CHAPTER ELEVEN -- A MOTHER-DAUGHTER OUTING
“Melissa Harper, here to check in my . . . well . . . my daughter, Emily.”
Michael, standing at his Mommy’s side and holding her hand, wasn’t quite tall enough to see into the receptionist’s desk area at A Caring Place, but he blushed nonetheless hearing his Mommy use a girl’s name to refer to him in front of another adult. Truly, he couldn’t even believe he was here and that this was happening. Everything since he’d agreed to be Emily for the day had happened so fast: the happy tears his Mommy had cried, the bath she gave him, the brief freedom from his cage it afforded, and the disappointment of it being locked back on after his Mommy had dried him and coated his body in floral-smelling lotion. After that, Mihcael had assumed he’d get some breakfast, but his Mommy had said not to worry about that “because Nurse Linda will take care of you later today.” After that, she dressed him in what had to be the sissiest combination of clothes he owned: a pale pink polo shirt and a pair of white shorts with a very short inseam (with his ever-present pull-up underneath it). After putting plain white socks and sneakers on her daughter-for-the-day, Melissa had then rushed them into her mini-van and driven them to A Caring Place, with the soundtrack for High School Musical playing at full blast during the ride (with Melissa skipping all the songs sung by boys).
“Yes, ma’am,” the receptionist replied to Melissa. “We’ve got you right here for a . . . oh, Dr. Thurman has reserved the entire boutique for you and your daughter. What a special day you two are going to have!”
As Melissa thanked the receptionist and gushed about how excited she was about this mother-daughter outing, a door leading deeper into A Caring Place opened and a young woman entered. She was not dressed in a nurse’s uniform, but in expensive-looking business casual wear: skin-tight, dark wash jeans and an off-white flowy blouse. She was in terrific shape and was very young, only 19. As Michael ran his eyes up her smoking hot body, his blood ran cold as he realized that he recognized her.
“Mrs. Harper,” the young woman said, extending a hand to Melissa, “Hi, I’m Taylor Brown. I’ll be your fashion consultant in the boutique today.”
“Thank you so much, Taylor,” Melissa said, “it’s lovely to meet you, and this shy little cuddlebug is my . . . daughter, Emily.”
Michael, desperate for the Earth to open up and swallow him whole, had been trying to hide behind Melissa’s legs. Taylor’s little sister, Madison, was in his grade (and several of his classes) at school. Taylor herself had been a senior last year when Michael had been a freshmen, and while Lauren was always the love of his life, he never missed the chance, last year, to ogle Taylor’s curvy butt and big breasts as she walked through the hallways with all the other popular senior girls. Now, all he could do was pray that he’d been too young and too uncool to escape her notice then, so that maybe she wouldn’t recognize him now.
“Emily, huh?” Taylor said with a laugh as she knelt down and grabbed Michael’s face, forcing eye contact. “Well that’s a very pretty name, one that suits you a lot better than the name you were using the last time I saw you.”
“Oh, do you know Mic -- I mean, Emily?” Melissa asked.
“Of course!” Taylor cooed, reaching out and booping the ring on the end of his pacifier, “I went to East too, just graduated last year, and I’m working here part-time while I finish up my AA degree.”
“Well, East is a pretty big school,” Melissa said, “I’m amazed Mi -- Emily here made an impression on you. Were you two friends?”
“Oh no,” Taylor said, with a small laugh. “But my little sister is in Emily’s grade, and everybody always talked about the femmy little freshman who looked like she was still in elementary school.”
Michael wanted to die. He was so humiliated his legs felt wobbly underneath him. His Mommy had promised him no one would know about today! She had to see that that was no longer possible, right? She had to call an abort to this whole crazy “daughter” thing now, right?
“Well, in that case Taylor,” Melissa said, “I’m so very glad we got you to help us today. Emily and I both are both really new to . . . well, to Emily being a girl, and so I’m so glad that she’ll have someone she’s familiar with to guide her through the process.”
Taylor just smirked at Michael and said, “Oh, yeah. Absolutely. I think you could be a very pretty girl, Miss Emily, if we can only get you out of these nasty tomboy clothes.But lucky for you, that’s exactly what we’re going to do today! Let’s go ahead and get you checked in.”
Taylor took one of Michael’s hands, and his Mommy took the other.
Tottering between them, Michael was led back into a check-in room. Much like the very first room he’d visited here, this one looked like a pediatrician’s exam room, albeit one with a totally pink color scheme. Remembering that it was in a room like this one that he had his pubic hair taken away and first got put into his cage, he was immediately on edge.
“Okay, sugarplum,” Taylor said, in a tone that Michael thought was a little bit mocking and also a little bit indulgent, “you get to spend your day in the boutique today, but the boutique is a very special place where no boys are allowed ever. But you’re not a boy, are you?”
Blushing and unsure of what to do, Michael started down and suc-ked harder on his pacifier.
