PETTICOATED!

[petticoated]

The little man's eyes darted around the room, hoping to find even one sympathetic spectator. Instead he found the women greedily watching his every move..and Madame's every order. ~L~ynn fingered the lacy hem of her white satin slip, teasing her little boytoy with tantalizing glimpses of her own lace. Her mesmerizing femininity, and a slight nod of her head directing him to comply with Madame, were now really all that were needed. Slowly the little man slumped back down into his little chair and waited for Madame to remove his shoes and frilly anklets. Madame glared between robbie's legs, ordering him, "Spread your legs, my little man. I shall not ask you again. Spread them!" The meek little man acquiesced, and when he did, Madame was quick to notice the large bulge desperately trying to free itself from the tight confines of the sissy shorts. "Keep your legs spread, sissy!" Madame stood up, took her switch, and pointed to the area in which the man's sissy indicator was eagerly responding, as Madame characterized it, "accordingly. You see, ladies, the sissy is torn...torn between exquisite excitement and intense humiliation and embarrassment. He is in, how shall I say it, yes, ...the perfect storm. He knows he is to be petticoated in minutes, and that all of these adorable little dainty frilly sissy dresses are for him. He knows that no matter how hard he tries to deny...resist...beg...plead...whatever, he WILL be wearing dresses, dainty sissy dresses, until I say otherwise." Then Madame pointed to the area between his legs again. "Oh my, look at his little sissy indicator now. How he strains to be let out of his nasty boy trousers and imprisoned in taffeta and lace petticoats." Looking disdainfully at the little man, she ordered him to stand up again. "Allow me, ladies, to humor you if I may." The defeated little man got up from his chair and was ordered to stand next to two stainless steel dress racks displaying some of the frilliest, laciest, sissiest little party dressses imaginable. Pale pink and white were the only two colors. They were all of stiff gleaming satin. Some had immense clouds of tulle underskirts while others had stiff rustling organdy petticoats. But all of them were deeply frilled with exquisite lace and sissy bows. Madame continued her assault, "I believe that sissies should be kept in only the frilliest and sissiest of dresses. Short satin dresses which rustle at even the slightest movement. The swishing skirts serve as a constant reminderr to the sissy that extreme feminization and intense petticoating represent his new life. His dresses will be short, midthigh, in order for his lacy petticoats to permanently be exposed. This little sissy will experience deep humiliation as the last remnants of his boyhood become a distant memory..."

[petticoated]

And Now Madame closed in on her prey. As she moved towards him, the little man moved back, or attempted to move back, but he backed into a rack of rustling satin and lace. Fear was in his eyes. He realized now that there would be no escape. The women in the room were laughing now. He cowered as Madame approached. He was trapped by the frilly sissy dresses on every side. Surrounded by satin and lace. "My, my, my little sissy man. Will you be a brave little girly-boy for Madame and put on your first frilly little party dress for me? Hmmmm...? After all, you ARE a sissy, now aren't you? Hmmmmm...? And you're a very special little sissy. A sissy with a weakness for petticoats.  And frilly little satin party dresses. And makeup. And dainty ruffled sissy panties." Rob's breathing got heavy. He gulped. "No...no...Madame....please! Please don't petticoat me! I really am a man. I really am! Please don't!" Laughing gaily, Madame countered, "Now, now, my little pantywaist. The sooner I get you into your first frilly little party dress and petticoats the sooner I can begin my program to permanently sissify and petticoat you. The only thing left for us to decide is which dainty little frock you will be wearing for your initiation. Now...hand me your sissy shorts..NOW!" She snapped the switch in front of the cowering little man. "And you best be quick about it!" Rob gulped again, looked desperately about the room for any one of the women to come to his aid, saw none, and then slowly...unbuttoned the velvet sissy shorts until...finally...they slid down his legs and to the floor. "Hand them to me, sissy, folded!" Madame held out her right hand. The pitiful little man handed them over...folded. "You won't be needing these any more," she said, disdainfully taking them from the little man and tossing them on the sofa. Standing in his frilly bloomers, the little man felt his sissy indicator spring fully to life. The satin confines of the bloomers only exacerbated his sissy indicator's excited state. The little man's silk blouse came next and now he stood in front of the women in his lacy camisole and ruffled lace bloomers. Madame proclaimed, "Now that you have been relieved of those nasty boy shorts and your sissy blouse, you are to be frocked and petticoated. Ladies," Madame addressed her cadre of female friends, "Watch his sissy indicator the next few minutes as I describe to all of you exactly how I plan to  permanently sissify and feminize our little sissy man here..."

