The Second Floor

[petticoated]

Leighton was a smallish "man." Barely twenty years old. But he looked much younger. Boyish, actually, with some decidedly Feminine features. 5'6" and weighed maybe 130 lbs. He had let his curly blonde hair grow to just beyond his shoulders. He had a pretty face. Oh, yes. Pretty. Very pretty. Leighton was terrified of Women...especially assertive looking and Femininely dressed women. Women who walked with confidence. Women who looked disdainfully at Leighton when they caught him staring at them. What they probably didn't realize, however, is that Leighton was studying them. He studied their makeup. He studied their dresses. Especially their dresses. Their shoes, definitely if they were wearing heels. He studied their hair, their earrings, and, oh yes, their purses. Leighton even wondered what lipstick , eye shadow palette, even blush might be in their purses. Was there perhaps even a fluffy makeup brush inside, he would ask himself. You see, Leighton was envious. He was envious of their Femininity. Envious of their power. Their confidence. Everything that exuded their ultrafemininity attracted  little Leighton like a moth to a flame. Like a sissy to a Petticoat. Like a pretty little sissyboi to complete submission and unquestioned obedience. Then one day, in the mail, Leighton received a beautiful picture postcard featuring a pretty girly store window just full of dresses and petticoats. Frilly little dresses, mostly in Pinks, whites, pastels, satin, and lace. Lots of lace! And scattered beneath all of those sweet frilly frocks were oodles of petticoats. Multitiered, flared, bouffant mostly. You see, Leighton's extensive search history of Feminization, Sissification, and Petticoating had been rewarded with this simple Feminine postcard from "Cinderella  Dress Shop." What would little Leighton do? Oh, what would he do, he wondered, as his little heart fluttered rapidly and his sissy fantasies ran wild...

[BabyJay]

Hello Petticoated. Great start to what sounds like an interesting story. Will he visit shop and meet a stunning assistant who will take him in hand and turn him into a beautiful little sissy slave girl and dress him in wonderful little girls dresses and frilly knickers and teach him how to minister to her needs? Look forward to next chapters.

[petticoated]

Leighton studied the mesmerizing card closely. The Cinderella Dress Shop's mannequins were Girls...at least most of them. Save for three or four that seemed to have some rather androgynous features, he noticed. At least they seemed androgynous to Leighton. Of course, it was those mannequins which piqued Leighton's interest. Actually, they piqued little Leighton's "interest" excitedly. Very excitedly. The faces of the other mannequins seemed to be of Girls. Pretty Girls. Feminine Girls. Girly Girls. Of course, Leighton's other focus was on the Party Dresses the mannequins were wearing. He couldn't get over how super frilly all of their dresses appeared to be. Were most of them satin? Some were tulle, he knew. Their Dresses were short, above their knees, definitely buttressed by stiff lacy Petticoats. Leighton's attention was redirected to the androgynous mannequins. One of them, especially. The somewhat...shall we say it...the somewhat "sissyish" looking mannequin. "Her" Party Dress made no effort at all to conceal its poufy Petticoats. The expression on this model's face was one of trepidation. Embarrassment, perhaps. And because this model was in the center of Cinderella's large window display, the mannequins immediately surrounding the rather sissy-looking model all seemed to have laughing faces. Two of the Girly mannequins seemed to be pointing at the featured model. The androgynous model. With short brown hair. Pixie style. The model wlth the shortest and frilliest party frock of them all. And wearing the only Dress in pale baby blue.  With all of those very visible frothy white lace crinoline Petticoats just meant to be displayed. On the model with the frightened look on her face. The androgynous one. Leighton's heart began to beat faster. His breathing became more rapid. Somewhat labored, almost, for a boy like him. There was no address on the card. He pulled out his phone. His initial searches were futile. Leighton's excitement intensified. His desperation to learn more about Cinderella Dress Shop exacerbated his fantasies of Sissification, Forced Feminization, and Petticoating. He just had to find the Cinderella Dress Shop. Leighton need not worry because, in due time, the Cinderella Dress Shoppe would find Leighton...

