PETTICOATED!

[petticoated]

The little man nervously scratched his full head of wet hair, holding the towel with one hand. That was his mistake. With a swiftness that came out of nowhere. Madame Chadwick delivered a "swoosh" as the switch breezed by, close to the poor man's other hand. He reached up to block it and lost his grip on the towel. An amused look from Madame, a swift move of her hand to snatch the towel from the poor boy, and it was over. His trembling hands modestly worked feverishly to hide his sissy indicator. "No more foolishness. No more stalling. Make your decision NOW or I'll make it for you, sissy," she ordered, a cruel smile across her face. He hesitated. THWACK!!!  In a desperate effort to contain his shouting, the poor boy let out a girlish squeal. "That hurt!" "Not really, my boy. If I wanted to hurt you, rest assured you'd be in tears. My patience is waning. Your sissy suit or a frilly frock? Decide. Now." He gulped. He swallowed hard. "Th...the...suit." "What did you choose, Master robbie?" "The suit." "And what kind of a suit is it, Master robbie?" "It's...it's...a...um...a sis...sissssyyyy suit." Madame glared. "It's a sissy suit, MADAME! Address me as Madame, Master robbie. Now tell me your choice. And you best get it right this time or I'll make your decision for you." Madame looked straight ahead at the sissy dresses in the corner of the bedroom. "It's a sissy suit...Madame." "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it? ~L~ynn had laid the velvet sissy shorts and Eton jacket out on the edge of the bed before she had left the room. The sheer satin and lace louse accompanied it. Moving to the lingerie chest in the room, Madame discovered a frillier, lacier pair of pantaloons. She handed them to him and scrutinized his every move as he slowly pulled them up. "Fix the ruffled lace frills of your pantaloons. Some of your lace was crushed laying in the drawer." Rob performed this humiliating task under Madame's watchful eyes. "And now pick up your blouse. Hand it to me." After examining the sheer blouse, Madame handed it back to her charge, instructing him to hold it for her. Returning to another drawer of the lingerie chest, Madame removed a very lacy white satin camisole with ribbon straps. She held it up in front of the poor little man's chest, nodded her approval, and slid the lacy confection over his head. "You need more lace with your sissy suit. If you INSIST on wearing pants, then I insist that your little sissy suit be feminized. The sheer blouse came next. After buttoning the many pearl buttons and securing the sissy into the feminine blouse, the poor man looked down at the lacy camisole proudly displaying itself. Now the women, ~L~ynn especially, would see him in a far more sissified look. He shook his head negatively, wondering how it had come to this. Madame ignored him. "Step into your little sissy shorts. We're wasting time." He never resisted. As she squeezed the boy into the childishly short velvet pants, she ran her hands along the pretty pearl buttons adorning each side. Then she fastened him in. Finally, the little jacket was fitted on him and they were down to his socks and shoes. But this time, Madame went to a far closet and returned with an adorable pair of white patent leather Mary Janes...with 2-inch heels. Each shoe had a pretty pale blue matching satin bow over the strap.  After sheer white knee-highs were rolled up his legs, the sissy was put in heels...for the first time. "Sit down and let me dry your hair." She pointed to the vanity and the satin cushioned settee where all of ~L~ynn's makeup was carefully laid out. How he hoped he would be spared the humiliation of makeup. How would he face ~L~ynn? How would he face ALL of those beautiful women? In a few minutes his hair was dried, and then Madame applied a thick styling gel to it, slicking his hair down and combing it back. Now it looked like he had even less hair. And why did she slick it back and gel it down, he wondered. He looked back at his reflection. The lacy camisole caught his attention first. Never before had he ever felt so embarrassed. So helpless. And then, just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, Madame took ~L~ynn's blusher, opened it, swirled the large brush in the pink powder, gently tapped off any excess, and deftly applied it to each of his cheeks. His sissy indicator strained against the tight confines of his velvet sissy pants. ""Get up. Let me take a look at you." Standing over him, Madame fixed the lace collar of his feminine blouse, and then ordered rob to pull down the frilly lace of his pantaloons. "Must not hide our lace, sissy boy. Lace is worn by sissies to be seen." He struggled to adjust the ruffled lace frills until, finally, Madame gave her approval. "The ladies are waiting. I will expect you to apologize for your tardiness and disrespect upon entering the room. Furthermore, I expect you to bow before the ladies. Speak ONLY when spoken to. Sissies are to be seen and not heard. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"  "Yes." Madame Chadwick rolled her eyes, her face darkened with anger. THWACK!!! The poor sissy jumped back. "Ouch!! That hurt!" "No, it didn't, my little one. Have you forgotten already about how I am to be addressed?" "I...I...I'm sorry, Madame." "One more slip like that and you'll be in PETTICOATS. Do I make myself clear?" "Yes, Madame." Very well. We shall see, my little sissy boy. It's tea time..."

