity to put them back in the wash after Mrs Carter and Emily had left. Which I did.

What I didn’t know was that Emily, had woken before me and realised that her new expensive lingerie was so delicate that it had to be hand washed and fearful that it might be accidentally put in the washing machine had decided to remove it from the laundry basket. Imagine her reaction when, upon searching the laundry basket she could not find her panties and bra? She had raised the topic with her mother who had raised an eyebrow, expressed surprise and then expressed the view that she was “sure they’d turn up sooner or later”. Whilst I quietly ate my breakfast ignorant of the Carter’s awareness that Emily’s lingerie was missing, Mrs Carter went upstairs and carried out a quiet search of my room. I of course was unaware of this fact. I did not know at the time that Mrs Carter had found the missing items under my pillow. It seems Mrs Carter was intent on catching me red handed and was not content with circ-umstantial evidence of the presence of the lingerie under my pillow. So she didn’t remove them, she didn’t challenge me and so far as I was aware, when I returned the lingerie to the laundry basket after they had left for church, I had “covered my tracks” and was in the clear.

Of course, being ignorant of the fact that Mrs Carter knew about my “nasty little habit” left me vulnerable to the trap that Mrs Carter was setting for me. I wasn’t suspicious of the increasingly delicious items that were appearing in the laundry basket. How was I to know that these were being purchased by Mrs Carter and left there by her knowing that I couldn’t resist them? The panties, bras and stockings were soon joined by slips and nighties. How could I resist their allure? How could I stop myself? As Mrs Carter later told me, I couldn’t. . Because I was a sissy, and “sissies cant resist such things”.

My undoing was the pink baby doll nightie with its lace trimmed shoulder straps and matching “tie sided” panties. It appeared in the basket one morning before I left for classes. I hoped that there wouldn’t be any washing done that day and it would still be there when it was bedtime. All day I thought about that nightie and imagined myself wearing it in bed. Unfortunately I was able to think of anything else.



That night I waited to hear Mrs Carter and go to their rooms for the night before creeping to the bathroom.  The nightie and panties were still there! Excitedly I took them back to my room removing as well a pair of Emily’s recently discarded panties. Of course the panties weren’t especially fine, but they had been worn by her and still bore the irresistible smell of her nether regions. Back in my room I quickly returned to my established routine. I donned the purloined items and, as an extra ersatz pulled Emily’s panties over my head so that I could smell her sex. My member was already stiff and I began to play with myself. I was so absorbed that I heard nothing before I was suddenly blinded by the light in my room being switched on and the covers of my bed being pulled back. “What!” was all I could manage through the panties on my head, before I was aware of another couple of blinding flashes and heard Mrs Carter’s voice say, in a very no nonsense manner “Caught you, you dirty little perverted sissy”. I instinctively tried to stand up but heard her say “stay exactly where you are” and felt her hand on my shoulder pushing me back down onto the bed.

I felt the panties being removed from my head and heard Mrs Carter say, “smile for the camera sissy” and I became aware that Emily was in my room too with a camera. I lay there as photograph after photograph was taken. “If you are sensible sissy, you’ll do exactly as we tell you – unless you’d like these photographs distributed around your class.” I knew then she had me where she wanted me.

“Its late sissy” she said “and tomorrow your knew life starts, so we all need our sleep, but before we do I’m going to show you how we deal with nasty little panty thieves in this house. Now get up. As I did so, Mrs Carter sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled me across her lap. “Emily, would you fetch me my hairbrush – the wooden one on my dressing table” “Certainly” replied Emily and I saw her smirk at me as she left the room. Whilst Emily was absent Mrs Carter began roughly pulling down the panties of my baby doll nightie.  Confusingly my member was still stiff and I was aware of it rubbing against Mrs Carter’s lap. Mrs Carter was addressing me throughout. Her tone was confusing – no longer angry, but controlled and in a strange way caring. “Yes I know what you need” she said “Well sort you out, just you wait and see”.

When Emily returned with the hairbrush and handed it to her mother the full import of my position had sunk in. “Please Mrs Carter, I’m sorry” was all I could say. I was scared and frighten. “I’m sure you’re sorry,” Mrs Carter calmly said. “You’ve been caught, of course you’re sorry, but don’t worry now that we know that you like dressing up we will ensure that you get all the help you need. First however I need to show you what happens to bad sissies who take things without asking” And with that my spanking began

I hadn’t been spanked since I was a child. I had never experienced anything so severe as the spanking Mrs Carter was giving me. I thrashed my legs about and kicked and screamed, but to no avail. She was a powerful woman and was able to hold me on her lap. The spanking continued with her striking my buttocks and upper thighs until I was reduced to a bawling sobbing rag doll. That was the natural and obvious consequence of the spanking. What wasn’t foreseeable – at least to me – was the accident that I had whilst I was being spanked. This became obvious to Mrs Carter, and Emily, when Mrs Carter pushed me off her lap, and I fell to the floor clutching my burning buttocks and sobbing. Mrs Carter looked down at the slimy mess with distaste. “Sissy” she coldly said, “lick that disgusting mess up this minute unless you want Emily to fetch my cane”.

Even though I was still sobbing, even though my nose was running and the thought of what I was being asked to do disgusted me, I quickly got to my knees and began licking the mess I’d deposited on her lap. “Lick all of that muck up like a good sissy,” she said. And I did.

As I was finishing I felt Emily take my chin in her cupped hand a firmly turn my head towards her. She had hunkered down beside me and I was conscious of her skirt having ridden up her nylon encased thighs. She pulled my face towards her. I could see that her eyes were sparking, her face glowing. She looked more beautiful to me than ever. Her look was not one of anger though – she exuded warmth and care, the sort of look you’d expect to give an injured child. “Aww sissy” she spoke gently “better get used to the taste as we’re are going to give you plenty of cleaning duties!” and with that she dropped a glance down towards her own lap, and I heard Mrs Carter chuckle in approval.