[BabyJay]

The plot deepens. Looks like Leighton is hooked. Both frightened and excited at the prospect of visiting the shop and seeing that blue little girl dress. Eagerly awaiting next chapters.

[petticoated]

Leighton English had never had a girlfriend. At least never in the traditional sense. Leighton always found himself quickly relegated to the friend zone. While in school, he was always the last boy chosen in his PE classes for any team sport. Frequently, when it was a coed team, many girls were picked first over Leighton. Some were tomboys, but frequently even Feminine girly girls were chosen before him. By the time Leighton got to high school, he found himself either by himself or in the ever-widening friend zone with the girls. And still he would frustratingly try to ask a girl to go out with him. And when they said yes, Leighton was intimidated by their Femininity. No Girl had a problem taking out her lip gloss from her purse, opening her compact, and touching up her makeup...right in front of Leighton. Some of them would even solicit his opinion on a shade of new lipstick that they "just had to have." Others would ask him if he liked the new dress they had just purchased. Was the hem too short? Did their shoes match their dress? And on and on and on. One time a really pretty girl even asked him to hold her purse while she dragged him through a dress shop. It never stopped. And Leighton never said no. Never. When the "date" ended, if Leighton was lucky, he would get a sweet girly peck on his blushing cheek. Then one night, in a quiet restaurant, sitting by himself, Leighton saw the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Sitting at the small bar. By herself. Sipping on a coc-ktail. Long shiny black hair. Her stunning red silk minidress. Chatting and laughing with the bartender until she reached into her small black leather Gucci clutch and removed what Leighton knew had to be a tube of lipstick. As Leighton sat nearby, mesmerized, his breathing suddenly became more labored and his heartbeat more rapid. He waited and he watched with great anticipation. And with even greater envy...

[petticoated]

Because this beautiful and very feminine woman had her back to Leighton, he felt a certain freedom to stare. He couldn't help himself. She was stunning! And he'd barely gotten a look at her face. He studied everything about her. Her red silk minidress. Her long shiny raven black hair. Her supreme confidence as she and the bartender seemed to be engrossed in a lively conversation while a single television was showing a soccer match. And ever so casually, with supreme confidence and exquisite Femininity, she removed the top from the tube of lipstick she had retrieved from her clutch, twirled the black cylinder until the red lipstick appeared, reapplied it as though it was second nature, pursed her lips, and returned the lipstick to her purse. No compact. No mirror needed. Supremely confident. Supremely Feminine. Immediately, she exchanged a high-five with the bartender as the home team scored a goal. Poor Leighton was squirming with excitement. And with envy. He would give anything to be around a woman like her. In any capacity. And then, quite suddenly, she checked her phone, laid it on the bar counter top with her clutch, got up from her barstool, felt the back of her skirt, and walked towards Leighton's table. Her black slingback heels must have been five inches high. And as they made that distinct sound on the hardwood floor of the cafe when a beautiful woman is walking purposefully in them, in her red silk minidress, this little effeminate pretty boy was in awe. In Her heels, this woman had to be almost six feet tall! Her red lipstick, freshly reapplied, matched her red toenails. Her makeup was flawless. Her demeanor was one hundred percent Feminine. As she made her way to the front of the restaurant purposefully, she passed Leighton and gave him a confident knowing smile while her right fingertips again quickly checked the slightly flared skirt of her dress, aka "Skirt Management 101" to a sissy. Leighton's forced fem and petticoating fantasies were running wild again. And this supremely Feminine and stunningly beautiful Woman was Leighton's newest main character...

[BabyJay]

Thank you Petticoated. Great continuation. Poor Leighton, trapped like a rabbit in the headlights, thinking of that lovely little girls blue dress and now this stunning new woman. Cannot wait to see what his reaction will be when she stops at his table to introduce herself. Look forward to next chapters.