[petticoated]

Mdame turned to Nancy, ~L~ynn's dressmaker extraordinaire, commending her on the exquisite collection of dainty dresses she had so skillfully designed and crafted for this very moment. "My dear Nancy, you have done wonderful work in creating such frilly and girly frocks for our young man here. Midthigh length party frocks will allow for us a generous view of the sissy's petticoats, thus assuring everyone of his sissy and petticoated status. When he is allowed to sit in his short little party frock, his lacy petticoat hems will be impossible to hide. And because young master robbie here has a special penchant for stiff rustling petticoats and their undeniable ultrafeminine effect on him, his feminization will be impossible for him to resist. The combination of short frilly party dresses and stiff lacy petticoats will enable me to quickly subdue and eradicate any hint of masculinity he might fight to retain. My dear," she asked Nancy, "May we see the collection of petticoats he will be wearing beneath his frilly little dresses, please?" "Why of course, Madame Chadwick," Nancy enthusiastically responded. "And do you have the frilly rhumba-style sissy panties for us to choose for him, too, my dear?" "Madame Chadwick, they were designed specifically according to your wishes." "The emphasis was on lace, my dear?" Madame Chadwick asked. "Yes, Madame!" responded Nancy enthusiastically again.   Poor rob's sissy indicator continued to grow more excited. And Madame didn't miss this opportunity to bring it to the attention of these beautiful women. Pointing her switch to the area of rob's sissy indicator, Madame explained matter-of-factly,  " I always find it particularly amusing how just before a new sissy boy is frocked and petticoated, his sissy indicator becomes very excited, anticipating the moment. And yet, the sissy himself has a myriad of emotions, often fraught with contradictions. It is a time when the tears flow freely...and it is the time that I most relish..."

[petticoated]

Madame stared icily at her sulking little man. The man who had used his golf, his ability to converse about all things masculine, who had used his money and influence to insulate himself from his frilly little fantasies...until now. And just as Madame Chadwick had so accurately predicted, the tears were flowing. Poor little rob was confronting reality. Or...it was confronting him. There was no escape. Of course, he already knew that. "Ladies, once a sissy is frocked and petticoated, he believes that his indoctrination will be, like his silly fantasies, only temporary. Let me be perfectly clear regarding my philosophy on petticoating. It is permanent. My sissies are NEVER allowed to wear trousers ever again. The very thought of it is repulsive to me. The more intense the petticoating, the more frequent the humiliation of a sissy, the more docile and dainty he will become. His masculinity quickly becomes subjected to the swish of rustling satin and the sight of frilly lace. And because master robbie has an intense fetish for stiff petticoats and frilly little party dresses, well..." And then she pointed, yet again, to his frenzied sissy indicator, stating, "It's obvious he needs to be petticoated. It's also obvious that his excited sissy indicator may no longer be concealed beneath his lacy bloomers. Young man, it's time we put you into your first frilly little party frock. At least the layers of rustling petticoats and your satin party dress can hide your sissy indicator from making such an immodest display of itself. But first, we need to get you into panties fit for only the sissiest of sissies." And then the tears welled up in poor rob's eyes. It was these beautiful women, so many of them, and his beautiful girlffiend, ~L~ynn, all delighting in his final and ultimate emasculation. Madame Chadwick moved quickly to one of several large armoires in the corner of Dr. Haynes' study. She opened a drawer and began meticulously searching amongst an abundance of lacy confections. And then finally she removed what can only be described as a delicately crafted pair of the laciest sissy panties even rob had ever seen. As a matter of fact, ALL he could see was LACE. Ruffled dainty white lace. As Madame retrieved them from the drawer she held them up for everyone's inspection. Two pink satin bows adorned each side on the front, nestled just above the sea of ruffled white lace.  Madame proudly held the satin sissy panties directly in front of the ladies, ignoring her little boytoy. "Excellent, Nancy! The lace is exquisite! And the sissy panties are lined with this beautiful white bridal satin, too. All sissies just adore satin lined panties. Their sissy indicators precictably respond quite favorably to the cool girly satin. And the abundance of lace should help to hide the frenzied sissy indicator's love of it's impending feminization." Turning to poor rob, Madame smiled coldly, stating, "These are the panties you will be wearing underneath your first party dress and petticoats for the ladies. Does it excite you my little man?" All he could do was gulp. But his sissy indicator was doing much more.  Standing now directly in front of her little man, she put the sissy panties in his trembling hands. "Feel your lace, my little sissy boy. Go ahead. Feel it. You know you want to. After all, you're a special little sissy. You're a lace-loving sissy. You adore seeing women in lacy slips, lacy bras, slipdresses...anything lacy. It turns you on. You can't help it. You wished it didn't because then, perhaps, you wouldn't be a little sissy boy. But, alas, you are a little sissy boy. Aren't you?"... She didn't wait for his answer. "Do you approve of your dainty sissy panties, master robbie? Are they lacy enough for you? And don't you just adore the little pink satin bows, between the rows of ruffled lace? They're going to look so pretty beneath your petticoats." No answer from rob. Not a word. But there were more tears. "Hand me your bloomers, young man. It's time we got you into something far more dainty. And be quick about it!" He gulped again. "Puhleeeze, Mistress, please don't make me wear these. Please don't..." Now it was comical. Angie laughed out loud. Dr. Jennifer Haynes joined her in her moment of merriment. Even ~L~ynn looked directly at her little man, played with the lacy hem of her white satin chemise, and taunted him to "Stand up to Madame, Honey. Go ahead. Prove you're a man. Tell her you won't obey her. Demand that she give you your pants back. If not, well, you're soon going to find yourself in petticoats and one of those little girly satin party dresses." Rob said nothing. He was too busy staring at ~L~ynn's beautiful lacy lingerie. Madame coldly responded to ~L~ynn's playful taunting, "Young man, you were very disrespectful to your girlfriend . You've been a bad boy. And bad boys get petticoated. Now...if you can show your last ounce of manhood to us now by stopping this foolishness, I will let you put on your sissy panties over there." Madame pointed to a corner of the room, between three racks of frilly party frocks. "That's right, between one of your new dresses you will be wearing for the ladies." "Your dresses," rob heard this powerful, stern woman call them for the first time. "I do not expect you take all day to do this simple task. You are to put on your sissy panties for me this instant! I shall not tell you again, young man!" The women stared. They were smiling. Rob looked at them. He wanted to resist. But like every other time he had been faced with the challenge, he could not. "I have no problem pulling down your knickers in front of the ladies and putting your sissy pants on in front of them. Your last chance." "Yes, Madame," whispered rob. "Did you forget your curtsey, sissy?" Rob meekly curtsied. "Do it again, sissy." He did. He held the curtsey longer this time. "You have thirty seconds to put these on." The little man was dismissed with a wave of Madame's hand. He scampered over to the corner of the study and slid between the rustling sissy party dresses. Poor rob was so close to the frilly dresses. And they WERE frilly! Lace, satin, tulle, pale pink, white. And sooooooo short! So very girlishly, sissy...short! "Fifteen seconds, young man!" Madame reminded him.  Poor rob. The frilly dresses had stolen his attention. And he was certain these women knew it. Dropping his bloomers to the floor, he quickly slid the cool satin and lace sissy-style rhumba up his shaking legs. He saw nothing but lace! Row after row after row after row of ruffled white dainty lace. And the pink satin ribbons! "My god, he realized, i am a sissy..."

