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Active Sissy Stories / Re: Mark, The Sugar Plum Fairy
« Last post by Norm43 on April 10, 2025, 09:04:34 PM »
Mark's Green Velvet Dress:
22
Active Sissy Stories / Mark, The Sugar Plum Fairy
« Last post by Norm43 on April 10, 2025, 08:52:15 PM »
"What's for dinner?"
"Your favorite, son."
The smell of roast beef filled the kitchen, a stark contrast to the tension in the air. Mark, a 15-year-old with a penchant for baggy jeans and oversized t-shirts, slumped into the chair across from his mother, Janet. Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes as she set the plates down on the table. Mark's grades had been slipping and his school reports were littered with warnings about his behavior. Janet had been mulling over a solution for weeks, something that would get through to him.
After a tense dinner, Janet cleared her throat. "Mark, I've been thinking about your school situation."
Mark's eyes darted up from his plate, the first bite of food frozen in midair. "What about it?"
"Well," she began, her voice measured and firm, "I've decided to pull you out of public school and start homeschooling you."
Mark's jaw dropped. "What? Why?"
"It's for the best," Janet replied, her voice laced with the finality that usually preluded a conversation that was over before it began. "Your Aunt Laura said you cousins are doing well with it, and I think it's time for a change."
The next day, Mark found himself staring down clothes that were definitely not from his side of the wardrobe. Opaque black tights and a dress lay neatly folded on his bed. His mother's voice, a mix of excitement and authority, floated in from the hallway.
"I always wanted a daughter, Mark. And since I can't change that, I've decided to start treating you like one," Janet said, her eyes gleaming with a determination that sent a shiver down Mark's spine.
Mark felt a knot tighten in his stomach as he stared at the garments. "Mom, no. This isn't right," he protested, his voice cracking.
"It's either this or boarding school," Janet said, her arms crossed firmly over her chest. "You've been acting out too much, and this is the perfect way for you to learn discipline and respect."
The first week of homeschooling was a blur of embarrassment and confusion. Mark's cousins, Rachel and Emily, giggled behind their hands as he stumbled through lessons in his new attire. Rachel, 13, had a smug look on her face, while Emily, only 10, seemed to feel sorry for him. He felt like a doll dressed in frills and lace, his identity being stripped away one layer at a time.
Rachel and Emily were required to wear modest clothing during their lessons, but were free to choose what they wanted to wear day to day.
The days grew longer and the stares from his cousins more unbearable. His dresses rustled with every step he took, a constant reminder of his predicament. Mark's resentment grew with each passing hour, his anger simmering just below the surface. The only reprieve was the time spent in the bathroom, where he could shed his humiliating outfit and breathe as a boy again.
One evening, Janet received a call from her sister, Aunt Laura. "Janet, Mark's outfits are causing quite a stir. The girls are complaining, and I think it would be best if we all stick to a schoolgirl uniform for the lessons."
"But Mark is already wearing a dress," Janet argued, trying to hide her annoyance.
"I know," Aunt Laura's voice remained calm but firm, "but they need to focus on their studies, not on Mark's...situation. We'll all follow the same dress code: jumper, black tights, flats, and a sweater. It's more appropriate and less distracting."
Mark felt a twinge of hope, but it was quickly squashed when Janet nodded in agreement. "Alright, Laura. If that's what you think is best." She turned to Mark, her expression unreadable. "Looks like we're going shopping tomorrow."
The next day at the mall, Janet marched them straight to the girls' section. Rachel's eyes widened in horror as she stared at the racks of plaid jumpers and plain sweaters. "You can't do this to me," Rachel whispered, her voice thick with disbelief. "Mark is the one that's been getting into trouble, Not me!" she agued. Emily was content with the situation, she didn't mind the plaid jumpers. She thought the uniforms were cute.
But Janet was unmoved. "It's for the best," she said again, her voice brooking no argument. "You're all going to be in the same environment now. It's only fair that you all dress the same."
The trip to the mall was a humiliating ordeal for Mark. Rachel shot him dirty looks as her Aunt Janet and Laura picked out their matching uniforms. Mark felt a hot flush of embarrassment creep up his neck as other shoppers cast curious glances their way. He tried to protest, to explain to his aunt and mother that he wasn't really a girl, but they just gave him a stern look and told him to keep his voice down. Rachel, on the other hand, was fuming. She glared at her mother and Mark, her cheeks red with anger.
As they left the store with their bags full of new clothes, Rachel stormed ahead, not bothering to hide her frustration. "This is so unfair," she huffed, throwing her bag into the car. "Why do I have to dress like this?"
"You know why," her Aunt Janet said calmly, as Mark bashfully climbed into the back seat. "We're a team, and we stick together."
Rachel rolled her eyes, but Mark couldn't help feeling a twinge of admiration for his mother and aunt's unyielding stance. It was clear they weren't going to back down anytime soon.
"Fine," Rachel grumbled, slamming her bag onto the kitchen counter when they got home. "If we're all going to be in matching outfits, then I guess we'll have to wear them all the time. Like, even to bed!"
"Well I don't think these jumpers would make very good pajamas, but I do think you're on to something young lady!" Aunt Janet told her niece. "I think it would be nice if you all had matching outfits and a shared experience! You are all sisters after all!" she said.
The next week, Mark, Rachel, and Emily found themselves dressed in the schoolgirl uniforms for their lessons. Rachel's glares had morphed into cold shoulder treatment, while Emily remained obliviously cheerful. Mark felt a strange sense of camaraderie with Rachel in their shared discomfort, though Rachel would never admit it.
One Friday evening, Janet and Laura had a heart-to-heart over the phone. Laura suggested, "Why don't we let Rachel pick the weekend outfits for all three of them? It might make her feel more included and less like she's being punished for Mark's behavior."
Janet pondered for a moment before agreeing. "Alright, but I trust you'll keep an eye on things. We don't want it to get out of hand."