[petticoated]

Click, click, click went the sound of Madame's stilettoes. And click, click, click announced the arrival of sissy rob, his Mary Jane's against the hardwood floors of the hallway approaching the study where the women were assembled for morning tea. As Madame Chadwick and rob arrived at the door to the study, the reluctant sissy pulled back. "I'm not going in there...dressed like this! I look ridiculous! I'm going back to my room, change clothes, take a run, and watch golf the rest of the day." Madame Chadwick smiled an amused smile to herself, delighting in this token display of resistance by he rlittle sissy. She had seen it many times before. And it always amused her. Leaning down, and tightening her grip on the poor sissy's chin, she looked deep into his eyes, stating matter-of-factly, "This isn't some little game. This is real. I've warned you and I shall not warn you again." "Ouch! You're hurting me!" "Impeccable sissy behavior. Do I make myslef clear, Master robbie?" Madame raised her eyebrows, smiled mockingly at her little charge, and elicited a quick response. "Yes, Madame." "Now, bow! Bow before me."   The poor little man followed her orders and dropped an obedient bow before Madame. And then Madame opened the doors to the study and announced the arrival of ~L~ynn's little boytoy. "Ladies, Master robbie has decided to join us after all." Madame smiled triumphantly as the poor boy entered the study. At once, Rob saw the study was surrounded in frilly little sissy dresses. Racks of dresses were everywhere, and they completely encircled the room. And the dainty confections were definitely larger than the little dresses he had seen the previous visit. He KNEW who they were sized to fit. He knew it. And as Madame ordered rob to the center of the study, all eyes were fixed on him. Looking pleadingly at the beautiful ~L~ynn to somehow rescue him from his dilemma, she simply smiled with the other women. "Young man, I believe you have something to say to the ladies," Madame instructed. He hesitated for a split second. "I warned you, sissy boy, about any hesitation whatsoever in following my every order." "I...I...I'm sorry for not wanting to attend your tea party this morning, ladies. I...I...I..meant no dis...disrespect" he bowed as he completed his apology. Angie and Dr. Jennifer Haynes smiled in awe of his little performance. "And do you have something to say to Miss ~L~ynn, young man?" Rob had never had to refer to any girlfriend as "Miss" before. But as Madame Chadwick stood very near him, switch in her hand, he knew better. "Miss ~L~ynn, I apologize to you for not coming to tea on time. An astonished ~L~ynn responded coldly, "I cannot believe you embarrassed me this morning, robbie. And after you promised me you would escort me. I'm so disappointed." The empathy he had hoped for from ~L~ynn had just evaporated with those words. Madame interjected, "Miss ~L~ynn, Master robbie pleaded with me this morning to serve tea to all of you. A sort of peace offeriong, if you wish." Turning to rob, Madame asked, "Isn't that right Master robbie? Did you not beg me to allow you the pleasure of serving the ladies their tea this morning?"  "Y...y...yes, Madame Chadwick," the sissy responded obediently, followed by a bow. "Perhaps YOU should ask the ladies, robbie," Madame instructed. "You may proceed. You have my permission." "Thank you,  Madame," the sissy bowed. "Ladies, may I have the honour of serving you tea this morning, please?" he asked, remembering to bow again. He was being very careful not to make a single mistake. The ominous warning from Madame, plus the sight of the frilly sissy dresses, compelled him to concentrate. ~L~ynn spoke for the ladies. "Oh Honey, that would be wonderful. Have you ever served tea before?" "N...n...noooo," he stammered. "No?!?  No, MISS ~L~YNN!!!" Madame corrected the simpering sissy. "Insolence! Disrespect! How dare you!" Rob gulped. He felt his face redden even more. "Did I not specifically warn you about any hint of disrespect to the ladies this morning? You have embarrassed me in front of these women. How dare you!" The poor sissy looked frantically around the room. "I...I...I'm sorry, Madame. I really am sorry. I..I just forgot. I meant no disrespect." "Mark my words, sisseeeee...! I will not forget what you have just done..."