[petticoated]

The rows of frilly white lace were so expansive that even the lace ruffles swished as the poor little man re-emerged from the dainty sissy dresses. And his sissy indicator was in a frenzied state as it lay nestled between the cool satin caresses of the inner cool satin lining of the dainties. And when rob looked down at what he was now wearing, approaching these beautiful women, his face had never been redder...more on fire...than it was now. "Come over here and stand beside me, sissy boy," Madame ordered with her ice cold stare and her piercing eyes. The dainty lacy ruffles swished as he acquisced to her newest demand. ~L~ynn fingered the lacy hem of her white satin chemise as her boytoy moved beside Madame. "A decided improvement, ladies!" Madame triumphed. She took her switch and, using it as an effective pointer, directed the ladies' attention to the rows of rufled white lace which screamed "sissy" to everyone. Calmly explaining, Madame continued, "The sissy panties are totally embellished in rows of ruffled white lace. Lace is very important in the defining of a sissy boy, especially one with such an obvious lace fetish. Once he has been petticoated and I have him in dainty party dresses, this little sissy boy will wear only sissy panties as yet another constant reminder of his subjugated and petticoated status. Sissies like rob here who have a serious fetish for all things dainty and feminine are always easier to control and sissify once they have their sissy indicators buried deep below layers of satin and frilly lace. Besides, once he has been frocked, lingerie inspections will be frequent. And it simply wouldn't be appropriate for a sissy to have normal panties underneath his dainty dresses. I have no doubt that his sissy indicator has risen to new lengths." Then Madame pulled her switch away and directed rob to examine with hiw own little trembling fingers the intricate detail of the exquisite lace. "Sissy boy, touch your frilly lace. Go ahead...feel it..caress it...take your dainty little fingers and play with your frilly lace..." His face reddened even more. And now the beautiful ~L~ynn was looking at her own lacy hem, examining it with her long fingers, taunting her boyfriend, "Rob, don't do it. Stand up to Madame. Prove you're not a little sissy boy." The other women sat in the room transfixed, waiting to see if the little man would finally stand up to Madame. "Don't be silly, my dear ~L~ynn," retorted Madame Chadwick. "Just look at him. Standing proudly in his frilly lacy little satin sissy panties. He is powerless to resist  what I intend do to him. Once I have him in petticoats and a frilly little frock, you'll never believe what he will do for me. He knows there is no escape. He knows tonight is the night. He knows he's going to be petticoated. And he knows I won't take 'no' for an answer..."