The following Friday, Rachel strutted into the living room with a devilish glint in her eye, three garment bags draped over her arm. She tossed one to Mark and one to Emily. "Our weekend outfits," she said with a smirk.
Mark opened his bag and felt his cheeks burn. Inside was a velvet dress, a sickeningly sweet shade of green. "What is this?" he growled, his voice thick with humiliation.
Rachel smirked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "It's your weekend outfit, cousin. I picked out something extra special for us." She pulled out her own dress from the bag, a slightly less ostentatious shade of red and held it against herself. "It's all about unity, right?"
Mark's hands trembled as he held the green dress up to his chest. "This isn't fair," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Fair?" Rachel's eyes flashed. "You're the one who got us into this mess!" she hissed. "You think I wanted to wear a dress every day? But here we are, all dressed like dolls for you."
The weekend arrived with the promise of something worse than the school uniforms. Rachel had indeed picked something more embarrassing for Mark.
"You've got to be kidding," Mark whispered as Rachel held up a pair of opaque white tights. The material was unyielding girly, a stark contrast to the black tights they wore for home school.
"Nope," Rachel said, her voice filled with spite. "These are the rules now."
The weekend passed with Rachel reveling in her newfound power, while Mark felt more trapped than ever in his feminine attire. Each weekend, Rachel would select an outfit for them that was more humiliating than the last. It was clear that Rachel was enjoying her role as the fashion dictator, but Emily remained the silent observer, unsure of how to navigate the new dynamics.
"Your favorite, son."
The smell of roast beef filled the kitchen, a stark contrast to the tension in the air. Mark, a 15-year-old with a penchant for baggy jeans and oversized t-shirts, slumped into the chair across from his mother, Janet. Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes as she set the plates down on the table. Mark's grades had been slipping and his school reports were littered with warnings about his behavior. Janet had been mulling over a solution for weeks, something that would get through to him.
After a tense dinner, Janet cleared her throat. "Mark, I've been thinking about your school situation."
Mark's eyes darted up from his plate, the first bite of food frozen in midair. "What about it?"
"Well," she began, her voice measured and firm, "I've decided to pull you out of public school and start homeschooling you."
Mark's jaw dropped. "What? Why?"
"It's for the best," Janet replied, her voice laced with the finality that usually preluded a conversation that was over before it began. "Your Aunt Laura said you cousins are doing well with it, and I think it's time for a change."
The next day, Mark found himself staring down clothes that were definitely not from his side of the wardrobe. Opaque black tights and a dress lay neatly folded on his bed. His mother's voice, a mix of excitement and authority, floated in from the hallway.
"I always wanted a daughter, Mark. And since I can't change that, I've decided to start treating you like one," Janet said, her eyes gleaming with a determination that sent a shiver down Mark's spine.
Mark felt a knot tighten in his stomach as he stared at the garments. "Mom, no. This isn't right," he protested, his voice cracking.
"It's either this or boarding school," Janet said, her arms crossed firmly over her chest. "You've been acting out too much, and this is the perfect way for you to learn discipline and respect."
The first week of homeschooling was a blur of embarrassment and confusion. Mark's cousins, Rachel and Emily, giggled behind their hands as he stumbled through lessons in his new attire. Rachel, 13, had a smug look on her face, while Emily, only 10, seemed to feel sorry for him. He felt like a doll dressed in frills and lace, his identity being stripped away one layer at a time.
Rachel and Emily were required to wear modest clothing during their lessons, but were free to choose what they wanted to wear day to day.
The days grew longer and the stares from his cousins more unbearable. His dresses rustled with every step he took, a constant reminder of his predicament. Mark's resentment grew with each passing hour, his anger simmering just below the surface. The only reprieve was the time spent in the bathroom, where he could shed his humiliating outfit and breathe as a boy again.
One evening, Janet received a call from her sister, Aunt Laura. "Janet, Mark's outfits are causing quite a stir. The girls are complaining, and I think it would be best if we all stick to a schoolgirl uniform for the lessons."
"But Mark is already wearing a dress," Janet argued, trying to hide her annoyance.
"I know," Aunt Laura's voice remained calm but firm, "but they need to focus on their studies, not on Mark's...situation. We'll all follow the same dress code: jumper, black tights, flats, and a sweater. It's more appropriate and less distracting."
Mark felt a twinge of hope, but it was quickly squashed when Janet nodded in agreement. "Alright, Laura. If that's what you think is best." She turned to Mark, her expression unreadable. "Looks like we're going shopping tomorrow."
The next day at the mall, Janet marched them straight to the girls' section. Rachel's eyes widened in horror as she stared at the racks of plaid jumpers and plain sweaters. "You can't do this to me," Rachel whispered, her voice thick with disbelief. "Mark is the one that's been getting into trouble, Not me!" she agued. Emily was content with the situation, she didn't mind the plaid jumpers. She thought the uniforms were cute.
But Janet was unmoved. "It's for the best," she said again, her voice brooking no argument. "You're all going to be in the same environment now. It's only fair that you all dress the same."
The trip to the mall was a humiliating ordeal for Mark. Rachel shot him dirty looks as her Aunt Janet and Laura picked out their matching uniforms. Mark felt a hot flush of embarrassment creep up his neck as other shoppers cast curious glances their way. He tried to protest, to explain to his aunt and mother that he wasn't really a girl, but they just gave him a stern look and told him to keep his voice down. Rachel, on the other hand, was fuming. She glared at her mother and Mark, her cheeks red with anger.
As they left the store with their bags full of new clothes, Rachel stormed ahead, not bothering to hide her frustration. "This is so unfair," she huffed, throwing her bag into the car. "Why do I have to dress like this?"
"You know why," her Aunt Janet said calmly, as Mark bashfully climbed into the back seat. "We're a team, and we stick together."