“Now then lets get you tucked up ready for tomorrow” said Mrs Carter rising to her feet and taking me by the ear. I had expected to sleep in my own bed. But Mrs Carter had other ideas. She led me by the ear, still sobbing and snivelling, down the corridor and into Mrs Carter’s bedroom. There at the foot of her bed was a large dog cage with a small mattress inside. “We don’t want you bolting before you try on your knew wardrobe do we sissy?” And this time it was Emily who laughed. “I’ve been busy in my workshop making you some beautiful outfits. And tomorrow your going to give us a little fashion show” Mrs Carter continued “so you’d better get some sleep – oh and another thing, tomorrow morning first thing you will hand wash my skirt”.

And with that she opened the cage door indicating I was to crawl in. Within minutes I could hear Mrs Carter get into her own bed. I lay there in the cage – still wearing that darn baby doll nightie feeling the heat from my stinging buttocks and contemplating what Mrs Carter and Emily had in store for me. Strangely though I couldn’t sleep – it wasn’t that I was scared – I certainly was – but I was buzzing too.









Please let me know if this is worth continuing.

[frillibabi]

Thank you all for your comments. Without feedback it is difficult to find the enthusiasm to continue, so keep them coming!













Part 2

As I lay in the cage at the foot of Mrs Carter’s bed it wasn’t long before I heard her soft rhythmic snoring indicating she had fallen asleep. I know it sounds bizarre, as if I didn’t realise that my present predicament had come about, literally, by my own hand, but I found my member beginning to swell within the nylon panties I was wearing. How could I resist the temptation? As Mrs Carter was to remind me, I couldn’t, because I was a sissy and sissies were weak and lacked will power. And so it was that I once again, for the second time in less than an hour, voided my self of my seed. Or as Mrs Carter and Emily were later to call it, my “sissies juice”. Finally, exhausted by the events of the last hour or so I fell into a deep sleep.

I was awoken the next morning by Mrs Carter who was standing at the head of my cage and kicking it with the toe of her black Malibu slippers. “Wakey Wakey Sissy” she said, “We have a busy day ahead. Let’s get up and get started”.

I looked up and could not avoid staring straight up Mrs Carter’s short nightie. I had never seen a woman’s private parts in real life – only the photographs in the girly magazines I bought and kept hidden in my wardrobe. They depicted young models that were shaved or neatly trimmed below. Mrs Carter was neither young, nor a model and clearly did not practice trimming or shaving. The result was something that was, to me quite intimidating.



Mrs Carter caught my stare and laughed “tut tut sissy, its rude to stare, but don’t worry, you’ll be getting well acquainted with that later – that, in fact, is going to be your best friend for a while” and she gave another laugh although I didn’t understand her meaning at the time. “Now out with you” and she bent to unlock the cage door.

I crawled out of the cage and stood before Mrs Carter. I quickly became aware of Mrs Carter staring at the front of my panties and looked down myself to see the tell tale white crusty deposit betraying my nocturnal self-pleasuring.



Mrs Carter shook her head and stared at me “Well looks like we have one especially silly sissy here!” and with that she walked to the bedroom door and called to Emily.



“Emily . . Emily, can you come here, you need to see this”

When Emily entered the bedroom I could feel myself becoming aroused and stiff again. She too was in her nightwear. She too wore a short baby doll nightie and it thin semi transparent fabric meant that not only the contour, but also the fine detail of her body was fully visible. I immediately noted that Emily, unlike her mother, subscribed to the same practice as the models in my magazines.



“Look” said Mrs Carter, pointing at my crotch and Emily looked and she too shook her head.



Emily approached me and I raised my eyes to hers. Like last night she again took my chin and held it between her thumb and index finger “Sissy” she gently said “you disappointment me with your dirty habits.  We really do not want to have to do this, but it is for your own good” She dropped her grip of my chin and stood there looking at me, her hands on her hips, a disappointed look on her face. I didn’t know what to say or how to react. I was about to mumble an apology when suddenly and with incredible speed and force, she struck my face with her right hand. The force of the blow caused my head to jolt violently to the right. Its trajectory was shortly stopped by a second, equally forceful blow from her left hand to my other cheek. I do not know if it was the shock, or the pain, or some subconscious attempt to avoid any further assault, but I fell to my knees. I heard Emily speak again “Sissy as you appear unable to control that” and she raised her right foot to gently flicked the tip of my straining member to emphasise her words “we shall have to control it for you” . Once again her hands had retuned to her hips and I stared up at her, as she towered imperiously above my kneeling body. Here she was, a girl younger than I but more, much more, in control of the situation.



“Up you get” said Mrs Carter, who was seated on her bed behind me. I turned to face her, my cheeks burning from Emily’s blows. She had removed one of her slippers. “I think a little reminder is in order, just to enforce the message” she said smiling. “Come here and get over my knee”. Knowing there was no alternative I hastened to comply. “And there better not be an accident this time – understand?” she said before lowering my panties and beginning the second spanking of my life.

When she was finished I was once again reduced to a blubbing snivelling wreck. I did, however, manage to avoid another accident thankfully as I knew the consequences would be extremely unpleasant. Nevertheless, when the spanking was over, and Mrs Carter unceremoniously dumped me off her lap and onto the floor, I lay there sobbing and clutching my burning buttocks before Emily ordered me to rise, and go and stand in the corner, nose pressed against the wall, with my hands on my head.

I do not know how long I stood in the corner, gently weeping. It was at least half an hour, perhaps an hour but it seemed like an eternity. Whilst I was there I was aware of Mrs Carter and Emily coming and going. I could here them talking and making preparations. When finally my period of “corner time” was over Emily led me by the ear into the bathroom.

I don’t imagine I need to go into the fine detail of how they prepared my body that morning. Suffice to say what little bodily hair I had was removed and I was thoroughly washed, both inside and out and generally primped and preened. A “home perm” and dye was applied to my hair, my eyebrows plucked and my nails and toenails painted a rather loud “bubblegum” pink. When Mrs Carter and Emily were satisfied with their endeavours I was led, fully naked, to a full-length mirror to see my new appearance. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I did not recognise the body that was reflected in the mirror though I was strangely excited by its appearance and this became apparent to Mrs Carter and Emily who could see my difficulty in avoiding the tell tale signs of sexual excitement. Emily, who was standing behind me lent forward and whispered in my ear “Careful sissy, I know you like what you see but you have to control yourself” but her physical proximity and warm breath on my ear did little to quell my exited state. The spell was broken by the production of a satin gown which I was told to wear before being led from the bathroom and down the stairs to that part of the house used by Mrs Carter as her sewing workshop.