[petticoated]

"I'm not doing this!" From nowhere the desperate little man shouted out defiantly. The room froze with silence. Nobody said a word, not even Madame. Rob stood with his fists clinched. He shouted again, "I'm not doing this. Give me back my pants...right now." Still none of the women said a word. How foolish he looked, standing in front of these beautiful women, stripped of all things masculine, and ordered into the frilliest, laciest pair of sissy rhumba panties imaginable. Then he directed his next shout to Mdame, "I demand that you give me back my pants right now! I'm leaving!" Still no one said anything. Rob looked around the large study for anyone...anyone to empathize with his plight. Then he looked at the beautiful ~L~ynn, stating to her that "I'm ready to go. This has gone far enough. Get my pants for me, Honey." "Oh sweetheart, I do not have your trousers. Madame has them. You'll have to get them from her." The beautiful ~L~ynn stroked her long blonde hair, pursed her lips, smiled warmly, and nodded at Madame. Then she slowly crossed her legs, adjusted her satin chemise, and fingered its wide white lace hem. As she continued to play with her own dainty lace, the poor man found himself momentarily mesmerized by this beautiful woman's overpowering femininity. It was as though She had zapped every bit of that momentary masculine resolve he thought he had recaptured. Madame Chadwick noticed, too, and quickly seized control of the moment, "Ladies, this is actually quite normal. A desperate resistance. Token for most sissy boys. Most my new charges do put up one last desperate attempt to resist feminization and petticoating. It's humorous, actually," she laughed. "A desperate little laddie frantically realizing that he is about to be frocked and petticoated. Deprived of his masculinity once and for all. The realization that he is to be sissified." Turning to rob, she cheerily remarked, "Yes, my little cherub, the sand in your hourglass has run out." Madame then walked over to another armoire. A large white French armoire. The women were on the edge of their seats. Rob heard the click of the key as the top cabinet doors were unlocked. And then, Madame swung the two doors open, swinging them to each side. And then...THE moment......There THEY were........Freeing themselves from the confines of the armoire......The poor little sissy man feasted his eyes at them.........Masses of white rustling swishing clouds exploded into full view. White clouds. Net. Taffeta. Silk. Organza. Tulle. And the lace. Ohhhhhhh the lace. Rob gulped. His face reddened. His sissy indicator sprang to even greater attention. How he had fantasized..... How he had dreamed...... How he had read the tantalizing stories. Of the poor lad unable to resist. Of the abject humiliation that undoubtedly would come next. And yes, even the undeniable...his excitement. "Enough of this nonsense, master rob. You need to be petticoated." Madame declared...

[petticoated]

Madame moved to another large French white armoire, swung the cabinet doors to each side, and there, again, like large voluminous clouds, were more petticoats. Their bouffant frilliness would serve their purpose well beneath the dainty satin party dresses surrounding the poor little man. And then Madame reached inside the cabinet, and as the rustling pettis swished loudly, located an especially poufy confection of stiff taffeta, net, and lavish white lace. Attached to a pale pink satin hanger, Madame separated it from the many other petticoats, removed it slowly from the armoire, turned to face her little boytoy, and shook the hissing multilayered confection in front of her audience. Rob gulped. His breathing intensified. His face was burning. And yet he could not keep his desperate sissy indicator from its predictable response. "Now, my little one, it is time." An evil smile crossed Madame Chadwick's determined face.  She shook the stiff rustling symbol of sissydom at the frightened man again. Rob begged and pleaded, "No, Madame...no...please...no...please don't do this...to...me...please." He looked at ~L~ynn, this beautiful blonde who had brought him here, and pleaded, "~L~ynn, let's go...I'm ready to leave...get my...clothes...please..." But his voice tailed as Madame severely reprimanded him, "Young man, you are being most disrespectful to Miss ~L~ynn!" "Oh, Madame, I...I...I..." Madame Chadwick closed in on rob. Why was he so frozen to the floor, at the very moment when he knew he needed to muster the courage to run...why, oh why...as he feasted his eyes on the stiff rustling lace petticoat Madame now dangled perilously close to him...The closer Madame got to rob, the wider his eyes got. Madame was unrelenting. She shook the petticoat again, only this time taking her long painted fingernails to fluff the multilayered skirts of the stiff lacy petticoat, eyeing her prey, "You're going to just love wearing petticoats, my little sissy boy. Madame will see to that.  And since you've been such an especially naughty little boy during your visit with the girls, you'll be wearing an especially frilly little dress for us. A dainty little satin frock so short your frilly little petticoats will be exposed for all to see..."