Rachel rolled her eyes, but Mark couldn't help feeling a twinge of admiration for his mother and aunt's unyielding stance. It was clear they weren't going to back down anytime soon.
"Fine," Rachel grumbled, slamming her bag onto the kitchen counter when they got home. "If we're all going to be in matching outfits, then I guess we'll have to wear them all the time. Like, even to bed!"
"Well I don't think these jumpers would make very good pajamas, but I do think you're on to something young lady!" Aunt Janet told her niece. "I think it would be nice if you all had matching outfits and a shared experience! You are all sisters after all!" she said.
The next week, Mark, Rachel, and Emily found themselves dressed in the schoolgirl uniforms for their lessons. Rachel's glares had morphed into cold shoulder treatment, while Emily remained obliviously cheerful. Mark felt a strange sense of camaraderie with Rachel in their shared discomfort, though Rachel would never admit it.
One Friday evening, Janet and Laura had a heart-to-heart over the phone. Laura suggested, "Why don't we let Rachel pick the weekend outfits for all three of them? It might make her feel more included and less like she's being punished for Mark's behavior."
Janet pondered for a moment before agreeing. "Alright, but I trust you'll keep an eye on things. We don't want it to get out of hand."
The following Friday, Rachel strutted into the living room with a devilish glint in her eye, three garment bags draped over her arm. She tossed one to Mark and one to Emily. "Our weekend outfits," she said with a smirk.
Mark opened his bag and felt his cheeks burn. Inside was a velvet dress, a sickeningly sweet shade of green. "What is this?" he growled, his voice thick with humiliation.
Rachel smirked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "It's your weekend outfit, cousin. I picked out something extra special for us." She pulled out her own dress from the bag, a slightly less ostentatious shade of red and held it against herself. "It's all about unity, right?"
Mark's hands trembled as he held the green dress up to his chest. "This isn't fair," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Fair?" Rachel's eyes flashed. "You're the one who got us into this mess!" she hissed. "You think I wanted to wear a dress every day? But here we are, all dressed like dolls for you."
The weekend arrived with the promise of something worse than the school uniforms. Rachel had indeed picked something more embarrassing for Mark.
"You've got to be kidding," Mark whispered as Rachel held up a pair of opaque white tights. The material was unyielding girly, a stark contrast to the black tights they wore for home school.
"Nope," Rachel said, her voice filled with spite. "These are the rules now."
The weekend passed with Rachel reveling in her newfound power, while Mark felt more trapped than ever in his feminine attire. Each weekend, Rachel would select an outfit for them that was more humiliating than the last. It was clear that Rachel was enjoying her role as the fashion dictator, but Emily remained the silent observer, unsure of how to navigate the new dynamics.
23
Active Sissy Stories / Re: A Sissy is Born
« Last post by mikeh1993 on April 09, 2025, 05:15:28 PM »
Thanks for the Powder Puff update. I love this story and can’t wait for more
24
Active Sissy Stories / Re: A Sissy is Born
« Last post by Baby Mac on April 08, 2025, 05:56:11 PM »
Great to see you return with his humiliation please continue
25
Active Sissy Stories / Re: A Sissy is Born
« Last post by Princess PowderPuff on April 08, 2025, 12:10:08 PM »
18 B. TEA TIME FOR TODDLERS continued
Daisy whimpered from behind her pacifier before bursting into tears again. He had never cried like this since he was at elementary school. It was hardly surprising given the change in her lifestyle was radical to say the least though traumatic might be a better description and she was having difficulty in coming to terms the dramatic changes that befell her. On the other hand his mother was delighted with all the tears and was pleased to see her son working so hard to stay in character as an oversized little girl as she embraced her new lifestyle whilst coming to terms with all the limitations it pressed upon her.
His world of male privilege had disappeared from under him. She was feeling very self conscious trapped in her highchair unable to make her escape, but the real hilarity started when her mother began fitting a rigid moulded plastic bib like tray around his neck. It had a stiff tall stand collar which closed at the back of his neck with heavy duty popper fastenings. The rounded plastic bib which served to protect his dress from spillages fastened to the inner edge of the highchairs' table with more sturdy poppers set above the trough at its bottom edge devised to catch any drips and dribbles and other accidents a toddler might have with his food.
"How's that, does that feel good?" His mother enquired. He was horrified at how well he was fastened in he didn’t even have enough freedom to wriggle. Houdini would have had a hard time escaping from the damned thing. It reminded him so much of his car seat he was fastened into to come home. Just how was he expected to feed himself like this he wanted to know all strapped down and helpless unless she was going to feed him a spoonful at a time but at least his mouth would be free and he could try to reason with her between bites. The thought sickened him she really was trying to turn him into a baby and no doubt she would make sure he had accidents with his food and end up wearing most of it spread around his mouth and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it except get used to it. His defiance was not limitless so he was going to have to break free from his humiliations pretty soon before they devised a routine for him whereby he was supervised every step of the way and thwarting any chance of escape. But even if he managed to escape what then? He wondered. He would still be in the house surrounded by people eager to see him returned to his infantile state. He slumped against his restraints in his elevated position above the dining room table high enough to pass as an umpire at a tennis match and where he could look his mother directly in the eye.
"Now Powder-Puff I'm going to remove your pacifier and swap it for your feeding gag." He didn’t like the sound of that at all. "I don’t want to hear a peep from you understand? Or mommy will be forced to put your pacifier back in and you won't get any tea. Now open wide."
Daisy didn't need to open wide, her mouth already was. Her mother would have liked to think it was through his own enthusiasm to be the perfect toddler for her and eagerness to show what a good little girl she was being for her mommy but the fact was that since her introduction to her pacifier that morning her mouth had always been forced wide apart for pretty much for the whole day quite uncomfortably so and now that his muscles had stiffened it was held open so he was 'feeding gag ready' if not eager to receive the implement into his mouth.