[petticoated]

Now rob could feel his face on fire. This woman was serious! This was nothing like the titillating little stories he had read before on the internet. This was real! And finally, the humiliation, especially in front of ALL beautiful women, was very, very real. He also felt the continuing sting on his backside from Madame's switch. His face was hot with embarrassment. Now ~L~ynn was seeing the "real" rob. He was being exposed in a way he never really imagined would ever happen. And while he had role-played this scenario a thousand times in his mind, it had alweays stopped there...a simple fantasy. But not now. "Master robbie!" Madame spoke firmly, interrupting his humiliating thoughts at the beginning of his own self-degredation. "Yes, Madame," the pitiful sissy quietly replied. "Follow me while we prepare tea for the ladies." He looked desperately to his beautiful blonde girlfriend for help. She smiled, warmly, saying, "Save yourself, robbie. Prove you're a man. Defy Madame Chadwick...if you dare. I cannot save you now." She toyed with the lacy hem of her white satin chemise as her gown lay open. She raised her eyebrows as if to ask, "Well, are you man enough to stop this before it goes any  farther?"  The women all stared at the poor man. Madame Chadwick glared at him. "I will not ask you again, young man." He looked back at ~L~ynn, pleadingly. And then, he looked at Madame. And bowing in front of her, he acquiesced. "Yes, Madame." Madame gave a triumphant look to the ladies, and then unceremoniously ushered the man from the room. Next to the study was a small area where Dr. Jennifer Haynes had assembled her tea cups, saucers, a dainty little teacart, and a very pretty porcelain teapot. And hanging ominosly in a small corner armoire were the aprons that Nancy had crafted at the behest of Madame. All of the frilly aprons were heavily embellished in fine white lace. Some were of silk while others were of fine satin. Of course, rob knew what was in store for him. Madame immediately reached for a white satin apron, heavily trimmed in delicate white French lace. As she removed the frilly apron from its matching satin hanger, she remarked, "This should sissify your appearance for the ladies. The very thought of you in those ridiculous boy clothes is repulsive to me. Feel the dainty lace of your pretty little apron, my little sissy man." The stern woman placed the poor man's hand squarely on the lavish lace trim of the frilly apron, commenting, "Lace becomes you, my frilly little girly boy." Then she ordered rob to stand still, tying a large satin bow in the back. As she fussed to make the bow as full as possible, she warned the poor boy, "Frilly dainty dresses are all around you. And I'm just waiting for the slightest error by your little sissy self to put you into one of them. Be careful my femmy little friend." After all the sugars, lemon, cream, and tea cups were assembled prettily on the teacart, Madame took the pot of boiling tea and placed it in the center of the teacart. You will stand before each of the ladies, curtsey, and ask them how they prefer their tea. After you have prepared it for them, you will offer it to them. And then you will step back and curtsey again. Is that understood?" The poor boy gulped. "C-c-curtsey, Madame? I thought I was to bow." "Nonsense! You are wearing a very feminine dainty and frilly lace apron. It is fitting that you would curtsey wearing  such an obviously feminine and dainty garment. It is far more respectful, feminine, and subservient. Do I make myself clear, sissy?" "Y-yesss, Madame," he glumly replied. "I presume you are familiar with the curtsey?" "Rob froze. He had seen it on the internet many many times in those titillating little stories he had read over and over. But he couldn't admit it. "N-n-no, Madame." "Madame Chadwick raised her eyebrows. "I expect the truth, sissy boy." She displayed her switch. "Okay, Madame. Well, maybe a little familiar with it." "That's better. Show me." After several attempts to curtsey appropriately for the towering woman, she reminded the simpering sissy that the lacy hem of his frilly apron should be daintily held out about his waist. The curtsey should be deep. "Especiallly deep, and pronounced, from a sissy," she emphasized. "I expect exaggerated ultrafeminine mannerisms whenever you are in the presence of ladies and girls. Understood?" "Yes, Madame, Chadwick."...