[little monica]

the pace of your story is mesmerising and so incredibly descriptive



will be looking out for the next instalment and know it will be equally magnetic



hugs  xxx

[frillibabi]

Thank you all for your very kind comments which inspires me to continue the tale



. Here is the next instalment





That day I was to learn two things, at least: first, you could not die of shame – no matter how much you wished too, and likewise secondly, no matter how much you wished it, the earth would not open up and swallow you. But that lesson was for later in the day. On entering the workshop I was conscious of a number of short girlish dresses hung on hangers around the room. It looked as though Mrs Carter had received an order to supply a pageant competition. I had never ventured into that part of the house before and didn’t know that such garments were not the usual “stock in trade” for Mrs Carter. Later I was to learn that the majority of her work was bridal gowns and bridesmaid dresses.



As I stood in the centre of the room, extremely conscious of my nakedness and my still present erection, Mrs Carter and Emma busied themselves selecting dresses from the wall. As Emily turned to face me I could see that she was holding a white satin “little girls” party dress with puffed sleeves which were trimmed, like the hem, in lace. “I think we should try this one on him first, Mummy” Emily said to Mrs Carter, before noticing my still excited state. She pursed her lips and frowned at me. “I thought I told you to control yourself”. All I could do was look at the ground as I felt the heat rising to my cheeks. The truth was that Emily’s look and tone had excited me even more knowing the vulnerable state I was in.



“Well” she said, “I shall just have to control it then. Put your hands on your head Sissy”. I did as I was instructed wondering what was going to happen, as I heard her open a drawer and then approach me.

“Well don’t say I didn’t warn you” and then suddenly I was aware of her delivering a sharp blow to my swollen pen*s with a Perspex ruler. Another 3 or 4 crisp blows followed and whilst I flinched, nature took its course, and there ended my erection.

“Now I’ve got your attention I think we should fit you with this little cage. It means I wont need to use my ruler when your wearing it” she laughed, and I became aware of her cupping my scrotum in her hand and fitting a tube over my now deflated pen*s. Normally I would have thought that Emily’s proximity and touch would have sparked another bout of excitement, but I guess the ministration of her ruler had rather numbed me to her touch and, if truth be told I was rather apprehensive as to what was being fitted to such a sensitive part of my anatomy. Emily’s grasp was, in fact, so controlling that I found myself involuntarily rising on the balls of my toes in the hope that it would easy the pressure.



Mrs Carter, who was watching all this with an evil grin must have noticed my stance as she commented to her daughter “Looks like Sissy want her first pair of high heels” and Emily joined her mother in laughing at my predicament.



Suddenly I hear a “click” and Emily released her grasp “There we are” she announce “all tucked up nice and respectfully, and under my control” and she waved a small key in my face as she looked me in the eye and smiled.



“Now we don’t want to see that useless piece of apparatus, even if it is securely caged now, so you had better put these on,” said Mrs Carter who was now standing before he holding the waist band of a pair of frothy white satin rumba panties, the seat covered in rows and rows of white lace. “Common Sissy step into them” and she held them open for me just below the level of her waist. Had she lowered the panties to the level of my calves or ankles it would have been embarrassing enough, but having to sort of “high step” at the level she held them reinforced the humiliation of the exercise.

As Mrs Carter proceeded to draw the panties up my thighs and around my bottom I heard Emily whisper in my ear “there you go sissy, your very own panties – now there is no need for you to steal mine”.



“Lets get the dress on her mother” Emily said and there after I was told to step into the childish frilly concoction that Emily had earlier selected from the wall.

Soon both of them were circling me commenting to the other about my appearance.

“I think the dress is a little too long,” said Mrs Carter “I can’t quite see those delicious panties yet – they ought to be on display!”



Emily responded by suggesting that maybe a net petticoat would ‘do the trick’, and Mrs Carter agreed and fetched a short but stiff and full garment that I was again directed to ‘step into’.



Of course Emily was correct. Even I was aware that the effect of the petticoat was to push the hem of the dress out and therefore raise is level by a few critical inches. I could now feel the air on the tops of my thighs and was conscious that at least part of my frilly clad bottom would be on display even if I stood upright – if I leaned forward in any way the amount I showed would increase dramatically.



Both Mrs Carter and Emily seemed delighted with the result and jokes were made about me being a show off and I was teased by Emily who kept reciting “I see England, I see France, I see Sissy’s underpants!” which despite its childishness seemed to amuse both of them.



“What shall we put on her legs? “ Emily asked her mother “Stockings or tights – there are some nice white lacy tights in the drawer.

Mrs Carter looked me up and down thoughtfully. “No, I think sissy is a little young yet for either of those at the moment. Do you know where those lace trimmed ankle socks are?”



I found the constant talk about me and my appearance without being involved in the conversation really disconcerting and I suppose it was at this stage that I thought I ought to try and speak for myself. I was, however, deeply aware of my predicament. I suppose I was like Oliver Twist, about to ask for some more gruel. “Ppplease,” I stuttered, “please I don’t want to wear address” hoping, even at this stage that Mrs Carter and Emily would accede to my wishes.



My outburst – if it could truly be called an outburst – in reality it was more like a mouse squeak, had the effect of amusing my captors. I had feared they might be angry at my statement, but it reduced them to laughter.

When Mrs Carter had recovered herself she approached me and took my hands in hers, speaking gently to me “Sissy, Sissy. Why in the world do you think that we care what you want? We know what you are. We know what is best for you. We know what you need. If you asked a 5 year old what they wanted to eat they’d say ice cream most of the time, but it wouldn’t be good for them. What you want isn’t good for you – it will only lead to trouble for you and others. I mean stealing panties? Constant mast*rbation? Where would that lead? What good could come of that? None! What we are doing to you is good for you whether you understand now or not. So you be a good Sissy. Don’t speak unless you are spoken to, and remember that if you can’t behave, Mr Hairbrush will have to pay another visit to your botty!” and she looked at me, not with a look of anger, or amusement, but I sensed then that she did deeply care for me and much as I hated my predicament I sort of understood what she meant.