“Sweetie,” Taylor said, “I asked you a question. Are you a boy?”
Michael felt his Mommy nudge him in the back and, still not able to make eye contact with Taylor, he shook his head no. Behind him, his Mommy squealed with delight.
“Well,” Taylor said, “if you’re not a boy, then let’s get you out of these awful tomboy clothes so we can get you down to the boutique right away!”
Within a minute, Taylor and Melissa had stripped Michael down to his pull-up. Taylor even took his socks and shoes off. While Michael was feeling incredibly babyish in just his pink princess pull-up and pacifier, the women once again each took one of his hands and led him, stumbling between them on bare feet, deeper into A Caring Place. Michael was used to being taken from a check-in room to the girly nursery where Nurse Linda breastfed him, but today Taylor and his Mommy led him past that room and deeper into the building. After enough twists and turns through relatively bland and anonymous hallways that Michael felt helplessly lost, the trio arrived at two plain looking double-doors with a small sign outside them that read “Boutique, Interior Entrance.”
Taylor pushed open one of the double doors and pulled Michael along behind her. His eyes bugged out and his Mommy, behind him, audibly gasped when they looked at the room they’d just entered. It was huge, something akin, size-wise, to a small hotel conference room, and every inch of it was decked out in frilly, prissy finery. The room was covered in soft white carpeting, and it looked like the little girls’ section of a high-end department store. Clothing racks filled the floor, and each of those racks were filled with dresses and rompers and girly t-shirts. Everywhere Michael looked he saw glitter and bows and lace and satin and childish designs, all in muted, pastel, feminine colors. White shelving was built into the walls, and that too contained merchandise: sashes and ribbons and hair barrettes and hair brushes and bracelets and necklaces and shoes and everything else a fussy, demanding little princess could ever have dreamed of.
“Oh my,” Melissa said, almost dropping Michael’s hand in shock as she took the room in.
“It really is something, isn’t it?” Taylor giggled as she led mother and daughter deeper into the boutique. “Everything here is super high-end. Dr. Thurman really spared no expense.” Looking down at Michael, clad only in his pull-up and nursing on his pacifier, she said, “this is probably the fanciest dress shop for little girls in the whole country, and only very special little girls get to come here.”
“Emily,” Melissa said, “Dr. Thurman cleared the whole store for us today! We’re their only customers! Isn’t it just a dream come true?”
Michael, who felt extremely exposed and extremely nervous about what might be to come today, suc-ked on his pacifier and said nothing. As Taylor led them deeper into the store, the tall rows of clothing racks that had been blocking his view parted, and Michael could see that there was a large, clear space at the center of the store. Elevated so that it sat above the sales floor and all of its prissy wonders, the center of the room contained a huge trifold mirror and a short, elevated platform--a fashion runway with stage lights lining its edges. Three chairs were arranged facing the runway and the mirror. Nurse Linda, in a white bathrobe, sat in the left chair. Dr. Thurman, looking as slick and intimidating as ever, was in the right chair. The middle chair was empty, apparently being saved for Michael’s Mommy.
“Melissa,” Dr. Thurman said with a huge smile, “it’s so good to see you. And to see Emily. I know this is going to be a very special day for both of you.”
Michael was struck, as he always was when he saw Dr. Thurman, by how she talked about him and very rarely to him. But Melissa didn’t seem to mind that. She nodded, and clutched one hand to her chest, clearly overcome with emotion. Michael wasn’t exactly sure why, but he could tell his Mommy was on the verge of tears again. But Michael himself was on the verge of something else, and he tugged at Melissa’s hand that was holding his. When she looked down at him, he mumbled around his pacifier, “Mommy, I need to pee.”
“Emily!” Melissa said, clearly embarrassed, “no talking!”
“She’s new here,” Nurse Linda said, smiling indulgently as she rose and went to a nearby closet. “And I’ve got just the thing for our special girl.” Michael felt faint as he saw what she was returning with: a pink plastic child’s potty. Nurse Linda set in on the floor in front of the women’s chairs, and Michael felt his knees buckle with humiliation. He bleated into his pacifier, trying to explain that no, he didn’t need that, he could wait. But no one paid him any attention, and his Mommy, clearly thrilled by the idea of him using the potty, quickly pulled down his pull-ups, leaving him naked, except for his cage, in front of all of these women. Of course his Mommy, Dr. Thurman, and Nurse Linda had seen Michael like this before, but he was acutely aware of Taylor’s presence. Her little sister was in his class at school! Would Taylor tell her about the high school sophomore in a chastity cage who was about to be sat on a child’s potty? As Nurse Linda and his Mommy sat him down on the pink potty, he felt some small relief that Taylor had stepped away for a moment. Still, as he squatted and his bare buns touched the pink plastic of the potty, he didn’t see a way that whatever scraps of a high school reputation he had left could possibly survive this.