It couldn’t be any worse than the more recent occupant of his oral cavity could it? But no sooner than his pacifier was removed he tried to open a dialogue with his mother which much to his horror failed spectacularly. His jaw was stiff and wouldn't work he began trying to chewing air in a bid to exercise the stiffness out but by the time he had worked some movement into his jaw the feeding gag was being offered up to him which he forced to accept. If this was what a day with a pacifier in his mouth did to him just what was he going to be like after 6 weeks of constant usage? It was a scary thought.
The feeding gag was not dissimilar to her pacifier but instead of a pen-is shaped shaft there was a wide stubby pipe. Before he had chance to make a verbal protest his mother fastened in place with adjustable rubber straps pulled tightly around the back of his head and neck. Having done with his moose impression he shook his head vigorously from side to side to rid his mouth of the thing. He still couldn’t speak but he could offer vocal complaints by hooting like an owl as he continued to shake his head angrily. His brother and sister couldn’t help but burst out laughing at him, he sounded like he was having such fun enjoying all his new baby experiences which provided them with constant entertainment.
"He really does seem to be getting into the spirit of all things baby, doesn't he?"
"I actually thought he would have been more trouble to get him to this stage but he has been remarkably cooperative overall."
She plugged the contraption on the back of his chair into the mains electric and listened to the compressor hum into life as it vibrated gently whilst it charged the pressure vessel. His two siblings were sat at the table and tucked into their meal as it was placed before them. But Daisy's meal was tipped into the blender where it was rendered into a very uninviting paste
The blender was scraped clean and every morsel was transferred to his feeding bottle which was hung up like an 'iv' drip from the back of his chair. With pipe work attached she opened the valve connecting the feeding bottle to the pressure vessel and waited to see if it could fulfil its promise of mess free feeding. The compressed air from the feeding bottle slowly moved the sausage of his paste like meal down the tube and into his mouth.
He had a choice choke or swallow. He chose to swallow like a good little girl and ate the whole of his meal without incident apart from the humour he was causing amongst his family as he struggled with his feeding gag. Daisy was particularly unimpressed when he realised that he would be taking all his meals this way in future.
His dessert was fed to him in exactly the same way as it chugged its way down the tube into his mouth where he found it took all his concentration to swallow his food without choking.
Throughout the whole of the meal he was constantly struggling against his restraints in the hopes of breaking free from his high chair but they were made with recalcitrant children in mind so they were sturdy enough to cope with the most determined efforts from their users.
Over dinner Daisy's mother took the opportunity to bring Rachael and Jonathon up to date with all Daisy's adventures. They found themselves laughing so much they had tears running down their cheeks as Daisy wriggled an unwilling guest and captive in her high chair, she felt cheated of her freedom and was not happy about having his humiliations of the day being shared at his expense with his brother and sister for family entertainment.
His mother took great delight in recounting his adventures describing in intimate detail his joy at being able to choose the clothes he intended to wear home, his very first sissy outfit, and the care and attention he put into picking the perfect romper for a boy embarking on a future as a sissy toddler, because he deserved the frilliest attached panties available to create the best impression. How he begged to be a Little Miss Muffet's sissy so he wouldn't be mistaken for a boy in a dress but wanted instead to be seen as an enthusiastic career sissy. Then she recounted his progress through the mall and bumping into Irene Craddock who was so impressed by David's commitment she bought him his playpen, his crib and also his high chair so he could even take all his meals just like a real toddler and could devote himself to the maximum exposure in his nappies. Now he could eat sleep and play toddler and there would be no necessity for her to return to her former self at all for the summer, which will allow Powder-Puff the wonderful opportunity to wear some of this seasons sublime sissy fashions for day wear as well as sleepwear, and maybe one or two pretty party dresses for any play-dates we might arrange for him. I'm sure he'll want to look his absolute prettiest for any potential boyfriend. She gave him a wink. David wanted to protest in the strongest terms he might be all dressed up like a sissy but that didn't mean he was gay so he certainly didn’t want a boyfriend. But the stern look he received from his mother changed all that he gurgled into his pacifier and pulled vigorously against his harness.
"A boyfriend!" squealed his sister'. "I can't wait to see that." And they all burst out laughing at Daisy's expense.
This work is copywrite © Princess PowderPuff 2025.
Daisy whimpered from behind her pacifier before bursting into tears again. He had never cried like this since he was at elementary school. It was hardly surprising given the change in her lifestyle was radical to say the least though traumatic might be a better description and she was having difficulty in coming to terms the dramatic changes that befell her. On the other hand his mother was delighted with all the tears and was pleased to see her son working so hard to stay in character as an oversized little girl as she embraced her new lifestyle whilst coming to terms with all the limitations it pressed upon her.
His world of male privilege had disappeared from under him. She was feeling very self conscious trapped in her highchair unable to make her escape, but the real hilarity started when her mother began fitting a rigid moulded plastic bib like tray around his neck. It had a stiff tall stand collar which closed at the back of his neck with heavy duty popper fastenings. The rounded plastic bib which served to protect his dress from spillages fastened to the inner edge of the highchairs' table with more sturdy poppers set above the trough at its bottom edge devised to catch any drips and dribbles and other accidents a toddler might have with his food.
"How's that, does that feel good?" His mother enquired. He was horrified at how well he was fastened in he didn’t even have enough freedom to wriggle. Houdini would have had a hard time escaping from the damned thing. It reminded him so much of his car seat he was fastened into to come home. Just how was he expected to feed himself like this he wanted to know all strapped down and helpless unless she was going to feed him a spoonful at a time but at least his mouth would be free and he could try to reason with her between bites. The thought sickened him she really was trying to turn him into a baby and no doubt she would make sure he had accidents with his food and end up wearing most of it spread around his mouth and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it except get used to it. His defiance was not limitless so he was going to have to break free from his humiliations pretty soon before they devised a routine for him whereby he was supervised every step of the way and thwarting any chance of escape. But even if he managed to escape what then? He wondered. He would still be in the house surrounded by people eager to see him returned to his infantile state. He slumped against his restraints in his elevated position above the dining room table high enough to pass as an umpire at a tennis match and where he could look his mother directly in the eye.