[petticoated]

Rob flashed back to the nights, months, and yes, even years that he had recklessly searched the internet for titillating stories of poor, weak, little men forcibly feminized by beautiful dominating women. But they were only fantasies. Harmless. Exciting. An instant gratification from which he could leave behind...on his own terms. But this was different. This was all too real. Almost surreal. And never did he believe that REAL women like Madame Chadwick really existed. Only in his mind. Only on the internet. "Stop daydreaming, sissy!" Madame snapped. "Fix your lace apron," she commanded, pointing to a slight wrinkle in the deep white French lace. Rob nervously plucked at the lacy trim until it had met Madame Chadwick's satisfaction. "Let me repeat myself, sissy. I expect impeccably feminine behavior. It's time to stop pretending. You're a sissy. And you know you are." And then she took her right hand, squeezed the little man's chin, and glared at him coldly in his eyes, "And now I'm going to crush your little b*&^%, and punish you severely at the slightest deviation from my expectations. Do I make myself clear, sissy boy?" Madame stared coldly, deeply into rob's frightened eyes. Rob froze. He wanted to argue with her. Put her in her place. But Madame only squeezed harder. She wasn't relenting. "Y...y...yessss, Madame," he finally replied. He would do anything to win her release from the grip she had on his chin. "I thought so. Now, curtsey for me, sissy." Again rob froze. For a moment he decided to refuse Madame's order. "I shall not ask you again." Madame said. Trembling fingers at his side, rob took the satin and lace apron, spread it out, and dropped his right leg, head bowed down. "Again," Madame ordered. Rob complied. Madame used her switch to point at the poor man's right leg, "Lower, sissy. The lower your curtsey, the more submissive you are." Rob's leg was hurting from staying in that position. Madame took her time, walking around the poor man, touching his right leg with the switch and ordering him to lower his curtsey even more. Finally, she allowed him to regain his balance, ordering him again to fix the lace on his frilly apron.   As he slowly pushed the teacart, the clicking of his heels was noticeable on the oak floors, and he realized it was the first time he had ever worn heels.  And now the real test would be to serve boiling hot tea, in a cup and on a saucer, to each of these beautiful women, executing a flawless curtsey every time. He was ordered to begin with ~L~ynn. Mincing daintily with the teacart. He dropped a deep curtsey in front of his beautiful blonde girlfriend, sitting in her white satin and lace chemise. She fingered the lacy hem of her chemise, an obvious effort to distract the hapless sissy. And, or course, rob took the bait. For a moment, and only a moment, his eyes quickly moved to the direction of her painted fingernails, playfully fingering her lavish white lace. She smiled at him. And then Madame, not missing a thing, remarked matter-of-factly, "It's obvious he's a sissy. He's infatuated with your dainty lace, Ms. ~L~ynn," Madame smiled. "I suspect he is a sissy with a fetish for frilly lace." "Oh, how sweet!" laughed Angie. "Would you like to touch my lace, robbie," ~L~ynn asked the hapless little man. Rob's face reddened. He gulped. He tried desperately to pour the hot tea without spilling it. "Answer Ms. ~L~ynn this instant, sissy!" Madame  ordered. Rob froze. "You ungrateful little man! How dare you embarrass me in front of the ladies. And how dare you disrespect your 'girlfriend'..."

[petticoated]