“There you go!” his Mommy squealed with glee as she let go of his hands and stepped back, joining Nurse Linda and Dr. Thurman in their chairs. Michael blushed furiously as he found himself eye level with the shoes of these three women who had already re-shaped his life (and clearly had further plans to do so).
“You just go ahead and tinkle, Miss Emily,” Nurse Linda said. “You go ahead and just pee your pee-pee right in your potty like a big girl.”
Michael did need to pee really badly, but his nudity and the absurdity of the child’s potty had spiked his embarrassment level badly. He didn’t know if he could pee.
“Awwww, Mommy’s special baby girl just needs to be comforted, doesn’t she?” Nurse Linda said, getting out of her chair and kneeling by Michael as he crouched on the potty. Taking one of his hands, she held it between both of her own. The way she was kneeling, it put her huge cleavage very close to Michael’s face, and he couldn’t help but stare. He was still humiliated to think about the fact that he was a breastfeeder now, but deep down, he had to admit that he was fascinated with Linda’s huge breasts and silver-dollar-sized areolas. Once he started nursing from her, he could never stop until he was totally blissed out.
“Look how attuned to Linda’s breasts she is,” Dr. Thurman said.
“Oh, yes,” Melissa said, beaming with pride, “we haven’t missed a nursing session since she started.”
Michael blushed crimson and squirmed with the uncomfortable sensation of needing to pee but not being able to let go. “It’s okay, sugar,” Nurse Linda said, “just be a good girl and wet in your potty for us. Can you do that, big girl? Can Nurse Linda’s sweet little Emily pee pee in her potty like a big girl?”
“Don’t you worry, Emily,” Dr. Thurman said, “you don’t have to get too used to your potty. It’s not something you’ll be using for very long.” Her words confused Michael. On the one hand, he was glad to hear that this potty wouldn’t become a regular thing. What Dr. Thurman had said pleased him, but the way she said it made him distinctly nervous.
As Linda continued to soothe Michael while he sat on the potty, Taylor returned. To his horror, Michael could see that she was carrying a baby bottle. Made of glittery, see-through pink plastic, it was clearly full of milk.
“Oh,” Melissa said to Dr. Thurman, “does this have . . . ?”
“Yes. Everything we talked about, Melissa. It’s temporary, just for the afternoon, but it should give you a small taste of what’s possible with the full treatment.”
“Ms. Harper?” Taylor asked, “could I give Emily her bottle?”
“Oh, how sweet of you!” Melissa gushed. “Please do!”
With Linda still on one side of him, Taylor knelt on the other. “Here we go, Miss Priss! Now, are you going to be a good girl for me, today? I bet you are! I bet Emily is going to be a good girl for her Mommy and her Wet Nurse and her Doctor. So when I take your paci out, it’s no talking Princess. Not a word, just your yummy-nummy bottle, okay?” In one swift motion, Taylor pulled Michael’s pacifier and replaced it with the rubber nipple of the baby bottle, which, of course, she held for Michael, never even giving him the option of holding it for himself.
It was all too much for Michael: the cloying taste of warm baby formula on his tongue, the plastic smell of both the bottle and the potty he was sitting on, his nudity, Linda’s comforting hand running up and down his back,
Taylor’s beautiful face just inches from his own, his Mommy and Dr. Thurman looking down on all of this, on his abject humiliation. With a small cry, muffled by the bottle teat, his bladder gave out and the whole room could hear the tell-tale sound of him pissing into the potty.
“What a good girl you are,” Linda cooed.
“Good girl, princess!” Taylor said. “Nurse your ba-ba, baby.”
Melissa wept tears of joy, and Dr. Thurman looked on with smug assurance.
Tears streamed down Michael’s face, but Linda kept praising him for peeing in his potty, and Taylor kept praising him for nursing from his bottle (while being rather aggressive about making sure that he did so). “Look how excited she is to have her big girly day,” Taylor said, wiping Michael’s tears away as he nursed the bottle. When he finally finished peeing, he still had about half the large bottle to go. Taylor was relentless about tilting it back and keeping the flow of formula coming. Michael had no choice but to swallow, and the women chatted amongst themselves as he finished his bottle while still on the potty.
When his bottle was finally finished, Taylor stood Michael up and held out his pull-up for him to step into, insisting that he put his hands on her shoulders for support as he did so. Then, to his surprise, she took his hand and began leading him away from the other women, including his Mommy. When he let out an audible cry of distress around his pacifier, Taylor said, “Hush, baby girl. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to take you and help you get dressed in some beautiful looks. Then I’m going to help you come out and show those looks off to your Mommy. So wave goodbye, sweetie.” Michael felt like a fool as Taylor took his arm and physically made him wave goodbye to his Mommy, his wet nurse, and his therapist. The three women waved goodbye in return, and then Taylor was leading him off again, her hand firmly wrapped around his own as though he needed her guidance to get anywhere.
� Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Topic: A Caring Place (Co-Written by PervScenes11) (Read 68653 times)