"Now Powder-Puff I'm going to remove your pacifier and swap it for your feeding gag." He didn’t like the sound of that at all. "I don’t want to hear a peep from you understand? Or mommy will be forced to put your pacifier back in and you won't get any tea. Now open wide."
Daisy didn't need to open wide, her mouth already was. Her mother would have liked to think it was through his own enthusiasm to be the perfect toddler for her and eagerness to show what a good little girl she was being for her mommy but the fact was that since her introduction to her pacifier that morning her mouth had always been forced wide apart for pretty much for the whole day quite uncomfortably so and now that his muscles had stiffened it was held open so he was 'feeding gag ready' if not eager to receive the implement into his mouth.
It couldn’t be any worse than the more recent occupant of his oral cavity could it? But no sooner than his pacifier was removed he tried to open a dialogue with his mother which much to his horror failed spectacularly. His jaw was stiff and wouldn't work he began trying to chewing air in a bid to exercise the stiffness out but by the time he had worked some movement into his jaw the feeding gag was being offered up to him which he forced to accept. If this was what a day with a pacifier in his mouth did to him just what was he going to be like after 6 weeks of constant usage? It was a scary thought.
The feeding gag was not dissimilar to her pacifier but instead of a pen-is shaped shaft there was a wide stubby pipe. Before he had chance to make a verbal protest his mother fastened in place with adjustable rubber straps pulled tightly around the back of his head and neck. Having done with his moose impression he shook his head vigorously from side to side to rid his mouth of the thing. He still couldn’t speak but he could offer vocal complaints by hooting like an owl as he continued to shake his head angrily. His brother and sister couldn’t help but burst out laughing at him, he sounded like he was having such fun enjoying all his new baby experiences which provided them with constant entertainment.
"He really does seem to be getting into the spirit of all things baby, doesn't he?"
"I actually thought he would have been more trouble to get him to this stage but he has been remarkably cooperative overall."
She plugged the contraption on the back of his chair into the mains electric and listened to the compressor hum into life as it vibrated gently whilst it charged the pressure vessel. His two siblings were sat at the table and tucked into their meal as it was placed before them. But Daisy's meal was tipped into the blender where it was rendered into a very uninviting paste
The blender was scraped clean and every morsel was transferred to his feeding bottle which was hung up like an 'iv' drip from the back of his chair. With pipe work attached she opened the valve connecting the feeding bottle to the pressure vessel and waited to see if it could fulfil its promise of mess free feeding. The compressed air from the feeding bottle slowly moved the sausage of his paste like meal down the tube and into his mouth.
He had a choice choke or swallow. He chose to swallow like a good little girl and ate the whole of his meal without incident apart from the humour he was causing amongst his family as he struggled with his feeding gag. Daisy was particularly unimpressed when he realised that he would be taking all his meals this way in future.
His dessert was fed to him in exactly the same way as it chugged its way down the tube into his mouth where he found it took all his concentration to swallow his food without choking.
Throughout the whole of the meal he was constantly struggling against his restraints in the hopes of breaking free from his high chair but they were made with recalcitrant children in mind so they were sturdy enough to cope with the most determined efforts from their users.
Over dinner Daisy's mother took the opportunity to bring Rachael and Jonathon up to date with all Daisy's adventures. They found themselves laughing so much they had tears running down their cheeks as Daisy wriggled an unwilling guest and captive in her high chair, she felt cheated of her freedom and was not happy about having his humiliations of the day being shared at his expense with his brother and sister for family entertainment.
His mother took great delight in recounting his adventures describing in intimate detail his joy at being able to choose the clothes he intended to wear home, his very first sissy outfit, and the care and attention he put into picking the perfect romper for a boy embarking on a future as a sissy toddler, because he deserved the frilliest attached panties available to create the best impression. How he begged to be a Little Miss Muffet's sissy so he wouldn't be mistaken for a boy in a dress but wanted instead to be seen as an enthusiastic career sissy. Then she recounted his progress through the mall and bumping into Irene Craddock who was so impressed by David's commitment she bought him his playpen, his crib and also his high chair so he could even take all his meals just like a real toddler and could devote himself to the maximum exposure in his nappies. Now he could eat sleep and play toddler and there would be no necessity for her to return to her former self at all for the summer, which will allow Powder-Puff the wonderful opportunity to wear some of this seasons sublime sissy fashions for day wear as well as sleepwear, and maybe one or two pretty party dresses for any play-dates we might arrange for him. I'm sure he'll want to look his absolute prettiest for any potential boyfriend. She gave him a wink. David wanted to protest in the strongest terms he might be all dressed up like a sissy but that didn't mean he was gay so he certainly didn’t want a boyfriend. But the stern look he received from his mother changed all that he gurgled into his pacifier and pulled vigorously against his harness.
"A boyfriend!" squealed his sister'. "I can't wait to see that." And they all burst out laughing at Daisy's expense.
This work is copywrite © Princess PowderPuff 2025.
26
Active Sissy Stories / Re: Josh's New Home
« Last post by BabyJay on April 08, 2025, 09:08:33 AM »
Wonderful story. Can't wait for next episodes. Poor Joshy, forced into nappies and humiliated in front of Barbara and Suzie. What next? A visit to the park to play on the swings?