Was this really happening to him? Suddenly those internet fantasies seemed too real now. The beautiful women in the private room. The embarrassing sissy suit he was wearing. The teacart. Madame Chadwick. And...those dresses. Those frilly satin dresses. They were everywhere around him. Strategically placed on the display racks and perilously close to him. How much time had passed since Madame's chastisement. A few seconds? A minute? The room was silent. All eyes were on Rob. He had been reprimanded and called a sissy.  Like sand in an hourglass, the seconds were ticking away. He momentarily thought of standing up to these women. Why not just walk out of the room, he thought to himself. "I shan't warn you again, my boy!" Madame's stern voice interrupted his thoughts. "I'll waste not one more second in disciplining you in front of the ladies." Then she pointed her switch at the poor man and motioned for him to move the teacart towards his beautiful blonde girlfriend. Meanwhile, ~L~ynn playfully fingered the lacy hem of her white satin chemise. She looked at the poor little man and smiled deeply into the soul of his eyes. He looked pleadingly for her help to save him from further embarrassment. "'Cream and sugar, Honey, please," she responded. As Rob felt the frozen stare of Madame scrutinizing his every movement for optimum femininity, he meekly...demurely...acquiesced. No resistance. No rebellion. Nothing. Instead, daintily taking the lacy hem of his frilly satin apron, he gave his best attempt at a long deliberate curtsey. After holding it for several seconds, he dutifully replied, "Yes, Miss ~L~ynn." Madame continued her cold stare. The other women smiled in amazement. The poor little man then managed to pour the hot tea into the teacup and add a small amount of sugar and cream. Handing the saucer slowly to his girlfriend, she managed to take it from him without spilling any of the contents. The little man curtseyed again. He was then obliged to push the teacart before every woman and repeat the gestures until, finally, he presented himself to Madame Chadwick.  "Not bad for your first time, master robbie. However, you have much to learn. Until your gestures become far more feminine and dainty, I shall be keeping a very close eye on you. Now...please return the teacart to the corner of the room and then present yourself back to me. And be quick about it." In her heels, Madame even towered over the little man. And with the switch at her side, she would brook no resistance from a simpering sissy like rob. So, again, the little man obeyed. He curtseyed, answered "Yes, madame," and was quick to roll the teacart to a corner of the study. Upon returning, to stand in front of Madame Chadwick, she ordered him to take a seat in the narrow straight-back chair in the middle of the room, located between the semicircle of beautiful women and...those frilly little satin party dresses. And then, almost immediately after taking his seat, Madame reprimanded the poor little man. "Master robbie! Kindly take your fet again, and lower yourself slowly into your chair, spreading the skirt of your pretty apron and fluffing it out appropriatly, especially the pretty lace trim. And then I expect you to cross your legs and adjust your apron skirts again. You may proceed." Rob swallowed hard. He hesitated, just to test the resolve of Madame. He even thought for a moment of disobeying her. But not for long. He felt her stare. He saw her switch. And then he slowly rose from his chair, fluffed the skirts of his satin apron, and deftly lowered himself back into the chair, spreading the lacy skirt of the satin apron over his exposed little legs. "Master robbie, the ladies were just about to engage in the most delightful chat of a most appropriate subject before you rudely arrived late for our tea. The topic we chose was behavior modification of males. Especially rude young men who disrespect women and girls. Now, Jennifer, here were we?" "Of course, Madame, we were just about to ask you about a particularly effective method of disciplining and retraining some of the more, how do I say it, recalcitrant ones." "Yes, my dear, I shall be very happy to share some of my thoughts on the subject." She took the dainty teacup from her saucer, sipped a small sip of her tea, returned the teacup to the saucer, and began. "For the past 40 years I have had absolutely no problem in crushing male arrogance. As a matter of fact, I enjoy it. Taming brash young males and breaking their resistance is my specialty. I have never failed..."

[petticoated]

Rob gulped. He desperately mustered the courage, and...then...he blurted out, albeit half-heartedly, "Yeah, well it's not going to work with me, you f*&^%$# b#$&*!" The women in the drawing room were stunned. Jennifer Haynes' mouth dropped open. So did ~L~ynn's. And Angie, pursing her lips first, smiled, crossed her legs slowly, and edged the little man on. "Oh my! Rob is not going to participate in our little chat. Hmmmm, ~L~ynn, maybe he does have the b*&^% to be a man. A real man. You think?" Angie followed with a girly laugh.  ~L~ynn refused to defend her boytoy, though, instead watching with eager anticipation how Madame Chadwick would respond to this unexpected outburst from rob. Madame coldly turned to the little man, now standing with his fists clinched, and smile icily. "I'll deal with you later." No emotion in her voice. Just a calm confidence. And then she returned to join the women, stating matter-of-factly, "I petticoat bad boys. Slowly. Meticulously. With calm resolve. In the end, I transform them into simpering, limp-wristed, ultrafeminine girly-boys. I believe the term is...'sissies.'" She looked at poor rob, still standing, fists now somewhat clinched, his legs moving nervously. Madame could see it in his eyes: The uncertainty; the insecurity; the dread of being unable to resist what she would do to him in a matter of minutes. Yes, Madame Chadwick would now allow this little pansy boy to squirm, to wonder when "it" would happen. But first things first. She would let everyone in the room know once and for all exactly what degree of humiliation this little wretched man deserved. "Sit down, master robbie!" Madame ordered. Rob stood in place. "Sit...down." He still refused. The women were on he edges of their seats. Sit down...sissy boy," she said, emphasizing the word "sissy." And still rob held his ground. And then, Madame waved the switch, pointed sqarely at the little man's nose, and said, "Now that you've demonstrated to the ladies your blatant disrespect for all of us, I shall deal with you in the same manner I had to use earlier. And then, suddenly, swiftly, Madame grabbed the little man by his right ear, hissing, "This is absolutely your final opportunity to sit in your little chair and join us. And be sure to curtsey and apologize BEFORE you ask for my permission to be seated. Do I make myself perfectly clear, my little sissy-to-be?" Tears were in the frightened boy's eyes as he desperately looked to ~L~ynn to save him. The beautiful blonde stared right through him. Madame tightened her grip. "Please...please... oh please stop, Madame. Please." "I'm waiting," she responded. "Madame Chadwick, I apologze for my actions. They...were...ouch!...disrespect...ful..." The tears were coming full flow now. "Very well. Now curtsey. Like a sissy. Go ahead, sissy, we're waiting." And so the poor defeated little man, his ear feeling the painful wrath of Madame, slowly took the lacy hems of the sides of his frilly satin apron, held them out daintily with his fingers, and dropped a deep, very deep, curtsey. He remained in deference until Madame ordered him to sit in his chair in the center of the room. "And be sure to smooth your dainty apron skirts before taking a seat, my frilly little boy." Dutifully, it was done. "Cross your legs, sissy." He meekly complied. "Ah! Now! Where were we, ladies? Oh yes, petticoating. I do so love what I do! Disobedient boys become quite docile and submissive after I have disciplined them. Once I have put a bad boy in a frilly party dress and petticoats he realizes that extreme sissification and feminization await him. It's really quite useless to resist. The more he resists the more sissified and feminized he will become. Allow me to show you..."