Whilst Mrs Carter had been delivering her little speech Emily had fetched the ankle socks and had knelt by my side to assist me in putting them on. She had also brought a pair of flat whit patent leather shoes in a style often referred to as “Mary Jane’s”. When these were securely buckled onto my feet Mrs Carter cut a length of satin ribbon from a large roll on the table and secured it around my waist tying, what I was later to see, a large bow at my back.



Emily took me by the hand and led me to the wall opposite which was lined with mirrors. My image reflected back at me. I looked like a 5 or 6 year old from the 50’s or 60’s dressed in her birthday party best. The shortness of the dress coupled with the absence of any cover until my short ankle socks mage me look incredibly “leggy” and venerable. Emily brought over a large portable mirror on a stand and placed it strategically so that I could see my appearance from the rear. I could see the large bow tied by Mrs Carter, and I could see that I was displaying a glimpse of panties below the billowing hemline.



Mrs Carter was correct I knew. The proof was the excited feeling I felt at my appearance. Excitement that caused me, involuntarily, to try and obtain an erecti*n. The problem however was the contraption fitted by Emily earlier would not permit any growth or swelling and its restrictive form caused incredible pain and discomfort, so much so that my eyes began to water.



I do not know if Emily was aware of the real reason for the single tear that fell from my eye and rolled down my cheek, or whether this was just another example of her teasing and humiliating manner, but on seeing it she turned to her mother and said:

“Oh look Mummy, Sissy is so happy with what we have done for her that she’s crying!” and with that she embraced me in her arms and hugged me closely. How long had I wanted to be as close as that to Emily? Now I was Emily’s, but not in a way I had ever imagined.

[frillibabi]

Sorry for the delay in briging you the next instalment - hope the wait has been worth it!

Mrs Carter looked at me with a sly smile. I could tell that she was enjoying my discomfort and knew that she had me where she wanted me: “Where you belong,” she later told me.

She produced a pink tissue and told me to dry my eyes before she gave me something to cry about and then to get the dress off and put on the gown. “We shall have something to eat before you have a little nap. We have a busy afternoon ahead and I don’t want you getting tired and throwing a tantrum – beware you don’t!” she warned in her no nonsense manner.

I was gently led into the kitchen and told to sit whilst Emily and Mrs Carter busied themselves. I must admit that my mind was in turmoil. I don’t think that the full import of what was happening had yet come home to me. I thought, at that stage that this was just a cruel game that was being played. That Mrs Carter and Emily were, perhaps justifiably, angry at my misuse of Emily’s lingerie. I was embarrassed at that my “dirty habits” as Emily called them had been discovered and I think I accepted that the spankings and the humiliations that I’d received were a fair response to my behaviour. I did not realise that Mrs Carter had recognised something deeper in me. As she was to tell me in due course, her treatment of me was not motivated as punishment – it was what she knew I needed to be myself. What would I have done had I known? I think I would have bolted for the door, dressed even as I was, and taken my chances on the street. But I didn’t. I sat there in my frilly undies and satin gown and watched the elegant Emily as she happily arranged the plates.
Mrs Carter and Emily drank tea – I on the other hand was proffered warm milk. Whilst the Carters drank from china teacups, I drank from a plastic tippee mug with double handles. I thought of protesting and the imposition of this juvenile status but decided not to push my luck but to finish the drink as quietly and quickly as possible. However, when Emily realised that the mug was empty, she commented to her mother that “sissy must be very thirsty!” and Mrs Carter directed her to fill the mug again.
I have to say that milk in any state was not my favourite drink and I would have preferred tea, or even coffee and after the I had finished the second mug and Emily set out to refill it again I made the point. My comments were greeted with a look of mirth on the Carter’s faces.

“Whoever heard of such a thing, child!” Mrs Carter laughed, and Emily joined in with “Oh no. They would give you a tummy upset! You need milk to help you grow up into a big pretty sissy!” Now of course I realise that the “milk” was not just the dairy variety, but contained various supplements and hormones and other chemicals that would soon be coursing through my body slowly taking their effect. But I was ignorant of that fact at that stage. One of the active ingredients in those early doses was a combination of sedatives and muscle relaxants and so, as I managed to down the third mug I began to find myself feeling tired and weak.

Emily was obviously looking out for the tell tale signs of the potent draft doing its work. Whether she noticed my eyelids dropping or the way I lost my grip on the mug as I tried to put it on the table she commented to her mother “I think sissy needs her nap now” and Mrs Carter announced “Right then, Sissy, lets get you upstairs and we’ll get you ready for a little rest. Come on Emily, I think Sissy needs a hand” and with that each placed and arm under me and lifted me from the chair and led me up the stairs.
As we passed the bathroom Mrs Carter directed us to stop. Ceremoniously she produced a key on a long chain from her pocket and locked the bathroom door from the outside. I wondered what she was doing until she held the key up to me and said “from now on Sissy, the bathroom is off limits to you. I have a key, and Emily has a key . . . you have a potty!” and she smiled. Emily sniggered at the joke her mother had made. “If you need to go potty you must ask me or Emily first. We shall then decide if you really need it or not. Do you understand?” I silently nodded my understanding of this further imposition of the childish status they were imposing upon me. Mrs Carter then placed the chain around her neck before leading me on, to her bedroom.
When we arrived in the bedroom the gown and frillies were removed. I was told to lie on a large towel placed on Mrs Carter’s bed whilst Emily busied herself in the chest of drawers by the wall.

“Do you think Sissy should wear some nappies?” enquired Emily.

“What!” I squeaked. I was embarrassed enough, but the mention of nappies was a stage too far for me and shocked me from my docile state. “I don’t need nappies – please Mrs Carter, not nappies I pleaded”

Mrs Carter glowered at me “what did you call me sissy?” she enquired with menace. I suddenly remembered her instructions “Mummy, sorry, Mummy, but no nappies please! I don’t need them,” I wailed. I think my begging impressed her as she seemed placated.