27
Active Sissy Stories / Tales from the Changing room door
« Last post by Jamespir on April 07, 2025, 11:47:34 PM »
It was nearing 7 o'clock pm in a busy restaurant and you could hear from the baby Changing Room
shouts of “Mummy I don't Want my nappy changed “ “Please mummy no Not here “
The female voice replied we've a long journey you need your nappy dry for our journey I'm not stopping again
the next thing the diners could hear is cries of I done want to wear my Pyjamas people will laugh mummy
don't be silly peter the female voice replied you need your pyjamas on so your all ready for bed when we get in it will be late and I need you to be asleep
“but mummy its early can I please stay up “ now they heard the female voice shout “No put your dummy in and let mummy dress you “
It sounded like the day to day arguments of a mother and her Naughty toddler child to the unsuspecting diners but inside the story was somewhat different
Peter wasn't your average toddler he was actually the females husband and she had been treating him like a toddler ever since she had caught him cheating on her with his secretary at work
Jenny was already to leave and peter begged and begged for her to stay and he do anything she had gone back to her mothers and he'd be ringing up crying her mother joked he was just like a toddler needing his mummy they both laughed the jenny said “yes that it ill treat him like the baby he is “
so they started preparing for the new arrival nappies, baby clothes , bottles ,dummies , teddies
and turned the spare bedroom into a nursery
She eventually rang Peter and called him to her house . He was shocked when the plans was laid out in front of him but somehow he couldn't not agree he couldn't bare the shame of having to go back to his parents being divorced
So Peters new life began jenny made him wear nappies full time and he was fed like a baby .he'd spend his days in routines of naps playtime and nappy changes .
Usually this was all done in the privacy of the home but sometimes he had to endure public humiliation
Back to the changing room and jenny smiled as she finished pulling up the trousers of peters Pyjamas they were of a blue colour with dinosaurs on very childish design . Peter stood there with his dummy in as she mocked and looked him up and down
“all you had to do is behave tonight and we could have foregone the baby treatment she told him “
he just murmured as the dummy prevented him from talking
“but no Mr I'm too big for my Pj's decided to get mouthy because mummy ordered him the kids fish fingers instead of the steak . And throwing a tantrum . then I find out you've soaked your nappies ”
Peter looked defeated he wanted to reply that he couldn't help but soak his nappies when he wasn't allowed in the male toilets and she insisted on him drinking so much water but the sounds just came out as baby style whinging
If you could just stay dry for 2 weeks straight maybe mummy could potty train you as mortifying as that sounded he was glad of anything right now
mummy opened the door grabbed his hand to take him out peter tried to prevent her from taking him out “don't make me smack your bottom here she said you've embarrassed me enough “ the other diners all chuckled as this grown man was taking from the changing room and it was fairly obvious from the bulges in his Pyjama trouser that he was in very thick nappies
she walked back to the table where her family had been celebrating her sisters children's 5th birthday
aww is baby peter already for bed Jenny's mother cooed .well we have quite the journey home and I'm not keeping up any later he's already cranky .Peter hated this they would often talk about him as though he was not there
she sat him on the chair while she said goodbye to the family he was so embarrassed he couldn't decide what was more embarrassing the pj's his very bulky nappies or the dummy he had in his mouth
the kids returned from playing outside and asked straight away “whys uncle Pete dressed like a baby?”
jenny replied cause that how he acts they all laughed Peter wanted to cry this was the first time he was subjected to the baby treatment in front of the whole family jenny's mother and her sister already knew and would often turn up at the house to see the new arrival but now jenny's dad brother and his niece and nephews now all saw him in this humiliating situation he found him self in
jenny said its time to go little one we've got a long drive ahead of us their table was at the far end of the restaurant which meant they would have to walk past every table in his humiliating clothing
people laughed and mocked
eventually they got to the car jenny helped him in to the back where she strapped him in .. he always had to sit on a booster seat and jenny always insisted on him having his Pyjama trousers down whilst they drove as she needed to check how wet his nappies were .the only problem is any one that drive past could see the big baby and his thick protective undergarments
if they hadn't already spotted the rather large dummy in his mouth . Jenny started the engine
I want you asleep before we get home she told him or they'll be trouble mister
we need to be up early too as your being dropped of at grandmas as I'm going out with work tomorrow he hated going to grandmas or jenny's mum's as she really made sure to put him through the most embarrassing things ever
he slowly drifted off to sleep
shouts of “Mummy I don't Want my nappy changed “ “Please mummy no Not here “
The female voice replied we've a long journey you need your nappy dry for our journey I'm not stopping again
the next thing the diners could hear is cries of I done want to wear my Pyjamas people will laugh mummy
don't be silly peter the female voice replied you need your pyjamas on so your all ready for bed when we get in it will be late and I need you to be asleep
“but mummy its early can I please stay up “ now they heard the female voice shout “No put your dummy in and let mummy dress you “
It sounded like the day to day arguments of a mother and her Naughty toddler child to the unsuspecting diners but inside the story was somewhat different
Peter wasn't your average toddler he was actually the females husband and she had been treating him like a toddler ever since she had caught him cheating on her with his secretary at work
Jenny was already to leave and peter begged and begged for her to stay and he do anything she had gone back to her mothers and he'd be ringing up crying her mother joked he was just like a toddler needing his mummy they both laughed the jenny said “yes that it ill treat him like the baby he is “
so they started preparing for the new arrival nappies, baby clothes , bottles ,dummies , teddies
and turned the spare bedroom into a nursery
She eventually rang Peter and called him to her house . He was shocked when the plans was laid out in front of him but somehow he couldn't not agree he couldn't bare the shame of having to go back to his parents being divorced
So Peters new life began jenny made him wear nappies full time and he was fed like a baby .he'd spend his days in routines of naps playtime and nappy changes .