[petticoated]

And then Madame smiled slightly, turned to face her little male charge sitting obediently in his chair, hands folded in the satin and lace apron he was wearing, and ordered him to stand. Rob froze. The eyes of every woman in the study were directed at him. He gulped. He felt the fire return to his face. He resolved, in front of these beautiful women, to take a stand against Madame. He would refuse to obey her. He would stay in his chair. "I shall not ask you again, master robbie. Kindly extricate yourself from your little chair and face me." Rob felt a surge of male pride as he defied the strong-willed woman. "Very well, my little sissy man, the longer you defy me the more intense your humiliation will be when you finally submit to feminization." Now Madame had invoked the "feminization"word, directly at him. "And you will submit. Your fetish for petticoats, frilly little dresses, lace, and makeup make you a very easy candidate, actually. It's rather humorous how you've managed to present yourself for so long as, how shall I say it, ah yes, 'normal.' Your talk of golf, football and such have hidden your weakness for all things dainty and feminine. You've tried desperately to resist this moment, haven't you, my little man. A brave sissy-in-hiding. But you've also been a bad little boy, haven't you? Disrespecting your beautiful girlfriend. Disobeying me. You are building quite a resume for yourself, my little man." Rob continued to sit, feigning disinterest. Madame walked towards him, waving her swtch menacingly. "Enough of this nonsense. She then pointed her switch to the vast collection of dainty little party dresses that surrounded the room. Then she challenged him. "Go ahead, my little man, leave the room. Your last chance to 'escape,' the word escape  dripping with feminine sarcasm. He froze. He wanted to leave...but, of course...Instead, "Please, Madame," he whimpered. "Please..." Madame nodded her triumphant approval to the ladies, smiled, and then replied, "Please? Please, little robbie? Whatever do you mean?" The little man gulped. He knew it was over. "Please...Madame Chadwick...please don't do this to me...please. I'll obey you. I promise. Only...please...don't............." "Yes? Yes, my little sissy? Continue..." "Madame, please don't make me...wear a...uh...uh...a..." Madame raised her eyes, urging the poor man to continue, Yes....?" "Puhleeeeeze....don't make me wear a...a...a...dr...dr...dressssss." Reality set in. Tears, yes tears, he couldn't believe it, were escaping from his eyes. His face was on fire with embarrasment. The ladies in the room, all of them, were smiling, engrossed in what was taking place. Ignoring the poor man as if he wasn't even in the room, Madame calmly explained to the ladies, "This is normal. Most males display some token resistance just before they are petticoated and frocked. Master robbie is no different. Of course, he knows the futility of it all. I do enjoy it though. The begging. The pleading. The crying. It is rather humorous, witnessing their final moments in trousers, albeit sissy shorts." Then, standing directly over the sobbing little man, she ordered him to stand.  And this time, rob rose from his chair. And quickly, Madame removed the frilly satin apron from the poor boy's waist, telling the women to look at the direction in which she was pointing her switch, "Ah! Just as I figured," exclaimed Madame. "Master robbie's sissy indicator is betraying his deperate plea to hold on to his masculinity." Madame was right. The noticeable bulge fighting frantically to break out of the tight confines of his sissy shorts had indeed "betrayed" him. The wide-eyed ladies grinned their approval. "Sit down, my little man, in your little chair while I remove your shoes and socks. You need to be petticoated..."