“I think we’ll give sissy the benefit of the doubt for the moment” She said “mind you, if you do have an accident you’ll be in hot water young lady” she warned, “Very hot water. So what do you say sissy”

“Thwank you Mummy” I said, and she beamed at me “Good girl, good sissy”
She looked over at Emily and said “We’ll try her with some trainer pants and see how she does – are the lemon one there? “ and Emily brought over a pair of thin towelling panties encased in a soft plastic lemon plastic cover. These were placed over my feet and drawn up my legs until they fitted snugly.

“We don’t want sissy getting cold do we Emily I think some cotton tights would be good” and with that a pair of white ribbed tights were produced and fitted. Finally a “onesie” vest which was white and decorated with pink roses was added to my outfit. I could fell the snugness of the fit at Emily bent and pulled the “poppers” securing me into my childish outfit. The only positive for me was that as Emily bent over me I was able to inhale her wonderful aroma and I was conscious of her soft hands pulling the crotch and securing the fittings.

Next I was told to sit up, and Emily applied cold cream to remove the make up from my face. This completed I was treated to the ignominy of having a lacy baby’s bonnet placed on my head and a large bow tied under my chin to secure it. Mrs Carter then produced a pair of large fleecy mittens which she cured on my hands announcing, much to my embarrassment  “We don’t want sissy amusing herself in her pretty panties, do we?” to which, of course, Emily laughed.

Finally I was placed back in the cage at the foot of Mrs Carter’s bed.
“Now get some rest Sissy” Mrs Carter instructed “we’ll be back up in a couple of hours, and I don’t want to hear a peep from you, or Mr Hairbrush will come calling! Understand?” “Yes” I meekly replied.

Mrs Carter went to the curtains and drew them. As she and Emily were about to leave Emily turned to her mother and said “Oh Mummy, I almost forgot to give her this” and she pulled from her pocket a large dummy on a pink ribbon. “Oh yes, she’ll need that” laughed Mrs Carter. Emily came over to the cage and hunkered down to my level – it was impossible, given our relative positions – for me not to look up her short skirt and note the dainty satin underwear encasing her female charms. I felt my p*nis tighten in its cage as it tried to respond in the only way it knew. I think Emily knew what she was doing and the effect it was having on me. She smiled at me and reached through the bars of the cage inserting the dummy in my mouth “There, there,” she said “lets not have any more dirty thoughts shall we” and she wished me sweet dreams before she turned off the light and she and Mrs Carter left the room, leaving me alone, in the cage, in the semi darkness of the room suc-king a dummy. It cannot have taken long before the sedatives did their work and I drifted off to sleep, ignorant of what arrangement were and had been made for me for the remainder of the day.

[frillibabi]

I do not know how long I was asleep, and I was truly ignorant of the plans and arrangements that had been taking place whilst I slept. From drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep, the next sensation I was aware of was Mrs Carter standing beside my cage shouting at me “You dirty, dirty little girl. Get out of that cage at once!” At first I was totally unaware of what had brought this torrent of abuse upon my head, but I very quickly realised that I had wet myself as I slept. The thin towelling lining of the trainer pants, designed to catch the odd leak or dribble, had clearly been unable to contain the full contents of my bladder. Not only were the panties soaked, but so was the crotch of the “onesie” and the cotton tights, from the waist down to about mid-thigh. As I came to I was of a number of unpleasant sensations: the panties and tights were not just wet, but cold too, and they clung to my skin in an unpleasant manner. Additionally, my “accident” was obvious not just from looking at me, but because there was a strong odour of urine emanating from my wet clothing. Mrs Carter had her hands on her hips and was looking down at me disdainfully, her annoyance and disapproval self-evident.



As I crawled out of the now unlocked cage she began to berate me again “So, you said you didn’t need a nappy! Well you obviously did. You obviously don’t know what you need do you?” I could not bear to look her in the face embarrassed, as I was to have not been able to control my bladder. I didn’t think her comment required an answer so I merely stared at the floor hoping that she would help me out of the cold wet smelly clothing.



“Well?” she sneered, “Answer me Sissy”. There was only one answer, and I sheepishly proffered it “No, Mummy” to which she retorted “No indeed! Now get that dummy back in your mouth and I don’t want to hear another word from you unless you’re spoken to or you’ll be even bigger trouble than you are already. I was going to put you in your party dress for our guests, but I’ve got another idea now. Come with me” and she firmly took hold of my ear, twisted it and began to pull me so that I was forced to follow her.



We left the bedroom and I imagined that she was taking me into the bathroom so that I could shower and was myself clean. However we passed the bathroom door and Mrs Carter began to guide me down the stairs and towards the living room from where I could hear the sound of voices.



Mrs Carter began to address me again “I thought it didn’t matter that they arrived a little early and that you were still asleep. I said I’d fetch you and it wouldn’t take a minute or too to dress you. But you had to pee your panties didn’t you girl? And after I had offered you a nappy too? Either you are a silly sissy or a wicked naughty one. It doesn’t matter which to me. You’ll be sorry – if you don’t believe me just wait and see.”



I did believe her, truly, but I knew that there was no point in telling her and, besides, at that point we had just reached the living room door and I was propelled in by Mrs Carter who announced “Here she is girls – the stupid sissy baby appears to be a Miss Pissypants too!” which was met with a peel of laughter.



Seated comfortably in the room was Mrs Carter’s living room were 2 women and Emily. Whist I recognised them from photographs as Mrs Carter’s elder married daughters Verity and Jane I had never met them.



They were all elegantly dressed. Verity must have been about 27 or 28. She was tall with dark hair cut with a longish straight fringe with the sides cut back at an angle. She had green brown eyes that had been heavily made up making them appear unnaturally large. She was wearing a cream blouse, tight fitting, with a plunged neckline which drew attention to her prominent bre*sts whose appearance was clearly enhanced by an uplift bra. Her skirt was made of green satin and was clear full in cut and exposed 3 or 4 inches of leg above the knee. Her long legs were encased in smoky grey nylons and to complete her outfit she wore a pair of cream stilettos.