Usually this was all done in the privacy of the home but sometimes he had to endure public humiliation
Back to the changing room and jenny smiled as she finished pulling up the trousers of peters Pyjamas they were of a blue colour with dinosaurs on very childish design . Peter stood there with his dummy in as she mocked and looked him up and down
“all you had to do is behave tonight and we could have foregone the baby treatment she told him “
he just murmured as the dummy prevented him from talking
“but no Mr I'm too big for my Pj's decided to get mouthy because mummy ordered him the kids fish fingers instead of the steak . And throwing a tantrum . then I find out you've soaked your nappies ”
Peter looked defeated he wanted to reply that he couldn't help but soak his nappies when he wasn't allowed in the male toilets and she insisted on him drinking so much water but the sounds just came out as baby style whinging
If you could just stay dry for 2 weeks straight maybe mummy could potty train you as mortifying as that sounded he was glad of anything right now
mummy opened the door grabbed his hand to take him out peter tried to prevent her from taking him out “don't make me smack your bottom here she said you've embarrassed me enough “ the other diners all chuckled as this grown man was taking from the changing room and it was fairly obvious from the bulges in his Pyjama trouser that he was in very thick nappies
she walked back to the table where her family had been celebrating her sisters children's 5th birthday
aww is baby peter already for bed Jenny's mother cooed .well we have quite the journey home and I'm not keeping up any later he's already cranky .Peter hated this they would often talk about him as though he was not there
she sat him on the chair while she said goodbye to the family he was so embarrassed he couldn't decide what was more embarrassing the pj's his very bulky nappies or the dummy he had in his mouth
the kids returned from playing outside and asked straight away “whys uncle Pete dressed like a baby?”
jenny replied cause that how he acts they all laughed Peter wanted to cry this was the first time he was subjected to the baby treatment in front of the whole family jenny's mother and her sister already knew and would often turn up at the house to see the new arrival but now jenny's dad brother and his niece and nephews now all saw him in this humiliating situation he found him self in
jenny said its time to go little one we've got a long drive ahead of us their table was at the far end of the restaurant which meant they would have to walk past every table in his humiliating clothing
people laughed and mocked
eventually they got to the car jenny helped him in to the back where she strapped him in .. he always had to sit on a booster seat and jenny always insisted on him having his Pyjama trousers down whilst they drove as she needed to check how wet his nappies were .the only problem is any one that drive past could see the big baby and his thick protective undergarments
if they hadn't already spotted the rather large dummy in his mouth . Jenny started the engine
I want you asleep before we get home she told him or they'll be trouble mister
we need to be up early too as your being dropped of at grandmas as I'm going out with work tomorrow he hated going to grandmas or jenny's mum's as she really made sure to put him through the most embarrassing things ever
he slowly drifted off to sleep
28
Active Sissy Stories / Re: Susan's Three Way Revenge
« Last post by sissy servant 737-820-633 on April 05, 2025, 03:46:34 PM »
IF ONLY IT HAPPENED TO ME INSTEAD
29
Active Sissy Stories / Re: Josh's New Home
« Last post by sweet baby katie on April 05, 2025, 09:39:23 AM »
Baby Bobby: This is, for the many reasons i have previously mentioned, one of the very best stories ever. I hope that you can someday continue it. In any event, thank you so much for this perfect gift.
30
Active Sissy Stories / Re: (Repost) Mother in Law made me a Sissy Maid by Sissy Karen
« Last post by Sissy Ballerina Boy on April 04, 2025, 03:26:20 PM »
Brenda was the last to speak. She went on an on about how wonderful Matthew is and how lucky and grateful is she is to have him. The worst bit was when she started talking about how Matthew made her realise how disastrous her last marriage was when they were working together.
It stung like a knife going through my sole.
“To realise that your husband has homosexual tendencies is an awful shock to a woman.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! I felt like all eyes were turned on me. Brenda continued,
“However thanks to Mother for helping me realise my mistake and to the wonderful Pastor Vorster for helping with the annulment so I could remarry in the Church. Now while many women would have cut off their former husband if they found themselves in a situation like that, the wonderful Christian sole that Pastor Vorster is has found a way to save my wretched former husband and we have another special ceremony for you all to witness.”
What in God’s name was Brenda talking about? I was shellshocked! A special ceremony? What was she talking about? Georgette looked at me with a face of bewilderment and I lifted my shoulders expressing my own disbelief. Pastor Vorster then came to the microphone.
“Thank you Brenda, I am glad to be of help but the real hero of this situation is your wonderful mother, Eleanor Falwell who has agreed to this somewhat unusual arrangement in these modern times and to Georgie who has realised that this is the best way for him to control his evil inclinations, to live a Godly life and be a useful member of our community.”
What was she talking about? I had no idea! My stomach was churning, my heart was pounding. What was going on?
“In my biblical research I found an obscure ancient ceremony where a slave is committed to his Master for the rest of their lives and takes an oath of obedience before God. Now these days of course our society has evolved and slavery is thing of the past. But Georgie has decided of his own free will that this is the best way for him to lead a Godly life. By living his life as a slave to the wonderful Eleanor, he will have her help to control his evil inclinations. This incredible generous woman has agreed to take on this responsibility and has agreed to take him on as her slave.”
There was a murmur around the room, surprise and hushed whispers.There were murmurs of approval from many of the church ladies. The blood was draining out of my face. I must have looked a pale as a ghost. Pastor Vorster continued,
“Yesterday Georgie signed this doc-ument saying he freely surrenders all rights and everything he owns to Eleanor. He has also given Eleanor an enduring Power of Attorney, which legally gives Eleanor the power to make all decisions in Georgie’s life for the rest of his life.”
Pastor Vorster then led mother to a large chair, at the edge of the stage.
“Georgie come here and kneel before your Mother.”
I looked at Mother and she had a huge smile on her face. I gave her a look of disbelief but she ignored me. I was so used to obeying I knelt before her. Pastor Vorster went on.
“Ladies and Gentleman, Before God and our community I welcome you to this commitment ceremony of slave Georgie to his Mistress Eleanor Falwell.”
“Do you Eleanor Falwell, promise before God to look after your slave and ensure he is well nourished and clothed?”
“I do”
“Do you promise to instruct him in the ways of the Church, to ensure he works productively and diligently to the best of his ability?”
“I do”
“Do you understand that you must seek permission from your Pastor to annul this agreement?”