Jane too made a striking appearance. She was perhaps 24 or 25. She had long blonde hair that was tied back behind her head so that one could see the perfect oval of her face. She too was had expertly applied make up and the deep crimson of her lipstick made her look not only sensual but severe to. She was wearing a simple black strapless coc-ktail cut to mid thigh, dark nylons and she too wore stilettos that were black patent.



The object of my desire, and lust, Emily wore the same out fit as she had for her date that I had so admired.



I stood before these beautiful women, dressed as in my fantasies, and realised how I appeared to them as an object of derision. It would have been bad enough had I not wet myself, but my “accident” only succeeded in debasing me further. It could not get worse, or so I thought.



“I think this sissy needs a lesson – what do you think girls?” And the girls all chortled and agreed. Emily was dispatched to fetch the hairbrush and Mrs Carter left the room to get her apron as I stood, shamefaced, suc-king my dummy before Verity and Jane.

It was Jane who spoke first “Not a good start sissy eh?” and she laughed. Verity joined in the humiliation. She raised the toe of her shoe so that it was touching my crotch. The action caused her skirt to rise up her thighs so that I became aware that she was wearing stockings. “Is this getting you all stiff” she sneered. “I bet it is” which caused her and Jane to laugh again. My cheeks were burning.

When Mrs Carter returned she was wearing a rubber apron securely tied behind her back. She pulled up a straight-backed chair and put it in the centre of the room before sitting on it, and beckoning me over with a crooked finger. “Stand there sissy” and she pointed to a spot directly in front of her.



When I had complied Mrs Carter, with much tutting, and sniggering from the Verity and Jane, undid the poppers of the “onesie”, and lowered the tights and sodden trainer panties exposing my cold damp bottom. This accomplished I was pulled round to her side and then over her lap.



At this point Emily returned with the hairbrush and, having handed it to her mother with a “There you are mummy, I’m looking forward to this!” she took a seat opposite on the settee beside her elder sisters.

Mrs Carter then began what was my most painful spanking. She punctuated each spank with a comment, such as “silly silly sissy” or “you’ll not make this mistake again girl” I do not know how long it lasted or how many spanks I received. I was aware of comments from her daughters such as “that’s it Mummy, give it to her good” or “that’ll teach her” or even “harder, Mummy, harder”.



When it was over I was dumped unceremoniously on the floor at Mrs Carters feet. I was blubbing, my nose running, desperately trying to rub my burning bottom.

Mrs Carter looked down at me imperiously. “Get up girl, I think we’ll have you in the corner for half an hour until you compose yourself” I started to waddle towards the corner indicated by Mrs Carter, my movement restricted by the sodden panties and tights that were now around my ankles.



“Just a minute” Verity announced and I stopped. I thought that she was going to help me remove the tights and panties as she hunkered town and took hold of them, but instead, to the laughter of the others, she began pulling the panties and tights back up my legs so that my freshly spanked burning bottom was encased in the cold wetness of my pee. “That should cool your botty down,” she laughed as she led me to the corner and forced my nose into the wall. “Not a peep or movement until you’re told” she warned.



I stood there for what seemed an eternity trying to my blubbing and regain my composure. Whilst I did so I could hear their conversation. They talked about me and what I had done, they talked about men and their experiences. I was deeply embarrassed to hear Emily tell her sisters and her mother of her exploits with her latest boyfriend, and how highly sexed he was. They discussed their experiences of how to deal with such men without allowing intercourse, after which they said, men were no longer interested in you. They agreed that it was necessary to keep a man hungry and they each graphically described how they could use their hands or tongues to great effect. I knew from Mrs Carter that Verity worked for the Police and that Jane was a nurse. Verity told them she was working in a sex offences unit now and that she came across lots of incidents were men clearly couldn’t control themselves. That they were having such a conversation in my presence truly indicated just how worthless they viewed me.



After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably about half and hour I was told to turn round and face them. “I think that its time to get you out of those wet clothes and into a nappy sissy, isn’t it girls?” announced Mrs Carter.



Her daughters all smiling now agreed. A large rubber sheet was produced and laid out on the floor. I was stripped naked and told to kneel on my hands and knees on the sheet. A warm flannel was produced and my bottom thighs and tummy was washed to remove all traces of the urine that had now dried on my skin.



“Do you think we should do something about sissy’s testosterone level before we put her in a nappy” Jane enquired. “An excellent idea” agreed Mrs Carter “it will make her easier to handle, will you do the honours Jane, after all you must have some training in that field?”



“Oh yes” replied Jane “fortunately I’ve brought my kit with me. Emily, would you remove his cage, its cleaner if we do it that way”



I did not understand what was being discussed but I was delighted when Emily produced the key and began unlocking my coc-kcage. In order to do so she had to hold my scrot*m in one hand whilst she used the key in the other. Her physical proximity as I kneeled naked on the mat caused involuntary swelling so that, as soon as the key was unlocked the cage flew apart and fell on the mat. All that Emily said was “Tut tut sissy, now behave”.



Jane kneeled on the mat beside me. She was wearing latex gloves now. She reached under me and took hold of a my pen*s which, after a few swift pulls by her became hard. “Easy there” Jane laughed in my ear, as she let go and I heard her tear open a package. A few seconds later she was fitting a condom over my now excited member.

“Now just relax” Jane calmly spoke and I felt her insert her gloved finger into my bottom. Instinctively I tightened my muscles against this intruder but I quickly received a sharp smack to my thigh and was reminded of the need to relax.



For a minute or two Jane probed and prodded before declaring “that’s it, now we are ready for the next stage. I heard a click, and a low hum and then something long and thin and vibrating was pushed into my bottom.



At first I felt like I needed to pee. Then the sensation passed. It was not unpleasant. My pen*s remained hard.

“How long will it take?” asked Emily who was standing above me, on the opposite side to Jane.



“We should be done in about 10 minutes or so” replied Jane.

With that Emily wandered back to the settee and sat beside Verity, who was staring at me in a manner that made me very uncomfortable.



There was not much chat amongst the Carter women apart from the odd enquiry to Jane as to “How is it going” and her replies of “slowly” or “nearly there” but after about 7 or 8 minutes I became aware of a tingling sensation at the tip of my pen*is and I started to breathe a little heavier.



Jane looked down at the condom encased pen*s and announced “its starting” and all the women came over and knelt down to see. I of course couldn’t see what they were looking at. What I understood though was that somehow, without me having the pleasure of an orgasm, my semen was being extracted from my body.

“So how does it feel like to be milked Sissy” laughed Jane which, provoked hoots of laughter from the others.

After a few more minutes Jane declared herself satisfied. The instrument was switched off and removed. I was instructed to lean forward so that my hips were higher than my shoulders and Jane, still wearing her latex gloves placed her hand under me and removed the now filled condom.

I could see that it was not the sort one bought at the chemist – it was made of thick white latex and was surgical strength. Jane used a clip to seal the top of it and then placed it in a small surgical jar which she handed, with a smile to Verity.

Verity was now beaming with delight. In fact all the women looked ecstatic and I couldn’t understand why there had been a change of mood in the room.

Verity stood up and walked over to where I was kneeling.



“Now we’ve really got you sissy” she smiled “Now there really is no escape for you! You see the photos Mummy took of you in your bed last night might be embarrassing – that might make you want to leave this town and go somewhere else, so we needed something more to ensure your compliance and now we have it. I have a sample of your semen, containing your unique DNA. What use is it, you may think? Well it all to do with context sissy.” She looked at me with that sly, knowing smile.



“To a Police Women in the sexual Offences unit who encounters rapes and murders with little or no evidence of the identity of the offender the finding of semen traces on the victim or their underwear would not only be compelling, but probably conclusive evidence of guilt. So sissy, you know do as you’re told here – or I plant this semen in enough places to get you put away as a sex offender for life – and I mean life!”

And having delivered her thunderbolt she returned to her seat, dropped the jar into her handbag and smiled at her Mother.



“Ok Mummy I think we can begin”.



Mrs Carter addressed me. “Sissy Emily and Jane are going to put you in your nappy now and dress you. Whilst they are doing so Verity and I have some doc-umentation to sort out and some other arrangements to make. Then I’ll explain to you how its going to be. So just do as you are told and don’t cause any problems. Jane has plenty of experience to make you uncomfortable if you are troublesome.



It was too late for running now. As Emily and Jane raised me up and led me from the living room towards the workshop I began to realise what type of hell I had consigned myself too.





Comments please!

[frillibabi]

In my shock at how trapped I was now – and what they might have in store for me, I meekly accompanied Emma and Jane into the workshop. Mrs Carter had obviously been busy whilst I had been napping for now several outfits wear prominently displayed on hangars arranged around the room. They ranged in style from the little girl party dress that they had put me in before, to a much more grown up mini dress that was quite slutty in its style. Additionally I noticed that there where various items of the most feminine lingerie on display too.

I was led to a “swivel” type chair and instructed to sit. Whilst Emma and Jane exchanged chatter about eye shadow colours, lipstick shades and nail varnishes I sat quietly. “Sissy’s very quiet” observed Emma and Jane laughed replying “maybe she’s saying her energy till later” which caused Emma to chuckle. I really had no idea what they were talking about.

“You know Jane, whilst I like the little girl look, and think that sissy needs to spend some time in nappies, I think that for this afternoon we need something much more grown up, what do you think?”

Jane looked me up and down and smiled “Yes, I think your right. The little girl look is hardly appropriate, is it?

“That’s exactly what I was thinking” Emma said, “So what do you think? Shall we?” and she shot her sister a wicked grin.

“Yes, lets!” replied Jane.
I was told to stand and the clothes I was wearing were removed.

A pair of lacy red satin panties edged in black lace trim were produced and I was instructed to step into them. Next a matching bra was held up to my view. “You like Sissy” Emma laughed “Not unlike the ones you liked to steal eh?” which caused me to blush. “But before you wear it, there is a little adaptation we need to do.”
At that point Jane stepped forward holding two small false breasts made from what looked like a flesh coloured material. “We just need to stick these on first to give you a proper girly shape,” She said in a rather matter of fact tone. “Don’t worry, they are only temporary. In a few months you’ll be developing your own, won’t you sweetie” and again the sisters began sniggering.

Once the breasts forms were in place the bra was added and Jane set about adjusting the straps and ensuring that the cups supported the false breast forms.
“Stockings – she must have stockings” Jane announced, “what do you think, tan or charcoal? “

Emma tilted her head and looked at me. I saw her glance over at the slutty mini dress and then back at me “Oh I think the charcoal stockings with the seams will do the job. Don’t you?” and Jane agreed.

I was told to stand and a black lace trimmed suspender belt was produced and fitted. It was Jane who tucked the straps under the panties and pulling the garter bit down before unwrapping the stockings and sliding them up my now shaking legs. A few minutes were spent ensuring the seams were straight.
Again Emma spoke to humiliate me “I’m sure you’ve done this before on your own, haven’t you, you little wanker?” and my blush betrayed me “I thought so” was her response.

When they were satisfied with the seams I was told to do a “little turn” for them so they could see how I looked from the back.

“Look at that little bum” Jane laughed “I’m sure the men will find it irresistible” and this set the girls off laughing again.

Minutes later I was wearing the slutty mini dress and wearing a pair of black strappy open toed heels. It was decided that a little jewellery was required to enhance my appearance and Emma disappeared off to her room to bring a few items whilst I was left alone with Jane.

“Well quite the little tart, aren’t we?” she said staring directly into my eyes. I tried to avoid her look and stared at the ground “Look at me when I’m talking to you Sissy” she commanded, and I knew better than to refuse. “That’s better,” she cooed. “Now then Sissy, I want to see you walk around the room to see how you move. Go on. . walk!” I followed her command, conscious of how the shoes pinched my feet – how the air felt on my bare thighs just covered by the short dress. Fortunately I had only a few minutes of this before Emma returned.

Once again I was told to be seated and I whilst Emma clipped some large earrings in place, Jane took my hand and placed a couple of rings on my fingers. Bangles followed, as did some necklaces.

The girls sniggered. I had not seen my appearance but could imagine the look they had devised for me.