“I do “
“And now to you Georgie. Do you promise to obey your Mistress, without question and without hesitation at all times?”
“I do” My voice was shaky, what was I agreeing to?
“Do you promise to be diligent in your duties and strive for your best work at all times?”
“I do”
“Do you promise to remain chaste in both actions and thought at all times, so help you God?”
“I do.”
“Do you promise to love your Mistress, with all your heart, to cherish her and worship her for as long as you live?”
“I do.” I glanced up at Mother who was smiling broadly like I had never seen her smile as I promised this.
“Do you accept that you have no rights and no possessions unless granted by your Mistress.”
“I do.”
“Do you accept that you may never ask to dissolve this relationship and that you are freely agreeing to be a slave for the rest of your life”
“I do”
“Do you accept that your Mistress has the legal right to leave you to another person at any time and also in her will.”
“I do” Wow this was getting even more serious.
I hadn’t notice Miss Von Donnersmack standing nearby with a box. Pastor Vorster motioned her onto the stage. She opened the box and there was a collar inside. She took it out and handed it to Mother.
“This collar is a symbol of your ownership of the slave Georgie, please place it around his neck and lock it into place."
?
I felt the cold steel collar go around my neck. It fitted perfectly. She then clasped the lock shut.
“I now announce you Mistress and slave before God. From now on you will take Eleanor’s surname Georgie. You are now known as Slave Georgie Falwell……..”
The End
(I found this story a few years ago and wow, it’s one I keep going back to. I think it’s the BEST Sissy Maid story ever written. Although I don’t write it, I would love to hear what you guys thought about it).
It stung like a knife going through my sole.
“To realise that your husband has homosexual tendencies is an awful shock to a woman.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! I felt like all eyes were turned on me. Brenda continued,
“However thanks to Mother for helping me realise my mistake and to the wonderful Pastor Vorster for helping with the annulment so I could remarry in the Church. Now while many women would have cut off their former husband if they found themselves in a situation like that, the wonderful Christian sole that Pastor Vorster is has found a way to save my wretched former husband and we have another special ceremony for you all to witness.”
What in God’s name was Brenda talking about? I was shellshocked! A special ceremony? What was she talking about? Georgette looked at me with a face of bewilderment and I lifted my shoulders expressing my own disbelief. Pastor Vorster then came to the microphone.
“Thank you Brenda, I am glad to be of help but the real hero of this situation is your wonderful mother, Eleanor Falwell who has agreed to this somewhat unusual arrangement in these modern times and to Georgie who has realised that this is the best way for him to control his evil inclinations, to live a Godly life and be a useful member of our community.”
What was she talking about? I had no idea! My stomach was churning, my heart was pounding. What was going on?
“In my biblical research I found an obscure ancient ceremony where a slave is committed to his Master for the rest of their lives and takes an oath of obedience before God. Now these days of course our society has evolved and slavery is thing of the past. But Georgie has decided of his own free will that this is the best way for him to lead a Godly life. By living his life as a slave to the wonderful Eleanor, he will have her help to control his evil inclinations. This incredible generous woman has agreed to take on this responsibility and has agreed to take him on as her slave.”
There was a murmur around the room, surprise and hushed whispers.There were murmurs of approval from many of the church ladies. The blood was draining out of my face. I must have looked a pale as a ghost. Pastor Vorster continued,
“Yesterday Georgie signed this doc-ument saying he freely surrenders all rights and everything he owns to Eleanor. He has also given Eleanor an enduring Power of Attorney, which legally gives Eleanor the power to make all decisions in Georgie’s life for the rest of his life.”
Pastor Vorster then led mother to a large chair, at the edge of the stage.
“Georgie come here and kneel before your Mother.”
I looked at Mother and she had a huge smile on her face. I gave her a look of disbelief but she ignored me. I was so used to obeying I knelt before her. Pastor Vorster went on.
“Ladies and Gentleman, Before God and our community I welcome you to this commitment ceremony of slave Georgie to his Mistress Eleanor Falwell.”
“Do you Eleanor Falwell, promise before God to look after your slave and ensure he is well nourished and clothed?”
“I do”
“Do you promise to instruct him in the ways of the Church, to ensure he works productively and diligently to the best of his ability?”
“I do”
“Do you understand that you must seek permission from your Pastor to annul this agreement?”
“I do “
“And now to you Georgie. Do you promise to obey your Mistress, without question and without hesitation at all times?”
“I do” My voice was shaky, what was I agreeing to?
“Do you promise to be diligent in your duties and strive for your best work at all times?”
“I do”
“Do you promise to remain chaste in both actions and thought at all times, so help you God?”
“I do.”
“Do you promise to love your Mistress, with all your heart, to cherish her and worship her for as long as you live?”
“I do.” I glanced up at Mother who was smiling broadly like I had never seen her smile as I promised this.
“Do you accept that you have no rights and no possessions unless granted by your Mistress.”
“I do.”
“Do you accept that you may never ask to dissolve this relationship and that you are freely agreeing to be a slave for the rest of your life”
“I do”
“Do you accept that your Mistress has the legal right to leave you to another person at any time and also in her will.”
“I do” Wow this was getting even more serious.
I hadn’t notice Miss Von Donnersmack standing nearby with a box. Pastor Vorster motioned her onto the stage. She opened the box and there was a collar inside. She took it out and handed it to Mother.
“This collar is a symbol of your ownership of the slave Georgie, please place it around his neck and lock it into place."
?
I felt the cold steel collar go around my neck. It fitted perfectly. She then clasped the lock shut.
“I now announce you Mistress and slave before God. From now on you will take Eleanor’s surname Georgie. You are now known as Slave Georgie Falwell……..”
The End
(I found this story a few years ago and wow, it’s one I keep going back to. I think it’s the BEST Sissy Maid story ever written. Although I don’t write it, I would love to hear what you guys thought about it).
The more you give, the more I can give back.
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