“I think sissy would like to see herself, don’t you?” Jane spoke. I was led by the hand to the full-length mirror at the back of the workshop. What I saw both exited and appalled me. Had I seen a girl dressed and made up as I was I would have had one thing and one thing only on my mind. And I would have believed the girl was asking for it too! What would I have called her? A slut, a chav, trashy. You get the idea. My eyes were heavily made up with pale blue eye shadow; I had long eyelashes and bright red lipstick. Blusher had been applied to my cheekbones. My hair was pulled tightly back leaving a shortish fringe that fell over my forehead.

The shortness of the dress made it clear that I was wearing stockings which emphasised my legs. The dress was cut “off the shoulder” so that the lacy bra straps were visible. I looked, and felt vulnerable. Emma and Jane pronounced themselves happy with the look and chatted about how pleased “Mummy” would be.
I didn’t have long to wait to discover they were correct. I was led back into the living room where Mrs Carter and Verity were seated. Verity actually applauded when I was led in and let out a few “whoops”. Mrs Carter just smiled and said “Well done girls, well done”. Then she addressed me.

“Sissy, there is some paperwork for you to sign. This is a letter to the University stating that having thought about re-sitting the year again you have come to the conclusion that academic life is not for you and that you wish to withdraw with immediate effect. This letter is to your parents. It informs them that you have left university and that you are going to spend a little time travelling before you decide what you want to do. You apologise for not visiting them before you go abroad, but that you will try and keep in touch but they must not worry about you.”

The letters were placed before me and a Verity produced a pen which I took. I know I had no alternative and, rather shakily, signed the letters.

“Good” said Mrs Carter “They can be posted off tomorrow. Now just a couple of other forms for you. This is a change of name form that we will be processing in due course”

The doc-ument was placed before me – I could see that she had chosen the name Cecilia for me. “Yes, we thought Cecilia very suitable Cecilia Carter, the Sissy of the family!” and of course the rest of the Carter family laughed. “Sign please” and she pointed to where my signature was required. “No need to date them, we’ll take care of that. Now, finally” and she paused menacingly “These are a couple of medical consent forms required for gender reassignment treatment – evidently the hospital Jane works at has a very skilled and experienced department in that field.”
I had not been expecting this – I could hear my heart beating – my mouth was dry. I thought my legs would buckle beneath me. Mrs Carter stared at me. “You do have a choice Sissy, its very simple. Either you sign these forms, or Verity will ensure that your semen finds its way into enough crime scenes to ensure your conviction and incarceration for life. Its not difficult is it?” and she looked at me and smiled. And she was right. So I signed and swallowed hard.

“Now then Sissy” Mrs Carter began as she placed the forms into a large manila envelope “this is how it’s going to be. Starting tonight we intend to regress you to the status of a little baby girl – you know what that will entail as you’ve had a taste of it this morning. You will be progressed at the rate of about 1 year every month. However if you misbehave during that period you may have to spend longer. So in about 18 months time, if you have behaved and learnt how to act appropriately at each age, you will become an adult young lady. At that stage you will be able to begin to pay us back for the insults that you have caused by your dirty nasty thieving habit and the kindness that we have displayed to you. Do you know how you will do that?” and she looked at me in a threatening manner.

“Well Sissy?”

All I could do was stammer a “No Mummy”

“Well Sissy, you are dressed and made up in a style that will become everyday to you when your training period is over. And we thought it would be good for you to know and appreciate what the future holds for you.

As she spoke the doorbell rang. “Ah, bang on time! Verity, would you get that” and Verity rose to answer the door.
Who was it? Who was going to be let in on my humiliation? I didn’t have long to wait.

Two boys entered the room. They were probably about my age, but skinny and dressed in baseball caps and trainers. The boys were introduced by Verity as Darren and Wayne. Evidently she knew the pair from her police work – they were well known to the police generally – and lived on the nearby housing estate.
“Thanks for coming boys” Verity greeted them “Its ok” Wayne grunted and Darren looked at me and asked “Is this her?”

“Full marks Darren” Verity laughed, “You’ll make a policeman yet” which caused Wayne and Darren to laugh. “Why don’t you sit down on the settee and make yourself comfortable.” And the boys sat on the settee opposite Mrs Caret and Verity.

Verity now turned to me. “Sissy, the boys are here for a blowjob. I’ve told them how good you are – don’t make me look stupid. Now get to work.”

I thought I was going to be sick. My legs locked. I looked at these to yobs who were already pulling there tracksuit bottoms down and taking out their ugly fat pen*ses.
Time seemed to freeze. The silence was broken by Emma who began to chant “Go Girl, Go Girl” which was taken up by first Verity and then Jane. Mrs Carter stood and, placing a hand under my arm, propelled me across the room to where the boys sat. Placing both hands on my shoulders she pushed down until my knees buckled and I fell to the floor.

As I took the first one in my mouth, the chant changed to “suc-k suc-k suc-k” and my head began to swim. Mrs Carter was still behind me. I can’t say how long, but it was no more than a few minutes and I began to feel Wayne’s legs begin to tighten and twitch. He placed his hands on the back of my head and began thrusting hard. It was obvious from his shouts that he was c-umming. I heard Mrs Carter say “I want it all swallowed down – if any of it spills on the carpet they’ll be trouble!” and I dutifully obeyed.

When I’d finished Wayne looked at Darren and smiled “Your go now mate . . . she’s quite a whore” which caused another laugh from the Carter family.

For the second time in my life I took a male member in my mouth and followed the chant of “suc-k suc-k suc-k” with the same inevitable result. When I was finished I felt embarrassed and ashamed. The boys, on the other hand were elated.

“Well” asked Verity “Was I right?” and Wayne and Darren agreed that she was, with Darren commenting that I was “a professional”.

“Ok boys, off you go. Next time though it will cost you £20 each. Ok?
And the boys left smiling and joking saying they’d have to steal something to get the money.

When they left Mrs Carter turned to me. “I’m glad you didn’t disappoint us Sissy. So know you know what the future holds. We have 18 months or so to get you ready. By then I think you might be earning more than £20 a time though!” and once again the laughter began. “Yes” said Mrs Carter “ I think we’ve just won the lottery!”